Charms and Challenges
27 March 2017
All cruising destinations present a unique mix of charms – and of challenges.
Clearly, if there were no charms, then why bother to go there at all? Keep in mind that “charms” come in many forms and are dependent on what the cruiser wants, needs, or just what suits at the time. When the boat needs heavy maintenance or repair, an otherwise bleak location that has great support services available can be utterly charming. Sometimes the cruiser wants or needs a large and gregarious cruising community nearby – sometimes being the solitary anchored boat in an idyllic location is what suits best. Charms are, like beauty, in the eyes of the beholder.
Bottom line – the range of potential charms is vast but it is clear that without them or the promise of them we would never raise the anchor and move on.
The need for challenges is harder to define and defend. Let me give an example from my own cruising life.
In 2012, I arrived at Cape Breton, the island off the northern tip of Nova Scotia. Having heard many great things about the island and the Bras d’Or Lakes enclosed within, this had been a long-standing goal of mine. A previous trip to Nova Scotia which had had Cape Breton as its eventual goal fell short as too many good times while hopping north and east along the Atlantic Coast left me out of time at Liscombe.
Arriving at St.Peters at the southern end of Cape Breton and entering the Bras d’or Lakes through the locks at St. Peters, I soon found that the press releases of other cruisers were most certainly NOT overstated. The waters and natural scenery were beautiful, the people even more friendly and helpful than those of mainland Nova Scotia (that may seem hard to imagine for anyone who has experienced the people of mainland Nova Scotia), the music scene vibrant, ubiquitous and interesting in its diversity, and the waters and anchorages most often uncrowded – to say the least. I was often the only boat in the harbor – and this during prime cruising season!
It was wonderful.
And yet, after 2-3 weeks of wandering about, I was getting bored. The anchorages had good protection all around. The holding was universally excellent. The winds always died at night and yet often built a nicely sailable southwesterly breeze in the afternoon. There was virtually no tide or currents to deal with and the fog (infamously encountered often elsewhere along the coast) was almost completely banished from the inner lakes by their warmer waters.
There was nothing to worry about.
I ended up moving back south and exiting the Lakes, opting instead for a cruise up the foggy west coast of Cape Breton dealing with narrow, shallow, and current-ripped entrances to tiny harbors, much more festive sea conditions and other real ocean pestilence.
Was this masochistic on my part? Or, is the need for a “rational” amount of challenge an inherent one to those who cruise in sailboats? Clearly the definition of “rational challenge” is as individual and varied as the definition of “Charms”. But still…
Which brings me to the Bahamas – the current cruising case in point.
I have found that the balance between charms and challenges here in the Bahamas has skewed negatively for me during this (my 5th) visit here. Fancy words. Said more simply, I have not enjoyed this winter’s cruise to the extent and in the same way as previous visits.
I have spent a fair amount of time trying to understand whether it is me that has changed or is it the Bahamas? The most likely answer would be that it is a mix of both.
Winter cruising in the Bahamas is first and foremost challenged by the weekly fronts that roar through, churn things up big for 2-3 days, slowly lose potency resulting in 1-2 days of pleasant winds and weather which is then followed by 1-2 days of little or no wind as the next front approaches. Repeat cycle ad nauseum. I’ve written of these weather patterns often in the past.
The fronts didn’t seem this bad during my earlier trips.
And yet, I remember “experienced Bahamas cruisers” telling me during my first cruise here 10 years ago: “This year is worse than ever. It’s never been this bad before!” By the time I myself qualified as an “experienced Bahamas cruiser” a few trips later, I was saying the exact same thing to the newbies in the harbor. I suspect that I was wrong then and, although I currently believe in my heart that THIS YEAR is the worst year ever, I suspect that that is wrong as well. This is all purely subjective – I have no data one way or another. Perhaps global warming is creating more prevalent and more virulent fronts – or, more likely, perhaps it’s just that human beings are blessed (or cursed depending on your perspective) with very selective memory. The good times overshadow the bad.
An example from earlier this year:
I was in Rock Sound Harbor getting ready to get blown to bits for 2-3 days by one of the stronger fronts of the season. Seven boats were in the harbor and before the festivities were forecasted to begin we all moved over to the west side of the harbor, set good hooks and checked them and got ready to hunker down for the duration. However, I remembered that during a previous Bahamas cruise, hunkered down in the exact same spot for a very similar blow my friend, Kelly, a guest aboard at the time, and I organized bonfires on the beach two of the evenings of the blow. These were great times with fun people and were my primary takeaway from that week’s weather bashing.
