Georgetown Passage – Day 2, 12-29-08

[skipgundlach]

Georgetown Passage – Day 2, 12-29-08, Part I

As we left you, we had thrown out the hook(s) in Allan’s Cay in a stiff breeze from the east. The current was strong enough to overcome the wind, keeping us on our primary anchor, unlike in Nassau where, other than a couple of nights where we turned on our anchors a couple of times, we’d stayed head into the wind. However, the night before our departure, the wind was light enough to where we swung to our secondary anchor instead of the primary. That’s when we picked it up, followed by the primary, on our way out, and all went well with that.
However, I’m getting ahead of myself

During our anchoring, Lydia’d said that she wasn’t happy with the power we had, and suspected that we had some remnants of the mooring line we’d run over in Nassau remaining in the drive train. The current was strong enough that while I really wanted to dive the prop, as well as to do some more cleaning around the third speed sensor, which hadn’t been moving (and thus not reading), I would need to wait until slack water. Before leaving Miami, when I dove the boat, to take a scraper to what I assumed was a great deal of growth on both the DynaPlate (a component of the ground plane for our HF radio) and the keel cooler for our refrigerator (there was a lot of growth!), I also cleaned around the speed and depth sensors.

However, I’d somehow overlooked the third one. The fact that the other two speed sensors began working after my cleaning the area around them confirmed my suspicion that the water flow was fouled by growth we’d accumulated, not only in Saint Simons (LOTS!) and Miami (presumed to be nearly as bad), and I wanted to see if I could revive that third one. So, I put diving the boat with my hookah rig on my 1-2-3 (the little daily boat chores, which, if done religiously, keep you ahead of the maintenance backup that sometimes puts you in the workyard because of their volume) list for the next day.

We went to bed early after a light supper, as has become our habit. We’re slowly getting into island time, which has us more attuned to the daily light schedule, rather than extensive time into the evening, and a late awakening.

Allan’s Cay is surrounded by many beach areas, with the chief attraction being the iguanas which are present on the three islands. Cruising guides say this occurs nowhere else in the world, a prehistoric holdover with no clue as to how these arrived. They’re very accustomed to visitors, and being herbivores, pose no threat to humans, but come running to see every dinghy that shows up. Whether curious or hungry, we don’t know, but before we got to go ashore, we saw proof of that as excursion boats and other yachts’ dinghies landed on the beach of the long island north and east of Allan’s Cay.

Our only excursion was to Allan’s Cay itself, with the anchorage there being very shallow, and thus occupied by only one catamaran, unlike the area where we anchored, which had perhaps a dozen boats. We arrived at close to high tide, with plenty of water under our dinghy, but by the time we left, it was high and dry on the beach :{))

True to the forecasts, we were greeted by, eventually, a dozen or more iguanas. These were very dark, unlike the light tan ones we’d seen in Sapphire Beach, Saint Thomas, USVI, and substantially larger in most cases. What we deemed the matriarch of the clan was easily 4 feet long from nose to tail, and I was able to get pretty close to (her?) it. Their coloration and skins were very interesting, as you could have sworn they had sleeves running down their legs, and could have been wearing sharkskin suits, based on the very fine texture and color on their bodies.
They were not the least bit combative or territorial as we’d seen the ones behave in USVI, so we never got to see the display of their wattles under their chin, which they puff up to great balloons when they’re trying to appear fierce. They did have the resemblance to the popular description of dinosaurs :{))

Wandering around the island showed that it must have snakes on it, as the tracks in the sand were distinctive, as well as leading to some holes in the ground. However, we didn’t see any snakes of any sort during our walk. The islands are limestone, which leads to some interesting erosion patterns, as well as, some trapped conch shells that apparently, with the chemical makeup of the shell and the limestone, created cement. Shells appeared sort of fossilized, and were one with the limestone.

Going back to the other side of the island again, I’d taken my snorkeling gear and decided to have a look as we were on the way out to return to the boat. I saw scattered conch on the harbor floor. From my prior experience in St. Croix, USVI, the only other place I’ve dived for conch, I knew that they left distinctive tracks – almost like a tire print – in the sand, and thus were fairly easy to find, even if they were covered in sand or vegetation.

I dove in perhaps 5 feet of water and collected small piles of conch for easy retrieval, but realized they were mostly for showing Lydia, as they were far too small to eat. In Nassau, on one of our walks, we’d visited the shops under the bridge. One of them, at the very end, didn’t even have a stall, but instead, on a makeshift table, was cleaning conch, taken from a huge pile, for sale to folks who walked up. Small ones were $2.50 and large ones were $4. We’d bought $5 worth, and watched him make it into a salad with the additional ingredients he sent us across the aisle to purchase. A skilled native can extract and prepare a conch in less than 5 minutes, but it’s widely held that it’s better to hire a native than to try to do it yourself. Heh…

Anyway, as I moved into deeper water, right under and around the catamaran, I began to see larger conch. Lydia followed me in the dinghy as I foraged, putting them in every time I got a handful that was too big to manage. Eventually, I collected a baker’s dozen of what I later learned were mature size – we tossed perhaps another dozen back as too small - but I was just judging by what I felt would provide an eating-quantity of meat. I probably was in the water an hour or so, and had gotten chilled, so we headed back to the boat.

When I arrived, before we got into seeing if we could extract, let alone “clean” our catch, I put my mask back on and had a look under the boat. Sure enough, there was a loop of line around the prop, which, being a MaxProp, a feathering and reversing prop, would have impeded the feathering/setting action, so I put that on the 1-2-3 list for the next day, as I was far too chilled to go under for any length of time at that point.

Ever the optimists, once I got back out of the water, we commenced to seeing if we could duplicate what we’d seen on the table under the bridge. Of course, an expert always makes it look easy, and I can report that it ain’t – at least the way we did it. We accumulate books at flea markets and used book stores with great abandon, and they usually don’t get read for a long time, which is how we presume we’d missed this before: A discovery of a book in our library which we’d only browsed before revealed some secrets which we’ll try later, and which should make it easier and faster than what we did, but it suffices to say that Lydia and I succeeded in extracting and skinning (and, based on what we saw in that book, over-trimming) those 13 conch in only about two hours, and went about tenderizing them.

