Encasing oreos in epoxy resin. Stir crazy, with too much time on my hands. Like "The Shining," only the snow is melted, and 400 feet deep, and you're floating in it.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Fiberglass Vengeance, Indeed
Encasing oreos in epoxy resin. Stir crazy, with too much time on my hands. Like "The Shining," only the snow is melted, and 400 feet deep, and you're floating in it.
December 4, 2007
12-4-07
Nassau. Finally. Only 35 miles away, but a bit of a tough slog, even with the wind behind us. The boat is very difficult to steer when the waves get large, and they probably weren’t more than three feet, and far apart (swells, as they say, as opposed to steep, breaking waves) they were confused, and coming from a few directions. I get a bit nervous when out of sight of land on all sides, especially when we get storm clouds driving around in glorified lightning rod. I start imagining a lightning strike, and then what we’d do with a hole burned through the boat, and the VHF antenna fried to a paste. We almost broke down and bought a Batelco cell phone tonight, but at a dollar a minute to the states, we can’t afford it. The mooring cost $43.75 for the night, and $6.00 mandatory charge for water, even though we arrived full, and don’t even have a hose. So we just got done taking the showers of our lives. About $3 worth each. Oh, well, better than $75 next door.
Speaking of that, my skin is doing WAY better suddenly. I think having it turn totally reptilian for about a week might have helped it after all. It’s weird though, when I’m not covered in Vaseline from the waist up, I feel all my skin crinkle up when I move or twist. My skin was like that of Adrian Vandenberg, guitarist for Whitesnake- that is, the texture and color of an orange. Kind of interesting in a creepy way, but what the hell, I’m a creepy guy.
We’ll probably do all of our shopping (maybe buy a radio!) tomorrow, benadryl, Vaseline, the works, and go to Starbucks of all places, because they have free internet if you buy coffee. Works for me. I get to post about a week’s worth of blogs, and a ton of pix. Kool and the gang. Tonight we spent $16 on a smallish pizza and two cokes. Then another $8 on two blizzards at Dairy Queen. Yeah, I know. Chains suck. I hear that, but after cold canned beans for a while, you start to smell pepperoni and ice cream from a few miles at sea. Shoot, we’ve only been gone a couple weeks! I can’t imagine how we’ll be fiending for movies by the time we return, and the soft, and demure looks of Cash, and the twinkle in Mickey’s eye. Ahh, me.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Tomorrow’s the big day. We get to write to you all. Maybe even hear from some folks. Maybe if you got my message, you might have sent an email from your phones. Then I can “text” you, kinda. That would be cool to talk a bit live-ish. And I can address the lawsuit with Hammerman and Gainer (the State Farm people I worked for that screwed me out of my millions).
Who knows? Sky’s the limit. We went to a video store in the same strip mall tonight, and they had bootlegged every single movie they had. Rentals, $5. Sales, $6. All of the Faces of Death series, other horror/super morbid shit, and tons of Kung Fu, and then the video library of Sidney Poitier. That was pretty much the extent of it. There were a couple of oddballs, two documentaries- one of the Hiroshima/Nagasaki bombings, and one about the rush into the war in Iraq. It had a pic of Noam Chomsky, so we got that in the hope that the most intelligent man alive might be featured. We also noted to the clerk that all of their movies were stolen, and asked if they wanted to burn what we had, and maybe work out a trade. The guy suddenly got very hush hush, and asked that we return tomorrow and discuss it. Like everyone doesn’t know what’s up. That was kind of hilarious.
I guess the crime here is supposed to be really bad, which explains why we had to get buzzed into Radio Shack, and there’s a guard on the sidewalk, and watching the door of Domino’s. What I couldn’t understand was why there were 7 people working in this tiny Domino’s, and we were the only customers. No wonder their pizza is overpriced.
The place here has a pool too, so we plan on soaking up about $6 of its water tomorrow too. Big day planned, that.
Maybe we’ll try to get the fridge looked at, or at least call someone. We have it running off of shore power now, to see if it will cool down at all. Keep your fingers crossed, eh?
Okay, gotta run and drink some water. I have water on the brain right now, in the best of all possible ways.
Talk to you all tomorrow, I hope.
JL
Nassau. Finally. Only 35 miles away, but a bit of a tough slog, even with the wind behind us. The boat is very difficult to steer when the waves get large, and they probably weren’t more than three feet, and far apart (swells, as they say, as opposed to steep, breaking waves) they were confused, and coming from a few directions. I get a bit nervous when out of sight of land on all sides, especially when we get storm clouds driving around in glorified lightning rod. I start imagining a lightning strike, and then what we’d do with a hole burned through the boat, and the VHF antenna fried to a paste. We almost broke down and bought a Batelco cell phone tonight, but at a dollar a minute to the states, we can’t afford it. The mooring cost $43.75 for the night, and $6.00 mandatory charge for water, even though we arrived full, and don’t even have a hose. So we just got done taking the showers of our lives. About $3 worth each. Oh, well, better than $75 next door.
Speaking of that, my skin is doing WAY better suddenly. I think having it turn totally reptilian for about a week might have helped it after all. It’s weird though, when I’m not covered in Vaseline from the waist up, I feel all my skin crinkle up when I move or twist. My skin was like that of Adrian Vandenberg, guitarist for Whitesnake- that is, the texture and color of an orange. Kind of interesting in a creepy way, but what the hell, I’m a creepy guy.
We’ll probably do all of our shopping (maybe buy a radio!) tomorrow, benadryl, Vaseline, the works, and go to Starbucks of all places, because they have free internet if you buy coffee. Works for me. I get to post about a week’s worth of blogs, and a ton of pix. Kool and the gang. Tonight we spent $16 on a smallish pizza and two cokes. Then another $8 on two blizzards at Dairy Queen. Yeah, I know. Chains suck. I hear that, but after cold canned beans for a while, you start to smell pepperoni and ice cream from a few miles at sea. Shoot, we’ve only been gone a couple weeks! I can’t imagine how we’ll be fiending for movies by the time we return, and the soft, and demure looks of Cash, and the twinkle in Mickey’s eye. Ahh, me.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Tomorrow’s the big day. We get to write to you all. Maybe even hear from some folks. Maybe if you got my message, you might have sent an email from your phones. Then I can “text” you, kinda. That would be cool to talk a bit live-ish. And I can address the lawsuit with Hammerman and Gainer (the State Farm people I worked for that screwed me out of my millions).
Who knows? Sky’s the limit. We went to a video store in the same strip mall tonight, and they had bootlegged every single movie they had. Rentals, $5. Sales, $6. All of the Faces of Death series, other horror/super morbid shit, and tons of Kung Fu, and then the video library of Sidney Poitier. That was pretty much the extent of it. There were a couple of oddballs, two documentaries- one of the Hiroshima/Nagasaki bombings, and one about the rush into the war in Iraq. It had a pic of Noam Chomsky, so we got that in the hope that the most intelligent man alive might be featured. We also noted to the clerk that all of their movies were stolen, and asked if they wanted to burn what we had, and maybe work out a trade. The guy suddenly got very hush hush, and asked that we return tomorrow and discuss it. Like everyone doesn’t know what’s up. That was kind of hilarious.
I guess the crime here is supposed to be really bad, which explains why we had to get buzzed into Radio Shack, and there’s a guard on the sidewalk, and watching the door of Domino’s. What I couldn’t understand was why there were 7 people working in this tiny Domino’s, and we were the only customers. No wonder their pizza is overpriced.
The place here has a pool too, so we plan on soaking up about $6 of its water tomorrow too. Big day planned, that.
Maybe we’ll try to get the fridge looked at, or at least call someone. We have it running off of shore power now, to see if it will cool down at all. Keep your fingers crossed, eh?
Okay, gotta run and drink some water. I have water on the brain right now, in the best of all possible ways.
Talk to you all tomorrow, I hope.
JL
DECEMBER 3, 2007 and some more pictures from Great Harbour
December 3? 2007
Sitting here in the inside of Bond’s Key, Ruth just woke up. There’s some sweet tune (for the first time today) on the radio. We were trying to get am 1540 to get a weather forecast, but all we can get is right wing bullshit, trying to convince everyone that the emperor is dressed to the nines, and we need to protect against people stealing his clothes. THEY’RE EVERYWHERE. Even here, in the Bahamas, where no one lives. We’re five islands away from any life. Maybe 8 miles. 2 and a half feet of water between all of them, no fish even. Maybe a conch? No. Round where it’s deeper, possibly. It’s barren in here. We heard it might get windy, so we aren’t leaving for Nassau, even though it’s only 40 miles. You never know, especially in the dark. We snuck out into the Northwest Providence Channel to see what it was like. It was cool, three foot waves, very far apart, which you hardly know are there, but we decided to stay around just in case. On the way back in, we anchored, and here a LOUD sound off to our larboard. That’s port, or left, or whatever. I guess there’s a reef real nearby, and the waves breaking over it. Not on the chart. Whew, that was close without knowing. Okay, we wait.
We had about six pounds of fish and bunch of turkey when we cleaned the fridge, plus cheese, a bit of celery and oranges and sauces. The oranges and sauces will keep. We have a shitload of fish and some turkey and a few celery stalks. We think we can do it.
