In an octopus’s garden – dan

We arrived at Staniel Cay, the playground of the rich and also other people who drive around in little rubber boats like us. It’s a fantastic place full of interesting contrasts and some spectacular sights.

They have a tiny harbor just for dingys, which made our visits to the island very convenient, especially after consuming a few adult beverages at the yacht club. We heard there about 70 full time residents on the island.

There’s a nice yacht club, a small airport and grocery stores like the “Pink Pearl Supper Market” pictured above. Calling the Pink Pearl a “Super Marked” seemed like a stretch to me but I guess it’s all relative (and possibly all related too). There’s also the nearby Yellow and a Blue markets for variety of color if not products.

We nestled in between Staniel and Big Majors Cays and ended up anchored right next to the tiny cay that contains the famous Thunderball Grotto. I knew from my research that one of the highlights of many people’s transit of the Northern Exumas is snorkeling this cave. So it was with much anticipation and a bit of skepticism that I approached the grotto in mask and fins.

The reason for anticipation is obvious, the skepticism came from the fact that the cave has been featured in a couple of movies, is popular and accessible. A part of my brain wondered if something so accessible could retain its natural beauty because nature often suffers notoriety and human attention.

Susan was terrified by the thought of snorkeling the grotto and didn’t attempt it until the third day of our stay. I was turned back from my first attempt by the strong current that eventually brought me to a standstill (or would that be a swimstill) a short distance from entrance. The next morning at slack, low tide Susan and I took the dinghy to the other side of the cay. Susan stayed with the dink while I swam into the grotto. The entrance was surrounded with fish and getting in was easy because of the low tide, I didn’t even have to dive to enter. In a word, it was spectacular!

I’ve never done anything like this before so it was a little spooky at first but I soon warmed to the experience and was charmed by the wonder of the place.

I was reminded that snorkelers often feed the fish when fish by the dozens came up to me expectantly, but “sorry guys” I had forgot the snacks. For the most part they seemed ok with my oversight but I did see one fish make an unfriendly gesture with his fin before swimming away.

The above water portion of the grotto is a fairly large cave with vaulted ceilings complete with several small holes that let in streams of sunlight.

It was a natural cathedral made of rock, water, air and light that was filled with a congregation of fish and the occasional snorkeler. The underwater portion of the grotto was even more enchanting, comprised of several chambers all cast in shades of blue. On one sandy shoal I saw the largest stingray that I’ve ever encountered.

There was a wild variety of fish but it was difficult to photograph them, because the light was dim in the grotto and most of the fish tended to stay in shadows.

An underwater exit on the eastern side of the grotto that was fun to pop through because you have to dive underwater to get out. All and all it was the most amazing snorkeling experience that I’ve ever had. On the third day of our stay Susan got up her courage and snorkeled the grotto. She proved to be as popular with the fish as she is with the no-see-ums but in spite of the aquatic crowds Susan managed to tour the cave. Yay Susan!

Black Point encounter – dan
Black Point Settlement is located at the northern end of Great Guana Cay right next to a gorgeous harbor, just under heaven. There’s a sturdy town dock that the mail boat ties up to once a week and is also available for dinghy tie-ups. The local laundry-mat is located on the water and even has its own dinghy dock. Two restaurants, a bar and a small grocery store are in town. Internet is available at Lorraine’s Café and delicious fresh bread is available from her mom in the house next door.
We hadn’t yet explored the town and were on our first beach walk when we met Barbara on her way to school. She’s retired Montessori teacher living on the island for the winter and has been volunteering daily at the local school as a tutor. Her first words to us were “Good morning, are you boaters?” When we answered yes, she continued with “Would you be interested in teaching sailing to the kids in town on your boat?” Hummm, let us think about it and get back to you later today was our reply. She said that we could stop by the school anytime during the day, it’s very informal.

