Who Can Predict the Future?

November 10, Prior Lake, MN
The future can be a little tricky to predict. It must have happened to you, too. You make a definite plan. Four months from now, this is where you will be…for sure. No doubt. And then life gets in the way.

For those of you who checked this blog in October, I apologize for the delay in letting you know that we won’t be sailing again until October of 2009. We did have every intention of returning to the boat this October and casting off on another cruising adventure. But long before the economy took a precipitous vertical drop, certain things were pending, we had projects we couldn’t complete on time, and it seemed that we should take a year off. I'm so sorry we won’t be able to take you along on a voyage to far-flung islands this year.

We did take a trip out east to visit Pelican in August, and she was in great shape underneath a protective coat of shrink wrap. On the way we visited Claus and Rachael in Wrightsville Beach, NC, where Kyanna was recovering from a direct lightning strike.

Back here in Minnesota, we’ve already experienced our first snowfall of the season, slightly earlier than average. We’ll do our best to enjoy a wind-whipped, snow-swept winter. And we wish you a wonderful year wherever it takes you. See you in 2009!

“How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone. What you ought to say is, ‘If the Lord wants us to, we will live and do this or that’” (James 4:14-15).

It's Worth Repeating

May 10-23, Deltaville, VA
When we left on this voyage, our plan was to return to Lake Superior in June. But we did say, “Maybe…just maybe…we’ll leave the boat on the Chesapeake for the summer and return to The Bahamas in the fall.”

Let’s see…a brutal winter in Minnesota confined indoors or a balmy winter in the sun-kissed islands of The Bahamas. The decision was more complicated than that. With a house and friends and family back home, we did have to think about it. And as we tallied up the pros and cons, somehow the appeal of balmy won out over brutal.

There are so many reasons it’s a trip worth repeating. To say it was a fun, exciting adventure doesn’t say enough. We explored new islands and places seldom visited, anchored in deserted coves, and caught our own lobster for dinner. We learned new skills, dealt with unpredictable weather, and navigated through confusing waterways. (Kudos to Keith: although we’ve grazed the bottom a couple times in 15,000 miles, we’ve never been stuck or needed a tow. Not bad for three transits of the ICW and two of The Bahamas.)

To say we enjoyed picturesque scenery doesn’t begin to describe the flight of a heron, a pod of dancing dolphins, or a powdery crescent of white sand dividing a cloudless sky and crystalline waters. There was renewal in being surrounded by breathtaking echoes of God’s nature everywhere.

To say that this trip was a gift of God’s grace doesn’t begin to express our gratitude. We’re humbled by the undeserved opportunity. And to me, it’s no small miracle that after 43 years of diabetes, I’m extraordinarily healthy and can comfortably set sail to places far from medical care.

The journey would not have been nearly as memorable without the relationships that gave a warm glow to times spent together. Welcome visits from Sean, Loren and Clairice, and Marty and Barb brought us a touch of home. New friends we met along the way added color and interest to the itinerary. Traveling with Claus and Rachael, laughing and sharing our days, doubled the joy of discovering new shores, cooking gourmet meals, and talking about the meaning of life. As for Keith and me, being partners in such a venture and living in a small space for so long has made us, well…closer. We still love being together.

On Saturday Pelican will be hauled out of the water and stored on the hard in Deltaville, Virginia. While she’s here, the damage from April 15 will be repaired. (To read an excellent account of that night on Rachael's blog, click http://kyannasails.spaces.live.com/ ; scroll down to the section titled “Pandemonium.”)
For now, this is goodbye. To all of our Minnesota friends and family, we’ll see you soon! And we invite you all to check this site in October and come along with us for the encore trip.

The Route Less Traveled

May 6-9, The Great Dismal Swamp
The other destination we had missed on our way south is Elizabeth City and the Dismal Swamp Canal. The canal had been closed then due to low water, but a spring thaw raised the level, and we were not about to let the opportunity pass us by. The route through the Dismal Swamp is an alternate to the primary ICW route. It’s not as deep or as fast, but if you have the time to appreciate its history and haunting beauty, it’s much more fascinating.

The story goes that in 1728, in order to establish the disputed boundary between North Carolina and Virginia, Colonel Byrd and a band of surveyors set off into the swamp without the benefit of Deep Woods Off...and their description stuck. In 1763 none other than George Washington directed the surveying and digging of a portion of the canal, envisioning a commercial shipping lane. Finally completed in 1805, the canal’s shallow depth limited its intended use. Hard times overshadowed brief boom times throughout its history. Today it’s a national historic landmark used by recreational boaters as a thoroughfare between Albemarle Sound and the Chesapeake Bay.

Elizabeth City, on one of the many bends of the Pasquotank River just below the Dismal Swamp, has trademarked the name “Harbor of Hospitality” and lives up to it. They practically present cruisers with a key to the city. Over time, word-of-mouth recommendations have circulated far and wide along the waterway. Free dockage is provided for 48 hours at Mariners’ Wharf, the town docks. If more than five boats tie up in the harbor, volunteers throw a wine and cheese party for them. At first, we didn’t realize that the friendly low-key guy chatting with us at the party about his experiences sailing in the Abacos was the mayor, Steve Atkinson.

Then there are the famous Rose Buddies who present each lady on board with a fresh rose clipped from the nearby gardens (the mayor is doing the honors in the picture). Founded by Fred Fearing and Joe Kramer, the Rose Buddies will celebrate their twenty-fifth anniversary this fall. As of last December, both founders have passed away, but the city and a group of volunteers are determined that the tradition will live on. After two days of “y’all come back now, hear?” hospitality, we headed into the swamp. The depth of the 22-mile-long canal is maintained by locks at the entrance and exit. Near the south end, a Visitor Center serves as a combination rest stop for highway travelers and for boaters, who raft up there overnight. It’s the only facility of its kind in the nation.

The Dismal Swamp has a wild, otherworldly splendor with an early morning mist floating over the canal and curling around low-hanging vines. Branches of cypress and gum trees reach out over the narrow channel. Breeze rustles through their leaves as amber-colored water swirls around their roots. Belying the color, the water is unusually pure; bacteria can’t grow in the infusion of tree bark tannins. Herons and geese startle and fly away when boats pass by. After the mist clears, turtles sun themselves on tangled logs. Songbirds flit from bough to bough, their delicate notes light on the air.

Most parts of the lovely Dismal Swamp are unchanged from the time of its beginning. We’ve succumbed to its many charms, and given the choice we’ll take the route less traveled.

The Inner Banks

May 4-5, Oriental, NC
The days turn chillier and we reach for long sleeves. Meanwhile, local boaters motor by shirtless or in bathing suits as their season heats up. Could our blood have thinned so quickly? After all, we have covered 718 miles since we arrived at Port Canaveral, Florida. There are only 182 miles to go until we reach the Chesapeake.

It seems that Pelican knows she’s going home to roost and she wants to flap her wings faster and faster. We need to slow her down so we can stop at a couple places we missed on the journey south.

First of these is the quaint village of Oriental, the sailing capital of North Carolina. The waterfront community sits on a very wide section of the Neuse River, on the Inner Banks. It has a population of only 850 people—and 2700 boats. Its location provides a perfect jumping-off point for short or long cruises to the north or south. The town’s existence depends on boaters, and the residents are very welcoming and helpful.

Rainy weather forecasts give us a good excuse to spend an extra night. We explore every city block on foot and by bike, the turn-of-the-century homes, cute little shops, and good restaurants. Now on to the next one....

Summer into Spring

April 30-May 3, Charleston, SC to Swansboro, NC
Charleston, that lovely southern belle of a city, welcomed us with gracious hospitality. She was decked out in a fresh new wardrobe of spring finery. Gardens and window boxes accessorized her ante-bellum homes with lush blooms. Showy blossoms adorned magnolia trees. Yellow forsythias released a heavenly perfume that filled the avenues.

On this stop, we visited the South Carolina Aquarium for the first time and loved it. Some exhibits are designed to appeal to younger audiences, but the well-done displays have something for everyone.

The seasons rotate backward as we move north, summer into spring. In our very favorite part of the ICW, the exquisitely gorgeous cypress swamps of the Waccamaw River blend bright chartreuse into a palette of greens. Salt marshes are textured with new growth and warm colors. We see families of dolphins, mama ospreys protecting their babies in nests atop navigational markers, pairs of Canadian geese leading new hatchlings across the waterway. Symbols of resurrection surround us, and we are buoyed by the promise of new life.

Homeland Security, Then and Now

April 26-29, Fernandina Beach, FL to Charleston, SC
A perfect weather window opened, and we decided to go offshore from Fernandina Beach, Florida to Charleston, South Carolina
on an overnight passage.

The beginning and the end of our voyage were both anchored by Civil War–era forts. As we exited St. Marys River on the border of Florida and Georgia, we passed Fort Clinch, its cannons aimed outward to prevent invasion by sea. And historic Fort Sumter, where the first shots of the “War of Northern Aggression” were fired on April 12, 1861, welcomed
us to Charleston harbor with its flags flying.

In between, just past Fort Clinch, we looked back and saw that we were being pursued by a far more technologically advanced weapons system. A colossal Trident nuclear submarine from Kings Bay Naval Base was gaining on us rapidly.

A Coast Guard inflatable zoomed up behind us to warn us to stay to the side of the channel. Two “coasties” manned machine guns on the bow and stern of the inflatable, never taking their hands off the triggers or their eyes off us. Their inflatable came within a few feet of us, the submarine within a few boat-lengths.

What an impressive sight! And just a bit of a change in the past 150 years in how our borders are secured.

Open-Air Amphitheater

April 22-25, Titusville-Fernandina Beach, FL
Some cruisers speak in disparaging tones referring to the Intra-Coastal Waterway as “the ditch.” Waiting for bridge openings and watching channel markers is definitely a different style of cruising than island hopping in The Bahamas, but we enjoy this part of the trip, too.

