"Signs, signs, everywhere a sign..."

October 1, 2005 - 1:48 AM

Why does everything have to start so frickin' early in this tour group?  Thor doesn't even so much as lift his head off the floor to investigate as we get out of bed.   We have to actually wake the damn dog up to get him moving.    God bless REM sleep. 

One year ago to the day that we departed Dana Point, CA (I love it when that happens), we again say "farewell" to the U.S. and head off for the gin clear waters of the Bahamas.  Fred wants to be underway no later than 3:00 a.m., so no time for my prophetic tea this morning.  Hell, with only four hours of sleep, I'm too tired to even boil water, so no loss there.   As I pull DiveAdx out of the slip, I feel energized by the thought that we are finally on our way to Nirvana.  This is what we've been waiting for, what we've worked for over the past year.  The Bahamas...cool.

It's pitch black and I can't see a damn thing in the channel.  Even the channel markers don't seem to be all that lit up or maybe it's just my night vision fading with age...who knows.  At any rate, I'm pretty sure that I'm going to hit something on the way out and we'll end up stuck in the channel, I mean, it would be just our luck to get this far only to suffer yet another setback.  Hey, it's been that kind of summer.  Nothing would surprise me at this point and since I'm the pessimist between us it's my job to calculate all that could go wrong at all the wrong times.  I seem to be at the top of my game this morning.

The trip is only 51 miles which doesn't sound like much, but depending on the Gulfstream conditions, we may not average more than 5kts, so we could be in for a long day.  We haven't even made it out of the channel and the waves are starting to crash over the bow...huh???  What the hell, Captain...didn't you check the weather?  Yes, yes, everything should be fine.  God I love it when he's definitive.   We get past the last bouy and decide that the weather is not conducive to flybridge operation, so it's down to the pilothouse we go.

Thor is now fully awake and hunkered down in the pilothouse, once again, wishing thumbs would have come about in his evolutionary process.  El Capitan is trying to initiate the autopilot tracking, but appears to be having some difficulty.  He can't seem to remember the exact process...oh great.  Okay, let's leave that for now and get the radar set up.  Trouble with that too???  Oh man, we have definitely been at dock too long.  If Fred can't remember how to operate the electronics, we have a problem.  Never the one to panic, Fred continues to talk himself through button pushing and questioning why things aren't working.  Given that he's not instilling alot of confidence, I suggest a few techniques which, to MY surprise actually work.   Oh yeah, that's how that works.   It's all starting to come back now...good, that's good.  Thor and I seriously consider what the hell we're doing here.  I mean, if I'm telling Fred how something works, we're really screwed.  There are several other ships out here and after a few minutes of review, Fred gets them marpa'd on the radar.  The last straw comes when Fred sees a red light off in the distance and says "we better keep a good eye on him so we don't intersect".  What???  Fred, that's a port side light, the guy is already passed us and heading away...remember, red lights, port side, we're passing port to port...any of this sounding familiar?   Oh right, yes, you're right, I'm wrong".  That's it, you're stripped of your stripes Captain!    Not that I don't thoroughly enjoy hearing "you're right, I'm wrong", it's just slightly disconcerting to hear it in a situation that usually requires Fred being right and me being somewhat less than informed (never use the term wrong when discussing one's behavior), shall we say .  I start reciting to myself, "it's only 10 hours, it's only 10 hours". 

We enter the Gulfstream and conditions are not too bad for the crossing, but certainly far from perfect.  But of course, who'd want perfect?  What the hell would I write about if everything was perfect?  We've got waves of 4-6 feet, 15-20 kt winds out of the north creating a good amount of chop, and abeam seas, FUN!  Our speed drops to 4kts.  Fuuuccckkk.  My enthusiasm has decidedly dwindled since leaving the slip and since Fred seems to be on the fast track to recalling operational procedures, I figure my moment of brilliance on the bridge is over so why not take a nap?  Thor and I head to the salon and with me on the settee and Thor on the floor jammed between the table legs, we snooze while visions of white sand beaches and tennis balls dance in our heads.

After 11 hours (no, I haven't been napping the whole time), we finally arrive South Bimini.  We pull into Bimini Sands Condos & Marina, park the boat, do the customs thing, wash the boat, walk the dog, take a shower and declare cocktail time.  We plan to stay here just a day or two then we're off to cruise the area for some fishing and diving before heading to the Exumas.  Alright!

Next day we head off to give Mr. T some much deserved beach time.  He hasn't been to the beach since Roatan.   Obviously he's forgotten the concept of swimming & fetching.  It actually takes Fred going out after the ball and coaxing him in until he "gets it".  Hey, he's blonde remember?  Or, maybe he was actually just getting Fred to check the shark infested waters (that's what the brochure said) before deciding to offer himself up as a morning snack.   Maybe he's not as forgetful as we think.  Given that he gets US to do things for HIM, I'm inclined to believe he has a method to his madness.

It's a beautiful day and I take the morning rainbow as a sign of all the good things to come.  We spend the day on North Bimini visiting all the must see places, Bimini Big Game Club,  The Compleat Angler and of course, End of the World Bar.  After 10 years, we returned to End of the World and begin looking for our previously left signatures.  Sara Lee explains the entire place had been taken over by termites and was completely torn down and rebuilt in 2000.  Bummer.  From the looks of the place though, lots of signatures and massive amounts of underwear, etc., hanging about, business has been good, so with marker in hand, we once again, leave our mark. 

All seems to be in good order and going as planned (usually the first sign something is wrong) until that evening when one of my crowns decides to fall out (what'd I tell ya).  Isn't that special?  Fortunately, I have a tooth repair kit on board (Notice to all cruisers - get one of these) which allows me to reattach the crown, if only temporarily.  Fred seems more concerned about this issue than me, which again, is a surprise (where is my husband and what have you done with him?) and decides that I either need to fly back to Ft. Lauderdale or we need to head to Freeport.  First off, I didn't wait all this time to get to the Bahamas to only head BACK to Florida so that's a "no".  We're told that the only dentists in the Bahamas are either in Nassau or Freeport.  One does comes here to Bimini, but only every three months, so that's not going to work.  Diving is obviously out until I can get this fixed, so that sucks and the weather coming in (Tropical Storm Tammy) is probably going to hold us here several days longer than we originally anticipated.  So much for leisurely cruising and diving Bimini.   Now usually, I'd see this type of downhill spiral as a sign, but instead I decide to view this as an opportunity to experience international health care and am reminded of the time I did that in Barra.  Hopefully, the crown replacement will go a bit better than the dog bite incident.  Until Grand Bahama...