We were torn, because if there was a need as Barbara felt, we would love to help out but we also know that kids don’t learn how to sail on a big boat. It’s too abstract and intimidating. My experience is that kids learn best in small boats, the smaller the better. We walked to the school, found Barbara and told her our thoughts. She seemed to immediately understand and said that she had a Sunfish at her place at the foot of the bay that we could use, just off the beach. Barbara is an amazing person, spontaneous and fast acting. Within a couple of hours she had lined up 5 boys for sailing that day and secured permission from their parents.
The kids showed up on their bikes right after school. They were very polite and full of enthusiasm. Susan took photos and helped out while I lead the group.
We started with a swim as a warm-up and to assess swimming abilities. They are all strong swimmers, good! The inner voice that advised me to teach less and watch more, proved correct. I asked questions, let them try things, stepped back and watched the magic happen.
A simple formula that worked powerfully well: combine motivated kids with a boat and then add water until the mix starts to percolate with laughter.
These boys have sailing and the sea in their blood so it is pure joy for me to watch their senses awaken to the feel of a tiller and the trim of a sail. They were fast learners, some faster than others and those that learned the quickest, helped the others out. The ones riding in the dinghy with me would coach the ones in the boat when they got crossed up. “Put the tiller over man, put the tiller over” and “Pull the main sheet man, pull it in.” they would coach. They laughed, occasionally splashed one another, sailed and every instant they learned.
I was impressed with how well those boys, the oldest of whom was 13, shared things; the banana bread that Susan gave them, time on the boat and tiller time were all shared out equally without any prompting. They were close-knit and considerate of one another.
For two days we sailed from mid afternoon till just before sunset when we would haul the little boat over the sand flats back to its nest up on the beach. I had learned to sail when I was 13 and was magically transported back to my early days, innocent times played out with friends in little boats on the water.

continuing evaluation - susan

Any worthwhile endeavor requires evaluation. In this brief time we have learned a lot. We continue to love to sail and we can live in a small space together and give each other the space we need. We don’t need a lot of comforts to keep us happy. There are some amazing people out here in the world living their dreams. Our imaginations are BIG. We have learned to live mostly off the grid and we aspire to do the same once we set up a land home. So, where does that leave us? So much to do, so little time…

We are new to this, to be sure, and there are so many options! We want to continue to travel and some of that travel is primarily focused on the land. Others we have met have told us of adventures they have taken by renting a camper and spending 6 months, for example, in New Zealand – a destination high on our list. The canal boats offer an intimate way to see Western Europe.

As we ponder our choices, we realize that we have done a major part of the work. We have eliminated the responsibility of house and possessions back home that can weigh a person down. The questions about holding on to cherished memories have been reconciled. The choices now are far reaching. We are putting careful thought into our future. Responses from our friends to our blog post about our considerations expressed fear that we were letting our work ethic get in the way of pleasure. There is a balance: weighing the value of our individual lives with the freedom to pack in as much adventure and learning as is feasible.

Unpeel the layers and see what you are about deep inside. I just finished Trail Magic, written by a dear friend of ours, Scot Hills, who recounted his soul search on the 6month trek of the Appalachian Trail. This quest is pursued by many, each in our own way. On reflection of his journey he speculates that each of us, pared down of the materialism and chaos of everyday life, and put in a simple setting, are mostly good and interesting people. And learning this about our own self is part of the realization.
Sailing provides a clearing out for me; erasing the overstimulation of a busy life and just being with my self. Feelings are intensified. Insights are possible - the perfect setting for attempting to write the next chapter of my life.

In motion – dan

We left George Town at sunrise on the 15^th and enjoyed a beautiful 40 mile sail, broad reaching in 12-17 nmp. Excellent tradewind sailing. G-Town had been fun and the living was definitely easy but it was time to move on. Our plan is to follow the chain of Cays on a northwesterly route through the Exumas, headed eventually to Florida and a rendezvous with my older brother.

We made the transit from Exuma Sound and deep water to Exuma Bank, the leeward side of the island chain and shallow waters. Our first stop was Big Galliot Cay that is misleadingly named given it’s tiny (less that 1/2 mile long and ¼ mile wide). But all things are relevant and we finally understood its prefix “Big” once we saw near by “Little” Galliot Cay.

