fetchinketch

OK, we are not blowing up a lot of things…  just the dinghy.

We do like our dinghy.  Karen has christened it “Rhythm” (to go with Harmonie, get it?) Our inflatable dinghy is our local transportation wherever we go.  Since we inflate and deflate it a lot, we have had a lot of time to work out what works best for us.

The normal air pump used on most dinghies like ours is a foot bellows pump. They work, but I find them awkward and uncomfortable to use.  Pumping at full speed, it takes about 10 or 15 minutes to inflate our little boat.  Not awful, but if it’s hot and sunny, it can be sweaty work.

When Amel built the Super Maramu boats, they included an electric dinghy inflator pump.  As far as I know, these all died an early death, because it is really hard to find a well made unit on the market.  So many of them are little more than toys, built for inflating other toys.

After an extensive search, we think we have found the right answer.  An Italian company named Scoprega has an extensive line of both manual and electric air pumps sold under the “Bravo” brand name. We have found some of these to be well made and highly functional.

Our dinghy needs to be inflated to a fairly high pressure, about 3.5 P.S.I., so our inflation process is a two stage operation.  First, is a high speed electric inflation pump, a Bravo OV10.

Our “fast” air pump, a Bravo OV10

Bravo OV10 Air Pump West Marine sells the same pump with in a store-brand box.  Note that the adapter required to inflate most modern dinghies is NOT included, but must be obtained separately.

This pump runs off our 110V inverter and it is also available in a 220V version. It takes about 3 minutes to have the dinghy nearly full. Although it does suck a fair amount of power (1000W) it goes so fast it has no real impact on our batteries. Other than the vacuum cleaner-like whine, is is an easy and pleasant process.

I say nearly full, because while this pump is really fast, it doesn’t QUITE get the tubes to the full pressure they need to be. For that we used another Bravo brand product, a Bravo 101 hand pump.

We liked this hand pump for a couple of reasons.  The tube that runs to the dinghy is attached to a fixed point on the pump.  On most similar products it is attached to the handle, and goes up and down as you pump.  It also has an easily visible pressure gauge.

Bill puts the final puffs into the the dinghy with our hand pump.

About 10 to 20 strokes on each side, and the dinghy is fully inflated and ready to go.

At least for now, we think we have the dinghy inflation process as close to optimized as it is likely to get.

On a windy and rainy Monday afternoon, it is time to catch up on the blog!  We have been busy entertaining guests, and dealing with travel and weather.  The next week or so looks to be back to what passes for normal aboard Harmonie.

Bill’s brother, Jim, sister-in-law, Laura, and their son, Mike, were visiting aboard Harmonie for the past week. We had a carefully planned and researched itinerary for their visit. You can guess what the weather gods did to us when they heard we had a plan and schedule!  After they finished laughing, they stirred the weather pot to be sure nothing went as planned.  Fortunately, all aboard were flexible and good natured as we responded to changes.

Our plan for Wednesday afternoon was to head into the large lagoon that goes by the name of the “Sea of Abaco” via the North Bar Channel. The string of large winter storms that pounded the Northeast coast of the USA had generated a large swell here, almost thousand miles to the south. When that large swell ran up against the reef on the east coast of Great Abaco Island, the resulting huge breaking waves rendered the channel passage to the calm interior far too dangerous to consider entering.  Since the forecast was for the size of the swells to decrease over night, we sailed out to the east until about midnight, then turned around and then sailed back toward the coast.  Come morning, it was true the waves WERE smaller, but not nearly small enough.  Time for a “Plan B.” A wider, deeper channel was 15 miles to the north.  Man-O-War Channel was our fall back plan.

As we approached, we tuned in to the VHF radio to hear the local “cruiser’s net.” This is a daily cross between a call-in radio program and a telephone party-line where information of interest to the local sailors is exchanged.  We heard a report on the conditions at Man-O-War Channel, “Rough and turbulent.  Two on a scale of zero to five.”  Two out of five sounded promising, so we pressed on, especially after seeing the local mailboat take the passage without problems.  Still, there was a strong offshore wind of 20 to 25 knots that was ripping the tops off the breaking waves and dramatically blowing spray back out to sea.

The actual channel runs through the reef at a slight angle, so when you first start in you have to take it on faith that there WILL be a break in the waves.

It is always very hard to get a photo that captures the drama of an ocean wave. I think this give you an idea of what we had to sail through on either side of the Man-O-War Channel.

We (obviously) made it though without serious problems.  I think Jim summed it up best when he said, “If this was a ‘2’ I would not want to be here on a day when it ranked a ‘3’!”

