The Spring Migration North

The two best sounds on a boat are when the engine goes on (it starts when the key turns) and the engine goes off (you can sail instead of motor).  We have been experiencing a few problems with the former during the past couple of weeks.  Burt worries the starter battery is dying, but sometimes it does work.  Burt worries that electrical connections are corroding so he cleans and polishes many connections in the complicated system.  We still have issues, but fortunately our electrical system has redundancy and he is able to reconfigure it in different ways until we can limp home to the States.  During one “reconfiguration” we manage to blow up the solar panel regulator, so we no longer can charge with solar power.  But, not to worry as we still have a generator/battery charger, two alternators, and wind power. A new regulator will be awaiting us in St. Augustine.  Then one alternator stops working.  It is getting a bit tenser on board.  We are able to start the engine to make it through the channel into St. Augustine and pull up to the fuel dock to refuel.  When we try to start the engine to leave for our mooring, it won’t start, no way, no how.  We are taking up valuable room at the fuel dock, boats are queuing up to fuel, and we are frantically trying to diagnose the situation.  With kibitzing from the marina personnel and a phone call to a local diesel repair guy, we determine our starter has died.  We carry a spare on board, so Burt changes it out feeling very much under pressure as the dock hands walk by frequently asking how things are going.  Miracles do happen, and several hours later we pull off the dock and head to our mooring.  I don’t think we will be missed at the fuel dock. For weeks we have dealt with this issue, losing our way in the complexity of the boat’s electrical system and not checking out simpler solutions – such is the way with boats.  During our six day stay, Burt replaces the solar regulator, re-draws a schematic of the electrical system, and pulls out yards of old and unnecessary wiring.  We are whole again.

The remainder of our stay in St. Augustine is most enjoyable.  We indulge in full-fledged grocery stores, marine stores, and hardware stores, all accessible with a cruiser’s shuttle service. We have many meals out with fellow cruisers as St. Augustine has a myriad of interesting restaurants to explore.  

Dinner out with cruising friends Debby and Fred from Early Out and Fran and Harry from Sirius - St. Augustine is always a very social place.

And we play tourist, biking around St. Augustine and visiting a few attractions.  First stop is Memorial Presbyterian Church, a beautiful church built in 364 days to memorialize one of Henry Flagler’s daughters who had died.  It is a fine example of the Spanish influenced architecture that infiltrates so much of St. Augustine. 

Beside the main structure is a charming prayer garden.

The exterior detail work in brick and stucco, the elaborate hand carved wood interior, and stained glass windows depicting the Apostles Creed are testament to Flagler’s grief.

Carved stone, decorative brick work, and tiles demonstrate the Spanish influence

The interior with an elaborately carved wooden screen hiding the organ and extensive rows of pipes.

Another day we visit El Galeon, a Spanish built replica of a 16^th century Spanish Galleon that would have plied these waters.   

El Galeon at the dock in St. Augustine.

St. Augustine is considered its North American home port so it is often here.  The crew is comprised a young Spanish students who take a semester or year off from school to sail a tall ship.  Their English is passible, but they have difficulty explaining some of the technical aspects that so intrigue Burt.  We wander through the ship and notice that much of the interior is actually re-enforced with fiberglass that is crudely disguised behind wood paneling.  The rigging seems far more authentic and complicated.   

A complicated array of halyards.

This ship will be participating in the international tall ship events this summer on the Great Lakes.

We find a weather window to depart St. Augustine and make a 48 hour passage in the ocean to Southport, North Carolina. There isn’t much wind to begin with so we motor sail in benign seas. Long passages at sea are not always as boring as one might think.  During this trip we are often accompanied by playful dolphins.  

Dolphins playing in our bow wake many miles offshore.

 Even fifty miles offshore, we see several large sea turtles swimming westward; probably we are witnessing the beginning of the nesting season.  

A poor picture of a sea turtle - they are always hard to photograph.  This one has many barnacles on its back.

And this trip we also have a hitchhiker on board.  A little bird makes Exuberant a resting spot on its migration north.   

After a bit of a respite, it was off to who knows where.

Sunrise at sea.

Just north of Charleston, we begin to sense a change in the weather. What should have been mild northwest winds and seas goes directly on our nose and thunderstorms begin to form around us.  It gets uncomfortable and a bit tense as we dodge squalls, so we are delighted to head into the Cape Fear River at daybreak although we continue to worry about our buddy boat which is heading further up the coast to Beaufort, NC.  Later we hear they have arrived safely and are also complaining about the unpleasant conditions.

