Attitude Adjustment in Abaco 2001 Part 13: Finale

Attitude Adjustment in Abaco 2001 Part 13: Finale
Dr.Ralph <rbundy@cfl.rr.com> -- on Wednesday 8/22/01 @ 6:01 p.m. EST

Saturday, July 21
At 7 AM I am sitting at Attitude's rain-soaked helm listening over thunder to WX03 in Palm Beach. During the night the low has intensified; it has spawned a large thunderstorm out over the Northwest Providence Channel to our south. There are flood warnings for much of South and Central Florida. The marine forecast calls for SW winds, 10-15 knots, with scattered thunderstorms, becoming 20 knots with numerous thunderstorms by this afternoon. There is a ragged chop on the ocean, and very dark clouds to the south.

At breakfast I lay the situation out for Bunny: we have maybe four hours of marginal weather before it gets ugly. We can get up and go now; the alternative would be to leave Attitude with Tony, fly to Daytona, and return possibly next week to bring her home. Or, I could put Bunny on a plane and send an SOS to Gary M in Lauderdale; he could be here in 4-6 hours and we could punch our way through bad weather to South Florida. But she'll have none of that; she's ready to go. "How long will it take us to get to Florida if we go straight across?"

Lake Worth Inlet (Palm Beach) is 56 nm to our west; even if it's sloppy the run shouldn't take us more than two-and-a-half hours. Once we get in the Intracoastal Waterway we should be able to make adequate progress northward toward Daytona, even if the weather deteriorates. The ICW is mostly "No Wake" from Palm Beach to Stuart, and it will take 3-4 hours just to traverse that 20 nm stretch. From Stuart north the only significant No Wake zones are at Oak Hill, just south of New Smyrna. We could save substantial time by bypassing the No Wake area between Palm Beach and Stuart if we run from West End to either St. Lucie Inlet or Fort Pierce. We decide to start for Palm Beach, but will keep the option of changing course for the more northern ports should the weather allow it.

We leave Old Bahama at 8:30; the wind is out of the SW at about 10-15, there is a 2-foot chop, it's sloppy, but we're able to make 22-23 knots without too much discomfort. The storm to our south is drifting NE, so we won't have to deal with it. The sky is mottled gray ahead of us, but we don't see any black, and there's no rain on the radar. As we run west away from the storm, the chop settles, and 10 nm from OBB we're making 25 knots. After 30 nm we are more than halfway to Lake Worth Inlet, and the weather remains settled. We stop to stretch and discuss a course change; St. Lucie is 44 nm to the NW, and there is actually a little blue sky up that way. If we can bypass the extensive No Wake areas south of St. Lucie, we have a good chance of getting home tonight, so we elect to head in that direction. For a while the ride is a little smoother as we are taking the seas more on the beam. As the day progresses and the weather evolves, the wind picks up; within an hour it's 15-20, and we're crashing over 3-4 footers. There's something else: Attitude doesn't sound quite right. I'm becoming gradually aware of it; the pitch of the motors is not what I'm used to. And her fuel efficiency has dropped off, not much, but it is there. 25 nm out of St. Lucie I pull back for a moment and listen to her; now she sounds fine. But as I throttle back up, the starboard motor overrevs, and I have to pull back again. We wonder if something is fouling one of the props; I put her in reverse for a few seconds, throttle up, then gently bring her forward. This time there is no overrev, but she still doesn't sound right.

As we approach St. Lucie, the landmass of Florida begins to deflect the wind, and as the SW fetch decreases, so does the sea. At 15 nm to go it's down to about two feet and we are able to make 25-27 knots; also, the mystery sound has disappeared. Ahead, for the first time, we see dark clouds. The radar looks clear; all I can see is the line that corresponds to the coast. But after I tweak it I am able to discern the outlines of two cells that are overlying the echo from the shoreline. In a few moments a second squall line appears about 6 nm inland; it's 10 nm in length and is thick and dense. I am able to get three different WX channels, and they are all squawking about torrential downpours, flooding, damaging winds, hail, tornadoes, and the like. With 5 nm to go the cell is 2 miles inland; it's going to be close. I can see at least 20 boats around us heading for the shelter of St. Lucie Inlet. We have never been through it, but I have charts and Steve Dodge's Guide to Florida's East Coast Inlets, so I have a good idea of how to navigate, plus I can follow the rest of the fleet.

