Sargo Sails

Vessel Name: Sargo
Hailing Port: Newburyport MA
Crew: John and Lory
11 June 2016
03 June 2016
03 June 2016
13 May 2016
13 May 2016
31 March 2016
24 March 2016
24 March 2016
09 February 2016
19 January 2016 | Exumas
26 December 2015 | Spanish Wells
04 December 2015 | Hope Town, Elbow Cay, Abacos
04 December 2015 | Marsh Harbor, Abacos
18 November 2015 | Green Turtle Cay, Abacos
10 November 2015 | Marsh Harbor
02 November 2015 | Hampton VA
20 October 2015 | Tangier Island
16 October 2015 | Dogwood Harbor, Tighlman Island, MD
Recent Blog Posts
11 June 2016

New York Visit

June 6, Groton Long Point, CT.

03 June 2016

Annapolis MD

Friday, May 27, Underway north of Annapolis, MD

03 June 2016

She Did It!

Monday May 16, Houston TX

13 May 2016

US East Coast

As I write this on May 3, we are anchored off Hampton University in the Hampton River, in Hampton River, VA, in the Chesapeake Bay. We are flying to Belle’s graduation next week, and will be moving Sargo a few hours down the way to a free dock for our time away.

13 May 2016

Good Bye Bahamas

After Jose Juan and Camila left us, we completely shifted gears from the fun vacation mode we had been in with all of our company for about 2 1/2 months, and we entered the much more business-like “get to Norfolk, Virginia for Belle’s graduation” mode. We made quick time getting out of the beautiful [...]

31 March 2016

RockPort Laundry

I have a new favorite spot: the Rockpoint Laundry, in the settlement of BlackPoint, on Great Guana Cay (just south of Staniel Cay). It is laundry heaven, and then so much more.

New York Visit

11 June 2016
June 6, Groton Long Point, CT.

We left Annapolis the day after the Blue Angels did, and we headed north with the intention of meeting Belle for her 22nd birthday at John’s parents’ house in Groton Long Point, CT. We hustled up the Chesapeake, through the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal, into the Delaware Bay, then out to the Atlantic, when we hit the wall of dense fog. We had three long consecutive days of it as we day hopped up the New Jersey coast, spending nights at anchor in Atlantic City and then in Barnagat Inlet.

Fog is challenging: both John and I have to be on watch all the time. When it was at its thickest, one of us would sit on the foredeck (on an upside-down bucket), continuously monitoring the forward horizon, blowing on the fog horn every few minutes. The other one of us would stay in the cockpit, checking the fog behind us, and popping down and checking the radar and AIS unit very frequently for signs of any boats hidden nearby. Luckily, boat traffic was light, and the sea state was calm. We had only one near miss—a very small motor boat that we did not see on radar, and did not see visually until he was right next to us (!) as we passed him by. His engine was off, and he was drifting—completely silent. (Fishing? Asleep?) I caught a quick glimpse of his face—open mouthed and wide eyed as we looked at each other in horrified surprise-- before he disappeared into the fog. Don’t like fog.

Thankfully—oh so thankfully—the fog lifted as we headed into New York Harbor the day after Memorial Day, and it turned into a sparkling day. We were routing through NY harbor in hopes of catching a glimpse of Nate. As you may remember, Nate is spending the summer on the tug boat Morgan Raineaur. The Morgan Reinauer is about 100 feet long, and the tug’s bow is attached to her barge, which is about 300 feet long. All told a long vessel. They have a home base in Staten Island, NY.

The boat gods were with us, because the Morgan was having an unusual off day—she was anchored in a designated big ship anchorage area just south of the Statue of Liberty, waiting for orders for her next delivery. And Nate—who had spent that morning on a Cosco run provisioning for the tug—made it back in time to be standing aboard the barge as we motored by! We yelled a few greetings back and forth as we motored by—Nate walking along the barge to keep up and chat with us. Then we circled back for a second conversation pass, and some other persons had appeared next to Nate on the barge. We heard: “Nate, what’s going on?” Nate replied (and I could hear the embarrassment across the water!): “Umm, those are my parents…” Followed by the response: “Your parents! Well, have the come alongside!” Nate (still embarrassed): “Umm...really?” Lory: “Umm..I’m not so sure this is a good idea…” John: “Get the lines out! We are going in!”

