Little Farmers Cay

Carol and I, well, really me mostly, decided to try to sail out of the anchorage at Black Point settlement as we had seen others do the day before. Predictably, once again, chaos ensued and we added yet another chapter to the seemingly endless and unabridged version of Amazing but True Anchoring Follies. It was pretty windy and the boat did handle differently with the sail up. Regardless, Carol let the anchor chain get behind the bow and then signaled a turn to the left; the anchor was to the right. The chain caught on the fin keel and we were riding beam to the wind, not bow forward. I was pretty sure what the problem was, hauled in the sail, threw on my dive mask and jumped into the water. Problem confirmed. Fortunately, Phil, on Amazing Grace, saw what had happened and brought his dinghy over. With his dinghy he pushed the bow around until the chain freed itself and all was again OK. We could have used the motor to turn the boat to the same result, but this was easier. It's good that neither one of us has a "boating ego."

A day that started with a debacle had a mid-morning delight. When we cleared he anchorage we again put up the sails for a straight 9 nm run to Little Farmers Cay. The apparent wind was 20~25knots and we started with way too much sail and, eventually, brought in the foresail to the 2d reef point. The boat was still a load to handle making at least 6 knots and, sometimes more than 7 knots, consistently heeling about 20 degrees, too much for efficient sailing but fun none the less. This was really the first good sailing with the wind being right to allow us to go directly to a way point.

It took a lot of physical exertion to handle the boat in that much wind. At many points I was using both hands and both feet on the helm. Our boat weighs about 14,000-lb. empty and about 17,000-lb. fully loaded, which it is now. 15~17 knots of wind is probably optimal for sailing; over that the wind wants to overpower the boat and push it around. Scott, from the Ft. Pierce blog entry, whose boat weighs 38,000-lb., said that he needed 25 knots of wind to make the thing get going and 35 knots was good sailing. Maybe an overstatement but it does frame the issue.

The anchoring was easy ... good, deep sand that swallowed the anchor. When I swam out to the anchor I saw a huge starfish each arm being more than 6-in. from tip to the center of the body, probably weighing to 2~3 pounds; swimming back I saw another almost as large. In other places I had seen empty clam-like bivalve shells on the bottom. A starfish explains that. This picture looks like what I saw, except for being half, or less, the size.

There is a restricted area in the anchorage, an approach/departure area for airplanes to use when landing or taking off. We are not in the restricted area, just, but are no more than 100 yards from it. Carol watched a plane land into the wind and did not feel that there was any issue. I wrote a email to the chart plotter company mentioning that this area did not show up on their screen which seems an oversight. I expected more boats here for the festival; but, maybe it's early days yet or they may all be anchored or moored on the other side of the island. (follow on: when I saw a plane fly overhead, I decided that we were too close so we moved a bit and reanchored; the airport has been busy and even farther south, where we are now, seems dicey)

Tuesday night David and Dana had folks over to their boat, Toucantoo, for BYOB happy hour. Dana actually cooked corn chips from flour and made some salsa ... it was really good. We got to meet some new folks on other boats. Wednesday morning Debbie had a champagne breakfast for the girls, the "girls" in this case being mostly over 60 except for Dana who could probably be a grand daughter to any of the "girls."

On Wednesday afternoon we went we went ashore, literally. We took the dinghy to the beach and then dragged it onto the sand and made the anchor fast into some bushes. More informal evolution: Carol's job when we land is to be first out of the dinghy and into the water while I secure the engine. When we leave I push us off, start the engine and scramble into the boat. It works.

This island is different. All of these islands are austere in their beauty; all the islands, including New Providence Island, Nassau, have been very clean. This island is very trashy with all sorts of detritus along the roads. Not nice. Walked about, had a beer at Ali's Bar; met Ali, a presence here about. In Nassau we had met a couple, Fred and Karen, and Carol and Karen hit it off well, Carol hoping that we would cross paths with them again, which we did here at Little Farmers Cay. They have also fallen into a group of boats with whom they are "travelling." We got back to the boat just before dark.

