RUTH'S CATCH UP BLOG, 3/25/2008

The Longest Game of Catch-Up Ever Played

You, the reader, may have read of these events via Jack's blogs. But
now it's MY turn to tell you how it REALLY happened……

TUESDAY 3/25

It's evening. Johnny and I are loungin' here at our new anchorage,
listening to Bluegrass, smokin' some green grass, and bloggin it up
the ass. I just posted to my desktop the picture my dad emailed me
titled "The Ultimate Peep Show"…you know, the one of the Peeps
marshmallow chicks checkin out the pink 'mellow bunnies at the strip
show. That picture is hilarious! (Thanks Dad!)
My parents recently called the Coast Guard because they had become
increasingly worried when they hadn't heard from us in two weeks.
Although their concern is very sweet and much appreciated, fortunately
we are fine and simply have had no access to the internet or phone for
awhile. Just so word is clear, we are very safe and doing very fine,
couldn't be happier! I'm sorry you were so worried and hope that
you'll remember that in most parts of the Bahamas, there is no access
to the internet. We have good access to food, water, fuel, land, and
shelter, but not always phone and internet. I love you all so much.
Please don't worry!

Now…………
It's ketchup time! Speaking of that, I had some on my cracked conch
earlier at The Blue Room, a restaurant where we enjoyed lunch earlier.
A few days ago I ordered a conch burger for lunch at Sammy's. It was
one of the most amazing burgers these savory buds have tasted! Right
now we are anchored at Governor's Harbor, the former capital of the
Bahamas. A few days ago we were anchored at Rock Sound, host of the
Homecoming Festival that took place this past weekend. But instead of
going backwards, I'll start from last week and work my way up. We have
had some remarkable adventures this month!

One of our last days at Hawk's Nest, the southern tip of Cat Island,
Jack and I took the boat to about 30 – 40 feet so that he could SCUBA
dive. The plan was that I would drive the boat around trailing Jack
behind me, holding onto the dinghy, masked face down, clutching the
spear and searching for a decent piece of coral or rock where a lot of
fish life may be lurking and smirking. When he found what he thought
looked like a promising thought, he would signal for me to slow and
then he would drop down. Meanwhile I would face the boat into the wind
and stay a close but safe distance away. We, of course, used the dive
flag. The first time Jack dropped down, I spun the boat quickly
around, my eyes leaving the flag for a mere second before realigning
my gaze on the spot where it was. It was gone. My eyes must have
nearly popped out of my head straining to see where it may have
fallen. The waves at the time were steep and rolling at about three to
four feet. My searching and straining eyes finally caught a glimpse of
the bright orange color floating barely on top of the water on its
side. The buoy had fallen down! With the wind and the waves, the
wavering orange spot was disappearing and reappearing. I began honking
the horn on the boat in hopes that Jack would hear it and come to the
surface. Finally the dreaded moment came where a wave covered the
sight of the flag, and suddenly I couldn't find it. My eyes swept the
water like a firefighter's hose thoroughly sprays an out of control
fire. Without the flag I would have no clue where Jack was, if he was
alright, if the current had swept him away… At the same time, it
would
be dangerous for me to drive too close to the spot where I thought he
might be underwater. I honked the horn continuously for over a minute
(which to my increasingly panicked self felt like an eternity) before
Jack emerged. He hadn't heard me honking but had realized on his own
that the flag had fallen under the water, because the line to which it
is attached didn't unravel fast enough as he descended.
Once we got that problem squared away, it was off to the races!
Usually Jack stayed under for about ten minutes. Sometimes he came
back up with nothing, sometimes with a handful of really nice shells.
He probably dipped under around seven times. His second to last drop
down was exciting. As I was waited, controlling the boat as the wind
and waves persistently tried to turn it, he emerged holding the spear
high over his head. Sliding back and forth on the spear was the slick
gray body of a big fish flopping to and fro with the beat of the
waves! I flew as quick as I could over to where he was, took the spear
and the fish out of the water, dropped its body in a bucket, and we
headed away from the spot in search of a new area. It's wise to move
to a new spot because sharks will track the smell of the fish blood.
After the final drop Jack came up yelling "Baracuda!" so again I
zipped over fast as I could to get Jack out of the water. Baracudas
are attracted to all things shiny, such as the spear or the shiny
metal on the scuba tank or B.C. vest.
The fish turned out to be a parrot fish, which was easy to label for
reasons I'm sure you can guess. It was incredible the resemblance of
the beak-like face of the fish and the colors that squiggled over and
encircled it! And boy, did it taste quite parrot-like! Haha, just
kidding. It was some real good fish though. Nothing like the
wholesome, pure white meat of a fresh fish!
The following day we decided to fish the drop-off before heading north
to New Bight. The drop-off is a point in the water where the dept
drops suddenly from around 90 to over 500 feet. This is where the
fishies like to play,, and we wanted in on the fun. During the hour
trip it took to get out there, Jack rigged up this incredible system
of lures. He hooked ten or so lures on an 80 lb test line, wrapped
them around a Pringles can, and after lowering the lures into the
water, attach the line to the downrigger which would pull it down 300
feet. Unfortunately we weren't out for an hour before the line began
to drag. Without the aid of the depth sounder, which had stopped
working, we had driven the boat into 90 feet of water. The weight of
the downrigger became caught deep under a rock and just as we realized
what was happening, the line snapped, taking the weight and all our
lures with it. Hahaha we are so amateur!!
After our misadventure we motor-sailed north, headed for New Bight. It
felt as though a front were coming in. The winds were strong and cold,
maybe 15 knots. The waves were increasingly kicking it up a notch. We
made it there in a few hours, heeling steadily with the reefed main
and the full jib and a low boost from the motor. We anchored right
around sunset, parking close to shore and endured a semi-rocky night.
In the distance I could just make out The Hermitage, the former
residence of the beloved Father Jerome. The explorer charts make a
real big deal out of this guy.
By morning the waves had increased still. The winds were about 15 from
the southwest. We dinghy'd onto shore to explore. Jack made a quick
phone call to his mom from a payphone off of shore with a phone card
we had purchased at Hawk's Nest. Not too far from where we were stood
the crumbling ruins of an old mansion. A typical mansion for the
islands would be a 50 x 50 two story house made of concrete. The
ruins were very interesting and we snapped a lot of shots like
crocodiles snapping at the raw chicken dangling from Steve-O's
underwear. The flowers and vegetation were lovely! Very picturesque.
Next door to the old mansion sat a smaller rundown building with a
floor completely buried by piles upon piles of old glass bottles. We
spent a bit of time bottle hunting for the most unique looking
antique. We plundered until we had a backpack full of precious loot!
Jack thought we should ask the people whose house sat in front of the
bottle ruins if it would be okay that we take the bottles. No one was
home so we asked about the homeowners at the Blue Bird Restaurant
across the street. The people there told us to knock back in about an
hour and a half, so we left our bag with them and headed toward The
Hermitage.
The walk was roughly a good mile uphill, and it was definitely worth
the trek. The building (built in 1630?) was in amazing shape because
of good upkeep. On our way up the steepest part of the climb were
stone monuments of the Stations of the Cross. The house was very
interesting, containing a secret passageway, small personal chapel,
and a small living room with a tiny hearth. It was very, very cozy.
Even I had to bend over to walk through the rooms and crouch to get
through the doorways!
On our way back from the Hermitage we passed a brush fire, its smoke
blinding us for a few hundred feet. We took off toward the restaurant
and sat around drinking Kalicks and playing Dominoes before splitting
a meal. We met the homeowners across the street, who said it was
perfectly fine if we wanted to take some of the old glass bottles. The
wind was steadily picking up, as were the waves, so we hopped back on
the boat and immediately took off north to Fernandez Bay, where there
would be better shelter from the wind. We motor-sailed with the jib
fully out. On the way Jack saw a shark fin slice in and out of the
water!
Arriving just before sunset, we anchored inside the mouth of a very
narrow creek. We dinghy'd into shore to check out the resort and see
what they had to offer internet-wise. We discovered the dinners were
$40 a pop – yikes. We had a drink while loading up our computers
only
to discover the internet connection was terribly slow and eventually
non-existent. While we were poking around, however, a man came up to
me and asked if we had gotten dinner here tonight. When I replied that
no, in fact, we hadn't, he invited Jack and I over to him and his
wife's rental cottage for dinner. It was their last night there and
they needed to clear out their fridge and had no one to eat with. It
turns out his wife sent him over to find us; we had said hello to her
on the beach earlier and had a quick chat. We were delighted to be fed
and, although by the time we made it over to their place they had
already eaten, they reheated the food without question and served us a
five course thanksgiving-like meal! It turns out they are from
Kalamazoo and still live in the area! We had a lot to talk about that
evening. They were a very nice couple. I forget their names, but I'm
sure Jack has written them down! They showed us around the resort
cottages, which were very interesting and decorated with relics from
old shipwrecks! Their neighbors, who had already gone, left behind a
fridge full of food which they insisted we take with us back on the
boat! They gave us milk, eggs, bread, beer, celery, cheese coffee,
sugar, pancake mix, and a bunch of other random items!
During the night, while we were sleeping, the current swung the boat
around and beached us as the tide shrank. While I slept Jack spent two
hours jumping in and out of the water, setting anchors so that he
could pull us back into the deeper water. When I awoke to find what
was going on, I put on my rain gear and got out to help. I cranked in
the lines using winches while Jack worked on removing tension from the
lines in the water and continuously resetting the three anchors. Two
hours later we had gotten ourselves free and were floating in deep
enough water to relax for the night. We set three anchors (two off
each sides of the stern, one off the bow) so that the situation
wouldn't happen again.
The remainder of our days at Fernandez Bay were somewhat ho-hum. The
cold front was passing and the wind had clocked to the northeast so we
left that awful shallow creek and tucked into the northeast corner of
the Bay. This new anchorage was closer to the resort. We killed time
during the rain reading and going into the resort to use the internet
(which had revived itself since that one night). We even spent twelve
dollars on a hamburger (each!) just so we could sit and post blogs,
email our fam, and the like. The burger, by the way, was a puny hunk
of balled up beef probably worth three bucks. As we were leaving the
resort to settle in the boat for the night, we met a couple named
Dennis and Doris who were on the boat "Magic" anchored close to us. I
forgot to mention our jib had acquired a small tear near the top of
the seam (oh I mean, near the head of the luff) on our way from Hawk's
Nest to New Bight. Dennis offered to provide us with a hunk of sail
cloth to fix it. Everyone is so extremely nice, laid-back, and giving!
Everyone here – Bahamians or boaters – treat us like family,
sometimes
even better!