We’re running out of Vaseline to put on the keel winch and other vital parts of the boat, since we’re putting it all on me to keep my skin from falling off. All at once anyway.
Every 3rd, or maybe 2nd song on the radio is actually a thinly disguised advertisement for Bahamanian tourism. Right now it’s “Bonefish Paulie, like U.S. president Nixon, he’s legendr-ee.” True story.
Someone's been using the bow of the boat to go to the bathroom. We won’t discuss that further.
DECEMBER 2, 2007 and five more pix
December 2, 2007
So far, have seen: flying fish, a ray, 1 tiny lobster, 1 tiny squid, brain coral, sea fans, sea cucumber, jellyfish, nurse sharks, crabs, a sailfish, dolphins (not mahi-mahi, but porpoises) swimming with our boat, and many, many conch and more conch shells than I could ever imagine existed thusfar on the planet.
Okey doke, here we are on our way down to the bottom of the Berry Islands, (another place in the Bahamas where the license plates are numbered, all less than about 500), and we anchored for the night, since it’s low tide, and dark. That after one of the most incredible sunsets ever. Except for the last 6 or so. They are amazing here, I guess because it’s the sunset over the sea, but the clouds do these weird things at that time, like light up fluorescent pink and orange, and even the vapor trails behind planes turn into a scorching, luminescent pink color for the length of them. It’s a trip and a half.
We were, and are, on our way to Nassau, to do a few things. Buy groceries, of course, buy water, of course, but probably bump up on some propane, since it’s $125 a cylinder to refill, and takes some considerable time, buy a Batelco phone, (Bahamas Telephone Company, of course), buy some chain for the anchor line to add to what we have, and other sundries and supplies. But while we’re there, we have something else to add to the list: the fridge took a shit. It was cooling everything to 60 degrees, while running nonstop. Not encouraging. It was destroying our batteries, so we pulled out what we had, threw it in a big bin tote thing, and will eat what we can in the next 12 hours, and then try to get the fridge fixed in Nassau. It was a red sky tonight (sailor’s delight), so we’re hoping for good weather, and we got a secondhand report from another dude on VHF, but other than that we have no firsthand weather info, so we are going to leave with a bit of caution. It’s 35 miles to Nassau. That’s the crime capital too (as many murders this year as Detroit, I think, and only four miles across). We have to lock the place up tight. I spose I’ll tote our huge filet knife, just to be sure.
I found out something about my skin. For the last week or so, it improved rash-wise, but got really dry. So I put moisturizer on it. Then it was still dry, so I slathered on more. By the handful, all over, several times a day for several days. And my skin just got drier, and scalier, until it got puffier than Sean Combs, and very, very reptilian. It was also kind of painful, and it would sting like hell, especially where my skin had started splitting, like where my joints were, like under my armpits. Super gross. So I kept adding more and more moisturizer. Good plan, right? Wrong. Turns out I was putting some kind of body wash WITH lotion on it, not lotion. Yeah, SOAP. I was putting soap all over myself and letting it sit, over, and over and over, without washing it off. “Hey honey, will you do my back again?” So that happened. Yeah, I know, I’m a genius. I grabbed this stuff in the supermarket, and it looks like a lotion bottle, and says “with moisturizers,” etc. Hey, I was thinking about more important things. Funny, once I had decided that’s what it was while walking quickly through the supermarket, my brain just wouldn’t consider anything else till I was reading the label one day out of boredom.
The bugs here are not nearly as bad as people said (cross my fingers). But they are tiny, barely visible, and bite HARD. When you got ‘em, you got ‘em.
I really dig this ukelele. They are easy to play and fun and sound great. Whatever you play sounds awesome. My kind of instrument. I’m digging the clarinet, but I don’t know much about how to maintain it (where and how to grease, etc.) and I’m afraid this saltwater environment is hard on it. It’s squeaking like a bastard half the time, and it’s only partly because I suck at playing it.
Something cool that happened in Great Harbour. The people there are the nicest in the world, or rather, are supposed to be, and I think I believe it. It started with us going in for water at the marina. Upon arrival, I asked this cat, who I now know to be named Shaggy, how much the water was. He said $.30 a gallon, and I should just let him know how much we used, on the honor system. I asked how much for a well for the night, and he said a buck a foot (so for our boat, $25) and I said we probably wouldn’t be staying. He said “aw, what the hell, no charge.” We could stay for FREE. Then he tells me where the free, unmetered water is. Then that night, this guy Ray we met caught all these wahoo at 400 feet deep, and gave us a steak. Then another. Then another. Till we had several bags of fresh fish. The most tender you’ve ever had. Several pounds of it. We’ve had it almost every meal since, including huge hunks of it as sushi. Wowee.
We heard there was a hardware in town, so we started to walk. A block along, we get picked up by these two ladies, Patty and Bonnie. They offer a ride to the hardware. We took it, and then we realized the part we needed to fix the grill (tap and die) was not to be had on this tiny island, so we decided we’d just stop at the nearest grocery. They insisted on waiting for us to return us after. But the stores wouldn’t take credit cards. So we had to get money. We made about three trips to places to try to get a check cashed, AFTER they had to take us back to the boat for our passports. Finally, the Post Office would, but there was an hour delay. They took us home, fed us chips, and then took us back. And THEN grocery shopping. We spent our $80 getting the smallest amount of food you can imagine, but hey, we were glad to have it. AND we had our water.
They dropped us off, and then Shaggy says to us we can stay a couple more nights if we like. Free water. Showers. Toilets. Hurrah!
Did our good fortune end there? No. The following day, Patty and John and Bonnie stop by to invite us to happy hour. We go, and they end up picking up our check, and we all go to their house and cook up wahoo, eat a salad, deviled eggs, cassava, vegetables, and vodka tonics. Then they sent us home with all the food in their fridge, because they were leaving in a day to fly back to Florida.
Oh yeah. And John gave me JB Weld to fix our broken grill part. COULD THESE PEOPLE BE ANY NICER?
Oh yeah. The lady in the post office cashed our check by depositing it into her bank account and giving us cash.
Amazing. Amazingly nice people. Big karmic debts we’re incurring here.
The JB Weld worked fine where the two brass threaded pieces were loose, but then there was a gas valve where plastic met brass that kept leaking. So for that, I made up some fiberglass resin compound, and coated the whole thing. And it still leaked. So I coated it again. And it still leaked. So I coated it two more times. And it stopped, but now would not let any gas pass by because the valve had to be able to open and close. So I sawed it in half, cut the gas hose, jammed the cut tube inside the hose and put a pipe clamp around it. Now it works fine, but practically takes flight from the flames shooting out if it’s up all the way. We’ll have to watch that.
Anyway, before we had a fridge and no stove, and now we have a stove and no fridge. Maybe we’ll get it fixed in Nassau. We’ll see.
Okay, Ruth has been crashed about an hour, and we have to get up and sail to Nassau in uncertain weather, to uncertain anchorages, and navigate through a lot tomorrow. I’m sayin’ GOODNIGHT.
NOVEMBER 28, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
It’s been some good long time since I gave a damn what day of the week it was, really. Exceptin’ to note whether some store was open or not. Leastways, it don’t never hardly matter what day it is, cuz if the store closed it just figure to set a bit n wait. Whatever it is that you’re seekin’, you’ll get by and by.
Now I’ve been following it a bit more closely, so I can look up tide tables and find out whether or not the water under the boat will turn to sand or not in 6 hours. It’s good stuff to be on top of. That and the weather, but you can’t get the weather here. Ironic, since it’s pretty much the principal thing to preoccupy yourself with on a boat, and is endlessly stressed in every guide, manual, and conversation. So we get here, and there’s no forecast. This place is incredibly isolated. To give an example, we’re on the beaten path, so to speak. There’s no boat within 10 miles on the side we can see, anyway, and haven’t run past but three today who were anchored in a sheltered area, pretty much where we left from. We’re headed north from Little Harbour Cay to Great Harbour Cay. Supposedly there’s groceries, fresh water, and bread to be had. God’s fresh water that our friend at Flo’s Conch Bar shared with us turned out to be not just God’s fresh water, but God’s fresh water that tasted STRONGLY of rubber cement. We used some to bathe after a prolonged snorkel, which yielded 17 large conch in the early stage, but which I abandonded after they were too heavy. Plus, we have no way to cook, which is the other main reason we’re trying to get to Great Harbour. They say there’s a hardware there.
We need one, because the other night the movement of the rudder snagged the line for our propane grill, and I woke up to a funny smell in the cabin and hissing sound of gas. I think I reacted quickly, because the cylinder is still pretty heavy, but I’m not sure. So anyway, the brass fitting is messed up, and I’m hoping to retool it with a tap and die to make it serviceable once again. Besides being dangerous, the other drag of that event was that gas is more of a commodity than I had realized. I checked into it this summer, and heard that propane was easy to come by in the Bahamas. What they don’t tell you is that to refill a propane cylinder it costs $125 and they have to send it to Nassau to fill. They were $15 to fill at Home Depot. Damn. So that is our quest.
