This and That

We’ve made some fine discoveries along the way. Here are a few snippets for you to enjoy:
Crab Cay -- The beaches on this almost deserted little cay are quite literally “littered” with sea biscuits. These puffy little creatures are dark brown when alive, and when departed, they pale to beige and white. Their tops are covered in a pattern like a starfish. Some are chunky, some fragile, all are amazing examples of nature at its most wonderful. Several will make their lasting home on Daufuskie Island. Shhhh…

  

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Spoil Cay -- Baker’s Bay on Great Guana Cay was once dredged so that cruise ships could enter the harbor. No doubt it was a grand idea at the time, but the ships never came and the sea floor that was disrupted was piled high to create the new “Spoil Cay.” Years later, the spoils have become home to myriads of small shells, conch and coral. A manmade wonder.

Fishing -- So far we’ve caught mahi mahi, mackerel, wahoo and a lone barracuda. We are getting pretty adept as we practice for the really big catch. When a fish is on the line (zing!) I take the helm and the Captain rushes to the cockpit in the back. I slow us down to a crawl as he begins to reel the unlucky fellow in. Then I come back to the cockpit, reel in the other line, unsheathe the gaff and assist in the takedown. It can get really rolly when we’re not moving forward, so we take special care not to fall into the ocean. So far, so good, and the fish have been tasty, too.

Green Turtle Marina -- We were docked here for two days, just being lazy. A 60 foot cruiser docked in the slip next to us with three couples on board. As one woman in the group alit, she dropped her credit cards and driver’s license into the water. Ouch! Everyone on the dock peered into the depths below their hull, but nothing could be clearly seen. Unconcerned, they all went to lunch and Captain Bill sprang into action. He pulled out the hookah, attached it to a tank of air, donned his wetsuit top, and in he went. Minutes later he came to the surface brandishing the credit cards. Yeah, Captain Bill! The driver’s license was later found to have settled in the door frame of the boat -- not underwater at all. For his efforts, Bill was rewarded by the clumsy lady with a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies. Not a bad day’s work!

New Friends -- One of the most rewarding experiences of our travels is the people we meet along the way. Lola, an eighty-something local on Man O War, pedals her homemade bread from her golf cart. We’ve made the acquaintance of firemen, lawyers, CEO’s, lobstermen, restaurant and bar owners, career navy men, taxi drivers, chefs and even a TV host. Some have invited us to their boats or homes for dinner or a drink, some have shared stories of their glory days, some have asked us to visit if we cross their paths in the future. We’ve even met up with folks that we encountered last summer on our Maine odyssey…therefore, we’ve decided it is smart to be on our best behavior at all times.

Slow Dancing -- With our newly installed AIS transceiver, we are now visible on radar to other boats that
have the same system -- mostly large yachts and commercial vessels. Boats are identified by name, type and length of vessel, destination, etc. Since we can’t see ourselves, one day Bill radioed a nearby motor yacht, “Platinum”, to see if they could see us on their radar. They came back laughing that, in fact, they were dancing to our tune. Nice to know we can make people smile!

Mango Creeks -- Jimmy Buffett has a song titled “The Last Mango in Paris” which apparently got stuck in Bill’s head as he now consistently calls the mangrove swamps so prevalent here, mango swamps. We’ve led the Love Me Tender through miles of these serene waterways and it’s always a treat for the senses.

Sailboat Magnet -- It really never fails. There is a beautiful, spacious, open anchorage. It is late afternoon, nearing the cocktail hour. There is no other boat in the area. We anchor. We relax. We breathe in the calming sea air. Ahhh. Then, for no reason we can fathom, a sailboat, or two or three, enter our anchorage, get as close to us as they can, and drop their anchors. We are pretty cute, admittedly, but really, whatever happened to privacy? There is a huge ocean out there, friends. Use it!

Barefoot Man -- In the 80’s, we were blessed to have a family vacation home in the Cayman Islands. One of the must-do activities at that time was a jaunt into town to hear the Barefoot Man perform at the Holiday Inn. Now, too many years later to count, we learn that he is still out there, still singing his heart out for the tourists, and that he has gone global. He will appear at Nippers’s, a Great Guana Cay legendary hangout, next week on the tail end of his current “world tour.” We could go to see him, but why ruin a perfectly good memory? A few weeks ago we enjoyed the locally famous “Pig Roast” with Kalik beer at Nipper’s with friends. Here are some of Bill’s newest friends on the Nipper's beach. Can you spot him in the picture?

