James and Sandra Little flew down to George Town in the Exumas to join us and to watch the 66^th National Family Island Regatta.  We are just sitting in the stands between races enjoying a beer.

This is the Bahamian sloop New Legend sailing by behind our anchored boat.  You can see how much sail these boats carry.  To keep the boat upright, the crew must crawl out on two pries hanging out over the water.

As the day ends one last boat sails out into the sun.

On the last day of the regatta the Royal Bahamas Police Force Band put on their show.  They are something to see in tropical uniforms and leopard skin tunics.

There is as much to see below the water in the Bahamas as above.  It is hard to believe, but all three of the creatures are animals.

Last year the children and grandchildren spent a week with us in the Black Point settlement.  Well, this is the nearby White Point.  No one lives here.  It is just white sand beaches.

Sailing from Eleuthera to the Abacos we had two cruise ships pass just ahead of us.  Cruise ships are ugly, and the paint job does not improve things.  See what I mean?

Hello from Brunswick, Georgia.  It has been a very long time since I have written.  I am afraid I have not been a good correspondent on this trip, but I did not want to be too much of a whiner.

When I last left you, we were waiting for a visit from our friends James and Sandra Little.  They flew in a couple of days before the Family Islands Regatta began giving us time to check out George Town, walk on the Stocking Island beaches, and enjoy a few restaurant meals.  Mostly, we just hung out on Irish Eyes.  Once the races started, we managed to anchor in absolutely the best possible spot.  We were just off Volleyball Beach at the Chat N Chill restaurant with the race’s upwind turning mark off our stern.  When the race committee occasionally moved the mark away from us, it was still close enough to set down our drinks and run over in the dinghy for a closer view every time the fleet approached.  One time from aboard our boat, we could hear the calls of “starboard, starboard” before the loud crash of a collision between three racing boats just behind us.

For variety, we also took the dinghy to both the starting line and the finish line.  While most sailboat races start with the boats already underway, Bahamian races start with the boats anchored in a line.  When the starting gun is fired, all the boats pull up their anchor and raise their sails to get underway.  There are lots of opportunities for things to go wrong, sometimes dreadfully wrong.  We took the dinghy to the starting line for one of the races.  There was a crowd of dinghies and motorboats milling around behind the starting line, and we were about the smallest.  Feeling like a chihuahua among great danes and finding our position a little dangerous, we went back to Irish Eyes after the start to watch the rest of that day’s race.  Our venture to the finish line was a little more civilized, mostly because as each boat finished the crowd of spectators shrunk.  We watched each boat cross the line, we heard their supporters whoop and holler, and we saw them all take off to town to party.  We followed later.

The Regatta went from Wednesday to Saturday.  The final entertainment on Saturday evening was a parade by the Royal Bahamas Police Force Band.  We went into town to watch the parade, to have supper at one of the many temporary shacks selling food and booze, and to watch the closing ceremonies.

The band put on a great performance.  Sandra is a good photographer and got some wonderful pictures.  Supper was grilled chicken and pork eaten while sitting on the harbor wall.  The closing ceremony and awarding of prizes began just after we finished our supper.  Almost every government official in the Bahamas was there.  The Prime Minister was in the crowd, his deputy and the Governor General were on stage surrounded by a covey of departmental ministers, district governors, local council leaders, and prominent citizens.  Unlike the U.S., there was no security in sight.  The political speeches were, as usual, too long, but we liked watching the slightly intoxicated and delightfully happy winners collect their fabulous trophies.

The weather while the Littles were with us was great until their last full day when it got progressively cloudy.  We walked to the top of the Monument Hill on Stocking Island and along the beach on the Exuma Sound side of the island.  A couple we first met years ago had said that a snorkel along the rock wall at Monument Beach was not to be missed, so we went.  I’d describe it, but Gayle does a much better job on her web site, http://cruisingbiologists.com/monument-wall-george-town/ .  At 1:30 in the morning the long-awaited thunderstorm arrived (They invariably come when we would rather be sleeping.), and Bill caught enough rainwater to fill our tanks.  Monday morning, we motored across the harbor in the rain, then Bill ferried James and Sandra to shore to meet their taxi to the airport and begin their journey back to Kingsport.

While James and Sandra were with us, we had been monitoring the leak from the transmission.  It seemed to have stopped after Bill’s Loctite and silicone caulking fix.  Bill did notice a small diesel fuel leak from the engine, but it was minor.

