Almost there! After 10 days en route, we spent our last night on the Great Bahama Bank before crossing the Gulf Stream and entering US waters. Tiny Isaac Island provided the comfort of a lee anchorage for our final night at sea. It is a deserted atoll at the western edge of the shallow bank where it gives way to the much deeper Atlantic Ocean. There is a lighthouse on the rocky point, with a scattering of little pink houses abandoned by long forgotten lighthouse keepers. Weathered and roofless, the stucco cottages and out-buildings stand silent sentinel around the old warning light.
We arrived before dusk and were rewarded with another golden sunset while we had cocktails on the flybridge. Calm waters and light winds made the last day at anchor very soothing. Now back in satellite TV range, we watched a little news and Jeopardy, played a few hands of gin, turned in early. About 0500 hours, I woke up and checked out the stars. Yep! Still there and still spectacular. Wish we could install a skylight in the master stateroom. Bill was already awake and we made our way up to the deck, turning out the anchor light on the way. Wow! No people, no lights, no sounds except waves lapping onto shore and against the sides of the boat. Just stars, just beautiful.
Morning call came early. The big crossing ahead, we are alert and eager, prepped and ready. First chore...anchor up. We had out over 250 feet of chain since we had anchored in deep water, so the coming up was slower than usual. The Captain raised about 50 feet, where the friendly snubber was attached, when he called out to me to come forward and check out something. Curious, I did, and discovered that an unfortunate amberjack was hanging off the snubber line, hooked and twisted around the anchor chain. Oh, dear! He apparently fell victim to the lure that Bill left out the night before and got hung up in the anchor rode. Poor guy -- he was freed and left to the deep. Anchoring up completed, we were underway at 0650 hours.
We are flying! Over 10 knots through the Gulf Stream with seas calm enough that Bill chooses to polish some of the stainless railings on the foredeck while we motor on. At 46 miles into the journey we are greeted by a pair of bottlenose dolphins -- there to lead us home. As we watch from the bow pulpit they dive and cavort in over 3,000 feet of water. Quite a change from the meager 10 feet that the TCI dolphins had for their acrobatics! At 49 miles into the trip it's "Florida, ho!" The Palm Beach skyline is distant, but discernible and the conclusion of the winter of 2012 voyage is almost upon us.
With only a few hours left of the passage to and from the Turks & Caicos, it is time to reflect on the 2012 TWL's (Things We've Learned). First, we learned that it is possible for a retired stockbroker to squeeze into an amazingly small space to repair the stabilizers that keep us upright and happy, perform numerous oil and filter changes on both engines and the generator, pound the stripper arm on the windlass into submission and maintain his sense of humor in the face of it all.
We also learned that I, retired from multiple careers, can also squeeze into an amazingly small space to repair the stabilizers, prepare an edible meal for two while braced against the Sub Zero in the galley in 7 foot seas, and survive for over 90 days in captivity (often maintaining my sense of humor) with the irrepressible Captain Bill.
So, after about 71 nights at anchor, 10 nights in marinas, 2,600 nautical miles and countless pages written and read, we are home. Future voyages are still in the early planning stages, but, as the world is now our oyster, the possibilities are vast. For now, thanks for sharing in the fun and foibles aboard
Let's Dance....Carol and Bill
