Goooood Morning!

Our stay in Charleston was wonderful, as usual.  Emily picked us up, and we all had a tasty dinner at Leon’s.  The eclectic menu featured several Clam apps, grilled Oysters, shrimp wraps, some interesting salads, and really good fried chicken, among other things.  I’d definitely go there again.  The next morning after church, we met Em for breakfast at The Queen Street Grocery.  Cam and Evan came over at 17h00, and we headed to Minero’s for Mexican food.  Killer!  We could barely waddle down the stairs and out the front door.  I should know better than to try and run with the big dogs.  C & E are 6’5” and 6’7”, respectively, play on about 5 soccer teams between them, and work out like mad dogs while they’re not fighting fires for the Charleston Fire Department.  Yeah, they can eat.  The Admiral had an appointment for a cut & color on Monday morning, so after dropping her off at the salon (Lordis Aveda Salon, for you Ladies), I walked through the back streets to the Girl.  Wax on, wax off for the next 5 hours while Suz got coiffed and clothing shopped for our upcoming European vacation.

Tuesday morning, we were off the dock by around 07h00 to take advantage of the slack water.  Getting out of the marina was a breeze (I had been up since 05h00, concerned about the current).  Unfortunately, we couldn’t take advantage of the ebbing tide as our first bridge (the Ben Sawyer) didn’t open until 09h00, and was only 6 miles away.  As we drifted downriver with the current, we spotted a Krogen Express at Charleston’s Megadock.  As we entered the Intracoastal Waterway behind Sullivan’s Island, unspoken excitement was mounting.  We had never traversed this section of the ICW aboard Alizann, but were well familiar with the area, as we have vacationed on the Isle of Palms for the past 30 summers (excluding last year, when we couldn’t make it back from Newfoundland).  Summer beach vacation with Suzanne’s family starts with the gang meeting at Morgan Creek Grill before taking possession of the beach house.  This year, we got pictures of the Grill from the water.

The rest of the trip to Georgetown was uneventful.  The currents were favorable most of the way, and we made good time.  Around the halfway mark, we were passed by “Viewfinder”, the Krogen Express from Chucktown.  We got a couple sips of diesel at the fuel dock in Georgetown, then moved over to our spot on the face dock.  Well……….we were around 12 feet longer than the space on the el, so we pulled out into the current, changed fenders and lines, did a 180 and backed in.  That way, our bow hung over, and our stern was secure.  Once tied up, the guy that was docked on the other leg of the el came over.  He was concerned that we were blocking him in, but felt better when I told him that we’d be leaving before daybreak.  Meanwhile, Trig and Alice from “Viewfinder” came over and introduced themselves.  Half an hour later, they were onboard with us for sips and chats.  They have a second home on Bald Head Island where we were headed, so we agreed to get together there.

