Month: May 2020

I was a little rusty preparing to travel the next morning double checking everything I hadn’t even thought about in the last 6 1/2 weeks we had been “sheltering in place.” Portholes and hatch secured, Baby Belle tied tightly to the stern, generator stowed, the radar arch line triple knotted and, of course, the engine lunch strategically placed, we glanced back one last time making a mental note of the splendor and beauty of the Family Island that had taken us in during these unprecedented times. We had left home 265 days ago which, on one hand seemed like forever, but right now we were dumbfounded how life had passed by in the blink of an eye even under the monotonous lockdown.

We were heading back up the Exuma chain and each of us mulled over our favorite spots and picked one must return to destination to reexperience before we headed home.

Our first stop was the Captain’s choice…Snorkeling the Aquarium off O’Brien Cay. Even though the wind had picked up, it was a calm day on the Bank with gentle stern rollers pushing us along. Arriving late in the day, we decided to snorkel in the morning as not to be rushed for time. Backing down on the anchor making sure it had dug in solid, we opened a bottle of wine and toasted to a successful travel day as the sun dipped below the horizon. Duane was like a kid on Christmas morning the next day. He had his snorkel gear lined up and was diligently cleaning his mask for optimal visibility when I woke up. The underwater camera was all charged and the dinghy ready to roll before I even brushed my teeth. The fish were extremely feisty that morning….maybe they hadn’t had many visitors due to recent circumstances and were swarming us as we slowly fed them crackers. They were constantly sucking at our fingers and masks and even nipping us with sharp little teeth. It also didn’t help that the Captain slyly sprinkled his crackers under me as I swam around unknowingly, thus creating some uncomfortable situations for both me and the fish. After we were out of fish food, we meandered over to a deserted island just beyond the snorkel spot to beach the dinghy and wade around the crystal topaz water. The tranquility was beyond measure as we sat on the sand listening to the breeze rustle the palm trees while breathing in the crisp salt air.

Arriving back at the boat in time for lunch, we planned on pulling anchor to motor over to Warderick Wells that evening. Half eaten chicken wrap in hand, Duane emerged from the cabin with a smile from ear to ear after hearing that Chuck and Maggie were on their way and he would have the opportunity to snorkel his favorite spot one more time before we headed out. Everything was perfect about the day….the brilliant sunshine, the pristine blue waters, the majestic fish darting about, the soft white sand…Climbing back into Baby Belle after round two of snorkeling, we wished Chuck and Maggie safe travels and made plans to meet up back in Florida.

It was a two hour ride to Warderick Wells and, being as calm as it was, we decided to travel out on the Sound outside the boundaries of the Exuma Park and do a little fishing. Well… while we did catch a fish, once it was filleted, the meat was just enough to make an appetizer. We had been looking forward to stopping at the North mooring field in Warderick Wells the whole trip as, when we were here on the way South, it was packed with cruisers enjoying the sun and surf reveling on the beach with music and cold drinks in hand. But, over two months later now, we battled the current into the cut and turned into the basin which was completely empty. There was not one boat in the mooring field, the chairs on the beach were stacked up and all the kayaks were stowed and locked away. The stillness was very eerie as we puttered passed one mooring after the other and eyed Boo Boo Hill looming over us. Out of the silence a voice came over the radio asking our intentions and, once satisfied we were traveling home, instructed us to pick a mooring and reminded us that the beaches were closed and we were not permitted on the island for any reason. It was definitely a letdown, but we were fortunate to be here in any case. As we dined on our appetizer of grilled yellow snapper, as the Captain had determined was our catch of the day, and barbecue chicken, we watched the sun sink low in the sky reflecting orange hues off the water. Five nurse sharks were doing laps around the boat (Saul’s relatives for sure) as a sea turtle was frolicking in the underwater lights. It wasn’t the scenario we were expecting a few months ago, but it was hard not to truly appreciate our surroundings and still be happy for the unexpected turn of events that led us here.

It was so serene in the mooring field that when the winds picked up the next morning, we decided to stay another day. A Royal Bahamian Defense Force boat came through late morning and wished us well. We spent the day doing relatively nothing but soaking in one of the last few days we had in our island paradise. Duane waited until the sun was high the next morning so he could fly the drone over the area. The footage was spectacular as the shades of cobalt and turquoise unfolded as the drone inched higher in the sky to capture the whole breathtaking landscape.

We let the mooring loose and set our course for Shroud Cay early the next morning. This was my must stop destination of choice. And it just so happened to almost be my birthday 😁. Traveling on the Bank snaking our way through the shifting shallow sandbars (we spent the better part of an hour trying to say that tongue twister fast five times…not too sure either one of us succeeded), we caught a glimpse of a few starfish in our path and brilliant coral formations that were scattered about. This time I was the one who was super excited to jump in Baby Belle and travel through Sanctuary Creek to one of the most amazing beaches I had ever seen. The creek was narrow and winding and, being a nature preserve, had baby mangroves being cultivated on the banks as well as curious turtles swimming about the shallow waters. The end of the creek spills into the most amazing water leading to the ocean we have set our eyes on the entire trip. A melding of brilliant turquoise, aquamarine and cobalt, the surf rolled over the sandbar providing a barrier to the deeper ocean waters. The island was completely deserted so the rest of the afternoon we strolled the white sand beaches and swam around letting the current sweep us into the creek and back again. The Captain even complied with my request to lay in the sun for a few moments to bask in the serenity of our private little oasis. Well, I did have to bribe him slightly, as I promised to help scrub the bottom of the boat when we returned later that afternoon. Since he valued the help, he didn’t really mind the “torture” and layered on the sunscreen.

