Drama at Sea





Time to leave paradise.

Our trip from the Exumas back to the US required four open water passages ranging from 35 to 60 miles each.  One leg was over a typical shallow Bahama bank with 10-20 feet depths, while three of the passages were largely over ocean waters with depths between 3,000 and 6,000 feet.  There is something quite unsettling about knowing that one has a mile or so of water beneath the hull, and the unknowing of what may linger there.  In deference to a request from Molly, I never mentioned when our depth meter was beyond its 200 or so foot range. 


The level of anxiety at sea beyond water depth is much related to the strength and direction of the wind, and wave height and frequency.  These factors become accentuated by at least three factors: (a) the amount of fetch, or the distance of open water where waves can build in size and intensity; (b)  differences in the wind and wave directions, which can intensify turbulence; and (c) great differences in typography, particularly when open ocean meets shallow inlets.

Harbor Control gave us permission to pass
through Nassau harbor.

Leg I from the Exumas to Nassau was all over shallow waters and moderate winds and waves.  While not smooth, Molly was reasonably happy and enjoyed sipping coffee in her new YETI mug, a great Christmas gift from her husband.  In Nassau we fueled up and enjoyed viewing the cruise ships and all the boating activity. 

This cruise ship is beyond massive.

Leaving Nassau Harbor.

Leg II was from Nassau to the Berry Islands.  While very doable in our boat, the open ocean seas were more uncomfortable, and we were both glad to get in the lee of these Islands, where we spent the night. 

Leg III brought much anxiety, followed by peacefulness and then terror.  The first 50 miles were over open ocean.  Waves averaged 3 feet, not the 2 foot or less forecasted, and winds were blowing 20 knots, not the 15 knots or less expected.  I tried tacking, as one might do on a sailboat, but I had difficulty finding any comfort, regardless of direction.  We alternated between pounding over the waves going into the wind to surfing down the waves with increasing speed and needing to guard against the boat broaching,  where it can suddenly turn sideways to the wave and seem like it might tip over.  We got pushed by one particularly large wave, and Molly cried, “God, please don’t kill me today!”, or something to that effect.  Finally, we settled on heading the boat so that the waves were just aft of our beam.  This greatly reduced the pounding, yet the waves were enough behind us so that the boat would not surf. 

Abandoned work boats and equipment at the beginning of the
Grand Lacayan Waterway.

 We changed our landfall according to our more comfortable direction, and all seemed reasonably good until Molly observed a squall, a very dark and fast moving system, coming at us from our port beam.  We could see the downpour and increase in white caps caused by the stronger winds.  I sped up as much as I could, and, fortunately, we were able to stay in front of the squall until we got in the safety of the Grand Lacayan Waterway. Some white knuckles, for sure.

This hotel on the Waterway was never
finished.

The Waterway is a 7-mile canal that follows a north-south line through Grand Bahama Island.  Off the canal are various canal tributaries, constructed to serve hotels, condominiums and luxurious single family houses with boat docks.  The hope was that this would become a Venice West, but it ended up being both the biggest public works project and boondoggle in Bahamian history. 

After passing through the tranquil, yet ghostly Waterway, we entered the Bahama Bank north of Grand Bahama.  Now in the lee of wind and waves, we easily sped along toward the marina in West End, closest point to Palm Beach, FL, our US destination.  Within a mile or so from the marina, we came to a dead stop as we observed a line of crashing breakers marking the shoal inlet that had to be crossed to reach West End.  I then motored the boat forward slowly as the frequency and height of the swells increased.  As the waves reached four feet or so, and not being prepared for worse, I quickly turned the boat around, returning to smoother waters to contemplate our options.  We had enough fuel for, perhaps  40 miles, and there was another inlet to cross the shoal 16 miles to our north.  We could also return to the canal, but there were no services for 50 miles or so.  Another factor was that it would be dark in less than two hours.

At that moment two 50+ foot sport fishing boats motored past us heading toward the inlet that we had just turned back from.  We connected over the radio, and I decided to turn around again and attempt to follow them through the shoal inlet.  “Molly, get our life jackets! Lock the doors!” The two boats in front of us were now in the middle of the 8-10 foot waves, and we could see the waves of water going over their fly bridges.  With no other viable options, we followed them in and soon hit the same waves.  The boat seemed to reach vertical  going up the waves, was nearly airborne at the top, and then crashed down the back side with the bow being briefly buried before rising again to go up the next wave.  It seemed like an eternity, but it what was probably just a few minutes, and we were over the shoal, now dealing with very unsettled seas with 4 foot waves.

I asked Molly to turn on her windshield wiper as I could no longer see out the port side window.  In her haste, (and maybe panic), she turned off the electronics.  We were now separated from the two other boats, and I couldn’t discern the marina breakwater entrance.  While the electronics were slowly restarting, Molly tried hailing the marina on Channel 16 multiple times, but there was no response.  Finally, another boater on shore came on 16 and directed us to the marina entrance.  As we entered, the other two boats, Tango and A Reel Dive followed us in.  Once docked we all breathed a sigh of relief and compared notes on the pier.  The Tango captain said that they saw Salty Paws completely out of the water on two occasions.  That night we both had two stiff drinks with a great dinner of Bahamian grouper.  I told Molly that this was the first time I had thought that we might not make it. 

We slept well but woke up the next morning, not sure if the weather would permit a crossing from West End to Florida.  The captain of A Reel Dive, Angel Cruz, was very friendly and confirmed with our weather service that today, Thursday, 1/5, was the day.  We then learned that his companion boat, Tango, had just locked into reverse and rammed the dock on the opposite finger pier.  There was very little damage to the boat, but six wooden pilings were demolished as well as Tango’s dinghy.    
Angel asked if we would work with him to tow Tango out of the inner harbor where they would be able to lock the boat in forward for the crossing and then seek further assistance in the States.We did just that before our own departure. After all, our boat make was designed for the Canadian Coast Guard! 

Our first view of the USA in almost one month.

Leg IV was our 60-mile crossing from West End to the Palm Beach inlet.  The trip was uneventful, and we arrived in Florida three hours later.
 


  

After checking in with US Customs, we motored up to Manatee Pocket in Stuart for a relaxing evening at anchor.