It was like a new experience exiting Winyah Bay to the Atlantic the next morning, as the last and only time we were through here, the visibility was zero due to heavy fog.  As the sun burned off the morning mist, our trusty little ship turned North for a leisurely cruise to Bald Head Island, North Carolina.  Twelve hours and 85 nautical miles after our departure, we were safely tied at our “home away from home”, slip A-3 at Bald Head Marina.  Trig and Alice, having arrived 40 minutes earlier on their faster boat did the honors, handling our lines.  The Dockmaster told us that our friend, Betty, who has a home here would be arriving on “Lili” the following morning, and that 3 more Krogens would be here by early evening.  Yay!  Mini rendezvous.  Alice invited us to their home for sips the next evening, and Trig told us that he’d leave a golf cart at the marina for our use while on the island.  That’s boaters!  After sleeping in, we grabbed the cart and tooled to the other end of the island, where we walked the beach at Cape Fear.  After hitting the grocery, I’m standing on the dock talking to Betty, Jill & Diane, who have just returned from the Bahamas.  Suz walks up to me and quietly says “Marty, I need you to look at something”.  My stomach is now floppin’, ‘cause that’s how she ALWAYS leads in to bad news.  Back on the Girl, she leads me to the storage area under the settee, where we store our staples and canned goods.  OMG!  It smells like something died in there.  I thought she’d produce a dead mouse.  As it turned out, there was a thin film of liquid in the bottom of the compartment that had wicked up through all the contents.  Boxes, and bags of pasta, flour, rice, and etc. were sodden.  The labels on all the cans were wet and falling off.  Everything out, we thought that the culprit was a box of chicken broth.  We pitched all the wet boxes and bags, and marked each can with a magic marker, then started working on the (gag, gag) smell.  We thought that we’d better check the next compartment to the aft, just ‘cause.   #$%@!!  Even wetter than the first, with similar contents.  Repeat performance.  Next compartment back.  No food, but a heater/blower is housed there.  This one had standing water.  AND…. the culprit.  The PVC plastic fitting for our shore water inlet comes into this space, and had a stress fracture in it, sending out a fine mist of water.  (By the way, this is the same part that failed aboard “Idyll Time”, flooding Jeff & Susie’s pilothouse several months earlier).  The next compartment over contains the subwoofer for our stereo, and multiple keyboards, mouses, and assorted computer spare parts.  It was dry.  Working forward from the first wet compartment, the next was just slightly wet.  Judging by the quantity of mold, we’re thinkin’ that it must have been leaking for a week or so.  Suz had been in there a little over a week previously, and hadn’t noticed a problem.  The good news was that I had a spare part onboard, after already having replaced ours once before.  Okay, there seems to be a pattern here.  Let’s not repeat the behavior.  The new regulator is in, but that’s not the end of it.  I get online, and fail to find a stouter (more stout?) water inlet, but I have some thoughts about a design which will be more robust.  I’ll hit the plumbing supply stores this summer, and see what I can fabricate.  In the meantime, we’ll watch this one like a hawk.

Back to Bald Head.  We’re having sips at Alice & Trig’s beautiful home, and the sky is darkening.  The wind picks up, and there’s lightning in the distance, so Trig and I head out to the deck to stow the patio furniture.  Here comes the first of the 3 Krogens.  By now, the marina is closed, and as they beat past us through the whitecaps, we realize that there’ll be no help for them at the marina.  We pile into the golf carts and make it to the marina just as they’re getting to the docks.  Lisa and Mark, aboard “Tapestry”, Dave and Judy, on “Evergreen”, and Roberto and Maria, “Gratitude”, had just completed an overnight run from Fernandina Beach, and were rightfully proud, although pooped.  After going back to the house, we wrapped up Happy Hour, then went back to the marina to join the gang at “Mojo’s”, for dinner.  Suz and I enjoyed their “travel tales”, then returned to the Girl, where the contents of the compartments were still strewn about, drying and destinking.  We spent the next day putting things back together, and joined the Fernandina crew for dinner at Delphinas restaurant near the marina.

This morning, the 14^th, we were off the dock at 05h15.  As we bucked the tide and current up the Cape Fear River, the fog moved in.  By the time that we got to Snow’s Cut, which is scary in full daylight, we had zero/zero visibility.  To make matters worse, the sun was glaring through the thick ground fog, effectively making me “snow blind”.  Suz read the chart plotter, doing the “left, “right, left, right” thing, while I drove, staring into the whiteness.  Good, clean fun.  We exited the ICW at Wrightsville Beach, and are now in the Atlantic under sunny skies, with a 3-foot swell on our beam.  We’ll reenter the ICW at Morehead City this evening to cross the Pamlico Sound the next day or so.

-Until Then

Good Day!

