It's been fab, but it's time to move on.

We left Jackie O on the hard at the Riverside Marina in Ft. Pierce after traveling down the Intercoastal waterway for two days straight.  It was a long and slow journey as we were unable to sail, but we had a nice time imagining we inhibited one of the multi-million dollar homes along the canal.   She is listed with a reputable boat brokerage who claim that there is a bit of movement despite the 'hard times'.  Nate and I are not expecting her to sell, but if it happens great, if not, we'll have a place to stay in Florida for a few years.

For me, closing this travel chapter was a most joyous occasion.  I usually feel quite uneasy about leaving things behind and moving on because change has been very difficult for me in the past.  However, severing those ties with Jackie came easily.  I'm feeling like I can deal in a positive way with change.  I also think that it was easy to pull the plug because there just can't be two women in Nate's life.  I'm semi-high matienence, but Jackie is down right high-freakin-Paris-Hilton-style-high-matienence.  

Nate has asked me to mention that he feels relieved and also glad to have put something that he dreamed of doing behind him.   He says he knows that he has there are other ambitious adventures that we'll carry out together and he's excited about that.  So, in a way, thanks Jackie.

  

I will miss the beautiful Bahamian weather, the white sandy beaches and especially the countless amazing people that we have come to get to know throughout the sailing community.  Meeting kind, generous and smart people on a daily basis was such a gift.  We hope to remain in touch with these wonderful people.  Especially, Cathy and Gene, Linda and Rick, Cam and Jan, Mark and Julie and of course Uncle Rick.  We'll miss you guys, but know that there will always be a spot in cold, beautiful Cow-Town for you if you need it and also if you'd like to come and reminisce about our cruising days.  

Nate and I are currently in Montreal where we will spend a week with his Uncle Harvey and his new wife Marie-Eve and then we're off to London England to spend a few weeks with Robin and Dan.  We'll finish the trip off with a visit to Paris which will be full-filling a life long dream that I've had, which if you really know me, you'll believe me when I tell you that the dream is to eat a real parisian croissant made in France for breakfast instead of Oatmeal.  Ah, the sweet life. Ciao for now Jackie O and Bahamaland.  It's really has been fab, but it's time to for us to move on.

 

Onwards and upwards.

Kate and Nate are en route to their next adventure - Europe.  Jackie O is up for sale.  Bittersweet feelings, but please know that all bids will be accepted here.

Abaco and Florida family.

The day before the unexpected storm.

Shark Water

The greatest lesson of all.

I've been held in a pitch black classroom with twenty-five students for over two hours in 'lockdown procedure' at an inner city public high school.  I've been suspended upside down on the rollercoaster at West Edmonton Mall while teenage employees experimented with unlocking and re-locking the jammed coaster tracks.   I've been enclosed in an elevator, alone, with severe claustrophobia ... twice.  But in all honesty, I can truly say that I have never, ever in all of my life been as terrified as I was last Friday April 3rd.

The sail from the Bahamas to Florida is a trek that requires a week of good weather.  Nate and I had charted and planned out a potential journey based on fair weather, but we were open to changing it at anytime.  We made the jump from Great Guana Cay to Great Sale Cay without issue.  Then from Great Sale Cay to drop anchor in Mangrove Cay - no problemo.  After spending a night anchored out, we woke up early to make our way to the West End.  We had anticipated a four to five hour sail depending on wind while keeping the boat going at a speed of 5 knots.  About three hours into the sail, the weather unexpectedly turned ugly.  We kept a positive attitude and agreed that we might arrive later than expected as the winds were much stronger than forecast; but, it didn't seem like a biggie at the time.  We just kept trucking along heading directly into the East winds at around 3 knots.  But this is part of sailing right?  You don't always get the smooth stuff.  So we kept going.

After another hour passed.  We checked our GPS and realized that we had barely made any headway.  The winds were getting worse and we were still 14 nautical miles from our destination point moving at 0.3 knots.  A quick calculation startled us.  At this speed, we would arrive at approximately 9:00 p.m.  Low tide.  This meant possible boat slamming into the ocean floor.  That's when I started to worry.  