Starfish Galaxy -- Crab Cay and Fiddle Cay -- These two neighboring cays are home to the most wonderful array of marine echinoderms that we have ever seen. (Okay, I looked that up -- they include starfish, sea urchins and sea biscuits.) We travel the short distance from Let’s Dance to the shore in the Love Me Tender and just looking over the sides you can’t miss the abundance of starfish on the sea floor. They range in color from deep red to orange to a golden yellow and they are huge! After anchoring the dinghy on the sandy beach, we walk in the shallow surf and I can’t help but pick up one of these brittle guys for a closer look. He doesn’t seem to mind my touch, although how would one know? After the photo op, I return him to the safety of his watery home.

There is more, of course, including (Love Me) tender moments, to share, but for now, we’re content to let you get back to reality…..

Let’s Dance….Carol & Bill

Man O War Cay

Five days and almost 100 nautical miles farther north since last we wrote, we find ourselves in the small harbor of Man O War Cay in the Abacos.  We picked up a mooring ball for Let’s Dance just a few hundred feet from the fuel dock of the local marina.  There will be exploring tomorrow, but for today we just conclude our standard arrival check list and prepare for another Bahamian sunset.  All systems turned off and mooring lines secured, Captain Bill turns on the generator to re-charge our batteries.  The generator splutters, gags and then shuts down with a loud thunk.  Hmmmm…..this is not part of the standard arrival procedure.  Not at all.

We study the guide books and chart information to learn that one of the best mechanics in the entire Abacos works out of this harbor.  This is great news!  He can come over to the boat, analyze the problem, solve it, and we’ll be set to leave in a day or so at our leisure.  Next morning, the captain goes ashore to check it out to learn that indeed, there is a great mechanic, but he is off island and may return in a day or two.  Okay, we can wait, but we can’t stay on the mooring, because without the generator we will soon run out of power since the engine isn’t running to charge the battery bank.  (Too much information? Sorry.)  The marina has room for us and they supply power, water, showers and camaraderie, we learn.  As we attempt to snuggle up to the dock, several nice men come over to take our lines and help us tie up.  This is a good thing because my throwing arm is way out of shape and even tossing a line the few remaining feet to the dock is a challenge.   After successfully throwing the spring line into the water, twice, I manage to lob it onto the dock and we are secured.  Neil and Peter, our helpers, laugh with us (at us?) and confirm that as a boater, when you are docking you are “the entertainment” for those already secured.  We could go national! 

Docked at the marina, we have a front row seat to the activity in the harbor.  There is a continuous ebb and flow of commercial and recreational traffic.  Small passenger ferries bring tourists from Marsh Harbor.  Rental sailboats and cats steam in and out at regular intervals.  A long, steel gray barge, probably a WWII relic, arrives daily to bring supplies and fuel.  It is a noisy, chaotic, irreverent little harbor and we are loving the show.  Then, we notice a rather rundown sport fishing boat, with some of its windows boarded up, approaching the fuel dock right in front of us.  It is named “Hideout” and it sounds like a good tune-up is in order.  Something is odd here, though.  The captain, up on the fly bridge,  has on fatigues and a helmet; the crew carry shot guns.  Whoa!  What is this about?

As we watch in wonder, and just a tiny hint of concern, one of the crew retrieves a red, rolling suitcase from the interior cabin.  Drugs?  No, we soon learn, money!  While the captain remains at the helm, keeping the rundown boat at the dock, the two crew members alight with the suitcase and the shot guns and head up the dock towards town, checking closely for any unwanted advances.  They return, sans suitcase, about fifteen minutes later, drop completed.  Very interesting.   About three hours later, Hideout returns noisily, crew with guns are discharged and return with the mysterious red suitcase -- now presumably filled with deposits.

Peter and Neil, our helpful dock hands, both have boats stationed at the marina.  Neil and his wife are from Hungry Horse, MT (not widely known as a boating mecca), while Peter and Diane are from Hull, MA.  The Windemere, Peter’s boat, is a real life lobster boat, complete with winches and hoses and an open cockpit, that they  brought down for a few months of sun in the Bahamas.  There was a real feel of community at the marina and we soon knew almost everyone there.  One day, fifteen of us were invited aboard the Windemere and ferried over to Marsh Harbor for lunch.   It was Fajita Friday at the Jib Room, after all.