The guy in the stall had used a standard meat-tenderizing hammer (square, with lots of pyramid-shaped points on the flat surface), putting the meat in a plastic bag like you’d use to put your fresh vegetables in at the supermarket before your checkout. Unlike what we’d read before, it wasn’t the least bit messy, the plastic bag containing all the juices which would otherwise splatter all over the galley if prepared below. However, before we got to that point, we had to deal with the slime…

Conch are coated in a thick layer of mucus or other substance which is very tenacious. Some books recommend, and some of our friends had done just that, going to the beach not only to remove the animal from the shell, a process which can get messy just in hitting the right point with a rock hammer, but also then to drag them through the sand to remove the slime and then follow that by rinsing the sand off them. Wimps….

Just as we’d seen him do, we used a bucket of salt water to rinse our meat in, as well as to remove the slime from our hands. After I got all the meat set for pounding, I dumped the bucket I’d tossed them all into (not before removing them and putting them on the cutting board!!) and refilled it after rinsing it a couple of times.

Oh, ya… I should say that the water in the Bahamas is amazing. No slime, no mold, and crystal clear, over 20 feet down – I presume that’s from the absence of sewage treatment plants and large agricultural runoff providing the nutrients algae need. Most cruisers will argue is how that runoff and municipal sewage is how it happens, not their emptying their own sewage into the sea –certainly, based on the relatively high cruiser population in these anchorages, it supports their contention)…

Tossing them all back in the again-freshened bucket and giving them another rinse, I took my very large wooden mallet (the one I’d played the anvil chorus with when reshaping my boom bail after repair in Brunswick) and gently whacked them to a thin consistency. After each was flattened, I put them back in the bucket of water for a final rinse, and fished them all out into a bowl when I was finished. I later learned in that same book that this method (using a flat wooden beater, not the pointed surfaces hammer) tenderized, rather than macerated, the meat (the locals call it bruise conch).

Taking them inside to cut up, we had some of the pieces right from the cutting board, entirely raw and unseasoned. Much to our surprise, they were not only delicious but also amazingly sweet and tender. Cut into small cubes, they went into a pasta dish, and, as we learned, as we ate, the cooking makes them tougher – closer to what I’ve always referred to, in my dislike of clams, as “little erasers” – but not too bad, due to our tenderizing, apparently. I’ve decided that I definitely like conch, at least raw or very gently cooked, and look forward to repeating the experience. We probably got nearly 3 pounds of meat from that exercise, ate like gluttons but yet had enough for a great beginning for a dinner the next day, and fell into bed – again at an early hour.

Well, I see that this has become long again, so we’ll leave you with dreams of bounty from the sea, one of our chief goals in our cruising (eat for free), and the thought that I’ll have to dive the boat again tomorrow before we leave.

As always, those on our log lists will receive real-time reports, but those seeing these in the forums will have to wait until we have good internet connectivity. There’s no internet service here, and we don’t know when the next will be, but you can see our progress on our SPOT page, SPOT Shared Page …

Stay tuned :{))

L8R

Skip and Crew

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
Follow us at TheFlyingPigLog : Morgan 461 Hull #2, Flying Pig
and/or Flying Pig Log | Google Groups

"And then again, when you sit at the helm of your little ship on a clear
night, and gaze at the countless stars overhead, and realize that you are
quite alone on a wide, wide sea, it is apt to occur to you that in the
general scheme of things you are merely an insignificant speck on the
surface of the ocean; and are not nearly so important or as self-sufficient
as you thought you were. Which is an exceedingly wholesome thought, and one
that may effect a permanent change in your deportment that will be greatly
appreciated by your friends."- James S. Pitkin

[skipgundlach]

Georgetown Passage – Day 2, Part II, 12-30-08

When we left you, night had fallen on Allan’s Cay’s anchorages. Several boats had left, and more had arrived – rather more than were there before, actually. We were joined in our section in the space between Allan’s Cay and the two long islands north of us by several sailboats and a couple of power boats. Still lots of room and a very comfortable place to stay.

Despite our having been up to see the sunrise, we dallied over our morning coffees and visits to the patio rather longer than we should. As a result, I discovered that I’d miscalculated the slack tide period when I wanted to go under the boat to check out the prop and clean the third speed sensor’s surrounding area, and the current was running enthusiastically. So, I gave up on the speed sensor, as I’d have nothing to hang on to, and went for the prop.

However, the current got my hookah’s air line caught up in one of the fishing lines we’d put out overnight, in hopes of catching something larger than the two very small fish we managed to hook in the entire time we’ve been trolling in the Bahamas. In the course of disentangling the line, Lydia managed to lose the bottom half (it’s a collapsible, designed to come apart for easy stowing, and she’d lifted on the top part of the pole when she was removing it from the holder) of the pole, and urged me to hurry to get it.

Of course, it wasn’t going anywhere, having sunk immediately below the boat, and I could see it clearly, so I just grabbed my mask, leaving the fouled air line behind, and headed down. However, I learned how strong the current was when I had to swim vigorously just to get to it, and keep swimming as I came up to avoid ending up far behind the boat. Once that was out of the way, and the line was cut after I flung the lure aboard, getting it out of my air line, I got my hookah regulator and went below with my trusty serrated knife that I always carry.

I was dismayed to find that not only was there a remnant of the prior mooring line around the prop, some of it was jammed into the spaces between the body and the blades (which rotate as they change from feathered to forward or reverse). No wonder she’d not had the power she’d expected!

Ah, well, plenty of air, and the rudder skeg to brace myself against, I went to work cutting away the remnants of the line. I was very glad to see that it hadn’t solidified, from the heat of rotation, into a solid block of nylon, like the rope I cut away, eventually, with a hammer and chisel, on our friends’ boat in Lake Worth about this time last year! Still, I wasn’t able to dislodge the line under the prop ears, and had to content myself with removing all but that small amount, sawing away the loose ends on both sides of all the ears. Once that was done, I grabbed the ears and attempted to make them rotate, but couldn’t move it more than a few degrees by my own force. However, Perky’s 62 HP could exert far more pressure than I on the long edges of the ears of the prop (the way they change direction from forward to reverse and to go into the feathered position when the engine’s not turning), and I was hopeful that would suffice.

While I was down there, I took advantage of the time to cut away some fishing line that had become wrapped around our prop shaft, next to the cutlass bearing. That took a while, but eventually I came back out, When I came up, Lydia said she’d lost the top of the pole in the course of disentangling the lure and the remaining line. I expected it to sink quickly as well, but despite a leash (the same famous mooring line which of which I’d just cut the remnants from the prop) I had her hold me on as I swept the area around the stern of the boat and to both sides, I didn’t see it. So, I’m happy it was an inexpensive combo I’d gotten at WalMart, leaving me with a serviceable reel for some other pole, or perhaps, given that we troll with a release catch, I’ll just try it by itself and a light drag to see what happens.

