Khronicle Katch Up

Location: Deltaville, VA
Position: N 37 32.902 W 076 19.823

We’d hoped to spend some time cruising the Pamlico Sound and North Carolina’s outer banks, but we also really wanted to get back to the Chesapeake. Between the high temperatures, the lack of wind, and the smoke from forest fires, we elected to carry on northward. We forged our way up the Intracoastal Waterway at a pretty brisk pace and finally made Deltaville yesterday.

We spent two days with Jeseph, Mark’s son, and our granddaughter Tiger Lily. They stayed aboard with us for a couple of nights and travelled with us from Southport up to Wrightsville Beach, near Wilmington. We had a lovely time together and they really enjoyed their time on the boat, even though we weren’t able to go sailing.

From Wrightsville Beach we headed back outside and did manage to get a nice overnight sail all the way up to Beaufort. We then continued on the ICW non-stop to Oriental, NC. We had a couple of long days on the waterway, spending a night at Belhaven, NC, crossing the Albemarle Sound, and stopping again at Great Bridge, VA. We didn’t have much good wind most of the way so we did a lot of motoring and motor sailing and ‘enjoyed’ the smoke from the forest fires. We continued on past Norfolk and had a brief stop on the East River off the Mobjack Bay for a couple of days visiting with our friends at Zimmerman Marine. We finally arrived in Deltaville yesterday evening. We completely bypassed Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina (and all that ‘skinny water’) on our way back. We also have a ‘first time’ visit to the Pamlico Sound and the outer banks to look forward to.

Now for some of the promised details of our crossing back from the Bahamas.

We set off from Great Sale Cay at 5pm on May 27th with our friends on Amida and had a lovely sail across the banks overnight. Amida is a Valiant 37 – we found that she and Rachel sail at about the same speed, allowing us to “buddy boat” back to the US together. It was a great fit, both boat-wise and crew-wise.

By the morning of the 28th we were leaving the banks and getting into the Atlantic at the northwestern tip of the Bahamas. We headed northwest to the center of the Gulf Stream where the current is the highest. By our 2nd night we were blasting along on a close reach attaining an all time high speed over ground for us in Rachel of 9.8 knots – we usually sail at around 4.5 to 5.5 knots, so this was really fast. Wow, what an exciting night! We took 3 hour shifts and tried to sleep during our off times. The first 2 days of this are always the worst until your body settles into the routine, and you get tired enough to sleep on demand!!

The next day, the 29th, the wind died to almost nothing. We were still making around 3 knots in the stream but decided to power up the engine to make better time. The forecast was for light and variable winds for the next couple of days. The sea was like glass but there was a slight northeast ocean swell of a foot or so. By mid morning the swell had grown to a gentle 4 to 6 feet - still no problem. In the early afternoon we started to get some wind from the north, maybe 5 knots, and the sea was starting to get a little more boisterous. At this point we began to feel uncomfortable about being in the stream with wind opposing current. Every sailor hears horror stories of boats caught in this situation, and we didn’t want to become another statistic.

We called our friends on Amida and had a discussion. They weren’t as concerned but conceded to join us in heading west to get out of the stream as quickly as possible. The western edge of the stream was about 30 miles away (5-6 hours at Rachel’s speed).

It wasn’t much more than 2 hours later when the winds picked up to 20-25 knots from the northeast and the seas grew to 10-15 feet. Where the heck did the wind come from? There was nothing in any of the forecasts that mentioned a NE wind, let alone coming in at 20-25 knots! Well, here it was, so we had to deal with it.

We were getting flung around like a toy boat in a bath tub. Rachel once again proved herself to be a real lady. Thanks to the wind being on our beam, she stood up straight the whole time, even when we dropped off the back side of a particularly steep 14 footer, sliding down the back face of the wave and landing as neatly as if we’d planned it. Not once were we worried about making it – it was pretty uncomfortable and a lot of work, but we knew Rachel would take care of us and we’d take care of her. By nightfall we were on the edge of the stream in “normal” 20-25 knot seas and decided to heave-to for a couple of hours to get some rest and see if the wind would shift around.

