Getting Through a Weekend of Severe SquallsWe had a doozy of a storm this past weekend in Georgetown. It was big. It was scary. But it was also a great reminder of the fortitude and generosity of our sailing community. All forecasters were calling for a bad storm hitting the Bahamas from Friday through to Sunday. We personally use Windy and Chris Parker for our weather checks but we also pay close attention to any other info we may receive from friends and other cruisers. PredictWind, Mr. Weatherman, The Weather Network, Windfinder. You name it, our eyes and ears are open. And all of them were in agreement that we would get slammed with strong winds, which would be even stronger in squalls. But Georgetown is a great protected anchorage for most weather conditions so we weren’t overly worried. We were ready for 40+ knot winds. Oh, wait. What about lightning during the squalls? Well, yeah. Lightning is a serious thing. A boat struck by lightning is immediately disabled. Everything electrical gets fried. All electronics, the engine, the lights, everything. Yeah, its bad. So obviously those of us who cruise full-time have strategies to avoid lightning, right? Umm, no. Not only can we do little to avoid being in an area that might have lightning but we can’t do anything to avoid actually being struck. Especially us sailboats with a big old lightning rod attached to our boats (aka the mast). People talk about lightning avoidance gear but it has two significant disadvantages. First, most of the gear available is expensive. Second, it doesn’t work. So, the working equation goes like this…masted sailboat + electrical storm = sitting duck. Yikes! The storm this past weekend was predicted to start overnight on Friday and continue through to Sunday morning, with the worst of the storm activity occurring overnight on Saturday. On the Friday morning, Wild Horses and Caretta (our buddy boat) went into Georgetown, a 10-minute dinghy ride across the Sound from our anchorage in front of Honeymoon beach. Barry from Caretta had a physio appointment in the morning and we had booked a rental car to get him and Andrea to the appointment, and me and Mike to an amazing wholesale food store near his appointment. Returning back to the dinghy dock, we knew that the wind had started to amplify and we could see that the waves in the Sound were huge. We arrived back at Wild Horses soaking wet from the dinghy ride. No worries, we were safely back on our boat and ready to hunker down for the night’s wind event. Everything not tied down was removed from our decks. The dinghy was lifted and secured. Our full enclosure was zipped up tight. Everything was secured inside the boat (the same as we do for passages) and we had our foul weather gear at the ready. The winds only got to 33 knots that night so we considered ourselves lucky. All in all, it was comfortable, and only marginally scary 😉. The next day, Saturday, the wind stayed strong with gusts to about 25 knots, with the expectation that conditions would deteriorate throughout the evening and overnight. Forecasters were wildly in disagreement over wind strength (anywhere from 20 knots to 55 knots) and the amount of rainfall (from 5mm to 70mm). The possibility of lightning was also in the mix by a few forecasters. It is never good when there is such wide variability in the forecasts. We just have no confidence in what lies before us. It was, however, the forecasted strong west wind that had us on high alert, as it meant that we would be pushed towards our lee shore. Not ideal, but we chose to not re-locate our boat to an eastern shore in Georgetown where many boats were anchored. We were confident in our anchor set and we didn’t want to be in amongst a whole bunch of other boats that could drag into us. With over 300 boats in the Georgetown anchorages, we were happy to be in one that contained only 3 boats. The winds started to pick up just before dusk. Then the growl of thunder in the distance. The sky began to darken and flashes of lightening could be seen in the distance. Within 20 minutes, the worst of the storm was raging all around us. The wind was strong (but never over 35 knots). Sheet lightning and ground strikes were abundant. Heavy rain blinded us from seeing more than 20 feet from our boat. And, then, as strong as the wind was from the southwest, we had a 180-degree wind shift to the northeast. Our anchor dislodged as our boat and all its chain sailed over top of it. Thankfully the anchor reset itself after dragging about 20 feet. Our neighbouring boats reported the same anchor dislodgment/resetting event. Then all the weather stopped. No more rain, no more lightning, no more wind. It was dead calm for 5 hours. When the wind did pick up again, in the overnight hours, it was short lived and it came without any drama. No rain, no lightning. The next morning, we listened intently to the regular Georgetown cruising community network on the VHF. Six boats in the surrounding anchorages had been struck by lightning. Offers of gear, mechanical and electrical expertise, and just “get your hands dirty” help poured in from the cruising community. Within a few days, all six disabled boats had some power brought back to their boats, thanks to the help of their fellow boaters. We were happy that Wild Horses and Caretta had fared well through the storm. Getting through strong weather events is never fun and coming out the other side safely and with no boat issues is always the goal. One more storm in our sailing portfolio. We gain confidence and knowledge with each one of them. And when all else fails, we know that the sailing community will be there to assist in any way they can. Thank goodness. Enjoying the blog? Please share with your friends!