We have never been in Southport before although friends all tout its virtues – a small fishing village that has become gentrified.  We enjoy biking through the town and along the waterfront, typical of Carolina low country with marsh habitat and wandering waterways behind barrier islands.  

The view across to the barrier island.

 We treat ourselves to dinners out at the cute fish houses along the waterfront.  But most important, we make ample use of our dock as the last time we were at a dock with water and electricity was back in early October.  The boat is filthy.  The cockpit grate is raised to reveal the history of many happy hours, all molding away.  The cockpit cushions have mildew forming in the seams. The deck is stained by bird droppings and rusting stainless.  The hull is glazed with salt accumulations.  We put in two days of hard labor which only makes a dent in the mess.

We are trying to slow down our trip northward as the weather in the Chesapeake is unseasonably cold.  Our next stop is Wrightsville Beach, a mere twenty miles further up the ICW, and another new destination for us. It is a beach resort town with a nice protected anchorage on the backside.  We take bikes ashore for a trip to the grocery and West Marine store.  Later we ride through the town and along the shoreline.  The beach extends as far as the eye can see, stopping only at the Masonboro Inlet to the south where we will depart the next day.  We find a lovely restaurant on a pier at the south end of the beach and enjoy linner (a combination of lunch and dinner) watching the few brave swimmers and surfers in the cool, pre-season waters.

Looking south towards Masonboro Inlet

At first light, we exit Masonboro and head northeast toward Beaufort, NC. The wind is light as we initially motorsail with rolling waves hitting us on the beam, again, not a particularly comfortable point of sail.  As the wind builds we find our prop is making unpleasant noises and vibrations, requiring us to either sail very slowly downwind, or constantly adjust RPM’s to minimize the vibrations – another issue that will need to be addressed once we reach Annapolis.  When we finally pull into Beaufort at dusk, we exhaustedly drop anchor near the entrance and give thanks we are done with ocean passages for the foreseeable future. It is a quick trip the next morning up to Oriental, Exuberant’s original home port and a favorite stop for us. 

More bad weather is approaching so we sail another forty miles to Ocracoke Island on the Outer Banks and the National Park there that has very inexpensive docks adjacent to the charming town.  We don’t know how long we will stay as with the storms comes another round of unseasonably cold weather.  We have electricity so we will have heat, but up in the Chesapeake it is ten degrees colder.  As it works out, we spend nine days at the dock.  When conditions permit, we continue our semi-annual clean up.  Burt polishes the stainless and finishes cleaning the hull and deck.  He waxes the fiberglass on the deck and cabin top.  Meanwhile, I empty all the interior storage areas, cleaning and inventorying the contents in preparation for reprovisioning in Annapolis.  Walls, louvers, and ceilings are washed with vinegar to prevent mildew, a constant issue on boats. A few times we take a break, biking through the town, enjoying a few meals out at several surprisingly good restaurants, and one day we even venture out to the beach where storm produced waves pound the shoreline.  

Endless dunes and beach at Ocracoke Island, located on the south end of the Outer Banks.

It is still off season, and we have the beach to ourselves as few people have invaded this summer vacation spot. 

At this point we have a choice.  We can back-track to the ICW and travel the remainder of the way to Norfolk on the waterway or we can continue north through Pamlico Sound and avoid some tedious miles.  Typically the latter is considered a shoal draft route only, but friends have just make this trip and claim we can get through with our 7 foot draft if we proceed carefully and follow some very specific instructions.  Bravery wins out, and we head for Manteo on Roanoke Island.  After some open water sailing we enter a twelve mile long channel that will be very unforgiving if we wander off track.  An individual at our dock in Ocracoke claims we won’t make it, but nine miles into the channel he is aground and we are chugging happily along to our destination, the village of Manteo. The abrupt turn into the Manteo’s channel is the most challenging portion, and we execute the turn perfectly, entering the harbor with six spare inches under our keel.

Our efforts are well worth it.  Manteo is charming.  Once a fishing village, it is now more upscale but still shows its roots.   

A boat shed turned Nautical Museum sits on the shoreline near our dock.

