WORDS: Coming to a blog near you!

I think the Captain wants to divorce me now that he realizes that I don't always follow through with what I start...  However, that would require him following through with paperwork and other such detail-oriented nuisances, so I am - thankfully - safely married!  He does, though, keep asking when I am going to post another blog post for all my Dear Readers out there who have no clue what all we've been through the last few months.

So, here I am, updating the blog by promising to update the blog soon!  How's that for an update?!  Pretty lame, I know.

Short-short(!) version:  We ran into frustrating problems throughout our months in the Caribbean that included broken boat parts, running out of money, and storms that kept us in places much longer than we wanted to be there.  We did get to see the Turks & Caicos Islands and spent about a month and half in the Dominican Republic.  We sailed for 11 days to get back to Florida, had more boat part issues, and enjoyed seeing old friends.  We hit our first sandbar, made our first "Mayday" call to the Coast Guard, and hard our first warm shower in two months once we made it to the northern part of Florida.  Now, we are in south Alabama with Rob working on a 110-foot boat and me trying to find a career in Mobile.

I promise to make this much prettier, much more detailed, and an overall better read in the upcoming weeks, Dear Reader!  Also, because my mom kicks so much butt and gave me an AWESOME camera for my birthday, look forward to some beautiful photos from the DR!  They ARE coming... they are!

From Indian Pass, Florida - an unexpected stop.

I do apologize to you all.  No excuses.  Well, except for the excuse that most of you know me and know that I'll get around to it...  Eventually...

Fuses, Sting Rays, Cat People, and Fireworks – What a Day!

Doldrums: When the ocean meets the sky and
you honestly cannot distinguish between the two.

The Captain and I were excited to move on down the Exumas with their promise of abundant sea life and exciting corals, so even with the ever-so-slight breath of wind on the air, we decided to pull up anchor and get under way.  After a tense moment of navigating a coral-lined channel, we hoisted the sails and waited for that exciting moment every sailor loves: when the wind fills the sails and you can feel the boat lean just slightly to the side as free energy starts to push you toward your next destination.  Unfortunately, no matter which way I turned the wheel, no matter how much we asked the Wind Gods, no matter how much we blew into the sails, we weren’t moving.  The doldrums is a common phrase in modern language that originally comes from sailing terminology; it’s that point where your boat is just not going to move because there is not a lick of wind to move you!

Nurse Sharks Aplenty

Borrowed from: marinas.com

The Wednesday after Mother’s Day showed up on the weather websites as our last day of decent wind for at least a week, so we reluctantly left the Island School area to get to our next port of call: Highbourne Cay at the northern part of the Exumas.  We left at the break of dawn and experienced what I see as our most perfect sailing day to date!  The winds were blowing steady at a speed that was high enough to get us where we were heading, but low enough to stay safe (for you sailor-types, we had a good beam reach of 12-16 knot wind all day coming from our port side) and coming from the perfect direction to push us oh-so-gently to our northwestern destination (if only every day could be so easy!).  As we were making yet another sizable jump (32 miles) to enter into an unknown area with sharp rock edges and coral heads around, we were happy to make the journey quickly enough to have us drinking a glass of wine with the anchor down and the sails stowed by 5:00 in the evening!

South Eleuthera - The Bahamas’ First Settlement

After leaving Hatchet Bay, our next stop was in the first settlement of the Bahamas: Governor’s Harbour.  This sleepy little town has almost as many white people as black it would seem due mostly to people who were leaving governments and slavery laws they did not agree with.  The first night there, we stumbled into the elementary school’s variety show because I was beckoned off the boat by the smell of grilling chicken (which was not as good as the jerk chicken found in Jamaica, but still good) and the sounds of large stacks of speakers.  We were entertained by the school kids performing songs, poetry readings, and choreographed dance routines; however, I was more fascinated by all the white faces and blond hair I was seeing than by the kids whose voices were turned up to ear-splitting levels on the sound system.

North Eleuthera – Nature’s Powers

Calypso's Fire in a Hatchet Bay sunset

We were welcomed to Eleuthera by Rainbow Cay and the turquoise waters of its northern cove and white sand beach that was as ideal as any postcard you could conceive.  I jumped off the boat after breakfast to swim across the harbor toward the rocks in hopes of finding a lobster dinner for the Captain and myself, but was fairly disappointed in the amount of sea life there was in general – definitely no lobsters to be found!  After such a hard go of it the day before, the Captain and I decided to take the day to clean the boat, relax, and do some swimming in the area to just unwind.  Unfortunately, the night of rocking due to sea swells was enough of an annoyance that the next morning, we were a bit wound up again and ready to work our way back up to the original destination the night before: Alice Town off Hatchet Bay.