I decided to promote and organize the idea of a similar beach bonfire for the final evening of this year’s blow. Long story short – the guys met ashore during that afternoon, gathered wood and built a majestic bonfire to be lit that night, everyone outdid themselves by preparing great food to share and there was plenty to drink as well as party lights and beach type music (think Jimmy Buffet). We had a great time! And, that is what I will remember about that bit of time in Rock Sound – not the 2-1/2 days of getting blown to bits in a bouncy harbor.
Despite the entertainments and diversions we employ to minimize the pain of our weekly weather pestilence – it has taken an inordinate toll on me this year.
Other challenges that are growing in the Bahamas?
Well, prices are rising – it is getting increasingly painful to order a cold beer in most places – really painful considering how much I enjoy cold beer. Ditto nice lunches ashore. Are these new challenges or reduced charms? I am not sure.
Certain parts of the Bahamas have been changing and continue to evolve to become more like Miami East. One Sunday morning at Big Majors Cay, a harbor now heavily infested with large power yachts, one of the yachts winched down two large, powerful and noisy jet skis and proceeded to run them at full throttle around the anchorage – at 8:00 in the morning! While such behavior is not ubiquitous, the trend is clear.
In a recent blog posting titled “Oh How Cruising Has Changed!” I bemoaned the apparently increasing lack of connection within the cruiser’s community. This is nowhere more evident than here in the Bahamas.
All of these items have diminished this cruise for me. Undoubtedly, I could add more items to this laundry list.
And yet, the balance of charms and challenges that works out for each person is unique. All that I know for sure is that it is not working well for me this year. And, I suspect that this reflects changes in me as much or more than the obvious changes here in the Bahamas.
This commentary should not be taken as all gloom and doom. It is probably unfortunate that I have the most time available for composing blog posts while hunkered down for a front. It undoubtedly colors the tone of my writing. Today’s mood is a clear example of that. (Authors Note: I am editing this text a few days later with sunnier skies, calmer seas and a correspondingly better mood.)
The fact is that I have met many new and wonderful people this winter and reconnected with many old friends. There have been great cocktail hours on the beach or in one of many cockpits. I have swum, paddled, sailed KR and Katerik, walked pristine beaches and hiked rugged Bahamian islands. There were Pizza Nights and coffee breaks with shared apple scones and myriad other fun times. One especially memorable day had me cast in the role of sailing instructor for three home schooled kids on a catamaran anchored nearby in Hatchet Bay. Ziva, Ahava and Samuel all agreed that that day’s lesson had been their absolute favorite home school day ever. It certainly was great fun for me. On the other hand, I did find less enthusiasm in myself for snorkeling this year – not sure that I have an explanation for that. Perhaps if I were a fisherman???
One challenge that I now struggle with that clearly was not as big a concern in my earlier visits – my cruising has evolved to a point where I am now far more focused on boat maintenance issues such as maintaining bright work and keeping the boat crust free, clean and waxed. While I have always given KR good care it is true now that having invested a significant amount of effort in KR’s cosmetics, I am finding it more pressing to keep up with the maintenance. This reflects a change in my priorities and one that now affects my enjoyment of the Bahamas a great deal. The brilliant, at times brutally hot sun and harsh conditions are tough on boats. This is an area with little rain during the winter and water is precious. A festive sail here (is there another kind of sail here?) results in a VERY salty boat, with large salt crystals encrusting everything topside. Polishing stainless could be a continuous effort and keeping the bright work up nearly so. After a boat move I will, over the course of a few days, just get everything clean – hopefully with the help of a rain squall – before it is time to move the boat and once again starting the process.
Yes, I accept the part that OCD plays in this (as with many other aspects in my life) but I find myself lusting after the nice rains of more northern waters. Even the Caribbean was better in this regard. Coincidentally, there is actually a nice shower going on right now – I’ll be out busily wiping the boat down with the chamois a little later. Nope – No OCD there!
This somewhat disjointed discussion of the charms and challenges of a Bahamian cruise is not just the product of a bored sailor’s rum-addled brain. As always, I continue to question what kind of cruiser I want to be when I grow up and where, and how best, to do it.
One answer has now become clear to me. When KR starts her move north through Bermuda towards Nova Scotia and Newfoundland in a month(ish) she will be leaving tropical waters astern for at least a 2-3 years – perhaps longer. That inherently means that I will, at least temporarily, abandon the 1-year duration cruises which have been my paradigm for the last 11 years in favor of 5-6 month cruises in northern waters.
Now – where exactly that will take me remains a mystery to be solved. Who can tell? There are many options on the table. Stay tuned.
Best to all.
PS The Pic - The Hope Town Light House – the last operating kerosene fueled lighthouse in the world – or so they advertise. I can attest that its light is visible at least 15 miles away as I have passed offshore of it twice during this winter’s cruise. The Hope Town Lighthouse is, along with quaint, colorful Hope Town itself, very, very charming.