Speaking of low tide, we got more than halfway to our destination, and had to anchor due to sandbars in our path, due to the tide. It will be better in the a.m. I finished Feast of Snakes by Harry Crews (intense, sordid, and amoral, and very good) tonight, and am burning through ‘em. We have some enormous snails we got near Flo’s, a couple conch, which is plenty, but are sticking with cold canned food till we regain our cooking abilities. I’m having a glass of wine, and Ruth is making music that only she knows of… for now. Interesting how that pipeline flows, into her head, and in and out through fingers and headphones until it’s done, and then it emerges in fruition. Aye, she’s a clever lass. Me, I’ve been on that ukelele steady, and played one last night that she says was the best she’s heard on the ukelele, or best of something or other. Anyway, I was flattered, and now play it incessantly.
I hope to possibly find a nurse or doctor in Great Harbour, and will ask about my skin. It is against me, in a few ways.
We also need to buy an anchor light bulb, ours crapped out. Luckily we are a million miles from any other vessels or routes and so are without danger in that way. Last night, we ran other lights all night and it ate up our batteries. It is beautiful, and as I said, remote.
We decided against camping on the beautiful white beaches, realizing that in six hours they will be under three feet of water. That there was whatcha call FORESIGHT.
Okay, gotta move around. Getting’ too itchy.
XOX,
JL
P.S., I’ve been introducing myself as Buster, Knucklehead, and other names periodically, so if you found it odd and hard to start using Jack (I would too, I imagine, if I was you), you don’t need to fear, there are many more to pick from. You have my enthusiastic endorsement to call me whatever is most comfortable for you. Unfortunately “Captain Sensible” is already taken.
It’s been some good long time since I gave a damn what day of the week it was, really. Exceptin’ to note whether some store was open or not. Leastways, it don’t never hardly matter what day it is, cuz if the store closed it just figure to set a bit n wait. Whatever it is that you’re seekin’, you’ll get by and by.
Now I’ve been following it a bit more closely, so I can look up tide tables and find out whether or not the water under the boat will turn to sand or not in 6 hours. It’s good stuff to be on top of. That and the weather, but you can’t get the weather here. Ironic, since it’s pretty much the principal thing to preoccupy yourself with on a boat, and is endlessly stressed in every guide, manual, and conversation. So we get here, and there’s no forecast. This place is incredibly isolated. To give an example, we’re on the beaten path, so to speak. There’s no boat within 10 miles on the side we can see, anyway, and haven’t run past but three today who were anchored in a sheltered area, pretty much where we left from. We’re headed north from Little Harbour Cay to Great Harbour Cay. Supposedly there’s groceries, fresh water, and bread to be had. God’s fresh water that our friend at Flo’s Conch Bar shared with us turned out to be not just God’s fresh water, but God’s fresh water that tasted STRONGLY of rubber cement. We used some to bathe after a prolonged snorkel, which yielded 17 large conch in the early stage, but which I abandonded after they were too heavy. Plus, we have no way to cook, which is the other main reason we’re trying to get to Great Harbour. They say there’s a hardware there.
We need one, because the other night the movement of the rudder snagged the line for our propane grill, and I woke up to a funny smell in the cabin and hissing sound of gas. I think I reacted quickly, because the cylinder is still pretty heavy, but I’m not sure. So anyway, the brass fitting is messed up, and I’m hoping to retool it with a tap and die to make it serviceable once again. Besides being dangerous, the other drag of that event was that gas is more of a commodity than I had realized. I checked into it this summer, and heard that propane was easy to come by in the Bahamas. What they don’t tell you is that to refill a propane cylinder it costs $125 and they have to send it to Nassau to fill. They were $15 to fill at Home Depot. Damn. So that is our quest.
Speaking of low tide, we got more than halfway to our destination, and had to anchor due to sandbars in our path, due to the tide. It will be better in the a.m. I finished Feast of Snakes by Harry Crews (intense, sordid, and amoral, and very good) tonight, and am burning through ‘em. We have some enormous snails we got near Flo’s, a couple conch, which is plenty, but are sticking with cold canned food till we regain our cooking abilities. I’m having a glass of wine, and Ruth is making music that only she knows of… for now. Interesting how that pipeline flows, into her head, and in and out through fingers and headphones until it’s done, and then it emerges in fruition. Aye, she’s a clever lass. Me, I’ve been on that ukelele steady, and played one last night that she says was the best she’s heard on the ukelele, or best of something or other. Anyway, I was flattered, and now play it incessantly.
I hope to possibly find a nurse or doctor in Great Harbour, and will ask about my skin. It is against me, in a few ways.
We also need to buy an anchor light bulb, ours crapped out. Luckily we are a million miles from any other vessels or routes and so are without danger in that way. Last night, we ran other lights all night and it ate up our batteries. It is beautiful, and as I said, remote.
We decided against camping on the beautiful white beaches, realizing that in six hours they will be under three feet of water. That there was whatcha call FORESIGHT.
Okay, gotta move around. Getting’ too itchy.
XOX,
JL
P.S., I’ve been introducing myself as Buster, Knucklehead, and other names periodically, so if you found it odd and hard to start using Jack (I would too, I imagine, if I was you), you don’t need to fear, there are many more to pick from. You have my enthusiastic endorsement to call me whatever is most comfortable for you. Unfortunately “Captain Sensible” is already taken.
YOU WELCOME
TITLES: in order top to bottom
YOU WELCOME, the sign on top of Flo's Conch Bar, the only building on Little Harbour Island
A picture of the inside of the bucket of the water we got at Flo's. Believe me, it tasted WAY worse than this debris would indicate...
Ukeleles hanging on our wall, from velcro... quick access
Jellyfish
"Mackerel sky, 12 hours dry" as the saying goes
November 26, 2007
WOW, People are really cool here. Yesterday Ruth and I went walking along the beach (really lava rocks) and ended up with about 15 small to medium conchs. We hauled them back, and as we walked up the dock, we saw 6 monsterous conchs that someone else got. We were cracking ours, and then they came over, it was these two cats Stitchy and Ace. I’m not sure if those were their Christian names, but they were cool. They ended up filling a bowl full of conch meat from those conchs, maybe half of their catch, and giving it to us. They didn’t even know it was my birthday. Pretty cool. That, and the loaf of bread was pretty intense.
Later, in the bar, I tried to buy them a round, but the bartenders weren’t charging me. We got talking about needing a phone, and they said they had an extra Batelco Simms card to put in my phone to make it work here. When we tried it, it didn’t work, but that was damned cool of them. We got their numbers, and hope to see them again when we get up to Sandy Pointe, off of the Bight of Abaco in a few days.
Today, we were down on our water after leaving there, and we came to this place called Flo’s Conch Bar on Little Harbour Cay. The only building on the island, I think, except some deserted fort or something up on the bluff overlooking the Atlantic. This is a GORGEOUS place by the way. It looks like some kind of imaginary place. The harbour is small and blue, surrounded by a maze of tiny islands. The sign painted on the roof says “YOU WELCOME.” There are piles of conch shells 15 feet high by maybe 200 feet wide forming the breakwater on the shore. Incredible. Inside we ask the guy, Chester, if they have water to sell. No, he says. But he ends up telling us we can take some from the cistern for the restaurant. We offer to pay, but he refuses. Water costs money most places here, even when it runs out of pipes. And he’s giving us his water. “It’s God’s water,” he says. “I can’t charge you for God’s water.”
Oh yeah. The bad news. The rudder moved yesterday breaking a crucial brass fitting for our stove, so no more hot food till we get that fixed, or buy a new one. We’re hoping to find a tap and die in Great Harbour, our next stop, and get it taken care of. That and some more bread. The new gold standard. In college it was salsa. Now it’s bread and water.
It’s crazy how isolated, undeveloped, and remote this place is. Of the 700 plus islands in the Bahamas, most are uninhabited. The few that have people are full of very few people. Big culture shock. No radio, still broken. No TV. No phones. No credit cards at Flo’s Conch Bar, and we don’t have any cash. Water is even a scarcity. Conch though, are plentiful.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Happy Smallpox Blanket Day!
Hey, one more thing everybody:
If we suddenly don't write today, or tomorrow, or whatever, it's because the online place closed, and we had to move on, or something mundane like that. Don't let it worry you if we're back out of touch, it just means we can't get online, and there are effectively no phones here until we can buy a Batelco cellphone. So anyway, don't worry.
Okay, see ya later.
If we suddenly don't write today, or tomorrow, or whatever, it's because the online place closed, and we had to move on, or something mundane like that. Don't let it worry you if we're back out of touch, it just means we can't get online, and there are effectively no phones here until we can buy a Batelco cellphone. So anyway, don't worry.
Okay, see ya later.
Birthday wish
I got my birthday wish... I got to talk to my family. My mom, and my dad, and they told me everyone was well. That's all I needed.
And Becky emailed while I was online. She met her brother and is going to meet her sister soon!! HELL YEAH. That is AWESOME.
And Becky emailed while I was online. She met her brother and is going to meet her sister soon!! HELL YEAH. That is AWESOME.
People are so cool here
Everywhere we go here, people are really awesome. Most of them are people you would pick for friends, and I know how picky you are in that regard. Well, you can't be too choosy, or you wouldn't be reading this... ahem. Anyway, we came in yesterday, and asked one guy if there was anywhere around to buy some bread. He said no, but his wife would tell us how to make it in a pot, she's nearby. We said no, we were in a hurry to use the online stuff and post, and so we moved on.
