Feb 12, 2011 Saturday
The Run for Rum
"The wind rules the aspects of the sky and the action of the sea." Joesph Conrad
A hasty departure from Hawke's Nest proved prudent due to a convention of No Seeums, the dreaded bug of the ultimate itch. Weather opened a window and offered an opportunity to advance to Rum Cay. The SV Ariel barrelled out of her slip with exhaust flying. We returned to the unusual, flat, calm Exuma Sound. A marvel to behold. The glistening sunshine created diamonds on the water that appeared to light up a trail in front of the boat. A waffle pattern decorated the tops of the water as a gentle ripple met the hull of Ariel. This day had Ariel performing as a motor sailboat. All white sheets were taut from the propulsion of the motor. The sails served to lift the bow and ease the dipping motion as the wind caused the sea to build. We witnessed the change but traveled in comfort. The sky remained a blue canvas but the white clouds were etching messages to the informed sailor. Ed watched the fluffy white cotton candy morph into long stringy clouds, mares tails, forecasting storms to follow.
We were ahead of a front with a plan to be settled in a marina in Rum Cay sipping on a Rum Punch when the front rolls past. The warm temperature established a great day to be on the water. The depth of the sea under Ariel was 4000ft. We were sporting our life jackets, Ed for deck work raising the main and myself because that is the rule aboard the SV Ariel. Ariel sliced through the water at 6.3 knots.
The passage past Conception Island, an uninhabited National Park, well know for diving, ship wrecks, and snorkelling provided an unexpected surprise. At a distance of 5 miles from the shore of Conception Island, a strong odour assaulted our sense of smell. The animals must have provided considerable fertilizer for such an odour to be reaching the boat. The wind was blowing in just the right direction. We were fortunate to not miss such a smell! We traveled onward.
Our arrival at Rum Cay was cause for many new friends offering assistance with docking true Bahamian style. Ed was apt at lassoing the pilings. Peter Sheldon was our Dockmaster. Following Bahamian ways, the Dockmaster had left early. Gratefully, we adhered to Peter's directions. We had arrived at our next home, a slip at Rum Cay.