Bahamas or Bust

Story by Roy Albert • Painting by Joseph Buchanan

The doctor’s grim expression told me all I needed to know; the cancer was back. After a hopeful year of no apparent activity, it had not only returned, but it had metastasized from the colon to the lungs, liver, and bones.

“I guess the trip is off,” my wife, Ginny, said through tears on the way home from the hospital.

I thought for a moment. “No! This confirms the trip.”

Our plan was to sail our ‘89 Precision 21-foot shoal-draft cruiser from the marina in Stuart, Florida, down the Intracoastal Waterway about 100 nm to Miami. From there we’d make the roughly 45 nm ocean crossing to Bimini, which would be our jumping-off point for the Berry Islands.

Now that we’d made the decision to go, Ginny jumped right in and invited our good friend Rudy to join us. Rudy has his 200 ton sailing captain’s license, so it would be reassuring to have him along.

It was time to prepare the boat. My first concern was the four-horsepower, four-stroke Nissan outboard that was showing signs of neglect. I replaced the damaged water pump and followed up with a complete service. I discovered Nissan offered an optional 60-watt alternator that was easy to install.

To conserve battery power I replaced the incandescent cabin, stern and masthead light bulbs with LEDs. I also installed a compass in the cabin bulkhead.

I mounted the Porta-Potti securely after replacing its failed pump.

The sink pump barely worked. An inspection showed the hose in the water tank was bent nearly in two. A 90 degree fitting fixed that problem.

It looked like the boat’s alcohol stove had never been used, and I had never used one. Half expecting to be engulfed in flames, I carefully lit it and was pleased to see it worked perfectly.

While I worked on the boat, Ginny acted as my supply officer. She planned meals, bought food, water, batteries, a spare cooler, and paper products. Being a nurse, she also made up a great first aid kit. She did such a good job the only thing we had to buy during our trip was ice.

Saturday April 26, 2014 was our scheduled day of departure from Riverwatch Marina in Stuart.

We wanted a radio more powerful than my handheld. Our friend Dave brought two down to the marina but neither worked, so Rudy and Dave ran out and bought a new one.

By 5 p.m. we were underway. We made only as far as St. Lucie Inlet Park, where we stopped to eat, then decided to spend the night. It was hot and sticky, and the mosquitoes and no-see-ums seemed to take particular pleasure in tormenting us. Even though we were on the Intracoastal, we could hear the surf pounding on the other side of the barrier island.

We woke up to a summer-like morning with the bugs biting, so we quickly hoisted the anchor and motored south. Rudy and I had only sailed together twice. So as we motored on we began developing routines we would follow. We moved a few things around to make them more secure and convenient. We were happy to discover our individual ways were very compatible, so things went smoothly.

I had only two complaints worth mentioning. In south Florida the Intracoastal has too many drawbridges! From Stuart to Miami we counted 35! A few would open on demand, but most would open on the hour and then every fifteen minutes later. It was common for us to wait twenty minutes or more in the current trying to navigate around all the other boats, waiting for the bridge to open. The wait started grinding at us.

My second complaint is that the power inverter was too small to operate the coffee maker. I know this seems minor, but I damn sure missed that morning coffee.

The next day we awoke at the fuel dock we had tied off to overnight. We were greeted by a very pleasant attendant who opened the office, gave us coffee, and fueled us up.

The water was taking on that Caribbean green hue when we arrived in Biscayne Bay, and we knew tomorrow we would begin our crossing. We bought a spare gas can, gasoline, and ice.

As we motored through Miami Harbor, all I could see were cruise and container ships; this was the first time my boat felt really small. That night we anchored off the southern end of the harbor.

Tuesday,April 29 we sailed out of Government Cut with winds ESE 12-15 and 3 to 5 foot seas. To make way we turned south to Fowey Rocks for the first 15 miles across. After that the winds slowed to 5-10 and the seas calmed to 1 to 3 feet, but the Gulf Stream was pulling us north very quickly. At about midpoint I was exhausted and gave Rudy the helm, then went below for a nap. I tried to sleep but the boat was rolling so much I had to hold on to the shelves to keep from being rolled onto the deck.