The next morning was my birthday and I had been looking forward to making some pancakes, but was disappointed when I realized I had hard boiled all the eggs. The backdrop of a spectacular sunrise cured my momentary birthday blues quickly as we pulled anchor and plotted a course for New Providence Island. About half way to our destination, with no land or boats in sight, we traversed the Great Exuma Bank which was an ever changing spectrum of colors. The brilliant blue waters had shifted to deep emerald and seafoam as the depth and the sandy bottom evolved the further we pushed across. In the deep waters, I figured I would try my luck at fishing and almost caught my birthday dinner. A two foot long king mackerel (I think closer to three feet) had snagged my hook and, after we thought I had sufficiently tired him out, managed to wiggle himself free as we pulled him out of the water attempting to reel him on board. Another birthday letdown, he fought valiantly and deserved to live another day.

We anchored in West Bay off the coast of the island around 4:30pm and I had plenty of time to situate myself for my virtual birthday Happy Hour. I was overjoyed to see friends and family and felt blessed that everyone was doing well and took time to check in with an abundance of birthday wishes. Laughing as we updated each other on what was going on in our own secluded bubble, we longed for the day we can all physically get together. We have been away for 9 months now and I sometimes mentally plan out our “return to reality” party.

Leaving West Bay in the morning we motored passed the ritzy Lyford Cay and observed what looked like a Mayan Village being erected on the shore. Surely this was to become another extravagant getaway destination for the ultra wealthy. Soon we were traversing the deep royal blue waters of the Tongue of the Ocean. At depths of up to 8600 feet, I had an uneasy feeling about what creatures lurked below. Andros Island was prohibiting travelers to anchor off their shores at this time, so the next morning we set our sights on the Berry Islands. On one hand, we were excited to see a whole new island, but, on the other hand, since the area was basically shutdown, we could only realistically admire from afar. We dropped anchor in Chub Cay and decided to take Baby Belle to the Yacht Club to view the grounds at a respectable distance. There were 4 boats in the entire 100+ slip marina that choose to shelter in place after the borders were closed. One transient boater yelled from the dock that they had been holed up there for 6 weeks and nothing was available to them at the marina but water and electric. It was a truly surreal situation wherever we went.

We cruised around admiring the waterfront cottages and had a barbecue on the boat not a hundred yards from the now shuttered beach bar. It was a early night for us as tomorrow we planned on banging out 96 miles across the Great Bahama Bank. We settled in for the night as the moonlight shone through the hatch signaling the end of another fabulous day bringing us closer to home.

Duane roused me at 3:30am to begin preparations to pull anchor in thirty minutes. It was imperative that we arrived in Bimini before dark as to avoid the anchoring catastrophe we encountered our first night in the Bahamas many weeks ago. Guided by the moon that I had just fallen asleep gazing at not 5 hours earlier, we set off following the GPS coordinates leading us to North Bimini. At that point, we would have come full circle in our Bahamian adventure. Just as the sun was rising we encountered a tow guiding a huge barge through the emerald waters of the Northwest Channel. We exchanged pleasantries and the tow captain wished us safe travels as we passed effortlessly port to port. Our only other contact the whole day was a catamaran traveling a few miles ahead of us. It was nice to know we were not completely alone out there.

Actually, I misspoke, we did have an encounter a few hours later with some stowaways on the boat. I descended from the fly bridge into the cabin to get some refreshments and came face to face with Bradley who was just hopping around exploring our home. I think I scared him more than he scared me as he immediately took flight and crashed head first into the hatch. Not wanting him to injure himself, I ran upstairs to tell the Captain what had just transpired when I caught a glimpse of his companion, Sally, sitting on the tire of my bike on the bow. Three, as we named him, rode for a while on top of the solar panels, but took flight and left us midway into the trip. We prayed he found another boat to rest his wings as there was no land for fifty miles in any direction.

We decided to drop a line in the water and see if we could get a bite. No sooner had I let the reel out, I snagged something big which bolted. Duane slowed the engine down so I could secure myself with the rod, but to no avail. Whatever it was, snapped the line and took my favorite lure with him. Bradley eyed the whole event very conspicuously from under the barbecue. When the excitement was over, he perched himself right back on the window enjoying the sea breeze.