We contemplated turning around and heading back to Mangrove Cay but the weather window that we had studied so carefully before leaving read that the following day (Saturday) was bringing on a cold front with winds coming in from the north and severe thunderstorms.  We had been banking on staying that night in the West End to wait out that cold front - so turning around wasn't an option.  Although we were almost sailing backwards with the winds continually picking up, we agreed that we had to try to keep moving; however, we were both quickly becoming panicked.    

Then it got really bad.  As many of you know, our steering cables needed to be replaced a few weeks ago.  Our rudder was also causing us major issues, so of course, just as we were questioning the sturdiness of the new parts, the winds pick up to 35 knots.  Now, we're stuck fighting it head on with questionable steering for at least another nine hours.  Just when it looked like it couldn't get any worse, the skies on either side of the boat were turning dark grey and becoming black.  Totally unforecast.  

Nate and I were being slammed around in the cockpit and the situation was growing harder and harder to maintain control.  The boat wasn't responding properly to our demands or the stress of the ocean and the waves were bigger than anything I have ever experienced.  The entire bow of the sailboat was immersed in the ocean and then immediately thrown up high into the air, feeling as if it would almost become airborne.  At one point, I saw the dark sky right above us and then almost as quickly, a great wave of water below ready to suck us back down into the ocean.  That's when Nate and I agreed that we couldn't do this on our own.  We issued a distress signal to Tow Boat U.S. but didn't receive a reply.  We tried and tried and tried, but only had one failed attempt after another.   Then Nate issued another distress signal to ANY local area assistance.  A towing company replied and asked for coordinates.  They informed us that it would cost $275 per hour for assistance.  We did the math and figured that it would be around 1,000 dollars for help, but we said yes.  Our lives were worth so much more to us than that.  After about a half hour of being on stand-by, we were signaled back and we were told that it was too dangerous for them to come out and assist.  Can I just repeat that last sentence?  The towing company wouldn't come and assist because it was too dangerous for them!   They were not willing to risk it.  We were on our own.  Both shocked and scared out of our wits, we knew that our only hope was to keep trying to move and to pray and boy did I pray.  Unfortunately, in my sheer panic, my 'prayer' was all over the place.  It went something like this;

Dear heavenly father, please forgive me for; oh holy crap, holy CRAP!!!  Oh, I'm so sorry Lord, please forgive me for just swearing like that and also for being bad when I know you want me to be goo---  Oh geez!!!!  (out loud) NATE!!!  AHHHH!!!!  (then silent again) Lord, oh man, if you really, really love me, oh man oh man, you'll save me right now.  Please save me.  No, save us.  Save us please Lord, or, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh (out loud) HANG ON!!!

(silent again) Lord, geez, Lord please give us calmer seas or calmer winds, or just a bit more spee--- oh holy CRAPPPPP!!!!   AHHHHHHH!!!!!  (then at lightening speed) In-your-precious-name-I-pray-Lord-Jesus-Christ-AHEM!!!

Just for the record, my conversations with God aren't so deplorable, but my mental state was elsewhere.

After fighting with the ocean like this for over nine hours we were both exhasted, terrified, weak, and we felt alone, frightening and hopeless; but I didn't realize that the journey was far from being over.

Our final test was at the Indian Cay inlet right outside the entry way to the West End.  We had been forewarned by another boat already safe in the marina by way of radio that this end part would be the toughest.  This is because the waves go from a depth of 500 feet to 50 feet to 6 feet all within 200 yards.  They.  Are.  Massive.  Nate told me to hold on and we told each other that we loved one another and then we went bow first straight into the rollers.  It's hard to describe what it was like inside.  It was probably one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen, but my fear for my life and Nathan's absolutely turned it into one of the most horrific moments ever.  Seen the movie White Squall?  Yeah, kinda like that.  There were even people in the marina who were standing on the point in foul weather gear video tapping our arrival into the marina with their camcorders!!!    World's greatest boating disasters perhaps?  We hung on for a good 35 minutes through those rollers and then at the perfect moment, Nate turned the sailboat to face the entry way of the marina at West End.  The sailboat literally surfed into the teeny tiny entrance way.  People were actually smiling and cheering.  I just remember seeing one old balding man shaking his head in disbelief while smiling at us.  He gave Nate the thumbs up.  