When we woke up this morning, someone had put a loaf of bread in our boat .
When we woke up this morning, someone had put a loaf of bread in our boat .
Pile o' conchs, fullsails, blue water, our big catch
Pile o' conchs, fullsails, blue water, our big catch
November 24, 12:36pm
I forgot to mention the guy I met the other day with Ruth. His name is Ansel Saunders, brother of the Ashley Saunders who wrote the biography of Bimini. Quite an extraordinary guy. He's 74, and a Bimini native. Besides having Martin Luther King on his boat 3 days before he was shot, and having the world record bonefish, he builds boats. Wooden boats that you wouldn't believe. They're GORGEOUS, and it takes him about 6 months to build one, by hand, from scratch. He takes a boat to South Bimini, cuts down a horseflesh tree with a chainsaw, and then uses the wood from that, plywood from Africa (teak, I think), some white oak, and a ton of work. His picture is here with one of his boats in progress. I have more I'll show to you all later. He uses brass screws, just like my grandfather, handsaws like my grandfather used, a folding tape measure like grandpa Charlie, and a jack plane. It was like hanging out in my grandfather's old workshop when I was a kid, seeing some of the same tools, tools I never saw anywhere again. I can still remember that smell of sawdust. Anyway, we bought a copy of his brother's book from him, even though we were low on money, and it has a story about the bonefish record. He also had a CD he made, of the Psalm he wrote (I think the 51st? Take how many there are in the Bible, and add one, anyway). It's a poem, about how beautiful nature is, and how there must be a god because of how awesome it is. He read it to Martin Luther King and he said that Martin Luther King said he felt he could see God's face when he listened to him speak of it. Wow. We didn't have money to get that too, we were tapped. He ended up giving us one, and saying we could pay him later. Send it to " Ansel Saunders, Bahamas" and he would get it. Pretty cool mail system. Maybe I'll at least put "North Bimini" on there to be safe.
I gave him a hug, and he actually made me cry looking at his boats.
I had him autograph the book to Ruth, Me, and Charles Hayward, my Grandpa.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
NoVembER 24
We're here in Fraser's Hog Cay, at the Berry Island Club. Really three dudes playing monopoly at an otherwise abandonded resort, and two dogs, intensely flea ridden, who instantly jumped onto our legs as we walked by, but hey, they're wireless. So I'm on here now, Ruth is checking our bank account to see if we can afford to stay here tonight, and I'm checking my email/posting this. We're here because my birthday is tomorrow, and my wish is to talk to my family and friends and know that all are well.
That and for my skin to improve a bit. I am just about out of treatments/tubes of creams,liniments, salves, lotions, butters, oils, and snakeoils. I have benadryl tablets, but that's about it. The good news is: today it seems like it's way better. Yeah, I know, big deal, but if you were covered by a rash for a year, all over, that itched really bad, you'd be celebrating too. Maybe it's on the retreat...
We went conching the other day, and got 7 conch, and made a nice conch salad, but didn't know to skin them, so it was a bit tough. We ate what we could raw, but I oversalted them, and ate the rest for breakfast today, fried. Pretty good. The food situation is a bit weird. An example is at the Chub Cay Club where the rooms are a couple grand a night, they have two stores, neither of which carries bread. One had sweet potatoes, for three and a half bucks apiece. Liquor is cheaper here than at home. Absolut, Maker's Mark, whatever you like. I haven't been taking too much advantage, because I think it aggravates this skin condition. Oh, that and we have maxed out credit cards, and several checks ago, we had 4 dollars in our account. We haven't spent much money for like 5 days though, (nowhere to spend it, even on bread), so hopefully we're getting ahead of our budget again.
Anyway, it's taking her forever to check our bank account, (wait, the latest is: Planned System Maintenance, SITE DOWN TEMPORARILY. ..) but I'm just going to write that we love all of you guys, and we're thinking of you.
Oh, P.S.: There was a TRUCK under the water on the way into the dock. This place is crazy. We were alone in this bay last night, that was maybe ten miles across, with largely uninhabited islands on all sides, and no other boats. Amazing. For like 24 hours. And the water is that raspberry slushee blue that you think is totally fiction. If only there was a fish in there with my name on it...
I'll write again before I leave here, I'm sure. In the meantime, love to everyone. Do me a favor and write me an email and tell me you're okay, alive, etc. Being out of touch means we get ZERO news of any of you, and if you get hit by a bus, we have no way of knowing. Please let us know that no buses have been in your recent history.
XOX,
JL
That and for my skin to improve a bit. I am just about out of treatments/tubes of creams,liniments, salves, lotions, butters, oils, and snakeoils. I have benadryl tablets, but that's about it. The good news is: today it seems like it's way better. Yeah, I know, big deal, but if you were covered by a rash for a year, all over, that itched really bad, you'd be celebrating too. Maybe it's on the retreat...
We went conching the other day, and got 7 conch, and made a nice conch salad, but didn't know to skin them, so it was a bit tough. We ate what we could raw, but I oversalted them, and ate the rest for breakfast today, fried. Pretty good. The food situation is a bit weird. An example is at the Chub Cay Club where the rooms are a couple grand a night, they have two stores, neither of which carries bread. One had sweet potatoes, for three and a half bucks apiece. Liquor is cheaper here than at home. Absolut, Maker's Mark, whatever you like. I haven't been taking too much advantage, because I think it aggravates this skin condition. Oh, that and we have maxed out credit cards, and several checks ago, we had 4 dollars in our account. We haven't spent much money for like 5 days though, (nowhere to spend it, even on bread), so hopefully we're getting ahead of our budget again.
Anyway, it's taking her forever to check our bank account, (wait, the latest is: Planned System Maintenance, SITE DOWN TEMPORARILY. ..) but I'm just going to write that we love all of you guys, and we're thinking of you.
Oh, P.S.: There was a TRUCK under the water on the way into the dock. This place is crazy. We were alone in this bay last night, that was maybe ten miles across, with largely uninhabited islands on all sides, and no other boats. Amazing. For like 24 hours. And the water is that raspberry slushee blue that you think is totally fiction. If only there was a fish in there with my name on it...
I'll write again before I leave here, I'm sure. In the meantime, love to everyone. Do me a favor and write me an email and tell me you're okay, alive, etc. Being out of touch means we get ZERO news of any of you, and if you get hit by a bus, we have no way of knowing. Please let us know that no buses have been in your recent history.
XOX,
JL
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
11-18/21 Still alive and well!
11-18-07
Well, we just left Bimini. I wished I could have had email signal (coming in free from the Big Game Club often) before we left so I could send a farewell to the family, at least for a week or so. When we went to leave, the engine, she’s a no-start. She’s a cruel mistress, the engine. It sucked because we were going to leave with two other boats, really cool cats too. Had an amazing lobster/fish/redbeans n rice/potato feast with ‘em all last night. Oh yeah, and some vodka. Good times, they tell me.
It turns out after some playing around that the saltwater had made it’s way into the engine compartment and seized up the starter, but I got that sucker working by and by. It’s crazy how the salt made it’s way in here. It was through the boat, as I’ve documented, but tools that never got “wet” still seized from all the mist, and thus, corrosion.
My skin is still royally fucked up. I hoped leaving our beloved beasts might bring some relief, but alas, not yet. I think I’m in a vicious cycle where it can’t heal because I tear the hell out of it in my sleep from getting hot on whatever side’s down. I wake up, and tear it up.
‘
Saw the wreck of the Sibona, and a boat from Belize today. Beautiful tragedy, that. The Sibona is a ferrocement boat, which has a cement hull that the Japanese started building in WWII, the later. Anyway, the thing sank. Turns out cement is heavy. (just kidding, it’s not).
Ruth is at the helm, and it’s time to take the sails down. Gotta run.
XOX
Big J
11-21-07
Hi, I’m back. We’re trying like hell to get an internet or phone connection around here. We’re at Chub Cay, at a marina that’s like $112 a night to dock… I don’t think so, buster. We were in a litte river though, and decided to poke around in the dinghy looking for conch and checking out this boat that sank hitting something we hit too (but didn’t sink), and while there, we see two kayaks going out into the gulf, floating with the current. We haul ass, paddle like hell to ‘em, get one, I jump in it and get the other, Ruth jumps in it, we paddle against the current to shore, and saved someone their kayaks. Probably they beached ‘em and the tide came in and they floated out. So the owner’s dad said the son was out lobstering, and “he’ll be so grateful he’ll give you his bucket of lobsters,” blah blah. “He’ll come by your boat and thank you,” etc. Son pokes around, never does stop by to say thanks, and eventually we decide to come in and try to use the internet, and buy bread. We land our dinghy on a posted, private beach, right in front of the guy’s house, and he’s out on the porch. We ask if we can keep the dinghy there for a few and he hems and haws, after all that. His son is there, and not until I say “did you find your paddle?” does he say “yeah, thanks.” Nice guy. And polite! Wow. The dad’s name was Bill, by the way.
So we leave our dinghy there, and walk into the spendy marina, and the whole place is some bummed out ghost town. Half built. No progress recently. Overstaffed, and still empty. Few, if any, guests. But strangely enough, they let us use their internet and gave us the password and everything. We told them we were friends of Bill’s. So here we are in the sales office of this place waiting to get kicked out. Wondering if our dinghy will go out with the tide, we pulled it up on shore, where Bill said it was okay, but forgot to tie it, and we’re just hoping to get a cell signal to tell everyone why we’re not writing or an internet signal for the same purpose. We’re pretty much underneath a giant cell tower, but… no signal.
