Return to Georgetown … Tuesday 8th May 2018

Return to Georgetown   …   Tuesday 8^th May 2018

It’s 2 o’clock in the morning and I hear Gloria getting up and closing hatches and ports. I guess it’s raining but I really don't want to wake up. How come she isn’t coming back to bed? I suppose it’s bouncing a bit, she must have decided to go and sleep in the main cabin. Stop flashing that bloody light in my face! Oh, it’s lightening … crash, and thundering. I get up. Gloria is curled on the starboard side settee as far away as she can get in the main cabin from the 62 foot lightening conductor. I check our position on the handheld GPS we set up as an anchor alarm and notice that our position has moved a lot. It could be we are dragging or it could be that the winds have changed direction and we have swung round. I suspect the latter and set a new waypoint and proximity alarm and that stays steady, so at least we aren’t dragging. But the change of wind direction caused by the storm means we little protection from swells that are building rapidly. I’m thankful that we don’t have to worry about the dinghy as it’s still tied up on the foredeck, but then I remember that we never pulled up the swim ladder last night so I head up on deck into the torrential rain and secure it. Back inside, soaking wet, the boat is now pitching up and down in a violent hobby-horse pattern. Something crashes to the floor and then rolls around banging. It’s Gloria’s water bottle. I make sure the water jug and coffee flask are secure and take a Stugeron tablet to prevent seasickness – I can’t afford to be ill if we need to make an emergency departure from this anchorage. I voice a silent vote of thanks that we chose to anchor in a deeper area (20 foot depths) and not in the shallow cove to the north. It offers no better protection and we’d have been pounding our keel off the seabed. Looking outside I notice that our steering wheel is spinning rapidly from side to side despite having tightened the wheel brake and once again I go out into the rain to tie it down. For the next hour or so I sit at the nav station desk monitoring our position, the wind strength (gusting to 30 knots) and listening to the boat creaking and groaning. The Stugeron has it’s effect and by about 4 am I am falling asleep on the seat, so I retire to the port settee, keeping my feet well away from the mast. However, before settling down I retrieve my phone from the v-berth and switch off the alarm that was set for 6 am. I’ll be damned if I’m getting up to listen to the weather forecast!

Sadly, we are awake by 6.30 am and listen in Chris Parker. “Heavy squalls and thunderstorms in the Long Island, Conception, Rum Cay area came through during the night” … you’re not kidding! … “and they’re not done yet”. The system that we experienced last night is now slightly to our north-east, however, further bad weather is predicted for the next 48 hours. It’s now dead flat calm in the anchorage with absolutely no wind, but black clouds all around. We discuss our options and decide there is no advantage in staying where we are, so after breakfast we pull the anchor and motor south west to Georgetown in the Exumas. It’s only about a 20-mile passage but almost as soon as we leave it starts raining and pours for literally hours. Ironically the seas are like glass and we can see the clouds of diesel fumes as they emerge to hang around the boat. Who said cruising was all cocktails at sunset?). We try dragging a fishing line, but the fish don’t bite when the air pressure is low, even for the rich guys with fancy boats and gear! Around 1 o’clock the rain has eased and we start the complex series of turns that will lead us through the reefs into the southern entrance to Georgetown harbor. Thunder booms all around us, but the wind and rain hold off for now. By 2 pm we are anchored about a half-mile from Georgetown itself, in almost exactly the same spot we anchored in 2013 to pick up Rod and Sue.

We’re happy to be back in Georgetown, but generally tired and cranky. We get the dinghy re-inflated and much to my irritation, cover the recently washed foredeck with particles of black anti-fouling paint. The dinghy ride to town is as bumpy as we remember it and the town itself looks no better for the giant puddles of rainwater. I have a long and growing list of broken gear which today frustrates me more than usual – my favorite camera lens (seized zoom), laptop (intermittent violet colored display), iPhone (no data connectivity) – but at the Bahamas Telephone Company store a kind and patient lady actual manages to get my iPhone working properly. We aren’t able to get any cash because the bank machines aren’t working, but we are able to buy a few provisions. We return to Cotinga and cook up baked beans from scratch in our pressure cooker and ham steak. It’s a fine meal, suitable for the damp, dreary conditions and it lifts our spirits. It’s an early night and we both sleep well and feel rejuvenated this morning. Today is a new day and not raining …!

Mike

Calabash Bay near Cape Santa Maria, Long Island - gorgeous white sand beaches and turquoise water ... not so beautiful in the rain !

The route to Georgetown - threatening skies but calm seas. We are totally unable to figure out which squalls will bring wind and rain (and lightening) and which will bring just rain

It's 3 hours into the passage and it's stopped raining, the seas are like glass, but we are both very damp in full foul weather gear. Notice the winds were so light we didn't even bother taking off the sail cover.