Last week was productive. While gathering options/quotes for repowering the ‘Mare, we successfully passed the HOA interview for a short-term lease and moved into a condo. Once we got settled into our temporary digs, it was time to get the boat settled in for her emergency procedure.
And we promise, this is the last of the tongue-in-cheek movie title references as headings. Perhaps. 🙂
It’s been more than two weeks since we shared anything about where we are, and folks are starting to inquire. We could fall back on, “Is this really happening?”, but that wouldn’t be very adult of us. So, now that we’ve had time to isolate ourselves and lick our wounds, here’s the upshot on our unexpected situation:
Between crying jags, there’s been plenty of time spent on the phone, via email, and in person, with mechanics, surveyors, yard managers, estimators, wood workers, fiberglass specialists, etc. I’m sure we are forgetting someone.
When not engaged in exploring available options and needing time to mope each in our own way, lo and behold, we both distracted ourselves with mind-numbing, electronic “word” games (word games for goodness sake!?) for more hours than we care to count. Our grandchildren would be shocked to see us sitting in the same room with faces glued to screens for hours. (Or perhaps they would be pleased? Ha!) We’ve also occasionally ventured out for our sanity. Pizza. Bagels. Doughnuts. You know, fattening stateside comfort food.
Oh, about that rental car in the photo at the end of our May 22 trying-to-maintain-optimism post? We had a flat and had to trade the car on Friday of Memorial Day weekend, when, as you can imagine, they had very few options. We ended up in this cute little guy. And we both fit! And we could carry a few days’ worth of groceries, barely. We did discover we could not unbuckle our seatbelts at the same time. 🙂
Because life aboard the SaltyMare will simply not be allowed to remain enshrouded in negativity (have you met Susie?), here’s the affirming “all will be well” wrap-up: Journeys, like life, have their ups and downs, good times and bad times, etc. The challenges are called that for a reason. It’s these taxing situations that allow us to truly appreciate the good times. Otherwise, we wouldn’t value smooth sailing when it comes our way. Enough positive reinforcement yet? I’m starting to hear grandparents everywhere in a murmuring chorus of, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Or the ever popular, “This too shall pass.” I know. How about…. we just move on and get ‘er done.
Thanks, everyone, for being there!
PS – We really do still need a resource for a replacement Selene cleat. Anyone out there among our followers who might have a suggestion?
What had originally been planned as a 3-step process became a 4-step process due to the distance in the Bahamas and the speed of our tow. Doesn’t look like it, but it’s a long way, 175 nautical miles (nm) or 201 statute miles (land). That’s long. All whilst being towed, not in control….
After a quiet night by Green Turtle, Dale and his son, Matthew (both born and raised there), arrived to hook up before sunrise. This leg is a little more than 100 nm! Every inch of it slower than we normally go, but, then again, faster than we can currently go on our own. We ran the little engine to help out.
The day was, as we’d been experiencing with the approach of summer in the tropics, a little rainy and mostly sunny. We passed the “Center of the World” again. Cute name, sure beats the five different Hog Cays we’ve seen on our trip!
It was a slog, and as the day wore on, the tropical weather kicked in, always full of variety. It became clear we were not going to make it all the way to Memory Rock unless we continued well into the night. The decision was made to anchor off Mangrove Cay instead and resume at 0300 in order to meet the tug from Florida at 0700.
Up at 0230, “photo” of our departure.
The cavalry is here!
As we left the Grand Bahama Bank, the seas, driven by constant squalls – some blowing sideways – really picked up. Bobby, the tug captain reckoned 4-6 feet! Unable to run stabilizers, we were a bobbling cork. We got no pictures because we were otherwise occupied, bouncing around inside catching everything that was moving. For ocean crossings we now have a whole new definition of battening down the hatches! Fortunately, nothing was broken. Whew. We spent the first three hours really rocking and rolling before the weather cleared and things kinda smoothed out. Close to Florida, the stormy weather returned, however, with rain blowing sideways! A half hour or so later, around 1630, as we neared the St Lucie inlet, the tow boat paused to shorten the bridle line.
Once the line was shortened, we were ready to transit between the rock walls of the St Lucie Inlet. It was quite sporty, and we were very surprised when a sport fish passed us in the narrow channel.
After clearing the inlet, an additional Tow Boat U.S. boat joined us to guide the larger tow boat through the areas with shoaling before attaching to our stern to provide “braking” and control for docking.
We are so thankful for God’s protection and have a list of people to thank:
The only damage was minor – a few fiberglass chips from the tow gear and a ruined starboard bow cleat.
In the end, the SaltyMare is injured, but we aren’t going to put her down. We will bring her back stronger than ever. As we begin this next unexpected part of our journey, it’s obviously going to look MUCH different – for a while…
After limping into the Conch Inn Marina in Marsh Harbour on Saturday, we spent the weekend licking our wounds, so to speak, in disbelief. Can the “heart” of our ‘Mare really be hurt… bad? Yup, bummer.
As soon as businesses reopened Monday morning, we got busy researching mechanics, service yards, and as it became clear very quickly, tow companies. As it turns out, our proud SaltyMare needs to be towed back to the U.S. for her engine repair. Between availability, expertise, and our desire to treat her right, to the U.S. we go. Given our little emergency engine is just not suited to go all the way back, towing is the only solution.
