May 2017

Finally we're ready to say goodbye to Peapod and our barefoot lifestyle.

On May 1^st, off she goes to the storage yard to be tied down until we go back for our next Peapod adventure.

Based on our experiences of recent years, it seems clear that climate change is affecting the weather in the Bahamas. In the old days (early 2000’s) it was easier to find weather “windows”. These are 3-day stretches of good weather for challenging crossings or travelling on the “outside” of the Exumas. Now they are few and far between, with more unpredicted changes in the marine forecasts. We need to be more skeptical of those that predict only one good day.

Next year, all being well, we plan a few more enhancements to make us more independent of marinas that chew up our woodwork. We would also like to travel a little further and perhaps have a bit more stability in rough waters. Our wish list for 2018....

First, we will invest in wind power. Our solar panels can only take us so far and if there is one thing we have learned, it will almost always be windy. 

Then we will install a reverse osmosis (RO) water maker. This will give us more freedom and less stress when it comes to availability of fresh water, which is rare and expensive in the Exumas and the more remote islands. 

Finally, we will install a new “bladder” for extra fuel, adding to the weight of the hull for stability and extending our cruising range. New destinations may include Eleuthera, Long Island, Turks and Caicos and maybe even Cuba!

In the meantime, it’s great to be home. We're looking forward to a fun summer with friends and family, especially the grandbabies. We are so fortunate to have Face Time with them all winter but nothing beats the in-person hugs.

The captain is happy to be home in the hot tub and Lucy is glad to be back with her pack (although she like squirrels better).

April 2017

We parted ways with Ocean Dreamer. They headed off to Eleuthera and we went back to Big Major’s, where we had a visit from a curious nurse shark. 

We took a quick overnight trip to Black Point for laundry and a walk on the “outside” beach. Way too rough to swim! 

Then back to Pirate Beach to wait for my brother, Bob and his wife Irene, to fly into Staniel Cay via Nassau from Toronto.

Three days before their arrival, the dinghy engine conked out. I had been rowing for exercise and had ventured quite far from Peapod. As I turned to row back I realized that I was working against both the wind and the current and wasn’t making much headway. No problem! Just start the engine. Well it started, then immediately shut down.

I was kicking myself for not taking the portable VHF radio with me for safety. Meanwhile, I was rowing as hard as I could toward Peapod. Every few minutes, I tried to restart the engine, wiggling this knob and that, to no avail. Finally, I was gratified to see a kind sailor approaching me to offer a tow. Whew! That was quite a relief after having a daytime nightmare about drifting out to sea.

David jumped in, took the engine apart and diagnosed the issue. No problem. He had brought a spare fuel pump along as insurance. Oops! Part number was right but it looked all wrong. At that moment we realized that we were in a real pinch, especially with company coming.

There would be no sure-fire way of getting the right parts for this ancient outboard in the Bahamian out-islands. We would have to bite the bullet and buy a new engine. I hopped onto the Internet to get numbers for Watermaker Air, the airline that brings people, parts and goods to the small islands, and for dealers of engines based in Fort Lauderdale near the airport.

That very afternoon we selected a motor and booked its travel for the following day. A kind cruising neighbour offered to take David to the airport to pick it up. They returned with an enormous box and went to the beach to unpack and install it. The styrofoam packing materials alone filled 6 garbage bags requiring a special dinghy trip to Staniel and nearly $50 in disposal fees!

We had just enough time to get a few provisions and pick up our guests. At times like this we thank our lucky stars that this mad scramble took place before, and not after they arrived.

We spent our first evening at Pirate Beach, which normally quite a party scene. We had it all to ourselves! We inflated and enjoyed the wonderful gifts Bob and Irene had brought for us. This is very comfortable beach seating (and floating) and it folds into a tiny pouch for storage. 

We hung our Peapod “found” object along with those who had come before us.

By this time we were in need of fresh water. We had found it very difficult last winter to top up at the Staniel Cay Marina. The winds and currents are extremely strong and it is a beehive of small and large boat activity. We decided we might be able to dock in a more forgiving place and preserve our dignity. So off we go back to Little Farmer’s with a goal of taking our new guests’ tour back to Little Darby for its good snorkeling and swimming.