Our dock in the heart of town gives us access to the village and a bike trail that heads four miles further north to a National Park site. Do the names Roanoke Island, Sir Walter Raleigh, and Virginia Dare ring a bell?  It was at this spot that the English built their first settlement in the New World and Virginia Dare was the first English child born in the Americas.  The settlement was short lived, and its disappearance shrouded in the mystery of the Lost Colony, but archaeological excavations and artifacts on display in the park museum document its existence. 

The earthworks at Ft. Raleigh after reconstruction by archeologists.

 

Historical marker explaining the history and significance of Roanoke Island

A replica of the boat that brought the settlers to Roanoke Island - it's much, much smaller than El Galeon

Nearby are the Elizabethan Gardens, a large tract of waterfront land maintained by the Garden Clubs of North Carolina, which illustrate typical garden design of the Elizabethan age, albeit with plantings suitable for the Carolinas.   

Beautiful wrought iron gate gives a glimpse into the gardens.

We enjoy strolling through the many pathways, admiring the garden design and sculptures, and learning about low country vegetation.  

One of the formal gardens with boxwood hedges, crepe myrtle trees, sculpture, and fountain.

I find the patterns in the entwined branches of the crepe myrtle to be intriguing.

 Dinner out in a village pub makes a delightful end to a delightful Mother’s Day on Roanoke Island.

The next morning we are challenged by another channel around the north end of the island.  Named Six Foot Channel, the shallowest we see is 8 feet, and that is only for a few miles. As luck would have it, just as we leave our dock, the chartplotter goes on the blink.  We really need its guidance to get through the next couple of hours.  With some quick thinking, we realize our tablet has some basic chartplotting capabilities, so we fire that up although it is difficult to use in the daylight of the cockpit. But, the real challenge is avoiding the many crab traps distributed through the area in no logical manner.  Unlike Maine lobster pots, these buoys are dark colors and often are floating low in the water.  And we have fog to make things even worse.  For several hours we proceed slowly, straining our eyes to avoid any entanglement. An audible sigh of relief can be heard when we reach open water.  We anchor in a remote area several miles north of the Albemarle Sound, leaving us about fifty miles left on the ICW to reach Norfolk.

Our final stop before leaving the ICW is the town of Great Bridge, actually a suburb of the Portsmouth/Norfolk area. Just south of Great Bridge we encounter five F-18 out of the nearby naval air station, running landing drills.  They swoop over our mast at low altitude as they approach the runway.  The noise is deafening; the sight, awesome.  

Wouldn't want to be onthe wrong side of these guys.

There are few boats stopping in Great Bridge so we ignore the sign saying 24 hour maximum tie-ups at the free dock wall and stay two nights, allowing time to run errands and grocery shop.  Besides, the further north we go, the colder it gets, and we’re trying to find excuses to slow down.  Finally we depart for Norfolk.  It is only eleven miles but it seems to take forever as we have to pass through a lock, bridge construction limits passage opportunities in other locations, and every rail bridge we encounter is closed for slow moving trains. It’s only eleven miles but it takes over a half a day – such is the way in this neck of the woods. It is an interesting eleven miles though, as we pass ship yards with dry docked naval boats, ocean freighters employing huge gantry cranes to unload their containers, and barge traffic from every direction.

As we approach Mile 0 of the ICW we find a dock available on the Portsmouth side of the river in a niche that is used as a ferry stop.  We tie up with only one other boat around. A two day respite gives us an opportunity to explore Norfolk.  For $.75 each way, we can board the ferry with our bikes to head across the Elizabeth River to Norfolk.  We wander along the waterfront bike path, past the Battleship Wisconsin docked by the Nautilus Museum, 

Looking at the bow of this massive battleship.

past the Chinese Pagoda donated by Taiwan to the citizens of Norfolk, 

Strange juxtaposition of the Wisconsin superstructure with the intricate designs of the pagoda.

and through the restored Freemason neighborhood, where nineteenth century homes and townhouses and have brought back to their initial splendor. We even stop at an upscale mall to pick up a few items.

But, it is time to bite the bullet and head into the Chesapeake despite the cold temperatures. We make a long hop up to Reedville on the western shore just south of the Potomac River for a first time visit.  The sheltered harbor will provide a secure anchorage for yet another serious front bearing down on us. Nestled between the quaint town and lovely homes with lawns that slope down to the water’s edge, we remain comfortable through a stormy, windy night. Reedville is famous for its fishing industry. You will never eat any of the fish caught and processed here in a recognizable form, but you will consume the bi-products. 150 foot long fishing boats use seine netting to capture menhaden that is processed into the fish meal and fish oil found in many commonplace product today.  In fact, the port of Reedville receives the second largest tonnage of fish in the United States following a port in Alaska.  Fish by-products is a lucrative market providing the residents of former and current times with prosperity unlike any other village along the shores of the Chesapeake.  The modern shore side factory, the huge fleet of large fishing boats, and the lovely homes, some dating back over a hundred years, testify to this.  