This sales office is SUPER bummed out. It’s all these nicely lit posters of what this place would look like one day if they hadn’t run out of money. I feel bad for the owners.
Anyway, again, I just wanted to apologize for leaving Bimini without telling people where we were going, and why they weren’t hearing from us. That’s the bulk of my purpose in writing at the moment. While I’m on the subject, I should probably say that the next plan is to swing around to Fraser’s Hog Key, really the other side of this island, and then maybe at some point down to Providence/Nassau to buy skin cream, propane, a car stereo, bread, etc. And hopefully, to write to everyone, and maybe even call. After that, possibly up to the Bight of Abaco (supposed to be good fishing), and then maybe to the Exumas. We really don’t know where we’re going. We just know it’s beautiful, relatively untouched, and no internet. No bread. Oh, and tomorrow, we’re going fishing.
I’m going to abruptly say this, before we lose signal, or get thrown out… Please know we are safe, hanging in calm waters, sheltered harbors, nice weather, beautiful scenery, and can’t write home. Please pass the word, we are fine, but can’t communicate often. We hope to write online maybe once a week if we’re lucky, and I imagine there are stretches of the Bahamas where there will be no internet for weeks. I hope you understand, and have faith that we are fine and love you all very much. I guess I have a birthday coming up, so if that comes up, maybe at like a prescribed time, let’s say, 9pm, Eastern Time, November 25, you raise your glass to me, and know that somewhere, I’m raising my glass to you, and that’ll be my birthday present. If you are reading this, you know that I love you very much. Okay, less typing, time to send this!
Your pal,
Jack
Well, we just left Bimini. I wished I could have had email signal (coming in free from the Big Game Club often) before we left so I could send a farewell to the family, at least for a week or so. When we went to leave, the engine, she’s a no-start. She’s a cruel mistress, the engine. It sucked because we were going to leave with two other boats, really cool cats too. Had an amazing lobster/fish/redbeans n rice/potato feast with ‘em all last night. Oh yeah, and some vodka. Good times, they tell me.
It turns out after some playing around that the saltwater had made it’s way into the engine compartment and seized up the starter, but I got that sucker working by and by. It’s crazy how the salt made it’s way in here. It was through the boat, as I’ve documented, but tools that never got “wet” still seized from all the mist, and thus, corrosion.
My skin is still royally fucked up. I hoped leaving our beloved beasts might bring some relief, but alas, not yet. I think I’m in a vicious cycle where it can’t heal because I tear the hell out of it in my sleep from getting hot on whatever side’s down. I wake up, and tear it up.
‘
Saw the wreck of the Sibona, and a boat from Belize today. Beautiful tragedy, that. The Sibona is a ferrocement boat, which has a cement hull that the Japanese started building in WWII, the later. Anyway, the thing sank. Turns out cement is heavy. (just kidding, it’s not).
Ruth is at the helm, and it’s time to take the sails down. Gotta run.
XOX
Big J
11-21-07
Hi, I’m back. We’re trying like hell to get an internet or phone connection around here. We’re at Chub Cay, at a marina that’s like $112 a night to dock… I don’t think so, buster. We were in a litte river though, and decided to poke around in the dinghy looking for conch and checking out this boat that sank hitting something we hit too (but didn’t sink), and while there, we see two kayaks going out into the gulf, floating with the current. We haul ass, paddle like hell to ‘em, get one, I jump in it and get the other, Ruth jumps in it, we paddle against the current to shore, and saved someone their kayaks. Probably they beached ‘em and the tide came in and they floated out. So the owner’s dad said the son was out lobstering, and “he’ll be so grateful he’ll give you his bucket of lobsters,” blah blah. “He’ll come by your boat and thank you,” etc. Son pokes around, never does stop by to say thanks, and eventually we decide to come in and try to use the internet, and buy bread. We land our dinghy on a posted, private beach, right in front of the guy’s house, and he’s out on the porch. We ask if we can keep the dinghy there for a few and he hems and haws, after all that. His son is there, and not until I say “did you find your paddle?” does he say “yeah, thanks.” Nice guy. And polite! Wow. The dad’s name was Bill, by the way.
So we leave our dinghy there, and walk into the spendy marina, and the whole place is some bummed out ghost town. Half built. No progress recently. Overstaffed, and still empty. Few, if any, guests. But strangely enough, they let us use their internet and gave us the password and everything. We told them we were friends of Bill’s. So here we are in the sales office of this place waiting to get kicked out. Wondering if our dinghy will go out with the tide, we pulled it up on shore, where Bill said it was okay, but forgot to tie it, and we’re just hoping to get a cell signal to tell everyone why we’re not writing or an internet signal for the same purpose. We’re pretty much underneath a giant cell tower, but… no signal.
This sales office is SUPER bummed out. It’s all these nicely lit posters of what this place would look like one day if they hadn’t run out of money. I feel bad for the owners.
Anyway, again, I just wanted to apologize for leaving Bimini without telling people where we were going, and why they weren’t hearing from us. That’s the bulk of my purpose in writing at the moment. While I’m on the subject, I should probably say that the next plan is to swing around to Fraser’s Hog Key, really the other side of this island, and then maybe at some point down to Providence/Nassau to buy skin cream, propane, a car stereo, bread, etc. And hopefully, to write to everyone, and maybe even call. After that, possibly up to the Bight of Abaco (supposed to be good fishing), and then maybe to the Exumas. We really don’t know where we’re going. We just know it’s beautiful, relatively untouched, and no internet. No bread. Oh, and tomorrow, we’re going fishing.
I’m going to abruptly say this, before we lose signal, or get thrown out… Please know we are safe, hanging in calm waters, sheltered harbors, nice weather, beautiful scenery, and can’t write home. Please pass the word, we are fine, but can’t communicate often. We hope to write online maybe once a week if we’re lucky, and I imagine there are stretches of the Bahamas where there will be no internet for weeks. I hope you understand, and have faith that we are fine and love you all very much. I guess I have a birthday coming up, so if that comes up, maybe at like a prescribed time, let’s say, 9pm, Eastern Time, November 25, you raise your glass to me, and know that somewhere, I’m raising my glass to you, and that’ll be my birthday present. If you are reading this, you know that I love you very much. Okay, less typing, time to send this!
Your pal,
Jack
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Pictures to come soon, I swear.
As soon as I upload those suckers, they'll be up. First I gotta eat though. You blame me? Damn.
First Day in the Bimini
November 13
Went to bed last night at like 7:00. Woke up at midnight, refreshed. Ready to take on the world, some ocean, or a marlin. Read 5 chapters of The Sun Also Rises, apropos of the marina we are at, home of the “Hemingway Tournament.” Big Hemingway place. Wish he were here, so I could kick his ass, so he could buy me a drink after. Then we’d ride bulls across the deck to haul in a whale or two. Ruth and I got up. Hung EVERYTHING out to dry. Got a huge red snapper for dinner off a fisherman. How to gut a fish? I’ll check into it. Had an amazing lunch with James. Went down the main road of Bimini. About 9 feet wide. Enough for 1 ½ golf carts if neither driver had been drinking. Right. Met a dude named “Checkitout.” Not his Christian name. Actually, “Paul.” (is a Christian name.) Sells ganja. Nice guy. Listened to the Bahamanian obituaries on the radio, which are on at least 15 frequencies. No kidding. Met another cat who told us he was building a transformer. I looked at it.
I looked at it again.
It was a tunafish can, with holes punched in it, duct taped to a beer can, with a 16 penny nail punched in it, with pipe clamps around it. There were also pieces of ground wire tied in knots at various places around it. It didn’t look particularly effective, except at transforming garbage into differently shaped garbage.
Besides being an inventor, or technician of sorts, he was also:
285 years old
a former member of the New England Patriots
held in the dungeons at NASA
been shot through the hand (apparently just glazed him)
had “Air Force” written in Sharpie on his hat
I’m here to tell you, there’s no way this dude was in the air force. He was squinting, and I happen to know it takes extraordinary vision to be a so called “Top Gun.”
Had Bimini bread, of the sweet potato variety. Best bread I have ever had, except my mother’s. Basically, sweet potato mash, oil, and some sugar. No idea if it rose at all, but it made me STRONG.
Got a Guiness in the bottle, sans nitrogen capsule. This reference will be lost on most, but suffice to say, you haven’t been able to purchase this, my favorite of favorite beers in the states since about 2000. They stopped making it, I thought. No idea how long this one was around. I didn’t ask. I drank that sucker, still cold. Aw yeah.
Everybody here says "good afternoon," but the most common is "All right." That's the first thing they say. Kinda like "what's up." Period.
The radio is fried from the inexplicable indoor salt splash. The radio has resumed salsa. My salsa jar is empty of whisky. Ruth is making hamburger with onions, green peps, and some noodle concoction and it smells magnificent. (Did I mention that she is my religion? Her and my mom. BELIEVE THAT.)
Why am I here typing?...
Love you guys. All
.
GOTTA GO!!!!!