The wind was absolutely howling from the northeast pushing us toward the face dock. The tidal current was also pushing us into the dock. My poor bright work was being ground into the pylons. All hands on deck and one ashore struggled with all our strength to get Peapod secure with fenders in the right places to protect the rails.

After struggling with fenders and boards for well over an hour, we retreated for lunch. Our host and yacht club owner Roosevelt Nixon suggested that Peapod would be better off on the inside of the dock where the wind would be blowing her off the pylons rather than pounding her into them all night long.

A group of young strapping yacht crew was having lunch at the next table with their passengers. In true cruiser fashion, the dilemma became a shared conversation and then a shared solution. We felt we had enough muscle to manually guide Peapod around the end of the dock and slide the stern in, positioning us for an easier exit than our grand entrance had been.

It all sounded good in theory. However, the wind, strong current and a 22,000-pound boat with lots of windage put up a heck of a fight. At a critical moment, the flagpole caught on a pylon and snapped off. Thankfully, this and a few sections of finish on the teak rails were the only injuries sustained in what could only be called another Peapod shit show.

After a long afternoon walk around the village we decided to go to Ty’s by water. Dumb idea. We left in warm sunshine but the winds were still brisk. Coming home in the pitch dark wasn’t so much fun, plowing into the waves and being washed over with cold seawater. Welcome to cruising Bob and Irene!

The forecast predicted continuing high winds with no relief in sight. So we abandoned our plans for continuing south. We headed back up Great Guana, with lovely stops at White Point and Black Point along the way. The surf was still raging on the ocean side – too wild for safe swimming this year. But in the lee, the swimming was lovely and the nights were quiet.

Then we were back at Staniel Cay, for us the heart of the Exumas. We anchored at Big Major’s, swam at Thunderball, had drinks at the funky yacht club bar and were treated by our guests to dinner at the SCYC restaurant. Amazing fresh fish dinner with delightful accompaniments and company! And no visit to Staniel would be complete without a visit with the “tame” nurse sharks, the gorgeous wall of bougainvillea and the swimming pigs.

Speaking of pigs, the news of 15 deaths in this feral community went viral in March. Sensational headlines suggested that they had died from being fed inappropriate food or alcohol by the tourists.

However, it seems that climate change may have played a role in their demise. Turns out that there had been a prolonged drought over the past winter and the limited fresh water on the island dried up. In fact, it seems they died of constipation – their bowels full of sand from eating scraps on the beach and not getting enough water to keep them “moving”.

Suddenly there is an explosion of interest worldwide and more tourists than ever are visiting Bacon Beach. Besides the nearby boaters, there are now large fast boats filled with tourists coming from as far away as Nassau to see the remaining pigs. Needless to say, Bob and Irene were delighted with the experience and spent lots of time communing with the friendly porkers.

On April 15^th we headed north with a plan to arrive in Nassau on the 18^th ahead of our guests’ flight home to Toronto on the 20^th. We gave the open ocean a pass – it was still blowing like stink – and took the shallow inside route. The Bell Island cut was raging but we managed to bypass it with some skillful tacking by the captain.

Then back to the tranquil turquoise of Little Halls’ Pond.

Our next stop was Hawksbill Cay where the sand was super-fine and the water warm for swimming.

On to Allen’s Cay and out of the Land and Sea Park, where the boys, ever hopeful, took their last frozen squid to be gobbled up by greedy, uncooperative fish. No fish dinner for us!  

The iguanas and Bahamian Mockingbirds put on their usual show for our guests while I went for a swim along a stretch of reef that turned out to be a pleasant surprise.

For all the times I had been swimming here, I had always explored the waters around Leaf Cay on the east side of the anchorage.

Having looked at the charts I decided to swim to the west of the boat. Lo and behold, a healthy reef, stretching to the southernmost tip of Allen’s. More colourful coral and best assortment of fish than I had seen in the last several years.

One more Peapod dance party and we were off to Nassau.

As our guests explored the city, David and I were preparing Peapod for the journey home. We did loads of laundry and stowed everything that could possibly fly around on a rough crossing.

Now clean and tidy, we set off for Chub Cay, our Berry Island stop before crossing the Bahama Banks to Bimini. We anchored off the beach, thankfully out of the waves and swell. As we watched the fishing fleet return to the marina with their clients and catch, we were surprised to see one of these heading our way. Apparently they had caught more fish than they could eat. The three boats in the anchorage were treated to a large Mahi-Mahi each, tossed off the bow of the fishing boat!