When night fell I discovered the bulkhead compass I’d mounted was backlit and very hard to read, so we strictly used the GPS. We reached Bimini on Wednesday at about 2 a.m. and anchored off the west end of the island. In the morning we raised the quarantine flag and motored into Brown’s Marina. Humphrey, the dock master, guided us into our slip. He spoke with a thick accent, so we had to listen very carefully to understand what he was saying. He was extremely pleasant and helpful. He brought out all the forms we needed to clear customs and sign in to the marina.

The first stop was the immigration office located at the police station, a mile walk at the other end of the island. The immigration officer stamped the forms and gave me directions to the customs office. This was located in the Bimini Big Game Club. The custom officials stamped the passports—we were legal! I walked back to the boat, dropped the quarantine flag and raised the Bahamas courtesy flag. Back at the marina, Rudy contacted everyone to let them know we’d made it. We then took the first showers we had since we left.

The next day we sailed out and snorkeled around a wreck called the Sapona, a concrete cargo ship that ran aground in 1926 and was used for target practice during WWII. Underwater it was covered with coral. Stunningly colorful tropical fish and stingrays were everywhere. Two exposed propeller blades were also covered with coral. That was a great snorkel; we headed back with light winds and good seas.

We sailed on the outside to Gun Cay. The seas were about three feet and the water was unbelievably clear and blue. We noticed the jib was losing threads so we rolled it in and continued on the mainsail. After anchoring, we discovered the Sunbrella was coming loose on the jib, but the jib was in good shape. We anchored far enough off shore that there were no bugs. We opened up the cabin and had the most comfortable night so far.

We woke up early, ate, cleaned up a little and then took the sail out of the roller furling. Rudy started sewing on the sail, which is harder than it looks.

Rudy suggested that this was a good place to snorkel with the stingrays. So I jumped in and let the tide carry me along the island. The stingrays were curious and brushed up against me a few times. I was able to pet them. I decided to take a walk on the island. After swimming to shore, I had to walk carefully onto the beach because I was wearing light deck shoes; the rocks were sharp and the plants were thorny. The shoreline was quickly filling up with people partying and enjoying the beach.

Early the next morning, we put the sail in the roller furler, raised anchor, and headed sixty nautical miles away for the North West passage, and then on to Chub Cay. Unfortunately the shallows on the Bahama Banks were like being in a washing machine. We tacked for five hours and gained only three miles. Rudy was reaching over the tiller when the boat pitched heavily; then came a load pop. The tiller had delaminated. We could still steer but the rudder would only move vertically about six inches. We also noticed the aft stay bridle had broken a couple of wires so we turned back and anchored off Cat Cay.

I repaired the tiller and determined to keep a close eye on the bridle. If any more strands broke we would lower all sail and motor back. In the morning we sailed back to Bimini with favorable winds and nice seas.

We left Bimini for the final time hoping to cross in about 12 hours. The weather was pleasant with winds ENE at about five knots and seas one to two feet, so we motor-sailed. Around 11 o’clock we steered around a freighter. We sighted land around 1 o’clock and had to make a decision. Not wanting to wait through 35 drawbridges over two days in the Intracoastal, we decided to head north toward the Stuart inlet. We arrived at 1:30 in the morning.

Without the moon to light our way, we couldn’t see the waves, which had increased during the evening. Rolling in the jib was easy, but even with the lazy jack lowering the mainsail was tricky.

Rudy was at the tiller and he really saved the day. I was on the spotlight trying to find the channel markers. Rudy spotted each one before I did. This was the first time we’d used this narrow inlet with its strong tidal currents, and I was nervous, expecting to hit bottom at any moment. But the next thing I knew we were on the Intracoastal. We anchored off the same park we had our first night out.

Motoring back into Riverwatch Marina brought the sad realization the trip was over. Ginny, my wife, who was so helpful and supportive, had wanted to come along, but with her severe respiratory issues couldn’t physically do it. And how can you thank friends like Dave and Laraine who drove a long way to help with everything? I remember thinking that by the end of this trip, Rudy and I would either be best friends or worst enemies. We are still best friends. •SCA•

James Leroy (Roy) Albert was born in Pennsylvania. He was a pilot, certified aircraft & motorcycle mechanic, and cave diver. Roy’s special love was for PBY amphibious aircraft and anything to do with the water. Roy and Ginny were married on an island beach in Crystal River, Florida.

First appeared in issue #93