On Tuesday, January 24, 2012, at exactly 0907 hours, Carol and the Captain officially went over the edge. You may believe that this happened some years ago, but no. This is how it went:
The route from Florida to Cat Cay took us across the Straits of Florida, a 60 mile ride through the Gulf stream in water that ranged from 150 to over 900 feet deep. Let's Dance flew over the ocean, scaring up the occasional fleet of flying fish along the way and playing tag with a few dolphin friends, too. Bill put out the fishing lines and soon the 'zing' cry of "fish on" rang out! Several hours later, with Cat Cay in sight, and much shallower waters ahead, it was time to bring in the lines. Final score: Captain Bill - 0; Fish - 2! Lures, that is.
Cat Cay is "private" and mariners are cautioned to avoid anchoring at the end of the little runway that dissects the island. Smart! One plane did, in fact, land while we floated nearby. This tiny dot in the ocean lies just south of Bimini at the western edge of the Great Bahama Bank. The ocean here can only boast depths of 10 to about 30 feet -- a far cry from what we just crossed. A real plus for us to this shallow water is that tankers, cargo ships and especially cruise ships draw too much water to get in our way. The 60 mile passage east across the Bank was very, very quiet. We were en route for 7 hours before encountering even one other boat, and it was over 4 miles off our port side. Talk about a lonely planet!
Our anchorage that night, in 20 feet of water, was beyond amazing -- just us and the stars. I know the dippers and Orion's belt, but that's about the extent of my astrological acumen. Even with no savvy at all, however, the clear night sky, 60 miles from the nearest manmade light, was beyond breath-taking. Our lonely anchor light must have looked pretty insignificant in the vastness of the ocean around us.
The next leg of the journey, south and east to Andros Island, took us into the Northwest Channel. Let's Dance boasts two depth finders, or transducers, that measure the "DBK" or depth below the keel, a number of great significance in these shallow Bahamian waters. We left our solitary anchorage, noting that we still had 14 feet DBK. Then, suddenly, within minutes, there was no depth reading -- at all. On any of the three dials that reliably report this data. Just dotted lines where once there were numbers. We have, it seems, fallen off the edge of the world, and into the "Tongue of the Ocean."
The trusty depth finders bounced from simple dotted lines signifying nothing to readings around 2,612 feet, back to nothing then to 3,346 feet and so on for hours. The "Tongue of the Ocean" is a deep, deep trough that runs between Andros Island to the west and the Exumas to the east. At it's deepest, it measures over 8,400 feet below the sea's surface. Nothing down there for the transducers to bounce off. Submarines and other US Navy vessels use the area to practice their moves -- we looked and looked and looked for signs of rising submarines to no avail. They must have spotted us from the watery depths below and stayed down -- guess we wowed them with our dance moves!
By the time we arrived in the Exumas, it had been about ten days since I last had land underfoot and I was itchy to stretch my legs. Bill went ashore in the Love Me Tender at Morgan's Bluff, Andros, to clear us through customs. Only the captain is allowed to leave the ship for this process. He shared a few Kalik's with the locals at Willie's Bar while waiting for the customs rep to drive over from the airport. Very efficient system, Bahamas! One stop beer and national security.
Safely across the "Tongue", we anchored off Norman's Cay, a familiar stop from last winter. Tender launched, we motored up to the beach, anticipating a long walk and a tasty lunch. As we got closer to shore, I moved to the front of the Love Me Tender, prepared to step into the water and hold her steady until Bill could raise the motor and get out to tie her up to a nearby tree. So, I perch on the bow, watching the water get more and more shallow -- I can see individual grains of sand and tiny bits of coral quite clearly. I wait and wait and then put my feet over the bow and into the cool water. We are just about two feet from the shore. Instead of asking Bill for a DBK reading, I use my own judgment. There appears to be about 8 inches of water, so I begin to slide over only to find no purchase below! There is no stopping my downward momentum now, however, and I am immediately up to my waist in salt water! It's cold! And I'm soaked and there is no option but to walk the short distance to McDuff's, the restaurant, wet from the waist down, ask for a table and air dry. Luckily for me, this is the kind of dive where no one would notice, or comment on, one's state of deshabillement.
After a mediocre lunch of burger and fries (not found on the menu of Let's Dance), we walked across the airstrip to the other side of the island where a failed landing attempt in the drug smuggling days of the 70's left a rather large airplane in the middle of the bay. Not a pretty sight. With my shorts now dry, we ambled back to the Love Me Tender to find her high and dry as well. The tide has receded, and she is hard aground! We can't lift her so the only option is to wait for the tide to return enough to get her afloat.
This day, and every day, there are lessons to be learned and laughter to be shared.
Let's Dance.....Carol and Bill
