Insufficient Senses

We're here. We've made it. We're in the Bahamas. This particular goal is achieved and now we're rejoicing, rapturous. This place, everything it means for us as a family and me as an individual, is heavenly.

The weather window for the crossing was good. As is becoming a family tradition, we picked a weather window that necessitated a healthy amount of diesel and produced minimal worry, stress, and seasickness. Anchor up in Lake Worth last Sunday at 0525, anchor down on the east side of Mangrove Cay that night at 1925.

With a cruising speed of 6 knots, we had to do some old-fashioned navigation work to compensate for the set of the Gulf Stream. We pointed our bow to a point 18 miles south of Memory Rock, the Bahamian landmark where we wanted to enter the Little Bahama Bank. The course to follow was 110 degrees magnetic. The autopilot had no trouble maintaining the course and it was interesting to see the 55-mile-long letter 'S' representing our track. As the autopilot steered its S, we tried to trim the sails to maximise our speed. Although the wind was fickle, we were able to increase our velocity made good by a good knot or knot-and-a-half.

Having an argument with the spinnaker pole. The pole won this time.

 While the Gulf Stream cradled us northward and the engine and sails eastward, we couldn't help but notice the changes in water temperature. In Lake Worth the water was at around 26 degrees Celsius. In the Stream we saw close to 31 degrees! The temperature of the water was a harbinger of hours of snorkeling and swimming and beach-going.

At around 1300 we entered the Little Bahama Bank. Immediately the air temperature dropped a degree or two. Then the water temperature started dropping as well; from 30 degrees in the Stream to 24 degrees in the bank. With some disappointment, we continued our path east. The color of the water, its perfect clarity, the shadow of the boat sliding over the sandy bottom no more than 4 meters under the surface; everything we saw made up for the relatively low water temperature.

Blue and white.

Our shadow is properly sewed to our keel.

As we entered the bank our senses were stimulated to perfection. We were all mesmerized by our blue surroundings. Although the wind abandoned us, we decided to imbue ourselves with the environment by shutting off the engine. We sailed at 1 or 2 knots for a few hours. There was little talk aboard as we put all our energy into staring and enjoying. I wish we had more senses that would allow us to feel more and remember better.

Clear and flat Little Bahama Bank.

The Sun brought us back to reality as it started going down. The forecast had light and variable winds for that night, but we still wanted to anchor close to land, not just to get some protection in case it picked up, but also to make sure we wouldn't be anchored along someone else's track. With the engine roaring again, we made it to Mangrove Cay by 1900. We had another 75 miles to cover the next day.

Momma duck and her ducklings in the Sea of Abaco.

Dawn found the bank in a flat calm. No wind. Smooth surface. And we motored east. As we started rounding the northeast corner of Little Abaco Island, the wind picked up from the south at around 10 knots. With that kind of wind and no waves, we had a glorious sail towards Green Turtle Cay, where we dropped anchor at 1630. Throughout the afternoon we continued to be mesmerized by the water and the bottom of the bank. I continued to wish for more senses.

A little R&R for the crew after 2 days at sea.

The next morning I put on my Sunday best and motored into New Plymouth, the settlement on Green Turtle Cay, to clear customs and immigration. My first landfall in the Bahamas. The process of clearing in is quite simple and didn't take longer than 30 minutes. After that I went back to Taia and we all went for a swim before weighing anchor and sailing to Man-O-War Cay.

New Plymouth at dawn.

Anchor chain in Green Turtle Cay.

There's a shoaling between Green Turtle and Man-O-War that requires deeper draft boats like ours to leave the Sea of Abaco into the Atlantic Ocean for 2 or 3 miles. This is done by transiting Whale Cay Cut, or the Whale for short. This cut can be challenging when there's a north easterly swell. After 2 days of very little wind, the swell was gentle and lulling. The wind died again after we crossed the Whale; on came the engine.

Difficult Whale crossing?

As we approached Man-O-War, I started hailing Hold Fast on the VHF. They know the area well and were going to guide us through the tight channel that enters the harbour. As is their custom, they went out of their way to help us. They came out on their dinghy to meet us when we were still a couple of miles away. Then they waited for us at the entrance and we followed them in. Myron and Dena are our guardian angels, always ready to help and share their knowledge and experience.

And here we are, comfortably moored right next to Hold Fast. The kids have started going to school. Natalia and I get to be on our own on the boat or around the cay for a few hours a day. We've fallen into a comfortable routine and we are loving every second of it. I still wish I had more senses to take all of this in.