Our first plan was to anchor or pick up a mooring, but it was windy and rough enough we decided that a marina would be the comfy choice for all concerned. Fortunately, Orchid Bay Marina is centrally located on Great Guana Cay, and had a spot for us.

Harmonie docked at Orchid Bay Marina, Great Guana Cay, Bahamas

Putting Harmonie in her assigned slip in 25 to 30 knots of wind was a…challenge.  But we got her in place without breaking anything, and without embarrassing ourselves. So that was all good!

The Orchid Bay Marina has all the comforts.

The marina/resort runs it’s own ornamental plant nursery.

One of the things that has become obvious to us is the physical damage that was done by last year’s hurricanes is mostly gone here.  The real lasting damage to the local economy is from the people who are staying away because they think (incorrectly!) everything is broken.  While it is nice to have an uncrowded experience, it is disturbing to see facilities in good shape, sitting mostly empty during what should be their high season.

Great Guana Cay just continues to impress with stunning scenery.

Give Karen half a chance and she’ll find them… the local wild orchids. A species of Encyclia growing in the mangroves.

We will be out and about cruising the Sea of Abaco again tomorrow now that the weather looks to be settling in to a calm period.  Hopefully the snorkeling and fishing will quickly improve!

On the very southern tip of Great Abaco Island is the settlement of Sandy Point. Not much happens here, it is quite remote, but also beautiful.

On all of the outer islands in the Bahamas you quickly get used to every car that passes  (and there are not many!) honks and waves in greeting. People are always friendly, if not always effusive about it.  Last time we were here, the weather made it a hassle to get to shore, so this time we made a point of getting to the beach and walking around town.

Here are some pictures:

The Beach

More Beach

More Beach

And More Beach

Rush hour on the road to Marsh Harbor

Ripening Sea Grapes

Just a beautiful roadside wildflower

The town’s fire company. I did mention it was a small town, right?

Tree snails are common in spots. Some of the ones with more exotic colored shells are quite rare.

If you are going to sit by the dock of the bay, you need a chair, right?

We are out exploring again and we are giving a few places we visited before a more complete look over.  We sailed from Freeport, to the southern tip of Abaco yesterday.  Well… to be completely fair we sailed half way when the wind stopped and we fired up  the trusty Volvo diesel.  We trolled lines most of the way, and had nary a bite.

The highlight of the trip over:  Karen saw her first Green Flash. Like many people, she was a bit skeptical about the actual existence of this phenomenon she had heard described. If you have a perfectly clear view of the horizon, no hills, or trees, or buildings, and there are no clouds at all between you and the setting sun, then just as the last tiny bit of the upper limb of the sun slides below the horizon, it turns from orange-yellow to brilliant emerald green and then–it is gone.  It lasts no more than a half second or so.  So if you have never seen it, or heard of it, or are skeptical of the story, we can now both now assure you it is a “thing”.  Karen’s comment: “It was definitely green!”

As we approached our destination after sunset, in the dark, a brown-footed booby began circling the boat.  Round, and round he went.  He had picked out his perfect roosting place on the main mast spreader.  At least a dozen tries to land.  They aren’t know as “boobies” because they are smart and graceful!  Finally he got a foothold, and proceeded to “decorate” our deck and cockpit with whatever fish he had eaten earlier than day.  Yuck.  We HATE boobies.  As soon as we got our anchor down, we whacked his tail with a line and sent him looking for a roost with more welcoming neighbors.

The anchorage was beautiful in the moonlight. With calm, crystal-clear water we could easily see bottom.  We could have picked out a penny on the sand.  For our evening’s entertainment we turned on the flood light on the back of the boat.  After an hour or so, we had a large collection of assorted small fish hanging around, and a barracuda cruising by as well. But the coolest visitor of all, was a Caribbean Reef Squid who entertained us while hunting the smaller fish. Really fascinating.  I have never seen a squid hunting in the wild before.

Today was a fishing day.  It was almost flat calm, and brilliantly sunny.  Colors that just occur nowhere outside the tropical oceans.

How calm and clear was it? That is the shadow of the boat on the bottom of the Bight of Abaco this morning…

We trolled over to Hole in the Wall Reef.  Our fishing luck today was different…  Not a whole lot better… just different.  We had no less than five hard strikes from wahoo… without hooking one. Very frustrating!

As we approached the reef, we were treated to a small group of humpback whales repeatedly breeching as they migrated south toward their breeding grounds close to Hispaniola.  Tails, flippers, heads, bodies, all thrown up out of the water and splashing back down. They put on a great display–right up to the point I picked up the camera, then they disappeared.