I did, however, while I was down there working, and again as I was sweeping the area, see the boat behind us’ Fortress anchor with only part of one fluke dug in. As it had a short length of chain, and the rest rope, rode, and the other anchor he had out was all chain, I presume that was his secondary. In any event, by that time, the current was benign, and the winds relatively calm, so it likely would not have mattered. Once I finished with the sweep for the missing pole section, I stowed all the stuff in the lazarette that had to be removed in order to get to our dive gear.

By a little after noon, we were ready to raise anchor and head south to Norman’s Cay. Before I started that process, however, I started Perky up and proved that, even if it wasn’t perfect, there was, indeed, ear rotation from forward to reverse, and plenty of power. So, while I’ll want to make another visit to the prop to confirm its security (this time, perhaps, with a much thinner blade in order to get into the spaces between the body and the ears), for now, it sufficed. As referenced in my last, the anchor raising was uneventful, and, I’m thankful to report, free of debris on either the chain or the anchors themselves. Gotta love this Bahamian water!!

The first thing in the morning, I’d contacted Chris Parker’s replacement and learned that the wind would be from the north-northeast at only 5-10 knots, expected to stay that way for the next few days. As our travels would be southeast, and our forward speed would move the apparent wind forward, we anticipated a spinnaker run on a beam or broad reach. Unfortunately, that trip turned out to be with the wind, and very little of it, at that, directly astern. As we motored out to our turning point, and headed to our next waypoint in order to see what sails to set in what configuration, the apparent wind was dead astern, or no more than 30 degrees to port, and either nonexistent or at most a couple of knots with our 5+ knot cruising motoring speed.

Faced with a 2-3 knot real speed should we try to go with the spinnaker, and our late start, we elected to – again – YUCK! (another thing we really don’t like, along with always-on TV, and this time, WE’RE doing it) motor our way to Norman’s Cay in order to have the hook down before sundown. Fortunately, it was a very short trip, and the waypoint into the anchorage area allowed a turn that did, indeed provide a very nice, albeit, short, beam reach under sail.

The entrance, as is the case in many of these anchorages, looked daunting on the charts (all half-dozen of them we used, including the chartplotter’s), and the cruising guides (again a half-dozen varieties of all sorts) weren’t all that encouraging, either, disagreeing on several key points. The Explorer charts, widely thought of as the absolute authority in Bahamian navigation, pointed out that this area had many unsurveyed areas, that VPR (visual pilotage rules) applied, and a sharp lookout must be maintained at all points. However, we could see that there were many boats anchored in what, from the various sources we consulted, looked, despite a supposed very shallow area, to be the ideal location.

We picked our way in, avoiding the sandbars, the rocks, and other scary stuff, and found ourselves in about 12 feet of water at nearly low tide. There was plenty of room and everyone was using a single anchor, so we snugged up pretty close to another boat’s stern and let our primary, the 55# Delta, down. I could see it land, and the current was running against our direction of travel, so I could also see it dig in as I let out scope about 10 feet at a time, letting it further set each time. Eventually, we wound up parallel to another boat, with about 125’ of chain out. I had Lydia reverse hard, and Flying Pig stopped short and curtseyed, proving a very secure hook.

As we were well before dark, we set about relaxing and watching for the green flash at sundown. No such luck, this time (we’ve yet to see one), but the sky was brilliantly lit above the last remnants of the sun with green shafts, so it was pretty satisfying anyway. Pulling out the remains of the pasta and conch, and adding a soup dish for extra warmth, having gotten a bit chilled when the sun went down, we enjoyed our light dinner.
Norman’s Cay is infamous for its prior involvement with the drug trade, Carlos Lehder at one point owning entirely half of the island, and has a DC3 awash at all but the highest tides in the harbor area to show for it, along with some shot-up houses and other remnants. Those were among the attractions we wanted to check out the next day, and we once again hit the sack early.

Things to do, places to go, sights to see, this again has gotten long, so I’ll leave you here in Paradise. Tomorrow we’ll tell you of our adventures on and under the water on New Year’s Eve…

As always, those on our log lists will receive real-time reports, but those seeing these in the forums will have to wait until we have good internet connectivity. There’s no internet service here, and we don’t know when the next will be, but you can see our progress on our SPOT page, SPOT Shared Page …

Stay tuned :{))

L8R

Skip and Crew

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
Follow us at TheFlyingPigLog : Morgan 461 Hull #2, Flying Pig
and/or Flying Pig Log | Google Groups

"And then again, when you sit at the helm of your little ship on a clear
night, and gaze at the countless stars overhead, and realize that you are
quite alone on a wide, wide sea, it is apt to occur to you that in the
general scheme of things you are merely an insignificant speck on the
surface of the ocean; and are not nearly so important or as self-sufficient
as you thought you were. Which is an exceedingly wholesome thought, and one
that may effect a permanent change in your deportment that will be greatly
appreciated by your friends."- James S. Pitkin

[skipgundlach]

Georgetown Passage – Day 2, Part III, 12-31-08

We left you at sundown, preparing for a day on the water and land. Still no green flash, but we’ll keep watching!

Another lazy morning, despite having, again, watched the sun come up, complete with a lovely rainstorm. We took advantage of all the fresh water to first wash the boat, and then, us, in the rain. We’ve been taking salt water baths, using either boatsoap, a specially formulated soap designed to maintain foamy output even in salt water, or Joy dish soap, a pleasant surprise in that it’s mild enough to use as a shampoo and body wash, but, in addition to allowing salt-water dishwashing, makes a great salt water bathing product.

The Boy Scouts, in their “Extreme Adventure” series which includes sailing the Florida Keys, use it exclusively for bodies, tools, dishwashing and clothing washing, all in salt water, so, we do, too :{)) Anyway, thanks to the tip of one of our cruising buddies, we learned that if we keep towels specifically for salt water use, and dry with those after our rinse cycle (jump in to get thoroughly wet, soap, jump in again and scrub all the soap off you, climb out again), your body doesn’t have any of the typical salt residue from salt water immersion. None the less, we enjoyed our fresh water showers, despite our turning right around later and going in again…

We wondered if the rain would keep up all day, but before noon, the sun had come out and the clouds had cleared. So, the sun comes out, and so do we. This area is full of ruins of prior housing, presumably left over from the drug-running days, and we went to explore some of it. We also wanted to explore one of the tiny islands which were out in the middle of the area in which we were anchored, as well as some of the stuff in the northern part of where we’re anchored, which I’ll detail in a bit.