That evening at dinner in the Marina restaurant - where we indulged in our favorite food and drink, we walked past a few tables who very loudly announced; 'There they are!' or 'Here they come!'  'Here are those two brave kids!'  It seemed everyone was really proud of us and wanted to ask us what the experience was like.  We were the talk on the dock for a few days after that.   

So after all this tramatic drama, I have to ask myself what is the lesson?  In my brain I have a mini conversation;  'Now grasshopper Kate, what have you learned?' ' Ah yogi master Kate, that is a very good question.  I now know that the only constant thing in life is change.  I've learned that I'm not a boat person and that I don't love sailing, in fact I don't know if I even like it.  I've learned that my experiences on land with my wonderful husband and other people were the fondest of this entire adventure, and finally and most importantly, I've also learned with every fiber in my body that HE saves'.  'Ah grasshopper Kate, you learned well.  Very good little grasshopper, very good'.   

nice youngins'

Hope Town

While waiting on Jackie O's necessary boat parts in Marsh Harbour, (which I am very happy to announce have finally arrived), Nate and I decided to take the 25 minute Albury Ferry across the water and spend the day in Hope Town, Elbow Cay.  Hope Town is a quaint little village that was founded by Loyalists who were escaping the American Revolution.  It's known for the candy-striped lighthouse which is one of only two kerosene lit lighthouses in all the world.  The architecture reminded me of little doll houses as each building or home is brightly painted in various shades of pink, blue, yellow, green and even purple.  A very charming little area.  We walked the entire island on foot.  On one end of the island, we found a cute little aqua blue house with sea green trim called the Sugar Shack.  We indulged in a few sweet drinks and then made our way to the other end of the island where a white sandy beach awaited our arrival.  We spent the remainder of the day exploring the palm-edged shoreline and studied curious creatures from the ocean.  The varied beauty of the island was such a gift for both of us and Hope Town will remain a sweet spot in my memory.  

Hoping to return to the sea-cluded Hope Town Beach

The Sugar Shack

Hope Town Homes

Hope Town Starfish

Just for fun...

Thinking of living on a sailboat for a while?  Here are some tips for the semi high-maintainence chick.

   Just in case any of my beloved semi high-maintenance girlfriends back home get smooth-talked by their husbands into living abroad, I thought I might have a little fun and come up with some crucial tips for staying sane.  These are random but all equally important.  Right before Nate and I left for our adventure, an older gentleman joked; 'It's not going to be all suntanning on the top deck Kate'.  I laughed politely but thought; 'yah right dude.  You have no idea who I am'.  Turns out, he was right.   Therefore; heed the following contents ladies...HEED the contents.

Topic one: Beautification.

1.  Alright, numero uno.  You don't need to bring all of your make-up.  Trust me.  At first, I was wearing it - all of it, daily. Eventually, it just started to melt off of my face so I started wearing less.  This allowed more sun to get through and lightly tan my skin so I needed much less as the trip went on.  Wearing very little make-up is surprisingly freeing and not something I would think that would be exciting, but it is.  

2.  So, number two.  You're going to need to take a deep one here ladies.  The toilets on the boat don't 'flush' , you pump.  Breathe.  Still there?  Good.  Yeah, I know, sick.  So be prepared and expect to pump the handle like 10-15 times for a number one and twice that for a number two.   

3.  You can't use your blow-dryer, curling iron or hair straightener when you are anchored out.  Don't panic.  I found that if I just told myself I was giving my hair a two, sometimes three day deep condition (thanks Cathy) and to think about all of the vitamins and natural oils that my hair was getting, it was more manageable.  Mind over matter here girls.  We're good at that.  Now, IF you've surpassed a week, ask the hubby to take you into a marina to use the electricity.  Crying helps. 