We arrived at the reef, and experimented with a type of fishing new to me: “deep drop” fishing.  This is bottom fishing in VERY deep water, 600 feet or more.  I picked a likely looking spot 800 feet deep, and dropped five hooks baited with squid and a 4 pound sinker down… and down…  and down. Almost 4 minutes to reach bottom.  As soon as I tensioned the line, I felt the friendly tap, tap, tap of a fish.  Hey!  This is easy!  I let the bait sit down there for a few minutes, hoping for multiple hookups.  Now comes the fun part… reeling all that line back in! I start cranking… and cranking, and cranking.  The line is heavy, and it is hard work. I can feel the fish struggling, but I certainly wouldn’t describe it as an epic battle.  This is meat fishing, not high end sportfishing.

Less than half way up, something dramatic happens…  Suddenly the rod bends deeply, and line starts peeling off the reel, very fast, and straight back down to the bottom.  There is nothing I can do but hold on as my catch heads back toward where they came from. Then…. suddenly… nothing.  Broken off.  What happened? Did a larger than expected hooked fish suddenly realize it was in trouble?  Or did a large shark, marlin or swordfish grab the fish struggling on the hook?  I’ll never know what happened 600 feet under the boat…

We did manage to bring one yellow eye snapper up from the depths.  Like many of the fish that live in the deep, cold, dark waters, he made a VERY tasty dinner.

Not huge, but really good on the table.  A yellow eye snapper.

Then, something changed, and the bite stopped.  Reeling in the better part of a quarter mile of line is hard work, and without the ready promise of a fish on the end, I quickly lost enthusiasm.

Our trip back to the anchorage netted us one small barracuda on the trolled lures.  Not a dramatically productive fishing day, but fun all the same.

Harmonie is tied up at the Grand Bahama Yacht Club.  We are 100 miles away in distance, and a thousand miles in other ways.

We hoped on the ferry from Freeport to Fort Lauderdale (about 3 1/2 hours).   The ferry is interesting.  Run by a Spanish company, it is a fast wave piercing design that travels at about 25 knots.  The clientele were a mixture of Bahamians making a quick one day trip for shopping, others on longer term trips visiting families, and a large number of tourists. A significant fraction of the tourist traffic were Europeans.  I am guessing they are just more likely to consider non-airplane travel. Over all it was an experience we enjoyed, and was in a door to door travel time not much different than taking a flight, and a lot cheaper.  There is also ferry service to Miami.

Ferry Pros:

• Way more room than a plane. Walk around all you want. Outside if you like.
• Less boarding hassle.
• Cheaper.
• Better views.
• Dedicated customs clearance.  (Have you ever cleared into the USA at the Miami airport on a busy day?  Yuch!)

Ferry Cons:

• A bit slower at 3 1/2 hours for the crossing.
• Limited schedule.  One round trip a day, on most days.

We’ll be in Florida for 10 days or so.  For a few days we’ll be in Hollywood taking care of business, then a fun day or two at the huge Miami boat show, then down to Big Pine Key to visit friends.  All the while picking up boat parts and supplies.

Sunset over North Lake, Hollywood, Florida

First, an observation:  Has anyone else noticed how many of the islands of the Bahamas include “Grand” or “Great” as part of their official name?  In the case of Great Guana Cay, we pretty much agree, it is a pretty great place.

Along the northern and eastern edge of Great Abacos Island is what the locals claim is the world’s third largest barrier reef.  Number 1 (Australia) and Number 2 (Belize) everyone agrees on, but the title of Number 3 seems up for grabs by any number of tourist boards.  No matter it’s ranking–it is a special place.  Between Great Abaco Island and the various reef islands offshore is the Sea of Abaco.  Shallow, but not TOO shallow, with great tradewind sailing, and beautiful scenery. After we left Lynyard Cay we sailed up the Sea of Abaco to the barrier island of Great Guana Cay where we picked up a mooring for a few days.

This was truly one of the beautiful places.  While tourism is important, it has none of the tacky flavor that haunt so many tourist places.  It is pretty, and “real”. Also just a 30 minute ferry ride to the large town of Marsh Harbour where we did our grocery shopping.

This is the ocean side beach on Guana Cay.  A beautiful beach, but maybe a bit crowded?

How slow is life on this island?  Slow enough that Sunday church services are cancelled…

The main harbor is the center of town and just beautiful.

The quintessential beach bar…  “Nippers” faces the Atlantic.  On the bay side there is another popular bar “Grabbers”.  Not sure if the names are indicative of a theme or not…

All the parts of town we saw were just neat, clean and pretty.