When Things Aren’t Wonderful…

On our last day in Nassau, the Captain and I ventured in to town with a few copies of my resume` in hand and “dress shoes” in the backpack to change into from my customary flip flops.  We had seen a sign for the Pan American Health Organization’s (PAHO) office during one of our previous trips and I was determined to at least make contact with them as a jumping-into-the-employment-search platform.  You see, PAHO is the Central/South American/Caribbean arm of the World Health Organization (WHO) and I had become familiar with them during my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer; my supervisor – Dr. Dorothy Blake – was a fairly accomplished mover and shaker within PAHO and was helping negotiate better HIV drug prices with American pharmaceutical companies while I worked for her.

Bands, Lights, Friends, and Warships

It’s been a little while since we left Nassau and I should have typed this up as soon as I could.  Unfortunately, that didn’t happen…  However, what may be fortunate for you, Dear Reader, is that means I will only write about the events that stand out in my mind now that we have left – meaning that you only get the short version of the good stuff!

The Bridge that Separates – Potter’s Cay Market (Fish Fry) Side (Part II)

Bridge with Potter's Cay (the Fish Fry) underneath

The day after our excursion to Atlantis, the Captain and I had more mundane tasks to accomplish, such as buying charts for the southern part of the Bahamas and acquiring some good fishing lures (you can read about what happened to our last one here) for helping to cut down on the cost of food.  So, by foot this time, we headed out into the big, scary city of Nassau in the direction of the marine store instead of toward the downtown hubbub of merry people from the cruise ships.  I honestly think that if some of the people we have talked to would have had a day in Nassau like the one we were in for, they would be slower to leave and quicker to compliment this town.

The Bridge that Separates – Atlantis Side (Part I)

Paradise Island Bridge and Atlantis

After such a frustrating first day in Nassau, it was good that the Captain and I spent a day getting the dinghy fixed and cleaning the boat as we chilled and found a way to just relax.  Once we knew the dinghy was in good repair, though, we knew it was time to clean and take care of ourselves: it had been 12 days since we had a proper shower (we’ve got a solar shower that I had used during that time, mind you!).  So, we loaded up some clean clothes, our towels and toiletries, and headed toward the north side of the bridge: Paradise Island and the acclaimed Atlantis.

Introduction to Nassau

The "lost city" of Atlantis from our boat

We arrived in Nassau at 5:15 in the evening – just enough time to set the anchors (we have to use two here instead of our customary one due to the current), put the sails away, tidy the boat, and cook dinner to eat while we watched sunset.  After an easy nine and a half hour motor/sail (there was almost NO wind), we were happy to have reached our destination and thankful that there was absolutely nothing noteworthy about the day’s sail.  And, now, we were drinking our cocktails as we watched the sunset to our west and saw the lights of Atlantis beginning to twinkle through the windows to the east of us. 

Easter in the Bahamas

As an anthropologist, I am a little frustrated this Easter morning, I have to admit.  In the States, today is the day when people can be seen hiding eggs and sending their kids to look for those eggs, died in pastel colors with all the people dressed in those same colors.  While every Easter tradition (colorful eggs and the hunt for them, bunnies, the idea of “rebirth”) has to do with the ancient beliefs of Ostara more than it has to with the resurrection of anybody, it is a day when people are happy and laughing – especially the kids after tearing into their Easter baskets full of chocolate and marshmallow candies. 

Bimini to Chub Cay w/ Anchorage in the Great Bahama Banks

We have just finished our scrambled eggs with summer sausage and Worcestershire Sauce complete with toasted raisin bread and a side of banana mixed with mango here in the anchorage of Chub Cay (again, pronounced “key”).  We arrived here yesterday around 5:00 in the evening after taking two days to cross from Bimini with one night spent anchored in the Great Bahama Banks.  It truly is amazing how much excitement can happen in just two short days, Dear Reader!

