Ari9el #44 headed south

We are in the Bahamas... finally.
Madeline arrived over a week ago. We were looking at a good weather window a couple of days ago, when our two kayaks-- our only way to get to shore— were stolen. Even worse, Madeline's was brand new; she's only paddled it once. This was a serious setback, not just financially but also in terms of time.
We decided our best bet was to buy an inflatable dinghy and a small electric motor and battery. We found an inexpensive model on sale at a West Marine south of Miami. Had to take a bus, then a train, then another bus. Then carry back the giant box on a tiny hand cart, plus the battery hidden in a plain brown bag in case Miami public transport considered it dangerous.(Back in Mattituck I disguised my propane tank as a bag of laundry on the local bus, so I'm no stranger to illicit transport of hazardous materials.)
From the bus stop in Key Biscayne it's a mile walk to the harbor and by then we were exhausted. A young couple in a van kindly gave us a ride from the park gate.
The motor-- a small electric trolling motor-- came via UPS and one of the park rangers delivered it to the dock.
We spent a day testing our new ride, listening to the weather forecast and studying passageweather.com. It looked like there would be another, short, weather window, but it would entail an overnight passage. Crossing at night has some advantages-- you leave and arrive in daylight, there's usually less wind, the waves are smaller, and there's no hurry. There was a blustery wind leaving Cape Florida but we could fetch our course. The wind slowly eased and we soon had to motorsail. We had to steer a little into the current which cut our speed over the ground to three knots. With a small, slower boat like ours, leaving from further south-- for example, Key Largo-- would have been better.
We could still see the glow of the lights of Miami when we saw the lights of Bimini, neither of which would have been visible in the daylight; we found this reassuring. There was some shipping but less than in the Straits of Juan de Fuca.
Neither of us had slept much on the crossing and the dock we tied up at in north Bimini was hot, noisy and had lots of wake from passing boats. To our consternation, we then discovered there was going to be a band playing at right next door. We had forgotten it was Saturday. Both of us like to dance and it was a reggae band, but we were so beat that we slept right thru it.
We had planned to cross the banks today but the wind was on the nose and blowing strong. The marina we are in tonight on south Bimini is a total contrast-- an artificial harbor surrounded by condominiums-- a gated resort for well-to-do white people.
There's another, stronger cold front coming in a couple of days, so tomorrow we have to hustle across to the Berry Islands. It's 80 miles so we will anchor overnight somewhere on the banks, in ten feet of clear turquoise water out of sight of any land.

Congratulations!

You will never regret not turning back.

Is anyone keeping a running total on the number of A/Cs that have made the journey to the Bahamas? I think I'llpost a list on the wall in the boat shop for inspiration/motivation. ;)

Mike and Madi's Big Banks Bash


If we'd had the energy it might have been smart to keep going when we reached Bimini but we hadn't slept much crossing the Florida Straits and needed to rest. And even though we'd slept through the reggae music at the dock there was still Alice Town to explore. No homecoming parades. And the choir in the Anglican church was a bit old and dry so we ducked out before the sermon and went for a succulent, secular conch and fries at Bob's.
In the afternoon we tried to sail down to Gun & Cat Cays to have a better angle on the forecast southeast winds, but with wind and tide against us, we soon realized we weren't going to make it. Still, it was a lovely sail, in beautiful blue green water and a stiff but warm breeze.
Passageweather.com, which is our main source for weather, predicted an easing of the 15 to 20 knot winds by the next afternoon. This meant that if we left late morning we could get part way across the banks before dark, anchor for the night and continue the next day at a leisurely pace, arriving at Bullocks harbor well before the front.
The main question was, would we have wind-- and waves-- on the nose once we rounded North Rock and headed east for seventy miles. With another, stronger cold front coming in a couple of days we knew we had to go for it even if we did get “beat up.”
As it turned out we got a good slant and it was another glorious, if wet ride. The Ariel loves a good thrash to weather and even reefed down we were doing 5 knots without burying the rail, with our trusty bungee at the helm. As forecast, the wind eased then died altogether and we had to resort to the motor and tiller pilot.
When the sun went down we dropped the hook. It felt strange: there was no land in sight in any direction but everyone we had talked to said “no problem, just anchor anywhere out of the traffic lane.” Within an hour we were underway again. Stopped, the motion was sickening; by the time I had supper made we were both feeling too queasy to eat.
No moon this time, no long-lasting city glow, just pitch black night with a few stars thru the clouds. Not a boat or a buoy or sight of land anywhere, steering by GPS. Sensory deprivation made the stars dance and nonexistent dolphins chatter. Madeline sang to drown out the dolphins and stayed tethered to the cockpit as spray washed over the cabin top and along the side decks.
Fortunately it was dark because when it got light and we could see how big the waves were we felt very glad to be back in sight of land. We had covered 50 miles in ten hours!
So here we are in Bullocks Harbor in the Berry islands. We are at a marina along with several other cruisers sitting out a stalled cold front or whatever this weird weather is. We have found that we can handle 15-20 but 25-30 is no-go for us.
The weekly mail boat came in the day after we arrived, so we've got fresh veggies, some interesting canned goods and Maikel's favorite British digestive biscuits. A thin slice of banana bread at the local bar costs $7, so we were inspired to break out the solar oven to try making our own treats. If it works we'll move on to homemade yeasted bread-- a plus, since the best available in the small groceries is “roman meal” balloon bread.

Beautiful!
Great job...
I find that the little boats can handle the big wind (25-30) nicely - they do not care about getting wet. I'd rather not get a buchetful of water in the face every few seconds though!
I hope the sailing only gets better!