Note: Heaving-to is a maneuver which is used in storm situations to calm the boat and give the crew a more settled space. The sails are set so no steering is required and the boat makes very slow progress to windward. Here’s some more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heaving_to

Once hove-to, Rachel’s movement was much more settled, albeit a bit rolly. We weren’t far from Charleston, SC, but we still wanted to try and make Beaufort, NC. So we got back under sail and beat our way in a northerly direction hoping for a break.

By morning we realized we would not make Beaufort easily and after more discussion with Amida over the VHF, decided to set a course for Southport, NC just inside the mouth of the Cape Fear River. After another day and night we arrived. We were pretty worn out, although we had got into the swing of the 3 hour shifts.

We were a bit disappointed, but not too badly. We hadn’t made Beaufort (remember – in NC it’s “bow-furt” and in SC it’s “byew-furt”) but felt we’d made the right decision in getting out of the Gulf Stream when we did and are quite satisfied with our first ‘big crossing’ on our own with Rachel. It was a resounding success for both boat and crew.

Now we’re looking forward to taking it easy for a few days and visiting with our friends on the Bay. After that? We’ll just have to see where the wind takes us….

All our best,

We’re Baaa…aack!

Location: Southport, North Carolina, US of A
Position: N 26 49.332 W 077 22.089

We just wanted to let you all know we arrived safely just after noon on Saturday, May 31 in Southport, NC. Southport is a very picturesque town at the south end of the Cape Fear River. Weather kept us from making it all the way to Beaufort, NC, but we arrived safe and sound after four days and four nights on the ocean. Rachel is a real lady and we love her even more now than we did before.

We’re staying at a marina for a couple of days to check back in to the US and to recover a bit – our watch schedule was 3 hours on and 3 hours off, so we didn’t get a lot of rest on our way back. We’re still pretty tired but are planning to forge on to Wrightsville Beach tomorrow, followed by another overnight on the ocean from Masonboro Inlet to Beaufort then on up the ICW to Oriental, NC. That will put us within 3 or so days from the Chesapeake. Woohoo!

More details later in a “real” Khronicle – but here’s a teaser – try not to be in the Gulf Stream when the wind kicks up to 20-25 knots out of the Northeast….the term ”washing machine” comes to mind…..

Safely back and on our way to Deltaville

Heading back home

Location: Manjack Cay, Great Abaco Island, Bahamas
Position: N 26 49.332 W 077 22.089

We left Cooper’s Town three days ago and bounced back down to Manjack Cay to await a northeast frontal passage. The sail down was lovely – one of the nicest since we’ve been here.

We took advantage of the calm before the storm and went snorkeling with friends out on the reefs offshore on the east side of the island.

Yesterday we had some lovely lightening (and a few scary near misses), lots of rain (we’ve had more rain in the last week than we’ve had the entire time we’ve been in the Bahamas), and some pretty brisk, shifting wind.

This morning about 25 or 30 other boats sailed past us, getting staged for their return to the US. We’ll be doing the same tomorrow morning, heading for Great Sale Cay to spend the night. We’re hoping to make Beaufort, NC or Charleston, SC, but we’re willing to take Fernandina or Canaveral, FL at this point – we’re ready to come back!

Today we went for a lovely walk around the island and one last swim in this clear azure water. We will certainly miss that!

Here’s a link we’re going to try to update daily at least until we get back to the US. It will show you where we are on a map and / or satellite photo whenever we manage to update it:

http://www.winlink.org/dotnet/maps/PositionReportsDetail.aspx?callsign=KI4FTC.

We’re hoping our next Khronicle will be sent from somewhere in the good old US of A.