After David cleaned him up and washed down the decks we had an amazing dinner of fresh fish followed by several others of freshly frozen fish!

Based on advice from new friends in the next boat we made the decision to head for Cat Cay rather than Bimini. This take-off point for the Gulf Stream would give us a better trajectory to cross to West Palm Beach. As we approached the anchorage, the weather forecast looked ominous and we made a last-minute decision to bail on the anchor and tie up at the marina. This place is way more posh (and expensive) than we are accustomed to, but as the squalls hit we were very happy to be secure.

Little did we know what awaited us in the Gulf Stream this year. We set out at 0645 on April 23^rd and after the first hour, the show began. Large squalls looming in the distance as our “buddy” boat, going a little faster, disappeared into the mist. What a lonely feeling. We were not to see another boat or land for many hours, just mountainous waves coming from all directions, especially in the squalls. Some rollers were in the 11-12 foot range, and might appear suddenly on our beam. It took a huge effort to turn into them and then get back on course.

Sometimes, Peapod would leave the surly bonds of earth altogether and launch into the air off the top of a wave. The impact of re-entry was quite scary, as I had visions of her hull splitting from the force. While we normally share helm duties, I wasn’t strong enough to manage the wheel in these conditions and David was stuck with the job for most of our 12-hour crossing. I watched the chart plotter and called out course adjustments while keeping my other eye out for rogue waves.

Needless to say, there are no pictures for this part of Peapod’s adventure!

At 6:30 PM we were very thankful to be anchored at Peanut Island, just in time for a spectacular sunset. Whew!! Tried in vain to reach Homeland Security to get a check-in number, which would be important when we presented ourselves in person for clearance. Their toll-free line wasn’t working, so I dutifully recorded my calls in the log to keep us legal (sort of).

The next morning we traipsed over to the Homeland Security office, where there was a line-up of people in the same boat. It took more than two hours to get our paperwork and permission to proceed to Indiantown.

As we were late leaving West Palm Beach, we decided to anchor for the night at Peck Lake just south of Stuart, FL in the Intracoastal Waterway. Wildlife protection parks, creating a welcome respite from the conspicuous consumption culture of the ICW, surround this lovely anchorage. We had a few quiet neighbours for the night including this gorgeous sailboat. Of course we were still exhausted from our 4-day push from Nassau to Florida. We had a wonderful sleep.

We had a leisurely cruise up the Okeechobee and through the lock.

Into the shelter of our home marina we ghosted, tying up in the slip without a single bump, scrape or cuss-word. The duty ‘gator kept his eye on us while we stripped down and cleaned the canvas. I did teak touchups with Cetol then covered the rails. The handrails had custom-fitted condoms made of Sunbrella fastened with snaps. The cap rails were covered with the shade fabric I cut into pieces and held with zip ties and wire. We’ll see how they hold up in hurricane season. Next year I’ll tackle a more permanent solution.

March 2017

We had planned to stay a night or two at Emerald Bay Marina, plugged in to fully charge our batteries before continuing south to Georgetown where our friend Sandra was due to arrive a week later.

Well the east winds howled and the standing waves at the entrance to the harbour just grew and grew. In spite of the constant wind, we did some beach walking and snorkeling around Poor Betty Cay. The sand is like white talcum powder and most times we were alone on this gorgeous crescent.

Poor Betty’s small reef is in sad condition, something we have unfortunately come to expect. The other environmental concern is the presence of thousands of golf balls sent unintentionally or intentionally into the bay by golfers at the Sandal’s golf course. I wonder what their impact might be over the longer term.

Back in Florida, I had found a wonderful product at Home Depot that ended up serving many purposes.

I originally bought it to give us shade in the fly bridge when we were relaxing with sundowners at the end of the day. In the past we had used various towels and blankets to keep the blazing sun out of our eyes. This year, on a tip from a fellow cruiser, I found the perfect solution – a roll of gardening fabric designed to cut UV. I was able to cut it into different sizes and shapes for all of our sun challenges. It also proved to be ideal for protecting the basil from wind and hot sun.