WED, 3/12

The following morning Dennis dropped off the sail cloth, Jack hooked
up a system of table cloths to catch the rain water, and I biked three
and a half miles to the grocery store, pedaling back with the dry bag
heavy and STUFFED with goods. We planned to move and anchor four miles
north to where a road on the protected side led to the west side
(ocean side) where there was an abundance of reefs. The road was near
a restaurant called the Fish Fry and we thought it'd be nice to catch
a bite there after Jack snorkeled the reefs for lobster (I still
wasn't going into the water at this point because of my burns). During
the four mile trip I drove slowly over roughly 15 feet of water
passing over coral heads while Jack, clinging to the dinghy with his
snorkel gear and spear,, scanned the bottom for life. This is how he
found the Parrott Fish. We had finally figured out a good system! The
first drop down was unsuccessful, but the second time Jack descended
over a huge chunk of rock and speared a good sized fish! The thing is,
old fish-face swam himself into a crevasse of the rock and fit himself
snuggly inside, so that even though it was speared, Jack could not
pull him out! Jack free-dove at least 15 times in 13 feet of water to
wrestle with this fish! It got to the point where I just threw out the
anchor close by so that if by some chance sharks came Jack could
quickly get out. At last, Jack emerged with the fish!! At first I
thought he had actually speared a shark because the fish had a thick,
sharp dorsal fin sticking up high. As he brought it closer to the
boat, however, the "fin" (which turns out is a bone) lowered itself
down until it was almost tucked away inside the fish. It was
brilliant! I was very excited for Jack and his valiant effort and took
many pictures.
We arrived at our anchorage, and found that Dennis and Doris had the
same idea and were planning on checking out the Fish Fry themselves.
When they stopped by on their dinghy to say hello, we invited them
over for our own little fish fry. We all agreed that we would cook
out and hang out on their boat later on (theirs was, of course a
bigger boat). They both recognized the fish Jack speared as an Ocean
Trigger Fish. It was a bizarre fish! Its dorsal and underbelly fins
were actually bone that it was able to tuck in or stick out at will.
This was how it was able to trap itself inside the rock! I offered to
gut and scale the fish, only to discover it had no scales! Its skin
had a sandpaper-like texture and was as tough as sheet metal! It was a
difficult task (imagine trying to cut through sheet metal with a
fillet knife!) I couldn't even cut off the fins because of the
thickness of the bone. I finally managed to slice through half of the
fish, aiming for a nice thick fillet, but was having a bit of a
struggle butchering through the other half when Jack offered to help.
It took one of us to hold the fish, the other to saw away at it. In
the end we cropped out two HUGE fillets! Just enough for four people
to stuff themselves silly!
We took a break to head into land and hiked about a two-mile trail
that led us to the west side. The ocean as a whole was calm, but the
many reefs along the bottom caused long, lines of breakers stretching
out along almost the entire three-mile beach and continuing at least a
mile out. Jack took a thoughtful gaze into the waves and boldly
proceeded to gear up into his snorkel outfit. I kept in eye on him as
he swam and dove around in and out of waves with the spear. He didn't
have any luck, and commented afterwards that the open ocean, breaking
waves, and thought of dangerous fish life had made the expedition an
intimidating one. During our walk back, the sun began to set, filling
the sky with the most brilliant and breath-taking colors. Orange had
as sharp and bright a glow as fire! The intimate swirls of pink and
purple clouds intermingling with the baby blue of the sky kept us
entertained the whole walk back. Midway we scavenged an abandoned
cherry tomato farm. Most of the hundreds of tomatoes had rotted into
mush but we were able to find a pocketful of ready-to-eat ones.
After getting back, we moved the boat and anchored closer to where
Dennis and Doris were so it would be easier for us to row over. I
brought over the fish which I had marinated in a sort of lime
juice/chipolte mix and Jack brought over a tupperware of cookie batter
he had made that included oats and chocolate chips. (He had made a
big, DELICIOUS pancake cookie the other night! I mean, DEELISH!) The
evening was very chill. Doris and Dennis are real easy-going people.
We all talked about where we're from and how we are able to be doing
what we're doing. They told us about their sons, one a professional
snowboarder, and the other a skater in living in Cali. Tight. They
grilled the big fillets and there was more than enough to go around.
Doris had made coleslaw and potato salad to go with it. It was a
spectacular meal! We baked up the cookies in their oven and the entire
batch made its way into our tummies. Doris made sure we didn't leave
without a large chunk of carrot cake that she made. The next day I
had it for breakfast. What an awesome life.

