Bahama Bound - Christmas Day

 January 21, Day 28 Underway

Saturday afternoon we set off for Lucaya… or at least we tried to. When it came time to pull up the anchor, we discovered our anchor chain was wrapped around a massive handmade fisherman’s anchor. What a mess! Thankfully, a very kind soul came over and helped us untangle the whole situation. No photo of the chaos, but here’s a video of the last of it getting untangled. 

With that behind us, we headed out with plans to cross the Gulf Stream overnight in calm seas. Spoiler alert: all three weather models were wrong. It was choppy, rolly, and not at all relaxing. I spent most of the night lying down with my eyes closed so I don’t become an issue, while Steve powered through. I did sit up around 3:30 a.m. to help him stay awake 🙂

It was pitch black out there. No moon, no nothing. The chart plotter photo shows us as the red triangle, surrounded by ships—some of which barely had their lights on. We were going 6.1 kts, the next weigh point was in 1 hr 23 min with an arrival time of 5:57am. On the chart plotter Steve noticed one of the sailboats in our group was getting kind of close to one of the tankers and called him to see if he saw it and he did NOT. 

Mid-crossing we heard a loud crash. We were like what the heck was that?  Turns out our radar reflector had come crashing down and broke. You know—the thing that helps big ships see us. 

Good news: every boat made it across safely! Next stop was customs and immigration. Yellow quarantine flag up, only the captain allowed off the boat, and once cleared—hello Bahamas! We were granted 90 days.

After that? Sleep. Or at least an attempt. Standing on the dock, I couldn’t tell if it was moving or if I was. Turns out it was just me. By the next day I felt fine, but Steve couldn’t catch a nap without something going wrong—still flying the quarantine flag after clearance, his jacket blowing into the water, and various other interruptions… LOL.

Yesterday I took the water taxi to the market and asked to be picked up at 11. By 11:30, I realized I was either walking back or hoping someone would eventually wonder why my one hour trip is taking so long. With no cell service, I walked—about a mile and a half back to the marina. The driver did come back, apparently, but somehow missed me sitting in plain sight sitting by the dock. On a positive note, I got in a good number of steps.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the tennis situation. Apparently, finding the courts was simple: go to the end of the road, take a left, pass two high-rise hotels, slip between them, and voilà—tennis courts.

So off I went on a jog, determined to secure a tennis lesson. Online, it promised different court surfaces and all sorts of options. After finally locating what appeared to be the courts… I discovered they had fallen into ruin.

Long story short—no tennis for me.

So today, we are preparing to head to the Berries tomorrow, weather permitting. Everything revolves around fronts, timing, and trying not to get stuck. The goal? Keep moving south and stay ahead of the chaos.