We hung around George Town for a week in lousy weather, ready to leave.  There were rumors on Facebook and cautions on the morning radio net about the quality of the diesel fuel at the Shell service station.  While we had enough fuel to get to Staniel Cay, we wanted more in case they were sold out.  Bill took our three 5 gallon diesel jugs into town to buy fuel from the Esso dock (Yeah, it is still Esso there.), but they had none.  The Shell station said their fuel was fine, so he bought 15 gallons.  Back at the boat after adding the first 5 gallons to our tank, he found water in the bottom of the jug.  He added the other 10 gallons doing his best to leave the water behind.  We then circulated our fuel from the tank, through our Racor Aqua-Block filter, and back to the tank for 6 hours to remove the water.  All told we recovered about 3 ounces.  Bill added to our fuel tank a double dose of Biobor JF (a biocide) and another double dose of some $20/quart snake oil stuff he had bought that claimed to clean injectors, increase fuel lubricity, remove water, and dozens of other good sounding things.  It couldn't hurt, could it?  We planned to go north along a shorter route than usual because with our transmission problems we did not want to get too far from the Yanmar dealers in Nassau, Spanish Wells, and Marsh Harbour.  On Friday May 3 the weather cleared, and we sailed north to Galliot Cut and were anchored in time for sundowners.

Our next stop was a Big Farmers Cay.  In past years we had walked along the beaches and explored both a small creek and large cave.  This year, just above the high tide line, were four large “No Trespassing” signs and the creek entrance had been filled with sand.  The creek was interesting because the changes seemed natural, but the signs make us wonder what was happening on this island that was mostly populated by goats.

Farther north, we stopped at the south end of Hawksbill Cay.  We had not stopped there this year, and I always enjoy walking around this end of the island.  I spent a long time swimming in the sun warm water where a creek flowed out to the banks and watching a Reddish Egret walking along the rocky shore.  Bill walked across the island and found the largest float he had ever found.  At nearly 3 feet in diameter, he could not get his arms around it to pick it up.  Thankfully, he left it behind for others to enjoy.

Our last night in the Exumas was spent at Ship Channel Cay.  The rocks around our anchorage were described as a good snorkeling spot by Stephen Pavlidis.  He was right.  We saw all kinds of fish and other creatures.  Ship Channel Cay is Powerboat Adventure’s island base.  They bring tourists from Nassau to feed sharks and rays and to have lunch.  We had the fastest internet of our time in the Exumas while we were anchored at Ship Channel Cay.  Several years ago, we met the owner of Powerboat Adventures.  He told us the only way he could keep young staff was to have great internet.  We older cruisers enjoyed it as well.

The next two days were long days for us.  The first day we motor sailed from Ship Channel Cay to Royal Island; an all-day trip.  The second day was equally long as we sailed across the Northwest Providence Channel from Eleuthera to the Abacos.  We were making tracks north.  The first day we played tag with a thunderstorm and got a little wet.  The second day we played tag on the ocean with two cruise ships but managed to not collide with either of them.

Arriving in the Abacos through the Little Harbour Cut at supper time, we anchored behind Lynyard Cay; another island in the Bahamas that has sprouted No Trespassing signs in the last few years.  We could still walk along the nearby beaches but could no longer walk across the island to the ocean side.

Lynyard Cay gave us protection from the east wind, but over the next several days the wind moved first south then west.  We responded by moving to a spot in The Bight of Old Robinson for the south wind then to Snake Cay for the west then north wind.  Snake Cay is at the north end of the East Abaco Creeks National Park, and a cut between Snake Cay and Deep Sea Cay gives water access to a huge and shallow lagoon behind the cays.  The area is entirely undeveloped, and one of our guidebooks said it was great for dinghy exploring.  The current in the cut was very, very strong, but once inside, the lagoon was calm and pretty.  On our way back to Irish Eyes, we stopped at several small beaches just to see what was there.  All we found was plastic trash.  At our last beach, we failed to anchor the dinghy properly.  I looked back and saw it blowing away.  Bill had to run back down the beach then swim a couple of hundred yards to catch up with the dinghy.  It was a touch and go race for a while, but he eventually caught the wayward dinghy.

The weather was not pretty on May 15.  It was cloudy, and it rained off and on.  I baked bread while Bill tried to patch a leak in the floor of our dinghy.  Weeks before in George Town, Bill had given our can of expensive but out-of-date Hypalon glue to another cruiser in exchange for some freshly caught mahi.  That was OK because Bill had purchased a new can in Miami.  Unfortunately, the new can was for a PVC dingy, and our dinghy is Hypalon.  Bill did not realize that the new can was the wrong stuff until we discovered the leak in our dinghy’s inflatable floor.  He kept busy one whole day trying different types of tape and glue to stop our leak.  His fourth attempt produced the final solution -- superglue under a Hypalon fabric patch pressed firmly in place with two c-clamps and two pieces of wood while the glue set.

The wind picked up and become easterly, so we moved a bit north and anchored in a calm spot off Tahiti Beach.  That put us in dinghy range of both White Sound and Hope Town.  One day we had lunch at the Sea Spray Resort in White Sound then walked to a tiny grocery store for orange juice and a tomato.  The next day we went to Hope Town to look around, have lunch, and do a little shopping.  Hope Town now has a swimming pool.  A teacher holding an umbrella over her head for protection from the blazing sun herded her towel carrying charges down the lane from school to pool.  The children would run ahead passing us, the teacher would make them stop for her to catch up, we would pass the children, and the process would repeat.  I enjoyed talking to the kids every time we passed each other.