Our private beach

After leaving Bimini, we realized that we were in for a long day as there was really no wind to speak of.  However, we gave it the novice sailors’ hopeful try and hoisted our sails… but kept the motor running knowing that it was probably going to give us our most momentum for the day.  After all, we had chosen this day to leave based on the safety of the soft winds that were forecast for the day.

Dinner

As we were leaving, I reminded the Captain to throw his fishing line out as we motor-sailed and “rassel” us up some dinner.  It only took about an hour for this little guy to become interested in our shiny lure along with a friend of his, though the friend got away.  After having this guy swim/float in one of our buckets as the Captain read what we were supposed to do with it, the decision to clean him was made and into the refrigerator he went.   Later that night, Rob made some black beans and rice, then wrapped the fish in tinfoil after sprinkling on some salt, pepper, and random spices, threw in some cut up onion and garlic, then added the juice of a few slices of tangerine and a pat of butter.  All of that went in the oven for almost 20 minutes before we feasted on the best-tasting fish to come aboard Calypso’s Fire so far!  It’s funny: before cleaning, the fish weighed less than a pound, yet it was the perfect amount of fish for the two of us.  Silly Americans – we really do have some large portions!

Look at those TEETH!

Knowing we had no bait, I suggested that the Captain use what was left after cleaning the fish to see if we couldn’t get something a little larger for dinner.  Well, it’s no good to be greedy and we were reminded of that: a barracuda decided that he liked the look of what we were offering and clamped on.  Unfortunately, barracuda can occasionally be afflicted with a poison called ciguatera and you cannot tell until you are in severe pain that you have eaten a poisoned fish.  So, neither of us were really in the mood to bring this guy on-board the boat after the Captain had spent the better part of 15 minutes reeling him in.  But, ummm, yeah – see those teeth?  Yeah, this big fellow made off with our hook as neither of us knew much about how to stick fingers close to that mouth and dig out the hook.  (We did feel badly about hurting the fish and leaving it with the hook, so many words of apology were sent to the poor guy; unfortunately, that’s all we had to offer.)

I wish I could capture all we saw for you, Dear Readers

During the first day and half of the second, the water was that “impossible blue” I mentioned in my previous post.  To look in the water eight to fifteen feet above the bottom was to see sea grass, star fish bigger than my two hands put together, little fish swimming through the sea grass, and stunningly beautiful water the color of a baby’s blue eyes at times and like liquid emeralds at other times.  When the sun rays would come through the surface and hit a gentle wave as it was falling, I could see the electric-eel-like light on the bottom of the ocean floor for maybe a second before it was gone like a ghost.  It made it nearly impossible to steer as I kept seeing movement from the corner of my eye and always wanted to know what was going on there in the sea.

Baron watches when awake

When we laid anchor the first night, we were 38 nautical miles (1 nm = 1.2 miles, so 45.6 miles) from any land yet the ocean floor was only 15 feet below us.  You can be sure that as soon as the anchor drag alarm was set (which was really funny – what were we going to hit?!), I was wearing that water and nothing else as I swam around my home/vehicle/yacht.  The cats are still very confused by us doing this and stand on the edge of Calypso’s Fire the whole time we’re in the water watching us.

Princess MC looks down on us

By 8:00 the next morning, we had cooked and eaten breakfast, done all of our dishes, and had prepared our course to get us into Chub Cay.  (It truly is amazing how early one can get up when there are no distractions to stay up late for the night before!)  The one thing we didn’t have was any wind – and I don’t mean it was a light wind as it was the day before: I mean there was no wind at all.  So, with the sails strapped down but uncovered with hope of being used, we continued our long journey into the Berry Islands and toward the majority of the Bahamian Islands.

This day, the Captain caught another fish with his most-awesome lure, but the fish was big and strong and the line was already tired from the barracuda fight the day before.  The line broke and we lost the one fishing lure we could use without bait.  Dang.  Later that day, we did circles around a nurse shark, saw two dolphins crest and then swim off, and the dorsal fins of five whales (though they were not so curious about us and kept diving when we got too close). 

