Coco DiMama, Eleuthera – 15 Mar to 16 Mar

Coco DiMama is Italian for Mama’s Baby. It’s the chosen name for a small, laid back resort on the Banks side of Eleuthera. They have a pristine white sand beach. The setting sun disappears into the ocean view every night. The entire resort consist of only 4 buildings; three accommodations buildings with 4 suites each, and a restaurant/bar. The picturesque bay off the beach is perfect for swimming, wading, or even fly fishing. We anchored there in 8 feet of water and dinghied in for lunch.

We’d heard from a fellow cruiser that the restaurant was good. But it was better than good. The service was timely (an oddity in Bahamas) and the people were friendly. After having a nice chat with the manager, we were offered internet, the beach shower, and pretty much got the run of the resort. We stayed for two days. Dana lounged around on the beach one afternoon, and when her drink got low, she would summon the cabana boy [David] by saying in an over loud falsetto with a fake english accent, “Cabana boy! Oh cabana boy! Would you be a dear and get me another cosmo please. That’s a good boy. Thankyou!”

Just across the main road from Coco DiMama is the remains of a US Navy base. Touring the base was fascinating. Many of the old generators were still in place. The buildings, although overgrown by the local fauna, were mostly intact. Most everything of value had been stripped from the buildings, but some of the furniture was still there. We speculated on the purpose of each building. A huge asphalt pit. perhaps 75 yards in diameter had been dug on the south side of the base. A trench led from the pit to open ocean. We’ve since been told, by a Navy friend, that the base was used for sonar testing in the 80s. Destroyers used to nose into the pit to calibrate sonar and then go out into the Sound for submarine games.

Governor’s Bay, Eleuthera – 14 Mar

We sailed 24 miles north to Governor’s Bay in the morning. This may have been our most delightful sail ever. The wind was just aft of the beam, and we were sailing on the Banks side of eastern Eleuthera in an east wind. This meant we could broad reach northwest up the coast, 200 yards from land, with nary a ripple on the water. If all sailing was like this, everyone would do it.

It’s official. Sam’s hair is too long. We beached the dinghy on the white sand beach near the Governor’s Harbor settlement and spoke to a couple local kids. After introductions, one of the kids (probably around 7 years old) points at Sam, turns to Dana, and asks innocently, “Is he a boy or a girl?”

Sam will be getting a haircut just as soon as we set foot on US soil.

We had intentions of staying a little longer in the settlement and maybe seeing a movie. Surprise! They have a movie theatre. But were a little worried about the security of the dinghy. Some inquisitive youths were sniffing around the dinghy after we finished dinner. It was getting dark. And we were not positive that the dinghy would be there when we returned, after the movie.

In Bimini and Nassau, we occasionally worried about getting some stuff stolen. in Nassau, we thought we were gonna get jacked a few times. But we’ve never worried a bit in the out islands. The locals routinely leaves their houses unlocked. No one locks their boat or their outboards up. We’re told that petty theft on the out islands is virtually unheard of. Everyone in the small settlements knows each other. And, just like small towns in the US, secrets are pretty tough to keep.

But one or two of the residents of Governor’s Bay really spooked us. So, discretion being what it is, we dinghied back to the big boat and spent a pleasant night at anchor.

Rock Sound, Eleuthera – 13 Mar

We did another 40 miles to Rock Sound on the morning of the 13th; a brilliant broad reach through the lee of the southeastern tip of Eleuthera. The boat loves a reach. Steady 7 knots under full main and jib.

We ended the day with a 2 hour motor, directly upwind, through Davis Channel. Davis Channel is a narrow passage between two sandbars over the Eleuthera banks. It’s another VPR area (Visual Piloting Required.) Tensions were a little high. We were nervous about the channel, and Dana considered mutiny at one point. We’ll leave it to the reader to imagine the circumstances that might have caused the near mutiny.

The best thing about Rock Sound was the grocery store.

From a US perspective, the grocery stores here in the Bahamas have been strange, small, anemic looking affairs. Most are no larger than a single 30 foot square room. Some are much smaller. You get to choose your vegetables from (if they have vegetables) from a basket of wrinkled brown things that may once have been tomatoes. Or maybe onions. Fresh milk is virtually nonexistent, and carefully hoarded if the grocery store gets a shipment. You can always get flour, sugar, oatmeal, and some kind of pasta. Every other item is hit or miss. If the once a week mailboat has just arrived, the selection is better.

The Rock Sound grocery store had aisles. And shelves. And fresh milk. And the shelves were stocked with several different brands of food product. We purchased Cap’n Crunch cereal. It was heaven.