It was around 6pm when we made our turn toward the channel into North Bimini and, without so much as a flyby, Bradley made a beeline for the closest palm tree. We were sad to see him go. We dropped anchor just beyond the Hilton Resort World marina after a brief run-in with the shallow sandy bottom. I am sure we amused some locals on shore if they happened to catch a glimpse of us running from side to side across the back of the boat trying to build up some momentum to rock us free. Which actually did work…I have to give the Captain’s ideas some credit sometimes. Two customs officers called us ashore to check our documents and advised us on the protocols of the island under lockdown. It was definitely a long 15 hours and we looked forward to decompressing the rest of the evening with a cold refreshing rum cocktail.

Later the next morning we had planned to take the dinghy over to Fisherman’s Village under the bridge beyond the resort for some take-out. We had scoped out a nice place we could float around, eat and enjoy the beautiful afternoon. As we turned down the canal toward the bridge, we caught sight of a spectacular 65ft Viking named The Fine Experience docked at the marina. The hailing port was Block Island, RI. Being from our neck of the woods, we turned around to say Hello. This is where one chance encounter turned into two exceptionally FINE days that became the icing on the cake of an already once in a lifetime experience.

Upon meeting Matt, who owned the boat, and Cassie, we were floored after speaking with them for only a few minutes, when they offered us a drink, tied up our dinghy and drove us to town to get some beer and groceries. When we returned, Matt insisted we stay for drinks which stretched into an amazing night of laughs and conversation as well as a huge dinner spread of burgers, chicken, salads and I even tried barracuda. We were introduced to Jay and Stephan who worked at the resort as well as a lovely French couple on the catamaran, Jeredam, not anchored far from us. Matt showered us with T-shirts and bandanas, which doubled as face masks so they were perfect during the times we are living in at the moment, and I even scored a visor. Definitely an unexpected turn of events from when we set out that morning to head under the bridge for take-out (which coincidentally we never did make it to)…But this was FINE by us. Guided by our flashlight, we stumbled home planning to return the next afternoon to participate in the FINE Conch Experience.

I was excited the next day as I had never gone conching before. We were soon out on the dinghy pulling Matt and Cassie on the paddle board through the shallow waters outside the channel. Wading in knee deep water, occasionally falling in fish holes as we moved along, we scanned the area for the adult shells which had a flared lip which meant they were sufficient for gathering. It was the perfect setting as the sun glistened off the water and each one of us excitedly held up our catch as we dropped them one after the other into the buckets. We had soon gathered 22 conch as well as a starfish which Cassie had found searching from the paddle board. Back at the boat, the conch were unloaded onto the dock and the boys got busy with the hammers to extract the meat from the shells. Cassie made me a pina colada and we relaxed as they did all the hard work. That evening we were again treated like royalty as we were fed a delicious meal and endless cocktails and I was afforded the opportunity to take a luxurious shower. We would have loved to stay another day or two, but a tropical storm was developing and we figured it was safest to leave in the morning and not tempt fate. Wishing them well and safe travels, we thanked them profusely for taking us under their wing the last two days and we sincerely hope to cross paths in the future. If not sooner, we will surely be on the lookout in Block Island for their welcoming faces on The Fine Experience!

Matt’s motto was “keep living and pointing.” As he said many times, YODO…You Only Die Once. People need to live their lives to the fullest potential everyday no matter what. It is surely a FINE way to go through life. And we most certainly had a FINE Experience!

We ended the trip on a definite high note as we settled in for the night and reflected on how truly fortunate we are.

We were sincerely humbled by our experience in the Bahamas and learned more than ever not to take anything for granted. Grateful for the hospitality, thankful for the opportunity and hopeful for a better world, we set out of the harbor in the dark retracing our steps as to safely travel around the sandbars and pushed forward to the Gulf Stream. Next stop —Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.

We left Georgetown on a beautiful sunny day, March 13th, traveling on the Sound through lumpy beam seas. I was glad to be moving so I didn’t really mind the rocking that much for the first few hours. We had heard news reports of Covid-19 (Coronavirus) disrupting the US as well as other countries and death reports from Italy were all over the internet when we were able to get cell service a few miles into the trip. At this point, we still had not grasped the severity of the situation being as removed as we were. Life in the Bahamas seemed to be moving along as normal.

After fueling up at Emerald Bay, we were on the move again now running only on the Port engine as Starboard had developed a transmission leak. Approaching the Rudder Cay Cut, I could see through the binoculars standing waves at the entrance and knew the battle across the threshold was not going to be fun. The unsettled water looked like it could swallow us whole as we powered through the turbulence created as the tide and current opposed each other. It was the longest 5 minutes as we felt like we were standing still trapped in the swirling waters dropping the bottom out from under us with every approach. Finally breaking free, we made it clear of the cut and anchored safely away from the nasty current off Rudder Cay. The oil in the transmission looked like strawberry milk from water seeping inside so the Captain was not pleased. He was even more dejected when the vacu-flush pump on the toilet ceased up and he had to take the unit apart to replace the clogged valves. It was literally a shitty job I wanted no part of so I jumped in the water to scrub off some boat scum and make myself look busy.