Went to bed last night at like 7:00. Woke up at midnight, refreshed. Ready to take on the world, some ocean, or a marlin. Read 5 chapters of The Sun Also Rises, apropos of the marina we are at, home of the “Hemingway Tournament.” Big Hemingway place. Wish he were here, so I could kick his ass, so he could buy me a drink after. Then we’d ride bulls across the deck to haul in a whale or two. Ruth and I got up. Hung EVERYTHING out to dry. Got a huge red snapper for dinner off a fisherman. How to gut a fish? I’ll check into it. Had an amazing lunch with James. Went down the main road of Bimini. About 9 feet wide. Enough for 1 ½ golf carts if neither driver had been drinking. Right. Met a dude named “Checkitout.” Not his Christian name. Actually, “Paul.” (is a Christian name.) Sells ganja. Nice guy. Listened to the Bahamanian obituaries on the radio, which are on at least 15 frequencies. No kidding. Met another cat who told us he was building a transformer. I looked at it.
I looked at it again.
It was a tunafish can, with holes punched in it, duct taped to a beer can, with a 16 penny nail punched in it, with pipe clamps around it. There were also pieces of ground wire tied in knots at various places around it. It didn’t look particularly effective, except at transforming garbage into differently shaped garbage.
Besides being an inventor, or technician of sorts, he was also:
285 years old
a former member of the New England Patriots
held in the dungeons at NASA
been shot through the hand (apparently just glazed him)
had “Air Force” written in Sharpie on his hat
I’m here to tell you, there’s no way this dude was in the air force. He was squinting, and I happen to know it takes extraordinary vision to be a so called “Top Gun.”
Had Bimini bread, of the sweet potato variety. Best bread I have ever had, except my mother’s. Basically, sweet potato mash, oil, and some sugar. No idea if it rose at all, but it made me STRONG.
Got a Guiness in the bottle, sans nitrogen capsule. This reference will be lost on most, but suffice to say, you haven’t been able to purchase this, my favorite of favorite beers in the states since about 2000. They stopped making it, I thought. No idea how long this one was around. I didn’t ask. I drank that sucker, still cold. Aw yeah.
Everybody here says "good afternoon," but the most common is "All right." That's the first thing they say. Kinda like "what's up." Period.
The radio is fried from the inexplicable indoor salt splash. The radio has resumed salsa. My salsa jar is empty of whisky. Ruth is making hamburger with onions, green peps, and some noodle concoction and it smells magnificent. (Did I mention that she is my religion? Her and my mom. BELIEVE THAT.)
Why am I here typing?...
Love you guys. All
.
GOTTA GO!!!!!
Crossing the Gulf (wow) Nov. 13?
November 14, they tell me.
Okay. So, where do I start? We watched the weather, and decided against various days for 10 days straight, basically because there was a north wind. No North Wind. That’s the mantra. So we waited. And waited. Every day some north wind. The reason being that the Gulf Stream runs north at 2 ½ knots (3 mph to you landlubbers) and when the wind crosses it, the waves grow. And grow, and the more they grow, the more they grow. Because the little dents the wind makes, the wind can grab onto as it blows. And the wind blows on a 2 foot wave, and the top of the wave is exposed to more wind, and the bottom isn’t, and so it grows. And grows. And grows.
So that’s the problem. So we cross. We got up at 3am, out in the harbor, stuck in the shallows at 4. Out of there, 4:10. So far, so good. We get out in the Gulf Stream ten miles, and the seas grow from 3 feet to 6 feet. And up. The forecast was 2-4, and then falling down smaller. Plus, the closer to where the wind starts blowing across the water, the less room it has to build the waves. So, the idea is that by the time we get there, they should be smaller. And the axis of the Gulf Stream is near Florida, 15 miles out, and it’s far from Bimini, where we decided to go first, because it’s closest. Well, anyway, that all sounds good on paper.
We get out there, and the seas grow. Not only that, but the wind grows. East wind. (the Gulf Stream runs north-northeast). So east isn’t so good, but at least it’s not the north, right? Well it didn’t start out that way. It shifted to the north right away. First 5 knots. As predicted. Then ten knots. The outside estimate of the prediction.
Oh, more background: I was going to put the bolt through our keel before we left. It swings up toward the boat so you don’t ground in shallow water. After we got stuck (4:00) James, the guy driving the other boat headed out. I thought, no biggie. I won’t put the bolt through the keel. Something that’s a precaution to make the boat self righting in case of a capsize, but otherwise better to leave out, in case you hit bottom it can swing back. Still with me? Good.
Okay, so I start to see bigger and bigger seas, and as a precaution, I decide “I’ll go put that bolt in now. We’re in plenty deep water, we’re more likely to capsize than run aground now.” So I take the bolt out of it’s seat, where it has the role of keeping water out of the boat, basically at the waterline. I lower the keel so the holes line up, and go to replace it.
But it doesn’t go.
It won’t fit. The holes won’t line up, because of the sideways push on the keel from the wind. So now it’s half in, half out.
It’s stuck.
And every time we hit a wave, water shoots through both sides of the holes into the boat. I fought with it, and fought with it, and really broke a sweat (I rarely sweat), and got it out. Put the keel back in swing mode, replaced the bolt, and locked it in place, and the water out. So that worked out.
Things were cool for several hours. It was beautiful. Gorgeous clouds, sunrise, (we got pictures), got a rainstorm for five minutes and a huge rainbow (no pictures), saw flying fish, and the bluest water ever. Like a mile deep, crystal clear. Pretty cool.
Eventually, things got bad. Winds picked up, now in addition to the big waves from the north we were crossing at an angle, which was fairly comfortable, sails up and motor on, we got 20mph winds from the east, on the nose, so motor only, and the boat is less stable. They grew. They got big. The period between the waves shrank. That means the wave shapes get steeper. A lot steeper. As we got closer, it got crazier, and crazier, and weirder and freakier.
We made it, obviously. But here’s some gory details to try to convey the size of the load in my pants by the time we got done:
Remember that part in the Perfect Storm when Marky Mark is on deck wrestling with some line on the bow as the rest of the Funky Bunch wrangle the boat around and there’s like sheets of water landing across everybody? It was kinda like that. Wet. Salty.
So wet, that even though the cabin was locked tight, the whole inside was drenched. So wet, our clothes were soaked under our doubled raingear (bibs, jacket with hood).
So salty that I just took a shower, and there was little cubes of salt on either side of my eyes, and in my eyelashes, crystallized- AFTER I got out of the shower. And I’m a thorough showerer. (showerist? Anyway…)
So wavy, that at times our boat would launch off of a wave, and I could feel air under the rudder (which is in the back, you landlubber). When the waves stacked up, coming from all different directions, and they’re 8-10 feet tall, and all in a bunch (gaggle? Herd? Bevy? Bushel?) they looked like a mountain range on a video game. Spiky. Hard to pour gas into a fuel tank in that shit, believe me.
James said he could see our keel (the fin under the boat) in the air off of the big waves. Some were breaking across our bow, all the way up to the MAST. Our boat is 25 feet long. That’s some big waves.
So we made it. We’re sitting on a wet bed, in dry clothes, in Bimini, and it’s beautiful. The water was the color of a blue slurpee (slushee) but brighter, when we got here 12 hours or so later.
Oh, and the last mile or so, the engine made some really funny noises, so we’re lucky we got here when we did. And not Ha Ha funny, like when I step on a rake and it hits me in my giant oversized novelty clown nose. But like a grating, and a crazy POP sound. Oh well, now we have something to do tomorrow.
By the time it was over, I was using both the tiller AND the motor to steer in unison. It was that hard to navigate. Oh yeah, and the tiller handle on the motor came off while we were in the middle of it. I had to screw the pieces back together while Ruth steered and the Funky Bunch threw Marky Mark lifelines in my mind. Ruth did so MUCH, besides steer (which she did A LOT, in addition to all of the other stuff she did, which was basically everything else, like weigh anchor, pour gas, talk on the VHF radio when needed, read charts, etc. etc. I married a total BADASS. She even made us sandwiches. Now she’s next to me in our wet bed, with the rigging shuddering in the wind, the waves lapping, me tapping, and she’s reading about how to catch a marlin in the Gulf.
James rocked too. He knows his shit, and it’s a reassurance to sail along side someone who knows what’s up so much, reads the maps right, gives us fuel injection cleaner when the engine was racing in idle, and even bought us conch fritters for dinner when we got here. Great guy, even if he did sail on autopilot most of the way, the bastard.
I have boxed 10 rounds, I have crashed cars, I have jumped out of an airplane, and nothing, I don’t think was as intense as this.
WOW. I’m beat. I’m going to BED.
WOW.
I repeat: WOW.
Okay. So, where do I start? We watched the weather, and decided against various days for 10 days straight, basically because there was a north wind. No North Wind. That’s the mantra. So we waited. And waited. Every day some north wind. The reason being that the Gulf Stream runs north at 2 ½ knots (3 mph to you landlubbers) and when the wind crosses it, the waves grow. And grow, and the more they grow, the more they grow. Because the little dents the wind makes, the wind can grab onto as it blows. And the wind blows on a 2 foot wave, and the top of the wave is exposed to more wind, and the bottom isn’t, and so it grows. And grows. And grows.