THURS, 3/13
We awoke to the feeling of being sloshed back and forth like goldfish
in a moving van. The wind had picked up hard from the west (which is
unusual) and the water was rough-housing us again. We moved quickly up
to Bennett's Harbor (this is still on Cat Island). Although windy, it
was a beautiful day! Sun was shining bright, had The Rhyme blaring on
the XM, carrot cake for your mind, and sails up and running. We made
it there in no time and tucked into a shallow (not TOO shallow) creek
that was FULL of shipwrecks!! The creek stretched far into the island
and had a deep channel in the center in which we dropped two anchors
this time (learning our lesson from the Fernandez Bay creek!) The
anchorage was PERFECT. Poor Dennis and Doris, who had made it to
Bennett's a couple of hours ahead of us, were forced to anchor outside
the creek where the west wind waves were beating into them like mad.
We went to land and walked around in search of an outlet where Jack
could plug in his circular saw. We wanted to cut up a two by four in
order to make additional shelves to hold my computer and the piles of
books and magazines we had floating around the boat. A guy named Ducky
who owned his own restaurant (Ducky's) let us plug in, cut the wood,
and keep the saw at his place while we explored this part of the
island. We passed a run-down auto shop, plenty of abandoned homes, a
basketball hoop made from the pole of a tree, more abandoned ruins,
and a convenience store that hardly had anything in stock and whose
owner, during out conversation, would loosely toss her trash and
chicken bones out the window into a trash bin located outside and
underneath it). We finally ended up at a "restaurant," which was
really someone's home who cooked for us out of her tiny kitchen and
served drinks. It was wonderful! She made us fried snapper with
homemade salads (green, potato, and coleslaw) AND fries. Doris and
Dennis were hanging out there also, along with a few Bahamians, among
them Joshua, who showed us around the island the next day hoping we
would invest in a building project he had started but wasn't able to
finish without financial backing. So far, all he had been able to
complete was a crumbling concrete foundation with a floor of loose
rocks. We went along mainly to see if he had anything to offer us in
terms of a small piece of land with ruins it. He did, in fact, but
because of the complications of ownership it didn't seem likely that
we would have much of a chance of having it sold to us (like most of
the old properties here).
Joshua and his wife recognized me as being the one riding my bike
around with the heavy backpack full of groceries a few days back.
Whenever I have gone running on any of the inhabited islands, for the
remainder of the day or for our stay I am always recognized!
Before the leaving the "restaurant" that night we made sure to order
homemade bread from an old woman named Margaret across the street.
She was the sweetest woman, with a soft smile and a kindness in her
voice. Later back at the boat, we threw the body of the Trigger Fish
over the side in hopes that sharks would come and take a bite like
they did with the head of the Red Snapper at Hog's Cay. Sure enough a
shark did pay us a visit that night! Every time it took a bite out of
the fish, its tail would whap the side of the boat -- hard! We'd hear
this splash and simultaneously feel and hear this loud thump smacking
the boat, and we'd race outside to catch it on film! This happened
three times, but every time we clamored into the cockpit we scared it
away. We weren't able to get it on video like the other shark but we
caught a few glimpses of it as it swam away. It was a grayish color
and about six feet in length with sharp teeth. (haha) After the first
attack we pulled the fish out of the water only to discover the only
thing left was most of its head! That's a BIG bite!!!

FRIDAY 3/14
At 10AM Joshua picked us up and showed us around as I've mentioned.
We rode around in the back of his pickup with Kendrick – a total
Biggie Smalls look alike and someone who works for Joshua. Joshua's
wife and son were up in front. On one of their properties his wife
showed me her garden. The garden was not something that she attended
to, but rather a patch of dry soil where she planted seeds and sat
back to watch the magic. All in the same patch of soil were growing
corn, carrots, pumpkin, watermelon, collared greens, cabbage, coconut,
a type of red bean, sweet potatoes, and although I forget the rest
there was much more! Isn't that fantastic that all these fruits and
vegetables can grow in the area with no maintenance? Niiiice.
On the drive back I spotted a bald eagle perched in a tree! When we
got back to the boat we decided to snorkel the two biggest wrecks in
the creek. At first I paddled around in the dinghy while Jack
snorkeled, but the day was so gorgeous and the water was just CALLING
out to me! So despite my burns, I put on a wetsuit and went
snorkeling!! And boy, was I glad I did! It was fantastic! First of
all, refreshing to be back in the game. Secondly, the wrecks were
substantial and full of fish life. One was a wooden fishing boat and
the other a big wooden sailboat with the wooden mast stretched out
across the ocean bottom. We could hear the sailboat creaking steadily
underwater as the current pushed against the structure. We saw a field
of jellyfish chilling on the sandy bottom (we didn't realize they were
even there until we disturbed some of them when kicking our fins too
close to the bottom!) And shooting back and forth, in and out of the
creek, were a pair of large eagle rays! Jack took many pictures of the
rays, the fish, and the wrecks with our underwater camera.
Since the wrecks contained a few decent-sized fish (i.e. dinner),
Jack and I conjured up a plan to try to snag them with a net. Jack
cut away the thick rope that was netted around an old buoy and we
secured in with heavy empty conch shells over one of the holes in the
deck that the fish liked to swim in and out of. Our plan was that one
of us would chase the fish into the net while the other would swipe
the net closed once the fish were inside. It took some time to set up
and by the time we did, we had scared all the fish away. So we left
the trap in place and decided we would sneak up on them the following
day.
In the evening we met a German couple who had come into the creek on
their catamaran. Their names were Dieter and Astrid. I've met so many
Germans on this trip! And every time I meet one I think of how fun it
would be to have Caroline around and listen to them converse in
German! Well anyway, Dieter and Astrid were very cool and we had a
good long political chat.
I want to note I was very happy to see Dennis and Doris pull their
boat out of the relentless waves of the harbor into the mouth of the
creek that day. I'm sure they got a longed-for good night's rest!

SATURDAY 3/15
. Saturday morning I ran about 3 miles in the sweltering red-hot sun.
I could actually smell the burnt skin on my arms baking! It kind of
smelled like chicken actually. Tasty, fried chicken. Yes, I was
wearing sunscreen. No, I don't put sunscreen on my fried chicken.
Anymore.
The ocean was smooth as glass so we agreed to take advantage of the
great weather to head over to Little San Salvador, our next
destination between Cat Island and Eleuthra. Before leaving, we put
on our snorkeling gear and checked out the fish trap we had set up the
day before. Either the holes of the net were larger than we thought or
the fish were smaller than we thought, but regardless the fish were
swimming in and out of the holes of the net with ease, making it
impossible to catch one.
We jumped out the water and didn't waste any time. The wind blew
slightly from the southwest and with us heading west it made for very
smooth sailing! I fully hoisted both of the sails and Jack set the
tiller tamer to keep us on course. The water was so smooth and the
breeze so steady that he never had to adjust the tiller once it was
set! We put on the "punk rock" station on the XM and read magazines
for a couple hours as we sailed. We munched on apples, carrots, and
corned beef sandwiches. The sun shimmered on the water's surface,
sparkling so bright I had to squint my eyes at the reflection! It was
a gorgeous and easy sail!
At about an hour away from Lil' San – and also an hour from sundown
–
we stopped at a long series of rocks called, well, Long Rocks. Since
the wind had been blowing from the southwest all day, it was DEAD CALM
on the North side, which rarely ever happens (wind is usually blowing
from somewhere out of the north down here). Jack immediately realized
it would be a great place to look for lobsters because he figured
hardly anyone would be able to dive that spot due to the rarity of
calmness on the north side. We brought the boat around to the north of
the rocks and anchored using an old grapnel anchor that Jack picked
out of one of the shipwrecks (perfect for coral bottoms). As predicted
the coral was amazingly lush and full of fish life! As soon as I
jumped in the water I saw big rainbow colored trigger fish, among many
other kinds of fish. Some of the sea fans were at least five feet
tall! They all leaned beautifully to one side as the current swept
against them. Some of the fans were a deep purple and some were a
vivid yellow, but all were intricately threaded with a complex, unique
design of cobweb-like veins. I dove six feet to pick up a small
purple fan that was lying flat on the bottom, un-rooted. I plan to
give it to someone in my family. Right then, after I picked it up, I
spotted something BIG in the water in the distance. It was definitely
a long fish, maybe four to six feet, creeping along very, very slowly
in a position so that it could see me. It stayed at a depth of about
four feet in what I'm guessing was 15 feet of water. It was a bit too
far to completely make out, but I literally think it may have been a
shark. I didn't waste one second! I turned around toward the rock and
kicked my legs slowly but so forcefully that I was out of breath for
minutes after I made it there.
Right before I dove for the sea fan, Jack called out to me that he
had found a lobster! It was our first spotting and we've been looking
this entire trip! The lobster had made a cozy home under a large piece
of coral so big he couldn't be reached just by sticking your hand
inside. For maybe fifteen minutes Jack and I worked this thing. First
I swam halfway into a big gap in the rock scaring the lobster deeper
inside, while Jack waited at a smaller hole on the other side with the
spear. Then we switched places and Jack swam into the big gap with
the spear and I waited on the other side, ready to dive down, grab
hold of the sucker when he backed out of the hole, and pull him out.
The current was a bit strong and it took a decent amount of energy to
control my position. When I finally saw the lobster back out of the
small hole I was SHOCKED at how big its tail was! This was the King
Lobster!! I realized it was way too fat to even make it through the
hole, but I dove down a few times anyway and attempted get a good hold
on it, hoping I could maybe force it out or at least hold it still
while Jack came around and speared it. The couple of times I managed
to grab the king, it was so strong it pulled out from my grip! One
time I managed to grab onto its antenna and it pulled away so hard
that the antenna pulled right off! In the midst of one of the
struggles my arm scrapped against some fire coral, which caused a
small amount of irritation and burning for about a half hour
afterwards.
At last a new method was needed. Jack spotted the lobster through a
tiny hole near the bottom of the coral, shot the spear through the
hole, and hit the lobster! Immediately it started running away and the
entire spear was almost taken into the hole with it! I grabbed the end
of the spear and held tight while Jack moved around to the big hole,
dove, reached in and, as I pushed the spear forward, with effort
grabbed hold of old lobsty! Jack had to exert great effort to hold
Lobsty down! It was a very strong creature made mostly of muscle (mmm,
tasty morsels of muscle…) While Jack held Lobsty with TWO HANDS, I
attempted to stab him in the head with the spear. But the shell of the
beast was too hard and wouldn't crack. Jack suggested I find a rock to
beat in the top of the spear as he held it. I frantically searched the
surface of Long Rock but it is coral rock and there were no loose
rocks laying around. Even if there were loose pieces they wouldn't
have been study enough to do the job. Finally I realized I might find
a rock under water so I dove down, spun my head to and fro, spotted a
pile of rocks that had been rounded out by the erosion of waves. I
scooped one up and brought it down to the top of the spear with no
avail. Eventually Jack used his brute strength to force the spear into
Lobsty's head. It was a sudden death.
To our luck there was not a trace of blood, so we decided it would be
safe to swim back to the boat despite my possible sighting of a shark
earlier. I swam ahead on the lookout and Jack brought up the rear
carrying Lobsty on the spear partly out of the water, just in case.
Swimming like that must have been a task for Jack because Lobsty was
heavy! Later on, using dive weights, we figured he was probably around
6 lbs.
Six succulent pounds of deliciousness.
All in all, we made six big meals out of the meat! We were even able
to get a large amount of meat out of the legs and the antenna because
they were so big. That night, after Jack played a hand of cards with
it, we steamed him and dipped the tail meat in melted butter. Um…YUM.
Other meals included Lobster dip and a lobster alfredo sauce Jack
made from a can of evaporated milk, cheddar cheese, lobster of course,
and the rest is magic cuz it was soooo good!
We fell asleep listening to old time radio suspense stories on Sonic
Theater via the XM. I love closing my eyes and imagining the scenes! I
love it even more when they run into my dreams.