At 1 nm we get the downdraft, maybe 40 knots, out of the west, right in our face. There is a very dark wall of water just inside the inlet; I slow down a little to allow Bunny to close up our curtains and get towels and foul weather gear. As we pass between the rock weirs the rain starts; the narrow channel funnels the fleet just as visibility drops. We all pull back and fall into a rough line; it's not rough seas that are the concern now, it's traffic. We turn north at the ICW junction, and once we are able to distance ourselves from the other boats we throttle back and take a deep breath. It is raining heavily and it's difficult to see channel markers. The wind is blowing about 25 knots from the west, but we couldn't be happier: we have crossed successfully with at least a minute to spare!

After 15 minutes or so the rain relents a bit, visibility improves, and we're able to pick back up and run. Our next concern is fuel: we have enough to make about 60 nm, but Daytona is 130 nm to the north, so we need to take on at least 100 gallons. I'd like to do this at Ft. Pierce, but it will depend on the weather. As luck would have it, the rain stops a few miles south of Harbortown Marina. I call them on the radio, they are open for business and invite us in. This works very well because this marina is right on the ICW, and we can quickly get in and out. There are two boats ahead of us; while we wait I power up my cell phone for the first time in two weeks and call the South Florida Customs 800 number. I am greeted with a recorded message stating, "you are unable to access this number from your location." I had heard stories of people with cell phones based out of South Florida not being able to use this number. I also had copied many of the Abaco Board posts from Customs Advice Guy, one of which suggested using 800-973-2867. This works very well, and soon I am speaking to a US Customs agent who, strangely enough, can barely speak English. I have to spell about every third word, but once I give her Attitude's US Customs decal number the process flows quickly, and soon we have our clearance number.

While we fuel we pass a little time talking with two couples in the Phoenix 34 to our stern who have just crossed from Walker's Cay. They got knocked around on the Bank by a bad squall, then had to eat a three-foot chop all the way across the Straights, about 60 nm. Like us, they are just thrilled to be "inside." At 2 PM we leave Ft. Pierce and start north for Daytona. As Bunny throttles up, the starboard engine overrevs briefly, but it settles as we come up on plane. I say a brief prayer to the weather gods and gremlins: please just let us get home! For the next four hours we slog our way up the ICW through the rain. At times visibility deteriorates and we have to pull back; most of the time we are able to make 24-25 knots, but this requires that we both keep a sharp eye ahead for channel markers and boat traffic.

The rain stops at Titusville, the wind relents, and as we exit Haulover Canal and turn north the sun breaks through the clouds. The rest of our run home is uneventful; we tie up in our slip at Halifax Harbor in Daytona at 8:15, 11 hours 45 minutes and 209 nm miles from West End. We take a few moments to straighten up Attitude's cockpit; she'll get a complete cleanup tomorrow. We shower and order a pizza, and call the house sitter and family to let them know we are alive and well. By 10 we are exhausted; the long day, indeed, the long trip, have taken their toll on us. We collapse in our bunks, no alarm set. Tomorrow we'll clean Attitude, pack out, and return to our home, back into the "civilized world."

* * * * * * * *

It's now been four weeks since our return. I have written over 26,000 words in this serialized account of our trip; Bunny as transcribed her personal diary as well, and incorporated it into a photo album. I have edited 2 hours and 40 minutes of video down to an hour and 20 minutes. Attitude is on blocks, awaiting a new shift cable. The MasterCard statement has arrived: all told we spent about $4900 over the course of this cruise. Almost half went for fuel; prices per gallon ranged from $2.82 at Old Bahama Bay to $3.60 at Walker's and Spanish Cays. Included in that total is about $400 we spent on nonessentials such as souvenirs and Junior's plant. For our 14-day cruise this yields a daily cost of just over $300. We noted that dockage, fuel, and restaurant prices have all noticeably increased since Hurricane Floyd (September 1999); the increases seem justified in consideration of the physical improvements we found throughout Abaco.

