Eleuthera - a Greek word meaning "freedom"... or maybe a woman's body part

The narrow entrance to Hatchet Bay

We sure weren't going to fit through with him coming out!

The grilled Lobster tails are ready!

We woke today at 6am to clear, windy skies. After doing our morning engine checks and warming the diesels, we dropped the mooring ball line and headed out of Little Harbour Bar Cut to the ocean. The various weather services were reporting seas ranging from 2-3’ to 4’-6’ for our crossing to Eleuthera. We got a little of each of them as we started out in 3’-4’ seas that soon built to 4-6’ seas and then, as we approached the coast of Eleuthera, they died down to 2-3’ for the remaining few hours before we got into the shallow waters on the south and west side of Eleuthera.

One of the obstacles in our way was notorious “Current Cut” that supposedly has tidal currents that race through at up to 10 knots.  Now, the max speed of Sea Glass is about 9 knots through the water – so if the current was indeed against us at ten knots, well…do the math... we wouldn’t be going anywhere!  Of course, as luck would have it, we were approaching the Cut against the tide.

We ended up running in against the tide with no problems – showing 3.8 knots over the bottom on our GPS.  Fortunately, the cut is only about five hundred yards long, so it didn't take too long.  We "eyeball" navigated though the maze of shallows south of the Cut and, once through, set a beeline for our night’s destination at Hatchet Bay. This picturesque little bay bills itself as the safest, most protected harbor in all of the Bahamas. That might be the case; however the entrance cut is totally blind until you’re actually in it. And just as we entered the intimidating and very narrow manmade cut (with towering rock cliffs on both sides) a 150’ interisland catamaran ferry made a sharp turn and blindly entered the other side of the cut – with barely enough room for just him. Well, you can imagine how this puckered us up (and the ferry driver too I’m sure). He blasted his horn in panic and I grabbed a large handful of reverse as we slowly backed out of his way. Once he had cleared the cut, we carefully made our way in with no further drama.

We picked up one of the free government-maintained mooring balls, fired up the grill and had a fantastic sunset dinner on the flybridge, complete with grilled Slipper Lobster tails, potatoes and steamed broccoli, topped off with a very nice bottle of Pinot Grigio. There’s something about a well-earned meal, taken on the flybridge after a tiring day on the water, that makes already great food even sweeter.

After dinner, we made some water for the tanks with the watermaker and tried to stay awake long enough to watch “Eagle Eye” on the satellite TV. We failed miserably, and halfway through the movie, everyone retired to their bunks to get some shut-eye. We have another long cruising day tomorrow if we’re going to make our destination at Staniel Cay in the Exumas.

Last Stop in The Abacos

Hangin' out at Pete's Pub

Fred and Michael relax at Little Harbour

Our intention this morning was to get up at a reasonable hour, take care of a few details, put the dink up on the deck, and cast off for Little Harbour by about 9. Like I said, that was the plan. But, as so often happens - the plan didn't cooperate.

Ken had finished up his charter with the French folks and rode his motorcycle over to the Marsh Harbour Marina to see us off. Of course, that meant that we engaged him to try to help us make sense of the brand new Maretron electronic engine instrumentation. Then, I remembered that I had wanted to dinghy over to the Fish House to buy some Slipper Lobster tails to have for our trip.

So, by about 9, Mike and Ken were concentrating on the electronics and Fred and I were busy hauling the dinghy back up with the electric deck crane to stow it in its cradle - 12 feet off the water.  The winch seemed to be making a lot more straining and creaking noises than usual, but we continued to haul her up. What we didn't know is that the cable had slipped off the pulley at the tip of the deck crane and was cutting into the aluminum side plate.  This put the cable under a tremendous amount of strain. You can see what's coming, right? As the dinghy got to the apex of its lift, the cable snapped in two and the 600-pound dinghy dropped to the water - twelve feet straight down!

This got our attention. Fortunately, the dinghy dropped perfectly flat onto the water and did no damage to itself or Sea Glass. We soon figured out what had happened - and I felt pretty stupid for not having checked the cable when it was making all its creaking noises.

So, I jumped onto the motorcycle to try to find a replacement cable. That's right, with the thousands of dollars in spare parts we had put aboard Sea Glass - including a spare deck crane winch - we had no spare cable. Luckily, Abaco Standard Hardware had the proper size cable and hook - and the aluminum swages we needed. Twenty minutes later, we had the cable installed on the winch and were able to bring the dink up and finally stow it safely away for its trip south.