SUNDAY 3/16
Wow. Another beautiful day at another beautiful anchorage. At Little
San Salvador we were the only boat there. Many boaters bypass this
island because it is on the small side and cannot offer protection for
bigger boats with deeper drafts. We were hoping to stay here during
the upcoming cold front and find refuge in a creek that runs into the
middle of the island. I have become a big fan of creeks these days.
Today became somewhat of a "music day." Jack took the dinghy and the
grapnel anchor to snorkel some of the nearby coral heads while I
worked on some songs I had written on my computer. I got some writing
done as well as some recording, but most of the time I worked on
mixing specific tracks. It was a very satisfying time. I love
indulging myself in this stuff!
Later on, I snorkeled while Jack worked on some tunes he had
orchestrated using Garage Band. The coral heads were surprisingly dark
and had a lifeless look. They were large yet there was hardly a fish
to be seen. At one point I spotted a decent sized Nassau Grouper, but
by the time I fetched the spear from the boat it had darted underneath
the coral.
That night we listened to a radio program called American Routes,
which took us down the
roads of the dirty south – the roads of Louisiana to be exact! The
program focused on the music of New Orleans, which really took us
back. There was also a sort of interview/investigative show about a
kidnapping that occurred around the 50s in which the mother who
reclaimed the child wasn't the original parent. It was a very
captivating show!
We decided that we'd spend the following day snorkeling two nearby
shipwrecks that we discovered on the charts. Tomorrow night a cold
front with 30 knot winds from the southwest would be approaching. We
knew we had until tomorrow night to find a good spot to be anchored
during the front.
P.S. My skin is doing very well. I have a few blisters on my back,
scabs on
my arm, and my side - where I experienced the deepest burn - is like
leather...but no pain and just a slight itchiness on my side. Some of
the burn marks on my back have turned into white skin and the parts
lagging behind are in a state of redness. Actually the sun is terrible
for it, and the salt water is WONDERFUL for it. For instance, the
burns on my back are healing very nicely, but those on my arms and
legs, especially my arms, (the parts most exposed to the sun) are
lagging way behind in their recovery. The salt cauterized the skin
right
away and every time I go into the water my skin looks every bit
better.

MONDAY 3/17
The day was perfect for snorkeling! The ocean was glass and the sun
shining bright. We motored around some of the cays near Lil' San to
see if we could find any promising coral. I had never seen the ocean
so calm! The entire horizon was dead flat! We moved on with our plans
to snorkel the wrecks because we figured there'd be a better chance of
fish life there. The first shipwreck must have been washed away or
blown apart from wind/weather. There was absolutely nothing in the
water where the chart said it would be. Jack mentioned he had seen
pieces of wood where he was snorkeling yesterday so we guessed those
may have been part of the wreck.
We headed around to the south side of the island in search of wreck
#2 – a huge success! The ship was BIG! It had probably been one
hundred feet long at one time. About sixty feet of it was under water
and it was broken in two, making a large "L" shape. It was down about
ten or twelve feet. It was also turned upside down which was really
cool visually, but it meant that most of the fish life was hidden
underneath. I swam around with the spear, but we didn't find anything
big enough to be worth spearing. Jack took mucho pictures. The whole
scene was incredible! Swimming and swirling around this rusty monster!
I free dove many times to try to get a peak into the darker crevasses
looking for fish but was unsuccessful in my hunt. Before getting back
on the boat Jack and I spent a few minutes practicing our free diving
in about ten to twelve feet of water. I am getting better at it but my
lung capacity is extremely weak! I also need to improve my timing when
popping my ears. By the time we were through my ears were so sore!
We continued along the southern coast of the island, wrapped around,
and anchored at west bay where a gigantic cruise ship was sitting. It
was MONSTROUS! Maybe eight stories tall, not including the fly bridge.
It looked like most of its passengers were enjoying the water and the
beach. We anchored far out of its way, ate crackers and lobster dip I
had made for lunch, and took a nap. When we awoke all of the
vacationers from the cruise were boarding. We were disappointed
because we were hoping to meet some new people and ask them about
their experiences. We nonetheless hopped on land and scoped out the
abandoned scene, picking up on the way all the litter – plastic bags
and plastic containers mostly – that had accumulated on the beach.
The
place had just about everything – including about twenty three-walled
huts on the beach with an air conditioner! Can you imagine that
waste?? There were tiki bars and water slides, all types of water
sports available, food and gift shops, blah-dee, blah-dee, blah you
get the picture. Unfortunately when we inquired about the set up to
the manager he was a bit unfriendly and unwelcome to us. We considered
hitting up the party scene the next day when the new cruise ship came
in, pretend we were part of it, and load our bellies full of beers n'
good eatin's. But alas, with the cold front approaching and a serene
as hell ocean before us we decided to cut over to Eleuthra Island so
that we wouldn't have to wait three to four extremely boring days
outside the beach where everyone else is having fun.
I had never seen such a huge expanse of ocean so DEAD CALM. It was
unbelievable! We arrived at the southern tip of Eleuthra at night,
using the depth sounder to detect not only the dpeth but the contour
of the bottom as well. Within minutes of throwing out the anchor we
hauled it right back in and moved to another spot because we
discovered we were right outside the designated trash burning site
where (yet another) cruiseline burns all their guests trash (including
plastics and the like). Yay cruisies. The smell was pretty horrible.
Jack's asthma started acting up within minutes of being in the area.


