We have had so many comments about how relaxed we appear. To many, it really seems like we are living the "life of Riley". To those who think that this cruising life is all peaches and cream, I pose the following question: Is getting out of one's comfort zone a good thing or a bad thing? How to decide? Psychologists often say that a certain amount of stress in one's life is a good thing. How much is too much?

This last week or so has had a lot of "out-of-comfort-zone" experiences. I felt uncomfortable leaving Thompson Bay on Thursday before last, given the wind and swell forecasts for the area. Whatever the misgivings that Thursday night, we anchored in Calabash Bay at the north end of Long Island, after a day of motoring. The "wrap-around swell" (swells from the west, although the wind from the Northeast, even though we were anchored on the northwest side of the island) had me pitching in our berth, and halfway through the night, I moved to the aft cabin where I felt I could at least pitch around in peace. On Friday morning, we had planned to go to Conception Island, but looking at the north winds and swells, we decided to go to Rum Cay instead. We motor sailed to Rum Cay, and had to navigate through a mine field of coral heads (some of which might be shallow enough to damage the boat) on entry to the anchorage in the bay.

So then was Sunday morning, and with no Chris Parker forecast on Sunday mornings, we could only re-look at previous day's forecast, and it didn't look good to me to go to Conception. Forecast called for big winds later and big swells today. John felt comfortable that we could handle it so we headed out to Conception. You see, we really, really wanted to go to Conception ever since we heard about it from someone on the meat truck (but that's another story). Conception is part of the Bahamas National Trust (national park system) which is supposed to be sooooo beautiful: the snorkeling, the tidal creek with its turtles, the water so clear it looks as though the boat is sitting in air.... The good news from my perspective was that it's only 20 miles or so to the anchorage in West Bay, Conception. So we headed out, put up the sails, and started on a good sail....except that the swells looked like houses to me! The swells were easily 4-5 m, which is waaaay beyond my comfort zone. I felt like we are going up and down as much as forward.

We arrived at the "anchorage" at the northwest end of Conception on Sunday afternoon, which is a coral and rock strewn area of known surge. OK, you can anchor there, which is a plus, but really! I don't normally get seasick, but even I was feeling queasy at this point. We have learned how to put out a swell bridle, but we weren't even sure which way to put it to stop the icky feeling. All night long, I could hear the waves break on the reef behind the boat AND the breakers on the beach in front of the boat! I can only hope it's a better anchorage in calm weather.

The one thing John and I really wanted to do at Conception was dinghy up the mangrove tidal creek on the island. But with breakers on the beach, could we? Should we? We realized the dangers (dinghy breaking up of the beach of a deserted island with no one around...no cell coverage....) and agreed that it wouldn't be prudent to take the dinghy ride. Whew! So the question of the day being "is getting out of one's comfort zone a good or bad thing?" I think my answer has something to do with cumulative effect of anxiety over several days. Whoa! I think I was in stunned mode at this point. My hope was that the next day looked a little better than this one....

So on Monday morning after the aborted dinghy ride, we decided to sail to Cat Island, about 30 miles. OK, so on Sunday, the swells looked like houses to me. On Monday they looked like apartment buildings, easily 5-6 m! John had a wonderful sail, while I hid down below with my head in a book so that I could ignore the fact that every 13 seconds we were in a very deep valley!

We arrived at Cat Island later on Monday, and ended up spending four nights there to wait out a front that was due to come through. Those four nights were very good for reducing the stress that had been building up by some of those earlier passages. It's interesting that some cruisers who have been doing winter in the Bahamas for several years mentioned to us that the fronts and winds this year are out of the ordinary.

By the way, you should know that Cat Island claim to fame is that it's the home of Sidney Poitier. Also, remember I told you about Father Jerome and the two churches in Clarence Town, Long Island? More about Father Jerome: it turns out he was an architect before becoming a minister. That's why he was entrusted with building churches that would withstand hurricanes. Father Jerome retired on Cat Island, asking the bishop to allow him to build a hermitage at the top of a hill on Cat Island. His wish was granted and John and I hiked up to the highest point in the Bahamas, 206 feet, to see the hermitage he built. Apparently he built everything by hand between the ages of approximately 60-80! In addition to his dwelling, he also did a series of sculptures on the hill leading up to his place for the Stations of the Cross. See the photos of this on the blog. It would be hard not to be moved by the work we saw there. Perfect fit with the time of year.

We had a nice visit at Cat, hooking up with a boater who had been our "neighbor" in Georgetown, Steve, a single hander, on Slow Flight. We're on a similar trajectory towards Marsh Harbor, so we decided to travel towards there together. As the trip from Cat to Eleuthera is more than a day's voyage, today we've anchored at Little San Salvador, a small island between Cat Island and Eleuthera. This island has been purchased by Holland America Line to be a little playground for its passengers. We arrived early afternoon to see a cruise ship holding just outside the bay. The bay was filled with passengers having fun: horseback riding, parasailing, jet skiing, kite flying, fish finding tour boats, beach filled with lounge chairs, huts selling local straw crafts, etc. Thankfully, all passengers were back aboard by 3:30 and the cay was ours. As much as the cruises are deluxe, I still prefer our boat...stress or no stress!