In the morning, we moved up to the anchorage off of Tahiti Beach.  On the way over, we were hailed on the VHF by “Casablanca.” They told us that they were on a 58’ Krogen anchored off the beach, had been following our blog, and wanted to get together.  Sounded like a plan.  They were headed in to Hope Town for the day, but would we be in the anchorage tomorrow?  Yep.  “C’mon over to Alizann for sips at 5:30?”  The next morning, Fred and Carolyn came by and introduced themselves, and asked if we wanted to join them for lunch on shore.  We declined, because we were having a severe hankerin’ for the barbeque at Papa Nasty’s.  In fact, I’d been thinking about a stop here since last year (Yeah, it’s that good).  We dropped the tender in, and headed to our secret little docking spot in the corner of White Sound, and hiked up to the trailer that housed Papa’s.  It was boarded up tight as a drum-no sign of activity.  Boo!  We decided to assuage our disappointment by walking up to the Blue store and buying some homemade ice cream from the guy that sits outside the door there.  Fresh Mango-Yum.  We also found out that Papa had experienced some health problems that caused him to have to go to the States, forcing him to close up shop.  Later, turned out that he didn’t have to go, but he had already closed.  At any rate, that’s the story as it was told to us.  We got back to the dink and cruised over to Lubbers, where we had a nice lunch at “Cracker P’s”, highlighted by their famous hot fish dip.  After lunch, we motored over to Tahiti Beach, a sand spit that bares at any tide state other than high, where we joined the gang that was sunning there.  That evening, we were joined by Fred and Carolyn, and found out that they were on their third Krogen, each one larger than the previous.  We shared cruising stories, and found that they had owned one of their boats in the Pacific Northwest.  This really whetted our appetites for new adventures, and before the night was over, they had given us all of their charts for the west coast, from Mexico to Desolation Sound.  We were only able to round up a few charts and guidebooks for Maine, where F&C would be heading this summer, to return the favor.

28 April.  Great Guana Cay, and Nipper’s beach Bar was our next destination.  Let’s just say that one of us had too much fun at the bar.  Suz paid the bill, and got us a ride back to the tender by some nice folks coming by in their golf cart.  Manjack Cay, 3 hours away, was our next stop.  We had a secret spot over on the next little cay where we had found a cache of Sea Biscuits the year before.  But, when we motored over in the tender, we found that “our spot” wasn’t so secret any more.  There was a makeshift awning and a firepit on the shore, and no Sea Biscuits in the eel grass.  Undeterred, we motored on.  Suzanne scoped out the bottom with our “look bucket” (a 5-gallon pail that I had cut the bottom out of, replacing it with clear plexiglass).  We found a new secret spot, and within 45 minutes, had collected over 20 dead Sea Biscuits which Suz would scrub, bleach, and present as treasures to her friends.

On the 30^th, we had a weather window which would allow us to cross back to the States.  We had hoped for a 3-day window, which would allow us to cross from the Bahamas to North Carolina, but it looked like 2 was all we’d get before the wind and seas got up again.  We decided that Fernandina Beach, on Amelia Island, would be a good port of entry, so at 07h00 we hauled anchor in the Bahamas for the last time this season.  Shortly after we got underway, we heard the sailing vessel, “Kite”, on the VHF.  They were talking to another boat about their plans to cross to the U.S.  We hailed them, and let them know that we’d be crossing too, and agreed to be of mutual assistance if the need arose.  Twelve hours later, we approached the edge of the Bahamas Bank, and were back in deep water heading to the northwest, where we would get into the central axis of the Gulf Stream (really The Florida Current).  Once in the current, it’s northward flow would help to push us along.  I secretly hoped that the marine forecast was wrong, and that we’d be able to make it farther north.  By early morning on the first of May, the seas were starting to build a bit.  When we changed watches at 01h30, they had gone from 1’-3’ to 2’-4’, and the wind was up to 19 knots out of the east.  Suz told me that “Kite” had called earlier, just to check in, and that they had a nice conversation.  When the sun came up, we got lines in the water and fished all day.  We had a lot of baits stolen, but only brought in one Skipjack for our efforts.  We sent him back for a swim.  The seas remained at 2’-4’ all day, but the wind decreased, and clocked around to the south-southeast, indicating an imminent frontal passage.  We stuck with our original plan, and pointed our bow west, entering the harbor at Fernandina Beach at 08h45 on May 2^nd.  There isn’t a whole lot more to report on the trip home, just a continuum of unbroken horizon for 360 degrees, engine room checks, videos, reading, napping, and the occasional whir of a fishing reel.  We needed to get the salt crust off the Girl, so instead of anchoring or taking a mooring, we called for a spot on the dock.  The Dockmaster told The Admiral that the annual Shrimp Festival had just wrapped up the day before, and the docks were pretty full.  Boats were pulling out as it was Monday morning, and by the time we arrived, there was a slot on the face dock for us.  We plugged in, turned on the air conditioning, and slept for 4 hours.  Later, while we were cleaning the boat, a friend and former multiple Krogen owner, Dennis walked down the dock from the latest in their long line of “Sea Fox’s.”  He invited us to join him and his wife, Julie, for dinner on shore.  Over Mexican food, they regaled us with stories of their cruising life.  They have owned boats on both coasts of the U.S., taken a Krogen across the Atlantic with a group of trawlers, and cruised the Med.  We were particularly interested in their experiences on the west coast for obvious reasons, and got many good tips.  Tuesday morning, “Sea Fox” was gone, I was outside cleaning, and Suz was in.  All of a sudden, I heard some VERY raised voices, then CRASH!  I looked up to see a small trawler, sideways in the current, scraping against the anchor pulpit of a moored sailboat, then the piling that the sailboat was tied to.  Free of these obstructions, it then caromed across the fairway, “T-boning” a power boat tied there.  All the while, the guy on the trawler is yelling at (his wife?) louder and louder.  They get their boat straightened out, motor out of the marina, and head south down the ICW.  I’m thinkin’, “Really?” They get about a half mile down, then turn around and come back, docking at the marina office.  I’m not sure if their conscience got the better of them, or they knew that I had witnessed the whole deal and had their boat name.  I’m going with the former.  Later, I found that they had filed an accident report.  Good for them.  After a day of boat chores, we fell off the wagon, and treated ourselves to half pound (?) burgers, and hand-cut fries at Tasty’s.  What a deal.  We stopped at Atlantic Seafood on the way home, and picked up a couple pounds of shrimp for another day.