Sun Screen cloth

A week went by with no reprieve from the relentless winds. Sandra arrived on March 5^th and it was another 5 days before it was calm enough to “escape” from Emerald Bay. In the meantime, we made new friends and David “consulted” with fellow cruisers on their problems, primarily electrical. Having been through every possible system failure on Peapod, he’s become quite the know-it-all!

Remember that vow about not coming in on low tide? We changed it to not coming back to Emerald Bay EVER again! In this era of climate change we seem to be spending less and less time in the open ocean and more time snuggled into the lee of the islands. Being stranded by wind both this year and last, we decided that it makes more sense for guests to fly into Staniel Cay.

For the first time in 2 weeks we had the peace and tranquil beauty we go to the Exumas for. We anchored at William’s Bay on Lee Stocking Island, near the highest point of land on this island chain. We climbed to the top for a spectacular 360° view. There were only a few other boats around but of course we met Canadians! 

This little one hailed from Toronto and was enjoying paddling (like a duck) in the warm turquoise water. See the little feet?

L23° 45.69’N; Lo 076 05.33’ W

After 2 lovely nights, we set out to Little Darby Island, travelling to the outside through Adderly Cut on a falling tide. We maybe it was the tide or maybe it was the wind against the big rollers. In any case it was a wild ride until we got into the deeper water.

It was a challenge to anchor here because there were individual coral heads scattered throughout the harbour. We eventually found a patch of sand and held well. There was great snorkeling and David speared his first yellow tailed snapper for dinner. We had a fun beach reunion with old buddies from the Emerald Bay stranded crowd.

L 23° 51.27 N; Lo 076 13.43 W

David and Jim, captain of the Ocean Dreamer, hiked up to the top of a ruined house that provided a spectacular view of our vessels. Apparently this home was occupied during the war by a German sympathizer who built a dock for U-boat refuge!

The winds were clocking around and forecast to come from the north, so we tagged along with “Ocean Dreamer” and tucked in close to Jimmy’s Cay in very shallow water. Our keel was only 6 inches from the sand at low tide, which was a bit scary.  We had scoped it out first from the dinghy with our handy-dandy portable electronic depth sounder. Probably our shallowest anchorage to date, it gave us a chance to fine-tune our depth sounder, the most critical instrument (in my opinion) on Peapod.

L 23° 52.96’ N; Lo 076° 15.09’ W

As always, when the weather is unsettled, we get the best sunsets.

After 2 nights we followed the changing winds and moved up to Little Farmer’s. For the first time in many stops here, the conditions were finally good enough to anchor off the west side at the end of a tiny airstrip. We traveled around the corner by dinghy to Ty’s Sunset Bar and Grill, which sits on a gorgeous deserted beach, for another memorable rib dinner with Sandra and our Ocean Dreamer friends.

We noodled along Great Guana Cay, grateful for its long expanse with no ocean cuts and their inevitable surging tidal currents that make sleeping and swimming more difficult.

Then, just over two weeks into her month-long holiday, Sandra received a heart-breaking message. Her younger sister had died suddenly and unexpectedly following a minor surgical procedure. Thankfully we were only an hour away from Staniel Cay, where we managed to get her on a flight to Nassau that afternoon. From there it would take her until the next morning to make her way to Moncton via Toronto, a long and painful journey.

We joined many others in the anchorage at Big Major’s hiding out from more north winds. Sandra’s new cruising friends from Summer of 42 and Ocean Dreamer gathered in the shelter of Pirate beach and raised a glass to toast the memory of her dear sister, Denise.

Meanwhile, Jim was flying his drone and taking pictures of our spectacular location.

L 24 11.424’ N; Lo 076 27.429’ W

Nearly a week later when the winds and waves died down enough for us to move again (are you sensing a pattern yet?) we set off for Little Hall’s Pond, home of Johnny Depp and friends. Here we see the most beautiful colours of turquoise in the Exumas. Jim put up his drone and captured quite a vista with Ocean Dreamer and Peapod to two nearest specks on the crystal clear sea.

The snorkeling is wonderful around the corner at the Sea Aquarium where there is one lively and relatively healthy reef. I say relatively because the reefs everywhere are looking more or less bleached and colourless. The fish are smaller and less diverse than we saw in years gone by (early 2000’s) when sailing on Mole End with Sandra and Michael. However, a soda bottle filled with seawater and homemade multigrain bread crusts do the trick to attract the fish for a photo op.