29 March 2014

Bye Abacos

We left Hope Town on Saturday March 15. The plan was to do a quick stop at Marsh Harbour to do some provisioning and then head south to the Exumas.

The quick stop at Marsh Harbour ended up taking a lot longer than planned due to bad weather. With strong winds coming from the south, heading to the Exumas was out of the question. We didn't want to stay in Marsh Harbour either. The bay, although big, is usually packed with boats. When strong winds are predicted we usually prefer, when possible, to drop anchor in a protected bay where Taia is not going to have other boats at close proximity. The reason for this is simple: if we drag anchor, we don't want to hit other boats. If other boats drag anchor, we don't want to get hit.

In the span of a week we stayed at Archers Cay, Red Bay, Tavern Cay, Pelican Cay, Tilloo Cay and Lynyard Cay.

We finally got a nice weather window to cross the 57 nm on the Atlantic side to Royal Island, on the east side of Eleuthera, on Sunday March 24. On Monday we were treated to a beautiful and hot day. We checked out the small island, including the ruins of a 1950's resort that never came to be. We also went to the beach.

Walking around Royal Island.

Ruins of a 1950 resort.


We saw lots of this little guy here.

The plan was to stay in Royal Island for a few days, until the strong winds abated. Once again, the plan had to be changed due to the weather.
After a few days of strong winds and nothing else to do on the deserted island, we decided to find a new anchorage. We ended up going to Current Settlement and walked around the beautiful town. We went to the store to do some provisioning again and visited the local library. We met Sue, the lovely lady that runs the library and ended up staying there for a few hours where the kids read and even got a few books as a gift.

Playing in yet another playground, Current Settlement.

In front of the local library.



We are watching the weather closely. It looks like we might be able to cross the final 50 nm to the Exumas on Sunday or Monday. We'll keep our fingers crossed.

12 March 2014

Life and Death of a Conch

A conch is a gastropod. Gastropods have a soft body and grow a protective shell around the body. The Sea of Abaco is the perfect environment for these gastropods to thrive. Additionally, conch is a great source of healthy protein. And, as if that weren't enough, the shells can be beautiful and make for great decoration. Garden paths lined with shells are quite common here in the Abacos. Finally, the shells can be converted into conch horns, the precursor to the dreaded vuvuzela (or, like we call them in Argentina since long before they became popular during the 2010 World Cup, corneta).

The previous paragraph summarizes the few hard facts we've learned about conch since arriving in The Bahamas. But the more interesting aspect about our conch experience is how the friends we've made introduced us to conch and the culture around it. One by one, our friends furnished us with information about this gastropod. It's been an experience of discovery and friendship. The kind of experience I hoped to have when I dreamed about cruising.

Upon arriving in Man-O-War, Myron and Dena told us they'd been conching (the act of picking up live conch from the sea bed) and gave the kids a couple of discarded shells. They taught us how to clean the shells and told us about the different ways conch can be prepared for eating. A few days later they gave us some of Dena's delicious conch salsa; that's Dena's own recipe. I made conch salsa omelette... yum.
Conch salsa omelette
When we took part on our first dinghy drift, we learned about the Bahamian tradition of blowing a conch horn at sunset. A sort of Sun salutation. Anchorages around the Sea of Abaco sound like a tame football stadium when the Sun gives its last beams of the day.

One night we were visiting Art and Vicki on Don Quixote, and Art showed me what a conch horn looks like and told me how it can be made. Then we met Kim and Les on Willamia and wondered at Les's ability at making a conch howl evenly for several seconds at a time. I had the information on how to make a conch horn, had seen a couple of working samples, and that was enough to get my restless hands to work.
Tools of the conch horn maker
A proper conch horn is made with a discarded conch shell, sealing the hole that's chipped away when extracting the conch from the shell, and cutting off the spire of the shell to make a blow hole. Sounds simple. Out came the hacksaw and the epoxy. My first attempt at making one wasn't quite successful. Barry from Beach Cruiser came around for a visit and checked out my handy work. He gave me some advice on how to improve it and I got to work on the second shell. The second one was successful. I may have had to get technological the second time around, and may have used a Dremel to make sure the blow hole was the right size and shape.
Don't chip away any more than necessary!
Another thing Barry did is describe what a good place to find adult conch looks like. He mentioned 5 to 6 meters of water, on or around a grassy patch, and close to or in a cut. A cut is a place where the Sea of Abaco and the Atlantic Ocean meet. When we were relaxing on Tahiti Beach a couple of days ago I realized that I could dinghy out to Tilloo Cut in a few minutes. I didn't have my snorkeling gear, just a pair of goggles. Away I went to the cut.

