FIRST LIGHT

It’s been a while since I last wrote… entertaining tends to take precedence over writing, but here we are. When we left you we were hunter-gathering in Red Bay. Since the wind was expected to clock around and get ugly we opted to stay south of the Whale and headed that evening to Treasure Cay, it being the secure anchorage no matter the weather. We motor-sailed up to into the bay, watching the weather build and LilyWin enjoy my crossword book. Anchoring is pretty easy at this point, we pick a spot, I power into the wind until we get there, then back a bit to get some stern-way on to lay out the chain in a happy fashion as Harv drops the hook. It generally sets well the first time, and this was no exception - even if our neighbors looked on perturbed; we all swung in harmony as we toasted another lovely day.

The next morning another Chris Parker Weather Report brought news of more wind. So we spent the day relaxing on the hook, strolling the amazing beach (one of the 10 best in the world!), doing yoga with Lily and enjoying the various fresh-water swimming pools available to boaters. The best is probably a quarter mile east of the dingy dock, just beach-ward from the sign that says “Beach Bar and Pool Open – Join Us.” It’s really quite nice, the meandering pool with submerged stools, the tiled deck that disappears into the sand, all surrounded by lawns and tidy condos, they have paddle boards to borrow and fish tacos, according to Winslow, that are the best he’s ever tasted. The cracked conch wasn’t bad either, but by the time we were done the wind was building and the clouds looked ominous so we headed back to find the first drops falling and a concerned Ms. B sheltering under the boom. By then most boats had shifted to mooring buoys. We held snugly amid the gusts with dinner, conversation and cards to keep us happy.

By morning the wind had piped up in earnest and was wailing in the rigging. We yawed back and forth for a while, pondering what to do. We needed to get LilyWin back to Marsh for their departure. If we headed out now we could use these lovely 25kt northerly winds to beam reach down to Marsh; if we waited another day and the wind veered to easterly, as was predicted, we’d be lucky to be beating into it close hauled. Not much of a choice, so we weighed anchor, to the astonished looks of our neighbors and were off.

It was a bit of a bounding ride, but the skies were clear and we were making 7 kts. Still, no one regretted rounding up into Marsh Harbor’s calm; we anchored just off The Jib Room. A huge line of cumulus clouds just above it were overtaking the northern sky as Winslow and I hopped in the dingy for a ride to the Fish House – when all else fails hunter-gatherers go shopping. You guessed it, the outboard had other ideas. It’s not that it wouldn’t start, it would … for a moment, then it would die. We tried all the usual fixes but it wasn’t until the rain started that it decided to cooperate. When we returned Harv had beverages to warm us and the fun began.

First a French couple in a Moorings Beneteau rental that had been with us in Treasure arrived. This guy was a whiz with the throttle, zipping furiously around the anchorage. He nearly broad-sided several boats and finally headed up to the shallow end of the bay where he either grounded or stopped abruptly, at which time a speed boat came to his rescue and set his anchor for him. Then one of the nearly-broadsided boats hauled anchor, churning up quite a bit of mud in the process, and tried to re-set … three times, in three different locations. A house ashore caught fire and a while later the local engine, sirens blaring, careened around the narrow streets toward the smoke. We watched the wind veer easterly and rise as more boats labored in: Meadowlark from Oklahoma, Spirit in the Sky from somewhere British and a Finish boat that was too far away to scrutinize. Finally the rains came down in earnest and darkness descended; we retired to a warm cabin for lobster.

The next day Chris Parker began, “We can’t know what the day will bring. It could be calm, sunny, wet, windy, squally … I have no idea. The models don’t agree.” Curiously, it was all of those things: calm as we slipped into the dock; sunny as we lunched on Marvin’s fish Rubens; wet as the “pickling solution” rained down on us (When not in use the watermaker’s membrane, a 5’ long 4” across tube must be “pickled” to preserve it… alas, the last of our systems to be lit off really did “light off”. Shortly after getting the watermaker going it started to smoke just where the clutch meets the high pressure pump. We’ll have to investigate later; boat maintenance with guests is not easy.); and finally the day ended windy and squally.

But as often happens, today dawned calm and serene. We walked down the narrow lane in front of the marina to see if we could find the fire engine’s destination (we could not) but happened upon a local’s amazing front-yard garden. Filled with heavily laden papaya and star-fruit trees, gorgeous plump tomatoes and waist-high kale, what with the rain it smelled of earth and growing things, something we’re not used to. We stopped to admire and found the gardener to be very friendly and very generous with the fruits of his labors. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted such succulent treats, but time was against us so we returned for one last Marvin-meal and then LilyWin were off to the airport, back to their world, their weather, their wind. And we are here in ours. Our boat is tidy from all the rainy weather and quiet… very quiet. Our kids – one of the winds that lifts our sails – have gone. This is not a sad thing, it is just the calm after many days of very windy weather.