Many of the people that we’ve met along the journey spend days, even weeks, at marinas.  At Man O War Marina, some had been there for months.  Our style is much more peripatetic -- we like to move every two or three days…just because we can.  And so, generator malfunction righted (it was, once again,  a simple case of operator error) we are off to the next adventure.   Two months into the dance, the Captain and I are still communicating, and this is a good thing.  Fresh fish for dinner tonight aboard

Let’s Dance…….Carol & Bill

One Fish, Two Fish

Okay, you’re going to have to work with me a little bit here.  I am incapable of putting words to the amazing experience we had the other day, so here’s what I need for you to do.  Imagine yourself aboard Let’s Dance…it’s early morning, the sky is clear, but not yet showing the strength of color that will come later.  We’re still anchored, preparing the boat for departure.  The sea is flat.  Not a wrinkle, not a wave, not a hint of movement.  Follow me up the stairs from the saloon to the pilothouse.  Now, let’s step outside  onto the starboard deck and look down over the railing.  You are about 8 feet above the water line here.  Another twelve feet below is the bottom….white sand littered with giant, black starfish.  They are scattered in an abstract pattern that is broken only by the occasional sea urchin and stray bit of coral.

The anchor chain hangs off the bow, falling straight down into the calm water. As it reaches the bottom, it snakes outward in a sinewy line.  Let’s Dance has shifted through the night in the light current and the chain has left a distinct pattern in the sand as it stretches towards the anchor.  It would be idyllic to stay here for hours, just watching the serenity of the sea floor, but we must head out sometime, so we prepare to pull up the anchor and move on.  I go into back into the pilothouse, put on my headset and am ready to guide Let’s Dance to the anchor as Bill directs from the bow, using the newly repaired windlass to pull it up.  Look over his shoulder as the chain is slowly pulled from the ocean floor.  One of the starfish -- directly in the chain’s path -- lifts slightly to allow the heavy chain to pass under him.  Smart fellow!

The anchor safely up and secured, Captain Bill takes over the command of Let’s Dance in the pilothouse.  Follow me upstairs to the fly bridge where I will serve as lookout for the shallow reefs that dot this area of the Bahamas.  The fly bridge is open to the fresh breezes this morning and the blue canvas cover protects me from sun.  Bill has plotted our course carefully, but there are still areas to be wary of, so we’re going to use visual piloting as well as our charts.  To better my vantage point, I stand on the captain’s chair. Communicating with Bill through our handy headsets, I am able to direct him between the maze of small reefs that line our path.

This is where it gets fun.  Imagine now that you are on the water, sliding along beside Let’s Dance. Perhaps you have on your dive mask, swimming goggles will work as well, whatever’s comfortable.  It’s twenty feet down to the ocean surface from up here, but I might as well be on the glassy surface, too.   Spotting a dark area ahead, I direct Bill 15 degrees to starboard and we glide slowly by the first of the reefs.  It is small, maybe 30 yards across, almost circular, and filled with various corals.  Sea fans, stag horn, brain and others, intermingled, some waving up at us, others solidly attached to the sea floor.  They shelter a myriad of sea creatures between and under their branches.

If you look closely you can see that the rainbow is well represented here -- fish of almost every hue dart in and out of the coral corral.  You’ve probably seen them before -- at aquariums or in person…little fish, big fish, needle fish, grunts, butterfly fish, red fish, blue fish…..all represented in healthy numbers.  High speed predators are here with us, too.  As the shadow of Let’s Dance skims over the scene below, a few sharks, maybe a barracuda even, dash out towards the docile reef fish, hungry for a little snack.  Not to worry, though, you’re floating on top and they aren’t interested in you today.

This scene repeats itself many times this morning until we’ve finally cleared the shallows and I’ve come down from the fly bridge to be with Captain Bill in the pilothouse.  You can come up now, too, and dry off.  We’ll have lunch soon as we’re underway.  Gazpacho, perhaps.  Our destination is Spanish Wells in Eleuthera as we leave the Exumas in the rearview mirror.  Goodbye, Exumas!  See you next year.