After 2 nights in Fernandina, it was time to push North again.  The marine forecast didn’t look great, so we headed up the Intracoastal for Brunswick, GA.  Lots of our pals stop there, as it’s a friendly, inexpensive marina, and we had wanted to check it out in the past, but had never had the opportunity.  Our route would take us past the King’s Bay naval facility, where the Navy services our submarines.  As luck would have it, as we entered the ICW from Fernandina Bay, we were approached by 3 Coast Guard inflatables with BIG guns on their bows, lights flashing.  After an exchange on the VHF, we were instructed to move up Cumberland Sound, as a naval warship would be heading through, necessitating the closure of the ICW.  We could have headed south, gone around Cumberland Island, and back up the Brunswick River, but thought it’d be cool to see a sub underway from up close, so we headed into the Sound.  After idling for 20 minutes or so, we decided to drop anchor, as there didn’t seem to be much happening on the ICW.  Finally, the sub passed by, accompanied by 2 large tugs.  It was a small attack sub, but it was still pretty darn big, and quite impressive.  Our hour-and-a-half delay put us behind the tide, and when we got up to Jekyll Island, we had to anchor to wait for enough water to pass through Jekyll Creek.  Ten hours after leaving Fernandina, we arrived at Brunswick, having traversed only 39 miles.  Turns out that we were just in time for social hour(s) at the clubhouse, featuring beer and wine, provided by the marina.  We met a lot of interesting, friendly folks, including the owners of “Kite”.  They were just returning to the States after completing a 6-year circumnavigation of the globe.  We chatted until long after the party was over, and were fascinated by tales of their travels.

-Until Later   

Helooo,

I promised a few words about The Island School.  Here goes.  The Island school was founded around 20 years ago, on land donated by the DeVos family (see Amway Corporation, Grand Rapids, Michigan).  Its’ mission is to teach kids to be good stewards of the environment, and good citizens in general.  Curriculum subjects include earth sciences, marine biology, renewable energy, and etc.  The facility generates all their needed power (via wind, solar & biodiesel) and place excess into the Bahamas electric grid. The school has 2 terms of 100 days each, with 50 High School students (mostly sophomores and juniors) living in.  These students are mostly from the States.  Tuition is $30K/ term.   The 70-odd staffs talents run the gamut from teaching to the operation of the schools hydroponic farm, solar and wind generating system, carpentry shop, and daycare center.  In addition to the live-in students, the School hosts camps and field trips for local kids, these being nearly free of charge.  Immediately adjacent to the School, is the Ocean Institute, where current research includes the restoration of the conch population in the Bahamas, as well as the problems that have been created by the introduction of the invasive Lionfish into these waters.  The school pays local fisherman for their Lionfish and subsequently serves them for dinner. After our 2-hour tour, we had barely scratched the surface-check out their website. www.islandschool.org