Next time we cruise, we’re going to Sam’s Club and spending about $3000 on food before we leave the US. Our grocery bill in the Bahamas has been insane. We knew it was going to be a little expensive, but we were not quite ready for $5 per half gallon of milk.

Little San Salvador – 12 Mar

We traveled 40 miles northwest to Little San Salvador. Little San is a convenient nightly stop over for a boat traveling from Cat Island to the Eleutheras (which we were.) We caught a Blue Runner on the way that fed us for two days. Dana made an excellent fish curry on the 2nd day using coconut milk and curry paste.

The interesting thing about Little San Salvador is that it is used as a day stop by Princess Cruiselines to treat their guests to a day of supervised fun on a pristine beach. The island is otherwise uninhabited. When a cruise liner arrives (usually near daybreak) 3500 tourists pile off the cruise ship and assault the beach. There are jet skis, parasailing, massage tables, horseback riding, food, and organized games for the guests.

We anchored just 50 yards off the beach, and within 200 yards of the cruise ship. We easily could have swum to the beach and disguised ourselves as passengers. This would have been worth a free meal, or maybe a jet ski rental. Worst possible case, we could have participated in the awful karaoke emanating from one of the silly looking thatched tiki huts that the passengers were using.

Seeing the cruise ship was a nice reminder of how most people visit the Bahamas. Although we haven’t formed many friendships with native Bahamians, we feel like we’ve experienced the real Bahamas; certainly more than any tourist on a cruise ship is likely to do.

The cruise ship (and all 3500 passengers) left around 6:00 pm, and we had the anchorage completely to ourselves.

Cat Island – 09 Mar to 11 Mar

We said tearful goodbyes to our friends in Georgetown and made 40 miles NNE to Hawk’s Nest Point on Long Island. Wind was ENE, so we alternately beat and reached, sometimes with the motor on to charge batteries.

We splurged and stayed at a resort marina (called Hawk’s Nest.) It had been a month since we last stayed at a marina. The harbor master asked to see our cruising permit. Which, luckily, we were able to find at the bottom of a big stack of papers, hidden in the deep recesses of the boat. This is the first time that anyone in the Bahamas has checked to see whether we entered the country legally.

We spent the next two days doing laundry and internet, and ate once at the resort restaurant. We left the marina on 11th, and traveled 10 miles along the southwest side of the island to New Bight. New Bight features the highest hill in the Bahamas at 206 feet. Father Jerome’s retirement home, The Hermitage, is built on top of the hill. Father Jerome is a famous priest who built churches on Bahamian islands in the early 1900s. His retirement home is sparse and desolate. The guy lived alone in 2 tiny rooms. Dana’s website has pictures.

Sam’s 12th Birthday – Feb 28

Every cruising kid in Georgetown between the ages of 9 and 17 came out to Sam’s birthday party. Ann Marie, from Rio Dulce, has the same birthday as Sam, so we organized a joint birthday party on the beach.

The kids played tug of war, balloon toss, wheelbarrow race, did some relays, and played frisbee golf. We had cake and presents and then ended the party with a big bonfire as night fell.

Best birthday ever. If you’re a 12 year old boy.

We played many of the same games, a few days later, with the Georgetown 4th and 5th graders on Kids Day. Kids Day marks the beginning of the Georgetown Cruiser’s Regatta.

A Conversation That Might Have Occurred Between Me and Mike While Attempting To Sneak Onto Charlie and Liz’s Catamaran In the Middle Of the Night Via Dinghy So We Could Dogpile Them

Me: Where are you going?
Mike: I’m going to pass 50 yards upwind of their boat, kill the motor, and drift down on them with the motor off.
Me: Why?
Mike: So they won’t hear us.
Me: Oh! ok. That seems pretty smart.
Mike: A little further.
Me: No. Too far. Kill it now.
Mike: A little further.
Me: Dammit man. Kill it. Did we bring oars?
Mike: Shhh. You’re a ninja.
Me: I’m gonna be a rowing ninja if you don’t kill that motor.
Mike: Fine. There. It’s off. Now Shhhh. Like a ninja.
Me: Shhhhhh.
Mike: Shhhhh.
Me:
Mike:
Me:
Mike: We overshot, huh?
Me: Yep.
Mike: Did we bring oars?
Me: Just paddle with your hands.
Mike:
Me:
Mike: It’s working.
Me: Shhhh.
Mike: We’re going to float between the hulls. Paddle harder.
Me: No. The other way. Arrrgh.
Mike: Shhhh.
Me: Shhhhhhhhhh!
Mike:
Me:
Mike:
Me: You think Charlie has guns?
Mike: He’s from Texas. It’s possible.
Me: Probable.
Mike: Maybe this is not such a good idea.
Me: Doesn’t matter now. We’re committed. There’s the transom. Tie our dinghy off and prepare to board.
Charlie: What are you two idiots doing?
Mike: Shhhh. You can’t see us. We’re ninjas.
Me: Yea. What he said.
Charlie: You two are the worst ninjas I’ve ever seen.
Mike: Is Liz awake?
Charlie: Yes. You two loud ninjas woke her up.
Me: Is she still in bed?
Charlie: Well… yes.
Mike:
Me:
Charlie:
Me and Mike Simultaneously: DOGPILE!

