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WALTER BONAME, RIP. WISHING TON A SPEEDY AND FULL RECOVERY.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Some cool people we met



Derek and Dan, who gave us our water bladder



Fellow Popeye fan. This was just a dude I met on the street.



Gavin and Michelle's catamaran. They run a dive tour business off of this thing.



Ruth and our friend Patti. She's super cool. The one that drove us all over, remember?



This a closeup of the hat our friend Reg was wearing. What a silly, silly man.

Hey, return the favor.



A Knowles grave. Everyone here is either a Knowles, Rolle, Harding, Fox, or a few others. And they're all intermarried, and everyone on all of these islands is a first, second, third, or whatever cousin practically. It's crazy.



This graffiti reminded me of the Coop.



Elvis's rental. This is how they pay to keep the lights on at Graceland.



Besides shops like this, they have shops all around that say things like "Produce & Notions." They sell notions all around here. I have no idea what that means. Bahamians have a different way of speaking, thinking, and pretty much anything else.



Like this one, for instance. Any idea what the hell this is supposed to mean? Someone took a lot of time with this. It was posted in a phone booth that is no longer in service. Head scratching is a major pasttime down here for us.



Anyway, here's a couple more for you. Maybe you could return the favor. Send us a picture of some snow, or someone frozen solid in a block of ice, or something. Maybe the first robin of spring covered in frost. Come on, ante up. We miss that stuff. Seriously.

SO, the latest




All that's left of this shipwreck...



...except this toilet, which is perfectly intact. We're going to try to make a trip up there on the way back, and we can use it in our next project.




Bridge at high tide over the rushing current into the backside of Warderick Wells.



Hurricane damaged hotel, North Bim.



Nature taking over man, as it always will, happily.


Okay, we're still here. Yeah, I know. Lazy. Unmotivated. Do nothing, dragass, bums. Well, be all you can be, as they say. To be or not to be. So now, we just ARE. Being, that is. Not doing much. Sitting around the marina, making music, hanging out with Hugh, Chris, and now Bob and Pat. We're going to get together tonight and watch the Democratic debate (did I just capitalize that? Whoops.) between our man and that thing.

That should be a good time. I'm making chili. In the meantime, we're over at the hotel, which I guess we are entitled to use because we're staying in the marina. They have a gym, but like all things in the Bahamas, it is open at odd times, and the hours aren't posted. So a few miles over here, only to find out that it's not open for four hours (3:30), so we're sitting in the bar typing, and maybe eating a little chicken.

So, that's all our news. Sure would be nice if we heard what's going on with all of you guys. Oh well, I guess that's not to be. Well, the Murawskis give us updates, anyway. But those Livingstones, they're such mysterious people. And can't write emails. All with these fancy college educations, usin' high falutin' words, work on computers all day, and all that highclass chit chat, and still can't drop an ol' boy a line so he can hear how his pore ol' mother and pore ol' father, sisters and brothers are doin.' Oh well. At least you guys know how we are. At least you all have that peace of mind. But that's fine. As long as you guys are comfortable, that's cool. Because for us, it's only about a couple miles walk to get online to post this for you guys, which we do at every opportunity, but I'm sure it's much, much further for you. So ya know, don't trouble yourselves.

If you didn't realize, I was being a bit sarcastic. For real, someone write an email now and again, and tell me (JL) how my family is doing. You're killing me over here, with that silence business. Miss you all.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008



The local folk and whatnot. Actually, these people live in the Pirate Museum. It was very cool. I'm thinking about moving in there mahself.



This is the Sepona. WWII battleship from Japan made of cement. And yet it sunk. If you can't depend on floating cement, what can you depend on? Next thing we're back with anarchy. Beasts of burden. And whatnot.



These damned things are everywhere.



This here's a sunken plane. Did I mention that these people are horrible drivers?



What happens when you fly your plane on the left. Horrible, horrible drivers. But FAST! Hot damn! They'll get you there in a hurry, and no pesky seatbelts! Take that Ralph Nader, you slow right driving bastard!