.…..So, smack in the middle of busy busy NYC harbor, with a battleship passing us by one one side (no joke--the Harbor had been filled with Navy warships for Memorial Day), I prepared the lines and we docked along the Morgan for a visit! Nate’s crew and captain came aboard and checked us out, and we went aboard the Morgan and checked her out, and visited and chatted with the crew for a bit while taking in the incredible view. Nate looked great (although he had that slightly dazed, paniced look about him of “Oh my gosh my parents are meeting my boss….."). It was a fun visit.

After waving goodbye to Nate, we flew up the East River with a big current behind us—doing as much as 10 knots over the ground—for a breathtaking tour of the east side of Manhattan, and we ended the day anchored in the peaceful community of Sea Cliff, NY, where Lory’s mother Ruth spent her summers as a little girl.

The next day, we made it up to the Thimble Islands, and then on Belle’s 22nd birthday, we pulled in to Groton Long Point to anchor off of John’s parents’ house for a visit with Belle, and John’s parents. Next leg of our trip: heading to Newburyport!

Annapolis MD

03 June 2016
Friday, May 27, Underway north of Annapolis, MD

After returning from Belle’s graduation, we made our way north to Annapolis, MD, where we had a nice visit from John’s nephew, Puran, his ex-wife Nish, and their son, Devon. As it turns out, we happened to arrive for the week of May 23-27, which is Commissioning (graduation) Week at the US Naval Academy. The Naval Academy is a huge presence in Annapolis, and Commissioning Week is a big deal in town. Sargo got to sit on a mooring just off the USNA in downtown Annapolis, in the midst of all the activity for the week. It was so much fun! Some highlights:

The US Naval Academy. The USNA is located in the heart of Annapolis, beautifully landscaped and surrounded on three sides by water. A National Historic Landmark campus, it houses the largest grouping of Beaux Arts buildings in the US (really stunning). Sargo was on a moored just off the southern side of the campus. Just a few weeks prior I had been overwhelmed by the joy on the Rice campus amongst all the friends and family of the graduates. Graduation at the USNA is similarly joyful—reams of beaming parents and grandparents all over town all the time—but with the added flair of Naval pomp and circumstance--the white uniforms, the marching, the patriotism-- which was on display all week, and a treat to witness.

Climbing the Monument. I was asking the friendly lady at the Visitor’s Center downtown the important question (how far to walk to the nearest grocery store?) when she told me to forget the groceries for the moment and head over to the Greasy Monument Event on the USNA campus, which was about to begin.

I will try to explain: Along with graduation, what makes this week special at the USNA is that the incoming freshmen (called plebes at this early stage) are finishing what I guess is their version of boot camp. Climbing the Monument is the last task they must achieve in order to leave their plebe status behind and become official first year students (called midshipmen).

The Herndon Monument is a classic, four-sided, dark grey stone obelisk—like a very tall, elongated pyramid. About 25 feet tall, the Monument stands in the quad in front of the Chapel under tall trees in the middle of the USNA campus, in a normally dignified, quiet spot. When we arrived on climb the Monument Day, we found it coated with white grease (lard?), and topped with a small cap. Off to one side of the quad, the plebes (not quite 1,000 young people—mostly men but many more women than I expected) were corralled in a roped-off area, wearing identical white t-shirts, navy shorts, and white socks (no shoes). They were completely pumped. They were chanting, singing and hollering, and generally getting themselves very riled up for the task ahead. A Navy band, in crisp uniform, sat in the gazebo and played appropriate music. Family and friends (and gawkers like us) clustered in the designated areas around the Monument, behind our own lines.