4.  You don't typically shower on your boat.  It's really rare because the shower head is actually the sink tap in the washroom which has no water pressure.  Tasha, I can hear you laughing at me from here.  Also, it's important to remember that water from the boat is used for drinking.  Public washrooms aren't really that bad.  Bring flip-flops.

5.  The sun is addictive, especially if you're from Canandialand.  It's hard not to sprawl out on the top deck all day long and bask in all of it's glory.  Limit your outdoor time to small doses especially if you're blonde or if you don't want premature wrinkles.  Cute fabric headbands, sporty baseball caps (with the right outfit), scarves and wide brimmed old Hollywood hats have all saved my butt.  If you've dyed your hair it will obviously go a few shades lighter so plan for that.  Bombshell beached blonde - a.k.a Bleach - not a great colour to start with. 

Topic two:  Eating Properly and Working Out

6.  Cooking on the boat is fun if you enjoy cooking to begin with; however, it can also be very, very frustrating.  There may only be two burners and a small oven (if you're lucky) in a sailboat.  Microwave? Nope.  Blender?  Nope.  Coffee maker?  Nope.  Espresso Machine? NOPE!  No electricity remember?  The fridge is miniscule and the freezer is about as deep as your Vogue magazine and as wide as your mascara tube.  Good luck storing your ice cubes AND your vodka in there.  Ain't gonna happen.  So, instead find a few good low calorie low fat meals and cook them regularly.  Your hubby will soon get sick of these meals and offer to take you out for dinner.  You won't even have to ask!

7.  If you have an ambitious husband, good pick; but, he may feel the constant desire to 'provide' by trying his hand at fishing.  Let him.  It will give you some time away from one another - seriously girls, a 40' boat is NOT large, and if he catches some fresh fish, it's a tasty FREE dinner with tons of protein.  YUMMAY!

8.  Everything in the Caribbean is like 50% more expensive than it is in the states.  I was shocked to see a single row of RITZ crackers for two Bahamian dollars, (that's two bucks American).  Stock up on everything before you go.  If you love veggies like me, get ready to give your credit card a workout. 

 

9.  Every semi high-maintenance chick knows that you have to really, really want to exercise to do it.  It's the same living on a boat.  Expect for it to be extremely impractical.  This is especially true living abroad since the sun is working against you - it WANTS you to worship it.  Also, you're lucky if you see land for three days in a row.  Walking 4, 590 times around the boat just isn't the same.  Finally, if you actually do get onto an island there may not be any sidewalks to run on.  But as a semi high-maintenance chick, you'll make it work and work with what you've got.  Eventually, I learned that swimming and setting up the bike trainer on the back of the boat were just as effective as 45 minutes at the gym.   

10.  A sundowner is not a want, it's a need.  Stock up before you go, but be picky with what you buy.  There is a really delicious beer in the states called 64 Miller lite.  64 calories + O fat grams = happy wifey; therefore, happy wifey, happy lifey.

Topic three:  Embarrassing moments

11. If you run the boat into the ground, don't panic.  Stay at the helm and then warn the husband.  In my experience, other sailors will see that you were steering and will help get your boat un-stuck by coming to the rescue within a quick three sometimes even two minutes.   One time, there were four separate captains that came out in their dingys all at once!!!  It was like they were racing to help us.  At that point, I wondered why we wasted all that money on boat insurance.  

12.  There is a really big opening under the bed mattress that will give you access to store all of your non-perishable food.  Make sure you close the hatch before you climb back into bed to sleep.  One night, I woke Nate up to complain that it felt like I was sleeping on a steep mountain.  In the morning we checked the hatch and sure enough, it had been open all night long.  The corner of the mattress where my head rests was crammed in the opening.   I knew it was my fault and I admitted the mistake.  Us ladies know that just because we're semi high-maintenance doesn't mean that we believe we're without fault. 

 

13.  By some, the bathroom is called the 'head'.  I don't know why but I find it extremely ridiculous to use that word, so I refuse.  I have no doubt in my mind that some old perverted sailor thought he was funny.  Ah, sorry, nope.  Also, keep in mind, you're allowed to refuse to do things when you're semi high-maintenance; but within reason.