Our last time in Georgetown, one year ago, seemed like a blip. We were here for two weeks but, for us, the vibe was very different. We were exhausted from constant travel, still trying to get our bearings on how to do this liveaboard thing and we were nervous about making the leap to the Caribbean. Our two weeks in Georgetown was spent stocking up, fueling up, and checking out the “you-have-to-do-this” stuff like the “Chat n’ Chill” beach and exploring the island by car. We did manage to snorkel and hike a wee bit but, truly, our minds were on weather windows, planning our route south and connecting with possible buddy boats for the trip. We were in deep focus mode. This go-around is very different. Our days are sloooooooooooow. We rarely wake up with plans, yet we seem to get everything done that needs to get done, whenever it gets done. Every two or three days we will take the salty trip across the bay in order to go to town for groceries or fuel but, otherwise, we are beaching it. Or hiking. Or both 😉. We are in deep chill mode. One of our favourite haunts these days is the north section of Stocking Island, where there are a choice of beaches, one to fit whatever mood we may be in. One of the first beaches there is Starfish Beach. It is home to Da’Sandbar, a tiny shack at the tip of the beach which attracts lots of tours boats bringing weekend travelers and tourists from the nearby Sandals Resort so they can get a taste of the islands. The beach is postcard perfect and you can have a cold Kalik or Sands beer while you swim, play volleyball or just enjoy the view from the lounge chairs. It is not uncommon to have music blasting away from anchored party boats. Ocean, our pup, always gets lots of attention here from the dog-loving tourists who are missing their pups back home. Around the corner from Starfish Beach is Flip Flop Beach. It is a quiet, little oasis where hardly anyone goes. We have heard that there are little pop-up parties on this beach but it is likely that only occurs during the heart of the season (January and February). Our only encounter during the past week was a young family mixing swimming along with a few home-schooling lessons. At this beach we can swim and relax, in the shade or in the sunshine. Total tranquil bliss. And when we feel like exploring? We can take a trail from either Starfish Beach or Flip Flop Beach and walk to the windward side of Stocking Island. The ocean roars on this coast. There is no swimming or snorkeling, just walking along the shoreline, taking in the beauty and force of the ocean being slammed by the eastern trade winds. We will likely stay in Georgetown another week while another cold front pushes through. We are happy to have calm, easy days and lots of access to several amenities. We are happy to be here 😊. Enjoying the blog? Please share with friends! If you have any questions, don't hesitate to drop us a line.
Check out where we are today and where we are going next by clicking the buttons below. On Monday March 4th, Wild Horses and Caretta left our cozy spots in the south Raggeds after two glorious weeks. We had to time our exit from the anchorage with high tide as the channel leading out of the anchorage can drop below 1 metre in depth. Our keel has a depth of 1.7 metres so working with a flooding tide is critical. In fact, even with high tide, our keel momentarily touched the sandy bottom. No damage was done but it did make our hearts skip a beat! Our first two stops up the Ragged island chain were anchorages just a few hours from each other. The first was Double Breasted Cay (I have no idea who names these anchorages!!) and the second was Buena Vista Cay. Both anchorages were quite beautiful with lots of little sandbars, islands and reefs ready for exploring. We have made notes to make sure to stop at both of these anchorages when we return next winter and have lots of time to explore all their beauty. On Wednesday we were ready to make the longer jump to the island of Water Cay, at the top of the island chain. The day started well, with Wild Horses as lead boat and Caretta falling just slightly behind us, both motor sailing along in light winds. It was an easy day. That is, until it wasn’t. About 10 nautical miles from the anchorage, Caretta hailed us on the VHF. Their engine had stopped. Yikes! They knew it was likely a clogged engine filter but they wouldn’t be able to fix it underway. The wind was too light to sail so they dropped their dinghy and used it to push their boat along at 3 knots. They got to the Water Cay anchorage just as the sun was setting. We had arrived over an hour earlier and scoped out a spot for them to anchor. Once their anchor was well set in the sand, we chatted and both boats decided to stay an extra day at Water Cay so we could fix Barry’s engine. What we didn’t realize at the time was that we would also need the extra day to fix a problem of our own. During our passage to Water Cay, we kept catching a whiff of an electrical burning smell in one of our aft cabins. We checked the engine wiring, solar wiring, regulator wiring, anything and everything. Then the smell went away later that evening. Hmmm, weird. The next day, the sun was shining bright and the smell was back. Mike removed everything from our back cabin and there it was. Our three solar fuses were in full-on fondue mode. One quick visit with Barry (our solar and electrical mastermind) and fifteen minutes later we had the fuses bypassed. It isn’t a permanent solution but it will get us to Florida with all our solar energy intact. Yes! With boat issues fixed, we got to enjoy the rugged, wild beauty of Water Cay. The next day, we weighed anchor and headed away from the Ragged islands. We had decided to take a short cut to Georgetown via the Comer Channel. When arriving in the Raggeds, the only route we ever considered was the “long way”, via the Eastern shore of Long Island, which takes four long daytime jumps or a day and a half of constant around-the-clock travelling. It also exposes you to lots of