We spent a couple of easy days amongst the Galliots, big & little, doing little but reading, photography and not practicing the violin for Susan. Sadly her fiddle has gone from bad to worse from age and travel and is now unusable. Hopefully a new one awaits her and is with my brother in Florida courtesy of the power of the web. A short (14nm) light air sail (complete with spinnaker run) brought us to Black Point Settlement on Great Guana Cay, a place that we’ve heard much good about and that we looking forward to exploring…

Flotsam & jetsam – dan

Sand – One of the long-term cruisers of this area told us that it was the quality sand that was responsible for the clarity and the color of the waters in and around the Bahamas. I had thought that this some of the finest sand I’ve ever seen but missed the connection to how it’s affects the water and the light. Funny how it’s the small things that can make big differences.

The little, big-eyed fish – Speaking of small things; I was cleaning barnacles off our hull the other day. The water was an especially clear aquamarine, the sky deep blue and the sun made its way into the depths in waves of radiant light. As I scraped, clouds of barnacle bits spumed out from my work and fell towards the bottom. This attracted a good sized school of small fish with big eyes. They took up station about five or six feet below me and proceeded to feed. The fish were of much the same color of the sandy bottom. They were made more noticeable by the light reflecting off their sides and backs as they cut back and forth during feeding. I paused my scraping from time to time to watch their aquatic ballet. It was during the end of the performance when one of the fish separated from the rest, swam up and looked directly into my facemask. I felt like we were at an aquarium except I was the one who was behind glass being gawked at. This little big-eyed fish, from the distance of about one foot, took a long look at my face. Then took off like he’d seen a shark. I know I have a face that can make babies cry but fish run? Apparently.

Island Gothic – It was a beautiful and breezy day. We packed a simple picnic lunch and road our bikes south from George Town. We cut across the island and saw miles of shallows and sandbars extending as far as the eye can see. Continuing on further south we came to a small field containing three graves. It was a peaceful spot complete with grass and shade so we decided to lunch here. A sign said that the gravers belonged to a Scottish plantation overseer named Alexander McKay and his family. A young wife, just 26 years old at the time of her death was buried in the largest grave. Her tomb is large, like an elaborate bed. Their infant child was interned next to hers. Its tomb is small and utilitarian. The last tomb contains Alexander himself who died two years later. It’s an intimate and lovely spot that was poignant in its mix of beauty and sadness. So much loss, so far away from home.

Fish storm – Susan and I had been watching dolphins swimming near our boat when the water immediately around Gypsy started boiling with the activity of fish. Hundreds of fish were percolating and little fry shot out of the water like popcorn all around us. At first I thought that it must have been the dolphins hunting that had all the little fishes in a titter but as we watched we noticed that the two seemed unrelated. Upon closer inspection I noticed that the little fry (fish of about 1”-2” long) were being chased by larger fish of about 5”-6” in length. The larger fish were sometimes working in small teams of 2 to 5 fish in hunting the little ones. This drove the little guys mad and caused them to pop clear of the water in their crazy attempt to shake off their predators. In the midst of all this a needlefish swam swiftly into the may-lay looking like a cruise missile. Faster and faster it swam until I too launched itself clear of the water like an ICBM into a shallow trajectory that reentered in the midst of a small school of the little fish. Death from above. It must be an amazing feeling for a fish to break free of the intense drag of water, enter the comparative nothingness of the atmosphere and soar. I imagine they get a brief burst of speed once they’re clear of the water. In makes me wonder just how close in evolution fish are to birds, especially when I see flying fish that actually do seem to soar once they clear the water.