Thanks for coming along on the boat today -- I had fun taking you on the little tour and mixing my metaphors -- enjoy the rest of your day, and remember, you’re always welcome aboard

Let’s Dance…..Carol and Bill

Lorraine's Place

Greetings from the saloon of Let’s Dance.  The famous pigs of Big Major’s Spot could not be bothered to swim out to meet us after our town excursion to Staniel Cay.  In fact, only one of them even ventured up from his shady siesta to give us the once over, and he apparently didn’t  want to get his hoofs wet.  Glad I didn’t save any scones for him!  All was not lost, however, for as we watched the sun setting from the fly bridge (our nightly ritual with cocktails and snacks in hand)  we saw our second ‘green flash’.  This is big in these parts, and neighboring boats tooted horns and  blew conch shell salutes to mother nature.  It was cool!

The guide book description of Staniel Cay would have you believe that there actually was a town, when in fact, a few scattered, colorful houses, a church, small government office and Batelco (Bahamas Telephone Company) office were it.  At the little market we found, much to our delight, fresh grapes, apples and a few other treats.  Then we checked out the yellow, blue and pink houses…all noted in the guides.  At the yellow house, we met a wonderful woman whose specialty is coconut bread.  “Treat it like a baby”, she crooned as she handed me a warm loaf from her kitchen table.   We can highly recommend French toast made with coconut bread -- it is a taste treat straight from heaven! 

Leaving Staniel, we inched north to Sampson’s Cay -- a polar opposite of Staniel and most of the other islands we’ve seen so far.  It has a small, private resort on it, with a restaurant, store and marina that is said to be one of the safest in the Exumas in heavy weather.  The buildings are made of stacked stone with pale green trim and gabled roofs.  Snappily dressed staff, Jimmy Buffett music and pet sharks in the dinghy dock area complete the package that can be yours for $8,000 a week in season.  We got it for the price of lunch.

Black Point Settlement on Great Guana Cay gets a lot of good press in the guide books as well.  Lorraine’s Café, in particular, is written up as a must do experience.  Here’s our take…….we dinghy in to the Government Dock and tie up with no problem.  A short walk up the pier we find two guys just hanging out in front of the “Government Building”, a 20 foot square stucco structure with peeling paint and sagging shutters.  Bill asks them if there is a place open for lunch (it is Sunday) and they reply that Lorraine will probably be cooking at her place after church.  Aha!  This is good, we think, but it’s already past noon, when is church over? They have no idea.

We walk in the direction they have indicated, and easily find Lorraine’s -- a couple from another boat and their dog are sitting under a tree in front, busy at their computers.  A quick glance inside reveals that the place is empty, however, so we wander further down the road.  Blue trash bins line the road at about 50 yard intervals, and all are full or close to full, and still garbage lies along the road and in the yards of the small homes that line it.  What a shame.  There are few people out -- still at church, we guess, so we wander back to Lorraine’s.  This time we discover that there is a back room where other boaters are congregated using their computers.  One has a key to the cooler out front that he offers to unlock if we’d like something cool to drink.  Lorraine left it with him.  I have a water and peruse the overstuffed shelves of the lending library that makes up one side of the tiny restaurant.  Bill finds a magazine and we settle down to wait for the place to open.

Finally, Lorraine herself comes in, dressed to the nines in her Sunday best, to tell those of us waiting (about 10 now) that she will be back in a bit after she changes clothes.  It’s now about 2 pm and hunger is setting in for real.  Lorraine leaves and the clock continues ticking.  One couple finally gives up, saying they are off to find a restaurant that is actually open.  Where’s the adventure in that?  We wait, meet a nice couple from Arizona, check email, wait, get a beer, wait.  At last, Lorraine returns in jeans and a t-shirt, ready to cook up her much touted grilled snapper sandwich.  We wait.  She serves us, at last, after three in the afternoon, what Captain Bill describes as an ‘adequate’ meal.  I would not be that generous.

We did meet some nice people, however, who invited us to their sailboat for drinks that evening.  The next morning we made new friends as we motored back north to a place called Shroud Cay -- a southbound Nordhavn hailed us and we traded tales for a bit.  Further north, then, back to Ship Channel Cay to prepare for our next crossing.  This one only 40 miles -- the Exumas to Eleuthra.  That story next.  We leave you now for a quick trip in Love Me Tender into Spanish Wells where we hope to find gasoline for the dinghy, a hose nozzle for the outside shower and maybe some groceries.  All in a day’s work for this crew --
Let’s Dance -- Carol and Bill

It Was Inevitable !

