January, cuts, cold fronts and our arrival in George Town
Three weeks of sunshine and low winds ended with the New
Year and 2018 brought unstable weather to the Exumas. The tail of the low that
battered the US East coast with freezing temperatures brought us higher winds
and rain.
We started the Exuma shuffle, waiting for a weather window
to go to Georgetown on Great Exuma. The shuffle meant sidestepping waves and
wind to find a protective anchorage and occasionally returning to Staniel Cay
to provision. The 30 mile sail south in
the open ocean required a day or two of
calmer weather that would lay the seas down and allow us to enter from the
banks into the ocean.
Each area of the world has its own
particular sailing challenges, which is one reason why cruising can be
both ‘hair-raising’ and exciting at the
same time. For the Bahamian Exuma
Islands, this challenge is navigating the ‘cuts’. The Exumas lie in a line between thousands of
square miles of shallow banks and the deep ocean of the Exuma sound. Cuts are the narrow openings between these
islands, where millions of gallons of seawater crowd to pour in and out the
banks with every tide cycle. This not
only generates huge currents, but if the wind should blow even mildly against
the current then steep, rough and dangerous seas can build up. In transiting them, timing the tides with a
close eye on the wind is critical.
After waiting a week for better
weather to make an ocean passage, we became impatient and decided transiting a
cut in less than perfect conditions was called for (note to self: patience is
an important virtue in sailing). We
finally had a forecast with calmer winds the next day, and we were ready to
go. The night before leaving, we had another
long night of howling winds and squalls that were actually still howling so
hard in the morning, we couldn’t get safely out of the cove we were in at first
light and had to turn back and anchor again until things settled done.
Steadfastly ignoring this warning that things
may not go so well, we made for the cut.
The wind was down, the tide near slack and the sea looked calm, so how
bad could it be? Another joy of sailing
is that one never stops learning. While
it is technically correct you want to enter a cut at slack tide with no wind,
this does not account for the fact that roaring winds for days before these
‘ideal conditions’ occur make them well, shall we say, ‘less ideal’.
A washing machine (yes, water
included but not soap) is what if felt like once we hit the cut. The waves were
so big and steep the world felt like it was spinning as we bucked and bobbed
and rolled on our sides. Water poured
over the coaming into the cockpit and we had trouble standing upright. Cabinets down below flew open and emptied and
books danced across the cabin floor. Our
grand daughter howled (rightly so), our daughter felt queasy and our son- in- law
looked at us like whatever trust he had was quickly evaporating. The whole scene didn’t improve much once we
were through the cut and its effects, so we soon decided we actually weren’t in
that much of a hurry, and turned around.
The return through the cut was far milder as
we were going with the waves, and we were soon back in flat water and anchored
in Rudder Cay Pond. It was exciting, and
because perhaps it was a bit traumatic to some, we just refer to the whole
thing now as ‘the Event’.
January 11 the winds finally calmed down for a
couple of days and we weighed anchor at dawn from Black Point and exited the
banks through Dotham Cut. As you can imagine our anticipation was high after
our last “event”, but the tide was slack and the winds light and we slipped
through easily. The passage was
uneventful in calm seas and we arrived in Elizabeth Harbor in Georgetown seven
hours later without any incidents.
Arriving in Georgetown was exciting and something we had
looked forward to since we were here 15 years ago. The memories came flooding back as we motored
by Monument beach, Hamburger beach and Volleyball beach before anchoring
outside Sand Dollar beach.
There are 165 boats anchored in Georgetown right now. Some
return every year to spend the winter, some leave their boats in one of the
Hurricane holes, and some like us, are passing through on their way south. There are daily volleyball games on the
beach, water aerobics, ladies lunches, kids snorkeling trips and so on, all
organized by cruisers. It is a wonderful community of sailors from all over the
world sharing knowledge, skills and good times.
Georgetown is where Mika, Eric and Axelia will leave us in ten
days to go back to Sweden and we can feel the upcoming shift of their too
quickly approaching departure. The past month has been a rare gift for all of
us. To be able to spend seven weeks on a sailboat with your family is what I
call quality time.
Like your sculpture, words are felt and seen. Even knowing the outcome was “safe and sound”, I still tense reading “the event”, I glimpse a world of people’s from many nations, connected by their choice to sail, having fun and share by knowledge... and yes, 7 weekend shared, 3 generations, on a sailboat, in the Caribbean, layers of blessings... such a gift. I hear the laughter, and feel the flow of love with each wave and ripple that laps along Mi’raj.
ReplyDeleteWell you are really making the best of life's opportunities. I write this from the terrace of our Andalusian cortijo. I can look down the valley to the Mediterranean sea below. We have been here a week. The neighbours have been out for the weekend working on the steep terraces that surround us. So we were given a bag of avocados, a bag of oranges and some firewood. The nights are cold. We are feeling at home here!
ReplyDeleteBuenos noches.
Fabulous and graphic description of the trials of your lives’ voyage. It opens a window for us when reading your experiences. Patience, a good thing to remember when making decision, for all of us...January thaw is upon us, birds, bugs and people are feeling the pull of Spring. The phoebees are trying to nest already, despite the arctic colds we’ve had. Enjoy the last few days with your family.
ReplyDelete