Now that we’re home and securely locked into our life on land routine, we have looked back on this, our second major voyage aboard Let’s Dance, with satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment earned through persistence, patience, creativity and more than a touch of luck.
We have enough maritime memories to last for years, and enough pilfered shells to pave a walkway. Some of our favorite times were spent on remote anchorages, deserted white sand beaches only a Love Me Tender ride away from the mother ship. The lack of other boats in the Exumas was surprising to us, but pleasant, as we tend to shy away from crowds wherever we go. This is due, no doubt in part, to our anchoring technique. Again, with the mathematical precision of a computer programmer, the captain figures the correct ratio of water depth to length of rode (sea talk for anchor chain) necessary for optimum holding. Calculations made, we often put out 100 to 150 feet of chain. Imagine you‘re in ten feet of water then, and you can see that our potential arc is over 90 feet! No wonder we try to anchor off from the crowds. Often we would share an anchorage with only sea critters for company. Perfect!
Let’s Dance’s Bahamian voyage saw many new entries for our daily logs:
We added 1,400 nautical miles to the odometer and are new proud owners of a Nordhavn 5,000 mile club pennant! It will be proudly displayed adjacent to the 2,500 mile pennant we earned mid-summer last year on our Maine adventure.
We made our first ocean crossing and our first overnighter with just the pair of us on board. I was skeptical of my ability to hold up with little sleep, but Bill’s confidence and good humor got us through with only minor grumbling on my part.
The longest continuous leg of the journey was 203 nautical miles. It took us about 28 hours -- divided into two hour watches -- and gallons of hot coffee -- to make the offshore passage from Port Canaveral, FL to Sapelo Island, SC. About 8 am the second morning we were entertained by a trio of bottlenose dolphins as they charged our bow then leapt and dove, using our wake as a their own personal rollercoaster. Later, during one of my daylight stints, I sighted what appeared to be a swiftly moving shopping mall skimming along the horizon. As it moved closer, I could spot several Coast Guard escorts, so obviously, it was not a mall. It proved to be an honest to goodness Navy nuclear submarine. On the surface! Soon the VHF radio crackled, with a young male voice saying, “Let’s Dance, this is the US Coast Guard! Answer on channel 16!” By this time, Bill was in the pilothouse with me and he picked up the call. “This is Let’s Dance on 16, what can we do for you?” Young voice: “I have to advise you, captain, that you must keep a minimum distance of 500 yards from all naval vessels!” Hmmm…Captain Bill responds, with assurance, “Yes, sir! Our radar indicates that we are 2 and a half miles from the submarine.” Young voice: “Ah, yes, well, carry on, captain.” Guess we showed him we know our stuff!
Positive surprises included cooler weather than anticipated, the accuracy of our charts (both paper and electronic), the friendliness of the Bahamian people and the broad coverage of Bahama’s phone service. (Remember the 13 phone calls Bill made to James in West Palm as he reattached the fallen windlass?)
Minor disappointments were again primarily technical in nature. Internet access was problematic at best and infuriatingly slow when it deigned to appear at all. Our navigation system often cut out at the beginning of the journey, but with two backup systems, we were never really out of touch with our surroundings -- just slightly aggravated until Bill worked with the tech folks and got us back on line.
Mother Nature did more than her share of both delighting us and giving us pause. I saw the ‘green flash’ twice, five water spouts kept us rapt as they danced away from us, flying fish by the hundreds skipped to port and starboard as we disturbed their peace and Bill caught enough fish to both eat and freeze. And the stars -- beyond my pale ability to describe.
We also encountered ‘the rage’ for the first (and second) times on the return trip aboard our sturdy ship. A rage forms at inlets or breakwaters when outgoing tides collide with incoming swells pushed by substantial winds. Our exit from the Ft. Pierce, FL channel into the Atlantic provided just the right conditions for an angry sea. Swells of up to eight feet slammed our bow repeatedly -- 20 minutes or so that felt like hours. We lunged forward then reared back as the waves pounded on Let’s Dance. Aside from minor discomfort at not being able to move around, we suffered no damage and were once again pleased with our choice of boat. Our second encounter with the rage took place at the juncture of Sapelo Sound and the Atlantic. Again, a narrow breakwater channeled the outgoing tide directly into the incoming swells but, having experienced this before, we were prepared for the wild ride. (A lesson learned early on in our aquatic adventures: always secure everything in the boat, from dishes to books to food in the fridge, before getting underway.)
So, the 2011 spring voyage of Let’s Dance brought laughs, awe, patience, hard work, luck, pride, deep breaths and wonder. We had such a great time that we’re going to do it again! July will see Bill and some buddies making an offshore passage from Daufuskie to the Chesapeake where I will join him for the rest of the summer’s travels. We hope to spend more time in fewer places this summer, but as before, will just follow our noses and see where we end up.
Oh, “Water Logs.” Only recently I learned that the unfortunate word “blog” was derived from the terms “web” and “log.” I don’t like that, so from now on, these little snippets of our life at sea will be ‘water logs.’ Enjoy your summer and come back for another trip aboard
Let’s Dance…..Carol & Bill