A fair amount of real estate along the winding rivers, lagoons, and land cuts is developed, but there are also beautiful wide-open spaces. Between hammocks of graceful palms and sturdy pines, marsh grasses sway. Rose-gold and spring-green savannas contrast with stands of dense and lush green jungle growth. As we travel northward, moss-laden live oaks here and there indicate progress.

We’re in an open-air amphitheater and the wildlife puts on a delightful performance for us. Aquatic birds and other wildlife abound. Pelicans glide in a ballet on the breeze, then, spotting fish, descend into the water in hilarious nosedives that are anything but graceful. Egrets stalk the shoreline in lurching staccato steps, looking for little minnows. Dolphins surface in undulating waves, displaying tail flukes and arching high above the water, then with uncanny timing they disappear at precisely the moment the camera is ready or the shutter is snapped. The manatees in Titusville Marina are less camera-shy, but may be less photogenic.

Our last stop in Florida, Fernandina Beach, has a colorful history that goes way back to 1562. In its earlier years, pirates and other rogues used it as a hideout. In more “modern” times, Victorian stores and homes were built (and have been restored) in the historic district. The flags of eight different countries have flown over the town, making it the most highly prized area in our nation. We’ll miss the big show in town—the shrimp festival is next week—but didn’t miss out on fresh-caught jumbo shrimp for dinner.

Back on Home Soil

April 18-21, Great Sale Cay to Port Canaveral, FL
I love the word “uneventful.” An occasional shot of adrenaline may have some value, but I’ll pick a smooth passage over stormy seas any day.

We enjoyed a smooth voyage from Green Turtle Cay to Great Sale Cay out on the middle of the Little Bahama Bank on April 18. That night we anchored with 25 boats. In pairs and small groups, they began to depart at 11 p.m. and continued throughout the night. We left in the morning and anchored that night on the edge of the Little Bahama Bank, out of sight of land, with four other boats.

We slept as well as one can sleep in a washing machine, then pulled anchor, as planned, at 2 a.m. It was a bumpy beginning that calmed down as the day went on. Our destination was Port Canaveral, and we arrived at 5 p.m. on April 20.

The passage was uneventful—if that word can accurately describe a voyage in which Keith caught a mahi-mahi and a pod of six dolphins jumped all around our bow for ten minutes in a spirited dance of joy. What beautiful gifts from the Creator of all life!

Port Canaveral is a base for cruise ships. It’s also home to scores of sport-fishing boats. When they come back to port, scores of pelicans congregate, waiting for just a tiny scrap of the catch.

It’s good to be back on home soil. From here on, Keith’s placemarks on the Google map link to the right will be yellow to distinguish them from the blue balloons we have used up to this point. Thanks again for joining us on our journey. As always, we appreciate your love and support!

A Big Birthday Send-Off

April 17, Green Turtle Cay
The last night we spent with Claus and Rachael, we made it a happy celebration with an early birthday party for moi (we’ve been around a lot of French Canadian boats). Rachael pulled out all the stops and put on a full dress affair. I was given suggestions about accepted attire, and Keith was given his own instructions. That afternoon, Rachael had woven attractive rattan ties for the guys, shirt and jacket not required.

She had a very busy afternoon! Not only did she stitch up some torn seams in our bimini canvas and make two ties, but she also made me three coconut bowls (from coconuts we had found together) and a conch horn. In The Bahamas it’s traditional for cruisers to celebrate every sunset by blowing horns made from conch shells. There’s a trick to it, and I’m getting the hang of it.

As if all of the above wasn’t enough, Rachael made a scrumptious dinner including pork medallions with a sour cream-cognac sauce and a low-carb flourless chocolate cake. Mmm mmm, I don’t get chocolate very often, so it was a huge treat. I’ll sure miss Rachael’s cooking!

We had such a fun evening reminiscing about the quality of the time we've spent together. When we calculated the quantity, we were amazed to realize that we've been together most evenings for the last five months, except for a couple weeks here and there when our schedules took us in different directions.

We didn't want to talk about sailing away without them the next day. What we’ll really miss on the rest of the trip is the love and camaraderie between all of us. It enriched the meals and conversations we shared on each other’s boats, added fun to everything we did together, and enhanced the places we explored. Until next time, Claus and Rachael!

Trouble in Paradise

April 13-16, White Sound, Green Turtle Cay
Yes, there can be trouble in paradise. We’ve often mentioned the need to seek a sheltered harbor when storms are forecast. High winds produce uncomfortable conditions on unprotected seas, so every boat is looking for safe haven. Unfortunately, the “safe” anchorages become crowded. And even there, anchors can break loose. Sometimes those captains maneuver and reset their anchors without significant problems. Other times, they do everything wrong, to the peril of the other boats in the anchorage.

At 2:30 a.m. on Tuesday morning, that’s what happened. A storm hit our anchorage with winds of 40 miles per hour. Boats started dragging and moving, including a Moorings charter catamaran next to us. They pulled up their anchor and, instead of motoring forward or to their starboard, they drifted back onto us, fouling their rudder in our anchor chain and pulling our anchor out. Entangled, the only thing we could do was fend off and try to separate the two boats. We told them to put out an anchor—now!—but they didn’t.

The events unfolded so quickly, yet they played out like a slow-motion horror movie, scary and surreal. The catamaran was attached to us, and we were both hurtling between boats in the crowded anchorage, very narrowly missing one. Keith released all of our anchor chain, but still entangled, the catamaran rammed us, T-bone style, onto the bowsprit of another sailboat, Samaria II. At this point, Keith cut the anchor completely loose and the catamaran was able to break free. Concerned that we might tangle the anchor chain of Samaria II, which we were now blown hard against stern-to-bow, we put out fenders and rafted together until daylight.

The rest of the story is good news. Andrew and Denise on Samaria II are the nicest people you could ever wish to raft up with, involuntarily or not. They made a harrowing night much more bearable by their kindness and positive attitudes. Andrew’s father invented the CQR anchor, and he enjoyed putting it to the test with two boats hanging on the one anchor in gale-force winds. Denise even thought it was an exciting adventure. (We can’t go quite that far—yet!)

In the morning Claus and Barry Hammerberg spent a long time helping us separate Pelican and Samaria II without any further damage. They set a kedge anchor off the stern to hold the two boats apart. Then Keith dove down to the bottom of the harbor and tied lines to our primary anchor and chain, which they helped us recover before we motored away and re-anchored. We’re so grateful for their time, expertise, and muscle!

And the whole cruising community pulled together around us, surrounding us with concern and support. We feel as though we’ve gained a bunch of new friends.

Pelican did sustain damage which needs to be repaired, but it is mostly cosmetic. She will still be able to soar in a fine breeze. We thank God for being good to us and protecting us in a situation that could have been so much worse.

A Perfect Corner of Creation

April 11-12, Manjack Cay
If there is a perfect place in The Bahamas, for us it’s the northernmost bay on Manjack Cay (pronounced mun´-jack). God must have said, “I’m going to do something extra-special with this little corner of My world.”

And so He designed curving sand beaches that shimmer in the golden rays of the sun and small rocky coves that explode with spectacular surf spray. He tinted the waters in jewel-tones of emerald, aquamarine, and sapphire. He fashioned an expansive variety of seashells to wash up on the beach, little gifts from the sea. And He created both laughing gulls that squawk in hope of a handout and stingrays with velvety soft undersides that caress your hand as they nuzzle it looking for treats.

At night, He studded the jet-black canopy overhead with a glorious array of stars. And down in the water, a brilliant touch: phosphorescence that glitters with any movement—swishing an oar through the water creates swirls of twinkling flashes, as if the fish are playing with sparklers.

Awesome displays that each reflect a tiny facet of the beauty of our awesome Creator.

A Favorite Island

April 8-10, Green Turtle Cay
Just north of the Whale Cay passage lies Keith’s favorite island, Green Turtle Cay. Beautiful live barrier reefs sit to the east, and two harbors offer shelter. White Sound, on the north end of the island, is home to two marina resorts. Black Sound is near the town on the southern end. The thriving town is called New Plymouth—do you think it might have been settled by British loyalists? It’s not too tourist-y and feels truly Bahamian. Miss Doreen’s house, pictured here with green and white shutters, is the oldest wooden building in town dating back to 1800. Several others have stood since 1840. They’ve seen a lot of hurricanes come and go. Maybe part of the appeal is a feeling of permanence.

The “most unusual building” award has to go to the old jail or “Ye Olde Gaol,” as the sign says. Notice the stairway to nowhere. We think it may have led somewhere indeed—to the gallows. There’s no perfect place anywhere, but this one is “Claus enough” as our dear friend has been heard to say.

Look Homeward

April 11, 2008, Green Turtle Cay
It’s not that we’re ready to trade balmy 85-degree days for blustery 10-inch spring snowstorms in Minnesota. It’s been a good winter to be somewhere else! But in order to get home in early June for the best weather the northland has to offer, we need to begin our slow journey now.

We completed a series of “lasts”: the last propane and water tank refills, the last major grocery provisioning, the last trip to the Laundromat. We extended our immigration status, which was set to expire before our exit.

And…sigh of relief…we got around Whale Cay. This passage (out one cut and back through another where the deep Atlantic funnels into the shallow Sea of Abaco) is notorious for wreaking havoc, even sinking big ships, when “rage” conditions (huge, breaking waves) are present. This time the roaring lion purred like a pussycat. Now it’s all downhill from here.

Oh, except for another notorious passage called the Gulf Stream. We’d like to cross sometime around April 20. Of course, every plan we make has a weather contingency clause.

We’re so happy that Claus and Rachael are still buddy-boating with us. They don’t plan to leave The Bahamas until mid-May, but we’ve all become such good friends that they’ll stay with us as long as possible and then back-track a little. It’s better in The Bahamas, and it’s fabulous with friends!