April 21rst, and it was time to say “goodbye” to Davis Harbour.  What a great little marina-Friendly people, good shelter from all winds, and FAST internet.  Since we had visited Rock Sound and Government Harbours on our road trip, Hatchet Bay would be our stop today.  We had a pleasant, albeit wavy and windy trip under partly cloudy skies.  Along the way, we were entertained by a pod of around 10 Dolphins, one of which was a small youngster.  The Girl got a nice saltwater bath, and was pretty crusty by the time we got to the opening of the harbor.  The harbor is entered through a 90’ wide channel cut through a rocky cliff, which was a bit of a challenge with the 24 knot crosswind/sea.  Once inside, the water was quite calm, but still quite windy.  We had a heck of a time getting tied to the very poorly maintained mooring ball.  After a few tries, we finally got a line on, which promptly wound itself into knots.  Recalling our friend, Ann’s travails with a recalcitrant mooring over a year ago, in which she very nearly lost her leg, requiring medevac, multiple surgeries, and months of rehab, I cut the line loose and left it on the ball.  As we motored to the other end of the bay to drop our anchor, we got a call from another boater on the VHF, asking if we needed help.  He motored over to the ball, and after nearly 15 minutes, managed to get our hopelessly knotted line free.  We returned, and got hooked up, then started sharing stories.  It seems that he saw our hailing port, Charlevoix, MI, and had lived there while he ran a sailmaking shop.  He had a home on Oyster Bay.  We have several friends there, so we had mutual acquaintances.  Now, here’s the crazy part.  Suzanne told him that 20 or so years ago, before we built our present house, we had looked to buy a house on Oyster that had a blue metal roof.  He says “That was my house!” Next, Suz says “Is your last name Gleason?”  I thought he was going to drop dead-I don’t know how she remembers this stuff, we only looked at the house once.    We took down the tender to run in to shore, explore, and pay for the mooring.  The motor ran sluggishly for a few minutes, then died, reeking of gasoline.  After hauling “White Star” back up, and pulling the engine cowling, we found that the gas was coming out of a weep hole in the fuel pump reservoir.  What?  Pulled the pump, emptied the fuel, and took apart the pressure regulator-bad “O” ring.  Into the trusty thousand ring kit.  New “O” ring, and we were good to go.  To shore, for a quick explore and pay the rent on the mooring.  Nobody home at the Front Porch Restaurant (mooring owner), so we stuck a twenty under the welcome mat, and called it good.  Nothing special in Alicetown and Hatchet Bay, except for the arrival of the ferry, which brought the whole town out to the dock.  We headed back to the Girl.  The Gleasons joined us that evening for sips, and we shared chats about mutual friends, and the lake in general.

We delayed our departure until 08h30, so that we would hit Current Cut, on the north end of Eleuthera at slack tide on our trip to Spanish Wells.  It was cloudy and overcast, but the wind and seas were on our stern, so it was a comfortable passage.  The current was still running at 4 knots as we went through the cut, and we thought about breaking out the water skis as the Girl shot through at a blistering 10.2 knots.  The marina at Spanish Wells Yacht Haven was in the final stages of renovation.  The docks were brand new, the swimming pool had just been completed, and some little bungalows were getting their finishing touches.  Translation-we won’t be able to afford this place next year.  We walked the length of Spanish Wells Island(St Georges Cay), and were surprised by the level of cleanliness in general, and the tidy appearance of the houses in particular.  Spanish Wells was first colonized in the early 1630’s by the Eleutherian Adventurers (see Puritans seeking religious freedom).  In fact, the word Eleuthera has its’ roots in the Greek word for “freedom.” Spanish Wells is also the home of the Bahamas fishing fleet. SW provides the majority of the Bahamian lobster for the Bahamas.  Back at home, the brand-new tiki bar at the marina was rockin’ that night, but we just chilled on the boat.  We had a big day planned for the 23^rd, taking the ferry over to Harbour Island, the first seat of government in the Bahamas colony, and exploring for the day. The island aka Briland(for the many Briland roosters that wander) was shaped by Loyalist Governor of Virginia, the honorable John Murray(1786-1797). He fled to the Bahamas after being awarded the title of Lord Dunmore, Governor of the Bahamas.