Getting to Chub Cay

Anchoring at Chub Cay was amazingly easy and uneventful, an anchorage that needed to be celebrated with a nice snorkel to get to know the area.  One of our neighboring sailboats had begun their snorkel-adventure just as we were getting everything in order and pulled up a HUGE star fish as it ate its evening meal: an even bigger lobster!  As a treat to ourselves, the Captain and I finally got to see what the bottom of our boat looks like, including when the keel is all the way down.  (Our boat was made for this kind of sailing as the keel (think a dorsal fin on the bottom of the boat) can be either very shallow, allowing us to get up close to land, or very deep for better stability when we are in extremely deep water, like the 2,000+ feet-deep water we saw the whales in yesterday.)  This nice swim was followed by the first time of what I need to make into an evening ritual: cleaning the green slime from the boat; though it’s not barnacles like in Boot Key Harbor, the bottom of the boat needs to be cleaned for speed, longevity of the paint, and – but of course – for the ascetics of seeing a pretty girl!

Yep, I gotta drive, too!

So, today, we’re going to shore to see if we can’t get some internet, then head out to Mama Rhoda Rock for some snorkeling that is supposed to be divine!  I have to admit, Dear Reader, last night, I had one of my laughing fits that was brought on by nothing really and could be stopped by absolutely nothing.  At some point during it, the line “I live on a boat in the Bahamas” kept me laughing so hard I had tears running down my face.  The laughing and crying got confused there for a minute as I couldn’t figure out how to wrap my head around that fact: it’s beautiful and scary, awesome and overwhelming, real and surreal - all at the same time.  This morning, though, the overwhelming feelings of both high and low are gone, leaving behind a relaxed and carefree feeling that is only possible when I let go and just allow this life to sink in on me.

Fun only for humans

On an Environmental Note:  The Captain and I went as much out of our way as possible when we saw glistening, floating objects on the water.  The first of these was 12 miles off-shore and Rob’s first reaction was that it was a man-o-war, a favorite treat for sea turtles.  As I was very interested to see something that huge and poisonous floating through the water, we got closer and closer until – through binoculars – the Captain finally determined the cause of our interest: a Mylar balloon.  TWELVE MILES off-shore!  However, this would be the first of FIVE balloons we saw in our 76 nm crossing, the biggest of them being a Minnie Mouse balloon floating just past the halfway point.  While we were determined to net them and bring them on-board to be disposed of after being popped, not all boaters will do the same.  Honestly, prevention is MUCH better than relying on a conscientious boater; please do NOT let balloons go flying off into the atmosphere if you can prevent it.  I realize that kids lose balloons and they truly do it on accident because they want to play with their toy, but if it can be prevented, it should be.  We humans are not on this planet alone and turtles do not have the processing skills to determine that a Mylar balloon is not food and is not healthy for them.  Please, do your part: once balloons are finished, pop them and throw them away.  And, while it’s “neat” to see balloons fly off in huge packs of color and delight, the five minutes you will forget about the next day leaves a trail of danger for sea life.

Our new friends in Bimini

I write this blog while motor-sailing from North Bimini to Chub Cay (pronounced “key”), though we know we can’t make it all the way today because, at 76 nautical miles (nm) from one place to the next, when we are moving at about 5 nmph ("knots"), we would have to do another over-night sail.  Incredibly, because the Great Bahamas Banks are in-between our two destinations, we will be able to drop anchor with no land in sight and spend the night completely surrounded by water!  So, we are about 6.5 hours into a roughly nine-hour sail and I figured now was the perfect time to introduce all of you to our Bimini adventures!

Hernan taking a picture of "us"

Marty

On our first day, I had found a job I was interested in applying for, so the Captain went to explore our surrounding boats as I worked on the computer; however, as it is not quite Bimini’s tourist season yet, he had only a handful of boats to explore.  While poking around, the Captain saw a couple at the end of one dock with a 52-foot Irwin parked beside them; the couple was sitting on folding beach chairs and had their feet propped on a blow-up ottoman.  Rob concluded that these men knew how to spend their time in the Bahamas and decided to get some recommendations for what to do.  After a couple of hours of talking to them, the Captain was served a Bahama Mama, complete with orange slice, a small umbrella, and a cake decoration of a red-headed Barbie.  It. WAS. AWESOMENESS!!!

We spent a good amount of time with Marty and Hernan (pronounced “Er-non”) over the next few days, including having drinks with them that night as they introduced us to our other neighbors, Paula and Lance from the 48-foot ship at the end of our dock.  Drinks turned into a group tour to watch sunset from the white-sand beach with conch shell scattered across the coastline and huts of tiki-covered beach beds every few feet (beds which were easily pulled around on the beach to get the perfect sunset angle).  To get there, we rode our bikes, looking like an alternative universe’s idea of a “biker gang” with most of us having baskets/carriage platforms on our bikes and flip-flops on our feet.  After such an exhausting day of recovering from the 23-hour passage, it seemed as though soaking in that sauna pool with our new-found friends was a good idea.

