A Sail of Two Idiots (21 page)
Read A Sail of Two Idiots Online
Authors: Renee Petrillo
Vroom, vroom! It was awesome to have the road beneath us. Wahooooooo! The towns were small, with nothing to “see,” but the weather was great and it was so much fun to be doing something different that we didn't care. It was a fun way to spend the day.
We had to order a new alternator voltage regulator from the United States (its demise explained why the engine starter battery had been overheating). So we just took it easy. We walked the beach a lot and did the usual chores while we waited for the part to arrive. We also had to get our propane tank filled. This was the first time we had run out since we left the States almost six months before. Not bad!
A nice break to the pleasant monotony was the start of the Bahamas Family Regatta. Bahamians from all over brought their homemade boats and participated in the races during the day. In the evenings, tents were set up while huge speakers blared soca music, an upbeat, pulsating blend of Caribbean calypso and American soul.
Had I not been afraid of getting beaten up, I would have taken pictures of what some of the young women were wearing. Or
not
wearing, as it were. Wow, it was not “family” oriented at night. We had been warned to dress conservatively when on island so as not to upset the local sensibilities, but what did we have there? Wow. And the hairdos! Someone was bringing back the beehiveâmulticolored to boot! People-watching was a hoot.
While we were wandering the streets mesmerized by the crowd, we again ran into some people we knew from Green Turtle. They had motored down in a large power yacht and had no intention of going farther south. We'd probably never see them again, so it was nice to get in a final hug.
LESSON 60: DÃJÃ VU
You will run into boaters again and again. And again. I highly recommend you don't flip someone off as you pick up anchor because you're likely to see them again someday. When you least expect it, they'll be the boat anchored 3 feet from your bow blaring hard rock at 2 a.m., smiling warmly as you glare at them. And since you don't know who knows who, keep negative boater observations to yourself until you know what's what and who's who.
After the regatta, we decided we needed to get out of George Town/Stocking Island for a while. We had since met Hans and Kristen (and their cat Kit Kat) on their little 27-foot monohull,
Whisper
, and we decided to sail east across Exuma Sound and check out Long Island together.
About two hours into the sail, we saw bright white sandbars stretching across the water like a desert oasis.
Whisper
called us on the VHF and said they were heading over there to check them out. We were ahead of them at the time, and although we had seen the white sandbars, we'd sailed right by them. We debated for a minute and then turned the boat around.
What a neat place! The water was the warmest yet and the sand was velvety. Here we were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by and swimming in blue/green water with nothing else for miles around. It turned out to be one of the highlights of our entire three-year journey. And we had almost sailed right by it.
LESSON 61: STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES (OR SAND)
My bad habits from home were taking over on the sea as well. When I was driving my car long distances, I refused to take breaks. I was going to X, and to X we were going. I did not sightsee along the way, did not stop to go to the bathroom, did not pass Go. Anyone with me learned this and stopped drinking liquids hours before. We were doing the same thing boating. I had plotted one route into the chartplotter and would not deviate. That stop at the sandbar reminded me that some of the best things that happen to us are unexpected. The trick is to allow for them and enjoy them when they present themselves.
We had to detour to a different anchorage than planned when a line of storm cells developed. First we were deluged with rain (which we caught for our tanks), and then the lightning and winds started, and then it all died. We thought it was over but were awakened during the night when we felt as though we'd been tossed into a washing machine. The harbor in Bains Bay had waves coming in from every direction. We were flopping around so much that we actually had to tie down some stuff. I'll bet it was a real blast to be on
Whisper
!
With morning came a switch to our originally planned anchorage in Thompson Bay, a little farther southeast down the island, and then it was time to put our feet on solid ground. Every car that passed us honked. Every person we encountered waved. It was one of the friendliest islands we'd been on in the Bahamas. The ocean-side beach was also one of the most pollutedâwith plastic trash. All we could think about was the Native American Indian with the tear going down his face. Recycle pleaseâLESSON 58.
We spent a week on Long Island and rented a car for a day so we could check out the blue holes (deep underwater caves) around the island. Some were deep enough to dive into from cliffs! We also snorkeled some blue holes around the anchorage.