Internet in George Town – The local market maintains a dock out back for dinghys, provides free WIFI, and free fresh water at the dock. In spite of that we often did our internet at J&Ks, which was just down the street because it was a faster connection. Julian’s (J&K) was a most interesting business; internet access, long distance phone service, scanning, copying, printing, computer services and he sold an odd variety of groceries. All at very reasonable rates from inside his little aquamarine building. He even kept his WIFI going afterhours so that folks could access his system outside of normal business hours on the honor system. What a guy!

A boat shaped bed - Ever since we’ve moved into the forepeak I’ve been sleeping in a boat shaped bed, or more precisely a half-boat shaped bed. The other half is shaped like a woman. My sleepy confines are hard, gently concaved & tapering in towards the feet on one side and soft & gently curvy on the other. It’s makes for an interesting and fruitful launch pad for my dreamscape.

Blue-green abstraction – Water, a medium, not unlike glass, air too, under certain conditions, bending light, compression, stretching, profoundly affecting, changing… bending, stretching, light, a portion of the electrical-magnetic spectrum, the part we see unaided, affected in such a way… that affects us, a specific vibration, out of the continuum of vibration, traveling through the universe, that we are attuned to, that affects us in such a way, in a blue-green way, another word or two for happiness or something more…

Stocking Island, an unexpected delight– dan

In doing the research for our journey I came across a lot of information about George Town, Great Exuma Island. Lots of info about the anchorages, provisioning and the social scene. What I didn’t pick up on and wasn’t prepared for was how strikingly beautiful near-by Stocking Island is.

George Town is surrounded by several harbors, the largest is Elizabeth harbor, that lies between Great Exuma and long, thin Stocking Island (2.5mile long, ¼ mile wide). Stocking Island is off the grid and only lightly developed; a couple of homes, a half dozen cottages, a tiny yacht club and two beach bars are all that inhabit this wild and beautiful island.

Stocking is chock-a-block with stunning beaches on the ocean side; more lovely beaches and several nice anchorages on the Elizabeth harbor side.

On the west side is what appears to be the remains of an ancient sea bed complete with curious swirls & patterns reminiscent of the Peruvian Nazca lines.

On the opposite side of the island is a 3.5 million year old prehistoric reef, something called a stromatolite. This rare feature is found in only a very few places on earth and is referred to as a “living fossil” by the scientist who study it.

The beauty of Stocking Island is so great that you can’t take it all in at once and if you attempted to do so it would be a crass act, akin to wolfing down a fine meal or gulping good wine. Stocking Island’s beauty is far better savored in sips over as long a period as possible. In between the old and new, between wind and tide, between sunrise and sunset the island continually expresses it’s serendipitous nature, one that never ceases surprise and delight.

One curious thing I’ve notice is that local Bahamians seem much less affected by all this natural beauty. I haven’t seen locals walking the beaches or strolling through the countryside. A recent article in the town newspaper complains about the difficulty and expense involved in trash pickup along the town roads. I’ve seen cruisers walking the beaches, filling plastic bags with beach trash. Perhaps those born in such a singular stunning place as this must end up taking it for granted. How ironic is that…

It’s apparent that many outsiders are smitten with this place. We’ve met lots of cruisers who originally came here planning just to spend a few days and have ended up coming back year after year. One couple told us they’ve been coming back these last six years, another seven, another eleven, another an incredible eighteen years. All drawn like magnets to this amazing place.

We’ve swum the waters, walked the long coastline, lunched on the beaches, enjoyed rum drinks under the soft pines, climbed the hills and at the end of each day savored long sunsets. We are surely richer for having come to this ancient and enchanted island. Will we come back, who knows? We know the coordinates and the route to get here. For now other islands beckon us and we’ve “miles to go before we sleep”.

The journey reconsidered – susan & dan

It’s a process, a work in progress, this trip that we’re on and it’s getting even more interesting as we go. We’re focusing on the journey, not the destination and that seems to be making all the difference. The most important thing we’ve done so far is to “burn our bridges”. We sold our houses and almost all our possessions and we’re both committed to not returning to Connecticut. After that it’s wide open.