Cheers,

Friendly Coopers Town

Location: Coopers Town, Great Abaco Island, Bahamas
Position: N 26 52.455 W 077 30.547

When we arrived at Coopers Town with our friends on Diva we could see a crowd of kids playing and diving into the water from the public dock. Suddenly 8 of them jumped into the water and started swimming over to Diva, being the closest boat to the dock. We could see the kids laughing and joking with Carl and Debbie and climbing into their dinghy. This is just an example of how friendly everyone is here.

Walking down the street everyone that you pass, be it walking or in car, without fail says “Hello, how are you?”, or honks and waves. Every age from tiny kids who are barely walking to old people with a cane – even surly teenage boys smile and talk to us when we greet them. What a lovely welcoming feeling you get. Coopers Town is not glitzy and touristy like Hope Town. It doesn’t have lots of shops and quaint houses. But the people here are the friendliest we have come across in the Bahamas so far. And seeing as how friendly almost everyone has been to us on this trip, that’s saying a lot!

On Saturday night we went to a little eatery named Ritchie’s. We had seen the owner outside chopping ribs to BBQ earlier in the day. On Friday and Saturday evenings, they cook up a mess of ribs, fish, chicken, conch, etc. and people driving by stop and pick up a “to-go” box. We sat outside, by the road and enjoyed our dinner in between waving to and chatting with passers by. After we got back to the boat we enjoyed watching all the coming and going along the water front.

In friendship,

Jewel

Location: Manjack Cay, Abacos, Bahamas
Position: N 26 49.302 W 077 22.130

We have just lucked into a jewel of an island. We left Black Sound, Green Turtle Cay on Tuesday afternoon at high tide and made our way a bit further north to Manjack Cay.

Manjack Cay is awesome. We had heard there was free WiFi here, but were a bit skeptical as we approached. All we saw was a lovely bay with mangroves, a small beach and 3 houses on the north side. But, as we got closer we saw that one of the houses had a BIG WiFi antenna! After anchoring, we whipped out our laptop and antenna and sure enough, we had a really strong signal. Woohoo!! We quickly took care of calling family members, something we hadn’t done for quite a while, and then headed to shore. Apparently the owners (who are ex-cruisers) have lived here for about 15 years. While cruising they became discouraged by the number of islands that were bought, made ‘private’, and no longer allowed uninvited visitors – so they decided to do their small part to change the situation.

On arrival at the beach we were greeted with a sign that read “Please Trespass”. Several well-maintained walking paths have been developed including a boardwalk through the mangroves and several paths to various beaches. So off we went for a much needed walk. We went by the house on our way back to our dinghy to thank the owners for this cruiser haven. They were on a trip but had another family taking care of the place while they were gone. We had a nice chat and they told us to feel free to walk anywhere and use the fire pit, coconut splitters and all the picnic tables, benches, and seats on the beach. As you can imagine this is a popular anchorage! Social organizers that we seem to have become, we asked if we could invite all the boats in the anchorage to a happy hour on the beach that evening. They approved, so our first order of business was to invite them.

Then we dinghied around the anchorage and invited all 15 boats. We ended up with a lovely crowd, lots of food, drink and lively conversation. These cruiser happy hours always afford us the good fortune of making new friends as well as renewing old relationships.

After spending a couple of days walking all the trails, which connect all the beaches on the island, getting some well needed exercise, the wind changed again. This morning we’ll move to Coopers Town on the other side of the Sea of Abaco to sit in the lee of Great Abaco Island for some southwesterly winds over the next few days. We expect to be bouncing around between Manjack Cay, Great Abaco Island, and Green Turtle Cay depending on where the wind comes from until we see a new weather window open up. We’re in the company of several other boats who have similar plans, so we’ll have plenty of time to visit, socialize, and catch up on a few boat jobs.

Fair winds,

Pieces of eight

Location: Manjack Cay, Abacos, Bahamas
Position: N 26 49.302 W 077 22.130

When our grandson Alex was learning to count, we used to sit with him and separate toys, pennies, whatever, into piles and try to teach him to count them.