The next day we moved on arriving back to visit Black Point Settlement. Port had to step up its game and, after idling twice so the Captain could adjust the shaft which was overheating, we had a relatively calm ride through the crystal blue topaz waters dotted with starfish and stingrays darting about. Heading to Lorraine’s for the weekly BBQ that evening, we made sure to stop by Momma’s house for some bread to be able to consume on our travels. There were other cruisers at Lorraine’s discussing the possible pandemic and the news, turned on low in the bar, was reporting school closures, the shutdown of Broadway in Manhattan, bars and restaurants locking their doors, the St. Patrick’s Day Parade being called off and that the NBA basketball season was postponed. We couldn’t believe what we were hearing.

Before we pulled anchor and continued forward, we had a carefree afternoon as I sat in my favorite spot overlooking the water and did some laundry, Duane collected sea glass along the shore and we had a farewell drink from the gazebo at Emerald Grill watching the brilliant colors of the sun sink below the horizon.

Staniel Cay was a little more than 7 miles away. We planned to only stop for two days as Duane had a job in Maine and I was flying back to NY on April 5th to have a much anticipated visit. We wanted to get back to Florida to put the boat somewhere safe at the end of the month before we had to leave her and travel North.

That was 45 days ago! 😳 And, needless to say, our plans have drastically changed. Today is April 29th and we are still anchored in Staniel Cay sheltering in place as the world is being held hostage by Covid-19. Now, let me backtrack a little….

Life on the island of Staniel Cay was relatively normal when we arrived. The first day we went snorkeling into Thunderball Grotto which we missed the opportunity to explore on our first trip. It was a marvel to experience as the sun beamed through the rocks lighting up the cavern and the fish sucked on our masks and fingers as we fed them crackers. Mega yachts and charters were docked at the marina and tour boats were still arriving even though the cruise ships were starting to be turned away from Nassau. Stopping at the Staniel Cay Yacht Club, we sat at the bar, ordered fish tacos and some drinks and were perfectly situated to watch the fishermen feeding a pack of nurse sharks as they cleaned their catch causing a huge frenzy in the water. We had not been able to come ashore when we visited on the way South, and we were pleasantly surprised as we made our way through the streets on the small island. The little laundromat also doubled as the liquor store, the grounds of the marina and restaurant were clean and well manicured and the Yacht Club offered fuel and water. There were three grocery stores- Pink Pearl, Burke’s Blue Store and Isle General— which, though expensive, sold all the necessities. The cottages and homes were painted in various pastel colors lining the waterfront and there was even a mural in honor of the pigs on the beach we parked Baby Belle on.

St Patrick’s Day had arrived and, before we went to have our share of green beer, we took the opportunity to snorkel in the Grotto again as we were now anchored right outside. Although someone had forgotten the green food coloring for the beer, the bar was festive and we met a lovely German couple who were renting one of the cottages. After conversing with them, we came to the realization that not only did the marina include three meals a day with the cottage rental, they were given use of a 17 foot Boston Whaler which traveled at 25mph to explore the outlying islands for the length of their stay. Florian was not so experienced with the boat, so Duane offered to be a tour guide of sorts and we gave them our location and an invitation to stop by the next day. Bright and early the next morning we heard a jolly Hello from outside and walked out of the V-berth to see Florian and his wife all ready for a day on the water. After we snorkeled the Grotto yet again, we took them on a trip over to Rachel’s Bubble Bath as they had never been and weren’t sure how to get there. Today our timing was perfect…high tide and some wind. To our delight, the waves crashed continuously over the rocks as we were engulfed by the bubbles again and again. Heading back toward Staniel, we made a pit stop to the sandbar off Sampson Cay to walk the white sandy stretch and marvel at the beauty we were so privileged to be surrounded by. Duane and Florian were both equally obsessed with drones so the Captain was happy our new German friend brought his along to capture our afternoon adventures.

Bidding them both farewell that evening after a fabulous fun-filled day, we wished them well on their continued travels through Florida after departing the Bahamas and to getting home to Germany safely as we had heard the States were beginning to shutdown more and more with each passing hour.

After grocery shopping the next day, we moved the boat over to Big Majors off Pig Beach as the swells near the Grotto were rocking us around more than we were comfortable with once the wind shifted. We took the dinghy over to Cruisers’ Beach and met two couples from the Chesapeake Bay Area who were heading home with uncertainty due to the Coronavirus and pleads from their family.

That evening everything changed…the Foreign Ministry of the Bahamas announced schools will be closing and a 9pm curfew (extended to a 24 hour curfew three days later) was being imposed to prevent the spread of the virus keeping in step with guidelines from how the United States was reacting. As of this date, March 20th, there were 4 cases on New Providence Island. The Staniel Cay Yacht Club was now only open for take out, beaches were closed and we could basically only come on shore for necessities and 90 minutes of exercise. This was just the beginning of the lockdown. Our plans to travel home for a visit had been dashed, Duane’s job cancelled until further notice and we were in relative limbo in paradise.