We’ve been rethinking the scope of our cruising plans lately and pondering how our cruising fits into and supports the next phase of our lives, which will be land based. We’ve noticed that the cruising lifestyle, while tremendously liberating and empowering does have its own unique confines. Chief among those is our responsibility to the boat and our extreme dependence on weather and weather patterns. Also being people with a strongly ingrained work ethic, there is a little nagging voice going off in the back of our minds telling us that we should be doing something more productive and redeeming. The voice goes on to say that discovering beautiful deserted beaches and exploring new rum drinks don’t count. Bummer! So we’re considering curtailing our long-term sailing plan. We may not go around the world but instead may keep our cruising to the confines of the Caribbean, a not too shabby neighborhood.

The driver for this decision will be the answer to the question we’ve been asking ourselves lately - where in the world would we live if we you could pick anywhere? It is an extremely relevant question when you consider how much, where you live, affects the quality of your life. But what are those qualities and how are they affected? Qualify that and we should be well on the way to developing our answer to the first question.

At this stage of our lives the important qualities are (in no particular order): community, cost of living, geography (stimulation), climate (comfortable), culture, diversity, access to wilderness, healthcare, infrastructure, taxes, safety (crime). But perhaps I’m being too analytical, as even I’m starting to yawn. So let me backtrack a little. I’ll envision the perfect place where I’d like to live and then describe what I see.

The land. It should be huge, not small. And diverse with a wide range of geographic features and climate zones within easy driving distance. It should stimulate ones curiosity enough to want to excursion out and explore often. A place that draws one out for long drives, bike rides, kayaking and hikes. A place that makes one wonder and want to learn more about the creatures and plants that inhabit the region. The land should also be fertile and able to produce vegetables for a kitchen garden.

Next is the climate; not too hot that one needs air-conditioning to survive or too cold that it goes subzero in winter. A little snow would be all right, but just enough for atmosphere, not so much that you have to plow & shovel.

Community; A population that has a positive sense of themselves and at the same time is open to new ideas. A community who takes pride in itself and takes care of its members. One that is made up of a healthy mix of ethnicities. A community with strong social and environmental values.

Culture; When I think of culture two kinds come to mind and are important. First is the culture of the people who inhabit the region. Hopefully it would be strong and rich with an interesting history that has continuity with the present. The second kind refers to artistic and musical climate. Hopefully the area would be rich with artists, craftspeople, theater, live music and dance.

A house; we intentionally don’t have a clear vision of the house as of yet. It should be energy efficient. We’d also like the inside living area to extend and meld with the outside as much as possible. One random detail; I’d love to incorporate a generous skylight above the master bed. We’ve often been sleeping under Gypsy’s large foredeck hatch and I’ve come to love watching the stars before falling to sleep at night. Dan has built one house and would love to build another. That house was attractive, comfortable and successfully passive solar. Were hoping the next house, along with being environmentally friendly, will be uniquely interesting, and with some luck, magical. Made mostly of natural materials, it must fit in with and complement the land, which is why we don’t know what the house would look like, as we haven’t chosen the land yet.

Safety, healthcare & infrastructure are what we think of as “maintenance” items. They must be considered, need to be present and functional but I don’t see them being big decision drivers.

Taxes; something that we don’t see as a big decision driver. Where we end up living must be affordable to us and taxes along with healthcare cost and land cost are all a part of that mix that when added all together must not break our budget.

Country; This is a big one. Although an American citizen, we don’t feel obliged to live there and am open to settling in another country. There can be a lot of advantages to settling abroad such as; increased buying power due to favorable exchange rates with some countries, better healthcare, built in cultural opportunities. That said we find it hard to imagine living happily in a land where we don’t share common cultural and historical references. we also feel uncomfortable about exploiting the favorable exchange rates. It seems to encourage a colonial like attitude in the expats who practice it and develop an unhealthy dependency of the locals on an anomalous inflow of foreign currency.