Five weeks after the fact, my leg has still not completely healed. It swells during the day, and there are two persistent "knots" on my shin. It took about a week for us to catch up on our sleep and to get over feeling exhausted. Inevitably, in conversation between us and with our friends, we wonder: how many more years will we be able to do this? At what point will the physical demands of running a relatively small boat through squalls and seas and coping with the sun and heat for two weeks exceed our capabilities? Is it time to consider flying over and renting a 22-footer, relaxing in a real bed each night, slowing the pace?

And yet, we read our diaries and look at our photos and videos and realize that what we were able to see and do as we cruised still transcends our fatigue and soreness. We explored almost two-thirds of the inshore reef areas from Walker's Cay to Elbow; the blustery SW wind that we cursed for seven days created a lee on the offshore side of the cays and settled the adjacent water, enabling us to extensively cruise in areas where the conditions are often prohibitive. A few places we had high hopes for, such as Moraine, were disappointments. Conversely, there were wonderful surprises, such as the ocean beaches of Powell and Spanish Cays. Two days at Walker's wasn't enough, especially in bad weather, I'm ready to go back. I wish we had taken more time to explore Spanish Cay, its flora was astonishing. We were chased away from the Hog Cays by a squall; I'd like to have another chance to cruise that area. We bypassed Carter's Cay and its Bank; we want to have a look there. And we never have enough time in The Hub; I think I could retire at Seaspray, at least for a while.

I love cruising with Bunny. Friends ask us if we get on each other's nerves; it never happens. We are a lot alike: we're both "morning people," we're both a little "hyper," and we both like to crash at 10. We've learned to live off the land; we catch, prepare, and it eat what we find. We love the sun, love to swim, love the adventure, and we love doing all of it together. The hardest part of coming home and resuming "normal life" is not being together all day.

It's difficult for us to relate the cruising experience to our non-boating friends. First, there is the problem of "geographical vagueness." When we speak of the "Islands," they seem to conjure up a nebulous area somewhere to the south, accessible only by cruise ship, consisting of The Bahamas, Nassau, Jamaica, Cozumel, Key West, the Virgin Islands, and Hawaii. "Abaco" is a new one for them; they ask, "Where is that?"

We reply, "Northern Bahamas, about 200-250 nm SE of Daytona."

Blank look, "What's it near?"

"Well, it's sorta out there by itself." More puzzlement. Finally we throw them a lifeline, "Actually, it's about 100 miles north of Nassau."

Instant smiles, "Oh, I know where THAT is." No, they don't.

There are other difficult questions, "Where do you park the trailer, do they speak English down there, can you drink the water, is Castro still in charge?" My wife, the hairdresser, struggles like this with her clients. An elderly woman named Emmie asks if we are afraid sharks will puncture the hull and sink us.

Our boating friends have a thousand questions. After the dust has settled we invite them over for grouper and conch; they pour over our photos, and we all watch the video together. There are numerous "I remembers" and stories of previous trips and adventures; we all laugh.

At night, when it's quiet and we're alone, we ask each other, "How do you feel about the trip?" Bunny hasn't gotten over the terrible squall we dealt with on Day 2. Six days later, on Day 8, I came out of the shower room at Seaspray to find her sobbing on the telephone, relating the tale to a girlfriend in Florida. She's strong and determined when she has to be; sometimes I forget that beneath the bravado there's a sensitive lady. She thinks about next year, and she tells me with a chuckle that she'll probably forget about storm "in another few months."

When I dream I see island colors, like the ones at Pelican Cove or the shoreline at Powell or Manjack. The beaches are clear, sandy beige with a touch of pink; this gives way to light green, then darkens as sand yields to grass. The sky is that gorgeous electric blue; the cays are hard browns and soft greens. Beneath the water's surface I see neon tropical fish, conch, starfish, whelks, corals; it's so quiet down there. Above I see docks and clapboard homes, mottled concrete walkways, tourists and locals. There's the laughter of our dockmates and the whisper of the evening breeze. I can taste conch and grouper, as well as rum with just a splash of errant seawater. And Attitude waits at her slip, ready to take us away...

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco 2001 Part 13: Fin
John C <johncapp@mindspring.com> -- on Wednesday 8/22/01 @ 6:33 p.m. EST

Nice finish to a tough trip! I feel your pain and pleasure reading it. The question of running small boats to the islands continues to shadow me as well now that we have a 2 year old! The idea of a simple A-frame with A/C is sounding good.....