14.  Husband and wifey time is oh so important, but keep in mind sound travels very well on water.  Nuff said.

Topic four: A piece of ship

15. Every night, there are weird and unusual sounds that come from your boat.  Don't try to figure out what the sounds are - that's the hubby's job.  Instead, give them appropriate nicknames.  We had a growling dog, massive rice krispies popping at random, an injured walrus, an air compressor and a sad camel onboard.  How's that for adventure?    

16.  Things get dirty really, really quickly.  If you're a clean freak, you have to let some of this go.  I find that if I start a sentance with 'WE need to think about cleaning today' rather than just doing it myself, it hints to the hubby that you need to help me cause you got me into this in the first place, so you owe me a diamond, or a king sized bed, or a house or something when we get back to Calgary...plus help with the cleaning.

17. You have to do the dishes in a teeny tiny sink with very little water every, single, day, at least twice.  It sucks, but if you think about how clean your gorgeous wedding and engagement rings get it makes it much better.

18.  Since there isn't a washer or dryer on a sailboat, you're going to be forced to go to a laundry mat.  Stay calm.  This is what you NEED: a ton of quarters and yes I mean a ton, a book, a nail file, a diet coke, a gossip mag, some chewing gum, obviously your clothes, your detergent, your dryer sheets and a fresh bag to put all of the clean clothes in.  You'll look much cuter if you have something to do while you're waiting and that way you aren't tempted to 'people watch' which can be easily misconstrued as staring, especially since you're probably in a third world country.  

Topic five:  Shopping.

19.  There isn't any.  However, I've discovered there is way more to life.  This doesn't mean I'm not ever going to the mall again, it just means I've found just as much happiness if not more in something else. 

Topic six:  Making Friends...awww, this topic title is so sweet.

20. The sailing community is an older crowd which in my opinion is really, really cool.  Older people are super smart, they're incredibly nice, they are especially easy to get along with, they know way more than you do, they can teach you from their mistakes and they give you things if you hang out with them.   I'm telling you, if you are both under the age of 30, be prepared to be known as 'the young ones'.  You'll start getting admiring looks from other well-seasoned sailors and everyone will want to help you, take care of you, take you under their wing, feed you, and have you over for happy hour.  This is definitely not a bad thing.  Embrace the love!

21.  Now, having said this, you also have to get used to hearing from other boaters about how babies are concieved on boating trips.  They love to warn you about this fact and then they really bring it home by winking, nudging you with their elbows and laughing for longer than necessary.  However, if you're nice, you'll just smile and nod and act like it's the first time you've ever heard it.

22.  Everyone (except Nathan and I ) have boat cards.  I find them totally goofy because they're basically business cards with computer graphic palm trees and parrots on them, but I guess it's a way for everyone to stay in touch with one another.   We like SKYPE because it's free and easy.  We also only go to ports with free Internet.  Just because I'm semi high-maintenance doesn't mean I'm not practical - right girls?   

Topic seven:  Staying alive in a foreign country and in your marriage.

23. If you're traveling in the states, the Bahamas or in the Caribbean, and you are out alone, you may start to notice that cars are honking regularly.  Forewarning!  The drivers aren't asking you to move over or politely letting you know that they're coming up behind you.  They think you're hot and they want your attention.  Do what you normally do at home when a neanderthal tries to flaunt himself in some lame way.  Completely ignore him.  We don't pander to idiots.  However, one of my personal favorite triumphs was after being honked at, I had a sudden compulsion to stop dead in my tracks, turn to the honking dorks and wave like a five year old kid waves to her mom in the audience at her first school concert.  Both guys looked completely shocked as they drove by and I felt totally empowered.  'Didn't think you were honking at a complete whack-job did you?'   That'll teach em.

24.  Time away from the hubby is important.   I found that about an hour or two a day is really good for the relationship and for bringing back exciting stories to talk about over the rest of the day.  It helps if you own a little dingy.  Ours is called 'Shrimp'.  That way he can go for a ride and leave you to your reading or your private sugared cereal binges.  Opposite ends of the boat work too, but on certain days, it may not be enough.  In this case, swimming laps around the boat is a good option.  Let's face it, as much as we love our significant others, we all need a little alone time.

