February 2017

I celebrated my birthday with roses and pizza after a delicious picnic lunch and cupcakes with Ara our dear friend who, with her husband Graham, looks after Lucy while we’re cruising. 

We ate lunch in Ara's screened porch while Lucy ran round and round the perimeter of the property, checking out all her olds smells and wild animal friends. She was clearly happy to be back in her second home and we said goodbye with no doubt that she would be spoiled rotten on her Florida vacation.

On February 6^th we set off from Indiantown, anchoring for the night in Stuart (Pendarvis Cove). The next day we checked in with Homeland Security in West Palm Beach and left the country at sunrise on the 8^th, held up by an incoming cruise ship. No choice but to wait, as you don’t want to try to outrun one of those bad boys!

As Gulf Stream crossings go, this one was pretty standard. After a deceptively calm start, we got pretty badly knocked around in “confused” seas. The basil pots went askew, a cupboard door flew off its hinges while I was making lunch and hit me in the head, whereby I dropped the large Japanese knife that I was using. It landed point down in the floor next to my bare toe.

After all this, I was a bit shaky so I took the helm while David finished making our wraps. Lesson learned. Always make your lunch before setting out across the Gulf Stream! After a 9-hour journey, we limped gratefully into the marina at West End, Grand Bahamas Island, followed closely by the intrepid “Summer of 42”.

The bad news was that we wouldn’t be able to get out of there for four days while the wind and waves were raging at the mouth of the marina.

The good news was that the marina had discounted their rates, which are normally exorbitant, because Hurricane Matthew had damaged the docks and knocked out their power. It was also a beautiful place to be “stuck”. Lovely beach and resort facilities, along with meeting great new, also stranded, boat friends.

It was here that I started my sewing project – canvas “condoms” to protect the teak railings when Peapod is in summer storage. My 40-year old Elna is still going strong, although she struggles a bit with the weight of the material. I may be in the market for a used Sailrite machine, designed for heavier work. Advice from fellow sewing boaters welcome!

When the winds finally died down, we set out for Nassau. On the advice of our new friend and fellow cruiser, the captain of “Summer of 42”, we took a different route than usual. Travelling together, we passed to the west of the Berry Islands and dropped anchor on the Bahama banks for the night. What a spectacular treat! This was a first for us, sitting on the flat calm turquoise water with no land to be seen. The moon and stars were amazing given the absence of light pollution from “civilization”.

L 25° 33.81’ N; Lo 078 07’ W

Then we were off to Nassau. It is almost inconceivable that we go from 3 metres of water in the Bahama Banks to over 3,000 metres as we cross the Tongue of the Ocean. We did a bit of touring on foot and discovered an old British fort and the Queen’s Staircase, a spectacular gash in the hillside that was carved by hand over 16 years by 600 slaves.

We also had lunch at our favourite Greek patio and met an old friend.

We even treated ourselves to dinner on the patio of Luciano’s of Chicago, a short walk from our humble marina. The dinner was amazing! The superyachts were large and shiny.

The next weather window arrived on February 18^th when we crossed over to Highbourne Cay, where we had never anchored before. In south winds we rocked and rolled all night. Next time, we would go into Allan’s Cay for better protection.

The following day we tucked into Little Cistern Cay hoping for shelter from the southerlies and SE waves. It was a gorgeous afternoon and evening. We were finally in the turquoise water and enjoyed our first swim of the winter off the deserted beach. The captain adjusted our little steadying sail, hoping to reduce our nighttime movement. However, just at bedtime the winds clocked around to NNW and boom-another sleepless night!

We finally managed to escape the northerlies, hunkering down at Big Major’s Spot, famous for its swimming pigs. We made a visit in the dinghy to nearby Staniel Cay where the wall of bougainvillea seems to be more beautiful every year.

On February 22^nd we headed out to Little Farmer’s Cay in SE winds. It was rough getting there and even rougher when we arrived with the influence of strong tidal currents. The plan was to catch a mooring ball off the yacht club (a wee, modest, friendly facility with no bells and whistles).

Well, picking up a ball is challenging at the best of times in Peapod, with her high flared bow. Picture David hanging upside down off the forward rail and running back and forth from port to starboard as I try to steer Peapod up to (and stop beside) a basketball sized wildly bobbing object. Just as we would think he had it hooked, we would be caught in a gust of wind and the target would suddenly disappear behind us.

I’m at the helm going round and round the damn thing till finally David managed to snare it with the boat hook. At that very instant, the ball came off its line and floated away, likely damaged by a fisherman’s propeller. Yikes!

By this time, we were both in a lather.  However, I was getting better at hovering, which takes a bit of practice, especially in these dreadful conditions. So after only half a dozen more tries, we managed to catch another ball, just as some nearby sailors in dinghy approached. They had watched the entire shit show, intercepted the errant ball and came over to offer help, which by that time we thankfully didn’t need. How embarrassing!