So where does that leave us? We intend to do two things; 1) Continue cruising Gypsy, exploring the lands and waters of the Caribbean for the time being. It’s been wondrous fun so far, and we’ll continue as long as its suits us. 2) We’ll also continue exploring and playing with the idea of “place” and how it relates to us. It’s an important interesting question. One that I’m sure will benefit careful consideration over time.

We’re currently anchored next to the highest hill on Stocking Island. It’s a very steep hill and at the top sits an obelisk. On top of that monument an osprey has a made well-made nest. From that nest that osprey has a grand view of the harbor to the west, the wide-open sea to the east and comes and goes as she pleases. What a splendid home that bird has made.

learning from what works - susan

The weather dictates my life in a way it never did before. Dan and I are staying close to home today to keep an eye on our holding – the wind is blowing in gusts up to 30 knots and it has been since the middle of the night. Besides being sure we don’t drift away, we need to keep watch of our neighbors. The air temperature is 76 degrees but it does not feel warm with the wind so forceful. The sun is shining and the seas are making white caps.

It takes a day like this to allow me time to reflect. I am relatively inexperienced in this comparative study of the landings I have made since my cruising life began. There are some observations, though, that seem worth noting. The disparity in the economic situation between the cruisers and the locals here in Great Exuma is less marked than it was in the D.R. The cruisers seem to have a genuine sense of appreciation for the land and the community they become a part of for, in many cases, half of the year. They seem to convey this to the local people. The reciprocal relationship benefits all. The local market stocks many foods that are found in the States. There is Internet service available for folks outside the market and free fresh water is provided on the dinghy dock. Stocking Island (across the harbor from Great Exuma) provides the major area of anchorage for transient vessels. The local businesses that provide services on Stocking Island are super accommodating to the needs and desires of the cruisers. Beach church, volleyball, art classes and yoga all takes place on the private beach that is trying to make a business on their land. Connections have been made with the local community to assess the local needs. Volunteer groups go to the school for painting projects; school supplies and books make their way to the schools and library. Announcements are made at cruiser gatherings re health issues or other concerns for the well being of the local people. There are approximately 5,000 residents of this island; the cruisers know many by name. The beaches here are clean and free of debris. Based on the experience of other islands, this is no accident. The cruisers pick up the litter that gets washed up from the sea. Respect is shown for the seabed, the landscape and the integrity of the life of those who call this island their home. There is a mutual cooperation in this cruiser/resident relationship that benefits all who enter.
It strikes me that this relationship is a model for how we might hope the world could exist. No dominance, complimentary objectives, mutual respect… “Last night I had the strangest dream…”

The rest of the story - dan

Back in early December I related the chilling emergency call that we heard from sailing vessel Columbine. The call came from the crew of a sailboat, hard aground and pounding on the reefs of western Cuba. Cuban authorities were unresponsive and a US Coastguard cutter was headed to them, just six hours away. That was the last we heard of them until today. Often one never hears anymore than the initial call for help in such situations and that would probably be true for this one except for the vast interconnectivity and searchability of the internet. Haunted by the desperate call that we heard that day I searched the internet for the outcome for that grounding and this is what I found:

S/V Sangaris wrote on the Cruisers Forum

“Just heard from the deliver skipper that the CG was denied permission to enter Cuban waters to assist and that they, the Cuban authorities, would send help. That didn't happen for many hours, and the skipper reports, "...about 1500 on December 3 with a crew member displaying signs of a possible life threatening medical condition and the boat starting to come apart, I declared an emergency and asked the Coast Guard to take us off the boat, which they did." All arrived safely back in Key West.”

Etoken wrote this on the Havana Journal web site

“My mom and dad (dad just suddenly passed away this past July) had a sailboat they used across the carribean and south america. While they loved the idea of visiting Cuba, they never broke the U.S. law to enter the waters there.

Last month, while the boat was en route to Key West, a third party captain hired by my mom somehow ran the boat into a reef in cuban waters. The U.S. coast guard was able to rescue the men off the sailboat, but the Cuban coast guard allowed only the rescue of men, not the boat itself.

