Taia's Abaco Homecoming (despite the skipper's negligence)

We left George Town showing off our windlass' ability to weigh anchor without running the engine. It wasn't just the windlass we were showing off, there was also a healthy amount of nautical smugness. Normally, we would use the engine to weigh anchor, get under way, and only then hoist our sails. But we wanted to show off in front of our friends in George Town. And we did. And then we paid for it.

Mr. Mischief looking for trouble in Elizabeth Harbour

The sail north from George Town was nothing less than spectacular. The ENE wind at around 10 knots was perfect, both in angle and velocity, to put us on a smooth track under main and spinnaker. After a few hours of some rolling in Exuma Sound, we entered the bank through Galliot Cut. Again we showed off by sailing through the cut without starting the engine.

Flying our chute in the Great Bahama Bank

After we entered through the cut the sailing got even better. With such light wind and from that direction the Great Bahama Bank was flat. But we kept moving at 6 to 7 knots! Out came the hammock, which I rigged to the spinnaker tack and the mast. The boat was flying, without roll, without pitch, and a few degrees of heel.

That day we had planned to sail to Black Point, but the sailing was so good we decided to continue on to Big Majors Spot. Sixty one and a half nautical miles in almost 12 hours. A great day for sailing if there ever was one.

Our plan was to continue to move while the weather was benign. The next day, after a quick provision run in Staniel Cay, we sailed to Shroud Cay, the northern most cay in the Exuma Land and Sea Park. Again we showed off by weighing anchor under main and without starting the diesel machine from hell. This time, while the windlass whirred away, it was noticeably slower, as if it wasn't getting enough juice. And a device started beeping down below. “An electrical glitch,” I thought lazily. See, real sailors heed this kind of warning. I was too busy showing the whole anchorage how we could weigh anchor and sail away without burning diesel. So I dismissed the beeping and the sluggish behaviour the windlass was showing.

The Pool, Shroud Cay

Shroud Cay is spectacular. There is a creek that runs through the cay, from Exuma Sound to the Bank. The creek has a bed of white sand and is surrounded by mangroves. Also, the current on the creek switches with the tide. As you exit the creek into Exuma Sound, there's a beautiful beach. While at that beach we met Unknown Island, a Canadian family that is sailing back to Canada from Grenada after a season in the Caribbean. Just to remind us of how incredibly giving and caring people in general are, Unknown Island gave us their chart books for the Caribbean, including CD's with digital charts. Thanks again, guys!

Young marine biologist studying samples in Shroud Cay

From Shroud Cay we did a short hop to Ship Channel Cay, the last Exuma anchorage we would see this year. After a night anchored in Ship Channel, we rose early to sail to Royal Island and stage our crossing to the Abacos. Yet again, the windlass was slower than usual and something started beeping in the cabin as the anchor was coming up. No longer able to procrastinate, I decided to investigate further. The batteries seemed to be unusually drained. On came the diesel machine from hell, which had trouble starting due to the low voltage on the batteries. Thus we made sure that the batteries got a good charge from the alternator. The sail to Royal was still excellent, although we kept the engine running for 2 hours during the 8-hour sail.

Creek going through Shroud Cay

It wasn't until we arrived back in the Abacos that I opened the battery locker and checked their fluid level. All the plates had the top centimetre exposed. Shame on me! Healthy batteries require their plates to be immersed in an electrolyte (distilled water, which becomes some kind of acid after the chemistry of the battery has produced electricity... or something like that). The one redeeming factor is that these batteries are a few years old, and we knew we'd have to replace them sooner rather than later. By not keeping their fluid level topped up, I've accelerated their deterioration. Live and learn. Negligence does not go unnoticed on a cruising boat. Every system should be maintained periodically, and just wishing them well is conspicuously not enough.

What about all that cocky show-off maneuverings we did when weighing anchor under sail? Well, I've been slapped down by the bad karma I've sowed. No more of that until we get new batteries. Now the diesel machine from hell is running every time we use the windlass, which requires a healthy source of current and voltage.

As you may have surmised, we're back in the Abacos. Coming back here has been a sort of homecoming. Back in February, this is where we started the second chapter of our cruising (the first being the ICW and everything we did in the US last year, which seems like a lifetime away). Here in Abaco we made some great friendships in Man-O-War and Hope Town. So we're back, visiting friends, enjoying their company, and already planning our next visit to the Sea of Abaco, which by now feels like home.

The kids have been going to school in Man-O-War and the grown-ups have had a chance to relax and decompress. Man-O-War Primary School has become an important part of our kids' lives. Their experience here has been wonderful and enriching.