We were still able to dinghy to watch the shark feeding, but not go ashore. We were still able to go feed the pigs, but not land on the beach. We were still permitted to dinghy to town for groceries and to throw garbage, but we must wear a mask, stand 6 feet apart from others and not linger. To break up the daily monotony, we began to hop in the dinghy and have sunset happy hour practicing social distancing and waving at other boaters as we pass by…sometimes idling by to chat at an acceptable distance away. We began a James Bond movie marathon to pass the time some nights or we played Monopoly cards (which the Captain has become very competitive at). And don’t forget Atari which I packed as a surprise when we left home last August. Frogger has never been so entertaining and I’ve all but mastered Asteroids. Duane and Rex the Rooster are at odds most mornings as the Captain is convinced he is either blind or can not tell time when he begins his racket at 4am. Bill (the bird) has gone from being a nuisance for pooping on the dinghy constantly to an expected lunch guest on a sunny afternoon.

One afternoon Duane had the desire to film the pigs with the drone. I was therefore enlisted to drive the dinghy to go attract the pigs into the water so he could get the best footage. As the drone propellers whirled overhead, the situation soon became overwhelming as the pigs attacked Baby Belle, I tried to throw food and keep her straight, and then the birds started to dive bomb around me. I made the decision to abort the mission and raised the throttle to escape just as a pig happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and was “slightly” run over. No matter what Duane’s rendition of the events are, the poor pig was traumatized but relatively unharmed and made his way quickly to shore. Apart from this excitement, life for us has slowed down significantly and, though it was not a voluntary choice, we are grateful to be safe, healthy and locked down with a spectacular view. Though it is a tease at times since we can no longer experience the splendor to its fullest.

Not to be cliche, but it seems to truly be the end of the world as we know it. Our days stretching into weeks in Staniel Cay have become reminiscent of Groundhog Day meets Survivor. Granted we have been able to get some projects completed as Duane sewed the new dinette cushions, installed his outdoor sunshade, and ordered and since replaced the transmission cooler which was leaking on the Starboard engine. I cleaned the boat inside and out and took inventory of our supplies over a few afternoons. I’ve resorted to washing clothes in a bucket or using my manual washing machine when I am able to boil water. Showering in the salt water and rinsing with fresh water to conserve what we have in the tank has been a necessary compromise. Shaving my legs off the swim platform soon became a normal occurrence. Once I stopped complaining about eating Spam and drinking Pabst’s (PBR), Duane knew this all had to come to a head sooner than later as he was questioning my sanity. Once the transmission cooler was installed, our highlight some days was pulling anchor and moving the boat around to different parts of Staniel Cay depending on the way the wind was blowing.

Debi and Chris on Believe had arrived soon after the curfew was imposed, but since we had been traveling with them and, there were no reported cases on the Family Islands, we social distanced together for the few days and nights they were in Staniel Cay. It was a nice reprieve to the monotony we had endured as of late and we took the opportunity while we could to hit the highlights of the neighboring islands with them even though it was our fourth or fifth time in some of the areas. In the evenings, we enjoyed dinner and cocktails together and stirred up some friendly competition over Mexican Train. They were a great couple and needed to return to the States for medical reasons so were heading back to Florida regardless of the “shelter in place” orders. We had originally hoped to travel with them on the mainland, but were very skeptical of that possibility now.

The next day Timbuctoo arrived and we were overjoyed to see Chuck and Maggie again. We had moved the boat over to Between the Majors where they had anchored and stopped by for some drinks. They, like Believe, have a water maker on their boat and generously extended the offer for us to take hot showers and fill our water jugs. We have now spent the last month together and they have been our savior. Not just supplying us with much needed water and showers, they afforded us an outlet for social interaction as we regularly have drinks together to blow off steam and just appreciate the life we have before us no matter how much lack of control we seem to have at the moment. And, of course, to partake in impromptu dance parties.

The month of April is a complete blur…the sun rises and sets around us as we wait for some normalcy. Duane has named the shark who sleeps by the boat at night Saul and has regular conversations with him to obtain a different perspective when I’m not on board with a bright idea he has. He thinks Saul is his friend, but I think he is just waiting for the food scraps we discard in the water. The Bahamas started to impose a complete shutdown of the islands from 9pm Friday until 5am Monday which has now been extended throughout the whole month of May. Chuck and Maggie are no longer able to move South to Grenada as borders are still closed, so they plan to head back to Florida with us. We also spoke with Chris and Catherine and they too gave up plans to take their dream trip to Grenada and are on the way back to Canada. Having Zoom calls with friends has raised my spirits and we are in constant contact with family back home assured that everyone is doing well during these unprecedented times.

People debate if trashing the whole economy is worth letting the virus run its course. Why can’t individuals be more self conscious about social distancing and hygiene practices while still able to conduct a relatively normal daily life? Others debate that quarantine and complete shutdowns isolating everyone by mandatory means is the only way to curb the invisible killer lurking amongst us. In the end, we will never know what would have happened and can only pray the powers that be took the more prudent course…there is no turning back now and the virus is still running rampant.

And what about the beer! Millions of kegs are going stale in venues when doors were shuttered right before St Patrick’s Day and March Madness. Not to make light of all the suffering, this is just an example of the economic devastation which is bubbling up and will envelop every aspect of our country.