Places to Go, People to See

April 2-7, Man-O-War and Great Guana Cays
Before leaving the southern part of the Abacos, we made a couple more stops. After Hope Town we headed just a little bit north for a day stop at Man-O-War Cay. This island was formerly a wooden boatbuilding center. Now small shops along the waterfront manufacture fiberglass runabouts. Albury’s Sail Shop sells all kinds of colorful canvas bags and hats. It’s a quiet place that caters far less to tourists than Hope Town does. The locals are industrious and devoutly religious. Nothing is open on Sunday; no alcohol is sold anywhere on the island. We spent part of the day visiting Kirk, a man we’d met a couple weeks earlier on the ferry to Hope Town.

Back to Marsh Harbour for a few days. When it came time to leave there, the fuel docks were full. Plan B: we’ll motor to Orchid Bay Marina on Great Guana Cay to top off our fuel and water tanks. This was one of the times when Plan B turns out to be far better than the original plan! In 2004 we had made friends with the dock master, Mackenzie. He was still working there and remembered us. He said he’d thought about us many times and wondered how we were. We told him we’d talked about him often, how he gave us a ride over in Marsh Harbour when he saw us walking with groceries, how he visited us at another marina. It was great to see him again, and we promised we’d spend some time at Orchid Bay on our next trip to the Abacos. Yes, we hope there will be a next trip.

Happy Endings

March 28-April 1, Hope Town Harbour
Some things turn out better than anticipated. When the Hope Town Harbour Light was erected in the 1860s, the residents protested loudly, refusing to provide fresh water to the government workers on site. Many locals feared it would interfere with their “search and rescue” livelihood of wrecking: watching for ships that foundered on the barrier reef the runs along the east side of the Abacos and collecting any saleable goods (and, of course, any sailors) from the wreckage.

The story had a happy ending. The lighthouse was completed and now contributes dramatically to the local livelihood of tourism. Standing over the harbor with red and white candy stripes, it has been the colorful subject of countless photos and paintings. It’s a magnet to visitors who come to Elbow Cay to sightsee in the charming town. They can climb the tower, browse in cute shops and eat in restaurants housed in colorful cottages, or walk the long beaches. They may stay for a few hours or a few weeks, and some never leave.

Along with many other cruisers, Hope Town was on our must-do list in the Abacos. After we left Little Harbour we first anchored off Tahiti Beach, a gorgeous beach on the south end of Elbow Cay. For lunch, we checked another item off the list: we dinghied over to Cracker P’s, a restaurant on the island of Lubber’s Quarters only accessible to small boats. Then on to Hope Town.

For several days Pelican was moored in Hope Town harbor while a weather system breezed through. Sunday we attended the Methodist church in town and ran into Ed Collins. We had met Ed in 2004 on the street in Marsh Harbour. He was very friendly and welcoming to us as fellow “Middle Westerners” and invited us to come and spend a day in Hope Town. He and his wife Bobbie had first come to Hope Town on a sailboat and now have a second home there. Bobbie was back in the States at the time, so we didn’t meet her. But Ed was a great host, showing us around their home, taking us out for lunch, and giving us a tour of the island with a special stop to watch Winer Malone work on a wooden boat. Winer is the last builder of traditional wooden Abaco dinghies on the island, and he does it all without the aid of power tools in a tiny shed attached to his home. At that time, Ed was finishing a book entitled Winer Malone and the Abaco Dinghy.

It was fun to see Ed again, and this time we had the pleasure of meeting his lovely wife, Bobbie. Ed's book is published and all of the proceeds go to support the Wyannie Malone historical museum in Hope Town. We bought a copy and were very impressed. It turned out beautifully. The text clearly describes a complicated process, illustrated by dozens of beautiful pictures. Another happy ending.

Artists’ Outpost

March 23-27, Little Harbour
In 1952 a sculptor and professor named Randolph Johnston brought his family to a small cove at the south end of the Sea of Abaco called Little Harbour to escape the self-destructiveness of society. He built a beachside foundry where he could create lost-wax bronze sculptures. His son, Pete, now carries on the sculpting tradition.

The first time we came to Little Harbour in 1992 you could only visit the offbeat community, including a high-end gallery, by boat. Now tourists arrive by car and the formerly funky open-air restaurant, Pete’s Pub, has acquired a mainstream patina. It’s still a great place to hang out, though!

Our previous visits had never coincided with the fascinating process of a bronze pour in the foundry. Rava, a very charming French artist who was Randolph’s last apprentice, did most of the work, along with an assistant. They joked around with us and explained every step of the process. Chunks of copper had been heated to 2000 degrees throughout the morning. We got there around noon and watched as they geared up in full protective spacesuit-like outfits, donning different helmets for different steps in the sequence. They added pieces of lead, then tossed several glass bottles into the bubbling mixture in order to attract impurities so that slag could be skimmed off the top. Finally they pulled blistering hot silica molds from a kiln, carefully hoisted the fire-orange crucible out of a flaming cauldron, and poured the molten metal into each mold, an extremely dangerous procedure.

An hour later we returned to witness the next step. Rava dunked the molds in a barrel of water to cool and cure them, then chipped away the molds. Everything turned out as intended; it was a successful pour. Incidentally, the lost-wax part of bronze sculpture comes into play as the silica molds are formed. Once the pour is finished and the molds destroyed, the sculptures are only about halfway through the labor intensive lost-wax process. But they are well on their way to becoming beautiful works of art.

Familiar Waters

March 15-22, Marsh Harbour
We’re back in the familiar waters of the Sea of Abaco. In addition to our previous trip on Pelican when we spent three months in Abaco in 2004, we vacationed here in 1992, 2000, and 2005. By land or by sea, we enjoy it enough to keep coming back.

Not only are the waters familiar…so are the high winds! March is the windiest month of the year, and successive weather fronts clock the wind direction from south to west to north. Weather systems in the Abacos, not to mention tide charts, are more limiting than we wish they were. With each approaching front, boats hurry to one of the five harbors in the area with all-around protection looking for a first-come, first-served mooring or good holding.

Northerly winds were on the way, and Saturday we pulled into Marsh Harbour, one of those protected anchorages. It’s the second-largest city in the Bahamas and the hub of the southern Abacos. Here you can jump on one of Albury’s ferries destined for Great Guana Cay, Elbow Cay, or Man-o-War Cay, each with its own personality and array of shops, restaurants, beaches, and activities. Or you can rent a car and drive to either end of the “mainland” of Great Abaco.

Our anchor held fast in Marsh Harbour for a week as two fronts blew through. But we took advantage of our location at the center of the hub and made side trips along several spokes: Great Guana Cay for Nipper’s Pig Roast under coloful umbrellas; Hope Town, where we spent our first family vacation in The Bahamas at Abaco Inn; Cherokee, a clean, quaint, always freshly painted town boasting the longest dock in The Bahamas stretching into a shallow sound that almost dries at low tide; and Little Harbour for fabulous fresh fish and the best coleslaw around at Pete’s Pub.

During the week we reconnected with Claus and Rachael after almost a month apart and enjoyed spending time with their visiting friends: first Fred, Heidi, Hilary and Molly Street, and later Paul Danelski…all great people and now our friends, too!

For me, the highlight of the week was the outdoor Easter service for cruisers at the water’s edge in Marsh Harbour. Pastor Silbert Mills presented a moving and inspiring sermon that infused Bahamian flavor, expressions, and passion into the eternal message that Christ the Lord is risen indeed!

Whales and a Dolphin

March 14, New Providence Channel
Crossing from Eleuthera to Abaco, we transited the very deep, and on this day, calm water of New Providence Channel. Off in the distance, Keith spotted something jumping on the surface of the water. He said, “There’s a big group of dolphins over there…. No, they’re way too big. They’re whales!”

We altered course to get a better view of eight or ten pilot whales gracefully arching their dorsal fins out of the water. One came right alongside our boat to check out the bigger fish in the sea. She surfaced a few times, then the entire pod dove deep and disappeared. What a thrill!

We read up afterward and learned that pilot whales can grow to eighteen feet long and weigh over 5000 pounds, males significantly larger than females. They live in matrilineal pods consisting of up to three generations of related females and their offspring. Pilot whales can be seen in Abaco year round, but are more common during the spring and summer.

As for dolphin, Keith caught and landed a big, beautiful mahimahi out on the blue water. The twenty-something pound fish will provide the two of us at least eight meals. It's a good thing dolphin are so tasty!

Picturesque Villages

March 8-13, Royal Island-Spanish Wells
We sailed to Royal Island on Saturday afternoon and within an hour-and-a-half of anchoring, a weather front moved in with rain and wind. It has been windy ever since. Keith really wanted to snorkel by Royal Island. A very long reef stretches for miles along the northern side of several islands, including Royal. But the property is under development and it’s forbidden to go ashore and cross the narrow island now. To get to the outer reefs, he would have to dinghy around the island to the north side, a two-mile ride, and the seas have been rough for snorkeling. We decided to move on to Spanish Wells.

Every day, a high-speed ferry leaves Nassau and stops at Spanish Wells on its way to Harbour Island just east of Eleuthera. Tuesday we spent the day there enjoying the historic wooden cottages with shutters painted in bright, contrasting tones. Many of the homes are similar in style to the cottages built in the late 1700s by British Loyalists who left the United States after the Revolutionary War. Beachside hotels and restaurants that accommodate tourists abound. Gorgeous bougainvillea in glorious hues wind around arbors and trail over walls, lifting their blooms to the God who made them. We walked on the famous pink sand, soft and powdery between our toes, and then ate lunch in town on a restaurant terrace overlooking the water. Harbour Island was picturesque from every angle.