So, off we go in the dinghy, headed to what looks like a chateau with a couple of turrets in the distance. It turned out to be very close by, and what we presume to be a house in interrupted construction, as there were concrete blocks and bags of concrete present, but only the concrete frame of a very small house, the pointy ends of which were what we’d taken for turrets.

We’ve found a curiosity here in the Bahamas. In addition to the clear water, there’s NO mold. The concrete floor of this house, and later ones we’d explore, despite obvious years of exposure to the elements, had not the first bit of mold or slime on the floor, still wet with the rain from earlier in the day.

From there we just waded to the small island with the single palm tree on it. However, we had to be very careful where we walked, as everywhere you looked the bottom was covered in conch – infant or adolescent, as they were small and had not even a suggestion of the lip which flares out, signifying maturity, at their sides. There were literally hundreds of conch, for hundreds of feet on each side of our walk over. We also saw the same in the shallow areas around the island. I managed to cut my feet on a couple of them during the day…

On the way back to our dinghy, secured on the limestone of the island with the “chateau”, we saw a nurse shark in the shallows – not a foot deep, meandering around. Unfortunately we were not able to get close to it before it moved on, but it was a beautiful animal, probably about 8’ long, graceful in its movements, and we’d have loved to get a closer look. Ah, well, we presume there will be other opportunities as we move through the Bahamas.

From there we dinghied over to a boat we’d wanted to chat up and learned that they’d succeeded in finding eating-sized conch in the shallows at the north end. We resolved to go visit that area, but first we went to the plane…

At low tide, nearly all of it is out of the water, and only a portion of the cabin and the base of the vertical stabilizer remain intact above low water. However, the rest of the structure of the plane remains in relatively good condition, between 1 and 4 feet under water, depending on the tide state. When you’re floating around over it, its size is very impressive! We presume it was not shot down, but, instead, ditched, as the wings and tail plane were intact and in position…

Moving north, it got so shallow that we got out and pulled the dinghy as we foraged for conch. At first, it was all the tiny ones, but soon we found an area with more promise. If we’d been diving, we could have seen them readily, but they were in only a foot or two of water, so we just waded along. Eventually, we picked up about 3 dozen promising specimens. It was such overload that we looked at each with a critical eye, and culled any which didn’t have a pronounced lip. We learned in one of our books that the lip determines maturity, and unless it had a notable flare, we threw it back. At that, we were left with 18 very sizeable conch, and headed back for dinner!

Once on the boat, it was getting a bit late to start with the cleaning of the conch, so I devised a conch anchor – I put the animals in a laundry bag, and tied its cinch line to our dinghy chain and rope rode, and lowered it to the sea floor. It proved very effective as an anchor, as it held us from turning in the wind and current changes. As conch live on the microbes which pass their area, and we have a good current running here, I presumed they’d do just fine down there. However, again, reading some of our library, we learned that the several fish that we found on the bottom of the dinghy weren’t, in fact, “food” but instead Cardinal fish that use the shells of mature conch to hide and forage, as well.

New Year’s Eve is a pretty subdued affair here in the out islands, and while we saw several instances of fireworks, we later learned that the party at McDuff’s, the restaurant associated with the beach club at the end of the landing strip, had a quiet gathering of many cruisers. We had a light dinner, relatively late for us these days, after 7PM.

We expected to go to sleep early, but between all that was happening aboard, and our reading in bed, we didn’t get to sleep until the next year. We drifted off to sleep with the sounds of the last local fireworks gently booming in the distance. As, again, this is getting long, I’ll leave you here and pick up in our next post,

As always, those on our log lists will receive real-time reports, but those seeing these in the forums will have to wait until we have good internet connectivity. There’s no internet service here, and we don’t know when the next will be, but you can see our progress on our SPOT page, SPOT Shared Page …

Stay tuned :{))

L8R

Skip and Crew
Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
Follow us at TheFlyingPigLog : Morgan 461 Hull #2, Flying Pig
and/or Flying Pig Log | Google Groups

"And then again, when you sit at the helm of your little ship on a clear
night, and gaze at the countless stars overhead, and realize that you are
quite alone on a wide, wide sea, it is apt to occur to you that in the
general scheme of things you are merely an insignificant speck on the
surface of the ocean; and are not nearly so important or as self-sufficient
as you thought you were. Which is an exceedingly wholesome thought, and one
that may effect a permanent change in your deportment that will be greatly
appreciated by your friends."- James S. Pitkin

[skipgundlach]

Georgetown Passage – Day 2, Part IV, 01-01-09

We left you early on New Year’s Day, sleeping soundly.

We slept in a bit (for us – about 8:30) and woke, expecting to go exploring again. The weather turned out to be pretty nasty – very cloudy and windy, and threatening rain, so despite my having fetched the conch anchor, successfully, as it appeared we’d be rained on, rather than commence with the cleaning, I lowered the bag again, after retying the line to the chain. OH NO!! The light line making the grocery bag cinch broke!

So, I had Lydia keep an eye on the very visible bag, and dug out the dive gear. I took another light nylon mooring line we had down with me and wrapped it up like a package, simulating, I’m sure, the early Greek’s method of anchoring, except this was conch, not a rock! However, in the meantime, the boat had moved, and I had to hoist the package, swing it forward (it was far too heavy for me to swim it) and chase the boat, as my line was getting too short, and, in one case, it kinked, shutting off my air.

Fortunately, it was close enough for me to see and unwind, restoring the supply, and because I knew what had happened, it didn’t panic me, but it did get my attention, because my first (reflexive) impulse was, as would have been the case if I’d been snorkeling and got the end under water (making a non-clear airflow), to blow out forcefully. Snorkeling, that would have cleared the snorkel. With delivered air, it just meant that I had nothing to work with in my lungs!

Anyway, I eventually caught up with the boat and handed up the bowline loop I’d put around my waist to Lydia for her to hoist with the boathook. Connected to our side cleat, they rested comfortably on the bottom until I got to them the next day. As I was already in the water, I decided I might as well do my under-the-boat chores I’d been meaning to do, and got my scraper and went to work.

I was able to carefully clean around all the speed sensors, and to clean around the depth sensors, and the housing around one of the depth sensors, in case it interrupted the water flow to the speed sensor – the one which hasn’t yet revived, despite the little paddle wheel turning freely - near it. I also got the very few places the barnacles had managed to attach on the boat, and confirmed that the last bits of rope remaining in the prop had dissipated. The ears turned freely, and I removed the extremely few and small barnacles that had managed to survive the spinning of the PropSpeed-coated prop (it’s slippery, and slings anything which tries to adhere as the prop turns).