So instead of a 9am start, we got underway about 10:45. Still, it was a beautiful day and we set off for the 2 1/2 hour run down to Little Harbour, home of the famous Pete's Pub & Gallery. We picked up a mooring ball in the harbor, quickly put the dinghy back down and headed in for cold frosty beverages. Mission accomplished, we wandered over to the rocky beach and watched the waves for a while, then toured the gallery where the Johnston family displays (and sells) their beautiful bronzes.

Little Harbour was settled in the 50s by sculptor Randolph Johnston and his young family, who were fleeing from what Rand considered the "Megamachine" of modern American civilization. They booked passage to the Abacos, where they bought and restored an old schooner at Man O' War Cay. They then set off for a voyage, intending to sail halfway around the world to Tahiti to make their new home. But just 30 miles later, they pulled into Little Harbour, took a look around and said, "This'll work."

The story of the hardships and trials they endured settling and raising a family in such a remote area is told in Randolph's book "An Artist on his Island". It's been out of print for some time, but you can still find copies occasionally on eBay or Amazon (that's where I got my copy.) Rand died in 1994, but Pete Johnston, his youngest son, runs "Pete's Pub" (a sand floor, open air, beach bar/restaurant with the best food in the Abacos), the gallery, and the foundry where he and his son Greg continue to cast fabulous bronze sculptures.

After taking a siesta and doing some reading aboard Sea Glass - and watching a movie on her satellite TV system - we dinghied back in to the pub for a delicious dinner. Ken had ridden his motorcycle down, so he joined us and picked up the tab (thanks Ken!)

After dinner, we said goodbye to Ken and headed back to Sea Glass where we once again stowed the dinghy and stood on the swim platform watching the harbor bottom beautifully lit up by Sea Glass's cool underwater lights. It's about 10pm as I write this and I can barely keep my eyes open. Tomorrow at dawn we leave for Eleuthera, where we plan to overnight at Hatchet Bay.

So watch our progress on SPOT. Goodnight.

Second verse - Same as the first...

Sea Glass tied up snugly at the

"Beautiful Marsh Harbour Marina

& Jib Room Restaurant"

So today was what you might call a "lay day". In other words, we didn't accomplish much. It was a bit overcast and we even had a little rain.  So, we went shopping for some additional provisions - wandered around Marsh Harbour - and scrubbed the dinghy.

But we actually accomplished quite a bit considering that we were kept awake until four in the morning by the idiots next to us on an old 60' Hatteras sportfish boat who just couldn't let the party end. One of the drunk chicks even managed to topple overboard and the rest of them thought that this was just the funniest thing that had ever happened in recorded history. I finally had to play the crotchety old neighbor and ask them to please SHUT UP! I used to be young once - and I am sure I was an idiot too - but I sure can't remember when that was...

So, Friday was kind of a bust. We had thoughts of taking the dinghy and going to Nipper's Beach Bar on Great Guana Cay, but the weather just didn't cooperate. Then, we have kind of been waiting for Travis (Great Harbour's I.T. guy - and Ken's son) to join us, but he decided it wasn't going to happen until later in the week. We did manage to have a great dinner at Wally's here in Marsh - then wandered over to Boat Harbour to see how the party was going at the annual Hatteras-Bertram Shootout fishing tournament (it was dead.) So we headed back to the boat to catch up on e-mail, phone calls and THE BLOG before we are incommunicado for a few days. Which means we are out of Marsh tomorrow and headed down to the south end of the Sea of Abaco to Little Harbour - home of Pete's Pub. Then, on Sunday, we will make the bash south to Eleuthera and hole up for a night or two in Hatchett Bay.

So, watch the SPOT website. We're on the move again.

Hangin' Out in Abaco

Fred taking a picture of me taking a
picture of him high over Hope Town

An Abaco Sailing Dinghy bobs gently in

Man 'O War Harbour

After several relentless travel days to finally make our way to the Bahamas and gorging ourselves on Jib Room ribs, we turned in early last night. Dawn came with light winds, some sun, and mild temperatures. So we threw some snorkel gear and our cameras into Sea Glass's dinghy and headed for Elbow Cay.

We were supposed to meet up with Spoonbill (our company Great Harbour N47 - and my usual ride in the Abacos) at Tahiti Beach. Captain Ken has a group of folks aboard for a training charter and they stayed on anchor last night at Tahiti Beach so that they could take advantage of the Full Moon Party over at Cracker P's.

I guess they must not have enjoyed the party too much, because by the time we arrived at Tahiti Beach at 10am, they were already long gone and on their way to Little Harbour - home of the famous Pete's Pub.