Sort of reaching at straws here but… We are trying to determine the outcome of mom’s boat - Sailing Vessel Columbine - a 40 foot Valiant sailboat. This is a very tragic end to a very beautiful boat, and a continued tragic end to the beautiful life of my father.

Any words of wisdom on this topic greatly appreciated…”

Cruising in to the new year - susan

Cruising life has many unique features. Defining myself, now more as a cruiser than a land dweller, my awareness is heightened. Here in George Town the cruising community has organized yoga on the beach on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday mornings. The beach towels are abundant with an equal representation of both men and women. It is inspiring to see the openness of each person seeking the benefits of inner peace.

Yesterday Dan made it a priority to find a suitable conch for us to sound at sunset along with the other boaters. This harbor has been my first experience of the bellow of conchs in unison when the sun dips below the horizon. Well, here’s the catch – when exactly do we sound the conch? If the sky is clear it seems the declaration is mostly in unison. It’s when there are clouds and maybe the trumpeters have not been paying close attention – the chorus is fragmented. It is a playful undertaking, without a director to keep us in time, to think of each participating vessel over this vast harbor bursting forth their sound at the designated time!

Being an old hippie hitchhiking is not foreign to me. I hitched a ride when I needed to and I gave rides when I had wheels. But, that was years ago! I had need to go to the lumberyard yesterday where I was told they sold seeds for sprouting and the way to get there was to hitchhike. Dan had other business so I ventured off alone. Was I wearing the proper clothes? – I wished I had on capris, not shorts. I walked deliberately for some time before I was able to turn around and face a car with my thumb extended. The first lift came right away and was with a man my age in a pick-up truck. I offered to get in the back but he insisted I could sit in the cab. I immediately found myself telling him my business as if to somehow justify my actions. We chatted about this island and his family and the 2+mile ride was over in no time. Heading back to town was easier for me; the local folks are very kind.

Dan tried his hand at hair styling yesterday. Our friends had given us a book with explicit details on a variety of styles. Dan attempted a layered cut with scissors and comb. He measured and cut and measured and cut; the results were satisfactory but not quite as dramatic as I had envisioned. In the end we ended up with spacers on an electric clippers. I sheared Dan and he sheared me!

Neighborhoods (in the harbor) change with great frequency. When we first arrived in George Town Harbor we anchored near Monument Beach with about a dozen other vessels. Within the first 24 hours there were 3 of us left. There was a prediction of stormy weather with high winds and folks sought greater protection. Reviewing the options we had for refuge we put out 3 anchors and safely sat it out. As the overall volume of boats has increased and the beach activities have alternated from one site to another, our neighbors have also increased; today we were joined by a super yacht that anchored a martini olive’s toss away from us! I was taken up with watching the activities on that vessel!

We share stories with other cruisers and up until now we have been the newest –
I look forward to becoming one of the more seasoned travelers. Until then, one day leads into the next with white sand beaches to walk and do yoga on in the morning, warm water to swim in the afternoon and rum drinks at sunset…

Happy New Year – dan

It was the middle of the night when I popped my head out the hatch for a quick anchor check. What I saw took my breath away; the turquoise water surrounding the boat was glowing with a light that seemed to emanate from the water itself. It was a wondrous sight to be sure as it caused me to wonder what was responsible for such a phenomena. I looked up to the heavens to for my answer. It was the silver light of the full moon that was causing the water to emit the ghostly pale-turquoise glow. The bright night sky was dramatically accented with the shapes of high clouds and the only stars visible were those sitting on top of the dozens of sailboats mast that were anchored around us. Because it was such truly magical sight and because such sights shared, are then doubled, I called to Susan to “come up see”. In an instant her head joined mine protruding from the hatch, gazing at the wonder that surrounded us.

I was moved to photograph the astonishing midnight landscape but knew that the necessary long exposure from our bobbing sailboat would never come close to capturing the marvelous sight we were seeing. I thought; perhaps I could portray it with words instead and perhaps even an illustration…