We’d count them for him and then ask him to do the same. As fast as he could, he’d point at random and say “one-two-one-two-one-two-one-two-eight” followed by a wide grin at his success. This was pretty much the sum total of his counting ability at this early stage, and it, and his big, happy grin never failed to make us laugh.

Cell phones have become ubiquitous in the Bahamas. Before cell phones, most communication down here was via VHF radio. Nearly all boats, most businesses, and many homes all continue to use VHF since it’s free once you own a radio. Channel 16 is the accepted international standard for “hailing and distress”. Once contact with another vessel or a shore-side facility is made, the participants move to a different channel to allow channel 16 to stay clear for other hailing.

Here’s a snippet of conversation that occurs all too often and keeps us entertained (we, who are so easily entertained):

Boat: “Marina, marina, marina, this is Boat”
Marina “Boat, this is marina. Switch and answer on channel twelve.”
Boat: “What channel?”
Marina: “Twelve”
Boat: “Did not copy. Please repeat.”
Marina: “Twelve. One two.”
Boat: “One two??”
Marina: “ONE TWO!! ONE TWO!!”
Mark & Julie, in unison: “EIGHT!!”


Still smiling,

Birthdays and Bottoms

Location: Green Turtle Cay, Abacos, Bahamas
Position: N 26 45.673 W 077 20.181

We left Great Guana Cay and sailed further north. We needed to get through ‘The Whale’ while the weather was in our favor and today was a good day for it with 5 to 10 knot winds and little-to-no sea swell. The Whale can get a bit hairy in heavy winds and seas from the northeast. It involves going out into the Atlantic and paralleling a rocky island named Whale Cay for a couple of miles, then cutting back in through the reefs. All negotiated with ease in the day’s mild weather.

We’ve needed to clean Rachel’s bottom for over a month, and with our desire to get back to the states before, as a friend says, “they start naming the thunderstorms”, time was running out. We had a big moss garden growing down there, so we stopped at No Name Cay (N 26 44.610 W 077 17.978) (what a great name) and snorkeled down under the boat. We scrubbed and rubbed for about an hour and realized we were making hardly any progress. It would be way easier with proper dive gear and weights (which, of course, we don’t have) so we decided to hop up to the town of New Plymouth at Green Turtle Cay and find someone to clean it for us.

We also had another reason to go to New Plymouth. Our friend Bruce, a single-hander on ‘Zingara’ was celebrating his 65th birthday in a few days and was anchored out just off the town. Julie took it upon herself to organize a little party. Bruce then decided to leave the next day to start his trip back to the states. So Diva and Rachel headed to New Plymouth to help Bruce celebrate two days early. Julie baked a big pan of double chocolate brownies while we were underway so he would have a birthday cake.

We started the evening with happy hour at a local beach bar. The nephew of one of the bar owners was cleaning conch at the dock. Mark struck up a conversation with him and he agreed to clean Rachel’s bottom for $1.50 / ft – the going rate in Marsh Harbor and Hope Town is $4 / ft, so this was a real find! We then spent a fun evening out on the town, had dinner together, and then headed back to Rachel for dessert.

Diva and Zingara went their separate ways the next day and, since we’d be here for a few days waiting to get Rachel’s bottom scrubbed, we went into town on an exploratory mission. New Plymouth is another quaint, picturesque town but not as touristy as Hope Town. Like Hope Town, all the concrete streets are just wide enough for 2 golf carts, the preferred mode of transportation here. Each island in the Abacos seems to be different yet similar. The Abacos have more white native Bahamians, descendants of the loyalists who came here to escape the American Revolution.

We really enjoy just wandering around and chatting with the locals, listening to their accents, finding out what they think about, and how they live day to day. We are trying to get the most out of what may be our last Bahamian settlement before we make the crossing back across the Gulf Stream to the US. We may be delayed a bit by the westerly winds that have been predicted to start tomorrow and last through much of next week. We’ll keep a close eye on the weather and expect to head back to the US when the next good weather window presents itself. We’ll keep you apprised of our plans as they develop.