ocean swell. But a few fellow sailors recommended that we take the shortcut route (the Comer Channel) which shaves two days off the journey but goes over some pretty shallow spots (below 2 metres) that we were a little nervous about. And, our timing for the tides wasn’t ideal. We would be going through the Comer Channel at dead low tide, which on this particular day was 0.1 metres below mean low water. Most of the channel was about 2 metres depth but a few spots were 1.9 metres so at dead low tide we would see 1.8 metres. That is very tight for our 1.7 metre clearance but water under the keel is water under the keel. We went for it. The result? A few “hold-the-breath” moments but we didn’t touch bottom. Not once. What we did get was delightful. A wonderful pod of four dolphins playing at our bow. In just two metres of water, the display was spectacular. I think those dolphins could feel our vibe and were there to tell us all would be okay and to chill out! We spent that evening and the whole of the next day on the western side of Long Island, at an anchorage called Thompson Bay. Here we had access to a great grocery store, a liquor store and a marine store, as well as several restaurants. As luck would have it, we were there on a Saturday and the local Farmers Market was open. Lots of fresh veggies! The next day, we headed for Georgetown. We were excited to be returning. It has been just over a year since we left this bustling anchorage, headed for Grenada. That day, so long ago, was full of emotion for us. We were saying goodbye to our buddy boats Sensai and Lola, and heading off into the crazy unknown-to-us ocean with our new buddy boats Kemana and Kesh. We were leaving safe, easy sailing waters and headed for bigger waters, challenges and new experiences. And we have returned as different sailors. We are more knowledgeable, confident, chill and happy. It has been a fabulous year and we are excited to keep doing this sailing gig and seeing where life and the wind takes us. These are pretty special days indeed. Click the buttons below to find out where we are and where we are going next!
Our days here in the Raggeds have been very relaxing. We wake up late and then slowly sip our coffees while checking out the beautiful scenery from our cockpit. Next on the agenda is heading to shore for Ocean’s first shore puppy play date with Josie, the 10-month old pot cake (mixed breed Bahamian dog) owned by Dale, one of our anchorage mates. The two dogs have become fast friends and exhaust themselves with running, tug-of-war, chewing on sticks and swimming. It is puppy nirvana. The rest of our day depends on our needs. We may do a load of laundry or make water or go to Duncan Town to drop off garbage and see if the store is open. Or we may clean the boat. Scratch that. We almost always clean the boat. We are mostly trying to stay on top of “sand intrusion” these days. Having a dog that loves the beach means that we are constantly trying to keep “the beach” out of our boat. Ocean gets a full fresh water rinse down on the swim platform of Wild Horses every time we return to the boat but it really isn’t enough. The sand is deep in her fur and only works its way out throughout the evening. We vacuum a lot! Besides puppy play dates, we have also made it a habit to head to shore during low tide. The depths in the anchorage are very “skinny”, just 3 to 4 metres at high tide and the adjacent shoreline is even more shallow than that. At low tide we can beach our dinghy on shore and walk half a kilometre into the sea, with the ocean being no higher than our shins. And the water is so clear, you can see everything. An incredible sea life ecosystem is revealed for us to enjoy. With the warm water moving against our legs, we stroll through the clean, silky sand and marvel at starfish, sand dollars, sea slugs, the occasional nurse shark, sting ray or turtle, and lots of shells. Including conchs (pronounced “konks”). Low tide makes hunting for conchs very easy. They are just sitting on the sand, slightly exposed above the water. These sea snails can be found throughout the Bahamas and although they look ghastly when extracted from their shell, they are actually quite delicious once they are cleaned and prepared. Most conchs that we come across are juveniles. Their shell is small and they haven’t yet developed the large smooth and glossy pink lip of a mature conch. Those conchs are left alone to keep growing (it can take up to five years). But we have been lucky here! Our wanderings at low tide have yielded us three mature conchs. What do we do with these creatures? We take them to the boat where Mike delicately extracts the meat. I then clean off all the nasty bits and tenderize the meat with a mallet. So far, we have only been courageous enough to make cracked conch, which is really just breaded and fried conch. It is such a tasty treat that we really don’t mind all the work that goes into getting it from sea to table. In fact, when our fellow cruiser Pierre snagged five beautiful mature conchs while snorkelling near our boat a few days ago, it was an easy “yes” from us to get the conch ready for a cracked conch feed on their beautiful catamaran “Umbono”. It was a fun time made even more amazing knowing we had harvested our own dinner 😊. Today we start travelling north again. We will head towards Georgetown, but it will likely take us a good week to get there as we plan to stop at several anchorages in the Raggeds/Jumentos along the way. We just aren’t ready to say farewell to this beautiful and inspiring part of the Bahamas. Enjoying the blog? Please share! And if you want more info on where we are today and where we are going next, click the buttons below.
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AuthorVictoria is a hiker, dog-lover, blog writer and planner extraordinaire. Oh, yeah and she is kind of fond of living on a boat. Categories
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November 2024
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