We have been in warm waters for six weeks or so and the water line in particular and the bottom in general have gotten a little bit green and furry so I decided to clean things up. On go the wet suit, fins, mask and snorkel and over the side I go plastic putty knife and scouring pad in hand. The concept is simple; the work is not. Both tools were useful, the putty knife for really thick stuff and the pad for everything else. The problem not yet solved is how to maintain contact with the boat .... every stroke in the water pushes me away from the boat, Newton's Law about opposite reactions, or something. Anyway, most of the starboard side got done in one session and the whole thing will take several days. The good news was that there are no barnacles yet on the bottom.

This morning I spotted a strange sea creature, rarely seen in this parts: Aquatica Carola Rubia. Her bathing suit, actually more like a track suit, would make those of the early 1900's seem immodest but, given her history with the sun a fair enough solution. This was the first time that she has gone into the water this trip and only the second time ever that I can remember her having done so.

David swam over and chatted a bit when I was through for the day with the hull cleaning. After a few minutes back on his boat he started this special, Australian regime of Sailboat Calisthenics.

The anchorage got considerably more crowded on Thursday with at least 15 boats arriving after lunch, this picture having been shot on Wednesday evening; by Wednesday evening the place was getting very busy. I did not try to count the number of boats around the island, never having had a good look at the eastern side. There probably were not 100 boats there but the count would not have been too far off that milestone.

Since we are in a crowded anchorage and know many of the folks we have been keeping the VHF radio on. Really, really irritating! There is a tremendous amount of hailing going on between boats, probably like the old party lines.

On Friday morning I watched this ship approach for at least 30 minutes and was never able to figure out what the tall while things were in the bow, an inappropriate place for most possibilities such as antennas. When the boat was about 50 yards away it all became clear: C Class racing boats. Since this boat passed us at 0830 the chances of a 0900 start time for the first race looked slim.

We waited a while for some news over the VHF which called for a 1200 start time, So, Carol and I took the dinghy around the point to watch the race. This is the community center. There was music and food; Carol and I split some sort of grilled fish, maybe snapper, for lunch while we waited and waited for things to get underway.

These boats arrived sometime on Thursday or very early Friday; they were not the ones on the freighter. I guess that C Class racing is the Bahamian version of NASCAR with boats assigned permanent numbers; a few have sponsors. These three boats were also the very last to the start line.

Guys were getting the boats ready to go to the starting line.

At he starting line all the boats get into a row and put out their anchors.

When the start signal is given up go the anchors and the sails in a mad scramble.

Each boat carries two PRI boards, each wider than the boat and each with a set of angle irons through which the board slides from side to side. If a boat had five guys, four would be hanging out past the edge of the boat, no restraints or safety lines, trying to counter the wind heeling the boat over. These guys are tough and really good sailors.

The race finally started at about 1:30 pm and took several hours so we headed back to the town center, fearing that we had missed the 1:00 pm wet t-shirt contest. Not to worry, they were still trying to round up contestants. Carol, having an appropriate level of modesty, demurred even when I suggested that there might be a 65 and older category. In the event, the floors and walkways stayed dry and no ladies got goosebumps or hypothermia, maybe a good thing since the average age of the ladies there was well north of 18. The only picture I was able to take that was politically incorrect and misogynist was this lady at the races. I know that Rhett will be disappointed in me but these folks are on sailboats not Harleys.

While there I did get to make a courtesy visit to the Farmers Cay Volunteer Fire Department.

The games continued with a schedule of Hermit Crab Races with betting but only for a dollar. Carol and I did not win having picked slow crabs.
The paddock and the race course.

Carol and I stayed until dusk, retiring to the boat. Debbie leaving the Ocean Cabin Bar & Grill.

The day was a very good one and both interesting and a lot of fun. Some outside money did come onto the island, but maybe not enough for a slow year. It was worth doing and doing again