Hernan and the Captain share a quiet sunset

The next day, the Captain and I finally put everything away and cleaned up the boat; you’d be surprised how very little “living” builds up in the cockpit very quickly, making me feel as though the boat is somehow half its actual size.  Then, after taking advantage of the Infinity Pool and warm-watered showers, the Captain and I moved the boat into an anchorage almost halfway down the channel.  This was to get away from a nightly per-foot dock fee, though we would have done better to stay in the small man-made cove right behind us  which was built for large ships.  Instead, we spent the night with a power plant’s white-noise hum all night and the lights from the same plant in our faces all night while the current swept the boat closer to shore inch-by-inch.  Yeah, we didn’t sleep so well that night.

That night, we had gone to dinner with our new group of friends, one of whom had lost a pair of sunglasses near to our boat.  So, the next morning after breakfast and dish-cleaning, I finally got to snorkel in Bahamian water… in the small main channel that runs north between two pieces of land that are decently near to one another.  I have NO idea how salmon do it!  However, Paula must have evolved from fish from the way she swam and fought the current, determined to find the lost sunglasses – and, within an hour of swimming and dinghy-towing “snorkeling”, she found them!

Baby conch (pronounced "conk")

Following this, the Captain and I promptly moved Calypso’s Fire to the previously mentioned man-made cove right next to the marina we had moved out of less than 18 hours before.  After snacking, the 12-Pedal Gang took a ride out to the Bimini Spring (see pictures), passing a group of three men who were in the process of slaughtering a goat on the beach-side (I have not included pictures of this for those who are not up to seeing it; I have them, though, if you are interested).  Hernan was able to speak with the men in Spanish, though I learned that my own is fairly rusty… well, at least my “you’re-slaughtering-an-animal-here” Spanish is.  Returning from the “Spring”, we stopped at the conch “nursery” where we were able to see hundreds of baby conch, picking up a few to see what a snail with such a beautiful shell would look like (don’t worry, we put them back in the water as soon as the photo was snapped!).

Absenthe done right!

After some downtime, Hernan and Marty had the other two couples to their boat for dinner: hamburgers grilled by Paula and Lance and hotdogs grilled by the hosts.  Except, it was SO much more than hotdogs!!!  There were appetizers, gourmet hotdogs, hamburgers w/ cheese melted on them, and yummy sides; this was followed by a round of Absinthe for all with breaded ice cream balls drizzled in chocolate sauce for dessert!  All of this, though, was really just dressing on the beautiful cake of getting to know our new friends, some of the most fun, intelligent, interesting, warm and welcoming people we have gotten to meet!

Our new friends

"Impossible blue"

The Captain and I went by dinghy with the men of Oceanaire to see the end of the island and the blue of the Bahamian waters: “impossible blue”, as Hernan called it with all appropriateness.  This prompted us to head out the next day and round to the west side of the island; unfortunately, after cleaning up (again), we headed out pretty late and had to stay the night where we were.  When you are being hit by ocean swell waves as opposed to waves created by wind, they hit you from whatever side they want to and even the small waves are EVIL!  We have since learned a rope trick to help cut down on this problem, but that night was the worst I have spent on the boat by far.

The next day was spent moving around the island, first getting to the northern end and snorkeling around Three Sisters, three rocks not far from shore.  There were many unfamiliar fish, though wild-life was not as abundant as I had been expecting – especially after having seen manta rays jumping out of the channel and a nurse shark swimming in a marina on South Bimini.  The fact, though, that we could see our anchor and the lines in the sand next to it was MORE than enough to make up for the less-than abundant wildlife!

We have one without her - but it's just not as fun!

Our final day in Bimini was spent on the northeast side of the island on what felt like our own personal white-sand beach.  We had sailed over the day before and I insisted to a fairly cooperative husband that I did not want to leave without a full day of anchoring next to this beach.  We took the cats to shore so they could run, roll in the sand, and chase after bugs; they did all that and then dug a cool spot under a tree and went to sleep.  Rob and I?  We read, played in the water, and saw only one other human on the beach with us: a hiker who was too busy being in her quiet place to interlope into ours. 

