Bahamas Bound

Wow. I am so far behind on my blog posts. I wrote this one back in February, soon after returning from the Bahamas. It’s now mid-June, and I am finally getting around to adding in some photos so that I can post this blog.

My lame-ass excuse for not posting it sooner is that I’ve been busy, which has only a bit of truth to it. Sure, I have been working at Za. I’ve done more than my share of yard work. I’ve even gone on another sailing trip, and I do have another one of my self-gratifying blogs in the works about that adventure as well. I do have to get my ass back in gear with these blogs. I often have ideas for blog posts about other things, not just sailing, and the only way I will get to them is by actually sitting down at my trusty Lenovo and writing them…

After 3 weeks in Arlington, I’m back in West Palm Beach sans Colleen. I will be sailing with my friends Tom and Mary from West Palm across the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas on their Mason 44 sailboat.

Our original plan was to do this sail with Colleen a few weeks ago; however, battery charging issues delayed the trip. Now I was hoping to have Colleen with us to enjoy some beautiful sailing, weather, and the beaches the Bahamas are known for. It was all part of my ploy to get Colleen into the boating lifestyle. Well, I will have to keep trying. While I’m sailing, she will be working (somebody has to).

West Palm Beach Sailing Club.

I arrived in West Palm on a Tuesday afternoon, Ubered to the West Palm Beach Sailing Club where Tom met me on his dinghy to ferry me out to Glory. I stowed my gear and talked with Tom and Mary about the itinerary, the weather, and our routing for our expected departure the next morning.

After I was in the loop, we headed to the fancy-ass marina, Safe Harbor, and their restaurant, Lamarina for some Happy Hour cocktails and sushi. We met up with Wayne and Gwyn. Wayne is the person who ultimately helped Tom and Mary figure out what the issue was with Glory’s battery charging situation.

After a couple of drinks, we headed out to Wayne and Gwyn’s boat, Gwayne, a Lagoon 45, a big beautiful catamaran. I was curious and I love checking out other boats. This one is really like a condo on the water. After Wayne gave us a tour we sat around in the cockpit and playing a few round of some card game that I had never heard of before. It was all good fun, and soon we hopped back into the dinghy and headed to Glory for a good nights sleep.

The next morning, Wednesday, February 4th, we pulled up our anchor just after 8. The 155-mile trip across the Gulf Stream to Great Harbour in the Berries, a group of islands 45 miles north of Nassau, should take us about 24 hours. Our planned arrival time is mid-morning on Thursday, February 5th.

Our route from West Palm to Nassau.

Overall it was a very easy trip across, almost all of it was under sail. During the day the three of us hung in the cockpit, adjust the sails as needed, which wasn’t often, taking a nap and doing a bit of reading. It was a very pleasant day.

The sun is setting behind Tom as we work our way across the Gulf Stream.

Overnight, Tom and I traded off 3 hour shifts at the helm. Again, everything was quite benign, keeping track of other boats and a couple of cruise ships making the crossing at the same time as us.

Turquoise water sliding under Glory as we close in on
Great Harbour.

On Thursday morning, just after sunrise, as planned, we were in sight of The Berries, the beautiful, yet shallow, turquoise waters that the Bahamas are known for were sliding under Glory’s hull. By 11am, we were tucked into a dock in the Great Harbor Marina.

A cool cut that we had to pass through to get to the Great Harbour Marina.

Clearing customs was definitely “on Bahamas time”, a process that should have taken just a few minutes, but dragged on for 3 hours. Eventually, we were cleared and could move around the island as desired.

Great Harbour Marina

We hopped on some marina let bikes. We were in search of a beachfront bar, a couple of cold beers, some island snacks, and a great view. Didn’t happen quite that way, though. Looking online before we got up on the bikes, we eyed a place 2 kilometers away, a short ride on a bike. The website showed us a big porch on a beach; it looked promising. When we arrived, sure, there was a big porch, and a whole lot of sand, no beach, it was on the side of what in the Bahamas would be considered a main road.

Back to the internet we went, another place also looked great, 3 kilometers in the other direction. Off we went, pedaling right on past the marina on our quest. This place was on a bluff overlooking the west side of the island; the view was spectacular. However, of course, there is a “however”; they didn’t serve alcohol. After 5 kilometers of biking, we were parched. Strike 2.

Turquoise bikes overlooking turquoise water.