A lovely restored  Victorian home along Reedville's main street.

 We learn more about the fishing industry at a local museum on the shores of one of the town creeks.

The remains of a log canoe with two restored Chesapeake work boats in the distance at the Reedville Fishing Museum.

Another day battling north winds gets us to Solomons Island where we drop the hook and stay put on the boat – it is cool and dreary on shore.  The next day we arrive in Annapolis with fog and rain.  We have no trouble finding an empty mooring as all but two are unoccupied.  This cold spring has been caused by a stationary weather feature along the North Carolina/Virginia boarder that channels storms along Cape Hattaras and cold, rainy weather northwards.  In fact, it is actually warmer and sunnier in Maine than here in Annapolis. In the few days we have been here, we have had just 36 hours of decent weather. Fifty some degrees and rain on a boat without shoreside electricity can be pretty chilling. But, there is hope. In the coming week, we may finally see a return to more seasonable weather.  We just hope this time the prediction is correct.  

So Many Shades of Blue – Part 2

We finally get some reasonable wind and seas after a week of frontal passages, giving us the opportunity to leave George Town, pop out into the Exuma Sound, and start making tracks up the chain of small cays. And what a sail it is with 15 knots of wind just aft of the beam and six foot rolling seas.  We make great time, take an easy cut on to the Exuma Banks to the west, and anchor in the shadow of one of the cays.  The next morning it is a short hop up to Blackpoint, a settlement of about 200 people, one of the few in the Exumas.  

Cruising boats gather in the harbor off Blackpoint.

Well, this is Easter weekend, and the population is a bit more than 200.  The Lady Frances, an inter-island freighter captained by a Blackpoint native, has brought hordes of people from Nassau who have ties to the settlement.   

The Lady Frances moored at the Government Dock

Traditionally, in the Family Islands, those people who have re-located to the larger cities of Nassau and Freeport, return to their heritage homes for holidays.  And we have arrived just in time to join in the festivities. 

Good Friday is a quieter day with many attending lengthy church services, so we take the opportunity to do some exploring.  On shore we find several Bahamian C class sloops in various stages of dis-repair.  

A coat of paint later, these sloops could win races.

 One local is promoting boat building and racing in the settlement, and we often find him rebuilding one of the sloops using rudimentary tools and scrape materials.  

While this sloop is being redesigned and rebuilt in the backyard.

 We dinghy over to the deep beach at the head of the harbor and walk a short distance to the ocean side beaches.  Rock formations add interest to the shoreline, and waves from the building wind crash against the beach. 

Rock, sand and water meet on the shore of Exuma Sound.

But the wind and waves are up, providing some spectacular surf.

The real excitement begins the following afternoon.  The festival committee has arranged for a basketball game between the local high school students and the students from Staniel Cay, about five miles away.  Actually they are all classmates in Nassau where students are sent after grade 8. They may be friends, but the competition is fierce and considering the primitive court in front of the elementary school, of fairly high quality.  Lights have been set up to assuage the descending dusk, and play by play along with half time music blares from a pick up truck with a sound system and DJ in the back.   At the last second the boys from Blackpoint pull out a victory keeping the enthusiastic audience happy. 

The teams walk on to the court - there were even several referees.

Following the game there is a parade the length (less than a mile) of Blackpoint’s only paved road.  The parade is short but intense, as the sound system pick up leads a group of very decked out high school girls dancing down the way.  But the high point occurs back at the school basketball court where the “Flame Dancing” girls from Nassau (probably also locals in school in the big city) put on a show of flaming batons and other flammable accessories, fire breathing, and very seductive dancing.  I doubt we’d ever see anything like this in an American high school!   

Flame dancing - not for the faint of heart.

At the conclusion, the crowd heads off to several local watering holes, but we return to the boat and fall asleep to more loud music from shore.  The next day, Easter Sunday, mellow returns, people head to church, and the streets are empty.  As we often say, “Only in the Bahamas”!