So, we turned around and headed in to White Sound to wander around at the Abaco Inn and check out their piece of the "space shuttle". It's a 6' chunk of aluminum honeycomb skin from some kind of rocket or missile that fell into the sea nearby at some time in the distant past. Of course, the real reason to go to the Abaco Inn (aside from their great parties) is to check out their beautiful stretch of beach.

From White Sound, the next stop was Hope Town and the candy-striped Elbow Cay Reef Lighthouse. This is one of the very few hand-cranked, kerosene-fired lighthouses left in the Western Hemisphere - I've climbed it 50 times and I never get tired of it. We all climbed the 101 steps to the lantern room where you can go out on the catwalk for a fantastic view of most of the central Abacos. As we left, we dropped a few bucks into the donation box for the lighthouse keepers where the sign says that all donations are "gladly excepted".

Well we had worked up a bit of a sweat going up and down those steps, so we dinghied back across the harbor and climbed a few more steps to reward ourselves with some ice-cold Kalik Lights at Gary's Reef Bar on the beach at Hope Town Harbour Lodge. Of course, Gary was his usual effervescent self, regaling us with stories about his local TV nature show, "Gary the Explorer", and about growing up in Spring City, just south of Marsh Harbour.

By now it was lunch time, so we bid goodbye to Gary and wandered back down towards the harbor looking forward to a great lunch at Harbour's Edge. Conch fingers, Chicken-in-da-Bag and Grilled Grouper were the order of the day.  All washed down, of course, with cold Kalik Light and Sands Light beers.

After lunch, we piled back into the dink and roared north from Hope Town up to Man O' War Cay to walk lunch off. I was on a mission to buy a sailcloth bag for my laptop to replace the very ragged backpack I've been toting it around in. I figured that Norman Albury's Sail Shop would have just what I was looking for. Michael found several bags that he couldn't live without and I found the perfect bag for my laptop. Now the Sail Shop on Man O' War is famous for making nearly indestructible bags out of canvas and sailcloth and stitched with nylon sail thread. These things are nice and rugged - if not the last word in haut couture.

Man O' War Cay is also the traditional hub of Abaco boat building. Although they haven't launched a big schooner since the 60's, they still build some gorgeous fiberglass center console Albury skiffs. There was a striking black-hulled 23-footer under construction in the boat shed and we watched some of the local men struggling to mount the big Yamaha outboard onto the black skiff for a few minutes.  Pretty much everyone on Man O' War is named Albury, but, like all Abaconians, they couldn't be nicer or more gracious.  Interestingly, Man O' War Cay is the only "dry" cay in the Abacos - you can't buy alcoholic beverages there.  However, local legend has it that more alcohol per capita is consumed there than most anywhere else in the islands!  Not sure if that's true - but it makes for a fun story.

Still one more stop on the "2010 Sea of Abaco Dinghy Tour" - Mermaid Reef right outside Marsh Harbour. We picked up a dinghy mooring and then finally cajoled poor Fred into slipping overboard into the cold (for the Bahamas) water. Alas, his mask kept filling with water and he decided to call it quits before he even snorkeled over the reef. Oh well, watching the big parrotfish under the boat was a relaxing way to spend ten or fifteen minutes while Fred dried off - and we headed off back to Sea Glass.

Hamburgers on the flybridge grill is a great way to finish up an excellent day. Tomorrow looks like another relaxing day to maybe reprovision a little bit, get some cash out of the ATM, and make preparations for the next leg of the voyage - to Hatchett Bay on the west coast of Eleuthera. Looks like our weather window for that trip opens up Sunday and Monday.

So, I'm going to close here, pay my bar bill and wander back to the boat for dinner. Goodnight!

Marsh Harbour

Dolphins play in Sea Glass's crystal-clear bow wake as we traverse the Sea of Abaco

After only a couple hours of sleep, we struggled up to the office at Spanish Cay to present ourselves and our papers to Bahamian Customs & Immigration. Although the usual friendly Customs gal, Euline, was on maternity leave, fill-in inspector Tyrell Miller was just as efficient and friendly in getting us "legal" for our stay in the beautiful Family Islands. He even took our breakfast order!

After a delicious and filling breakfast - complete with sweet Bahama bread toast - we cast off lines and pointed Sea Glass towards Marsh Harbour. The much-feared Whale Cay passage was relatively benign - although we did take a few big rollers broadside that threatened to re-open that refrigerator again!

We docked in our slip at the "Beautiful Marsh Harbour Marina and Jib Room Restaurant" about 2:30pm and set-to giving Sea Glass a much-needed scrub down. Of course, klutz that I am, I managed to slip on the soapy flybridge steps and come crashing down onto the deck. I was lucky though, sustaining no damage more serious than a few bruises, a scraped elbow, a sore tailbone and minor embarrassment.