Yup, we continued our quest, another search, another half kilometer back towards the marina. We found a bar, no beach, no view, just a few locals, most of whom probably have permanent stools at the bar. Tom and I ordered beers, and a gin and tonic for Mary. We headed outside to enjoy our hard-earned beverages on the side of the road just as it started to rain. We ended up standing under an overhang along the side of the building until the rain slowed enough for us to make the short bike ride back to the marina.

We hung around the marina for the rest of the night. We needed to figure out the rest of our plan. I needed to be in Nassau by late Saturday for an early Sunday morning flight back home. We still had about 75 miles to sail and a forecast of high winds and waves to deal with.

After much deliberation, it was decided that we would go for it the following morning, Friday. The first 10 miles of our sail would be into 25 knot winds with predicted seas of 6 to 8 feet close together. After those first 10 miles, we would make a turn to starboard and have to take those seas on our broadside for just about a mile; this would be the most uncomfortable portion of our sail. We would then be rewarded with a downwind, comfortable run to our planned anchorage tucked just south of Hoffman Cay, between Fowl and Saddle Back Cays, where we would be protected from the wind and waves for the night before making our final 35-mile sail to Nasua on Saturday.

Glory’s bow splashing down into bouncy head-on seas.

Our plan worked flawlessly, with a bit of bouncing and slamming into a couple of large waves, water shooting over our bow, we plowed forward. Followed by a few minutes of sloshing side to side, and then a smooth ride with the seas pushing us to our anchorage. Glory was in her element.

We were the only ones in the anchorage, not a soul to be seen on land either, the islands were deserted.

Mary on the bow, enjoying the sunset.

The winds stayed heavy throughout the night. Glory’s oversized ground tackle (anchor and chain) kept us in position, enabling us to get a restful night’s sleep.

In the morning, we pulled anchor and headed out of our well-protected anchorage towards Nassau. Once again, the sailing was magnificent, the winds were at our starboard aft quarter running in the high teens, low twenties. Seas were moderate, 6-ish feet. It was so pleasant that I decided I would try trolling for fish. After an unsuccessful try with a small metal lure that kept surfacing on me, I tried a larger wooden bullet-shaped lure weighted down to keep it from surfacing. It worked; within a few minutes, the reel was screeching, and we had a fish on the line.

Co-captain Mary.

With some effort, I was able to reel the fish in and get it on board. To our delight, we caught a small, about 10-pound, yellowfin tuna. I dispatched the fish quickly, settling into bucket in the cockpit. I needed to wait until the seas calmed down enough for me to fillet it.

Me and my tuna.

By this time, it was mid-afternoon, and we were closing on Nassau. The seas had picked up a bit; some of them were pushing the 10-foot mark. With the wind and seas pushing us, it was still quite comfortable.

I was not able to fillet the tuna until we were inside the breakwater in Nassau Harbour. I did so on the foredeck, where there is a saltwater wash-down hose that I could use for easy clean up. When I was about halfway done cleaning the fish Mary pointed out that there was a harbor police boat passing close by. Since we didn’t have a fishing license, I stopped what I was doing and tried to make it look like I was just cleaning the bow. They quickly passed us by without a second glance, and I finished my task of filleting the tuna.

Tom had arranged a dock for us for the night. I had an early flight, and being on the dock would make it a lot easier for my morning departure. As we closed in on the marina, Tom communicated with the dockmaster, giving him all of the pertinent information, length, width, and most importantly, draft (how deep Glory is in the water), so that the dockmaster could direct us to the appropriate slip. Unfortunately, the dockmaster directed us to a slip that was too shallow to allow for Glory’s 6-plus-foot draft. 30 feet away from the dock, we gently struck bottom. Not doing any damage, just making it near impossible for us to maneuver Glory back into deeper water. At this point, we were well inside the confines of the marina with little room for us to move around, especially because whenever we were able to turn a bit we would once again hit bottom. Ultimately, with the help of another mariner using their dinghy to help push us into deeper water, we were able to get into deeper water and find our way to a more appropriate slip.

Glory safely on a slip in Nassau.

After settling in, getting Glory and ourselves cleaned up and organized, we went up to the marina, where I was able to schedule a taxi to get me to the airport at the ungodly hour of 5am. We then proceed to the bar for a few sundowners; beers on a terrace overlooking the marina.

As always, drinking local beer.

The tuna, our dinner, was delicious, seared rare, served with some rice and veggies. There were even some leftovers for Tom and Mary to enjoy.

Clean plate club. I forgot to take photos of the tuna before we ate it.

I made it to the taxi and my flight on time ending my time in the Bahamas.