Sand dollar



Sand dollar's poopchute



Some crap we saw



This is a tree that has discovered the secret of the universe. If only I could speak "tree."



Ruth about to sit on the big termite chair.

Images Shimages



Nurse sharks, plying their trade. Note the bedside manner.



These are pink clouds, as if it needs explaining.



Teatable rock. These rocks actually float.







Just kidding. They're made of rock. They're all over too, due to the water eroding the natural rock formations and whatnot.



Notice that this is the same view as in the guidebook. Yup, we were really there. And it looked better in person.




This is a "fan of the sea."

feast your eyes, young mister/missy



Hideous sunset #223. Basically, these are every night. I'm sure it's the same wherever there's ocean, but it's something about the water. New Orleans had nice ones, but these are NICE. So nice it's scary.



Entrance to Great Harbor. More beautiful schuff.



Crazy tree growing out of the rock. This rock is everywhere, and so is this tree. This is really common, but never stops being cool.



His glorious creation. A "sunset."



His stingy creation. A "jellied fish."


That was someone's tattoo we saw. She didn't really do that.



Ruth doing... what else? Running things.



Ruth doing what she does first thing in the morning, and last thing at night: making the sunset look ugly.



Ruth's downhome. By the way, we're going to have a celebratory pigroast when we get home. First of all, who's down? Who'll travel? Who insists that we do it near them? Who'll share their yard? Who needs a hug? We thought of Torch Lake, but it might be far for some. So, we're fishing for input. Let us know.

more pix for you snowbirds



Mohawk with bedhead=not hired for that big office job I've had my eye on



Jack and his ol' lady



Ruth and the ol' ball and chain



Jack's first, and best mate. Belive that.



Ruth and pals, Bimini.

February 18, 2008, All Hog's Day



Our friend Chris who showed up unexpectedly



Jason's pet goat



Private Drive, my friend.




Notice the "open" sign. Notice also that there's no roof. Welcome to the Bahamas, mon.




This Walter's fishing boat, "Promocean." Get it?


MONDAY, FEBRUARY 18, TWO DOUBLE AUGHT EIGHT
JL talking. We’re back in Stella Maris. We jetted north to go around Long Island and across the open water the 23 clicks to Rum Cay, but the wind started howling during the night we camped out up at the point. 15-20 knots, which is basically when the air makes a whistling sound running over the telephone wires, or in our case, the rigging. Not long after that, the seas build quickly over a long fetch like it is from Rum to here, and they’d be up to 8 feet within a couple of hours. So, we turned around, and jetted back here. Luckily, we avoided the place we grounded out on the way there, where we got stuck in some really interesting terrain. The flats around Dove Cay have to be gone AROUND, and we tried to cut through them, since our little boat is good like that. Well, it didn’t quite work out, and after grounding out, the current was so swift, it made the boat spin to the side, dragging us sideways, scraping bottom as we went. Imagine the bottom of the boat scraping and going sideways, and as it does, it makes the boat lean hard toward downstream, and allowing it to go into water that is even shallower than the boat floats at. So we got stuck pretty well, and had to get out and wade through some coral beds to go way the hell up stream, drop the anchor and winch that sucker straight into the current again, and then rock it back and forth, winch it some more, etc. etc. It’s all good though.
We made it out, and came back here, thinking maybe we could use some help on the alternator still, which I’m starting to think we don’t, but anyway… There’s an ice cream store yet unexplored, it’s cheap here, there’s free internet up at the hotel a few miles away, Chris and Hugh are here, they fill dive tanks, have a dive shop, etc. etc.
Oh, one other thing. The only person in this marina that hadn’t already given us a ride somewhere or offered to walked up and offered as soon as we got in. Man, people here are nice.
Two days ago for breakfast, we had a big bowl of plantains, which are awesome anyway, but great with ketchup too. For lunch Ruth made a wicked bean dip thing, which was refried beans, black beans, salsa, corn, fritos, and that was it. It was amazing. Then yesterday, we had cornflakes for breakfast while we played dominoes (and “Domino” by Van Morrison came on as we started playing-weird), then we had the fish I speared for lunch, with this really good rice Norman was going to toss, which Ruth added peppers and onions to. For dinner we had the last of the lobster tails (oh wait, Ruth just told me there’s more), pumpkin, plantains, stringbeans, broccoli and mushrooms, and leftover pot roast meat.
I can’t wait till breakfast today.
Another highlight of yesterday was my completion of the first piece I made on my (Tom’s really) computer. If anybody wants to hear it, I’ll email it to you. It’s the first thing I’ve ever recorded or created using a computer, unlike all of my history- doing stuff the old fashioned way, beating on a guitar or whatever. I really dig it, but after listening to it last night, I realized that it’s a huge ripoff of a tune David made like fifteen years ago and put out on a compilation called Milk for Pussy. Oh well. It’s cool anyway.