25.  Hopefully you and your man aren't 'fighters' because if you are, everyone will be able to hear your tiff.  Definitely not attractive.  Nate and I thankfully don't fight, we disagree and because I have pride about what others might hear, I would call our disagreements: Controlled Pantomime Discussion.  Basically, during a verbal disagreement that I'm sensing is about to get louder, I'll begin the Controlled Pantomime Discussion with a facial expression that reads; OK, OK, WE NEED TO FIGURE THIS OUT SILENTLY!!!  This gesture is the cue which obviously means don't talk out loud anymore, the others can hear us.  My facial expression will occasionally be returned by Nate with verbal words, or a blank confused look to which I'll respond with another face and possibly some upper body movements that read; HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW WHAT WE'RE DOING HERE?!?!  MIME DANG IT!!!  Which he then responds with a knowing facial expression; OH, OK, OK, and the movements begin!  These exciting mute conversations are sometimes assisted by various props around the boat and possibly huffing, puffing or rolling eyes, which actually help - it's sort of like charades, but there are major extras!  Personally, I think it's brilliant cause we impressively solve the issue without actually saying a word, all while maintaining our dignity and not disrupting the peace our neighbours!!!!  Chapman would be so very proud.  Sixth love language?  I think so.

Finally, a word about being semi high-maintenence.  This is NOT something to be ashamed of.  If fact, it's something to be proud of.  I believe that us girls have ever right to reasonably ask for what we want.  Essentially, all we want is to be happy!  Initially on this trip, I thought that I was loosing a bit of myself and the girly girl side by seccumbing to the oddities of boat and travel life.  But really, I didn't.  I'm still the same girl with the same wants and desires, but I would say that I've gained something else.  I really believe that I've attained a true appreciation for all that I had at home and also an understanding of what many others around me have lived without, and happily lived without!  I didn't believe that I could live happily without my make-up or a t.v or a gym membership or Lululemon.  I completely took advantage of so many things and didn't realize how lucky I was to have them, and now I'm realizing how lucky I am to have lived without them!  The semi high-maintenance girl can be happier with less.  It's fun and challenging to work with what you've got, and to always try to find the silver lining.  In the end I'm lovin' it and everything that I've learned I'm going to keep close.  Semi high-maintenence girl survives AND thrives and is growing all the time.  

Weren't we supposed to be in the BVI's by now?

Woodrow T. Wilson

All things come to him who waits - provided he knows what he is waiting for

     Hopefully, somebody gave Mr. Wilson a briefcase full of money or at least, I don't know, a M & M blizzard from Dairy Queen or something cause man, the 28th Prez was bang on.  If you read Nate's latest post, you'll know that we have been stuck in Marsh Harbour which is embarrassingly a million miles away from where we were sure we'd be by now.  At first we were both really bitter and disappointed about Jackie's injury; but after really thinking about what we wanted from this sailing trip, we discovered that we have everything that we want right here in Marsh.  We decided that we're going to switch our attitudes around and try to make the best of our Marsh Harbour hold-up.

     At the end of each day, we force ourselves to come up with some of the most crazy and fun day adventures that we can think of and then we go out the following morning and do them!  It's been pretty funny coming up with lavish tropical fantasy situations and then trying to live them out.  For example, two days ago we rode 'shrimp' to a secluded white sand beach and I swam in the clear turquoise waters while Nate tried his hand at spear fishing in an attempt to catch us dinner.  Did he catch anything?  No.  Did my ears get sunburned?  Yes...pretty badly actually; but, it was still great.  Yesterday, we rode our bikes around the island and found an off-shore reef where we snorkeled the better part of the afternoon away.  We finished the day off with two Corona Lites while the sun went down, and then we made mad, crazy love in the sand.  It was incredible!  Alright, I'm just kidding about that one part Grandma, we would never, EVER drink alcohol on a beach...ever.  