We depart for Staniel Cay just a short hop north and work our way into the anchorage filled with mega-yachts. 

Two of the biggest yachts anchored outside of the general anchorage due to their deep draft.

This is a popular destination for large charter boats out of Nassau as the Staniel Cay Yacht Club offers upscale shore side amenities.  (In fact, it is probably the one resort we would recommend for vacationers as its waterfront villas all come with small power boats for exploring the surrounding areas.) We find it a bit too pretentious for our tastes, but a short stop is always fun.  We take time to snorkel the grotto that was featured in the James Bond movie “Thunderball”.  It is full of tropical fish and along the outside is a beautiful coral garden with many colorful sponges and soft corals.  Afterwards we head over to the yacht club for a drink on the deck and overview of the mega yachts at the docks and their speedy tenders which sometimes are larger than our boat.

From Staniel, we head just a bit north to the west side of Pipe Cay where we anchor in a mild swell.  Usually there is too much surge to anchor here, but today we are lucky.  We take the dinghy past Pipe Cay and explore the archipelago of nearby cays and sand bores.  It is a spectacular area with watercolors ranging from deep sapphire to vivid turquoise.  Many of the islands are private and host lovely island retreats.  Since our last visit a few new homes have been built sporting interesting architecture. 

We thought this onion topped thatched gazebo was especially attractive.

From the Pipe Creek area we dinghy north to Compass Cay, home to a marina that hosts large yachts, and home to a sizable school of tame nurse sharks.  This is quite an attraction for tour boats originating from George Town along with private individuals such as ourselves.  The sharks love to slither up on the water level dock and beg for treats.

Besides the food, they really like to have their heads scratched.

Today’s chum consists of fish scrapes, pork chops, and frozen shrimp.  They seem more like puppies than man-eaters.  I take a turn in the water with them as the water is chummed and find it a bit disconcerting to have sharks bumping up against me, vying for snacks.  

I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable with so many sharks milling around me!

 If this sounds over the top, just remember,the nurse sharks have no significant teeth and suck in their food rather than biting it. After all that excitement we hike across the cay to the sublime Horseshoe Beach on the ocean side. We share this mile long, pure sand crescent beach with only two other people.  The water is warm and so inviting.

Just another perfect beach in the Exumas.

Another series of fronts is descending, and we need to find a safe harbor.  Cambridge Cay is just a few miles further north and offers secure moorings with wave protection from all directions.  Due to our deep draft we must negotiate an inlet out into Exuma Sound and then another inlet into the harbor at Cambridge.  It is tricky navigating in the building wind, and we are happy to arrive and find a mooring available. 

Looking out over the mooring field at Cambridge Cay before the weather begins to deteriorate.

We will stay here for several days to ride out the storms and in periods of calm have the opportunity to do some snorkeling at several sites within Exuma Land and Sea Park. With some coaching from a marine biologist friend and fellow cruiser, we begin to be able to identify some elusive Christmas tree worms within the coral heads.

Three days later, once the winds begin to abate, we leave Cambridge Cay and cross Exuma Sound over to Eleuthera Island.  We are sailing in 20 knots of wind with six foot seas, but it is a joy ride with the wind over the beam. Eight hours later we arrive at our destination, Governor’s Harbor.  Once the original capital of the Bahamas, the town retains much of its colonial charm. 

The anchorage at Governor's Harbor with the village towards the right.

And a glimpse of Cupid's Cay, the site of the original capital from the new town.

We walk the flower bedecked streets, explore the well maintained local churches and library, and enjoy dinner out at a lovely café with our friends from R Kallista.

Dinner at the Buccaneer Club

At noon the following day, we depart Governor’s Harbor for Current Cut at the north end of Eleuthera.  Here timing is everything as the cut sees up to five knots of current during tidal changes.  We hope to transit the pass at high tide slack, but figuring out slack given the lack of accurate tide tables in the Bahamas is a trick.  As it works out, we go through with about two knots of positive current and drop anchor for the night just around the corner.  

It’s a short night, though, as the alarm goes off to allow a 4 am departure from Eleuthera to the Abacos.  Wind and waves build the further north we go, leaving us with an uncomfortable passage, but arriving in sheltered water mid-afternoon.  The weather continues to deteriorate as we make a mad dash up the Sea of Abaco, arriving at the channel into Hope Town harbor just before high tide.  We’ve already bumped the bottom once in a place our where our chart plotter was incorrect.  The passage into Hope Town is very shallow, and at one point we only have two inches under the keel, but the challenge pays off as our friends have found a mooring for themselves and also reserved one for us.  We breathe a sigh of relief as during the next week we will see a parade of fronts roll through. Stress goes away when you are in a safe harbor.