View from "our" beach

We appreciated that.

The BIG Jump: Crossing the Gulf Stream

It's sea turtles - I promise!

As we approached the Channel 5 Bridge, there were two sailboats coming at us from the Atlantic side, a case that was a first for us and Calypso’s Fire: going through an unknown bridge for the first time while negotiating how wide the opening was and the speeds of other boats.  All went well and as planned, though, with us passing under the bridge between the two on-coming ships.  As the nose of the boat entered the sun’s 4:00 shadow cast by the bridge, I noticed a flipper coming up from the surface of the water, as to wave us “goodbye” and “good luck” on our journey.  I was fairly certain it was a sea turtle and as we came right up on it, I learned I was right and wrong: the flipper belonged to a sea turtle, alright, but we weren’t seeing just one turtle, it was two... and the two we were seeing may have been a little wrapped up in their mating to care about our departure from the United States!

The sapphire color is impossible to capture!

What 2000+ feet deep looks like

Motoring through the channel and anxiously waiting for the time when I could finally kill the engine with sails flying over us, the Captain and I surveyed the area and became excited about the sparkling blue water that surrounded us.  While it felt wonderful to see such clear water, we had no idea the blues that awaited for us as we crossed the Gulf Stream… but I’ll come to that in a bit.  First, we had to keep an open for eye out for the Gulf Stream itself, knowing that we weren’t really going to see it like the freeway flow on “Finding Nemo”, but searching for it anyway in my child-like excitement.

What I found, instead, was a dislike and discomfort with the rolling waves: uuuup, dooooown, uuuuuup, dooooooooown, uuuuuuuuuup, doooooooooooown.  Soon, I found myself in an all-too-familiar pose as of late that I like to call the “At Least I Can Make It Off the Side of the Boat” pose, an unfortunate thing that thankfully the cats have learned to no longer need.  The Captain keeps telling me that I’ll get used to the motion of the waves and will no longer get sick…  One part of me wants to trust the man who was in the Navy for four years and went out on long cruises throughout the world.  The other part of me knows that he has only once been sea sick in his life and that was with ~90% of the crew on board because of the harshness of that day’s waves.  In short, I don’t know whether or not I trust his “it’ll get better” speech anymore.

The plan was for us to take three-hour shifts once we were really going: one of us would sleep while the other steered for those three hours.  Because I had known of the plan, I had thought we would stay up late the night before, sleep late, and not need sleep for quite a while once we were sailing.  Instead, the Captain had fallen asleep early, woken up early, and I had a restless night of sleeping and waking, then was up early with the Captain because I couldn’t sleep through his breakfast-making and deck-cleaning.  Needless to say, I was quite tired and the sea sickness was not helping this; down into the aft cabin (our room) I went for my first three-hour nap, one fraught with panicked awakenings at weird noises and a rolling body.

Once I finally got used to the rhythm and found a way for the boat’s rocking to be comforting, I drifted off to sleep for what felt like 20 seconds, though it was about two hours.  The Captain was exhausted at 11:30 and needed me to be ready to take the helm.  Whether I had slept two hours or 20 seconds, I needed to take over and let him get some rest – that’s how it works on a boat.

With cold – but very strong – coffee in hand, I took the wheel, looked out on the peaceful horizon of stars and cruise ships, and figured out which set of stars I needed to keep on my starboard (right-hand side of the boat) in order to stay on course.  I had the next three hours to: sit; to hold and steer the wheel; to stare off into the distance; to listen to the sounds the boat makes as it cuts through the ocean; to delight at the incandescent greenish sparkles of tiny creatures that live in the water and only can be seen when there is movement; to think about the fact that a year ago, this was as close to a pipe dream as I can imagine; to reflect on the people I have met and the lessons I have learned in the sailing world; to give thanks for all I have…  It was actually probably the fastest two hours and 40 minutes I have had in quite a while.  The last 20 minutes of my watch were harsh because my body was ready to go to sleep.

Beautiful rainbow

We can haz fish?

In the morning, the nausea was coming back, but I tried SO hard to watch the beautiful blue of seas that are more than 2,000 feet deep; our depth sounder stopped trying to tell us how deep it was at 745 feet!  Though the stomach was not in the best of moods, I tried my hardest to have fun in it.  Between the beautiful rainbow I was greeted by in the morning and watching the Captain clean a fish he had hooked on his trolling line for the cats, the morning was fun and adventurous! 