Our next goal is to head back to the big city of Freeport, where we will leave Harmonie for a few days while we take care of some business in Florida.  This means retracing our steps back down, and around Great Abaco Island.  We have only just started to appreciate that cruising the northern islands of the Bahamas is a very seasonal thing.  Just a few weeks 2 weeks ago anchorages that we shared with one other boat, now are packed with 10!

We retraced our steps, back to Lynyard Cay, and then south to Sandy Point.  In especially delightful weather, we paused to fish for a bit at one of the local deep reefs and quickly picked up a pair of grouper for dinner.  As we drifted off the reef into very deep water, we were visited by a 10 foot long bull shark who stayed just long enough to make sure we were not edible.  After he left, we were visited by a small school of mahi-mahi.  I had no luck in getting them to bite, but the fresh grouper made a delicious dinner.

The last leg of this trip was a delightful fast 50 mile sail from Sandy Point back to Freeport, highlighted by a fishing double header, a mahi-mahi AND a wahoo on the lines at the same time. Neither was especially large, but that’s ok because we didn’t have a lot of room in the freezer!

Two of the best eating fish in the ocean! (Mahi-Mahi left, Wahoo right)

We are back in Freeport now, and will be taking the fast ferry to Fort Lauderdale in a few days.  In the meantime, tomorrow is the local Junkanoo Festival. A carnival type celebration that we expect to be a lot of fun!

Most of the eastern shore of Great Abaco Island is protected by a line of small barrier islands and reefs.  one of the larger of these is Lynyard Cay.  Occupied only by a single fancy vacation home on the north end, it is quiet and beautiful.

We put ashore at Uncle Charlie’s Beach.  We have no idea who Uncle Charlie was, or what he did to get a beach named after him, but it sure is a nice place.

The island itself is mostly exposed weathered coral rock.  Rough, hard, and very sharp, it is nasty stuff to move around on.  Do NOT fall, or you be in a world of hurt.

The two sides of the island are different worlds. The west (lagoon) side is quiet and peaceful with several sand beaches where tiny waves lap gently.  The east (ocean) side is mostly naked coral rock pounded by large ocean surf.

Lagoon side. Quiet, calm…

Ocean side. Windy, rough, barren.

One of the highlights of this area is the shelling.  Since the beaches are pretty remote, with just a little effort you can find quite a collection in just a short time. The shoreline is covered with living shells from the high tide line on down.

Various kinds of periwinkles hunker down in the sun waiting for the return of the tide.

Large chitons are common.

The shells of “sea biscuits” are everywhere.  A little bigger than a softball, they are half way between a sea urchin and a sand dollar. Unlike many sea urchins the shells of these guys are pretty sturdy, so they collect on the beach in significant numbers.

One of many…

A live seabiscuit covered with his best attempt at camouflage, and starfish.

You don’t see a lot of living conch around here.  Here is a cute little baby…

Yesterday we got an early start from the anchorage off Sandy Point at the southeastern end of Great Abaco Island, and sailed around the southern end, and halfway up the east shore. It was a fast and boisterous sail, with winds of 20 to 25 knots and rather large seas for the 55 miles to our destination. The boat was moving at 7 to 9 knots for most of the trip. The Amel’s hard dodger did a great job at keeping us dry–ALMOST all the time–as we plowed through some of the waves instead of over them.

My original plan was to enter the lagoon on the east side of Abaco Island (know as the “Abaco Sea”) at Little Harbor Cut, but with a fairly large swell running that narrow, twisting, and fairly shallow entrance looked to be a bit more dangerous than I was comfortable with.  Instead, we headed a few miles further north to the North Bar Channel.  Wider, deeper, and straighter it was the better choice.

Viewed from offshore, it was a bit of a challenge to pick out the calm inlet from the surging breakers on all sides.  Spray was flying up from waves as they crashed on “Channel Rock. ”  The cruising guide had a very useful piece of advice about this rock, “Don’t hit it.” Thanks for that.

Although exciting to watch the surroundings, the actual inlet transit proved to be pretty tame.  We entered under sail on a strong flood tide, so the waves in the center of the channel were far apart and showed no tendency to break. Although just a few dozen yard to either side…

Looking to the north side of the channel, we watched waves break on the rocky reef.

On the south side was more rough water as waves broke over a wrecked construction barge–complete with backhoe!

We anchored in the lee of Lynyard Cay.  A weather front will pass with some rain and then we’ll be doing some more exploring.