While I was under, I also marveled at the Bahamian water’s effect on the bottom, as there was only the slightest bit of slime on one side – which, if conditions hold, will come right off as we make our port-tack run to Georgetown in a couple of days. Our dinghy’s been in the water for a week or so, and the bottom just shines – not the first hint of a line or anything worse…

So, I came out and got warm in the sun. We’d decided that the more sensible place to store our snorkeling gear would be in the dinghy, which has a seat with a bag under it, currently holding only the foot pump for the dinghy tubes. The two flipper sets and mask and snorkel bag all fit neatly in there, so we have it in the dinghy, now, whenever we see a snorkeling opportunity present itself. In the Bahamas, it’s illegal (unless you’re a native) to take anything from the sea using compressed air, so the majority of the time, other than sightseeing, we’d be snorkeling, anyway. Having accomplished all I could see needed under the boat, I put away the dive gear and restowed the remainder of the lazarette, cleaning up that part of the deck.

Lydia and her mom had been cleaning the stainless steel, dressing up Flying Pig, which hadn’t had a good stainless polish since the last time her mother was aboard. All the stuff which had been on the arch was now on the deck, allowing access to all the stainless which needed polishing. As I was still chilled and the weather was still very blustery, I delayed commencing with the conch, instead putting out the London Broil we’d been carrying in the freezer since Miami – YUM! – to thaw,

With all the stuff being removed, and the prospect of still water coming, with Lydia’s mom still being a bit incapacitated but showing signs of wanting to get in the water, finally, I decided to tackle our side ladder…
We rigged the over-the-side ladder for the first time, and it will work a treat. It may even be possible to leave it in position permanently, as I’d originally intended. This ladder is the subject of one of the photo essays during our refit in the gallery in my signature line below, for those who may be interested.

It was no bargain, in the end, over one that can be bought already made up, but those require putting on the slide rail for the genoa turning block, and thus wouldn’t work for us. The over-a-boatbuck price turned us against it, but in the end, I expect ours cost us more than that. We started with the standard aft ladder that attached to the stern and, when raised, made a gate for the center-entry stern.

As the backstay was in the middle of that, when I designed the arch and platform, I had the entry to port, making it clearer (the backstay is now just inside the center stanchion of the pushpit, now integrated to the arch). Since the platform had its own ladder, this was a surplus part. However, it had an angle welded into it from the brackets on which it pivoted, allowing the ladder to lay against the stern and then go straight up for the gate. In the down position, it lay against the bottom of the transom, making the balance of it straight down. That angle would later allow us to clear our rub rail in its new position.

Literally everything we took off the boat found new homes, and in every instance other than one air conditioning unit and one LectraSan, which an internet buddy who came to help me uninstall those took in trade for our satellite receiver system, they all went to Morgan owners. Waste not, want not :{)) Anyway, I saw the possibility for this to work for the side, and figured out how we could modify it.

It had no steps, so my primary contractor and I designed, cut and installed teak steps over the stainless tubing. It wasn’t long enough to provide the depth needed for comfortable mounting from the sea, as the pivot point for it to be the gate in the stern had lowered it a full foot from where I’d have to mount it on the side, so my electrical contractor welded in a new section, adding a step. We used the original mounting bracket for one side, and salvage parts from one of the salvage houses for the other. The ladder could, with new hinges and extensions (some of the leftover being what I used for my “monster screwdriver in the scupper repair), not only stand up at the side gate, but flop over the genoa slide rail. The final touch was to make the standoff legs short enough to match the side, and to make it possible to swing them in when not in use.
All that was very well, but we calculated in all the hours and materials that we probably spent well over the boatbuck (BOAT – break out another thousand) the ready-made, classy looking, boarding ladder would have cost us. But, frankly, this one is classier, sturdier, and can be moved from one side to the other, not to mention, stowed, if needed.

By the time we were finished with the various boat chores, combined with our late rising, it was time to have dinner, early, again. We cooked up the London Broil, saving half of it for another dinner, or, perhaps, sandwiches. Tomorrow I’ll tackle the conch, hoping to use some of the knowledge, gained in yet another of our books, to make the chore a bit less tedious…
So, we’ll leave you again, but, in the famous words of the now-governor of California, “I’ll be back!” :{))

As always, those on our log lists will receive real-time reports, but those seeing these in the forums will have to wait until we have good internet connectivity. There’s no internet service here, and we don’t know when the next will be, but you can see our progress on our SPOT page, SPOT Shared Page …

Stay tuned :{))

L8R

Skip and Crew

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
Follow us at TheFlyingPigLog : Morgan 461 Hull #2, Flying Pig
and/or Flying Pig Log | Google Groups

"And then again, when you sit at the helm of your little ship on a clear
night, and gaze at the countless stars overhead, and realize that you are
quite alone on a wide, wide sea, it is apt to occur to you that in the
general scheme of things you are merely an insignificant speck on the
surface of the ocean; and are not nearly so important or as self-sufficient
as you thought you were. Which is an exceedingly wholesome thought, and one
that may effect a permanent change in your deportment that will be greatly
appreciated by your friends."- James S. Pitkin

[GordMay]

SKIP:
Do you know how to do a Knot-Log “Tap Test”?

Goto: http://www.cruisersforum.com/forums/...ent-15440.html

Originally Posted by skipgundlach

... I was able to carefully clean around all the speed sensors, and to clean around the depth sensors, and the housing around one of the depth sensors, in case it interrupted the water flow to the speed sensor – the one which hasn’t yet revived, despite the little paddle wheel turning freely ...

[mobetah]

So, I guess foreigners taking conch in the Bahamas is no longer illegal?

[Sailingbeagles]

Thanks for sharing - we are looking forward to our time in the Bahamas in about a year, and it's nice to read about someone out there enjoying what we remember so vividly.

Have Bahamian fishing regulations changed again regarding conch? Sounds like it must be so!

[AnchorageGuy]

Seems our boy is breaking the law:

"Conch: The Queen Conch (conch) is considered an endangered species throughout much of the wider Caribbean, including The Bahamas. In an effort to ensure the continued sustainability of local conch stocks, the harvesting of the species by foreign boaters is prohibited."