TUESDAY 3/18
The front hit over night The day, though sunny and not a drop of
rain, brought 25 mph winds. We were pretty protected so we kept
traveling north to Davis Harbor Marina to refill on water and gas.
While waiting around for the gas truck to come, Jack met Ben, a
seemingly influential guy on the islands. Ben drove us around the
nearby towns, took us to his house and best of all took us to his
fishing hole! The hole is a salt pond that Ben breeds fish in. Of what
we saw, he has Nassau Grouper, Strawberry Grouper, Rainbow Trigger
fish, and one Yamora, the "sucker fish," the ones who ride under the
bellies of sharks and feed off their scraps. Not many people, he said,
knew of the hole. If they did, they'd take his fish, he insisted. I've
never seen so many big fish at one time! There must have been about
twenty or thirty there. Ben threw in his fish guts from yesterday's
catch and the fish went rabid, jumping over and nipping each other for
a bite of the goods. Ben also shared with us a few pieces of round
fruit, called Sapadillas. We pulled over the side of the road and
picked them right off the tree! He made sure we had plenty to take
back to the boat with us! He also drove us to Rock Sound, the town
where the Homecoming Festival was taking place that upcoming weekend.
There he took us to the bank, the hardware, and on the way back the
bar. Ben was a super nice guy. Even though he said he'd be at the
festival, we didn't see him there and haven't seen him since.
Hopefully we'll see him again while we're here on the Eleuthra.

WEDNESDAY 3/19
We spent the night anchored outside of Davis Harbor Marina. In the
morning three Bahamian teens stopped by asking if we had any live bait
to spare. We did not. They were very nice dudes though and they ended
up coming back asking for hooks. Hooks and snacks. We threw them some
pretzels and Oreos as well as five small hooks and a couple medium
sized hooks. Since stopping by the first time they had caught about
eight fish. We bought four off of them. One was a very small grunt and
the rest were good sized meaty meat-heads! These kids were super
awesome and very positive. We took their picture while one of them
stuck his arms up in the air, a fish in each hand, standing up in the
moving boat, yelling "Viva Bahamas!" It was great! AND SO TRUE. Viva
Bahamas is the life.
I thought those cats were pretty brave for being out there fishing
and spearing because the front had hit and the water was churned up, a
steady gust of air spreading the water apaaaaart. It was picking up
steadily so we headed for the next protected bay – Rock Sound. We
also
wanted to be around for the Festival. I gutted and scaled all four of
the fish on the way. I started this activity off by accidentally
dropping our precious Bucket in the water! This is referring to our
one and only "everything" bucket that we use for dishes, keeping and
cleaning fish, washing the cockpit, etc. Hahaha we spent at least a
half hour trying to get this bucket out of the water! Chapter 1: Thank
god it floats. Chapter 2: the force and choppiness of the waves on the
bucket plus the force of the wind pushing the boat equals multiple
attempts (total: 9?) to save the bucket. Chapter 3: Yay! Time to get
down n' dirty with the fish guts!
On the way we saw a huge bald eagle carrying a fish in its talons! It
was AMAZING. It flew right in front of the boat!!! Magestic!!!
We motor sailed with the jib for a few miles north until we came to a
point named Cape Eleuthra. We turned around the point and due to the
width of rock sound bay, the fetch was 9 miles long, causing the waves
to have built up to at most 6 feet. The waves immediately started
tossing us around, splashing visions of the gulf stream into my mind.
For hours that seemed like days, we were thrown around banging
against, through, and into waves. It was a fairly shallow bay too
which caused the waves to be high and steep.
After that terrible battle, we hunkered downvclose to shore.
Everything in the boat was sopping wet. I mean, drenched. There was a
deep puddle on the floor. The cool thing though was that Jack and I
got straight to work going through the usual drying routines. Whereas
the first time we had to clean out a wet boat it took us an hour or
more, this time it took us ten minutes even though the boat was in one
of the wettest conditions its ever been. We've finally got our
methods down! It was truly a sweet accomplishment and we rewarded
ourselves by wandering into town and eating at Sammy's, a local
restaurant.

Rock Sound 2, March 21

Once Again, we can't post photos. Here's a couple blogs...




ROCK SOUND PART 2: Friday, March 21, 2008 Mr. Lucky writing to ya.
Well, wowee. Did I just write all that yesterday? I told you I would have forgotten it when I woke up. It’s weird, anything that happens before 10 a.m. is a mystery to me, even if I was there. In the meantime, so much has happened. We have no internet here, so it’s unfortunate that now, perhaps even more than usual, we can’t reach out and send this till who-knows-when. There’s one place that does sell internet access- at $5 for 15 minutes, which is just absurd, so I hope you’ll forgive the long silence, but that’s that.
Ruth and I have been dingying into the beach, and then walking or hitching about. Found a hardware, ATM, and the like, which is cool, and replaced some of our fishing stuff. The ATM was out of money as usual, we were told when we got there, but it turned out to just be temporarily broked. We met some Canadians who told us that sometimes the bank only had ones and fives, and sometimes neither but only big bills. Ah, the Bahamas. It’s so awesome that people just don’t care about these details. Like a bank keeping money on hand. That’s SO last year.
Anyway, next door to the Canadians was a lady named Lita. She is fricking COOL, man. WOW. She might be 70, or 60, or whatever age, but acts like a kid. Reminds me of someone named Phyllis. Awesome person. Anyway, we were checking out the ocean hole, which is a 300 foot across hole that goes down hundreds of feet, and leads to the ocean that happens to be about 20 feet from her house. We said hellos, and the next thing she tells us there’s a guy selling land that she knows of for a good price. In addition to that, we talk of fishing, and we talk of our exploits, and lack thereof, she offers to help us catch a shark, and tells us to be at the dock at 8 o’clock, and she’ll teach us how to catch a shark. We show up with our gear, and some fishheads cut from the fish the kids sold us. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with this stuff, so she just grabs it, and the next thing she’s demonstrating the techniques, and swinging the fish head around and around on about 3 feet of line, before sailing that sucker way out in the bay. Sure enough, we had two bites from sharks, one within about three minutes. We had another head taken while at the boat. We didn’t catch anything, probably because there was little activity because the water wasn’t clear enough. We’re going back tonight.
The other amazing thing is this guy she said was selling land, she went and told him about us before we met him. It seems we were recommended or something, because I think it’s really important to these people who they pick for neighbors. Anyway, we met the guy, who is Daniel Evans, and his son Gary, who are selling a lot that’s 50x150, and maybe a nice piece of backland that extends the whole thing back another 100 feet, for incredibly cheap. All while all this development is booming here. I think we lucked out, and are in an amazingly protected harbor, with a nice deep lot on a small slope, overlooking the ocean, right next to a small town that has everything you could need, but is still tiny and full of cool people. I mentioned it before, that we were thinking of this. Anyway, the idea is this: we would build something cool, small, and very humble, most likely. When it’s done, or even before that, we would give friends and family carte blanche to use it and a set of keys to prove it. That’s the idea. It’ll be cement, so we don’t even have to worry about you burning it down. And if you make a mess, we’ll just hose it down inside. Who knows, maybe we won’t be down here for long stretches of time, and maybe will just visit now and again and sell it someday, or retire here, or something. The one thing that is sure is this: you won’t have to worry. We’re not going to move away from home. We need you all too much, and miss you all too much, and our time with you is just too valuable. But after August sometime, we’ll be selling the place in New Orleans, and we’ll have to do something with the proceeds, so that’s where some of it would go.
Maybe we’ll hang here for some winter, or winters, or just come and go now and again, or whatever. When we would start it is undecided, but once we did, we would stay on the boat while we built it. In any event, consider it good news. You now have friends in the Bahamas, and eventually, will have a place to go to anytime you want. You would just have to get here.
We hope it makes you happy to hear this. We’re very excited about it, and just as excited to share it with all of you. So, we’ll see. I can’t wait to POST THIS BLOG!!!
This is really cool. I have something else to mention: again, about how typically nice people are here, unexpectedly. Yesterday morning, when the local vendors were setting up their stands for the local festival that’s going on now, we passed one that sold drinks and whatnot. We stopped and ordered two virgin strawberry daquiris, and as she made ‘em, she noticed the bag of DVDs I was holding. We talked for a minute and she asked about the boat and whatnot and then she mentioned that she had some DVDs she would give us. I said that maybe we could trade a couple or something, and didn’t know what to say to such a generous offer. So we moved on. Fast forward to today, she said she missed us last night because she had gone home and gotten the DVDs for us, and then didn’t see us. Is that nice or what? Her name’s Marlene. But wow. Can you imagine this stuff? It’s like there’s something in the water.
Anyway, then we met Donovan last night, super cool guy. He insisted that today he would drive us all over and show us the island. Today we called him, but missed him, and bumped into him later. It turns out he had come to the boat and was calling to us to take us out. Amazing. It just never ends here. I can’t imagine someone here ever going hungry, as long as someone on this island had something to eat, because it’s like one family. So now, we’re going in to meet Lita to shark fish off the pier again, and go to the festival again, but we’re taking Marlene some DVDS we’ve seen enough of, and taking my circular saw to Gary, who is a builder (Daniel’s son), because they look like they could really use it. There’s literally holes in their floor, which is in a house that I believe is made out of old pallets, but all painted up nice as could be, in stripes following the pallet boards. And you can’t imagine a more postive attitude coming out of that house. Daniel is older, and has a bad cough, and is living in what looks like really extreme poverty, and tells us to have a blessed day, and when we tell him to do the same he tells us that he’s blessed every day with a big smile. If nothing else, I just think I want to keep coming here to take lessons from the Bahamians.
It’s like our family and friends are all living in these people’s bodies, and everywhere we go, we keep bumping into you guys as you look out for us, offer us anything we could wish for, give us rides, and then send us on our way with care packages. We got a pizza from Sammy’s yesterday, ordered two days ago for yesterday, and when the owner found we had walked there, she insisted that we didn’t pick it up, but that she would drive it to us. Again, wow.
On the way back from Sammy’s, we went in an abandoned house, which turned out to be a church of sorts. The roof was gone, the floor was rotted through, and the podium still had the cloth over it, a bible on it, and an attendance book that hadn’t been touched. It was from January 1909. No spray paint, no vandalism, no arson. Untouched, since 1909, it looked like. Figure that out.
Okay, time to go shark fishing.
Jack out.