An important man with an impressive sounding title called the crowd to order. He explained the rules: using only themselves, the plebes had to knock the little cap off the Monument, and place—by hand—a more impressive dress hat back on top. This was a team effort, he stressed, but it was said that the individual who placed the hat on the top would be the first of his (or her) class to become an Admiral. The USNA had started timing the event in 1959. Since then, the fastest time (class of '79) was 20 minutes, and the slowest (poor class of '98) was somewhere over 4 hours. The plebes would have to keep at it till the deed was done. A canon would sound to commence the event, and would sound upon conclusion.

With the canon blast, the hoard of wild plebes charged across the quad. Almost as one, and while running, male students whipped off their t-shirts and began tossing the shirts at the Monument, where many of them stuck, and the base of the Monument was immediately engulfed by bodies. (The plebes kept tossing-and then wiping-with the shirts throughout to wipe most of the lard off the Monument). It was an astonishing sight. There was no one person in charge, no order, no apparent design—how could there be? This was masses of people, climbing on top of each other, getting two and then three bodies high, clinging as best they could to a sleek, slippery surface. Then someone would give way below, and the whole pile would come tumbling down—into and onto the masses below. It was like a pile of angry ants, layers thick, continuously changing shape, never letting up, roaring and chanting the whole time. It was a hot day, so some older students had the role of continuously hosing off the writhing mass, while others passed water bottles into the lower layers of the mass. Every now and again, a student would break through to the next level—and hang there for a second or two, trying to balance on slippery, sagging shoulders, with nothing to hang on to save a polished, smooth, greased surface, and strain and stretch for the top before invariably cascading down again. (And the crowd would groan! Augh!) For the most part, these were all very strong, fit, intimidating looking guys and gals who were red faced and straining hard-totally focussed on the task at hand. But then every now and again a face would materialize among the thrashing limbs, and smile out to the crowd with a quick wave, and a “Hi Mom!” on his/her lips, before being subsumed in the writhing mass again. And of course, the band played throughout. ( I was so hoping that it would be a female student who made it, but it was not to be—not this year, anyway, but soon).

It took one hour and 12 minutes before one guy managed to just barely get his fingertips to the top with the replacement hat. (I would say there were 4 bodies below him-feet to shoulders-that is how high they had to get.) The cannon blasted again to signal victory, and the entire mass collapsed away from the Monument in cheers. Whew. The lady at the Visitor’s Center was right: this was way more interesting than groceries!

The Music. We attended some awesome Commissioning Week concerts (Glee Club, A Cappella, and Choir concerts, and Symphony and Organ Recitals). The music was amazing and varied, but of course included all the patriotic favorites, which sound extra special performed by young people in uniform. The venue was gorgeous: The USNA Chapel, a stunning 1908 structure with Tiffany stained glass. A treat.

The Blue Angels. The Blue Angels do their thing for Commissioning Week over the Severn River in front of the USNA and our mooring field! We had front row seats. Before flying time, the entire downtown filled with people—sidewalks and streets were chocked with them; the entire harbor become blockaded with anchored boats and drifting boats, enormous yachts and kayaks and every thing in between. And then at 2pm, when the first jets screamed overhead, all movement on the ground and on the water froze, and as far as I could see ---on sidewalks and docks and boat decks all around—every face was turned up to the sky, and nothing moved save for the jets overhead. What a show…..Sadly, I just read that a Blue Angels pilot died in a crash in Tennessee...

The Ducks. We were adopted by a pair of Mallard ducks while we were at our mooring in Annapolis. Annapolis ducks are very social and comfortable around people (some might say they are an aggressive nuisance). This pair decided our dinghy was the spot to be, and had to be shooed away whenever we wanted to use the dinghy. (They also left many a calling card on it.) But then they decided Sargo was nicer. Early one morning while John was away, my sleeping brain started to register sounds like those John makes when he gets up before I do, and begins to putter around the galley. My brain woke up a bit more and reminded me that my husband was not, in fact, on board at the time. I bolted wide awake and flew out of bed, only to hear the panicked ducks flying out of the galley! Later that day, we had a closer encounter….I did not realize that the male duck was sleeping on top of the canvas bimini that keeps the sun off the cockpit, and he did not expect me to suddenly stick my head up into his neighborhood as I stepped out from under the bimini. I don’t know who was more startled….