But really, in all truthfulness, these little escapes are making our delay seem like we have chosen to be here.  I guess like good-ole Woody said; 'provided he knows what he is waiting for'.  Well we did, and we do, and we're going out and getting it.  Take that buddy.

p.s  Being a true, full-fledged Canadian, (I love this excuse), I totally had to look up whether Wilson was the 27th or the 28th U.S President.

p.p.s and at first I had to reaffirm to myself that Woodrow T. Wilson actually was a former president.  

Surprise surprise, more work for Jackie O.

To save some money, Kate and I decided that we would anchor Jackie O out of the Marsh Harbour Bay Marina.  Anchoring out is very tricky.  First, you are required to stay a certain distance from other boats for obvious reasons, next you have to make sure you don't trip another boat's anchor - which is easy to do, and finally you are forced to guess whether or not your anchor has dug into the sea bed.  There have been instances where boats will drift into one another in the middle of the night causing serious damage and stress.  But we were willing to give it a try.  Little did we know, anchoring out on that particular evening would be the cause of a very large problem I'm currently trying to deal with.    

After a beautiful sunset we relaxed on the boat and then decided to go to bed.  That's when the wind decided to pick up.  Unbeknownst to us, this would be one of the strongest winds of the month.  The wind caused the boat to 'swim' back and forth constantly.  We were definitely rocking.  At around 3:00 a.m, an unfamiliar thunking noise coming from the stern woke me up.  Something was rattling around where it shouldn't have been.  But not really knowing what sort of sounds were 'normal' while anchoring out in torrential winds, I left it to look at the next day.  The following morning, Kate and I weighed anchor and cruised the boat around into the harbour.  We got all of the dock lines set up and head in to the marina with the wind pushing us rather quickly.  Once we recovered from slightly crashing into the dock, we looked at each other with a sigh of relief - at least we had survived.

I decided to take a look at the thunking noise from the previous night, so I got on my wetsuit, jumped in the murky waters and dived under the boat to see what I could see.  I found that there was something wrong with my partial skeg rudder.  Turns out that the bottom joint is loose.  Great.  This means, I may have to get the boat hauled out of the water to get the work done.  I've got my fingers crossed that I can identify the problem and fix it while tied up at the dock.  I tried to replace part of my steering cable (which is a broken greaser unit) and while removing the cable from the conduit, it jammed up.  This caused an entire renovation of the steering helm which caused an entire removal of the cable and housing systems.  I decide that I'm going to try to find the parts that I'm missing, but after riding my bike around numerous boat yards, I learn that nobody on the island knows what I'm talking about.  I come back to the boat annoyed and tired.  I realize that I have to order in the parts from the U.S.  This means air freight, Fed Ex and the sound of ka-ching going off in my head.  

Currently, Kate and I are stuck in Marsh waiting for the parts to show up.  While that's happening, I have to get back into the water and fix the original problem - the loose rudder.  At this point, I'm ready to trade the boat in for some money or a fast moter yacht that will take me where I want to go, when I want to go.  Something that I didn't realize about Sailing is that there is an awful lot of sitting around and waiting.  Waiting for reasonable weather, waiting for safe winds, waiting for replacement parts to show up or waiting for the boat batteries to charge.  I'm patient in some ways, but in other ways not at all.  This whole boating experience has in some regards made me more cautious about what I jump head-first into.   There is one thing that is for sure; I know a hell of a lot more about boats now than I ever wanted to.  Hopefully this helps me in the future.

Abaco Admirer

It is just too adorable.  Nate has a mini admirer who follows him around Treasure Cay like a little puppy dog.   He's a 10 year-old Bahamian boy named David and this little man literally clings to Nathan.  Everywhere Nate goes, David goes.  