And the fact that we were sailing our home to another country just kept astounding me!

The entrance to the Bimini Islands

By the time we were sailing into North Bimini, the Bahamas, we were cracking lunatic jokes and getting anxious about being there.  It was around 1:30 in the afternoon and we had hoped to be pulling in around 6:30 in the morning, so our timing was a bit off.  We had been warned to be careful of how we went in and so we were; that didn’t really matter though, because we still did it wrong, coming into the shallowest water we had yet to be in while surfing in waves toward a rock wall.  By grace and the Captain’s good eye, we were able to get safely into the channel and start our way into the Bahamas.

Bimini Bay Marina

We had been told that there are marinas where you can stay for $1 per foot; however, while coming in, we tried almost every marina and didn’t get answered until we were calling the one furthest from us – the one which is $2 per foot.  That’s the one big thing that’ll get you after the boat is paid off: the bigger it is, the more it hurts when they charge by the foot.  The Captain, too exhausted to worry about whether or not we were moving when we dropped the anchor for the night said that we should just go to the marina and pay for the comfort of a good night’s sleep.  As we had learned through the regatta that sometimes money needs to be spent, we went to the marina for the night.

After parking in the marina (yep, will need to work on those skills!) and having the most well-deserved beer either of us had earned in quite a while, we headed to Customs and Immigration, having been surprised to learn that, yes, they are open on a Sunday afternoon.  We rode our bikes the three miles through half the island of North Bimini, realizing that this government office must be the only thing open on a Sunday at 4:15 in the afternoon.  Though a few people were out, the streets were quiet and we soon learned that a “good afternoon” and a smile was customary when passing someone on the road.

Customs and Immigration was – amazingly! - a breeze.  We were overwhelmingly relieved to find after such a long trip.  Customs saw our personal and boat documentation, the laminated certificates for the cats of their vaccinations and proof of being fixed (which I don’t think he even cared about), and found out what we have on-board (two bikes, one dinghy, and one motor on that dinghy – it’s to make sure people are not importing goods by boat in order to avoid paying import duty).  Finally, they gave us our fishing license, took our money, and reminded us to go to Immigration.  There, the friendly desk clerk looked at our documents, told us we get to stay for 90 days, stamped our passports, and wished us a great day.  He was a super friendly, helpful young man – something most other government agencies are lacking Mondays-Fridays; could you imagine what they would be like if tourists came in 20 minutes before closing on a SUNDAY?!?!

Getting started right - sunset on the beach!

That night, the Captain and I cooked dinner on the boat, drank a few cold beers (though we were both so exhausted that only a few felt like a case!), and relaxed in the sauna pool under the Bahamian stars.  As we stretched in the warm water, patting ourselves on the back for a job well-done, we realized that – once again – paying the money that we have but can’t spend freely was well worth it!  After all, anyone who crosses the Gulf Stream eight months and fourteen days since making the decision to do so deserves a little pampering!

Quick - before it's gone! Part Two: Anniversaries and Anchorages

Once we knew that we were sea-worthy and stocked up, the Captain and I were ready - I mean ready - to get under sail and truly, finally become "cruisers".  And, as we neared our second wedding anniversary, I was becoming nearly panicked that we would still be hooked on to a mooring ball in Boot Key Harbor, so we really wanted to kick it into gear.  I mean, seriously?  How could we possibly follow last year's Pirate Ship Cruise in New Zealand for our first anniversary with sitting on a mooring ball which we had been on for almost three months?!?!  (please go back and reread this part in the most sarcastic, princessy voice possible)

She now knows staying on deck helps with the sea-sickness!

On March 19, the day before our anniversary, Rob and Captain Jim (see last post) finished tuning the rigging in the morning, all ship "stuffs" were stowed and ready for rocking, and the cats had been told to prepare themselves - a phrase that went over their heads until the motor was started...  Once the motor was started, the yelling at us began.  Thankfully, though, this is now short-lived as they are learning where they need to be when we are under way to remain comfortable.

Quick - before it's gone! Part One: Race Day

I feel as though I need to get this all out there, down on "paper" before it leaves my head and I can't get all of the details correct anymore.  It's midnight, though, and I'm not sure I can get through all of it... BUT, there is some more vodka and mango juice, so - just sit right back and read along!

