Month: February 2025

The last few days onboard were a relaxing taster of all favored SALVio things, so here’s a bit of a photo dump.

While waiting out a short blow, we spent one rainy blustery morning watching movies, playing Banagrams and doing an endless amount of sudoku. We generally took advantage of being dockside to do laundry, and enjoyed some land-based touring in our golf cart. It cleared, of course, and the girls swam and sand dollar-combed at Gillam Bay, we had our favorite conch fritters (In all of the Bahamas! I’ve been on a testing mission for this entire decade.), and we generally spent the time reaching places easier accessed by land than by sea while we had the chance.

Fleeing the marina, we were able to spend our last day exploring the mangroves on Manjack before spending the night anchored off of the New Plymouth settlement. It was an all-time high for turtle numbers in the mangroves- they were EVERYWHERE. Dozens in sight at a time, zipping this way and that under and alongside our dinghy as we poled our way through. (We may have undershot the tide just a weeeeee bit, and spent much of our journey getting creative about getting over muck and sand bars.)

We had a really beautiful final day of sailing, and then a breathtaking last morning sunrise to cap it off. We helped a bit with decommissioning to not dump Andy with too much to do for his last days, and then we were off. Sad face.

A day later and boom, we three Allen ladies are back in the northeast, staring at muddy snow piles and listening to the snow melt trickling off of the roof. Super sad faces. But! Let the future trip planning and scheming begin again, in whatever shape it may take.

It’s a bit grey this morning after a really beautiful day yesterday. Our pale skin welcomes the break from the sun, but as I’m always cold, I’ll be a wimp and say that it’s a wee bit chilly. After a lovely breakfast with our friends overlooking the harbor yesterday morning, we sailed up to Fisher’s Bay on Great Guana Cay, where we met our friends for a Sunday Funday day ashore. The Sunday scene at the infamous Nippers is always a treat for people-watching, and yesterday was no exception. One swift pass-through of the cranked music, the leopard print suits, and the free-flowing Nippers’ punch had us thinking that the energy level was somewhere beyond our group’s vibe, however, so we headed down to the beach and had a relaxing swim instead. That strengthened our resolve for coping with the volume of the music (how old ARE we?!), so we tried again and tucked into one of Nippers’ pools for a bit to check the scene once more. For my Dirtbagger’s Guide to Bahamian Pools Used in Lieu of Showering, I’m sad to report that theirs was saltwater. The hunt for the elusive freshwater pool commenced.

Runabouts and boats with more horses than good looks flock to Guana in great numbers every Sunday, coming from Baker’s Bay (same island, but farther north), Hope Town and Treasure Cay. Fisher’s Bay and its landing spot, a beach bar called Grabbers, host the incomers with their bank-side docks. Over the years Grabbers itself has grown into a destination, likely to keep everyone from just using them only as a dockage space in order to get to Nippers on the ocean side. Music, games, a pool (freshwater! freezing!), a beach, decent food… the very stuff that Sunday Funday is made of. 

While there never feels to be enough time with dear friends, we had to take advantage of today’s mild weather for, you guessed it… crossing the Whale. This passage is starting to feel like the bane of the Abaco cruiser’s existence, and yet, if we want to ever leave Green Turtle, it’s a necessary challenge to conquer. I’m writing as we motor sail through it, so this time it’s an easy trip, thankfully.

We have a few more days of this cruise of ours, and somehow I’m not as melancholy about it as I thought I’d be. This is potentially our last full family cruise aboard Chickadee (Lily’s new locale for the next years in California won’t make it super easy for her to join in), but having come down twice already this year has made me realize that we’re quite sold on this way of travel and entertainment. (Of course we are…my logical brain was a few steps behind my emotional one.) Whether it’s here on Chickadee or in the South Pacific on… ‘new Chickadee’?, we’ll find ways to sail with our girls, their friends, our friends, new friends.. whether we have gaps or shift changes or college-funding taking precedence, we’re in it for the long haul no matter what, which is remarkably comforting. No finality to this trip, just the continued hunt for fun adventure and of course, freshwater pools.