She Did It!

03 June 2016
Monday May 16, Houston TX

She did it! Belle graduated from Rice University in Houston, with a degree in psychology.

We had a lovely, two day graduation extravaganza May 13/14, and the icing on the cake was that all four of Belle’s grandparents were in attendance!

The Convocation and Commencement celebrations were scheduled to take place outdoors on the beautiful academic quad in the heart of campus on Friday evening and Saturday morning. All day Friday we fretted about the weather and watched the thunderstorms roll by. But the weather gods were good to us. We had some gentle rain as we found our seats on the lawn, but soon enough the sky cleared, the rainbow smiled down, and the graduates processed into the quad! What a happy occasion a graduation is! There were thousands of people scattered about the quad—and joy was the overwhelming common denominator. Faces were beaming, voices were cheering, bodies were hugging, and waving, and literally jumping for joy. And it was intensely, wonderfully, diverse: multi racial/ethnic/cultural/lingual—people of every type, color, orientation and origin: all smiles, all congratulating each other. I will not soon forget it.

Our week in Houston disappeared in a flash: John and I arrived for several days of pre-graduation fun with Belle. (We moved all her stuff out of the dorm and into her storage unit; we visited with her friends; she took me to a kick-boxing class (!); we ate lots of really wonderful food.) Tomorrow John and I are flying back to Sargo: we left her on a dock in the heart of historic Norfolk with friends. We will continue north in the Cheseapeake Bay. Belle is traveling and visiting some friends for a few weeks (Seattle, Philadelphia, NYC). She will join us in a few weeks at John’s parents’ home in CT and spend a bit of time with us before heading back to Houston to start he new job teaching 6th grade math at a charter school (named Yes Prep) in Houston.

The only graduation disappointment was that Nate could not join us in Houston, because he had already begun his summer job—required for his degree. Nate is spending 90 days aboard Morgan Reinauer, a 120 foot, sea-going tug boat with its accompanying 300 foot long barge, which transports fuel up and down the east coast. He is on a 6 hour on/6 hour off schedule (on duty from 6am-noon, and then 6pm to midnight); there are 8 other crew aboard with him. While he could not be with us in person, there were lots of photos, texts and phone calls back and forth.

US East Coast

13 May 2016
As I write this on May 3, we are anchored off Hampton University in the Hampton River, in Hampton River, VA, in the Chesapeake Bay. We are flying to Belle’s graduation next week, and will be moving Sargo a few hours down the way to a free dock for our time away.

We have made a fairly quick trip up the coast:

Fernandina Beach, FL. We entered the US at St. Mary’s Inlet, which opens to a big bay bordered by marshland on the west, and two long barrier islands on the ocean side. The southern island is Amelia Island (the town of Fernandina Beach, Fl is here) and the northern island is Cumberland Island, GA. Fernandina Beach is a unique spot: a quaint town with absolutely lovely historic homes, cute shops and restaurants. It is tightly hemmed in from either end by enormous, behemoth paper mill plants which belch steam and stink 24 hours a day, and host an endless stream of big rig trucks bringing in tree trucks, and freight trains taking out paper. A strange contradiction. Cumberland Island is a national park; it used to be the island home of some of the Carnegie family; it is heavily wooded with Live Oaks, spanish moss, and has wild ponies.

We entered Fernandina just ahead of predicted nasty weather. We picked up a mooring across from town, at a lovely marina with hot showers, laundry and internet. The bad weather hit the day after we got there, and stayed with us, for a week. (In fact, there was a Coast Guard rescue of a sailboat just off the coast during that weather, and a friends sailboat caught out there suffered some damage...). But we sat tight for a week, eating out in Fernandina Beach, and exploring Cumberland Island.