As we sit here and ponder our own existence going forward, we have no choice but to do just that and move forward. We pray for those sick, dying and those who fought valiantly but ultimately succumbed to the killer. We pray for their family and friends who were unable to comfort them when they needed it most. We pray for all those on the front lines who act as doctor, nurse, caregiver and counselor since their patients are cut off from everyone else. We continually pray that they stay safe and healthy as they put themselves and the families they go home to after an excruciating day at risk. We also pray that our family and friends stay safe and healthy during all this madness.

We have come to terms that the rest of our trip will not materialize as planned. We move on with trepidation as to what awaits us as we make plans to move up the East coast to complete our Loop journey.

Once we made our decision to leave, the final few days in Staniel Cay we squeezed in all of our “lasts” and filed our plan with the government requesting permission to travel through the Bahamian waters making only the necessary stops to sleep and as the weather permits. All these preparations to head back to the United States were made as the Bahamas announces a reported 81 cases in the country which have resulted in 11 deaths and the whole world is on the brink of disaster.

We will pull anchor tomorrow, go through the cut around Fowl Cay for the seventh time, and this time not just move around the bend for a change of scenery, but head for home.

The water was a sheet of glass when we exited the Rat Cut onto the Sound that cloudy morning. Motoring toward the Conch Cut for access into the deep water of Elizabeth Harbor, there was nothing more than small rollers off the stern pushing us along. Arriving around noon on the first day of the Island Regatta, the anchorages were packed with cruisers. We had heard on the daily 8am Cruiser’s Net on the VHF radio that approximately 325 boats had now arrived for the festivities. The Cruiser’s Net was an ingenious idea…at 8am one of the cruisers lead an informative talk which announced the events for the day, weather, arrivals and departures, asked if anyone needed help or parts, if anyone had items for trade and basically answered any question a fellow boater had.

After searching for awhile, we found the perfect area to park ourselves off Stocking Island near Volleyball Beach…which, coincidentally, was the location of the popular gathering spot-Chat ‘N’ Chill. Passing by Two Loons anchored near Monument Beach, we honked the horn as we were anxious to see Chris and Catherine after all this time. They were not at home so we proceeded to dinghy over to Lake Victoria and into Georgetown. Duane’s mom and Lisa would not be arriving for 4 days so we had time to explore and scope out the hot spots that we could take them to once they landed.

There was a water spigot on the dinghy dock which was utilized by cruisers to fill our jugs as often as we needed to. Garbage disposal in the whole town was in the form of a small pick-up truck where you threw your trash in the back and slipped $3 through the driver’s side window. We had now become accustomed to the simplicity of such every day tasks. Needing more data on his BTC card, we walked through town to locate the pink building just beyond the basketball courts. Directions to any location on the islands were never more explicit than landmarks to get you where you needed to be. A pleasant older gentleman was selling fresh produce on the side of the road and we scooped up some tomatoes, onions and peppers. He ended up being our “go to” grocer over the next two weeks of our stay. We hadn’t seen a liquor store since Nassau, so our last stop on the way back to the dock was to replenish our beer and rum supplies.

As we organized the boat, we heard familiar voices outside. Catherine and Chris had stopped by to say Hello on their way back from participating in the Poker Run that afternoon. I was heartbroken to have missed the one event I actually wanted to participate in as a bar crawl/poker game/dinghy race on the water was right up my alley. Making plans to meet at Chat ‘N’ Chill for the Variety Show the next day, Catherine and Chris took off and we decided to go ashore to see what the Chat ‘N’ Chill bar dubbed “day camp for adults” was all about. Located on Stocking Island and only accessible by water, the small shack on the sand was the quintessential island beach bar right down to the sandy floors, memorabilia hanging from the rafters and the thirty minutes it took to get a beer. The “island time” mentality still eludes me.

Coming ashore the next day for the Variety Show, we brought our seating which conveniently had space for some beverages to avoid the long wait at the bar empty-handed, which everyone, not only us, seemed to loathe. Catherine and Chris introduced us to some other boaters and our group congregated on the beach watching and laughing at the various acts ranging from musical numbers to comedy sketches to magic acts. Even the island Junkanoo band made an appearance.

The next morning we rallied early to come ashore to witness the Coconut Challenge. We had wanted to participate, but were not able to find two other boaters at such short notice who needed teammates. In the end, that was a blessing. As we watched the participants maneuver their motor-less dinghy with only one flipper for navigation and gather filthy coconuts while banging off each other, we were happy not to have subjected Baby Belle to that torture. It was hysterical to watch the antics from shore.

Before going over for drinks on Two Loons that evening, we took a short ride over to the Piece and Plenty Beach Bar at the far end of Stocking Island. The crystal clear water off the beach was an array of turquoise and aqua enhanced by the sand bar which stretched well out from the shore. Our bartender, Chocolate, made us hefty frozen rum drinks which hit the spot on such a hot day and we decided to split a turkey burger. Good thing too since it was a whooping $20…I made sure to load up on condiments and score an extra bag of chips to get my money’s worth. We had a pleasant evening catching up on Two Loons and forgot how comfortable and spacious their power catamaran was. They too were having an unforgettable adventure and we talked for hours about all we had been through since that fateful day on the rivers.