Spanish Wells has its share of cute seaside cottages and flowering archways. And the town has its own special charm: it’s extremely neat and clean, the people hard-working and welcoming. As the center for the lobster fishing industry in the Bahamas, it caters less to tourists. Young men who grow up in Spanish Wells tend to leave school early, and nine of ten become lobster men, a highly profitable line of work. While we were anchored near Spanish Wells, around ten lobster boats came into port. As we walked on the wharf, Miss Londa was being unloaded. We talked to a young, friendly lobster man named Nicholas. He couldn’t reveal the weight of their catch but said they had been out for five weeks and would leave again in three days to fish until the season ends March 31. Fifty-pound bags of frozen tails were transferred to four dumpster-size crates and then to refrigerated semi-trailers, all destined for Nassau and beyond. Someone told us that Spanish Wells supplies the entire Red Lobster chain. Whether that’s true or not, it’s ironic that there’s no lobster on the menu at the sole wharf-side restaurant in town.

Spanish Wells is unlike any other town we have visited in the Bahamas. And it’s easily among our favorites.

Luxury at Last

March 5- 7, Nassau Harbour Club
Cruiser’s quote of the day: “I’d rather be sailing in the Bahamas thinking about a hot shower than in a hot shower thinking about sailing in the Bahamas.”

For the first time in fifty days, we checked in to a marina. This is a new style of cruising for us and a new record by far. Previously our longest stretch between marina stays was a week. We took advantage of the opportunity to luxuriate in long, hot showers rather than using a sprinkling of cool water…to let the cabin lights blaze in the evenings rather than cooking dinner by the scant illumination of solar lights…to run the air conditioner all day long rather than cooling off only at night. Ahh…the little luxuries.

It had also been more than fifty days since we had last driven a car. Keith got back in practice driving a rental car all around the island…on the left side of the road. At the Cricket Club, we ordered British fare, lamb shank and shepherd’s pie, for lunch. Then we toured the historic fort that guards the western end of the harbor, Fort Charlotte. Arawak Cay, Cable Beach, Delaporte, Love Beach, and Lyford Cay are places Keith and his family talk about; it was fun to see them. We walked the grounds of St. Andrews School, part of the British system, where Keith attended Forms 1-3. And we visited the Royal Nassau Sailing Club, where Keith got his first taste of the life we now lead.

Once we re-provisioned at the excellent supermarkets in Nassau, it was time to leave our life of luxury behind and begin to make our way to the Abacos.

Back Home Again

February 29-March 4, Shroud Cay to Nassau
Shroud Cay would be beautiful in any weather. Its network of pale aquamarine mangrove streams shimmered in the sun. Driftwood Beach on the ocean side was even more impressive with pounding surf. Loren and Clairice loved the place as much as we do, but wind from the latest cold front produced choppy waves and soggy dinghy rides.

From Shroud Cay to Allans Cays, 25-knot winds propelled us at 7.5 knots with only a reefed jib. Once anchored, we went ashore to view the main attraction—the iguanas—close up. A little too close for Loren. He offered a chunk of raisin bread to a big iguana that expressed its gratitude by taking chunks out of three of Loren’s fingers, an injury that throbbed and bled off and on for the next two days. Keith picked up an iguana and received some sharp kicks from its claws. Both Loren and Keith emerged bloodied from their iguana encounters.

For Keith, the bigger attraction at Allans is lobster. Last time we stopped here, he speared three lobsters. This time wind and waves conspired to keep him away from that reef. But he and his dad snorkeled in a more protected area at the edge of the anchorage and he shot another big spiny lobster. We were excited that Mom and Dad could have at least a taste of really fresh lobster before they leave.

As we crossed to Nassau, Loren hooked a big one on the Yellow Bank and fought it admirably. He kept the line taut and reeled in the monster by inches. It seemed like the contest would go on all afternoon. But by the time he landed his catch, the only thing on the line was seaweed. The lure showed new bite marks, though, and Keith saw a couple flashes of silver. We think it was a huge barracuda. Foiled again on his last fishing opportunity!

Our passage to Nassau, where Loren and Clairice will depart from, could hardly be considered smooth sailing. Beam seas rolled us around, salt spray soaked the cockpit. It was one of those voyages you’re happy to put behind you. Clairice, who doesn’t have a particular affinity for rough seas, endured it admirably.

We’re happy to be back in Nassau. We walked all over town to tour old haunts together: Hilltop House where Keith and his parents lived from 1970-75, old and new locations of The Christian Book Shoppe where his parents worked, Calvary Bible Church where the family attended, Bay Street duty-free shops and straw market, and Potters Cay. Loren and Clairice commented frequently on how different everything seems thirty-five years later. One of the more obvious changes is the presence of Atlantis Resort. We marveled at the aquarium’s colorful fish and graceful manta rays floating by, their wingspan as wide as our boat, and at the grandeur of the sculptures and architecture.

Monday night Loren and Clairice treated us to dinner. Our taxi driver that night was nicknamed Goat. When Loren asked why he was called Goat, he told us the story. He was born in George Town and his family moved up to Nassau. They told him he was too “biggety,” meaning he was a bully. They left him behind to take care of their herd of 75 goats. Being all alone, he started killing one or two goats every week and cooking them every way he could imagine. After some months, the family asked him to come up to Nassau with the goats. His aunt loaded the mailboat with boxes of potatoes, onions, and vegetables from the Exumas to accompany him to Nassau. His mother met him at the dock and unloaded all of the vegetables, then asked, “Where are the goats?” He had to admit, “I ate them all.” “All 75?!” “Every last one.” He got a really good whooping. She must have whooped the biggety right out of him, because after thirty years in Nassau, he seems like a fine man.

Luciano’s, the restaurant where we ate, is an elegant waterfront location west of the Paradise Island Bridge. Dinner was delicious, the service impeccable, and outdoor seating cooled by an ocean breeze made for a perfect last evening in the Bahamas. We had such a good time together and hope that for Mom and Dad warm memories will outlast the winter back in Minnesota.

Happy Birthday!

February 26-28, Warderick Wells
Cambridge Cay and Warderick Wells are part of Exuma Cays Land & Sea Park, a no-take zone where fishing, conching, and shelling are prohibited. On the way from one to the other, we traveled east outside the park boundaries to fish in the deep water of Exuma Sound where it’s possible to catch tuna, mahimahi, or wahoo. We had a line out and—excitement!—a bite. But the line broke. It was probably our last chance to fish in deeper water while Loren and Clairice are with us, so the one that got away has been the source of a lot of consternation on our boat.

Another cold front, bringing rain and high wind, is on its way, and we have nestled into the very safe harbor of Warderick Wells. As the wind pipes up and clocks around to the north, we’re happy to be comfortably tied to a mooring ball, watching the sun rise over the ranger station.

February 27 is a very special day. Loren turns 70 today! We’re glad he could spend the big day with us. We celebrated with unquestionably the best lunch in the anchorage: caviar, black truffles, imported olives and cheeses. Since we didn’t catch that fish…or any lobster…we’ll have to settle for grilled steak with Bahamian peas and rice for dinner. Happy Birthday, Dad!

P.S. A new slideshow is posted on the top right side of the blog, and Keith keeps the placemarks on the PelicanPath map link updated more often than I update the blog. If there are no new updates for a while, check to see if the map has been updated.

New Favorite Places

February 24-25, Pipe Cay to Cambridge Cay
Tucked between several islands, Pipe Creek is a shallow area with room for only a few boats to anchor. We tried to enter a sliver of water between the rocky shore of Pipe Cay and a sand bar, and in the attempt Keith’s stellar record of never touching bottom on this entire trip was tarnished. No problem—it was soft sand and he quickly powered off.

We dropped anchor in a wider, deeper pool alongside Little Pipe Cay. A luxury resort covered the private cay, but we saw no sign of life. Around us, turquoise waters swirled between rocks and islands. White sand bars expanded and sand flats dried out at low tide.

When we first arrived, Keith and Loren snorkeled to some rocks no more than forty yards from the boat. Fast-running current is prevalent throughout the Exumas. It carried them away in a flash, but they had a heart-pounding swim back to the boat.

We explored the creek area by dinghy and saw a bed of hundreds of baby conch (called “rollers”). Sometimes a square yard housed eight or ten small conch. At slack current, Keith and Loren snorkeled again, bringing back four large conch and a small fish for dinner.

Pipe Creek was so beautiful that we were tempted to stay another day, but we were intrigued by reports of great snorkeling at Cambridge Cay. We were glad we didn’t miss a stop there. We hiked a trail across the island to Bell Rock, which Keith and Loren climbed and conquered. Close to slack tide, we snorkeled over a reef that contained rare coral, including a stand of pillar coral. It resembled multiple small-scale saguaro cacti clumped one against the other.

The current was still strong and we moved on to Rocky Dundas, a grotto that may rival Thunderball. At low tide, we snorkeled under a ledge into a dome-shaped cave that opened to the sky. Sunlight filtered in and illuminated a cathedral of multi-hued stalactites. Where is the camera when you need it?

When Pigs Swim

February 21-23, Cave Cay to Big Majors Spot
Thursday we began our journey north, retracing our route through the Exumas. Loren and Clairice will fly out of Nassau on March 4, so we’ll stop at our favorite places and at some we missed on the way south.

We revisited Cave Cay and anchored all by ourselves, a rare pleasure. On our return trip to Black Point, we ate the best cracked conch ever at Lorraine’s Café and picked up two loaves of delicious coconut bread and dinner rolls that we had ordered from Lorraine’s mom on the VHF radio that morning. At Staniel Cay, we snorkeled in Thunderball Grotto again.