Yes, all you vicarious thrill seekers, it finally happened.  We ran aground.  And we did it up right!  We really dug into a shallow, sandy spot off the northern end of  Bell Island in the Exumas.  For the prior two days we had been anchored in another area of the Exuma Land and Sea Park (more on that later) but decided to move south for a different perspective.  So, after about two hours underway, in strong winds and cloudy skies, Let’s Dance missed a step and Bam!  All of a sudden we’re not moving and the engine is still pumping out rpms.  Didn’t take us too long to figure that we weren’t going to get out of this easily.  Luckily for us, we were still within the Park, and where there is a Park, there are Park Rangers.

A few hours later, we are approached by a 24 foot, open cockpit boat with twin 150 outboard motors.  Rangers to the rescue!  We hope!  Now it’s raining and the winds are picking up.  This is not helping the situation, but all are enthusiastic, if a bit daunted.  Can 300 horsepower dislodge 85,000 pounds of sand encrusted trawler?  Captain Bill throws a line to the rangers which they cleat to their stern.  The line goes taut -- they rev, we rev, the line snaps loose.  So much for the first try!  And the second, and the third.  Each time, as the park boat guns their engines, they lurch at crazy angles -- and we do nothing.  Finally, after about 10 attempts, they agree to give it one more go, against their better judgment, I think.  It works (yeah!) and at last, after 3 hours, we are freed from the sand.  Lesson Learned: Go Slow!

There have been lighter moments, too.  Before the park adventures, we over-nighted in several beautiful spots -- Highbourne Cay, for example.  From there it’s an easy ride in Love Me Tender to Allen’s Cay, home of the endangered Exuma iguana.  These scaly creatures hang out on a tiny bit of beach, alert and aligned in rows, waiting for the next tourist to stop by.  You’re not supposed to feed them but you can tell by their aggressive posturing that the rules are often broken.  I picked up a small bit of white trash on the beach and, thinking I had something for them to eat, several rushed forward towards me.  Yikes!  Quickly back into the dinghy --- let’s move on.

Also at Highbourne, we discovered that a small school of sharks (remorrah, we think) lived under our shadow.  Bill threw out an apple core, and they swarmed after it, twisting and fighting to be first in line, only to discover that they weren’t into fruit.  This is tempting……what would they prefer?   Hmmm….I ‘m not much of a cook, but with the help of my new, spiffy bread maker, I had made scones a few days before.  Actually, they turned out to be small boulders that tasted exactly like flour and water. Oh, well.  I broke one in half and threw it overboard to see if the sharks would chase it and, guess what?  They loved it!  Not only did the boys fight over the pastry, they devoured it.  Six sharks fighting over my home cooking -- maybe they should go to culinary school!

Our next learning experience came the following morning as we began raising the anchor.  I’m at my usual station in the pilothouse, Bill’s at the bow, when Crunch!  Sounds of metal on metal and then nothing.  We’re going nowhere today.  Bill gets down and dirty in the anchor locker where he discovers that the motor for the windlass has come unbolted and fallen, taking out the electrical connection along the way. Oh boy, this is just great.  What do we know about this?  After assessing the situation and collecting a large amount of grease, oil and mud on himself and his clothes,  Bill calls James Knight in Florida.  James is the Nordhavn mechanical guru and he is able to talk Bill through the needed repairs.  Thirteen phone calls and 24 hours later, we are up and running.  Lesson Learned:  Pre-paid cell phone is a must. (We were fortunate that this happened while we were in a covered area.)

Other adventures, of a more benign nature, include snorkeling at the Sea Aquarium off O’Brien’s Cay.  Captain Bill donned his wetsuit, fins et al and jumped right into a veritable battalion of Sgt.  Major fish.  He reported that there were thousands of them, all curious and all trying for a closer look.  Turning in any direction he found hundreds staring back at him from only a few inches away.  That would have freaked me out!  Today we are anchored off an island with the curious name of Big Major’s Spot.  Its claim to fame is the beach where a pair of pigs (yes, pigs) will swim out to your dinghy for snacks.  We’re headed into lunch at the Staniel Cay Club first, hoping to send this blog, before checking out the pigs.  Too bad I ran out of scones!