In anticipation of our family’s arrival that evening, we moved the boat to Flamingo Bay into an area called the Litter Box on the Georgetown side of the Harbor. It was perfect timing too as the Regatta softball game against the Bahamian locals was that evening and the event would now be an easy walk from where we were able to land the dinghy. Before we left to cheer on the cruisers while enjoying conch fritters and rum punch, we received a message from Lisa that they were having issues with their travel arrangements and would not be on the flight to Georgetown for two more days. We were disappointed, but it was just a delay and we would still have five days together. On the plus side for us, we were able to stay at the condo they rented off the beach awaiting their arrival since the property was already reserved. The owner, Eric, was more than accommodating allowing us to tie the dinghy to the private dock near the beach cottage, gave us access to a fresh water hose to full our jugs for the tank on the boat and even welcomed us to use coin operated laundry facility steps from the front door. Add in the comfy bed, hot shower and air conditioning, we were in heaven. To boot, the boat was anchored in a perfect spot for us to check on her swaying around as we sat and relaxed on the back deck.

After a great night sleep, we took a ride in Baby Belle under the Crab Cay Bridge and went to explore the ruins on the Cay and abandoned luxury resort project. It was surreal to see the construction supplies laying in neat piles along the road, as well as the infrastructure of what would have been the main building of the Resort and the surrounding landscape meticulously groomed. Whether it was politics, lack of money, or indifference, the situation was a tragedy. What could have brought much needed revenue to the island, now just sat rotting by the wayside. It was stifling on land so we headed back to the beach condo to cool off at the beach and rinse the layer of dust off.

Lisa and Jean’s flight was arriving late in the afternoon so we headed into town to get Jerk chicken from the local stand which was closed when we were there last. It was hot and dusty on the road and an older man who lived in the area took pity on us and drove us into town. Duane had been saying hitchhiking was a way of life on the islands and, after my first experience, my feet and sweaty brow were fine with putting my thumb out. It turned out the Jerk chicken stand was a three-in-one jackpot being attached to not only a Daiquiri Shack but a Conch and Seafood stand. Sampling each one to see what they had to offer, we definitely had to make a plan to revisit with our guests.

We were elated to see that Lisa and Jean had arrived when we got back from town. Once they unpacked, we all sat on the deck until the sun set chatting and catching up. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen them in almost six months. Duane more than made up for it by peppering them with stories of our travels some of which resulted in a few chuckles at my expense. Taking a few minutes from his re-enactments of boating life accompanied by the First Mate (me), the Captain fired up the barbecue and we had a lavish spread of steaks and ribs and toasted to their safe arrival and our continued safe travels. Watching the news for the first time in weeks, we heard reports of a possible pandemic, Covid-19, spreading around the world. At this point, we had received sporadic reports of an illness surfacing in the United States more contagious than the flu, but did not have an inkling as to the ultimate gravity of the situation.

Breaking out the kayaks in the morning, the four off us took off toward Crab Cay to see the sunken boats half submerged that had been long abandoned. It was a pleasant few hours paddling around under the blazing sun between the rocks and over the reefs. The Regatta Gala was that afternoon so we all boarded Bella Donna and took her across the Harbor for the event. Chat ‘N’ Chill was overflowing with revelers and contestants decked out in elaborate and comical costumes for the competition. Catherine and Chris were departing the next day for Long Island further South on their way to Grenada and it was great to have one last afternoon with them since we were uncertain when our paths will cross again. They are such an amazing couple always making us feel welcome and making the day a little brighter every time we see them ever since we first met back in Michigan. We wished them well on their travels and toasted to many more adventures on the horizon.

After a few rum punches, we boarded Bella Donna and went back across the Harbor anchoring near Bacchus Rock closer to town and the dingy dock. Safely ashore, we settled in at Island Boy for some drinks and Lisa wanted to try conch fritters. The waiter advised us they would be closing the kitchen shortly so we needed to locate another restaurant for dinner. Just by coincidence, we passed one of organizers of the Regatta events and she pointed us in the direction of Choppy Waters. There was a local Rake-and-Scrape band playing native Bahamian music and, although the menu was minimal, the food was delicious. It was late in the evening so we decided to lock the dinghy and leave it in town and take a cab back to the cottage to play a lively game of LCR. The next morning we were up bright and early to hitchhike into town to collect Baby Belle.

Right back in town that afternoon, we sat outside of Driftwood Cafe waiting for the BBQ buffet to start at the Piece and Plenty Hotel. Driftwood was a cute cafe with white washed tables on the inside and beachy picnic tables and umbrellas scattered about the outside courtyard. Flowers and shrubbery intermingled along the fence successfully walling off the street on the other side giving the space a true secluded and relaxing feel. It didn’t hurt that the pizza was super crispy and delectable. Each one of us wanted to sample all the delicacies at the BBQ that evening so we purchased our tickets for different main courses to share amongst the table. Good thing I was wearing a loose sundress.