It was all GREAT! Thanks!
Gary M <Uboats737@aol.com> -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 8:24 a.m. EST

Thankyou for taking the time to post your trip....
Mark Winninger <winninger@kca.net> -- on Wednesday 8/22/01 @ 9:25 p.m. EST

Your words bring tears!!
skipzee <skipzee@netscape.net> -- on Wednesday 8/22/01 @ 9:54 p.m. EST

and happiness to all of us who have experienced Abaco. I for one would like to congratulate you on your story, it is so very well written, I wish I could do nearly as well. It was also a pleasure to bump into you and hear some of the real story before you printed it. Things are real and live out there in Abaco, although our month in Guana was eventful, I don't think it can compare to Ralph and Bunny's adventure. Maybe the Travel Channel would be interested. If you ever print this all up, I would be interested in a copy.

Thanks Again,
Skipzee

Re: Your words bring tears!!
AbacoPeach <AbacoPeach@aol.com> -- on Wednesday 8/22/01 @ 10:56 p.m. EST

I had tears in my eyes and actually rolling down my cheeks! Praying for Thanksgiving!

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco 2001 Part 13: Fin
Hat Last <juneannfox@aol.com> -- on Wednesday 8/22/01 @ 11:00 p.m. EST

It has been 4 years since my last Abaco cruise and I knew I missed this beautiful place, but I just did not know how much until I read your words. I hope to run into you and Bunny next summer. Thank you!

Thanks to everyone for your comments and support
Dr.Ralph <rbundy@cfl.rr.com> -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 7:48 a.m. EST

Amazing
Jan/Kev <janine_knight@sportsauthority.com> -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 8:07 a.m. EST

Your writing is amazing. If you havent already thought about it from what everyone on this board has said, you really should consider writing for a living.

I agree about the tears to my eyes reading the last paragraph about the colors.
And about trying to explain where and what Abaco is all about. I hate telling people we are going to the Bahamas. They just dont get it.

Thanks again. Hoping to borrow Gary's copy of the video. Cant wait.

FANTASTIC story, Thanks Doc you make memories!
ncdd <denny-telacom@ioa.com> -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 9:21 a.m. EST

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco 2001 Part 13: Fin
Sully <Jsully2@prodigy.net> -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 9:24 a.m. EST

Just wonderful! I am so glad you put together a cosolidated version of your whole trip report. I have printed off several copies for those friends of ours who still don't quite "get" the Family Islands in general and Abaco in particular. Now when they ask all those questions, and try in their mind to relate (with Nassau as their only frame of reference), I am going to hand them a copy of your report. The whole time I was reading your various installments, laughing and crying at times, I keep thinking of a book I recently finished. It's titled "This Sweet Place", and was written by a women on Exuma. You could do as well or better. You really should consider it. Looking forward to meeting you guys in person some day.

Sully

Re: Thaks for the great reports you gave ...
Noontide -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 9:30 a.m. EST

us details on many more corners to explore on our next visit.

Re: Thaks for the great reports you gave ...
Debbie <snyder@asde.net> -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 11:15 a.m. EST

Dr. Ralph & Bunny: You are lucky to have each other. We should all be so lucky as to have a relationship like you guys. We went to Abacos for the first time in June of this year. I learned a lot from you and other members of the board and I'm glad to be part of the "club". Now that I have experienced the islands my goal is to meet some board members in person because I plan on making Abacos a habit. We've been back 8 weeks, the kids are back in school, football practice has started and we're back in the routine again and all I can think of is when I can get back to Abacos. We don't have a boat or know how to run one but after reading your reports I think we need to get one and learn. Thanks again for the wonderful reading. Deb

Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Polly -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 3:33 p.m. EST

You and Bunny are my idols. . . I want to be just like you when I grow up.

Re: Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Dr.Ralph <rbundy@cfl.rr.com> -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 6:18 p.m. EST

Polly, don't grow up, you'll ruin everything!

Re: Your final summary page was wonderful! Thanks.
Jeannie -- on Thursday 8/23/01 @ 4:43 p.m. EST