Then we discovered a new favorite place. Sometime in the past domestic pigs were released on an island called Big Majors Spot. They don’t fly, but when you approach Pig Bay by dinghy, that’s when pigs swim! One sow came splashing out to greet us; apparently the others are busy with new litters of piglets. She turned up her nose at the vegetables we brought but loved the raisin bread. We’re not sure if she would be inclined to bite, but Loren wasn’t inclined to find out. He landed on the beach to collect a sample of sand and didn’t let her get anywhere near him, try as she might.

We’ve had a lot of unusual experiences, but nowhere else have we seen swimming pigs!

A Very Warm Welcome

February 19-20, George Town to Staniel Cay
Thursday, February 19, Keith’s parents, Loren and Clairice, flew in to George Town. We were thrilled to see their smiling faces! And they came bearing goodies—new marine supplies, low-carb treats, a web cam, and more.

That night Claus and Rachael joined us at Eddie’s Edgewater Grill and we ordered entrées of turtle, conch, and red snapper. After we had left, a local man chased us down on his bicycle to tell us that we had left a bag in the restaurant, an example of the helpfulness and honesty we’ve experienced everywhere in the Exumas.

Anchored right near downtown, Wednesday was a day of practical provisioning. We bought fresh meat and produce at Exuma Market and fresh bread from Mom’s Bakery van where no transaction is complete without a big hug and a “Praise the Lord!” We refilled water tanks and hauled ten gallons of diesel to the boat.

After a busy day, we enjoyed a relaxing evening. We moved across the harbor and anchored next to Kyanna. We took a dinghy tour along Stocking Island, including Volleyball Beach. Then we went to a cruisers’ happy hour on shore. Dinner with Claus and Rachael on our boat was topped off by the view of a full lunar eclipse. Sadly, it was our last dinner with Claus and Rachael for some time. We’ll go our separate ways before we meet in the Abacos in mid-March. We miss you guys...safe travels!

Overwhelmed by Gifts

February 16-18, George Town
En route from Conception Island to George Town, our alternator broke down. At first it seemed like very bad timing. Knowledgeable cruisers said we should wait until we reached Nassau to have it repaired. We were very happy that we had bought a Honda generator, but with guests about to arrive, we didn’t want to run the generator day and night.

In December back in St. Augustine, we had met two couples traveling on Jeanneau sailboats. One of them, Zingaro, owned by Juan and Estela, is a sister ship. Over the miles we had run into them and chatted several times. They “happened” to be in George Town when we came back there, we stopped to talk with them, and they “happened” to have an extra alternator of exactly the type we needed. They very graciously offered it to us and wouldn’t even take any payment (we’ll try to work something out when we stop at their place in Baltimore on our way back home). Thanks, Juan and Estela!

Sunday, we attended Beach Church in George Town and felt blessed to be in such a welcoming community. That afternoon, Rachael gave me a two-hour massage. You're the best, Rachael!

We’ve received so many gifts along they way, from practical help and kindnesses to the privilege of being out here in the middle of such beauty. “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights” (James 1:17). We feel overwhelmed and undeserving, but thank God for every gift of grace.

Idyllic Interlude

February 10-15, Conception Island
Sunday morning we rounded Cape Santa Maria (named for the ship in Columbus’s fleet that reportedly went down here) and headed for Conception Island. What a wonderful serendipity…we had the entire island to ourselves! We found what we had been looking for throughout the Exumas: a lovely and remote destination off the beaten path

A front was forecast to move into the area Sunday night. It brought high winds, but we were quite well protected. During the five days we spent there, only twelve hours were uncomfortable, due to a surge that rolled in perpendicular to the wind direction. If nobody else wanted to brave a front out here, that was okay with us.

The beach was the most breath-
taking we’ve seen on our trip. White bluffs formed one end of the bay and pristine, pure-white sand curved to the other. The water’s glorious shade of turquoise contrasted against the white. We walked the beach and hiked a short trail that led to another that was almost as pretty.

Keith snorkeled on reefs outside the bay and returned at sunset with his biggest lobster ever for a romantic dinner. In the photo, the plate measures 9.5" in diameter. Another day, we explored a mangrove creek inside the island by dinghy and took twelve conch. Fresh seafood!

Before our stay ended, Valentine’s Day arrived. Ever the incurable romantics, Keith and I both forgot completely that February 14 was a day of any special significance. But we agree that Conception Island itself was our valentine: an amazing and romantic place and an experience we will never forget.

An Awesome Spectacle!

February 9, 2008, Long Island
It didn’t take many days in George Town before we were ready to leave. For some, this is the destination, the place to spend the winter. After all, there’s beach volleyball, you can take classes of any description (basket-weaving, yoga, how to operate an SSB radio, etc.), a happy-hour party is never far away, and there’s a cruiser’s net on the VHF radio every morning. If you’re a candidate for adult day camp, it may be the place for you. What could be the downside? Hundreds of boats are anchored in the harbor!

We floated away over quiet seas, luminous deep-blue water reflecting pearlescence on the back side of every ripple. As we arrived at Calabash Bay on Long Island, a welcome sun shower gave us a fresh-water rinse before we anchored.

A few minutes later, about two miles from where we sat a funnel descended from dark, ominous clouds and a very impressive waterspout churned up a massive spray. In the golden light of late afternoon, it was a powerful and awe-inspiring spectacle!

Down in George Town

February 4-8, 2008, Great Guana Cay to George Town
After watching the Super Bowl in Black Point Settlement, we moseyed down the west side of Great Guana Cay to anchor for the night. Sweet solitude!! We were all alone in an anchorage for the first time since we left the Apostle Islands.

Uncomfortable rollers sent us further south the next day, and we anchored in a more protected spot behind Cave Cay with several other boats. As we sat there, a brown pelican flew in and landed right behind our Pelican. We knew it was a very rare sighting—a couple weeks earlier at Exuma Cays Park, the ranger said pelicans very seldom visit the Bahamas. Keith had talked to another Bahamian man who said he hadn't spotted one around here in years.

Near Cave Cay, Keith had another rare sighting—a huge spiny lobster. He speared it and brought it home for dinner. The two of us ate as much as we could, and still couldn't finish it! Yummm.

We wanted to get down to George Town, probably the southern-

most point on our journey, this week. Claus and Rachael's daughter, Annie, her husband, Sean, and daughter, Kyah, are vacationing here, and we wanted to meet them before they leave on Saturday. Last night we took a lobster salad appetizer to their boat and had dinner together. What a great family!

Tomorrow, we want to head a little further east to see Long Island and then Conception Island before a cold front arrives here...and before Loren and Clairice fly in to George Town on February 19.

First Friday at Farmers

January 29-February 3, Black Point to Little Farmers Cay
Sandwiched between two visits to Black Point Settlement, we attended the 5F—First Friday in February at Farmers Festival. This is billed as one of two major annual events in the Exumas. The celebration spills over into Saturday and is kicked off with pomp and circumstance. Regional government officials offer effusive speeches. The police chief of the Exumas, dapper in military uniform and diamond-crusted Rolex, sternly warns that lawful custody will certainly follow unlawful activity. Uniformed schoolchildren recite the pledge and sing the national anthem and the Farmers Cay song. The national TV station in Nassau even sends a team to cover the story.

For an island with a total population of 60, this is great marketing! Boats loaded with Exumians from neighboring islands fill every available dock. Planes land at the airstrip bringing native sons back from George Town and Nassau. And cruisers are not only invited to attend, they’re pressed into service to help run the festival.

The main attraction is a sailing regatta: races for fame and honor between Bahamian wooden sloops. On the second day, Keith volunteers as crew on one of the boats. The other three Bahamian sailors on Golden Girl are leery. Sailing experience on a boat like ours doesn’t necessarily translate to one like theirs (just ask the crew of non-Bahamian cruisers that try racing one of the sloops on their own). His duties, in addition to normal tasks like raising the anchor and helping trim the sheet, include riding the “prys,” the boards that are pushed out from one side to the other on each tack. The human ballast balances way out on the boards, adjusting position with any gusts, to keep the boat as level as possible.

Golden Girl runs into hard luck. First, she goes aground and finishes eighth in her race. On the next outing, a T-bone collision opens a gaping hole in her side, but she manages to place fifth among fifteen contenders. His crewmates declare Keith a natural—no great surprise to those of us who know him!

We closed out the festival at West Beach with the Bahamian crowd. The very entertaining conch man, Carsol, made two preparations of conch I had never tried before. Scorched conch is scored and topped with “sour and spice,” or lime and Scotch bonnet peppers, guaranteed to set your lips on fire. Grilled conch is diced and pounded, then cooked in foil with green pepper, onion, and an abundance of butter-flavored Crisco; very tasty if not healthful!

Speaking of health, and in keeping with the alliteration theme, we could talk about positive progress, a remarkable recovery, or feeling in fighting form. The best description is that it's a generous gift of God’s great goodness and grace. Much sooner than I imagined, I’m able to breathe deeply and do almost everything I need to do…still carefully…but with very minimal pain. Thank you so much for your prayers!

OO7 and OOPs!

January 27-28, Staniel Cay, The Exumas
Thunderball Cave, just off the settlement at Staniel Cay, was the setting for scenes from the James Bond movie “Thunderball” (and the Tom Hanks/Darryl Hannah movie “Splash”). We really wanted to snorkel the cave, and though it was later in the day we were in the water within an hour of our arrival here.

It was low tide so we didn’t need to dive to enter the cave. Once inside, shafts of sunlight spilled through the opening in the ceiling and illuminated a spectacular array of sponges and corals ranging in color from orange to gold to lavender. To exit, we chose a small submerged tunnel and dove through. We were not disappointed—it’s no wonder this picturesque place has been featured in the movies.

As it turns out, I’m so glad we did that right away. The next morning Keith wanted to snorkel along the rocky shoreline and maybe spear dinner. I drove the dinghy back to the mother-ship and had to land it by myself against the current and in choppy seas. Just as I attempted to step off, the dinghy bobbed, my foot slipped, and I lost my grip. I crashed full force, catching my rib on the edge of the swim platform. We’ve determined that it isn’t broken (“it’s just a flesh wound”)—thank God!—but still it hurts to breathe and most movement is painful.