Chickadee has flown the nest. After a hop ashore to the little farmer’s market in Hope Town, we had a short sail north to Man-O-War Cay yesterday. About a half a mile from the harbor entrance we had a nice puff of breeze that gave the shackle on the head of the jib a run for its money, and in the end, the wind won. As we noted on the remaining piece that came down, it’s amazing that it held out as long as it did, thin as it was…

Also en route I met our fifth crew member while hunting for whatever sound on deck has been plaguing me below during any movement recently. It sounds like a block or something somewhat heavy dragging and rolling, and alas, I still don’t know what it is, but when my eyes focused to look in the shallow area between the cockpit hatch slider and its housing, a pair of eyes were looking back at me. A frog. Looking pretty indifferent to my existence, remarkably. 

We’ve named her Diane. Four hours into knowing her and we already had major family debates about how hungry she is and whether or not she should be given some lettuce. (Apparently my family doesn’t know what frogs eat, despite me telling me them about their carnivorous ways.) She likely came aboard in the boat yard in Green Turtle, so yes, probably hungry, but do I want to think about a squishy frog living aboard and ALSO its poop? Not really. Also don’t you think Diane would find Man-O-War to a nice place to live, and don’t you think she should go check it out RIGHT NOW? I do too. But instead she’s been staring a piece of lettuce all night long, wondering what her roommates are up to and where are all of the good bugs are.

Despite the shackle blow-out and the stowaway, we had a nice catch-up with our friends after we arrived, and then headed to the beach so that the girls could get some body-surfing and skimboarding while the surf was still frisky from the easterlies. Following that, thankfully they came back to swim in the harbor to offload the pounds of sand they collected during their adventures before coming back aboard.

A dinghy ride to town for a few groceries, some ice cream, and a look around (not much doing in MOW, usually, but it felt like even less this time around, somehow) before heading back to the boat to fix the jib. We sent Lily aloft to grab the halyard (thankfully the other piece of the shackle was still attached to keep it from slipping through the roller and down the mast), and then remarkably found just the spare we needed on a nearby boat that had stores for the taking (a Dorian ‘survivor’ that is essentially using the rest of its life for spares for others). Sail bent back on, lickety split.

Lily cracked her second coconut before dinner with friends (you know people know you well when they hear you’re coming and they hunt for a perfect coconut for your coconut-loving daughter to get into), and bam, a full day of Abaco-ing complete. 

A bit overcast this morning, which sets the mood of the harbor fairly well. Yesterday, shortly after hearing him chime in helpfully on the morning’s Net (our daily VHF Cruiser’s Net/local info session), we learned that the unofficial mayor/commodore/harbor master of Hope Town died. He was found in his dinghy with the engine running, and I’m assuming heart attack but do not know for sure. Will was a staple in Hope Town, living aboard his sailboat Antares here in the harbor, and until we laid eyes or ears on him upon arrival, we never really felt like we were ‘here’ yet. (Last year they skipped their first winter in the Abacos in decades to stay in Maryland, and it did NOT feel right, much akin to this morning.) 

Will and his wife Muffin (and their ‘little dog Sophie’, as he signed on with every day) were/are (how do I convey this now, again?) characters. Will and Muffin each have/had their own dinghy, which I always thought was brilliant. No need for coordination throughout the day, simply one tied to port and one to starboard and do what you need to do when you need to do it. He preferred the standing-up putt-putt, so always had a tiller extension and a fixed post of some sort for his non-steering hand. He ran the Net most mornings, with humor and patience, and he loved entertaining any boater kid who had a good joke for the listeners (although he’d Dad-groan if they deserved it). He would come boat to boat on trash days to help out newcomers or those who didn’t have their you-know-what together in time to get to the ‘Sunshine Freight Dock’ before the truck left, he could recommend any person or business for any fix or boater’s need, he apparently was a great dinghy racer, and he was always ALWAYS wearing a white tee shirt and sporting his amazing mustache. We Chickadeeans affectionately referred to him as The Lorax, since he had a passing resemblance with his ‘stache, but also because he had a great little whistle when he spoke, and he was certainly a man of justice and oversight in his unofficial role of taking care of his beloved Hope Town Harbor. 