More rock sound pics for you

Kids climbing awesome trees



Sapodillas, courtesy of Ben

more rock sound pics

Ruth and our friend Donovan



Ruth and local girls



Tree climbin' Ruther



Sammy's sign



Wheelchairs for the beachsand at the cruiseship resort

Rock Sound, March 20, 2008

Ben and the sapodilla



The cotton growing outside of Lita's at the Ocean Hole



Guy who thinks that's Tupac on his shirt



Power meter at Lita's house



Lovely Lita, lovely Ruth

ROCK SOUND, THURSDAY. MARCH 20, 2008 by Mister Scritch Scratch
I guess that’s what the kids are into these days, the big “rock sound.” And the heavy heavy beat, and jungle rhythms that we all know drive them absolutely mad. Well, Ruth and I are here in this harbor called Rock Sound, or Rockton, or Rockville, hanging out with the Rocksons and the Rocksmiths. It sounds like the Flinstones, which, for some reason, never occurred to me was about a bunch of cavepeeps till I was way older than I’d like to admit. Yet, I admit it here, without disclosing the number, maybe making the case worse for myself. Funny how the conscience works. And don’t blame me, it’s really early.
It’s 7:43, the crack of damn, (that’s mine, I just made it up, but you can use it), and the roosters are a-crowing. For real. This place is lousy with roosters, actually. It really is. You’d be surprised. They sometimes crow all night. And yet not a hen in the bunch, as far as we can find. And they walk around loose, apparently finding their way home when the streetlights go on, or whatever a rooster curfew might be, but the people aren’t worried aboiut their wherabouts is the point I’m trying to make. They just carouse around all night, sometimes in roving gangs, which, I think, if geese are a gaggle, might then be a gangle (murder of crows, gaggle of geese, herd of cows, nipsy russel of voles, school of dolphin, etc.) menacing the oldsters and the chickies. It’s not like the old days, mate, when the old ones could walk about with some security. No, for real though. There really are no hens. It is a veritable cock farm, in the purest sense of the word, and yet, in two senses of the word at the same time, if you can get your brain around that.
Hey, I already told you it was 7:43 a.m., and don’t blame me for what’s said here. I’m not only not responsible for it, I won’t even remember this when I actually wake up, and I’ll have to look up my last blog to see what I’ve told you. Whether I’ve let on as to where the bodies are hid, the treasure buried, etc.
I mean, no treasure, bodies, just kidding, HA HA.
Where was I? Okay. Ruth and left the north of Little San Salvador, taking advantage of the slowness of the cold front that was imminent, and had a couple of false landings where the cruise ships land and we, apparently, do not.
We stopped in a marina for water, and met this cat Ben, who was really cool, and who then proceeded to dtive us all over hell running errands. Including to his secret fish pond, where he stocked it with fish, and is cultivating a huge school of 300-400 grouper, and triggerfish, and some others we never heard of, or I can’t remember at this hour, in any event.
Moving on and whatnot, we pressed for Rock Sound, and anchored in a creek on the way, and met a couple really cool young guys who stopped by the boat to ask if we had any bait, and we said no, but who nonethelesser stopped by again a bit later to make sure we were okay, at which point we gave them some hooks, bought some fish, and then passed on some snacks. Our precious oreos, you can tell we must have liked them a lot. Imagine that happening in the states- young black guys coming by in their car with big smiles, laughing, joking, and making sure you were okay, on their way out fishing. Again, living proof to the racists that it’s culture, not race, that they’re not liking at times, and if it is that, how important it is not to judge a book by it’s cover, but by the content of its character. Sorry, I’m a preachy bastard, but it’s tough not to reflect perceived truth as you see it.
I have a new book coming out by the way, in the fall. Look for it at your local bookseller. It’s called “I Know What’s Best for Everybody.”
We understood there was a festival in Rock Sound this week, and with their assurances we would see them all there, we proceeded to R.S. The journey was way harder than anticipated, with 20-25 mile winds on the nose the whole time, the dreaded coldfront having arrived in full glory. Even the though it was only 8 feet deep, I spose, on average, the waves were growing across the 12 miles of fetch that was our path, and so, up to the last 2 miles or so of our journey, they were 4 feet tall at least. Now, that in itself, is not the hardest part though. It’s the steepness. These waves were very close together, and thus, very steep. If we went slow, the engine was constantly out of the water, but if we went fast, we were slamming into them super hard, still barely making headway, but making a lot of water all around us. Finally, we just gave up, put the top down, battened down everything, put on our less-than-dry raingear, and went full on into them, eventually arriving, with the boat quite damp, inside and out.
Right away, Dennis and Doris spotted us, and stopped by, and eventually others that know our little sloop.
Exploring here, we found that the have a huge hardware, a bank, restaurants (one called Sammy’s was cheap, and really good, with $3 glasses of table wine, and $12 ribs-wow!), and even (gasp!) pizza. Sure, it was $18, and you have to order it a day in advance, but the lady that made it drove it right to the beach once she found out we’d have to walk a mile or so to pick it up. Really nice.
The event here started last night, and will go through the weekend, and is supposed to be some kind of Junkanoo celebration, which is good, since the cold front has stalled, and now has us pinned down here for the next several days. That’s okay though, because now we can hang out with Dennis and Doris, and Ben, and the young guys, Remy, DJ, and (I forgot his name), Marlene, Ben, Wilton, Alberto, Rolvin, plus Glen, Wilton, Leonardo, (I forget the next son’s name) and the old guy that has been nicknamed “Peace,” “Mack,” or “Taliban,” because he’s old and looks like Osama bin Laden. We about fell down when he told us that one. It’s really cool here that pretty much anyone you meet here wants to introduce themselves, wants to know your name, will make an effort to remember it, and you could just hang out with after you have an introduction. There’s no overstepping bounds or making things weird to invite a stranger (or new acquaintance, rather) to hang out somewhere, or for that matter, to ask something of them, even though the guys asking for fish hooks were the first ones who actually asked something of us. Really, really easy to make friends here. Fully half the people you meet are cool enough to hang out with, too. Everybody just has a great attitude. Do your thing, but help everybody out as you go. I love it.
Well, battery power remains the issue of the day, and Ruth and I just watched two movies last night, eating it all up, since we found a store that sells burned DVDs 4 for $20, since the Bahamas doesn’t believe in copyright laws (true story). We spent $60, and bought all kinds of silliness. “the Departed” was about the only really good movie we got, but we got a couple of Clint Eatwood movies, including “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” which was fun. People here, considering they are incredibly cool and peaceful, seem to buy the most gruesome, plotless, sadistic horror flicks the U.S. is making, including “Saw,” “Grudge,” “Gag,” etc. Just the goriest of gory, with torture/abduction movies seeming take up the bulk of the horror section, which is about a third of their stuff. Next to that is Christian, including “Little Anna’s Conch Salad Christmas” (it was tempting, but we passed), and martial arts which takes a quarter, drama another quarter, and then porn, with some Sanford and Son being the only comedy. Go figure. These people are nuts. Of course that same store is also the go-to place for wood carvings, basketball outfits, and Cuban cigars ($4 for the runts). These people are totally nuts by our standards, and largely, very cool. Especially the men. The women often seem to me to be much colder, or formal, but I’ll ask Sparkle when she wakens from her golden slumbers if she would concur.
Speak of the devil, she stirs.
Adios, hamburguesas.

