After fueling up at Vero Beach City Marina, we headed out around 3:22pm. Oops, let’s make that 1522 hours for the sailors and military folk paying attention here. My request to the captain was that we hit the inlet in daylight in order to see it and take photos. Man, did he accommodate – our departure was perfectly timed to look back and capture the sunset over Florida.
During the past year of outfitting the boat, if things got stressful, I’d playfully point out, “You promised me blue water.” And suddenly, there we were on the ocean blue. Then, it was dark, and darker, and darker. The stars were beautiful when not hidden behind cloud cover, above was clear and filled with the heavens, but to the east (our basic direction) there were clouds moving around all night. So it became difficult to distinguish the horizon in the inky blackness. To the west, the lights of South Florida made it clear we were headed on an adventure. We kept a watch on instruments, course headings, GPS, looking for lights of other vessels so we could identify them and their distance on radar and/or AIS, etc. Did I mention it was very, very dark? We could look down as our wake disturbed the water, and it absolutely sparkled with bioluminescence – beautiful blinking points of light on the water’s surface. Cool! We took turns on watch, but truthfully, we were both almost too excited to sleep, so the naps were brief, more like power naps. We spent most of the time together on the flybridge.
Around 0230, as we scanned the horizon, two points of yellow light appeared. What’s that?? I got my binoculars, handy 1st mate that I am, to identify it. A few seconds later, we were looking at a perfect Cheshire Cat of a crescent moon, as it seemed to POP into view. Hey, where have you been? We laughed at ourselves and from there followed the perfectly illuminated path to the Bahamas. Silly camera can’t take a steady shot in the dark on the ocean.
As the sun rose enough for us to see once again, we raised the yellow Quarantine flag required to be flown until check-in with Customs & Immigration. We were now strangers in a foreign land.
Friends told us to watch for flying fish as we made the crossing, but since we crossed in the dark, we didn’t see them. At dawn, Todd found this little guy on the foredeck. So we did actually get to see one. Sorry, little guy; had we known you were out there, we’d have tossed you back in.
We dropped the hook near Green Turtle Cay around 1500 hours, set the anchor alarm, and quickly lowered the dinghy so the “Master of the Vessel” (it’s a Bahamian thing), Todd, could go check us in. We were fortunate enough that the customs agent had just arrived at the Green Turtle Club. Great timing on this end, as well. Off he went with our passports and folder full of information. As a matter of Covid-19 protocol, only the master is allowed to leave the vessel until you’re cleared. Upon his return with our stamped passports and Travel Visa, we removed the Q-flag and raised the Bahamas courtesy flag for our stay, grabbed a cocktail, and headed to the bow in time to catch our first Bahamian sunset. NOW we can sleep. Aaaaah.
Thanks to all for the prayers for our safe passage. Covid-safe, long distance hugs!
Our Travels 