Worn Out

Location: Great Guana Cay, Abacos, Bahamas
Position: N26 40.237 W077 07.387

Update:
4/30/08: WE went to Pete’s Pub in Little Harbour, Abaco for lunch (N 26 20.885 W077 00.174). Sculptor / artist Randolph Johnston settled here with his family. They established a foundry in the 50s and still produce beautiful bronze castings. Randolph’s son Pete continues in the family mold, maintaining a gallery of his and other local artist’s work, and runs “Pete’s Pub”, an outdoor multi-level restaurant and bar. We then sailed up to Tilloo Cay (N26 28.454 W076 59.573) to anchor for the night to escape the rolling at Linyard Cay. We finally had the first good night’s rest in a few rockin’ rollin’ days.

5/1/08: We left Tilloo Cay and sailed to Marsh Harbour, famous cruising hang out in the Abacos (N26 32.833 W077 03.597). There we caught up on laundry, provisioned, and met up with friends.

Marsh Harbour is the largest town in the Abacos, and the third largest in the Bahamas after Nassau and Freeport. Upscale eateries, souvenir shops, multiple large grocery stores, marine supplies, a street vendor serving up an excellent conch salad, and loads of American tourists all contributed to a few somewhat over stimulating days for us.

Marsh Harbor is also one of the primary settings for the book “Out Island Doctor” by Evans Cottman, a great read that provides an excellent snapshot of life in the Bahamas in the 1940s and 50s. This guy was pretty amazing. He was a biology teacher in the Midwest who was struck by wanderlust and moved to the Bahamas. Because there were so few doctors here, then under British rule, the government created a special ‘Unqualified Medical Practitioner’ license to practice medicine allowing pretty much anything except major surgery. The book is an autobiography by Mr. Cottman who became one of these limited license practitioners and sailed around the islands providing medical care to those who would otherwise not have had any.

5/3/08: We moved over to Hope Town across the bay (N26 37.649 W077 03.053) where we picked up a mooring in the tiny harbour (which we can only enter at mid-to-high tide). This was followed by more eating out and drinking for 2 days and nights with old friends and new. Sheesh!

Hope Town was founded by Loyalists escaping the American Revolution and is one of the most picturesque settlements in the Bahamas. It’s also very touristy, which comes as a bit of a shock to us after having just spent 3 months in the Exumas, Long Island, and Eleuthera. We’ve heard the Abacos referred to as “Florida East” by several visitors and we can see why. Not that it’s bad, it’s just much more “Americanized” than the other parts of the Bahamas we’ve been visiting lately.

The bank in Hope Town is only open for a few hours one day a week. We figure the bank sign is probably one of the most photographed signs in the Bahamas – ‘bankers hours’ for sure! The town is actually pretty small, mostly consisting of a couple of parallel streets with about 6 or 8 lanes between them. Most of the houses are rentals or have the upstairs or downstairs available for rent.

One of the coolest things to see in Hope Town is one of the last operational kerosene-fueled lighthouses in the world. The 120 ft high red and white striped lighthouse was built by the British Imperial Lighthouse Service in 1863. It still uses a small pressurized kerosene-fueled mantle and a huge rotating Fresnel lens to send out a beam of light which can be seen for up to 20 miles away. The lens assembly floats on a bed of mercury – it’s great mass moved easily with the push of Mark’s fingertip – really quite impressive. The Elbow Cay Reef Lighthouse is one of only two (possibly the only one now) manually operated lighthouses left in the World. It has a counterweight mechanism that has to be hand cranked every few hours to maintain the 5-flash sequence of the light. It was a lot of fun to figure out how the counterweights, gears, lens mechanism, and fuel system all work, and we really enjoyed the 360 degree view from the top.