Charleston, SC. On Tues 4/19, we jumped to Charleston, SC (a 26 hour hop). We stayed in Charleston only only long enough to sleep for a bit before the next window to jump. We wanted an early 4am start—so we were raising the anchor in the dark when we realized we had a problem. Our anchor had picked up an old cable of some sort—we could raise the anchor to just about the surface of the water but no more. After much unsuccessful maneuvering and effort, John stripped his clothes off, jumped in to the cold, dark water, and wrestled with (and cursed at) the cable till we managed to finally get free….

Cape Lookout Bight. On Thurs 4/21 we jumped to the bight of Cape Lookout (outside of Beaufort, NC) (a 32 hour hop). Cape Lookout is shaped a bit like Cape Cod, but the arm comes all the way around: so it is essentially a large bay enclosed by narrow barrier islands: also a national park. We enjoyed a few days here—lots of shelling, beach walks, and more wild ponies. Here we had our second big squall: again at bedtime, again a surprise, again the winds went from 0 to almost 50 in the blink of an eye. Unlike our Marsh Harbor squall, our decks were very clear, and we had no close neighbors to worry about. We are careful and conservative in our anchoring, and we have a robust anchoring system. Sargo held just fine.

Hampton, VA. Our final hop was on 4/25 to Hampton, VA (another 32 hour hop). Ship traffic got very heavy (and very large) at the mouth of the Chesapeake, just as we hit some nasty head winds. Other than the last few uncomfortable hours, we had a smooth trip. Glad to have made it! Now we could relax.

Some highlights:

(1) It was already strawberry season in Florida!! We went to a farmer’s market and I suspiciously asked the vendors where they had gotten their “fresh” strawberries and tomatoes. Well, just down the way it turns out. I was incredulous. Really? I found myself considering living in Florida for the first time.

(2) The wildlife. Who knew? Silly me assumed that once you leave the Bahamas, you are done with wildlife. The coasts of Georgia and the Carolinas are astonishingly full of animal life. Shore birds galore. (Up north its the seagulls that swoop in for bits of food that people toss—here it is ENORMOUS prehistoric pelicans that take on that role—they can make people turn and run!) Lots of loons. Big, big (loggerhead?) turtles hanging about—we believe waiting for the moment to head in to lay eggs. Many dolphin. And the biggest surprise was the schools of rays—some maybe 30 individuals—each about 1-2 feet long/wide, yellow/brown, flying in tight formation just inches below the surface of the water. Amazing shelling—beaches littered with shells. And, of course, the wild ponies on both Cumberland Island and Cape Lookout and the awe inspiring Live Oaks with the Spanish Moss thing going on….

(3) Fellow Cruisers. There is a slow migration of boats heading north, and it is fun to connect the dots with boats you have met/heard of before. You hear boats on the radio; you see them on AIS; you find them anchored next to you: they are boats you met/saw at a tiny island in the Bahamas months ago- and its an instant happy reunion and exchange of travel/weather info/advice. I will miss that most of all, I think.

(4) Weekend with Friends Bruce and Patty. Our good friends Bruce and Patty, who visited with us in the Bahamas, live a few hours from Hampton and picked us up for a weekend at their home. We had a great time: we visited with both of their children, and their new grand-daughter. We stayed in a real house on land! We went biking, watched tv, toured a historic plantation, and visited a lovely Botanical Garden.

(5) The Hampton River Squall. This is getting to be a bad habit. Once again, we got hit by a big squall. Once again, at bedtime, once again wind went from nothing to almost 50 in a flash. This time, because we had internet, we knew it was coming (in fact, John was in the cockpit and calmly announced “hang on, I see it coming up the river”). Once again, Sargo sat nice and tight, and though we bounced about in the 40 knots of wind, we stayed put. The boat anchored behind us, though, did not. He was alone on his boat, and did a great job of maneuvering his boat around this tiny area (close to us!) during the height of the storm, with his anchor and chain out and dragging around. (The wind had spun him around so much his chain wrapped around his keel and he could not get it up). Once the wind settled, John dinghied over and got on his boat with him to lend a hand while I kept a nervous eye on the sky, and they took it to a slip for the night….too much excitement. I have a new habit of listening for weather alerts at dinnertime.