Remember the fuel leak I mentioned a few paragraphs back and remember the $20/quart snake oil stuff that promised to clean fuel systems?  Well, it apparently cleaned up around our very minor fuel leak and transformed it from something you could only smell into a steady drip, drip, drip from the top of our engine’s high-pressure fuel injection pump.  By the time we realized the seriousness of the situation it was after 4pm on Friday, and the telephone at the Marsh Harbour Boatyard went unanswered.

We needed the engine not only to move the boat but also to charge our batteries and to cool our refrigerator and freezer.  We planned to motor the two hours to Marsh Harbour on Saturday morning soaking up the leaking fuel with paper towels and anchor near the marinas in case we needed to move into a slip for electricity.  When we tried to start the engine, it would not start.  Where the fuel had been leaking out of the running engine, air had leaked in with the engine off.  Bill bled the air out of the fuel pump, and we got going.  We made it to Marsh Harbour completely soaking four paper towels and leaving a puddle of fuel under the engine.  Bill cleaned up the mess, studied our engine’s shop manual, and read things on the internet.  It seemed a copper washer in the discharge check valve of one of the injections pump’s three cylinders had failed.  Sounds easy enough, change the washer.  Bill did not have the washer nor the tools to work on the pump, and the warnings in the shop manual about unskilled work on the pump sounded serious.  Those of you who know Bill well can imagine how frustrating this was for him.  We hung our solar panel over the side of the boat to give it more sun and reduced our engine run time for the fridge to an hour a day even though it meant that our frozen food would thaw.  (We got to eat steak twice.)  We waited for Monday.

Over the weekend we had several people stop to talk to us.  One was a French Canadian who was sailing his boat, Argo IV, by himself.  He had Googled Irish Eyes because he liked the way she looked and apparently found my blog and our position reports.  When he came over in his dinghy, he called us by name and knew all about us.  If the guy had not been so enthusiastic, honest, and nice, he would have been creepy.  Jumping ahead a couple of weeks, while we were sailing about 60 miles off the Florida coast, the Coast guard asked over the VHF radio if anyone has seen Argo IV.  Bill responded and said we had seen him in Marsh Harbour.  The Coast Guard was only interested if we had seen him in the last six hours.  We do not know what had happened.

On Monday morning, Bill called the boatyard and twice left a message for the mechanic to call us back.  We waited all day and never had a return call.  Tuesday morning, Bill walked over to the yard and found that it would take two to three weeks to get the necessary parts to repair our engine.  The mechanic was to be “off island” in three weeks for two weeks.  It looked like we would have to spend six weeks in Marsh Harbour babying the engine enough to keep our food cold and our batteries charged.  I was ready to jump ship and fly home.  Bill made a second trip to the boatyard.  He ordered the parts in case we needed them.  He stopped at the auto parts store and bought a can of spray brake cleaner, a set of small wire brushes, a set of dental picks, and some epoxy glue for metal.

It took two applications of the epoxy, but the leak was reduced from a drip to a seep.  The engine started just fine.  It was time to head north stopping somewhere between Ft Pierce and New Bern depending on how the leak progresses.  The first day we got to Bakers Bay on Great Guana Cay.  The leak was OK.  The second day we got to Allans-Pensacola Cay.  The leak was OK.  The third day we got to Great Sale Cay.  The leak was OK.  Things were looking up.  The weather forecast was good for the next three days as far north as the St Mary’s River entrance at Fernandina Beach Florida.  North of that the wind was to be 25 to 30 knots with the chance of thunderstorms.  We headed for the St Mary’s River 300 nautical miles away.

 

The wind was very fickle.  At times, usually at night, it blew 20 knots.  At other times we did not have any wind at all.  The engine started every time we needed it.  One evening the engine seemed to vibrate more than usual at the start but calmed down as we ran it.  On Wednesday May 29, after about 57 hours underway, we were anchored in Cumberland Sound.  We cleared via an app on my cell phone.  We never spoke to or saw a single human at Customs and Border Protection.

Thursday morning Bill went swimming and replaced all the zincs on the bottom of the boat including the one on the propeller.  That seemed to stop the engine vibration.  We decided to move up the river to the town of St Marys, Georgia to wait for favorable offshore weather farther north.  We enjoyed the little town of St Marys.  We enjoyed the Submarine Museum, the National Park Service Cumberland Island Museum, a bookstore, and the restaurants in town.  All were air conditioned.  Bill walked the 7-mile round trip to Winn-Dixie for groceries and came back dripping sweat.

For a change of scenery we moved to Cumberland Island for a day, then for diesel fuel we motored up to Jekyll Island then Brunswick, and tomorrow (weather permitting) we’ll resume our trip north to New Bern.

Stay safe and well.