Mike’s Visit – 21 Feb to 24 Feb

For the record, we would like to state that we fail to recall some details during the three days of our lives, beginning on the 21st of February. There was rum involved. Spear fishing. More rum. Poker. Regular fishing. Trivia contest. Rum. Mike brought our much needed spare parts to the Bahamas. We got some good pictures. None of which should be shown publicly.

At War With the Prop Shaft – 19 Feb

While reversing the boat to set the anchor near Kids Cove in Georgetown, we noticed a concerning noise coming from the motor. Kind of a clunk-clunk-grrrrunk sound. So we did what we normally do; we tried to ignore it and went about our business. After a busy day of spear fishing and collecting water and groceries, we returned to the boat to hear the same sound. Cunk-clunk-grrrrunk, Cunk-clunk-grrrrunk. This time in reverse and forward gear. A close inspection of the internals of the motor revealed that, although the transmission coupling was turning over, the prop shaft was not turning at all.

The prop shaft backed off and could have fallen out of the boat.

The only thing that kept the prop shaft from falling all the way out of the boat was that the egg zinc on the shaft hung up on the shaft strut underwater. If the shaft had fallen completely out, we would have had a 1.5 inch hole in the bottom of our boat. According to Nigel Calder, a 1 inch hole 4 feet underwater will allow in 88 gallons of water per minute. There is no way our bilge pumps could keep up with that. We may not have sunk. But it would have been a close race. There are two set screws in the shaft that are supposed to hold the transmission coupling to the shaft. Both set screws were loose. One screw had a hole for safety wire, but no safety wire was attached.

After a close inspection of the area, we realized that the problem was clearly beyond our ability to fix. So we did what any industrious cruiser would do at a time like this; we called our friends for help. Brian from Gotta Life and Dick from Rio Dulce came over and did thier best to simply hammer the shaft back in. No bueno. Then Brian dove into the lazarette, wormed his way around the exhaust hose and got both hands on the transmission coupling. He backed the coupling off and slid it properly onto the shaft. He then reattached the aforementioned set screws and used the transmission coupling bolts to pull the shaft forwards into the proper position.

Disaster averted.

In a little over two hours, we went from thinking our cruise might be over to cocktails in the cockpit. We are often humbled by the technical ability of our fellow cruisers. We have not yet found our legs in this area, but we are learning fast.

At War With the Diesel – 18 Feb

We worked on the diesel all day long. switching fuel filters didn’t work this time. The diesel coughed, sputtered, and died. Changing the fuel assembly did not work. Changing the secondary filter did not work. Clearing the vent on the diesel tank did not work. Replacing some fuel hose and some fittings did not work.

We just started using biocide a few days ago in Clarencetown, so the working theory was that the biocide killed all the crap growing in our tank, and when the crap died, it clogged the lines or perhaps the filters.

Dave from Liberty came over and helped for the second half of the day. Things were not going well. At some point we were not sure if we were going to be able to get the motor started again. After some head scratching and channeling of our inner diesel mechanic (Dave even prayed over the motor at one point) we decided to try clearing the pickup line from the fuel tank to the primary filter one more time. Don’t ask how we did this. It’s icky. After clearing the pickup line, the manual pump on the top of the Racor behaved differently. The manual pump filled the bowl without generating any back pressure. We tightened everything up, lit the fuse, and voila! The diesel lives again. Apparently, the pickup line had a chunk of something growing in it, and the second clearing of the line did the trick.

We were down to our last filter, but our friend Mike was due from the States, with 5 extras in his baggage. Brian from Gotta Life let us borrow his fuel polisher the next day. Polishing yielded lots more dead grime and algae looking stuff pulled from the tank. With the fuel polished and the tank biocided, we’re hoping to avoid the clogged filter issue for the near future.