5/5/08: We leave Hope Town at 7am to get out of the harbour on a rising tide, and sail up to Fowl Cay where we drop the anchor for a few hours. We go snorkeling on the reefs there, eat lunch, and then head up to Great Guana Cay for the night. After several nights and days of “socializing” we are worn out and are glad when our friends on Diva say they would also like a quiet night. Aaah, finally - a lovely relaxing evening. Mark’s mahi mahi grilled with mango salsa and peace and quiet. We’re getting too old to socialize EVERY night. Though we do try to keep up…..

Worn Out

Location: Great Guana Cay, Abacos, Bahamas
Position: N26 40.237 W077 07.387

Update:
4/30/08: WE went to Pete’s Pub in Little Harbour, Abaco for lunch (N 26 20.885 W077 00.174). Sculptor / artist Randolph Johnston settled here with his family. They established a foundry in the 50s and still produce beautiful bronze castings. Randolph’s son Pete continues in the family mold, maintaining a gallery of his and other local artist’s work, and runs “Pete’s Pub”, an outdoor multi-level restaurant and bar. We then sailed up to Tilloo Cay (N26 28.454 W076 59.573) to anchor for the night to escape the rolling at Linyard Cay. We finally had the first good night’s rest in a few rockin’ rollin’ days.

5/1/08: We left Tilloo Cay and sailed to Marsh Harbour, famous cruising hang out in the Abacos (N26 32.833 W077 03.597). There we caught up on laundry, provisioned, and met up with friends.

Marsh Harbour is the largest town in the Abacos, and the third largest in the Bahamas after Nassau and Freeport. Upscale eateries, souvenir shops, multiple large grocery stores, marine supplies, a street vendor serving up an excellent conch salad, and loads of American tourists all contributed to a few somewhat over stimulating days for us.

Marsh Harbor is also one of the primary settings for the book “Out Island Doctor” by Evans Cottman, a great read that provides an excellent snapshot of life in the Bahamas in the 1940s and 50s. This guy was pretty amazing. He was a biology teacher in the Midwest who was struck by wanderlust and moved to the Bahamas. Because there were so few doctors here, then under British rule, the government created a special ‘Unqualified Medical Practitioner’ license to practice medicine allowing pretty much anything except major surgery. The book is an autobiography by Mr. Cottman who became one of these limited license practitioners and sailed around the islands providing medical care to those who would otherwise not have had any.

5/3/08: We moved over to Hope Town across the bay (N26 37.649 W077 03.053) where we picked up a mooring in the tiny harbour (which we can only enter at mid-to-high tide). This was followed by more eating out and drinking for 2 days and nights with old friends and new. Sheesh!

Hope Town was founded by Loyalists escaping the American Revolution and is one of the most picturesque settlements in the Bahamas. It’s also very touristy, which comes as a bit of a shock to us after having just spent 3 months in the Exumas, Long Island, and Eleuthera. We’ve heard the Abacos referred to as “Florida East” by several visitors and we can see why. Not that it’s bad, it’s just much more “Americanized” than the other parts of the Bahamas we’ve been visiting lately.

The bank in Hope Town is only open for a few hours one day a week. We figure the bank sign is probably one of the most photographed signs in the Bahamas – ‘bankers hours’ for sure! The town is actually pretty small, mostly consisting of a couple of parallel streets with about 6 or 8 lanes between them. Most of the houses are rentals or have the upstairs or downstairs available for rent.

One of the coolest things to see in Hope Town is one of the last operational kerosene-fueled lighthouses in the world. The 120 ft high red and white striped lighthouse was built by the British Imperial Lighthouse Service in 1863. It still uses a small pressurized kerosene-fueled mantle and a huge rotating Fresnel lens to send out a beam of light which can be seen for up to 20 miles away. The lens assembly floats on a bed of mercury – it’s great mass moved easily with the push of Mark’s fingertip – really quite impressive. The Elbow Cay Reef Lighthouse is one of only two (possibly the only one now) manually operated lighthouses left in the World. It has a counterweight mechanism that has to be hand cranked every few hours to maintain the 5-flash sequence of the light. It was a lot of fun to figure out how the counterweights, gears, lens mechanism, and fuel system all work, and we really enjoyed the 360 degree view from the top.