[AnchorageGuy]

Here are the rules as they are posted:

Bahamas Fishing Laws & Regulations

The Department of Marine Resources wishes to advise the general public that the several amendments to the Regulations governing sportsfishing have been made and that these changes came into force on 1st January, 2007. The amendments which have been made to Regulation 48 of the Fisheries Regulations have the effect of curtailing the amount of marine resources which can legally be harvested by foreign boaters visiting the Bahamas.
The general public is informed that Regulation 48 now reads:
48. (1) In sportsfishing the following rules apply-
a) A person shall fish by the traditional method of angling with a hook or lure attached to a line held in the hand or attached to a pole, rod or reel;
b) A person, unless otherwise authorized by the respective permit, shall not use a spear, a fish trap, or a net other than a landing net;
c) Each vessel shall use not more than six (6) rods or reels unless the operator is in possession of a permit authorizing the use of more rods or reels;
d) Any migratory fishery resource that is caught shall not in total consist of more than six (6) Kingfish, Dolphin, Tuna or Wahoo per vessel and any resource not intended to be used shall not be injured unnecessarily but be returned to the sea alive;
e) No vessel shall have on board any conch, turtle or more than twenty pounds of any demersal fishery resources (groupers, snappers, etc.) per vessel at any time and excluding not more than six crawfish per vessel.
(2) The limitations specified in (1)(d) and (e) shall also apply to a Bahamian vessel engaged in fishing for purposes other than commercial by persons who are not Bahamians;
(3) Subject to paragraph (1) no vessel shall have on board any fish unless its head and tail is intact.
The general public is advised that the Queen Conch (conch) is considered to be an endangered species throughout much of its range within the wider Caribbean area, including The Bahamas. The Government, in an effort to ensure the continued sustainability of local conch stocks, has decided to prohibit the harvesting of the species by foreign boaters

[Amgine]

This forum is not a court of law, and we are not judges. I assume others are responsible for their actions, even when they may not be aware of the legal questions. I also speed with some regularity in my car; I suspect rather a few of the forum contributors do so.

[camaraderie]

Skip....you said "Chris Parker's Replacement". Has something happened with Chris or is this just a vacation fill in?

[Hud3]

Cam,

Chris took a few days off over the holidays. He's got backup that fills in for him.

[camaraderie]

Thanks Hud...Glad to know all is well in paradise!

[skipgundlach]

Georgetown Passage – Day 2, Part V, 01-02 through 10-04-09
The New Year aboard Flying Pig was a subdued affair, as seen in my last. Weather had us staying on the boat and doing boat chores. You’ve heard it before – “Cruising is boat repairs in exotic locations!” – and this was to prove no exception.
Today was to be conch harvesting day, the sun being a bit more promising, so as Lydia and her mom continued with polishing stainless, I hauled up the conch anchor. All were alive and well, and I set to extracting, trimming and skinning the 17 large conch we had left. One of my correspondents had written to me to ask about catch limits, as the Bahamas, in the last couple of years, at the same time they raised the cruising permits (which include a fishing license for the boat) prices to $150 or $300, depending on the size of the boat, had also, at the same time, instituted catch limits on conch and all the other forms of nourishment from the sea. Our interpretation of the rule on conch was that we were permitted 6 per person aboard. Given that they’d not keep, we’d not have more than that in any case. And, as we have had absolutely no luck in fishing of any sort, here, we were in no danger of bumping up against any of the other limits, at least not for the moment!
In the book we’d found, I got a very much clearer view of the extraction process, and quickly moved through the heavy mound sitting next to me on the platform. I’d decided to shuck them all and then clean them all, which, for reasons you’ll see in a minute, I’ll not do again.
For those who may have successfully found, but had trouble getting out the meat in, a conch, I learned that the secret was not only where I’d been making the hole (I’d been starting from the top, not the largest points, which usually meant it was too high), but that I didn’t have to do much cutting, at all. Using a filet knife, keeping it against the center (not outside) of the shell, I pushed it as far down as possible. It’s that center part where the muscle attaches, and a slight twist, following the shell, to either side, if the straight-down didn’t do it, was all that was needed to easily separate the animal from its home.
The first 8 or so went very quickly, but I got a big surprise when I picked up the next one, as it had a huge hermit crab in it! When I’d harvested it, I’d only checked to see that there was a dark “something” in the open part of the shell, and had missed the nature of the occupant :{)) He was easily the size of a small lobster, and pretty entertaining to look at, but we put him back in the water after a photo-op. Finally, near the end, I picked up one whose shell was nearly black, and the inside had started to go dark. Another item learned from the book, which showed us that it was very old, suggested we return him to the sea, also, as local knowledge suggested they could have accumulated toxins we'd be sorry about if we were to eat it. Accordingly, he joined the hermit crab and all the empties off the stern. We were still left with 17 to clean.
I’d been plopping them in a bucket of seawater as I extracted them, and put them all on the cutting board while I refreshed the bucket. This same book referenced before had a good diagram on how to clean them, and I set to doing that. I confess to having been overconfident, as the extraction process had gone so well, whereas NONE of the meats surrendered their skins as was expected from the diagrams and having seen the pro in Nassau so easily do. Whereas the extraction took perhaps 10 minutes, the preparation took easily 3 hours.