Bahamian Aspirations

In January, my wife Colleen and I, joined our friends Tom and Mary Mitri in West Palm Beach Florida. Our plan was to sail their boat Glory, a Mason 44, east from West Palm across the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas.

The plan was to sail with the Salty Dawgs, a group comprised of like minded sailors doing ocean passages while taking advantage of safety in numbers as well as some well documented comradery.

Our plans fell through, we were waiting for a good weather window, the planned departure time was looking a bit tight, early morning cast off, a fairly calm 30 hour sail followed by some high winds and rough seas soon after our hopeful arrival time. Tom and Mary decided that we would wait for the next, hopefully better, weather option that looked promising for us to cross the gulf stream to the Berries, a group of cays in the Bahamas, in 2 days time.

Super yachts docked in West Palm.

While waiting out the weather it was decided to take Glory for a cruise in the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW). Glory had been having a battery charging issue. The “house” batteries where not charging. So our trek along the ICW was 2-fold, sightseeing and to see if battery charging through the engine’s alternator charging system was working properly.

The trip was only half a success, we saw some sights. We motored along the ICW from West Palm north to Riviera beach and out into the Atlantic through the Lake Worth inlet. After a quick jaunt in the open ocean we turned back through the inlet, heading south along the ICW to our original anchorage directly across the channel from the Palm Beach Sailing Club.

However, the batteries didn’t charge. This is a major problem, especially when the plan is to travel throughout the sparsely populated, expensive to do any kind of boat repair area like the Bahamas. On a trip like this, where the Mitri’s are planning on spending the next 2 plus months traveling throughout the islands of the Bahamas. The “house” batteries are the designated energy source for all of the “house” needs; pretty much everything except starting the engine, which has its own designated start battery. Lights, refrigeration, navigational equipment, coffee maker, phone chargers etc. all run off the house batteries.

Heading to the Bahamas with “house” batteries that are not charging could be a frustrating and costly mistake.

We spent the next couple of days trying to figure out what the issue was. We checked all of the battery and charging systems electrical connections, tightening up a few loose-ish connections, found a blown fuse; these minor adjustments were not the culprit.

With the help of another mechanically inclined member of the Salty Dawg group we replaced the alternator. Being in Florida, on the coast, it was easy to find a new alternator. Tom found one within a few miles and was able to catch an Uber and pick it up with no hassles. Glory’s engine is not easily accessible, it’s located under the cabin sole (floor), which for reasons such as weight distribution is great, however, for ease of doing any kind of maintenance is a royal pain. With a bit of effort that only included a few cuss words the exchange was made. Unfortunately the alternator was not the culprit, the batteries were still not charging. Looking at the bright side of things, now the Mitri’s had a spare alternator.

At this point, Colleen and I were aboard Glory for the better part of a week and our time was running out, we had to get back home; work and kids were waiting for us.

When we weren’t trying to fix the charging system we took advantage of our time hanging with the Mitri’s, we checked out the surrounding area, having lunch from a taco truck, checking out the very large famers’ market in downtown West Palm, libations overlooking the harbor and dinner at a nice Italian restaurant helped make the stressful not-sure-what-the-problem-with-the-boat issue more enjoyable. One of the best characteristics of a great sailor is their ability to to run with the punches, being outwardly pissed off doesn’t help.

Me, Mary, Colleen and Tom making the best of our time in West Palm Beach.

The batteries were still an issue when Colleen and I headed home. Tom had a few leads on getting a fix, a local mechanic was scheduled to come by, daily phone calls with a mechanic who, this past winter, in the Chesapeake, had done some extensive work on Glory, as well as Wayne, another sailor whose boat Gwayne, a 44′ Lagoon catamaran, was anchored a few boats away from Glory. Wayne and his wife Gwen have a YouTube channel chronicling their adventures from the Great Lakes to the Bahamas and beyond.

While back in Arlington, shoveling snow, I was getting updates from Tom. The progress was slow, it took a couple of more weeks and several attempts to figure out what the problem was. Ultimately with the help of Wayne the problem was figured out; a grounding wire that attached to the engine block was internally corroded. It looked fine, was secured tightly and in no way seemed to be the problem. However, once the grounding bolt was removed, cleaned and re-attached, all was good.

The Mitri’s spent hundreds off dollars on various parts and a mechanic, to in the end, find the fix at of no cost. So often that’s how the cookie crumbles.

Now it’s time to get to the Bahamas.

Glory at anchor in West Palm Beach.

Three weeks after Colleen and I arrived in West Palm for a sail to the Bahamas that didn’t happen, I headed back, sans Colleen, to make the trip. Hopefully…