It took me a few minutes to spot and pick up a couple of adult conch. The adults are identified by the size of the shell and the thickness of the lip. The bigger the shell and thicker the lip, the older they are. And here's where Melissa and K from Morning Star come in. Melissa was paddling around the cut that morning, so I went over and proudly showed her my catch. I needed someone to tell me how to clean and cook the conch. She suggested we get together that night and they would show us how to process the day's catch. She also said I should go back for more to make sure we had enough for both families.

While K taught me how to clean the conch, Melissa and Natalia got everything ready to make cracked conch. The cleaning is somewhat challenging for a city boy like me. My first concern was the fact that I would be ending a few lives. I made sure I said sorry to the conch I killed before plunging the knife. Regardless of my meaningless apology, the conch died silently and, hopefully, quickly. I choose to think the conch knew how Gaia works; we're all part of the same organism and dying to feed each other is just the way Gaia stays alive. Right?
K (right) taught Mike (centre) and me how to clean conch while Natalia supervised (photo by Melissa Guinness)
Then came the dirty steps. After removing the conch from the shell, tissue needs to be cut off, skin needs to be peeled off. This also involved eating a transparent noodle-looking thing that we pulled out of the body. K said real Bahamians eat the noodle while they clean the conch. Lore maintains the noodle is an aphrodisiac. I could not let it go to waste. It tastes like salty goo. The wine we had that night may have been more of an aphrodisiac than the noodle.
Skinning conch with my teeth (photo by Melissa Guinness)
Yet again the culture around the conch made life interesting and fun. We ate good food, but more importantly, we shared this good food with good friends.
From left to right: Ernesto, Mike, a plate full of cracked conch, K, Melissa, Natalia (photo by the Guinnesses)
There's something primevally satisfying about using my own hands to gather food from the wild and feed my family. That's also pretty cool.

05 March 2014

Of Friends and Towns Full of Hope

As we left Man-O-War in our wake, we couldn't help but feel that a bit of our hearts was staying behind. Everyone associated with the school was great, both kids and grown-ups. We felt welcome and are fortunate to have met all of them. The cruising and local communities have a gem of humanity there in Barb and Barry, as well as Nancy and Lawrie. With their smiles and warmth, they are the kind of people I wish to be when I grow up.

But cruisers cruise, and cruise away we did. All 5 miles of them! We needed to do some provisioning and other household chores like laundry. Marsh Harbour is the best place for that in Abaco. Last Monday we bounced around a few different stores and businesses, trying to get everything done as quick as possible. Our friends from Morning Star had a mooring lined up for us in Hope Town and we couldn't wait to reconnect with them. We met them in North Carolina and hadn't seen them since we were in Charleston, in early November of last year.

There's no challenge in getting from Marsh Harbour to Hope Town. The distance is around 7 or 8 nautical miles. But our charts indicated that the channel to get into the harbour in Hope Town is quite shallow, so we chose to spend a night anchored off Matt Lowe's Cay, half way between the two towns, and enter the harbour at high tide the next morning. It was a calm night, full of stars and beautiful in every aspect except for the slight swell that kept us rolling most of the night. We're all salty dogs aboard Taia, so the rolling didn't impede anybody's rest. Except for me. I guess I'm just a salty pup who doesn't sleep well on a rolly boat.

We motored into Hope Town and Melissa from Morning Star told us which mooring to pick up. With her kids in school and her husband, K., at work, Melissa was kind enough to show us around town and even took us snorkelling in Johnny's Cay. On the way to Johnny's Cay we saw a nurse shark about 6 feet in length. It's the first shark we've seen in the wild.
Atlantic side beaches in Hope Town
Hope Town is bigger than Man-O-War but smaller than Marsh Harbour. The whole town looks manicured and is as picturesque as they come. The beaches along the ocean side are breath-taking. The harbour is packed with boats, as the busy season is now getting started. We'll stay here for a few days.
Taia on her mooring in Hope Town
Homeschooling resumed today. The routine is already starting to feel familiar: while Natalia and the kids do school, I roam the boat looking for trouble and gear to break while pretending to fix it. There's also beach-going and snorkelling.
Invasion of the lifejacketed frogmen
Tonight we're going to see how the Hope Town lighthouse is lit. Flipping a switch may not sound like a very interesting event to witness, but that's not how it's done in this particular lighthouse. The process is more involved, as this is one of the last lighthouses in the world that still use kerosene as fuel. It should be an interesting lesson.