P.S. We got one movie called “Shark Attack in the Mediterranean,” that I think is actually one of the funniest movies I’ve ever seen, if not the funniest. It’s so bad, it makes “Plan 9 From Outer Space,” any other Ed Wood Movie, or Mystery Science Theater movie, or even the former titleholder “Suburbia,” look like sheer genius. I cannot WAIT to have a viewing party with anyone who is willing. It is amazing.

more pics of sunsets and stuff

Big ol' lobster 3-15-08

BIG OLD LOBSTER, BUDDY. Saturday, 3-15, 2008
Ruth woke me up with the revelation that it was time to leave for Little San Salvador, because it was totally calm out. So we got packing. Before that though, we went and checked out our fish trap in the shipwreck, only to find that the smaller fish were swimming in and out of it, through the holes, while the bigger fish were sitting back and laughing. I think I also smelled cigar smoke, but I’m not sure. There was another big fish I was follerin’ around for a bit in the big wreck, but he gave me the slip. We busted out for LSS, and since the weather was so nice, and the water so calm, we decided to try some reefs on the way there for lobster and fish. We hit up the north side, since they can’t get picked on as much due to weather. I went straight to the shore, hitting up rocks and coral ledges, and Miss Sparkle stayed a bit deeper. Right about the time I shouted that there was a lobster under this rock, she was hollerin’ to me that there was something really big in the water. She wasn’t sure if it was a shark or what, but she came scootin’ to shore really fast.
Well, that lobster I saw was a monster. That sucker was big, and in there deep. I kept taking breaths and going into this rock, at least up to my waist, into this opening that was maybe three feet wide, 24 inches tall at most, and maybe 6 feet deep. I tried to grab his antennae, but the one I got ahold of broke off and he was scooting hard backward. Ruth was trying to grab him from the small hole on the other side while I was going in the front door. Finally, I shot him with the spear through another hole on the side. Ruth held the spear, hanging out of the hole, and I grabbed the lobster, and yanked him off it, but he was struggling mightily. I finally took that sucker and pushed him hard against the bottom, and finally we took the spear and ran him through from the top, right between the eyes, and he seemed to go to his glorious reward pretty quickly after that.
We swam him to the boat and took the pictures you see. We figure it was around 6 pounds or something, and was 36 inches from antenna to tail. Wow, our first one was the biggest we’ve seen.
We had lobster in melted butter for dinner, and barely dented that tail, it was so massive, that and Ruth made some wicked potatoes that filled us up while we steamed it. So that was yesterday, so today we shucked it all, filling a large bowl for lobster salad, another Tupperware for me to make lobster with cream sauce over some pasta, and then we ate the rest of the tail for dinner. Then I made cookies on the grill, while we listened to This American Life on the radio. We threw out a line for a bit and I hooked another triggerfish for a while, but she finally gave me the slip, and went off to gloat while I hung my head in shame.
Tomorrow, we’ll check out two shipwrecks, and then swing around the south side of the island, to find a creek to the inland lake where we’ll hole up during the front, till Wednesday or so. After that, we’ll jet to Eleuthra, which is a really big island, (maybe 2 miles wide, generally, but really long, like 40 miles or something. Or a hundred. Who knows. We’ve had this place to ourselves, though we did see onc cruise ship earlier today, no doubt coming into Half Moon Harbour, which is a spot on the south side of the island that they frequent. It’s otherwise deserted. We did see three Bahamian dudes on a speedboat earlier today, who yelled to us, asking if we were okay. And we heard a plane, but you could barely see it. I guess I tell you this to give you an idea of what this is like.
Good times, very quiet, and not much to report. We’re filling our days with slow everything, reading, sleeping in, and Ruth’s been making music. I did for a bit today, but my computer is usually used more for watching the Sopranos or blogging. My music is mostly me bleating away on the clarinet, much to the dismay of the fish, and few others. Okay, I guess that’s it.

I miss St. Cash hardcore. And St. Mick. And you guys a little bit too.

lobster photos 3-15 1

3-15 lobster photos

more photos from entry below

Jack's homemade cookies.



Ruth clowning with some old guy



That kissy face



It's funny. I see a treasure chest, Ruth sees a jar of pretzels. Priorities.

Bennett's Harbour 3-12-08

This is a flower or something.



Even angels gotta sleep, sucka.



Trigger fish Jack speared.



The trigger fish after the shark gottim.


First, I know this is two weeks old. I'm just putting stuff up in order. I'll put up some more tomorrow. Ruth wants to go see the island, not upload photos. Hey, she's the boss.