The crowded mooring field at Hope Town with the iconic lighthouse in the distance.

Besides providing safe harbor, Hope Town is a delightful place to spend a week.  The neat and tidy town filled with small colorful cottages and larger second homes contrasts greatly with what we see in the rest of the Bahamas.  Flowers cascade over picket fences, 

Many colors of bougainvillea line the streets.

This pocket garden is tucked in along a side street.

cafes and resorts cater to visitors, 

This woodpecker and its mate have made a home in a tree just outside the railing of the local coffee shop. They attracted  a lot of attention but never left the trunk.

and crowning it all is the historic lighthouse.  Everyone who visits seems to climb the lighthouse,

The view from the lighthouse across the harbor

but this year we have arranged to accompany the lighthouse keeper in the evening to witness the lighting of the lamp.  You see, this is the last remaining non-automated lighthouse in the world.  Elvis has been the keeper for over twenty years, and he takes great pride in explaining the historic significance and mechanical operation of the light. First, the curtains shielding the Fresnel lens are removed.  If the lens is not shielded during daylight there is a risk the focused beams of sunlight would ignite surrounding homes and fields.  We watch in awe as he lights the pressurized kerosene lamp, minutely adjusting the flame until it meets his specifications. 

Elvis concentrates on adjusting the flame to the perfect intensity.

We take turns cranking the weights up until the assembly begins to rotate.  This must be done every two hours throughout the night.  That night as we gaze up from our boat at the rotating light, we have a better understanding of its significance.   We spend the rest of our stay biking around Elbow Cay and Hope Town proper, enjoying meals out at a variety of restaurants and cafes, and walking the lovely pink sand beaches.

With a prospect of better weather we leave Hope Town and head through the Whale Passage, which can be tricky or outright dangerous in some weather conditions, and head to Green Turtle Cay.  We have decided to make a dash back to the States in the upcoming weather window.  The timing allows us to spend a day at Green Turtle, so we decide to rent a golf cart to do some exploring. We rendezvous with several boats which are moored within the Green Turtle harbors for lunch at a local restaurant.  Afterwards, we drive the entire network of island roads, checking out several resort/marinas and a multitude of lovely beaches. 

Someone had a sense of humor with this sign "To da beach".

Strolling along this ocean side beach, I found a group of live conchs in a sea grass bed.

This conch gives me "the look" with his beady eyes - put me back in my grassy bed !

While not as developed as Hope Town, it exhibits the same tidiness and vegetation we appreciate. 

The next morning we begin our passage home, sailing across the Little Bahama banks in a spritely breeze and arriving at the uninhabited Great Sale Cay with almost forty other boats.  This is the hopping off point for a Gulf Stream crossing and the pent up demand for a weather window is proven by the crowded anchorage.  We get a few hours’ sleep, rising at 2 am to a building wind.  We still have six hours to go on the banks before dropping off into the deep water where one begins to feel the effects of the Gulf Stream. It doesn’t take long before we see our speed over the ground begin to increase.  At the same time, the seas begin to build. We inch our way westward, searching for increased speed and by the time we approach the west wall of the stream we are seeing speeds approaching twelve knots.  Unfortunately, simultaneously, we experience wave trains coming from two different directions and wave height increasing to six to eight feet with three second intervals. Although the boat is handling the conditions safely, it has gotten extremely uncomfortable for us, and we make the decision to exit the Gulf Stream at the latitude of Cape Canaveral.  Even that is a difficult task as the current is so strong it doesn’t allow much progress westward.  Once we do cross over the west wall of the Stream, the seas calm immediately, and we have an easy remainder of the passage into St. Augustine where our reserved mooring awaits us.

This has been our most difficult visit to the Bahamas since we began cruising.  El Nino has had a dramatic impact on the weather, allowing strong fronts to reach into the tropical water as frequently as every day.  Finding safe harbor under these conditions is a challenge and after a while, one become tired of howling winds. But, we have enjoyed some excellent sailing and realize the beautiful beaches and multi-hued waters more than make up for our struggles. Short as our visit was, we have no regrets with our decision to cruise these magnificent waters. But, curses on El Nino!