Just in Tiime
21 January 2015 | San Salvador, Bahamas
jen/sunny and gorgeous!
On Sunday we slipped down the Sea of Abaco to the bitter end, watching the wooly clouds to our east and north pour down rain or send down tendrils reminiscent of our water-spout adventures, but none formed. By midafternoon we were anchored in the lee on the east side of Wilson Town (c 1916 and now only ruins) watching as Lauren slipped into fins and snorkeled to check the anchor and explore the limestone ledges to our west. She is a fish! Very adventurous, very self-assured, a compact young woman who, much like her wispy blond hair, has a mind of her own. She seems at a crossroad in life, but with a fabulous sense of humor that the next few days of sleep deprivation did not daunt.
We pulled anchor in time to make the Captain’s ETD of 0600 and sailed out of Little Harbor Cut just as the sun rose behind a bank of puffy clouds. Two other boats joined us, but they disappeared into the west as our paths diverged – they off to Egg Island Cut at the north end of Eleuthera, we off to San Salvador. By 1000 we were under sail making 6+ knots with the wind almost dead astern. We tried wing and wing, but the 6’ swells made that untenable, even with a preventer at the end of the boom and the vang mid-way along. (vangs and preventers are to stop the boom from swinging wildly across the boat with an accidental gybe – when the sail catches the wind from the opposite side from where you want it – a VERY bad thing).
Marezine (fabulous sea-sickness meds) is no more, but the Brits have a WONDERful Stugeron which Lauren, and finally I decided was the better part of valor. The poor cat was … less fortunate. As the afternoon wore on Lauren braved the rocking and rolling galley and turned out a fabulous set of sandwiches. Evening was Rob’s turn and his Chicken Quesedillas did not disappoint. Around 1900 traffic picked up with several cruise liners heading south from NE Providence Channel. We noted one behemoth overtaking us, red and green sidelights with masthead and range in a vertical line, just off our starboard stern… at 8 miles we pulled out the radar. Yep, she was bearing down on us – decreasing range, constant bearing… not good, not good at all! But we were the stand-on vessel, she the give-way, but she did not! At just over 2 miles we turned on all lights; Rob illuminating our sail with his incredibly bright LED flashlight and I got on the VHF. “To the Cruise Liner 2’ off my stern overtaking me, I am the sailing vessel First Light. What are your intentions?!” … nearly a minute passed. (insert foreign accent) “Sailing Vessel, We will take you on your port side.” 8^O !! “Say again?!?” and after confirmation, at only 1 mile distance, “You are altering your course to port and will pass me on my PORT side?!? I am altering my course to STARBOARD!!” And, just in time, he crossed our stern and passed within a quarter mile of us. It was an AMAZING defiance of every Rule of the Nautical Road WE know. Lauren, jaw on the deck, was amazed watching the bystanders aboard view us with nonchalance. Rob was shocked. Harv and I were well beyond that. WHO do they hire as watch officers!!?? I am certain that IDIOT had NO idea we were even there. I tried to get a picture of Harv silhouetted against the enormity of the Carnival Splendor’s lights, but, to be honest, it’s a sight I’d rather forget.
By this time, the wind had veered to on our nose so we labored along in building seas with the help of the wonderful Yanmar. Curiously enough, after starting her up, Harv checking her out like a prudent mariner found the watermaker’s clutch had come adrift and was lying under the engine! (this will warrant further investigation, but as we’d removed the drive belt, it was not an issue for the moment) And so, all night long, two-people standing three hour watches, we slipped southeast. Sleeping when heeled over, pounding in a choppy sea is a trick. One is best served farther aft and on the down-hill side. Up in the v-berth it was like attempting to get some shut-eye on a trampoline with several energetic, overweight kids doing back flips… several times I was airborne. Succinct Rob said it well, “The first watch was great – I was full of energy and felt I could have gone on all night! The second watch was fine. The third … I was exhausted and not sure I could stay awake.”
We rose to bounding seas, and fresh wind on our nose. Rob, Lauren and I spent the morning dreaming of our favorite meals, describing them in detail and salivating mightily. We counted down the miles to go, dining on nuts and power bars, none of us had the energy to do more. When we finally made landfall joy took over. San Salvador first appears as a broad range of low hillocks. As you approach they meld together into this fascinating place. The entrance to the ONLY marine is narrow but there are range markers! The entrance tees into the harbor, which dockage along a high wharf to the left and Bahamian slips to the right. We went right and fought the wind to finally tie up, break out the “Captain’s reward” gin and tonics and hors d’oeuvres to sustain us. The cat jumped ship a number of times, only to lounge in the shade of the neighboring boat (the aptly named Just in Time) or rub blissfully on the dockboards.
Harv took forever to return, and then by cart. He had found the heads to be absolutely awful… I won’t go into detail, but they were disgusting enough he took a room at the neighboring hotel (the pic is the view from our room) so we could all shower in peace. After cleaning up we walked down to the curious restaurant and bar with its semi-soiled t-shirt strewn ceiling and felt-penned cruiser comments, juxtaposed against the view of never-ending turquoise and now quiet seas adding to the ambiance. Dinner was fabulous and just in time as exhausting was overtaking us. We started with lovely salads and home baked bread (Lauren had 5 pieces), then came the grilled wahoo and steak for Rob, Bahamian rice and exquisitely sautéed green beans with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce to cap it off. The only other table, one foot away, was filled with fisher-folk who struck up amiable conversation and then graciously shared pieces of their platter of fresh caught wahoo, grilled and fried. It was beyond belief.
And so, today, we are more or less rested and refurbished and Lauren has rented a car for us to tour the island, check into more fishing gear for Rob (yea Rob!!), secure more Bahamian bread and bask on some friendly beaches.