5/5/08: We leave Hope Town at 7am to get out of the harbour on a rising tide, and sail up to Fowl Cay where we drop the anchor for a few hours. We go snorkeling on the reefs there, eat lunch, and then head up to Great Guana Cay for the night. After several nights and days of “socializing” we are worn out and are glad when our friends on Diva say they would also like a quiet night. Aaah, finally - a lovely relaxing evening. Mark’s mahi mahi grilled with mango salsa and peace and quiet. We’re getting too old to socialize EVERY night. Though we do try to keep up…..

Fishing Fool

Location: Little Harbour, Abacos, Bahamas
Position: N26 22.299 W076 59.825

We leave Governors Harbour, Eleuthera on April 26 and sail a long day to Royal Island (N25 30.952 W076 50.525). This is a great spot to stop off on the way up to the Abacos. The anchorage provides nearly all-round protection and there’s room for several boats. We spend a day there waiting for the winds to die down a little and change from northerly to easterly, then head out to cross 50 miles of ocean between Royal Island and Great Abaco Island.

The seas are pretty rolly with 7-8 ft swells. It’s blowing around 20 knots, but it’s aft of beam (for you non sailors this means “from the side and just a little behind and about as good as it gets”) and we’re having a bumpy but good passage. It’s not too comfortable, but we’re making good time. Mark has his trolling line out, yet again trying to catch us some fresh fish. We sail and troll all day with nothing caught except seaweed.

About 2 miles from the cut to get into Little Harbour, Abacos Mark says “I’m gonna pull in the fishing line now so it doesn’t get in the way when we start handling the sails for the turn into the cut.”

He starts to pull it in. “Hey! I think I’ve got a fish on!”

He pulls it in further and sees the fish. “Hot damn! Get my gloves and the gaff! This thing is BIG!”

Julie puts the boat on auto pilot and leaps below to get the gaff, gloves and the cheap vodka. “Oh and don’t forget the camera!” The fish is absolutely beautiful, all blues and greens and yellows flashing in the sunlight. And it is BIG!

Mark gaffs it and wrestles it aboard the boat. We are right in the middle of changing the sails to negotiate the cut so we pour a little vodka in its gills to kill it and leave it on the side deck until we drop the anchor. Looking at it lying on the side deck as we enter the cut, Julie says “It’s BIG!”

It’s a dolphin, a.k.a mahi mahi. We drop the anchor, get settled, and Mark gets out the tape measure. We have no idea how much it weighs. By now the colours have faded but Julie’s right – it is BIG. 44 inches long, as a matter of fact!

Neither of us really know what to do with it since this is our first fish caught on Rachel. Julie runs down below and gets the chopping board, knife, knife sharpener, and the fishing book. It has great instructions on how to fillet a fish. So we lay the fish on the cutting board on the foredeck. It’s more than twice the size of the cutting board. It is BIG.

Mark’s on his knees on the foredeck, knife in hand. Julie’s sitting on the deck with the book reading the instructions on how to fillet out loud. This is followed by a bit of discussion as to the interpretation of the instructions. But, somehow, within 30 minutes Mark manages to have that sucker all gutted, skinned, and filleted and ready to go. We take it down below and wash the fillets, cut them into nice sized steaks and bag and freeze most of it. Then we clean up the mess on the deck. That’s BIG, too.

We had planned on a simple dinner after our long passage but what can you do? It’s our first catch and it’s about as fresh as we’re ever likely to get it, so we make the effort.

If you’ve never had a candle lit dinner consisting of really, really fresh blackened mahi mahi, Arabian squash casserole, and tossed salad, with a lovely bottle of wine in the cockpit of a sailboat in paradise as the sun sets over the ocean, our hearts go out to you.

All the while we’re eating it, though, we’re remembering how stunningly beautiful the fish was when it was still alive in the water. It sure tastes good, though ……

Sad but sated