Gotta tell you a quick story, ‘cause it’s still bugging me.  We went into the 8’x8’ ferry office to buy our tickets, and there was an old guy sitting there, apparently just hangin’ around.  As we talked to the nice lady about the ferry, he heard that we were Americans, and wanted to start preaching politics.  He informed us that he was British, but had lived in the Bahamas for sixty years.  Well……he informed us that most of the English really didn’t care for Americans, and thought that we should butt out of their internal affairs (the U.K. is currently thinking about leaving the E.U.).  I’m a tolerant guy, so I let him go on, but when he finally hit a nerve, and our tickets had been purchased, I told him that our experience with the French and English was just the opposite.  Most of the folks in his generation that had any common sense were extremely grateful to the U.S. for bailing their asses out of two World Wars, and that if it hadn’t been for us, he would be speaking German now.  (Door nearly breaks off its’ hinges as Tucks exit stage left).  When we returned that evening, I apologized to the ferry lady for slamming her door.  She said, “Let me tell you something.  He came to the Bahamas in 1942, married a Bahamian woman, and has been here ever since”.  Hmmmmh, can you say “draft dodger”?

Our excursion to Harbour Island was a delight.  As the ferry threaded its’ way through “The Devil’s Backbone”, amongst the numerous shallow coral heads, we plotted the course on the IPad, so we could duplicate it when we left for Great Abaco.  We walked the streets of town, checking out the old buildings, then headed to the pink sand beach, where we bar-hopped for snacks and sips.  Back to Spanish, we hot-footed it up to Food Fair so that we could provision some fresh produce before they closed at 17h00.  Returning to the boat, we found that Gary and his wife Charlene were our new neighbors.  They were having some electrical problems, so I gave him a hand.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t get him fixed, but did get the problem diagnosed so that he could order the necessary parts.  Well……Suzanne busted the mold for my Birthday dinner this year.  No spaghetti and meatballs.  She surprised me with a favorite that we hadn’t had since our last trip to Italy-Vitello D’ Tonnato.  OMG!  The diet really took a hit as we washed down the creamy goodness and pasta with green peas with a great bottle of white.  Every now and then, I forget how lucky I am that she still puts up with me after nearly 38 years.

Okay,  see ya’

Crappy internet, so I'll add pics later

Hello Strangers,

It’s been a loooong time since we’ve had decent internet, so I’ll try to cram some pictures up into the ether, and get caught up on the last few weeks. It’s the 18^th of April, and the kids have come and gone.