We found a great roadside bar, Max's Conch Bar & Grill in the town of Dead-man's Cay, that had such good conch salad that Hans and Kristen hitchhiked back to it a couple times. Although we didn't eat any ourselves (save the conch!), it was made right in front of us and couldn't have been any fresher. A little shopping trip turned up a much-desired Monopoly game for Kristen and a piece of Astroturf for Shaka. Our cat didn't know it yet, but he was about to be weaned from stinky, expensive kitty litter to some cheap plastic green grass. (For some frank kitty litter conversation, head to the Tips section at the end of the book.)
Long Island had been the perfect place to go, especially after all that time in jaded George Town. The island was not a tourist mecca, just a friendly working town. Too bad Long Island isn't a practical place to stay long-term, with no wi-fi and things so far apart that one needs a car. So back to George Town we went.
With gentle winds behind us, we were able to put out our colorful spinnaker for the first time and have a peaceful sail back. How rare!
By now the George Town anchorage was down to about 50 boats; there had been more than a hundred when we first got there. Thunderstorms became the norm. It rained so much that the trails to our beloved Stocking Island beaches were underwater. We needed those walks for our sanity!
And the mosquitoes! I'm sorry, but we
must
talk about the mosquitoes for a moment. It was like a Stephen King novel. Nothing stopped these things. Winds, fire, mosquito coils, clothânothing. Our boat had window screens, but we could hear the buggers buzzing loudly on the other side, just waiting. One time Michael took his life into his hands, ran outside, grabbed Shaka's litter box, and ran back inside. We opened/closed the door quickly, but not before dozens of mosquitoes got in. It was scary!
We could take a hint. We needed to decide what we were going to do for hurricane season. One smart thing we had done before we left the States (we did one smart thing!) was making sure that our boat insurance would cover hurricane
damage anywhere in the Caribbean (a rare policy find, but worth it). The policy was comforting, but just because we could be hit and covered didn't mean we actually wanted to be hit by a hurricane.
We had four choices:
We could race back north to the States and spend the season on the Chesapeake, where my mom lived.
Pros
âFamily, boat parts, familiarity.
Cons
âIt seemed like a step backward and we didn't want to have to come all the way back down here again. And knew we wouldn't.
We could stay put in the Bahamas and cross our fingers (although we'd go back to the central Exumas and stay there).
Pros
âWe were already there.
Cons
âWe would be sitting ducks; it was expensive; the weather stank; we'd need blood transfusions due to the killer mosquitoes.
We could head to the Dominican Republic. Although still technically in the hurricane zone, one particular Dominican anchorage, Luperon, seemed to be in a protected area. The mountains surrounding the anchorage deflected high winds, and the secondary cove that served as the main anchorage shielded everyone from heavy seas.
Pros
âIt wasn't too far away; we would know other boaters anchored there; it was supposed to be a big, beautiful country.
Cons
âIt was said to be a filthy anchorage, and we would have to sit in it for months.
We could race all the way down to Grenada or Trinidad and get out of the hurricane zone altogether.
Pros
âNo hurricanes.
Cons
âWe'd miss all the islands! Sure we could come back up, but then we'd have to race back down again.
Going to the Dominican Republic seemed like the most logical decision, but Luperon wasn't called Pooperon for nothing. The harbor had so many boats with so little current flow to remove the waste that it was a sewer. Runoff from the gutters on land, which consisted of raw sewage (both human and animal), also went into the harbor. Yuk.
It was only May; we had a whole 30 days until the beginning of hurricane season. We'd just think about it. In our defense, we weren't completely procrastinating. We were still waiting for the alternator's voltage regulator part. We also had a refrigeration guy come out who then proceeded to put the wrong Freon in our unit, effectively ruining it. Sigh. That mistake turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though, when we realized how much energy we'd save using only our
deep top-loading freezer. We'd just keep the things we didn't want frozen away from the fan. Screw the refrigerator.
Michael tried to get parts to fix the galley sink valve but couldn't hitch a ride to save his life. George Town was not the friendliest place. Some people love it there, but we'd never go back.
With the constant rains, we were waterlogged. Had we not already owned a boat, we would have built one. Our three windows were still leaking. The weather didn't stay dry long enough for us to do anything about them. Even the canvas sail cover that holds the mainsail on the boom was so full of water that it was hard to hoist the sail to empty it and keep it from getting moldy.