Timing for the tow is weather dependent, of course, so once the plan was agreed to by all parties, we returned to wait mode. Surprise! Around 1100 this morning, we got the word that we’d be picked up for the tow at 0700 tomorrow morning near Great Guana Cay. Uh-oh, that’s a couple of hours away at our new speed…. (think slower than a snail), and the tide is dropping. Quick! Check out of the marina (Terrell, thank you very much!), “zoom” (ha) out of there with the last of the needed tide to anchor in deeper water outside of the harbor, so we can splash the dinghy to scoot back into the harbor to get to customs! Plan worked! Quick work at customs, and we are now officially free to leave the country. Whew. Hurry back to the boat, return the dinghy to the top, weigh anchor, and head off at our “speedy” little-engine-that-could, breakneck four knots for Great Guana Cay, the furthest north we can stage without transiting Whale Cay Cut, which we didn’t want to risk on our little engine.
Because of our limitation, we were advised that the tow plan should actually be a three-step process First step, pick us up as soon as we get to Great Guana for the tow through/around Whale Cay Cut late this afternoon. So, we anchored at Guana Cay and waited for the first tow boat.
We found it really odd to be “cruising” along without actually navigating, but as expected, all went smoothly. They hauled us to anchor right by Green Turtle Cay. Actually, very near to where our Bahamian adventure began back in December! Time flies when you’re having fun!
The second step begins very early in the morning (rumored 0400), when we’ll embark on Leg #2, a tow across the Great Bahama Bank to the closest point to Florida, Memory Rock, where we will spend tomorrow night anchored. Then the final step, Leg #3 – an actual tug (we’ve been told) will get us across to Florida Friday.
So far so good.
Great news! The technicians came and facilitated the repairs to the generator. Heck, even the refrigerator, with its untold story, is working again. (Thank you, Herbie, Greg, and Ryan!) Fist bumps all around, and a shared Yippee! We can get moving.
On Wednesday, our last evening in Spanish Wells, a squall came through, and along with the rain, brought the 80-foot Knot a Horse to our dock. Cute, right?
In anticipation of crossing to the U.S. next week, our first stop after Spanish Wells was St. George’s Power Company to take on additional fuel, before anchoring off Meeks Patch to wait for crossing over to the Abacos. Thursday’s grand total trip distance? A whopping 3 nautical miles. Insert Willie singing “On the road again!” 🙂
Crossing the Northeast Providence Channel of the Atlantic to get from Eleuthera to the Abacos, while not as long as the final step of crossing from the Abacos to the U.S., is a long one – about eight hours for us. Friday began cloudy and grey, but the seas averaged a quite tolerable 4 ft / 8 second period, with the occasional 5-6 foot roller thrown in for good measure. Nothing the ‘Mare couldn’t easily handle. We cruised through the edges of a few of the squalls, but for the most part managed to keep the lightning and the heaviest rains off in the distance, which allowed us to enjoy rainbows and tankers appearing from, and seemingly disappearing into, the mist.
We weaved through the squalls until we reached the North Bar Channel above Lynyard Cay. As we turned into the inlet to get from the Atlantic Ocean to the Sea of Abaco, our main engine made a terrible noise. While engine trouble is never a good thing, the timing could have been worse. Rather than being out in the ocean somewhere, we were approaching the inlet and able to fire up the “get home” engine, a small Yanmar, to, now, very slowly, steer through the inlet and around to where we could safely drop anchor in approximately 30′ of water to assess the situation.
The original plan for the day had been to anchor off Lynyard Cay, but after taking stock – and a few calming breaths – we knew we needed to get closer to population and the possibility of diesel mechanics. We used the “get home” engine and the few remaining hours of daylight to slowly limp further north toward Great Abaco. Other than being seriously waked by a steady stream of sport fishers (just where did all these guys come from???), all went well, and we managed to get anchored near Boat Harbour Marina, just south of Marsh Harbour, right before the evening squall.
Early yesterday, the 30 or so tournament boats roared past us, heading back out for another day of fishing. After the “rocking” show, we used our ‘little engine that could’ to move safely, albeit slowly, around the point into the protection of Marsh Harbour.
We reached the shallow section of the entrance channel to Marsh Harbour at low tide, which we knew we would, but that was preferable to staying at anchor out in the open near Boat Harbour, being rocked by the tour boats, charters, and sport fishers zipping by. All we had to do now was drop the “lunch anchor,” as dear Uncle Bill calls it, and wait a couple of hours.
We ate lunch while the tide brought the necessary depth, then weighed anchor and headed for the Conch Inn Marina. Steerage using the little engine is not the best, and backing up is nearly impossible, so using binoculars while communicating with the dockmaster, Terrell, to see where he planned to put us, we were hesitant about his original choice. Terrell quickly came up with a Plan B. Unfortunately, that involved three turns to port (left), another thing the little engine doesn’t do well, but with enough dockhands and the assistance of a very nice couple docked on the other side of the short finger pier, we were able to get her nose up in there without incident. Whew. Another calm performance by captain and crew.
Now. How bad is it? Unfortunately, it’s like checking into the hospital on a weekend. You can’t talk to anyone until Monday. All we know is we won’t be crossing back to the states next week.
At this point, it would be easy to focus on the negative, but we prefer to look at the blessings:
Our Travels 