So that’s the problem. So we cross. We got up at 3am, out in the harbor, stuck in the shallows at 4. Out of there, 4:10. So far, so good. We get out in the Gulf Stream ten miles, and the seas grow from 3 feet to 6 feet. And up. The forecast was 2-4, and then falling down smaller. Plus, the closer to where the wind starts blowing across the water, the less room it has to build the waves. So, the idea is that by the time we get there, they should be smaller. And the axis of the Gulf Stream is near Florida, 15 miles out, and it’s far from Bimini, where we decided to go first, because it’s closest. Well, anyway, that all sounds good on paper.
We get out there, and the seas grow. Not only that, but the wind grows. East wind. (the Gulf Stream runs north-northeast). So east isn’t so good, but at least it’s not the north, right? Well it didn’t start out that way. It shifted to the north right away. First 5 knots. As predicted. Then ten knots. The outside estimate of the prediction.
Oh, more background: I was going to put the bolt through our keel before we left. It swings up toward the boat so you don’t ground in shallow water. After we got stuck (4:00) James, the guy driving the other boat headed out. I thought, no biggie. I won’t put the bolt through the keel. Something that’s a precaution to make the boat self righting in case of a capsize, but otherwise better to leave out, in case you hit bottom it can swing back. Still with me? Good.
Okay, so I start to see bigger and bigger seas, and as a precaution, I decide “I’ll go put that bolt in now. We’re in plenty deep water, we’re more likely to capsize than run aground now.” So I take the bolt out of it’s seat, where it has the role of keeping water out of the boat, basically at the waterline. I lower the keel so the holes line up, and go to replace it.
But it doesn’t go.
It won’t fit. The holes won’t line up, because of the sideways push on the keel from the wind. So now it’s half in, half out.
It’s stuck.
And every time we hit a wave, water shoots through both sides of the holes into the boat. I fought with it, and fought with it, and really broke a sweat (I rarely sweat), and got it out. Put the keel back in swing mode, replaced the bolt, and locked it in place, and the water out. So that worked out.
Things were cool for several hours. It was beautiful. Gorgeous clouds, sunrise, (we got pictures), got a rainstorm for five minutes and a huge rainbow (no pictures), saw flying fish, and the bluest water ever. Like a mile deep, crystal clear. Pretty cool.
Eventually, things got bad. Winds picked up, now in addition to the big waves from the north we were crossing at an angle, which was fairly comfortable, sails up and motor on, we got 20mph winds from the east, on the nose, so motor only, and the boat is less stable. They grew. They got big. The period between the waves shrank. That means the wave shapes get steeper. A lot steeper. As we got closer, it got crazier, and crazier, and weirder and freakier.
We made it, obviously. But here’s some gory details to try to convey the size of the load in my pants by the time we got done:
Remember that part in the Perfect Storm when Marky Mark is on deck wrestling with some line on the bow as the rest of the Funky Bunch wrangle the boat around and there’s like sheets of water landing across everybody? It was kinda like that. Wet. Salty.
So wet, that even though the cabin was locked tight, the whole inside was drenched. So wet, our clothes were soaked under our doubled raingear (bibs, jacket with hood).
So salty that I just took a shower, and there was little cubes of salt on either side of my eyes, and in my eyelashes, crystallized- AFTER I got out of the shower. And I’m a thorough showerer. (showerist? Anyway…)
So wavy, that at times our boat would launch off of a wave, and I could feel air under the rudder (which is in the back, you landlubber). When the waves stacked up, coming from all different directions, and they’re 8-10 feet tall, and all in a bunch (gaggle? Herd? Bevy? Bushel?) they looked like a mountain range on a video game. Spiky. Hard to pour gas into a fuel tank in that shit, believe me.
James said he could see our keel (the fin under the boat) in the air off of the big waves. Some were breaking across our bow, all the way up to the MAST. Our boat is 25 feet long. That’s some big waves.
So we made it. We’re sitting on a wet bed, in dry clothes, in Bimini, and it’s beautiful. The water was the color of a blue slurpee (slushee) but brighter, when we got here 12 hours or so later.
Oh, and the last mile or so, the engine made some really funny noises, so we’re lucky we got here when we did. And not Ha Ha funny, like when I step on a rake and it hits me in my giant oversized novelty clown nose. But like a grating, and a crazy POP sound. Oh well, now we have something to do tomorrow.
By the time it was over, I was using both the tiller AND the motor to steer in unison. It was that hard to navigate. Oh yeah, and the tiller handle on the motor came off while we were in the middle of it. I had to screw the pieces back together while Ruth steered and the Funky Bunch threw Marky Mark lifelines in my mind. Ruth did so MUCH, besides steer (which she did A LOT, in addition to all of the other stuff she did, which was basically everything else, like weigh anchor, pour gas, talk on the VHF radio when needed, read charts, etc. etc. I married a total BADASS. She even made us sandwiches. Now she’s next to me in our wet bed, with the rigging shuddering in the wind, the waves lapping, me tapping, and she’s reading about how to catch a marlin in the Gulf.
James rocked too. He knows his shit, and it’s a reassurance to sail along side someone who knows what’s up so much, reads the maps right, gives us fuel injection cleaner when the engine was racing in idle, and even bought us conch fritters for dinner when we got here. Great guy, even if he did sail on autopilot most of the way, the bastard.
I have boxed 10 rounds, I have crashed cars, I have jumped out of an airplane, and nothing, I don’t think was as intense as this.
WOW. I’m beat. I’m going to BED.
WOW.
I repeat: WOW.
Ruth's 1st day in the BIM
wa wa WEE wa!! Respek! I is here in Bimini wit ma main man JacK. And we is right now sittin here by the docks of the bay at da Blue Water Marina!
Today we tidied up the boat a little more, and hung up and layed out everything that got drenched during the big trip over (quite a number of items). We walked around the island a bit, mostly the central part. I think it is about 8 miles long, but it is less than a quarter mile to walk across! After James treated us to lunch at Capt' Bob's Restuarant, Jack and I walked down the one main road on the island (imagine strolling down an alley). We hit the beach on the other side of the island...the water is SO clear! It is the most beautiful light blue/aqua color that is so amazing it's hard to describe! Imagine a Blue-Raz slushie from 7-11...(haha ok, maybe not so hard to describe...)
The islanders ride around in golf carts (or should I say GULF carts, haha) and bikes. We ran into a lot of people on foot too. Almost everyone calls out a "hello" or a "good afternoon" to you. Walking around felt like we were strolling through someone else's neighborhood, which, of course, we WERE....but what I mean is the area wasn't very touristy and it felt slightly awkward to be exploring such a small town, almost like we were invading the native's space. The island has a lot more trash and litter on it then I would have imagined, and a great number of homes and buildings are boarded up or closed down. Besides this, it is beautiful in that every tree, plant, and flower is in bloom. The sun is always shining and the sky is very blue. There are conch shells EVeRyWhERe - on the beach, scattered around the island, and even engrained in the gravel and pavement.
On our walk, we tried the wonderful Bimini bread! It was VERY delicious!!! We got their sweet potato bread, and seriously: food of the gods. Almost melts in your mouth! Mmmm...sweet potato bread....
Everytime I get on or off the boat I see small jelly fish in the water! They are purple-rimmed and transluscent. They don't have tentacles, at least ones long enough that you can see. They pump their way through the water. Pretty! Yay!
I also saw a small, flourescent yellow/black striped fish and a couple of small exotic fish with spots and flourescent blue tails. Oh, and GET THIS: a few minutes ago Jack pointed out to the water and called our attention to this big ray leaping out of the water! It was BIG! It flopped high into the air twice! James commented it was either chasing after something or something was chasing after IT. Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Earlier today Jack bought a red snapper off of a fisherman. Talked him down from $30 to 25. It is big!!! We are going to thaw it over night and gut it tomorrow! Coolness.
It seems we will be sticking around this harbor, at least this area, for a couple more days. There is a front moving in Friday, which means big winds. We may find shelter on some other part of the island, who knows?
I can't wait to go back to the beach! On our way in yesterday,we spotted an old shipwreck that had washed up onto the beach. It was old and rusted and looked like a lot of fun to explore! Right across the street, on the other side of the island, looked like a good place to snorkel.
Woah, James just said on his way to his boat he saw an 8 ft shark and a baby shark in the water! Sweeeeet.
Love you all. Love Jack. Love ocean, sun, birds, and fish. Love survivin' a rowdy gulf stream trip to north Bimini!!!
Today we tidied up the boat a little more, and hung up and layed out everything that got drenched during the big trip over (quite a number of items). We walked around the island a bit, mostly the central part. I think it is about 8 miles long, but it is less than a quarter mile to walk across! After James treated us to lunch at Capt' Bob's Restuarant, Jack and I walked down the one main road on the island (imagine strolling down an alley). We hit the beach on the other side of the island...the water is SO clear! It is the most beautiful light blue/aqua color that is so amazing it's hard to describe! Imagine a Blue-Raz slushie from 7-11...(haha ok, maybe not so hard to describe...)