Okay people. No more time for chitter chatter. Gotta get moving here. I have a big day ahead of me working on the boat, playing ping pong, making some music, and maybe getting online later.

Love you all,
your buddy Jack

Saturday, February 16, 2008

February 16, I said!

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2008
Well, Ruth and I left Stella Maris this evening. It was chill there, in the marina. $25 a day ($1 a foot- the guidebooks says $.75, but they don’t seem to ever be right on this point), plus $7 a day electricity, that they didn’t seem to want to bother to charge for. Water was free, so I washed all my shirts and underwear, which was a real luxury. We filled our tanks too, but the water didn’t really start coming out as a dark, rusty color until I was doing laundry, so we think what we got was pretty good. It’s R/O water (reverse osmosis created water- fresh water from salt, I think) mixed with rain water from a cistern. Anyway, it was pretty good. It ws nice having the extra dough in our pockets from waxing Chris’s boat last week. Our friend Brian made some extra money “scrubbing some guy’s bottom,” but that didn’t sound like a very manly undertaking, so I’d just as soon be waxing the Selene.
Good people around there too, including this cat Norman who was a big Chomsky fan, and so we had a lot to talk about. Chris was next door, but we didn’t see him too much, he had a lady friend coming in tonight (hubba hubba), so good for him. This other cat Hugh was really nice, captain of a big fishing boat, and he had us and Chris over for dinner the first night we were there, and made potroast and potatoes, which rocked. Then the next night, we brought over lobster tails, and me him and Norman had a nice dinner, and I had three tails, plus two I had for breakfast that day. Tough life.
We filled the gas tanks and water getting ready to head outta here to cross to Rum Cay, which is about 23 miles off of Long Island, plus four more to the anchorage. After that, it will be to Concepcion, Cat Island, then Eleuthra, home of the pink sand beaches. These islands all sound pretty spectacular, so we figure it’s worth the trip across the water 15-20 miles apiece to get to ‘em.
They also had air tank filling at Stella Maris, so I scuba’d around the marina to use up the leftover air in the tank before we fiilled up. While out, I didn’t see the hugeass barracuda (3-4 feet) that was stalking the boat earlier, but just a small one while I was stalking a few jacks under some half sinking fishing boats that were rafted up in the corner. I shot one for dinner with the spear, and got out of the water a.s.a.p with that flopping, bleeding dying fish, which is the best thing to bring a barracuda around posthaste.
We tossed the rest of the red snapper we caught in G-town, because it was starting to stink. Who am I kidding-starting? That thing reeked. The marina had showers too, which was nice, if only cold water, and before that I took a dip in their pool- salt water- I should have guessed. The place was run by Germans from Argentina who’d been here 40 years. According to Hugh, they were fled ex-Nazis, so I figure they weren’t just foot soldiers if they had to get out of Dodge after WWII. Anyway, they seemed pretty cool, and decidedly unNazi-esque.
Speaking of nice people, Hugh and Norman and Chris, all three either hauled us around in their cars at various times or offered to, in Norman’s case, barely after exchanging names. He then brought us conch salad, and the next day, a bag of fruit, tangelos, pears, apples and suchlike. Cool guy. Must be all the Chomsky he’s reading.