Our friend and traveling companion, Rachael, is a massage therapist trained in homeopathic treatments. She’s been taking excellent care of me. I’d really appreciate your prayers, too, that this injury will heal quickly and completely. Keith would also appreciate that since he’s waiting on me hand and foot now.

We did go ashore for a traditional Bahamian breakfast of stewed fish and johnny cake or grits. Then we walked around the colorful little town of Staniel Cay and bought a few provisions at The Blue Store and Pearl's Pink Market. The people who live here are delightful, so friendly and helpful and exuberant. If one is going to be out of commission somewhere, this is as good a place as any!

A Little Decadence in Paradise

January 24-26, Warderick Wells, The Exumas
A crescent of shimmering aquamarine circles the harbor, surrounded by creamy light turquoise water over sandy bottom. This is the headquarters for Exuma Cays Land & Sea Park, a pristine section of the island chain that covers twenty-six miles. Sitting at the ranger station, little Bananaquits will eat sugar right out of your hand, their tiny bird-feet tickling as they cling to your fingers.

On land, a network of trails cuts through dense bonsai-like vegetation and across jagged coral, leading past natural wells, mangrove marl, and rolling terrain to unspoiled beaches, a blow hole, and especially to the highest point on the island. It’s named Boo Boo Hill because of local legend that the island is haunted by shipwrecked souls. On the crest of the hill, cruisers leave their signature: plaques with the name of their vessel and the date. Most are made of driftwood (often simple, but some very elaborate)…others are written on old conch shells (no doubt gathered outside the park!)…and one with the name Pelican is written on a piece of a Home Depot yardstick (not impressive, but it works).

Out on the water, we explored a few snorkeling spots. It was my first time snorkeling since we arrived in The Bahamas, and after a little practice I thoroughly enjoyed the undersea world. The best locations we found were right in the harbor. The burned-out wreck of a sailboat rests directly beneath our boat. And a beautiful little reef in a cove is haven for dozens of brilliant fish and several super-sized lobsters.

Last night we enjoyed an extravagant appetizer with Claus and Rachael: beluga caviar that Keith had purchased in Moscow last October. It tasted like paradise, with flavors both delicate and decadent. Grocery stores may be few and far between in this area, but we’re managing quite well.

The sight of all the tasty treats in the no-take waters of Exuma Cays Park is enough to make our mouths water, though. We’re craving fresh seafood, and today we’ll move to Staniel Cay.

A Secret World

January 23, Shroud Cay, The Exumas
Leaving Allan’s Cay, we hoisted our sails for an exhilarating sail down the Bank to Shroud Cay, part of Exuma Cays Land & Sea Park. From the water, it looks like any of the other islands here, but the rocky perimeter shelters a secret hidden world.

Inside, crystalline lime green streams crisscross the island. They carve their way through mangrove marshes and white salt flats. At high tide, the flats become shallow pools; low tide leaves gently undulating white expanses and exposed tangles of mangrove roots—a landscape of otherworldly beauty.

We set out in Claus and Rachael’s dinghy at low tide to explore the interior. Half of the time, we had to jump out and drag it through the shallows. As you can see, we had no fun at all!

In the crystal clear stream of the protected habitat, huge conch lay undisturbed, little nurse sharks and black tips swished by, puffers and scores of other fish darted, and two crabs squeezed each other in a careful mating embrace.
At the other side of the island, the stream poured into the deep water of Exuma Sound, flanked by a long stretch of beach and the curve of a cove. We hiked to Camp Driftwood, and reveled in the 360-degree view. What a glorious palette of watercolors and creative brushstrokes God used to paint His world!

Iguanas Galore

January 18-22, Allan’s Cays, The Exumas
The Allan’s Cays are the first stop in the Exumas for many cruisers, including us, because of their proximity to Nassau, the good holding in the anchorage, but mostly because of the iguanas. The Allan’s Cay iguanas are a protected species found on two little cays and nowhere else in the world. Even though feeding is discouraged, the iguanas waddle out of the bush in droves as soon as a dinghy lands, expecting a handout. They don’t have sharp eyesight, so they often take a little bite of finger food.

The iguanas aren’t the only local creatures that appeal to us. For the love of lobster, Keith does the hard work of free-diving fifteen feet in strong current to bring up three large crawfish. Claus, Rachael, and their friend Paul helped locate and coax a couple out of hiding. The three tails were more than enough for a delectable feast for five.

We decided to sit out a cold front at Allan’s. The drop in temperature from 85 to 70 degrees wasn’t a concern, but the northerly winds that propel the front will challenge the anchor set and whip up uncomfortable waves. Keith was very pleased with the new Spade anchor I bought him for Christmas.

We loved our introduction to the Exumas. But after being confined to the boat for a couple days (any dinghy ride would drench the occupants), it was time to move on.

Back Home in the Bahamas

January 14-17, Nassau, Bahamas
We had a beautiful, clear day on the ocean sailing from Chub Cay to Nassau, The coral towers of the landmark Atlantis Resort rose out of the sea on our approach to Paradise Island.

For six years in the early 70s Keith lived in Nassau with his parents and two younger brothers—a kid’s paradise of snorkeling, swimming, even tent camping on the beach where Atlantis now sits. He and his brothers had free rein to explore as far as they could roam.

We explored Atlantis, ate conch salad on Potter’s Cay, and walked to Hilltop House where they had lived. It’s still standing, but has been converted into apartments surrounded by a complex of apartment buildings that block the 360-degree panoramic view they once enjoyed.

Maybe you can’t quite go home again, but there are so many good memories associated with this place. And being back in these islands feels like home to Keith. You can take the boy out of the Bahamas, but you can’t take the Bahamas out of the boy.

Island Time

January 11-13, Ft. Lauderdale to Chub Cay
Cresting sapphire waves and surfing down the other side, we had a relatively comfortable Gulf Stream crossing. That night we anchored out in the open on the Great Bahama Bank and tried to sleep through a wild, rocking-rolling night.

Morning dawned and the light sparkled on shallower teal water. The color grew brighter as the day went on, hinting of the brilliant spectrum of blues and greens awaiting us. A calmer passage welcomed us deeper into the Bahamas.

Looking out over the vast blue expanse that ripples to places far beyond the horizon, we felt a sense of amazement and felt drawn to something beyond ourselves. We could see God’s presence reflected in the beauty of creation all around us.

Our seccond night at anchor, we dropped the hook in a pure sphere of blue, no sight of land anywhere. That was a new and strange experience!

Today we made landfall at Chub Cay after two nights at anchor and decided to stay two nights. The resort is similar to the one in West End, Grand Bahama with no town nearby, just a beachfront development around the marina.


On the way across the Bank, Keith hooked a very nice dolphin. He did a great job of landing and cleaning it while we were underway. Guess what's for dinner?

It's sinking in that we have arrived at a different place and time. A place of powdery beaches, pastel cottages, and palms waving. A place to relax and just be. Time that ticks by more slowly. Time to take a deep breath, savor the fresh salt air, slow down, and settle in. Island time: where you have just enough energy for a little snorkeling, beach-combing, and book-reading before the warmth of the sun lulls you into a nap.

Well, that sounds good, but there's always boat work to be done!

Out on the Ocean Blue

January 11, Florida - the Bahamas
The weather window is opening just a crack and we’re ready to throw wide the shutters and cast off. For more than a week the winds have blown from the north (stirring up massive waves in the Gulf Stream) and the east (producing waves that we would pound into). Tomorrow we’ll see more desirable southeasterly breezes. It could still be a bumpy ride, so we’d appreciate any prayers for safety and relative comfort.

Once we leave shore, Internet coverage will be spotty and our cell phone service will be suspended. We’ll do our best ot keep in touch through this blog.

Claus and Rachael are making the crossing with us on Kyanna, and we’re so happy to be traveling with them for many reasons (and no, it's not just because they have a watermaker and life raft). Our float plan is to anchor on the Great Bahama Bank on Friday and Saturday nights, then check in and spend Sunday night at Chub Cay Marina at the southern end of the Berry Islands. Here’s to smooth sailing and godspeed!

A Plethora of Provisions

January 2-10, Hollywood Beach-Ft. Lauderdale, FL
Our last step before we cross to the Bahamas is to load up with everything we might need and might not find easily or inexpensively over there. What those things are, we’re not entirely sure. To be on the safe side, we loaded up until we can stow no more. Rachael and I made several trips to the grocery store, and when we caught glimpses of each other’s overloaded carts, we’d laugh and say, “We’re acting like we’ll never see a grocery store again!”

We have cases of canned goods and beverages, bricks of coffee, an herb garden, and as much fresh produce and meat as we can squeeze into our refrigerator. Our boat is riding low in the water, but we are in no danger of starving for a very long time. And if Keith and Claus catch as many lobster and conch as we all hope they do, we’ll let those cans of tuna gather dust.

Free Dock Space

December 30-January 1, Ft. Pierce to Hollywood Beach, FL
We had been forewarned that we needed to vacate our slip in Ft. Pierce on December 30, come hell or high water, hurricane or death in the family. Our flight on December 29 landed in Miami, and a few days before departure there were no rental cars to reserve from any agency. But one of the rental web sites showed availability on December 30 in Aventura. Claus and Rachael had their boat nearby, and they kindly picked us up at the airport, fed us another gourmet meal, and put us up for the night.