However, as I handled each, they seemed firmer than I’d have thought. The next time we do this, I’ll extract and clean each in turn, as I suspect rigor mortis or its piscine equivalent may have been at work. That said, these weren’t slimy to any notable degree, unlike our first batch, so, the selfsame book’s assertion that slime is a product of stress seems to have been borne out, my extraction having been much faster and more efficient this time, not allowing the animal time for stress. And, despite the very long time it took to clean them, we were left with a very large pile of meat.
This time, I took them below and lightly scored them on both sides in a checkerboard fashion, as our pro in Nassau had done, before slicing them. These small scores would allow more surface area for the marinade to work, and we’d eat these cold. Sure enough, the first half or so of the pile were delicious in our salad. We threw the remainder in an Alfredo sauce over pasta a couple of days later, and while they were definitely more in the line of “eraser” quality, they surrendered to chewing readily, and retained their delicious character. We’ll see if my immediate cleaning has an effect on not only the ease of cleaning, but how they are in the eating :{))
The next day was time to return to McDuff’s, the pub/bar/restaurant on the beach at the far side of the runway nearby our anchorage, as they offered free internet. When we arrived, we’d seen their encrypted signal and hailed them on the VHF. They said it was free at the bar, so we went in to have a drink and see how we could qualify for the signal. It’s a very limited system, with the wifi portion provided only to renters in the cottages, but they have the router set up with 4 ethernet cables, and invite patrons to sit at the “internet table” with a direct feed.
So, we arrived early, finding the couple we’d chatted up at the bar on our first visit already logged on. We came before the lunch rush so we’d be out of their way, and set in to work over our iced tea and coffees. I’d taken Lydia’s mom’s computer to download whatever mail she might have had, and to post the prior logs to the forums and mailing lists who do without when we’re SailMailing (the HF radio email program which gets this log posted when we’re at sea, courtesy of my son), as well as to post the current logs to all the places they eventually appear. Her computer is ancient in technical terms (8 years old), and it took forever on my side of the activity. Meanwhile, Lydia was able to pull up her YouTube videos of her grandson, as well as do other bandwidth-intensive chores, but we failed to make Skype work. Every connection we tried was crystal clear to us, but totally unintelligible to the other end…
While we were waiting for downloads, or, in my case, just waiting for a change in browser tabs, the restaurant bustled, with Stephan, the restaurant manager/owner, and Celeste, SO of the other owner, Chris, who has a concierge service and also arranges for all the provisions and supplies to be delivered, scurrying to serve the nice crowd – but with limited and diminishing menu items! Earlier in the week, they’d had a gangbuster several days, with one day including 100 for the lunch period. Given the challenges of supplying a tiny island with all of 4 permanent residents, it’s not surprising that, when a food delivery was missed, they started running out of things to serve!
So, by the time the rush had died and we ordered, there were only grouper, mahi-mahi, and chicken left. That sounds negative, but with Lydia’s kids all having spent time in the hospitality business, we saw it as very positive.
During our various other times when they weren’t having to rush around, we’d chatted them up, learning how they possibly managed to get, for example, their diesel which powered their generator, or their propane on which they cook, or, for that matter, how they managed their food ordering, what with the vagaries of both customer preference and the challenges of preservation. By the time we ordered, we felt like family :{))
I’ll spare you the details, but each element involves manual transfer and several handlings of whatever it is, from fuel to propane to parts to food provisions. The fact that they can usually manage to have a full menu at all is quite an accomplishment. The other fact that they do so at prices that aren’t far off stateside prices (beer and Coke products excepted) is astounding. Put that together with a marvelous “keeping it real” atmosphere, friendly encounters along the “Cheers” lines, and marvelous hosts makes this a definite “do-not-miss” opportunity if you find yourselves in the Norman’s Cay area.
Oh, and the sandwiches were delicious, the Ceasar salad wonderful, and the french fries perfectly prepared (to meet Lydia’s and my unusual preference). By the time we left to go back to the dinghy, we felt like we’d known them all our lives. As we had many full-sized charts of the area we found we’d not been using due to the complete coverage of the Explorer Charts, we offered to bring extras over for them to post for ambience and patrons’ information, and to do a book exchange. The next day, just before dark, we did just that, and bade them a fond farewell and hurried back to the boat for dinner and another early night.
We’ll leave you there, with us still swinging to the current on our anchor in deep water…
As always, those on our log lists will receive real-time reports, but those seeing these in the forums will have to wait until we have good internet connectivity. There’s no internet service here, and we don’t know when the next will be, but you can see our progress on our SPOT page, SPOT Shared Page …
Stay tuned :{))
L8R
Skip and Crew
Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
Follow us at TheFlyingPigLog : Morgan 461 Hull #2, Flying Pig
and/or Flying Pig Log | Google Groups
"And then again, when you sit at the helm of your little ship on a clear
night, and gaze at the countless stars overhead, and realize that you are
quite alone on a wide, wide sea, it is apt to occur to you that in the
general scheme of things you are merely an insignificant speck on the
surface of the ocean; and are not nearly so important or as self-sufficient
as you thought you were. Which is an exceedingly wholesome thought, and one
that may effect a permanent change in your deportment that will be greatly
appreciated by your friends."- James S. Pitkin