Until next time……

Let’s Dance -- Carol & Bill

The Hard Way

Buenos dias from South Beach!  We are currently floating around south Florida as we wait for perfect conditions to cross over to the Bahamas.  We approached Governor's Cut, the entrance into our desired anchorage in Miami, around 5 pm last Saturday evening.  Always cautious when entering a new area, we hovered off shore for a few minutes to re-check the charts before venturing in.  That's when we noticed that a red, white and blue portion of the city was moving slowly towards us out the channel.  Behind it a steel gray and white condominium with smokestacks moved into view.  What on earth?  We held back to consider our options, then realized that these massive structures were in fact cruise ships setting off on their weekly voyages.  One hour and seven cruise ships later, we entered the cut and made our way into the anchorage off Belle Island.

Prior to our day trip south to Miami, Let's Dance was subjected to almost two weeks of rigorous preparations at the hands of a slew of technicians and mechanics in Palm Beach Gardens.  First, she was hauled out of her watery home by a 100 ton lift crane and placed "on the hard."  (That's boat speak for on land.)  Then her bottom was scraped and painted -- now a debonair black to replace her prior sporty aqua -- her sides buffed and compounded, her railings polished and her zincs refreshed.  Zincs are interesting -- basically the nautical equivalent of the canary in the coal mine.  They are made of, well, zinc, and they are attached to underwater metal fittings that would otherwise be easily corroded by sea water.  The zincs are sacrificed to save the fittings and are replaced as they are eaten away by the sea.  A win-win for all but the zincs!

While we wait for winds and currents to align properly for "the crossing", we've taken advantage of some of the local color.  We took the Love Me Tender, also newly rigged with working nav lights for night travel, to a nearby marina. There was a manatee close in to the dock, just lolling about looking cute.  After a wonderful lunch at Joe's Stone Crab restaurant, we headed back to the dock to find a school of tarpon in the manatee's place.  Not nearly as fetching, but equally intriguing this close to shore.

Captain Bill and I are ready for the next adventure and feel confident that our equipment is top notch and up to the task.  I mentioned last summer that AIS was our new best friend, but I've re-thought that -- AIS Class B transciever now tops that list.  Now we send out a signal and anyone within 10 miles of Let's Dance can see us on their radar and know exactly who we are and where we're going.  Can they tell we're dancing?  For now it's salsa, but will soon turn to reggae...... Let's Dance  Carol and Bill

A Shore Thing

Greetings and Happy New Year from Daufuskie Island, SC!  Captain Bill and I are preparing for the next step of our Let’s Dance journey - - this time south to the Bahamas!  October found us back on land after a five month odyssey that we’ll never forget.  Fall was a blur of holidays and celebrations with family and friends, all too short, but welcome nevertheless.

 Since the first of the year, we’ve been as fiendishly busy as elves with a deadline to provision the boat for the upcoming jaunt.  While we understand that the Bahamas are not a retail wasteland, we want to have as many of the basics covered before leaving Florida as possible.  You’ve never seen so many lists – inventories of parts, filters, canned goods, fuses, spices, ink cartridges and even toilet paper.  (The previous owner left many, many rolls of TP onboard, and while we didn’t count at the beginning of last summer’s voyage to Maine and back, we discovered upon our return that we had 39 rolls left!)

After numerous trips with supplies, Let’s Dance was finally prepped and ready to head south.  First Officer Rick Cohen and newly enlisted Medical Officer Dr. Bernie Mansheim joined Captain Bill for the non-stop run to West Palm Beach last week.  Forty-eight hours of smooth as glass seas led to eight hours of continuous pounding by 5 to 6 foot waves.  Some rockin’ and rollin’ for sure, but Captain and crew were all smiles upon their arrival in port.  I stayed behind to wrap up loose ends here and will join Bill next week.

Now comes the fun part – a volley of routine maintenance to get Let’s Dance in prime form – new paint for her bottom, snappy covers for the Love Me Tender and forward hatches, and yet more provisions bought and stowed.  Then it’s off we go to parts south.  Our plan takes us across 60 miles of Atlantic Ocean to Bimini, then south to the Exumas.  From there we will work our way north to the Abacos and then back to the US – perhaps to Florida or directly to South Carolina.  We’ll go with the flow…

We’re excited about exploring new venues – Bill has SCUBA gear on board and I have a raft and girly pink snorkel to watch from the ocean surface.  Sun block, hats, fishing rods, blender – we’re good to go.  So ‘til then….

Let’s Dance…Carol & Bill