Good Bye Bahamas

13 May 2016
After Jose Juan and Camila left us, we completely shifted gears from the fun vacation mode we had been in with all of our company for about 2 1/2 months, and we entered the much more business-like “get to Norfolk, Virginia for Belle’s graduation” mode. We made quick time getting out of the beautiful Exumas (with a tear in our eyes) and to the Abacos to stage for our hop to the US. We spent two weeks in the Abacos, visiting Hope Town, Marsh Harbor, Fowl Cay Reserve, Man O War Cay, Cooperstown, and finally, Great Sale Cay.

Some highlights:

The Great Marsh Harbor Squall March 29.

Incoming weather dictated that we return to Marsh Harbor (the largest city in the Abacos). Accustomed to the pristine Exumas water, this relatively large, commercial, murky (no swimming here) anchorage was not attractive. But Marsh Harbor has excellent holding (“holding” refers to the ability of the sand or mud that your anchor in to “hold” you—some types of bottom are better at grabbing the anchor than others). And it has very good almost all-around protection from the wind (meaning that it is a bay with land most of the way around you, so that even in a big blow, the water will not build into big waves). Anyway—weather was coming, so reluctantly to Marsh Harbor we returned.

We arrived just before the big clouds moved in. The harbor was very crowded with boats getting ready to head back to the US. We anchored in close to many neighbors. Some rain squalls came and left; no big deal. It got still and the hot sun came out, so we put up all of our sun shields—a big canvas over the cockpit, a smaller canvas over the foredeck. As we were heading to bed that evening, the canvas on the deck started flapping ever so slightly, so John went up to check on it. Moments later, he was yelling down the hatch for me to 'turn on the engine now!’ and all heck broke loose. The winds went from 0 to 50 in a flash. (Some of our neighbors saw 60s). (We turned the engine on to be ready to move/mange the boat if we needed to). All the canvas we had up became a giant, flapping, snapping, shredding sail. The noise was awful, the rain freezing and horizontal; we were instantly soaked through. Spume was blowing off the water. I could not see with my glasses on—I could not see with my glasses off. We struggled to get the canvas down (it all ripped nicely) as we pitched and heeled way over this way and that, and generally thrashed about. All around us boats were bouncing and surging wildly— every one in different directions. (We surmise we were directly underneath a storm and wind was dropping down and pushing everyone out from the center). We were not sure if we and/or our neighbors were dragging. We came close to touching on of our neighbors-but didn’t. After about 10 minutes, things settled down a bit. Boats all around us were lit up brightly; the radio was alive with terse chatter amongst neighbors who were trying not to touch each other, trying to assess if the were dragging. Some of the boats had long range radar weather forecasting—and they started warning that the next powerful band was heading our way —and we struggled to prepare for that (clearing the decks of everything we could). After tense waiting, what a relief when sailboat Ares came on the radio and said the next band of squalls we had been waiting for had fizzled out, and we were done for the night. (I think he concluded with: “Time to go to bed, folks!”).

The following morning, our daily radio net listed a very large number of lost items (everything from dinghy oars and cushions to solar panels had blown overboard—Sargo lost John’s favorite bathing suit!); and a number of dinghys had flipped, causing the engines to go underwater. Other than that, though, no-one dragged (badly), and everything/everyone was safe. Good holding indeed!

Man O War Cay.

After the great Marsh Harbor squall, we went to Man O War Cay (MOW) for a few days. My new favorite place in the Abacos! Like Spanish Wells, MOW is a very small island, with a small, very tightly knit community living there for many generations. Full of flowers, and entirely cute. We spent three days there on a mooring in town, wandered all over the island, and had long chats with instant new friends everywhere we went. Delightful—lovely.

