Spanish Wells has a different feeling from the island towns we've seen so far. It was settled by English loyalists after the American Revolution, and the residents speak with an English accent. The houses are very neat, surrounded by yards and gardens, and painted pastel colors. It's a more compact community than the Bahamian towns we've visited, which are spread out with no discernable center. And while all Bahamians are friendly, the folks of Spanish Wells take friendliness even further. For example, I needed to get a propane tank refilled, which is done at someone's house about 1/2 mile from the fuel dock where I had tied up Grace. As I started walking down the road, a man and woman in a golf cart (the preferred form of transportation) stopped and asked me if I wanted a ride. They drove me to the propane refill, waited while I talked to the woman there and left my tank, and then gave me a ride back to the fuel dock! He was a fisherman who worked on the lobster boats that go out for weeks at a time as far as Cuba, and we talked about the state of the fishing industry.

We anchored at Spanish Wells for three days, waiting for the wind and seas to settle (it was very windy and the seas were enormous, breaking in clouds of spray on the reefs to the north of Spanish Wells). I took Grace into the fuel dock for diesel and to fill my water tanks. Filling my water tanks here was a bad idea... First, I hadn't securing tightened the inspection port on one of my water tanks, and after the tank filled, I started to fill up the boat - only realizing this when the bilge pump started pumping water overboard. Second, after filling both tanks and 3 1-gallon jugs, I found out the water was brackish and unuseable. And during the three days there, my outboard suddenly died again. I am now without an outboard for my dinghy, until I either get it fixed, decide on impulse to buy a new one, or just decide to row.

We (Faith Afloat and Grace) moved Tuesday to an anchorage at Royal Island, about 4 miles from Spanish Wells, to wait for good conditions to make the 55 mile crossing to the Abacos. While Royal Island has a very well-protected anchorage, the shores are all rocky ledge so I basically was stuck on Grace (except for having cocktails on Faith Afloat).

Thursday was our day to cross the North East Providence Channel (which at that point is really the North Atlantic Ocean) up to the Abacos. All our sources on the web said it would be 15-20 kt winds from the NW, with 6 ft swells with a 10 sec period, which despite the size of the swells is not rough.

The conditions weren't exactly what we expected... The winds gusted up to the high 20s, and on top of those 6 ft swells were steep, nasty 4-5 ft waves coming from the opposite direction. Both Tom on Faith Afloat and I thought we might be able to motor sail and have a fast run, but two hours out, the furling line for my genoa roller furling broke, leaving too much sail out for the conditions. So, despite the bow burying itself in the seas, I clipped on my harness and went forward to pull the genoa down on to the deck. The rest of the way would be a much slower motor. Tom found he couldn't keep his genoa flying, so he was motoring too. Our passage turned into a very rough and rolly 12 hour trek.

We turned into Little Harbor Cut, which, despite the breaking seas all around it, was passable, anchored for the night, and slept soundly until 3 am, when I started to think what I was going to do to repair the genoa.

Friday, we motored up to Hope Town in the Abacos, where I spent one night. Hope Town should be on your 'must visit' list if you come to the Bahamas. Smaller cottages painted bright pastels, surrounded by gardens, packed close together, mixed in with art galleries and various shops, on narrow winding streets. Sort of like a cross between the neatness of Spanish Wells and a Disney planned community. Be sure to look at the photos in the gallery. The big landmark in Hope Town is the Elbow Reef lighthouse. It is unique in that it still uses a kerosene lamp rather than an electric one, and a weight that has to be cranked up every two hours to power the light rotation (every other lighthouse I'm aware of has electric motors to do this). It is open for free for people to climb the 101 stairs, then climb through a small hatch, and be able to walk around the platform surrounding the top. Views are breathtaking.

And the good news is while at Hope Town, I was able to repair the genoa (I found multiple problems which needed to be addressed), and it is back on the forestay.

Yesterday, I moved to a marina in Marsh Harbor, while Tom and Luke got a mooring in Hope Town (it is very hard to get a mooring in Hope Town because of all the boats that go there and then don't move. Tom got lucky to find an unoccupied one). Tom's mother and father are coming for a visit, staying in a resort there. I am staying in this marina so I can take showers for the first time in 3 weeks, and do laundry to get the salt out of my clothes.

This next week I'll be moving north and west, to get into position to cross back to the US when a weather window appears.