The next morning when we tried to pick up our car there were none to be had. A corporate computer glitch had allowed thirty reservations with no cars except those that might be returned that day. People walked into the office, confirmations in hand, and found that they were stranded. There was no other way for us to get to Ft. Pierce. I immediately began to pray. We were third in line…two cars were returned…and we soon learned that we happened to be standing behind a man who wanted to exchange a Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder convertible for a sedan. In a short time we were cruising up the freeway, the top down, the sun shining, and the wind in our hair. All things do work together for good!

That night we anchored across the ICW from Ft. Pierce and then motored for two long days to reach the dock where we would stay next. Thirty bridges spanning the waterway needed to open for us to pass through. Most were on schedules, forcing us to wait a few times, but more often Keith cranked up the engine and made the opening.

The further south we traveled, the fewer trailer parks or open spaces. Spectacular residences, complete with fountains and statuary and fabulous yachts out front, lined the waterfront. See-and-be-seen boaters buzzed all around us.

We were on the move toward Hollywood Beach. A strong cold front with beach-emptying forty-degree temperatures and forty-knot northerlies was forecast for several days. Before it arrived, we wanted to be securely in place. And what a place it was! On the east sat a row of condos with docks; behind them a one-block walk to the Atlantic surf. On the west, rare undeveloped parkland created the foreground for vivid sunsets.

We stayed at one of those docks thanks to our well-connected friend, Claus. He makes friends wherever he goes, and one friend’s son owns one of those condos. Claus and Rachael kept Kyanna at that dock and made it their mission to find Pelican a place at one of the empty docks in the development. The owner next door agreed, and our boats happily bounced in the wakes together.

Winter Wonderland

December 18-29, Prior Lake, MN
On December 18, we left behind the palm trees wrapped with Christmas lights and landed in a pure-white winter wonderland of pine trees frosted with snow. It had been an unusually snowy season, and snow continued to fall almost every day while we were home. Yes, we had been dreaming of a white Christmas, and it was just what we were hoping for.

All of my sisters and nephews were home this year for Christmas for the first time in fourteen years and it was wonderful to be all together. My nephews from Mexico and Tennessee, who are all growing up very nicely—ranging from 5ʹ10ʹʺ to 6ʹ7ʹʺ—especially enjoyed the opportunity to experience a northern winter and build snowmen.

We celebrated with my family on Christmas Eve, and wrapped up the evening with the service at Christ Presbyterian Church. It closed with the singing of Silent Night in a darkened sanctuary, everyone holding candles and lighting them from one to the next, a beautiful and moving symbol of Jesus coming to bring light into our darkness.

On Christmas Day we celebrated with Keith’s family, and this was also the alternating year when everyone was together. Even when we’re living our land life, those precious times when the entire family can be together are all too rare. Being away this year, we treasured every one of those moments.

It was a whirlwind of activity and we didn't have time to see most of the friends we wanted to see. Still, by the time we were scheduled to return to Florida, we were happy to leave the chilly white stuff behind. We’ll miss everyone, but we’d rather be on a white sand beach.

Providential Timing

December 10-17, Daytona Beach to Ft. Pierce, FL
Most of the dock space for the month of December at Ft. Pierce City Marina had been booked since August. We called at the end of November to inquire about a space to leave Pelican when we would fly home for Christmas and were very fortunate to reserve the last spot. After an overnight stay in Daytona Beach and a couple nights at anchor, we arrived safely, filled up with diesel, and backed into our slip. The timing was providential—everything had fallen into place beautifully.

The next morning, the screen on our laptop went black. Even though Keith is computer savvy, he was baffled. Research needed to be done and reservations made, and without a computer we were at loose ends. The expert we called in determined that an external monitor would cure the malady. But by the time we got home for Christmas, we knew we had to buy a new laptop. (Ask Keith how he spent his vacation.)

If the events of the morning were not enough, that afternoon the cabin began to reek of the offensive odor of diesel. Opening the hold, we were greeted by an ominous puddle of pink marine fuel. Fortunately, not a drop had leaked into the bilge. Keith spent the next day and two nights replacing absorbent sheets around the leak every half hour around the clock to keep it that way. Finally a great mechanic, also named Keith, fixed the leak by replacing the neoprene gasket by the fill-hole.

In the end, the timing of the computer failure and fuel leak was providential, too. If these things were about to happen, better that they should occur in Florida than after we cross over to the Bahamas. Thank God, all things do work together for good!

Florida's First City

December 6-9, St. Augustine
We made it to Florida, and our first stop was beautiful St. Augustine. This city was established in 1565 as a military outpost of the Spanish empire, making it Florida’s oldest city and the oldest permanent European settlement in the United States. Castillo de San Marcos, the fort built to safeguard the city, was never defeated in battle and still holds its commanding post overlooking the inlet. On land, traces of those Spanish roots are visible in many of its photogenic buildings. Flagler University, originally built by Henry Flagler as a luxury hotel, towers over the Spanish quarter.

We toured the fort, walked down historic brick streets, ate Cuban food, and sipped free wine at the “First Fridays” art gallery crawl. Double the fun because Claus and Rachael were with us. After two nights in the marina, we anchored north of Bridge of Lions by the fort. From there, we had a fabulous view of white Christmas lights decorating the huge trees in the park and the rooflines of old waterfront shops.

On a boat in warm weather, away from TV commercials and shopping malls, Christmas can sneak up on us. Occasionally we see an inflatable Santa, sometimes boats are festooned with wreaths or lights, and bridge tenders will wish us “Happy Holidays,” but we’re not inundated with the trappings of the season. It was good to have another reminder of the Light that entered the world at Christmas and still lights the world with His presence and love.

Enchanted and Wild Things

November 28-December 5, Cumberland Island, Georgia
Just north of the border with Florida lies Georgia’s largest sea island, Cumberland Island. Since 1972 its natural beauty has been protected as a National Seashore. Our friends, Claus and Rachael, caught up with us at an anchorage near the south end of the island.

Moss-laden live oaks canopy paths through the maritime forest or spread their boughs in gnarled corkscrews over a bright green profusion of palmettos. Thick vines swing from tall pines. The effect is magical, like a fantasyland movie set. As you emerge from the light-diffused forest, sun-drenched sand dunes strewn with driftwood buffer the trees and surrounding salt marsh. Beyond the dunes, sparkling seas roll and break on miles of nearly deserted wide beach.

This enchanted land of varied scenery is home to a variety of animals. Armadillos rustle through the underbrush. Wild turkeys peck at open lawns around “Dungeness,” the ruins of a mansion built by Thomas and Lucy Carnegie. White-tail deer, wild boar, raccoons, and wading birds proliferate. But it’s the wild horses people come to see, some 300 on the island. They graze in the open spaces or in the marshes at low tide and amble along the paths and roads.

As we captured close-up photos of a small, quiet herd of wild horses, a colt entered the group and challenged the herd’s stallion. The stallion dispatched four swift, sharp hind kicks into the side of the colt. Defeated, the colt trotted off by himself and the herd in another direction. We thought the incident was finished, but soon the colt raced toward me with the stallion in hot pursuit. The riled-up stallion galloped within a few feet of where I stood, frozen in place and praying hard!

Keith had his own frozen-in-place moment. When the tides drop and expose the edges of the salt marshes, oyster beds appear in abundance. Always ready to belly up to the oyster bar, Keith thought he would harvest a few fresh appetizers. With his first steps, the marsh muck sucked him in and held him fast. It took some effort to extricate his feet, and even more to retrieve his flip-flops. For now, we’ll have to buy our oysters.

Not so with fresh shrimp and trout. Each day we were there, fishermen plied the water around our boat, repeatedly tossing big round castnets into the water and hauling them up full of shrimp. We watched one of them for a while and took several pictures. Noticing our interest, he drove over to give us a good shot of his catch, 100 pounds of shrimp. We talked for a little while, and before he left for the day he came back with a bag of shrimp. In just a couple hours, dinner went from under the boat to on the table. And Keith hooked three trout to provide us a delicious breakfast and dinner.

On our way to the anchorage at Cumberland Island, we had passed Kings Bay Naval Submarine Base. Ahead, a submarine motored up the channel and a guard boat zoomed toward us, lights flashing. Front and back, guards stood at the ready with machine guns. They politely asked us to go downwind of the channel and we obliged without a word of protest.

Our lives have held plenty of excitement lately. Not the least of it, today (December 5) is Keith’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Keith, and may you have a year of God's blessing, fair winds, and smooth sailing!

Thanksgiving Company

November 23-29, Isle of Hope, Georgia
Of course Thanksgiving is the day set aside to express our gratitude to God for all of His gracious gifts, but it's undeniably associated with warm gatherings around the table with those we love. Even though
we were
giving thanks,
it felt strangely empty on the actual holiday to be one of very few boats underway, one of those that didn’t have anyplace special to go. But still we felt blessed—we were headed toward our own warm family gathering when Sean arrived on Friday.

It goes without saying that the three of us had a fantastic time, whether hanging out and talking together…sharing a belated Thanksgiving meal of roast chicken with fennel, garlic flan, and key lime pie…visiting historic Wormsloe Plantation…sightseeing in beautiful Savannah…attending Christ Church, where both John Wesley and George Whitefield were rectors…eating more delicious high-carb Southern fare than any human being should (more than twenty dishes) at Mrs. Wilkes’ Boarding House…or riding bikes on the beach and trails of Hilton Head Island. What a blast!

And best of all, in just a few weeks we’ll be together again at home for Christmas. Thanks, Sean, for making our Thanksgiving complete.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving is a time of quiet reflection upon the past

and an annual reminder that God has, again, been ever so faithful.

The solid and simple things of life are brought into clear focus,

so much so that everything else fades into insignificance.

~CHARLES R. SWINDOLL

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let your lives overflow with thanksgiving for all he has done.
~COLOSSIANS 2:7 NLT

A Little Piece of Home

November 19–21, The Low Country of South Carolina
With the departure of our friends from back home, we thought our lives would return to a quiet little existence, just the two of us floating downstream in our solitary little boat. But we were wrong! The very next day, sailing friends Claus and Rachael Newman from our home marina in Bayfield pulled in to the Maritime Center in Charleston on Kyanna.