We Cross.

Our initial plan for returning to US was to leave from Marsh Harbor, and head north to Norfolk, VA (in about 5 days). Two problems with that plan: we kept hearing about SNOW up that way, and we needed to be sure we would have good weather for 5 continuos days all the way north—which did not look like it was going to happen any time soon. And our clock was starting to tick: we wanted to have Sargo back in the US (and hopefully, all the way to Norfolk) for Belle’s college graduation on May 13. So we revised our plan: instead of one big jump from Marsh Harbor, we would work our way west along the northern Abaco islands as far as we could, then jump off the Bahamas, head west across the Little Bahama Bank, enter the Gufl Stream and head as far north as time (i.e., good weather) would allow, then pop over to the US.

So we travelled west along the northern edge of the Abacos—the islands got smaller and smaller, and protected anchorages got scarce. Our last anchorage was a small, non-inhabited spit of land called Great Sale Cay (there were about 30 boats there staging to cross when we left!). On April 10 at 4pm we jumped, and made it to Fernandina Beach, FL about 2 1/2 days later. The only thing I will note about this passage was that for the first half, we had wonderful wind, and Sargo sailed beautifully with our self-steering gear (a Wind Pilot).

It was hard to say good-bye to the Bahamas: the last few weeks there were tinged with sadness, and regret that it was coming to an end. We will sorely miss the amazing water and swimming…..However. As we sailed away, it occurred to us that within a few days, we would be able to go to a coffee shop, get a newspaper, use our cell phones (!!!). We’d be able to talk with family and friends whenever we wanted to. We got a tad giddy. And we started very much looking forward to getting home.

RockPort Laundry

31 March 2016
I have a new favorite spot: the Rockpoint Laundry, in the settlement of BlackPoint, on Great Guana Cay (just south of Staniel Cay). It is laundry heaven, and then so much more.

First, solid, working machines--and plenty of them. The washers wash (and then rinse, and then spin), and the dryers dry. And the cost is so reasonable--just $3.75 per wash or dry. All the way dry. But that is just the beginning. To get there, you anchor your boat in lovely BlackPoint harbor--a large, half moon bay of crystal clear water, maybe 6-9 feet deep, over lovely white sand. You load the laundry into the dinghy and put put over to the little dinghy dock, then walk up the 8 steps or so to the laundry itself, which sits on top of a little rise.

The view is to die for. You can take in the view from inside the laundromat, or from the porch, or from the gazebo. And then there are the things you can do while you wait for your laundry. You can just sit and gaze at the view--including continuous sightings of the 3 or so large rays and the nurse sharks and the humongous needle fish that spend their days cruisingup and down the bay in front of the laundry. Or you can get on the free wi-fi. Or you can take a coin operated shower. (Yes--a shower! For 8 whole minutes!) Or Ida (the head honcho) can cut your hair. (She did a nice job on John's hair).

There are tasty treats to be had at the laundry store, too. Or you go next door and pick up hot conch fritters and a cold beer at Lorraine's Cafe, and enjoy that while you sit in the gazebo. And then there is the coconut bread! Lorraine's mom--she makes the bread-- lives in the house behind Lorraine's Cafe next door. You knock on her door, then make your way through her living room into her kitchen (just follow your nose). On her counter is displayed all the fresh, hot loaves of bread. In the ovens the next batch is baking. (Any loaf on her counter is virtually guaranteed to be fresh and hot because they go so fast--she bakes all day). I messed up: only got one loaf when I went with Belle and Yu-Jin, and by the time I reconsidered it they were all gone. So Nate and Caroline and I walked out with three large loaves: two coconut and one coconut/raisin. Best French toast ever.

Finally, sitting at the Laundry you are bound to run into old friends and new. Everyone stops here, and there is much exchanging of information, looking at charts, talking of weather and destinations. Without a doubt, a favorite new spot.
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