We were stuck at Little Farmer’s for three nights in high winds and squalls. The weather finally broke and we had a blissfully calm passage on the outside (Atlantic side) down to Emerald Bay marina. David threw out some lures while I kept Peapod on the right depth contour. No luck but half the fun of fishing is the anticipation! The bliss was to be short lived.

At low tide, we “surfed” into the marina on a huge roller. It was scarier than it sounds. I had been sitting on the bow as we approached the harbour entrance. Then I saw the waves coming all the way across the North Atlantic headed straight for our arse. Well I jumped up and retreated to the fly bridge where David was at the helm.

A quick surge of power (such as it is with our little Peapod engine) and aggressive steering (imagine a bucking bronco) kept us within the channel. The challenge to this entry is that the depth changes suddenly. In less than 1 nautical mile, the ocean bottom rises from 250 metres deep to 4 metres at the marina entrance, which is less than 60 metres from a shallow sand beach and coral heads. Rollers with very long fetch from the east become breakers just in the wrong place for an easy entry or exit to this otherwise lovely marina. 

We vowed we would never go in at low tide again. In fact, our vow would change over the next two weeks.

January 2017

After another two weeks of hard labour, Peapod went into the water on January 10^th, a new early-bird record for us. I continued with the teak refinishing, David inflated the new dinghy, and finished the davit installation. Lucy was much happier now that she was done with ladders.

I stopped counting after 300 hours, but the stern steps were my last task after all the rails, doors and trim. This was a good thing, as I could barely move the fingers on my right hand, a condition that has unfortunately persisted. Note the lovely pot of basil.

December 2016

Another first for us this season was that we drove down just before Christmas, rather than early January. We celebrated early with our families and planned to arrive in Indiantown on Christmas Eve. Another lesson learned. The traffic on the I-95 from Washington south was terrible. There were times when we were stopped for hours because of accidents. When the traffic was moving the speed and volume were scary.

We arrived just in time for a lovely Christmas dinner hosted by the marina. What a treat after the stressful drive! We were still in the work yard but this time we had Lucy with us. David carried her up and down the ladder to the boat a zillion times a day. She particularly enjoyed the social evenings, including New Year’s Eve.

November 2016

Our Peapod adventure started early this cruising season. My Mum had died on July 27^th 2016 after two difficult years of struggling with chronic illnesses. As the dark days of autumn approached I felt the need to do something constructive to distract me from my grieving.

We had heard from boating friends that Thanksgiving at our “home” marina in Indiantown Florida was a real treat. The owner and staff put on a week of special celebrations. The fall weather is ideal for boat work, giving a jump-start on the cruising season. I figured that a couple of weeks of sun on my eyeballs in late November would help to stave off the inevitable SAD (seasonal affective disorder) that our Canadian winter brings.

We had quite a backlog of maintenance to do. David’s fracture last season put a major dent in the time we spent in the work yard so we had big to-do lists. Both, of course, involved teak. I started at the top and tackled the flybridge. David shared the ladder time needed for the rub rails. He also stripped and refinished the teak and holly sole (interior floor), which was very worn and scuffed.

His biggest single project was installing a new system to lift our dinghy. The old Weaver davits required David to first remove and store the outboard motor, an awkward and heavy task.  Then both of us would have to haul like crazy on lines to pivot the boat up against the stern. Now one person with the aid of pulleys can do the job and the engine can be left in place. What simple and wonderful tools!

We found bug screens for the doors. They are a treat, especially while you’re on or close to land! We started off with a cheap version found in Walmart but later ordered another type that turned out to be much better quality. Highly recommended and used by the US Military! They turned out to be effective and tough. We ordered ours from Amazon – link below.

Sentry Magnetic Screen

As Thanksgiving approached, there were four days of free food and drink, a real treat when you’re slaving away all day. As Canadians it was a real pleasure to share the excitement of the season, which is quite low-key at home.

There were also pesky acorns falling all around us as we were tucked in amongst a grove of oak trees. A bonk on the head was only one of the many misadventures to be found on board. I was hyperaware of the dangers given David’s accident last year. Sharp sharp scrapers, hot hot heat guns, wobbly tall ladders, hanging upside down over the rails 8 feet in the air.  Lacerations, burns, concussions, sprains, fractures are all possible. The boat yard is really more dangerous than the boating.

We headed home at the end of the month, only to be ensnared in a weather issue in Newark. Our flight to Ottawa was cancelled and we were not able to get on another direct flight that day. We suffered the usual traveller exhaustion from waiting in lines to rebook or waiting to be called for an empty seat that never materialized.

As we really, really wanted to get home and pick up Lucy from her sitter as promised, we bailed on our return ticket and jumped onto Porter airlines. Well, we ran rather than jumped, between terminals, picking up checked luggage (which had been stored for later flights) and then sprinting for the gate just as the doors were closing. 

Their small nimble plane had no problem with the weather and they got us home safely that night via Toronto. Lesson learned. Don’t ever fly home via Newark. That whole day we heard other people’s stories about nightmares in Newark. Who knew?