We fell a little behind in the beginning - but it sure was beautiful! 

RACE DAY: Previously on norealplan, I told you, Dear Readers, that we were thinking about entering into the Sombrero Shamrock Regatta, a 14.5 mile race that we were on the fence about entering.  As soon as I closed the computer, the Captain and I headed to the bar/restaurant where the Skipper's meeting for the race was held with every intention of having a few drinks and finding a boat which was already racing that would let us crew for them...  What we did was have a few drinks and invite someone on-board to captain our boat through the race, allowing us to crew for him and make sure everything was in good working order; or, as Rob loved to say, have our "shake down cruise" and see what our boat is made of.

Next step: Breaking Loose!

Here we are, 16 days after we thought we would be leaving for the Bahamas, still sitting on the same mooring ball we attached ourselves to New Year's Eve.  In my last post, I lamented about not being able to comfortably swim in the waters that surround our boat and about my desire to begin our sailing adventure.  And, ALAS, the day has finally come!

Pirates ARRRrrr Around!

So close... yet so surreal

I think we're ready... I'm pretty sure the boat is ready.  Now, we just need the wind to be ready (though the longer we stay, the more we find to get done before we leave - so who knows whether or not we are actually ready?!)  This has to be one of the most surreal and chillingly realistic points of my life so far.  All I can imagine coming close to this feeling is being a week away from your first child's due date: you know you've gotten as ready as you're going to be, you see that there is SO much more to be done, you know it's about to happen, and you feel this huge emptiness of having NO idea what is about to be "reality" though you know it will change everything.

Getting used to it... Well, working on getting used to it.

Some of you may wonder what it's like to live on a boat, the day-to-day part of actually living while on a boat.  In order to answer that, I thought I might run you through a few "typical" days we are having here in the harbor, then give you a few things that are essential for us to think about.  These - as you will see - are parts of life we definitely took for granted while on land and make me both love and hate living on a boat.

What's in a name?...

WELL, there are so many things in a name when you get to name your very own 35-year-old-but-still-unnamed boat that will take you on a dream come true!  As a build-up (I'd make a great fiction writer, huh?!), there is something here in the harbor called The Cruiser's Net (or just "The Net" around here) which happens at 9:00 every morning through our VHF radio.  We turn our radio on along with any number of the 200+ boaters in the area - not just people here in the harbor, but any boats within ~1 mile who want to listen in and be a part of the boating community.  We weren't even in the harbor yet when we started listening in, gaining access to helpful information, and acquiring random things for the boat - including the safety net for the cats and any small humans that come aboard (which we got for free)!

So, let me explain what happens: At 9:00 a.m. on the dot(!), one of seven people (one for each day of the week) comes over channel 68 stating that they are The Net Controller of the morning and explains that it is a "controlled net".  What this means is that every person has to state their boat name, be given permission to speak by the controller, then they can proceed with whatever they want to share with everyone.  During the next 15-30 minutes, local boaters: share the names of boats which have just gotten here or are on their way out; share announcements about both the boating community and the city that surrounds us; have a chance to ask other boaters for help (advice, phone numbers, physical help with a project, borrowing of tools, etc.); can buy/sell/trade random stuff on their boat; and participate in random trivia.  This is a wonderful way to keep the boating community fairly tight-knit because there is the opportunity to verbally communicate every day.

On the hook

First and foremost, we want to thank everyone who sent/bought us so many needed items for the holidays - we actually don't know how to thank you enough!  We realize how blessed we are because we have everything we need and then so much more!!!  We know that we would not be able to be where we are if we did not have all of our loved ones helping us out, either through the items we need or through the encouragement and support you send.  Both are blessings to us and we give thanks to you and the Universe for you being in our lives!

In previous blogs, I have mentioned our Dock Lord, the man who was renting the house we were tied up behind.  Now, as much as we appreciated that he had experience as a live aboard boater, we did not appreciate his pessimism or some of the hostilities we felt from within the house.  Furthermore, a week before Christmas, the Dock Lord informed Rob that he knew we are on a really tight budget but that his electricity bill was $50 higher than he had thought it would be, so he was going to double our $225 monthly rent.  Rob promptly told him that we would be out by the end of the month and got to work making sure that would happen.