Jeremy, Jodi and Mikaela arrived right on time, as Suz and I waited for their taxi at “Red Boone”  in Georgetown. We all had the $10 Burger and a Beer special with a couple of ala carte brewskies.  After that, the obligatory stroll through the few gift shops and knick knack shacks there.  The weather window was open, so the next morning, we ran the ten hours up to Cambridge Cay and grabbed a mooring.  Unfortunately, little Miss M had a case of the Mal de Mer, but was a trooper all the way.  The next day, Jody and Mikaela had their first snorkel lesson from Yours Truly before we set out to explore the grotto at Rocky Dundas.  There, we swam through the narrow passageway (exposed only at low tide) into the large cave with a hole in the roof, the sun pouring through and illuminating the interior.  Next, we dinghied to Compass cay, where we hiked to “Rachel’s Bubble”, a frothy tidal pool there.  Back to the girl for lunch, then the 2 mile dinghy ride to “The Aquarium” for a little reef snorkel.  On the way home, we checked out the sunken plane off the coast of Pasture Cay, then beached the tender in search of iguanas-none were found.  Next day took us to Staniel Cay, where we saw the swimming pigs, then dinghied to “Thunderball Grotto”, so named because some scenes from a James Bond movie were filmed there.  The current was fierce, but our new snorkelers kicked its’ butt.  One group of touristas was leaving as we arrived, and we had the place to ourselves for a half hour before the next group of revelers arrived-sweet.  On the half hour ride back to “Alizann”, the winds came up, and the blue/black skies opened.  As our friend Andy would describe it, “A real turd floater.” All we could do is laugh, as we drove into the 30 knot winds, sunglasses on, to keep the driving rain from tenderizing our eyeballs.  The plan was to shower and return to the Staniel Cay Yacht Club for drinks, but squall after squall nixed that program.  We had a spirited night of cards instead.  Ohhhhh……weather.  We had planned on a stop at Rudder and Lee Stocking Cays on our way back to Georgetown for their plane, but increasing seas and winds dictated a change in plans.  The Admiral and I did NOT want the vacation to end on a seasick note, so we opted for a run to Emerald Bay Marina before the weather, where we could all spend a day poolside, with cocktails from the tiki hut.  It turned out to be a great call, we missed some sights, but we made up for it by snagging 2 Mahi, a Wahoo, and a ‘cuda.  The girls, avid freshwater fishers, were ecstatic, even though a shark hit one of our Mahi’s taking off the tail while reeling in.  It did, however, make it a lot easier to bring in.  The pool day was perfect.  For $50/head we were allowed to use the facilities at Grand Isle Resort, and enjoyed the day, with lunch and cocktails around the pool.

April 7^th was turnaround day.  We all got up early.  Availed ourselves of the free laundry facilities at Emerald Bay for towels, sheets, etc., and cleaned the Girl inside and out.  Having rented a car for the day, we dropped J,J,&M off at the airport, and picked Ali and Ben up, as they had flown in on the same plane that was carrying the rest of our gang out-how convenient.  Same program.  Into Georgetown for beer, burgers, and the tourist thing, then back to the boat by way of “Prime Meats”, a specialty butcher shop.  Besides gorgeous cuts of meat, the butcher there makes a chicken salad that I’ve been lusting after since our stop there a couple of weeks previously.  The weather permitting, we had decided to run the “Boatguest Circuit” again, so we headed back to Cambridge Cay, then work our way back to Georgetown.  There, we hiked the Cay, and got Ben (another first time snorkeler) hooked.  Struck out on iguanas again, but hey, it’s all in the process.  Next, it was Staniel Cay, where we DID get to have docktails at the yacht Club after hiking the south end.  We departed Staniel on the 11^th, headed for Farmer’s Cay for the evening.  Along the way, we anchored off Black Point on Great Guana Cay in order to stop at “Lorraine’s Mom’s” house to see if she had any fresh bread for us.  Jackpot!  Raisin Cinnamon Coconut, and just plain old coconut loaves were warm out of the oven.  We made our way down to Farmer’s Cay by late afternoon, anticipating a good day of fishing on our way to Georgetown the following day, as we had been skunked on our way to Cambridge.  We weren’t disappointed.  We boated 3 Mahi, and lost the biggest one (which Ben had fought for over 30 minutes) due to my inability to get him gaffed when he came alongside the boat.  He straightened out the hook (literally), and swam off.  I’m pretty sure I heard him laughing over my curses.  Our videographer discovered the challenges of filming with rolling seas, and left her breakfast on the deck.  BUT….she did get some good footage of her hubby reelin’ in the lunkers.  Once at anchor outside Georgetown, I found out how handy it is to have a Chef as a son-in-law.  Together, we had those fishies butchered in no time, sharing a few techniques along the way.  A spirited game of cards ended their last night with us.  (By the way, the Wells family kicked the Tuck family’s butts for the week).  Seems to be a pattern here.  Maybe we’ll play dominoes next visit.

April 12^th.  The taxi doors weren’t even closed, and I was feeling pretty empty.  We were so lucky to have our kids with us, but I wanted more.  Strange, how when they’re growing up, you take it for granted that they’ll always be there as you chase the almighty dollar.  Then, they’re gone, and you wonder where all that time went.

I’ll do the 13^th-18^th later.

-Just Me and Ma for awhile.