[skipgundlach]

Georgetown Passage – Day 2, Part VI, 01-05 through 10-07-09
We left you with us swinging on our anchor, secure in our deep-water location in an area rife with water which disappears at low tide, sometimes.
The prior weather reports had suggested we should leave Monday night in order to make our best passage to Georgetown, but I got up early to check in with Chris Parker, our weather guru, anyway. His most current report suggested it was still the best time to go, but it would be a very close reach, with us going as far out as possible and keeping as close-hauled as we could all the way, in order to moderate the wind’s shifting from just slightly north of east to somewhat south of east. As it was forecast to be stiff enough to suggest it, with our forward motion adding to the speed in the close reach or beat, we resolved to put in a reef before we left.
However, the day was perfect for the remainder of the polishing-up which Lydia and her Mom couldn’t reach so I rigged up my bosun’s chair, using the preventer with its 4-1 purchase to hoist myself. I attached the clam-cleated end, alternately, to the prior dinghy lift attachment points (we’d had to move our blocks inboard as the new dinghy wasn’t as wide as the one on which I’d drawn my specs for the arch construction) and two places under the arch. Hoisting myself provided a firm platform in each location and I finished off the arch and the solar panel frame in short order. The stainless there hasn’t looked that good since the day we bought it!
We’d wanted to take Portia over to the tiny island so she could do some un-leashed wandering around, and this would be the last chance – so we took it :{)) We also took along the Joy, for a salt water bath, and a good time was had by all. As the sun was heading south (well, further under, to the west), we headed back to the boat. While Lydia did dinner, I put the dinghy to bed in its hoist and straps arrangement I’d worked out to keep it snug and free from swinging.
The day we hurried ashore to give the charts to McDuff’s, as I went to start the engine, the recoil starter took a vacation. It started by not pulling at all, so I pulled off the cover to investigate, and, while the cause of the initial lockup wasn’t evident, when I pulled the cord, it came out, but didn’t return.
Thank goodness (see one of my other signature lines about problems delivering gifts, now at the bottom of this post) that didn’t happen on our return, because, being at the boat, Lydia was able to fetch a line that I could use to manually start the engine – we’d have been out of luck ashore! That line will remain in the little seat cubby aboard for future difficulties, but, reinforcing the “Cruising is boat repair in exotic locations!” truth, I’ll have to take the top end of the engine apart to see if I can repair it, or if I’ll have to get the folks who are flying to Georgetown to bring me the replacement part. That will be one of my 1-2-3’s on Tuesday.
That’s because…
We’d planned to leave slightly before dark, following the narrow channel out to the Exuma Sound. Unfortunately, earlier, I’d regarded the slack water in the current we’d seen that morning as the break in the tide. Instead of high tide being about 3 in the afternoon, it had been nearly 1PM. Accordingly, we got about 200 yards north of where we’d been anchored all this time and went firmly but extremely gently aground in the sand and grass in the falling tide.
No amount of motor, throttle, wheel and gearshift tricks I tried would dislodge her, but we did discharge a notable amount of soot, having not run the engine hard in quite a while. So, we gave Perky a good colonic while we tried to get off :{)) Meanwhile, one of the neighboring boats had seen our plight, and Clark came over in his dinghy, offering to carry our anchor off for us to try to kedge off. Three tries confirmed that we were well stuck, and we went to bed on a slight slope.
Our conversation with Chris Parker Tuesday morning revealed that much of the US was going to be experiencing some really nasty marine weather in the short term future, but the Bahamas would see a little bit better. As the front moved through, and made its rotation, Tuesday would experience some south winds by the evening, Wednesday would see the wind begin its westward clock, and by Thursday PM, the wind would be back in the northerly quadrant. So, we set our new plan to leave Thursday afternoon. In the process, of course, the tide’s high would move later in the day, helping with that, as well, but, having chatted up our neighbor who helped us try to get off our grounding, we have a much clearer eye for where the channel is :{))
So, once again, we’re stuck – sun and breezes, sandy shores, palms waving, places to explore – it’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it! Of course, the rising tide floated us again, but that was about midnight Tuesday morning, so I wasn’t about to move it then. Instead we moved the boat back to deeper water during the day, and set about to enjoy our surroundings. There are far worse places to be stuck, so to speak!
Before we moved, we plotted out the channel we’d follow, and, putting our chartplotter into 1/64 mile range, plotted about 8 waypoints. We got off at what we calculated to be high tide, but it was a very slow affair with much nosing this way and that to finally work our way out of the sand. However, it was otherwise uneventful, and we put our hook on the second of the marks. Later, we put the other outboard on the dinghy (the 6HP one we’d normally use on the PortaBote, our “sports car” or “runabout” we rarely use) to run out to have a look firsthand at the channel we’d be following later this week.
Unfortunately, our handheld depth meter seemed to want to go to sleep, so we didn’t get actual measurements, but we did get to visit the area, and chatted up a returning couple who’d gotten 3 lovely lobster for their dinner. Earlier, Clark had found the area we pointed out to him and had a conch to go with the lobster he’d found. We believe we’ll have to get a lobster tip for our spear, as they are somewhat specialized in comparison to the usual tip for fish. Of course, neither matters much, as we’ve not seen the first spear-able underwater resident yet!
Anyway, we drifted out to sea while we were chatting up the folks with the lobsters, so we were in a good position to explore the extreme south end of the eastern side of the island, an isolated patch of limestone with dunes covering much of it. Over the dune we go, and look on a huge expanse of palmetto, dense to the point that it would take a machete to go more than a few feet. What a marvelous, desolate, beautiful area it was, with another small island in the distance to the east, a couple of smaller islands south, and the main part of Norman’s Cay visible in the distance beyond where we’d anchored
When we got back, after replacing the batteries in our handheld depth sounder, I lit into the recoil starter. That involved fabricating a flywheel puller, which I was thrilled to succeed in doing from my spare parts bin, and its removal, aside from the “BANG!” the flywheel made as it separated from the crankshaft, which was alarming until I figured it out, was straightforward. The removal of the recoil gear was likewise straightforward, if a bit tedious with all the other stuff that had to come off, and I set about to troubleshooting.
The mechanism relies on a huge clockwork spring, which, unfortunately, resisted bending into the shape required to match the fitting where the broken end used to go. Being spring steel, it broke on my first three attempts to shape it, but taking my torch to about 3 inches of it softened it enough that I was able to persuade it to match the shape of the original. Reinstallation was pretty simple, and I also managed to solve a few other problems we’d had (for example, failure to pull and seeming to lock up on start attempt) by observing how stuff was supposed to work (I didn’t have a shop manual, much to my disappointment), and putting things where they belonged. A final loosening of the works and a liberal application of 3-In-One Oil in the spring area made everything move smoothly. I reinstalled the flywheel and pulled, receiving a satisfying whir and retraction of the starter rope. Replacing the cover finished the operation. Phew! Pulling the cover off and winding the rope around the flywheel to start it each time got old very quickly :{))
We gave McDuff’s a call on the radio, and found that they’d had a food delivery, so we’ll take advantage of that to take us all in for some internet and a late lunch/early dinner on Wednesday.
Wednesday we woke early, to check in on the weather, just to make sure we were still on for Thursday PM. If anything, it improved, so I set to my 1-2-3's - the little things which keep ahead of the boatyard. I made up the mount for our solar light which we'll put on the dinghy, eventually, and at the same time, did one for our pushpit, which will provide light for additional anchoring security. That same light will sit in the propellor of the first boat I ever owned. Bronze, it polished up beautifully with a power buffer, and will make a lovely dinner light for the table in the saloon. Finally, I took a wire wheel to both the outboard motor mount on the pushpit (it has a stainless strip where the clamps press), removing some of the surface rust and making it a bit more compatible with all the polishing which has been happening lately. Then, I took the same wire wheel to our secondary anchor's snubber chain hook, which had rusted somewhat, and sprayed it with stainless steel "paint" - a preparation we've found to be very effective in not only arresting, but avoiding future, rust. As we expect we'll have to double anchor in Georgetown, that was one of my somewhat-priority items I'd been meaning to do for some time, as it was staining the deck where we stow it when we're not using it. The main anchor has a specialty fitting on the snubber line, and it's stainless already, and still looks great.
That finished, I stowed all the tools and cleaned up. We went over to McDuff's (www.ncbcmacduffs.com) to enjoy the internet access and another marvelous lunch, this time their famous burger and, again, their perfectly prepared french fries, meeting Lydia and my unusual preferenced (nearly burned) preparation. We'll be returning to the boat soon, so we’ll leave you here, and see you on the way to Georgetown!
.
As always, those on our log lists (if you don’t want to wait for our internet connection, you can subscribe or view via the Google and Yahoo links in my signature line) will receive real-time reports, but those seeing these in the forums will have to wait until we have good internet connectivity. There’s no internet service here, and we don’t know when the next will be, but you can see our progress on our SPOT page, SPOT Shared Page …
Stay tuned :{))
L8R
Skip and Crew
Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
Follow us at TheFlyingPigLog : Morgan 461 Hull #2, Flying Pig
and/or Flying Pig Log | Google Groups
"You are never given a wish without also being given the power
to make it come true. You may have to work for it however."
(and)
"There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in
its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
(Richard Bach, in The Reluctant Messiah)