BENNETT’S HARBOUR, Wednesday, March 12, 2008 by the Jack attack
First of all, my wife is kickass. Did I mention that? I love that girl. Let’s see, what else?
Okay, the cold front passed. We went upisland about a mile or so, outside of the creek we got stuck in, and that’s where I wrote the last bloggy. I went into the resort where the dinner was $45 and used their internet and we ate out burgers, and I was really bummed that I couldn’t put the pictures with the blog that they were associated with. That’s something I should have started doing a long time ago, and as I was trying to do it, it occurred to me that Tom, Becky, or Laura would have done that from the first day. Well, I’m a slow learner. You forgive me? Of course you do, that’s why you’re reading this. Ruth and I are sitting here waiting for a shark. But I’m getting ahead of myself. We’re up in Bennett’s Harbour, but first I’ll tell you about the past couple of days. The rain let up, and we realized we could use some groceries, and were super low on water. Again. So Ruth left to run her run, and on the way back, pick up groceries in the backpack. Well, the grocery store was 3 ½ miles away, not 1, so I have to tip my hat to her for once again hauling all that back. She blows my mind, what she throws on her back and lugs around.
Well, while she did that, the rain poured like crazy about a couple hundred feet from the boat, and I watched the next sloop over get soaked for a good while. I figured it was coming, and had plenty of time to set up a plastic table cloth from the lifelines, and a bucket under one end to catch the runoff caught in the table cloth. So I set it up and waited. And it rained and rained and rained on that other area, and nothing on us. There was just no wind, but it was weird to watch that for so long, and it never came over to where we were. Anyway, I broke down and went into shore and asked at the resort. It turns out the lady who owns it with her husband is from West Bloomfield, and there many more people there from Kalamazoo. So she gave us free water.
Why am I so long winded? Sorry. We left, and decided on a new way to fish. Ruth drove, and I hung off the dinghy in my snorkel gear in 10-15 feet of water till I saw decent coral and dove down looking for fish. I followed a couple to piece of coral, and waited for them to circle around back to me. They were really strange, swimming not with their tails, but with two fins, one on top, and one on bottom, that moved opposite each other, flapping. It was really odd.
While I waited, I dove down and looked under it for lobster. No lobster, but a big fish under there, wedged up under the rock. I shot that sucker, and go to try to take him out. He wouldn’t budge. I got my gloves and pulled with one hand on the rock, and still nothing. I pulled the spear right out of him, barbed end and all. So, I shot him again, and he still didn’t move. This time, I ended up down about 13 feet, standing on this piece of coral, with both hands pulling upward on the spear, for a good while. I must have dove down 15 times to yank on him, over about half an hour. Finally, I got it out of there, and took it to the boat. I was nervous about how long it took, because the blood attracts sharks, and so does the flopping sound of an injured fish.
Ruth volunteered to clean it, and it was the strangest thing. It had two big hooks on it, one on the dorsal side, and one on the bottom, that it had hooked into the rock with, and that’s why it was so hard to retrieve. And the skin was like sheet metal. The fish scaler didn’t touch the scales at all, and hardly could scrape a mark into its tough hide. The scales, in fact, were all welded together like, so they were one smooth, tough skin. I couldn’t believe it when Ruth showed me. Not only that, but we actually had to use wire cutters to cut the skin once we did puncture it. Really odd. So we finally cleaned it, and got two large filets, which we offered to share with our friends we had just met because we heard them say they were out of food, and also because we finally had enough of something to share some. They told us it’s called a triggerfish. The bones on top and bottom, where the fins would be, are more like spiked hooks, to hook into the rock. A barracuda would just bite and never get through that tough skin, I suppose. Just too tough and slippery. Later that day, we hiked across the island a mile or two, and I snorkeled out into the surf a ways and poked around and took one shot at a big fish, but didn’t pursue it beyond that, because I was out a ways and didn’t want to be out with a bleeding, flopping fish. Also, we heard later that you shouldn’t snorkel there, or something like that, becaue there are a lot of sharks there. Well, NOW they tell me. Just kidding. It was fun.
Well, we ate on their boat, and they made sides, potato salad, coleslaw, beer and carrot cake. We also brought homemade chocolate chip oatmeal cookie batter, and baked those in their oven. The whole thing was great. We finally got the grill fixed too, so we made one pan cookie too, which was really good. We have a ton more batter too. So, between that, all the oatmeal cookies, oreos, pudding cups, and other good stuff Ruth bought, we have no complaints. If you ever worry about us and how we’re doing, just remember that we may not have a phone, but we have four kinds of cookies within arm’s reach at all times. It really is a tough life.
In the morning. We jetted the 15 miles north (now with a strong south wind), and tucked into this river in Bennett’s Harbour, similar to where we got stuck in Fernandez Creek, but we threw out 2 anchors, one fore and one aft, so the boat couldn’t wander with what we now see is a considerable current. That’ll help us avoid being a statistic- there are two large boats sunk in here, plus two small boats upside down within 100 feet of our right now.
We took a nice walk, had dinner for $8 each (great price) plus $1.50 for a massive ice cream cone, and $3.00 for a pint of chocolate. You can’t keep it on the boat, so I had to eat it all right then. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do, that’s all. We returned, and I built another shelf, and Ruth sewed up my gearbag, and tried to pretend we were productive people for about an hour.
We had taken the fish carcass and hung it over the side on a piece of 1000 lb. test braided nylon cord, and played our newly working XM radio and were talking on the boat in our INCREDIBLY calm anchorage (our friends are out in the rough water, rolling back and forth- you have to feel sorry for these people on these big, luxurious boats, they don’t know how good we have it) when something HIT THE BOAT. And there was a huge splash.
Well, it was a shark. It smacked the side of the boat trying to get that fish. We ran out there, hooked up a light, but it was gone. The fish remained, so we kept an ear out. Sure enough, an hour later, we hear another big splash, and maybe a yank on the boat, and something thrash back and forth. We catch it swimming away, and it bit that fish right in half. Maybe a foot wide, the fish was, and maybe 18 inches long, the part it bit off, and right through all that bone, and tough skin that we had to use wire cutters on. That’s some sharp teeth, it has.
So we’re waiting, listening to Art Blakey, Wayne Shorter, Wynton Kelly and such. Ruth has now expired, and is sweetly sleeping on the bench. Tomorrow we plan to ride around with this cat that knows of all the cheap property on the island, because hey, you never know, maybe someday. After that, on to Little San Salvador, which is halfway between here and Eleuthra. It’s uninhabited, but is a stop for cruise ships. It’s supposed to be beautiful, and there’s reefs all around it. It’s also cool because even though it’s probably only a mile or two across, there’s a salt water lake in the middle, accessible by river to us at high tide, and everyone else pretty much never. So we’ll have yet another amazing private anchorage all to ourselves. After that, Eleuthra, home of the pink sand beaches. Hopefully, they’ll have bread there, the only thing we continually lack. But we just got yeast, so if not bread, maybe we can get flour and make our own. It’s the only thing we lack.
I think I’ll go take a pic of that half a fish before I turn in.
Catch ya on the flip flop.
JL

P.S. Oh yeah. We’re going to try to buy some really big hooks when we get a chance, for the next time we get a shark to bite. Cuz hey, you never know… shark sandwich.

Still in Bennett's Harbour, 3-11-08

Shipwreck where we anchored. A grim reminder of the sea's watery grasp.







Conch bounty from the marina.




These kids were diving off of the pier and swimming, and then climbing out via boats nearby. Cool that they could do that without ever thinking anything of it, and neither did the owners, apparently. Noone even locks stuff here, it doesn't seem like. But then, if you know everyone, you don't have to worry about it.

THE NEXT DAY, WHATEVER. JUST PAY ATTENTION.
Okay. We’re here. We’re still here. We’re in Bennett’s Harbor. Pardon me. HarBOUR. It’s English. We spent the morning with this cat Joshua. He says he has a cheap hovel for sale. We looked at it. We’ll see. It was quite a hovel. Some lady lived in it and died in it, even though he doesn’t know who she is, and his family owns it.
After we came back home, we saw massive spotted eagle rays, who swam under the boat (Ruth got a video, but blogspot doesn’t support video), and I jumped in the water and they took off. I still swam off and caught ‘em on film. Close up, like. We changed the film in the camera, and we might’a lost ‘em. C’est la vie, as they say in the French parts. That means “so what?” in French. Get used to it, American.
So anyway, the reason we had to change the film was that there’s three shipwrecks near the boat (within a hundred feet), and we only saw two of them today, and shot about 36 shots. Ruth is healing up like a pro, so she’s back in the water again. Right ON. We snorkeled off of our fat asses over to those wrecks to succor in the misfortune of others, and BOY, WAS IT AWESOME! There was fish in there, hot dog! Schools of minnows that made beautiful patterns in the water, but never would leave the protection of the boat. Very cool. Ruth and I went down there and found a hatch that the fish were darting in and out of, so we found a net wrapped around a float, and so we cut it loose and used a bunch of old conch shells to weight it down around this hatch, basically making a trap for these fish. By the time we got done, the fish were all scared off of the boat, but the plan is to go back tomorrow, and hopefully the dumb fish will have forgotten that we were there and they’ll be back. The smart sharks and barracuda are probably hoping the dumb humans will forget that they were there tearing apart the bait hanging off the boat, and will just be glad that we’re back.
Just kidding. I put electrical tape over my earrings when we snorkel.
I’d love to stay and chat, but on the way back to the boat we found about 5 bound up conch someone put in bondage and forget about, so we ate dinner, and then Ruth thought I should start drinking beer while I skinned the conch and she made vegetables. Then I got all silly. I’ll talk to you later.