After Jean cooked us breakfast, Duane suggested that he shuttle us back to Bella Donna and we go enjoy the afternoon on the sand bar off Piece and Plenty beach. Spending the day floating on the noodles with Strawberry Daiquiris in hand and collecting shells along the white sand beach, I wished there were a few more hours in the day. Jean had also purchased some focaccia from Driftwood waiting for Duane to pick them up so we had a delicious lunch on the back of the boat. That night we anchored the boat in Red Shanks to protect her from the gale force winds arriving the next day before having a barbecue and a rematch of LCR during which I gave up my previous winnings to Duane’s mom, Jean.

The winds had really stirred up the next day so we were glad to have had the opportunity to spend the last few days on the water with the two of them. That afternoon we took them to the three-in-one shacks and indulged on BBQ ribs, conch fritters and had a few painkillers to wash it all down. The view from Choppy Waters was spectacular so we planned to go back to enjoy the scenery one last time. On the walk over, we were stopped by a gentleman selling fresh breads out of his car…which was not unusual on the islands, so Jean purchased a few loaves still warm from the oven. Further down the street was the hair salon which also sold lobster and shrimp out of a cooler at the counter. Duane was able to get a much needed haircut and Jean purchased lobster tails for dinner all in one stop. We spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening on the top deck of Choppy Waters enjoying our last full day together and watched boats bounce around from the high winds which had kicked up. To round out the day, we made a quick stop to check out the palatial February Point and grab a drink at the Rusty Anchor overlooking the infinity pool. Tom, a gentleman renting the neighboring cottage, was nice enough to drive us back so we invited him over for dinner as a way to say Thank You. Jean whipped together a scrumptious pasta lobster Alfredo enjoyed by all. Sitting on the deck under the stars which lit up the sky, we were sad that their trip was coming to a close.

Their flight wasn’t until late the next afternoon so Tom was nice enough to drive us out toward the airport. We wanted to squeeze in as much quality time as we could and had a nice lunch on the water at Splash BBQ at the Hideaway Resort. We played some ping pong, Connect Four and soaked up the sun on the deck until the cab showed up to collect them and whisk them off to the airport. It was a great few days and it was disappointing to see them go as we waved goodbye and started to make our way back to Georgetown. Passing the Fish Fry shacks along the way, we grabbed a drink and meandered through the collection of establishments offering a wide range of authentic cuisines.

Once back at the cottage, we thanked Eric for his hospitality, packed up our things and filled the jugs with water one last time. The dinghy was weighed down and there were white caps on the water so Duane took a wet ride back to Bella Donna as I walked over the Crab Cay bridge to nowhere and made my way to the beach so he could pick me up once he unloaded. I was elated and so relieved to see Bella Donna safe and sound on the other side of the ridge when I descended from the road. We had been so nervous leaving her alone the last two days in the extremely high winds.

The winds continued to blow for the next 48 hours. Howling at a constant 25 knots, there were gale force gusts of 40+ at times and we heard reports of boats dragging and crashing into one another overnight. We made one last exploration of Crab Cay and had lunch at Driftwood before we moved the boat back to Stocking Island off the sandbar once the winds subsided two day later. The weather had cleared up enough for the closing ceremonies to be held and announce the Regatta winners. The races took place while we were tucked safely in Red Shanks so we could only hear the colorful commentary on the VHF the two days before as the sailors battled for the first place prize.

As we walked the beach, we bumped into Chris and Debi who were sailing on Believe. We had met them in Black Point at Lorraine’s Cafe BBQ. We invited them over to the boat that night to have some cocktails and see what they had been up to since we saw them a few weeks ago. We were having a great time when a tragic call came over the radio that a water taxi coming from Piece and Plenty had hit a couple on a dinghy just leaving dinner and that the man had perished. We couldn’t believe what we were hearing having just been in that area less than two hours ago. The water taxis were relentlessly running at high speeds around the anchorages… that is one reason we moved the boat across the Harbor when we first arrived. Duane had become frustrated with the early morning wakes and loud music as the taxis barreled through. This tragedy was definitely going to have repercussions and we could only pray for the people involved. To add to the horror of the occurrence, once the name of the boat was released, we realized that we had also met this couple at Black Point and sat next to them at dinner with Debi and Chris.

We had decided to leave in two days and head back North up the Exuma chain. Duane had a job scheduled so we planned to be in Florida and fly home at the end of the month. On the last day in Georgetown, Duane gave away some excess items we had no use for on the boat (which I think was good therapy for him), helped Chris fix his air conditioning and got us ready to motor on. Later in the afternoon, Chris and Debi picked us up to attend the first day of the Bahamian Music and Heritage Festival. Sampling local dishes, listening to the bands and enjoying a few rum punches, we had a thoroughly pleasant last afternoon. That evening the four of us hung out on the back of Bella Donna and the boys tried to launch a Chinese lantern. Not going quite as they had planned, the flaming object almost crashed into Baby Belle as it took a quick header into the water. Duane has never had any luck with the airborne sky lanterns, or flying kites for that matter, but I have come to accept that he will never stop trying until he succeeds.

We fell asleep to the sounds of the water slapping the hull and looked forward to moving on the next day back out onto the sparkling blue waters…plus we needed to pump the poop tank 😌