On another note, I read something interesting in the Marine Medicine guide when I was trying to look up what Ruth might have from the symptoms she had the other day. Numbness of the lips, fingers, nausea, headache, etc. sounded just like Ciguatera, but she seems fine now, and we haven’t eaten anything that could give it to her. Anyway, she seems to be really well, and her ribs aren’t hurting her like they were. We still wonder if she didn’t crack a couple when she fell in Nassau, but it’s really immaterial, since they can’t do anything about it anyway. Oh, but anyway, where I was going with this was that I read in the Marine Medicine book that antihistamines make you sensitive to sunlight. This is something that none of these damned doctors have seemed aware of yet, nor any of the websites I’ve looked at. And as I think of it, it seems there’s a pretty strong correlation between me getting sun and having itchy nights/days. So, I spent the last couple of days with my shirt on for a change, and didn’t take any antihistamines at all today, and I’m relatively itchless. Could it be? Well, it’s an improvement anyway over how I was feeling. Pressure urticaria my butt! I’m allergic to antihistamines. That occurred to me over the summer, but almost as a joke. I’m going to try to stop taking them for a while and see how I do. I hadn’t had any alcohol, wheat, or preservatives in almost two weeks, and that seemed to make no difference. So last night I had four beers, and not an itch in the bunch. That was pretty chill. It was kind of a drag having people toasting right and left, and offering to buy each other a beer, and owing you a beer, and on and on and having to pick… water. I’m actually joking, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed water so much as I have on this trip. After much messing around trying to put an electric water pump on the boat, I finally ended up putting in a different hand pump tap, so now we have one inside and out. Now drinking water is a treat!
Wow, I sure do miss talking to my folks. Anybody around there that could aid them in getting an email out someday? In Phyllis’s case, maybe she could even jot a note down and if someone visits they can type it out and send it for her. It kind of sucks not being in touch, and if anyone is around that could help out with that, they and I would both be grateful.
Speaking of staying in touch, make sure you all keep track of what blogs from the archives you’ve seen, because I’ve noticed it only seems to show the most recent one, or a couple, maybe. Like yesterday, I put up a ton of pictures and three blogs, and most of that stuff went straight into the archives, and you didn’t really see it as “new” stuff on the screen, so to the casual observer, it only looked like there was a few new photos up, but really there were at least 25, plus three long entries.
Well, I think I’ll wrap it up. Since tomorrow we have to make tracks to Rum Cay. Hopefully they’re not out of rum when we get there. There’s also a wreck near here we might want to check out in the morning.
Oh, by the way, it should be some cool scenery coming up, we heard Rum and Concepcion are supposed to be beautiful, good shelling, fishing and maybe even lobstering. Cat Cay is supposed to be hooked up too, but Hugh said he saw a ton of sharks there when he was there. Like 30 in the water together, and not nurse sharks either. Black tips, white tips, etc. And a bunch that were 10 feet long or more. Oh, and if you think we had an interesting crossing of the Gulf Stream, you should have heard his tale: “calm” weather turned into 30 foot breaking seas, so bad he thought he was dead, and didn’t even think it was worth putting on his life jacket. The boat was forty or fifty feet, and some waves it went down it was going down nose first, almost vertically. The fridge ripped out of its bracket and fell on the cabinet on the other side of the kitchen, and left a big mark from the handle, basically falling straight across the room. Pretty intense shit! He was up on the flybridge (way at the top), and got tossed right over the steering wheel, across the console it’s on, and landed on the other side of the flybridge, and broke his arm in the process. And then made it over. That was from Fort Pierce to Westend. Starting a bit south of where we did, and going a little further north. Anyway, he’s a cool guy. He had a boat in Michigan for a while, one of five, and Hemingway had one of the others. It was made in 1928. He got it in 68, and had it for a few years, till it was in storage, and he came back to find it stripped. Every fitting, the portholes, everything.
Well, we hope you’re all well. Write an email sometime and tell us if you’re alive. We’re ya know… curious.
Later,
Jack

Thursday, February 14, 2008

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