Fred was really looking forward to those promised ribs at the weekly Jib Room Rib Night - and he wasn't disappointed. He and Michael agreed that the ribs were great - but neither would say whether or not they were better than those BVI ribs they had been bragging about. Oh well. To ME, they are the best. Ever.

We'll sleep in tomorrow and then maybe venture out with the dinghy to see what kind of trouble we can get into. We have a couple days to spend in the Abacos before moving on ever southward to Eleuthera and the Exumas. Stay tuned.

Across the Gulfstream

Fred, Relaxing Mid-Gulfstream

Wednesday morning dawned calm, sunny, and clear. Our weather router, Chris Parker, had recommended that we wait until Wednesday afternoon for the best possible conditions. But, never being one for listening to expert advice, I suggested to Michael that we leave immediately for the crossing. Hey, the weather was looking beautiful - and I'm an impatient kind of guy,.  So, at 9:30 in the morning, off we thundered out Lake Worth inlet. Next stop, Abaco.

The crossing went just fine with 2-4' seas on the stern and just a couple hours of 3-5' stuff to keep things interesting. We finally cruised onto the turquoise waters of the Little Bahama Bank at Indian Cay Light late in the afternoon.

For dinner, we had hot dogs and hamburgers, cooked on the flybridge grill, and watched the sun set slowly into the North Atlantic far behind us. Alas, there was no green flash. In its place there was an almost-full moon that illuminated everything on the bank. As we motored steadily towards our destination for the night, Spanish Cay, the wind and seas started to kick up. Well, we ended up taking a couple large waves broadside that finally caused our fully loaded refrigerator to break its keep strap loose and disgorge its contents all over the galley sole.

Can you imagine trying to clean up broken beer bottles, spilled tomato juice, and sundry other foods off a rolling deck in the middle of the night?  Well, it's not fun. At any rate, we finally cruised up to the dock in Spanish Cay at 3:30am, tied the lines, set some fenders, and crashed into bed for a couple hours sleep before checking in with Bahamian Customs in the morning.

It wasn't the best crossing or the worst crossing ever. But, after several false starts, we were finally in the Bahamas!

High winds, lightning & staging to cross

Captain Michael surveys his sturdy vessel from

the dock at Cannonsport Marina, Palm Beach

A huge thunderclap shook us all out of our bunks about 3am as the predicted cold front brought the brunt of a series of violent storms to central and south Florida last night. I have never seen so much lightning in the air, striking all around us with the howling winds threatening to yank us from our ties to the decrepit old wharf at Jones Fruit Dock.

I ran to the pilothouse and turned on the weather station to try to get an idea of the actual strength of the howling winds. Gusts of 30, then 40, then 50, then over 60 knots rocked us against the dock. The highest gust I saw was 66 knots - or about 76 mph! Hurricane strength. Fortunately, the lines held and the dock pilings survived the night's onslaught of stormy weather.

The storm finally subsided and the rest of the night consisted of more lightning and lots of rain. No sooner had we gone back to sleep it seemed than the alarm was going off for us to wake up and get a move on to the south. We finally untied in the rainy pre-dawn hours and set off for Palm Beach, where we planned to stage at one of the marinas near the Lake Worth inlet for a dash across (dash? at 7 knots?) the Gulf Stream to the Little Bahama Bank.

We ran south uneventfully in the rain until about 3pm when the weather suddenly cleared and the sun came out. By the time we tied up to the gas dock at Cannonsport Marina in Palm Beach, it was looking like a typical early spring South Florida afternoon with the clear, turquoise incoming tide and boats everywhere.

We topped up our diesel tanks, flushed out the water tanks, added a Corona (or two) to our personal "tanks" and walked the four blocks to Johnny Longboat's on the beach for a nice, casual dinner.

The winds are currently out of the SW at about 10-15 knots and the seas are forecast to lay down nicely tomorrow afternoon. So, it looks like all the planets are about lined up and we are ready to cross tomorrow starting early afternoon. If all goes as planned, we should cross onto the Little Bahama Bank just about dusk. Then, it's all night running across the Bank in the dark, arriving at Spanish Cay for customs check-in about 8am.

We'll hopefully scarf down some breakfast at Spanish and then move on the final few hours to Marsh Harbour, where we will tie up at "The Beautiful Marsh Harbour Marina and Jib Room Restaurant". Now Fred and Michael insist that the best ribs in all the islands are to be found at some joint in the BVI.  But I have a feeling they might change their minds after sampling some of Chef Marvin's finger-lickin' baby back ribs at the weekly Wednesday "Jib Room Rib Night". I'll report our findings...