The islanders ride around in golf carts (or should I say GULF carts, haha) and bikes. We ran into a lot of people on foot too. Almost everyone calls out a "hello" or a "good afternoon" to you. Walking around felt like we were strolling through someone else's neighborhood, which, of course, we WERE....but what I mean is the area wasn't very touristy and it felt slightly awkward to be exploring such a small town, almost like we were invading the native's space. The island has a lot more trash and litter on it then I would have imagined, and a great number of homes and buildings are boarded up or closed down. Besides this, it is beautiful in that every tree, plant, and flower is in bloom. The sun is always shining and the sky is very blue. There are conch shells EVeRyWhERe - on the beach, scattered around the island, and even engrained in the gravel and pavement.
On our walk, we tried the wonderful Bimini bread! It was VERY delicious!!! We got their sweet potato bread, and seriously: food of the gods. Almost melts in your mouth! Mmmm...sweet potato bread....
Everytime I get on or off the boat I see small jelly fish in the water! They are purple-rimmed and transluscent. They don't have tentacles, at least ones long enough that you can see. They pump their way through the water. Pretty! Yay!
I also saw a small, flourescent yellow/black striped fish and a couple of small exotic fish with spots and flourescent blue tails. Oh, and GET THIS: a few minutes ago Jack pointed out to the water and called our attention to this big ray leaping out of the water! It was BIG! It flopped high into the air twice! James commented it was either chasing after something or something was chasing after IT. Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Earlier today Jack bought a red snapper off of a fisherman. Talked him down from $30 to 25. It is big!!! We are going to thaw it over night and gut it tomorrow! Coolness.
It seems we will be sticking around this harbor, at least this area, for a couple more days. There is a front moving in Friday, which means big winds. We may find shelter on some other part of the island, who knows?
I can't wait to go back to the beach! On our way in yesterday,we spotted an old shipwreck that had washed up onto the beach. It was old and rusted and looked like a lot of fun to explore! Right across the street, on the other side of the island, looked like a good place to snorkel.
Woah, James just said on his way to his boat he saw an 8 ft shark and a baby shark in the water! Sweeeeet.
Love you all. Love Jack. Love ocean, sun, birds, and fish. Love survivin' a rowdy gulf stream trip to north Bimini!!!
Missed post 10-26
10-26-07 12am?
(This post was written 10-26, not uploaded because there's no internet connection, or I'm a slacker. Sue me.)
Made it here. Can't find a place to launch because of a huge boatshow, let alone dock. We are unwelcome EVERYwhere. Drove to Miami. Time for a drink. What do the locals have? Clamato flavored Budweiser. No lie. Not bad though. They also sell the champagne of beers, Miller High Life. In quarts. Ruth gets a Sparks, of course, and we go to the marina we think will be most likely to accept us tomorrow. Ruth tastes her first saltwater, then kisses me and says the Clamato Budweiser is saltier. "Not bad though." We befriend the guy at the baitshop, Al, and Cooper the head of security. They allow us to camp in the lot of the marina against the rules. and talk to us of manatees. Ruth sees an egret. The radio is in spanish, and the rain is incessant. This Clamato beer is delicious. No, I did not make that up.
(This post was written 10-26, not uploaded because there's no internet connection, or I'm a slacker. Sue me.)
Made it here. Can't find a place to launch because of a huge boatshow, let alone dock. We are unwelcome EVERYwhere. Drove to Miami. Time for a drink. What do the locals have? Clamato flavored Budweiser. No lie. Not bad though. They also sell the champagne of beers, Miller High Life. In quarts. Ruth gets a Sparks, of course, and we go to the marina we think will be most likely to accept us tomorrow. Ruth tastes her first saltwater, then kisses me and says the Clamato Budweiser is saltier. "Not bad though." We befriend the guy at the baitshop, Al, and Cooper the head of security. They allow us to camp in the lot of the marina against the rules. and talk to us of manatees. Ruth sees an egret. The radio is in spanish, and the rain is incessant. This Clamato beer is delicious. No, I did not make that up.
WAITING (NOVEMBER 2-11)
Noverendingber 2-11
In case I haven't mentioned it, I'm doing the large type because there's three people viewing who have bad eyes. So deal with it, if you want to read our stuff (and I would never assume you would, I'm just saying) Waiting to cross. North winds. First day we turned into the weather, there was 20 foot breaking waves (not the ones you ride over, the ones that roll over you as your boat rolls underneath filling with water... yeah, those) because of a north wind, so we kept forgoing the possibility. Because once you commit... you're in. Whether in the clear, in the drink, or whatevs, you're in. So we wait. It's beautiful, but it's difficult to live on almost no money, hoarding every bit of juice the solar panels soak up. We're waiting, and trying not to spend money, but the fact that there's always something you don't have, safetywise, comfortwise, or however, it keeps tempting your money out of your pocket. We're about broke, and even WATER costs money. Without salt in it, anyway. So we wait.
In case I haven't mentioned it, I'm doing the large type because there's three people viewing who have bad eyes. So deal with it, if you want to read our stuff (and I would never assume you would, I'm just saying) Waiting to cross. North winds. First day we turned into the weather, there was 20 foot breaking waves (not the ones you ride over, the ones that roll over you as your boat rolls underneath filling with water... yeah, those) because of a north wind, so we kept forgoing the possibility. Because once you commit... you're in. Whether in the clear, in the drink, or whatevs, you're in. So we wait. It's beautiful, but it's difficult to live on almost no money, hoarding every bit of juice the solar panels soak up. We're waiting, and trying not to spend money, but the fact that there's always something you don't have, safetywise, comfortwise, or however, it keeps tempting your money out of your pocket. We're about broke, and even WATER costs money. Without salt in it, anyway. So we wait.
Old Bloggy blog I just updated
CAPTAIN'S LOG: STARDATE NOVEMBER 2, 2007
So much has happened in a few days. We drove a couple thousand miles. At 45 miles per hour pulling the boat. Slept in the truck for the week it took. Or whatever. I don't even remember if I already wrote this. It's all a blur. Some of the highlights though... Our tire debacle. Okay, I remember writing some of this already. After our series of flats and blowouts, we had a couple of guys sell us a new tire, put it on, replace the spare, balance the tire (which they apparently forgot), all for... $20. Normally those truck tires are like $150. Anyway, cheap things, caveat emptor,etc.They wound the spare back up under the truck with an impact wrench.Did I already mention this? Anyway, so we got almost to New Orleans to drop the truck off, and I see something fly across my rearview, and feel a bump. I pull over, check all the wheels, which are fine, and then it occurs to me to check the spare. Not there. Apprarently, the geniuses (genii? What's the plural? Genies?) who put the spare on with the torque wrench broke it, and it flew off, thus the bump I felt, and the object hurtling through the air I saw in my periphery. Great.
Okay, I find it, not far back. Traffic is thick, and very fast. I'm waiting for an opening as cars swerve around it. Each apparently as startled as the last. Just as I see an opening coming, FINALLY, the last car of the pack clears it, but has steered so hard, so fast, they 180 and crash into the cement median. Screeching tires. Sparks. Etc. I tell Ruth to check and make sure they're okay, and I'm going to run get this thing before someone else has a problem.
Again, just as an opening appears, the last one in the herd hits it. Pieces of broken wheel are flying around, the car gets two blowouts, and skids to the side. It's a cop.
Long story short, the cop didn't even want our names, our help, a ride, or anything. The other people were okay. I got the wheel out of the road, which, of course, was trashed.
Then we went on to Benjamin's house where we stayed for a few days, while we built a doghouse for the dogs and fenced the yard, (we're leaving our dogs there with our tenants while we're gone)
So much has happened in a few days. We drove a couple thousand miles. At 45 miles per hour pulling the boat. Slept in the truck for the week it took. Or whatever. I don't even remember if I already wrote this. It's all a blur. Some of the highlights though... Our tire debacle. Okay, I remember writing some of this already. After our series of flats and blowouts, we had a couple of guys sell us a new tire, put it on, replace the spare, balance the tire (which they apparently forgot), all for... $20. Normally those truck tires are like $150. Anyway, cheap things, caveat emptor,etc.They wound the spare back up under the truck with an impact wrench.Did I already mention this? Anyway, so we got almost to New Orleans to drop the truck off, and I see something fly across my rearview, and feel a bump. I pull over, check all the wheels, which are fine, and then it occurs to me to check the spare. Not there. Apprarently, the geniuses (genii? What's the plural? Genies?) who put the spare on with the torque wrench broke it, and it flew off, thus the bump I felt, and the object hurtling through the air I saw in my periphery. Great.
Okay, I find it, not far back. Traffic is thick, and very fast. I'm waiting for an opening as cars swerve around it. Each apparently as startled as the last. Just as I see an opening coming, FINALLY, the last car of the pack clears it, but has steered so hard, so fast, they 180 and crash into the cement median. Screeching tires. Sparks. Etc. I tell Ruth to check and make sure they're okay, and I'm going to run get this thing before someone else has a problem.
Again, just as an opening appears, the last one in the herd hits it. Pieces of broken wheel are flying around, the car gets two blowouts, and skids to the side. It's a cop.
Long story short, the cop didn't even want our names, our help, a ride, or anything. The other people were okay. I got the wheel out of the road, which, of course, was trashed.
Then we went on to Benjamin's house where we stayed for a few days, while we built a doghouse for the dogs and fenced the yard, (we're leaving our dogs there with our tenants while we're gone)
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