Our hearts are with Muffin and Sophie, and this harbor is certainly in mourning for the loss. Fair winds and following seas, Will. 

We’ve just realized that this is our tenth year aboard. Time for a tin can to celebrate! (Or an aluminum boat?)

So far our celebrations have mostly only involved the comfy routines. Games, snacks, reading, painting (for V), and an afternoon spent swimming and lounging with friends. Without a grand plan for our sail this year, we’ve just been weaving in and out of general ideas of moving to this island or that without much conviction. Friends are here and there, and moving around on their own schedules, so the lining up of the various meet-ups while also taking into consideration the forecast and its subsequent need for protected anchorages, etc. is making the task feel like something that requires more than two brain cells. And unfortunately for planning purposes, this time we left ours in Maine. 

Lily did go swim a practice set in the pool, and I pretended to be her coach while walking back and forth and just generally spacing-out. I’m not sure I was inspiring. It was cold and shallow and had more than one dead spider (one would have been quite enough for me, thanks) piled up on the bottom in one corner, but she swam and checked that box. 

Yesterday included a bike ride to the south end of the island to dip and lounge at Tahiti Beach before lunching on our way back to the harbor. After tucking in on the boat, we gamed (Lily and I taught another poor soul our favorite Banagrams, since Andy and Violet generally refuse to play with us), grilled pizzas and even managed to stay awake past cruisers’ midnight (ahem, 9pm). A full day for sure.

Today will include some amount of actual work for all of us, and then possibly some destination/route planning, but, at our current rate… probably not?

(A day off here in reporting…)

Back on board with the girls, after a day of travel from the bitterly cold and very windy northeast to the calm warmth of our Bahamian nest. A delayed flight prompted running in the airport in DC at a speed and distance I hadn’t attempted since high school, this time with a backpack and a full bladder for extra resistance. I felt like we were in a movie, complete with the ‘making it to the gate JUST in time’, and I for sure at one point looked back and asked if we still had Kevin with us.  

That’s all behind me now as I sit in Hope Town harbor this morning and watch the turtles pop their heads up all around me while the sweet sound of the water lapping at the dinghy provides the soundtrack. (Ironically this ‘sweet lapping’ will no doubt prompt the girls to remind Andy to raise the dinghy in its davits tonight, as they hear it in stereo in their aft cabin. Whoops.)

We have yet to formulate an action plan for our short trip this year, but were greeted by two sets of friends yesterday afternoon, so there is plenty to do, and plenty of wonderful people to see if we stay here in Hope Town for a day or two. The 25 meter pool here, which was destroyed by Dorian five years ago, is now up and running, albeit a bit shallow (it’s been filling with a garden hose, so I imagine it’ll be full by late March). I know that Lily is anxious to keep her practices in before her next meet, which regrettably in my travel planning, is the day we get home. Whoops!

Yesterday was a big one for Lily, as she officially committed to her top choice school, and withdrew applications from the rest. Occidental College gets a good one, that’s for sure. She is excitedly already pouring over packing lists and timelines, with joy and likely a huge sense of relief that this arduous process/part time job of college applications is finally over. 

My emotions are all over the place- excitement predominantly, because I know it’s such a good fit for her, and I have no doubt that she’ll have such incredible opportunities that she’ll be gung-ho to take advantage of. But wow, this next step in general for me, thinking of the fact that we’re on an official countdown of the last months she lives with us full-time is a bit overwhelming and time-flashing in a way that makes me truly wonder if it’s really here already. I am positive that I’ll be an actual wreck when the time comes closer to packing up and dropping her off, so I’m going to do my best in these next six months to keep my blubbering to a minimum so as to maximize the days left. I’ll just join Andy in the financialsobbing taking place as we wrangle how to help her pay for it without leaving school with a loan payment that’ll sink her. So at least THAT’S distracting!