David came to Jackie O early in the morning.  I was reading quietly on the top deck when I sensed someone staring at me.   I looked up to see this adorable little black kid sitting on his sparkly purple bike near the port side of Jackie O.  He asked me with a shy smile; ' 'sxcuse me Miss, is Nate here?'.  I was slightly taken aback that the boy knew my husband's name but I said; 'Sure!  Just hold on a second'.  I called down into the cabin; 'Nate, there's someone here to see you.'  David proceeded to allow himself to jump onto the boat (which is a huge no-no unless you're invited to come aboard by the Captain), and he sits himself down across from me on the top deck and just stares.  I kinda thought to myself, maybe he's a beggar or wants us to give him food or something, so I smile politely, remove myself from the unusual situation, and go down into the cabin.  Nate passes me on the way up and he gives me a gentle smile.  I figure everything is okay. I decide to try to make our little guest feel welcome, so I climb back up with a plate of gingersnaps and offer a few cookies to our new friend.  He looks at the cookies, looks at me, and proceeds to take the entire plate right out of my hands and eats every single cookie!  There must have been at least fifteen gingersnaps on that plate!  Nate and I give each other a silent look and I giggle.  Nate goes on to explain to me that he met David the day before while he was fishing on the boardwalk.  David nods his head in agreement but doesn't make eye contact with me.  Maybe he's scared that I'll take the cookies away.  For the remainder of the day, David is Nate's little cling-on.  He rides his bike beside Nate, he walks wherever Nate goes, and when Nate tries to kindly say to David that 'My wife Kate and I are going to go and have dinner now' it takes a minute or two for David to register that we might want some time alone.

The next day, David brings his friend Jacob.  The two of them ask me if Nate would go fishing with them.  Somehow, I didn't ever think that I'd be playing the mother role on this trip, but I holler down to Nate; 'honey, are you free to come up and play with David and his friend?'.  Nate comes up with a welcoming grin.  He's so nice to the boys.  He kindly explains to them that he has some work to do on the boat.  They both understand with a knowing nod and then David asks; 'then can we borrow your fishin' rods Nate?'.  Nate replies; 'yes you may' and David flashes his brilliant white teeth.

On Saturday, David is curious about an old camo coloured Military box that Nathan and I found on the beach the week before.  Nate shows him how to open and close it, and explains to him that he can put items in the box, lock it up and put it in the water and the items won't get wet.  David listens carefully with excited eyes.  Nate tells him that the box was once used to store ammunition for guns in the military and I think that David's eyes might pop right out of his head.  Nate sees the excitement on his face as well and asks David if he would like to keep the box for himself.  David turns around and runs in the opposite direction leaving Nate standing there alone. Within a few moments, David brings a 'compadre' to help him haul the box back to wherever he keeps his special treasures. 

David visits us everyday now.  Today, I offered him a coke and he actually said 'thank you'.  He comfortable and freely plops himself beside Nathan and sits unusually close to him while Nate reads or uses the computer or sands the teak on the boat.  I think that the Abaco Admirer loves Nate about as much as anything and as long as we're still in Treasure Cay, I will have to share my husband with a 10 year-old Bahamian boy.  

Weda Mix (WEiland + HoyDA = Weda)

East meets West

Our last evening with Mom and Dad Hoyda.  We attended the weekly Island Pot Luck on Great Guana Cay and enjoyed the evening with some fellow Canadians from Nova Scotia. 

 

From Sea to See

It is with mixed feelings that Don and I bid farewell to Jackie 0 today, Thursday Feb 12 2009.  After ten days, having fallen to sleep with gentle rocking and the sound of lapping waves, and awakening to the smells of fresh perked coffee and cinnamon sprinkled oatmeal, we head home.

     I came on board with very real fears -not of the water but of the confinement as I have struggled for years with claustrophobia.  The thought of closing the hatch over my head after descending seven steps into a hold nearly prevented me from coming.  But with the help of the Captain, the Admiral and the first Mate, I did not spend even one night under the stars.

     Among the things I'm going to miss are Kate's morning smile, her companionship, our daily constitutionals, long talks, sun-downers and hugs not to mention her amazing gourmet meals prepared lovingly everyday and night on three burners with two pots and one pan.  I'm going to miss Nate's quiet confidence as Captain of our vessel, his daily care-taking of his wife and his ship, his patience with his in-laws and his knowledge of all things necessary for safe and satisfying ocean living.  

     We wish our children the best in all things as they sojourn on for several more months learning life lessons that many of us, much longer in the tooth, are only now 'getting'.  Savor the moments as they are, right here, right now.

Many thanks Kate and Nate

-love Mom and Dad