They left Pike’s Bay a month before we did but traveled through the St. Lawrence Seaway rather than the Erie Canal. We’ve been watching their blog (http://kyannasails.spaces.live.com/) wondering when they would catch up with us, and finally they did.

For the past three days we’ve traveled together, winding through the low country of South Carolina where wide rivers and narrow streams criscross the seagrass marshes, rising and falling with eight-foot tides. At anchor, we have shared camraderie and conversation about our intersecting journeys over dinner either on our boat or theirs (a bonus for us since Rachael is a great cook).

Tomorrow on Thanksgiving Day they’ll stop at Hilton Head Island and we’ll continue to Isle of Hope near Savannah, where Sean will fly in Friday night to meet us for a late celebration. We're looking forward to his visit, our hearts overflowing with gratitude!

In December we hope to meet up again with Claus and Rachael and travel together for a while. Especially at the holidays we sense the distance from our friends and family at home. Traveling with friends will be like having a little piece of home with us.

Charmed by Charleston

November 13-19, Charleston, SC
Everyone seems to love the historic charm and antebellum opulence of Charleston. For us it was even better because Marty and Barb shared the experience with us.

Marty and Barb belong to a Civil War Roundtable in the Twin Cities, and though he might protest the description, Marty is a Civil War expert. It was fun to be with him on his first visit to Fort Sumter, the place where the first shots of the war were fired. He told us some intriguing behind-the-scenes stories.

We walked for miles along the waterfront and through the historic district, past pre–Revolutionary War houses and beautifully preserved mansions in a complementary blending of architectural styles. These gracious old homes have withstood wars, sieges, hurricanes, and an earthquake, and proudly line the streets with an air of elegance and permanence. We peeked between the bars of wrought iron gates to admire perfectly manicured formal gardens—and camellias blooming in November.

Steeples dominated the city skyline, and on Sunday we attended St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, one of the earliest established churches in Charleston. From the moment we approached the door until we left after coffee hour, we were welcomed with open arms. The bell-ringing was magnificent, the music glorious, the message powerful; it was a highlight of our stay in Charleston.

We not only walked our way through town, we also ate our way through: Shrimp and grits, fried okra, she-crab soup, and a fabulous meal at FIG. Thanks, Mary and Barb, for the fun and memorable weekend!

Change of Scenery

November 9-13, Morehead City, NC to Charleston, SC
Keith’s research to track down Army Corps of Engineers waypoints paid off. In this stretch, we were relieved to transit some of the most notorious shallow sections of the ICW without touching bottom. We went through Lockwoods Folly, one of the problem areas, at low tide with an extra challenge: Scores of small fishing boats were anchored right in the channel and we had to weave between them trying to stay in the deeper water. We asked what they were fishing for, and they told us they were catching spot. We’ve never tried them, but they must be good.

The shrimp are running, and so are shrimp boats of all descriptions, from big trawlers outfitted with multiple nets to small rickety craft with one guy, one net, and a boatload of huge shrimp. We can’t wait to sample the fresh catch!

This stretch of the waterway is one of our favorites, its fascinating scenery so different from northern terrain. From the water, we enjoyed the close-up view of the changing landscapes we floated by.
On the Waccamaw River we anchored in a cypress swamp where gnarled trees grow in the water, their roots more or less exposed with the tides. The next morning a frigid dawn cloaked the cypress trees in fog, creating hauntingly beautiful images of boughs dripping with moss. Farther down the waterway, cypress swamps melded into sea grass marshes. That night we anchored in the middle of a golden sea of grass and watched a gorgeous kaleidoscopic sunset rearrange fiery colors across the sky.

For an entirely different change of scenery, we’ll spend the next week in Charleston docked at Charleston Maritime Center, a great marina very convenient to the historic district. We're looking forward to sightseeing and hanging out with our friends, Marty and Barb Nergaard, who will join us over the weekend.

Searching for Warmer Days!

November 4–8, Great Bridge, VA to Morehead City, NC
We pushed off before first light and poked holes in the fog to go

through the next lift bridge before it closed for morning rush-hour traffic. I bundled in winter layers against the 41º chill. The temperature was undeniably bone-chilling when Keith switched from flip-flops to socks and shoes for the first time this trip. Time to head further south!

We spent a couple long days on the waterway motoring and motor-sailing through straight land cuts, winding rivers, and shallow sounds. At one moment, marsh grass and cypress panoramas stretched as far as the eye could see. Minutes later, we were on the wide-open waters of a sound that extended for miles in every direction. We delighted in the gifts of beautiful scenery, our first pelican sighting (made our boat very happy), and dolphins frolicking around us. At the end of these days we anchored and turned off the engine. The wind died, the water flattened to a perfect calm, and the stillness was heavenly. The sun set, silhouetting the cypress trees on the shoreline against the red twilight.

Otherwise remote anchorages were populated each night by a few of the hundreds of seasonal transient boats traveling south in a line that stretches for over a hundred miles. We pulled in to Morehead City Yacht Basin and decided to stay an extra day, partly to rest and partly to research trouble spots where many boats have run aground south of here. The Army Corps of Engineers is responsible for maintaining the ICW, but hasn’t had enough funding in recent years to dredge all of the areas that need attention. Forearmed with detailed soundings, we hope to stay afloat!

Back on Board

November 1-3, Little Creek, Virginia to Great Bridge, Virginia
After a trip to Italy that could not have been more wonderful—followed by our trips in opposite directions—we’re happy to be back together on Pelican and underway again. First we had to wait three days for Hurricane Noel to pass by in the Atlantic.

We were glad to be safely tied up in Little Creek to sit out the high winds. And our delay gave us the chance to meet Greg and Sondra, a terrific couple who made us feel very welcome on the A dock at Taylor’s Landing. They invited us onto their beautiful Carver, Paradise Found, for a delicious dinner of freshly caught Striper Bites and Asian pears with cheese. Thanks, Greg and Sondra! I won’t describe my grand entrance when I stepped onto their boat; I’ll only say I have the bruises to show for it.

Finally on November 4, we departed Little Creek early to enter the Intracoastal Waterway at Norfolk. On the way, helicopters buzzed above to ensure that all other craft steered clear of naval vessels on maneuvers. The first stretch of the ICW contains a number of bridges and a lock on restricted opening schedules. After quite a bit of waiting for openings, we made it a short day and tied up to a free dock at the town of Great Bridge. Another history lesson along the way: we docked at the very spot where a Revolutionary War battle fought on December 9, 1776, forced the British to retreat from Norfolk.

Ciao, for Now...

October 2-7, Little Creek, Virginia
During a quiet week here, we rented a car—upgraded from a tiny Hyundai to a Mustang fastback!—and drove to Annapolis for the largest sailboat show in the U.S. It was our opportunity to tour the yachts that vendors exhibit at this show and nowhere else…like visiting the most expensive offerings on the Parade of Homes. No plans for a trade-in though; we still love our more scaled-down sailboat.

We drove back following the shorelines of the bay as much as possible, past historic landmarks (George Washington's birthplace, Robert E. Lee's birthplace, historic Yorktown with its famous battlefield)...and picture-postcard scenery galore. All this on a day we had forgotten to bring our camera.

As I mentioned earlier, Keith and I are taking a break from our fantastic voyage to sandwich in another trip of a lifetime. We disembark today and fly to Italy. What better place than the land of romance to celebrate our 25th anniversary!

On October 20 we’ll part ways temporarily. While I return home to Minnesota, Keith will continue on to Aleksandriya, Ukraine to help present a publishers’ conference with his uncle, Rolf Garborg. A year ago they had traveled there under the auspices of the Global Publishers’ Alliance to mentor a small publisher, Andrey Kravchenko, Andrey was so grateful that he wanted to share that same assistance with all of the other Ukrainian Christian publishers! Keith’s brother, Kjell, will join them as a technical expert for an Imagesetter that Garborg Design Works donated to Andrey.

So we will be out of touch for a while, practicing what the Italians call far niente: “the delicious art of doing nothing.” Thank you for coming with us on our journey so far! Check back around the beginning of November when we resume our trip on Pelican.

Sea Legs

September 28–October 1, New York City to Norfolk, Virginia
There aren’t many marinas where you can develop sea legs tied up at the dock. Once we had accomplished that at Newport Marina across from New York City, we were prepared for an overnight open-ocean leg. The passage from New York to Cape May, New Jersey, would take approximately twenty hours, so in order to run with the tides and arrive in daylight, we cast off at 1:45 p.m.

New York harbor held plenty of excitement, partly because of boat traffic to contend with, but mostly because of our close-up views of Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty, and the Manhattan skyline. The weather staged perfect photo opportunities.

Long after we were out of the harbor and heading down the Jersey coast, the sun set. Before darkness had a chance to settle in, we viewed a miniature fireworks extravaganza at one of the coastal cities (miniature because we were five miles out). Even for us, they had some “ooh!” and “aah!” effect. Several seconds after the grand finale, the sound effects of the boomers reverberated across the water. Another light extravaganza down the shore: Atlantic City’s 3 a.m. display brightened the skies for miles around.

On Keith’s last watch, a Northern Flicker flew into the cockpit and was contented enough to sit still while Keith retrieved the camera from below and snapped a couple pictures. Flickers are ant-eating woodpeckers about a foot long; our boat must have been a welcome oasis on his fall migration route.

At 8 a.m. we pulled in to Cape May past a pair of dolphins cavorting in the inlet. After a fuel stop, we anchored and rewarded ourselves with a pot of strong coffee.

Keith went online to check the weather and the NOAA buoys and found favorable conditions. Knowing that we can't devote the time we would like to the Chesapeake Bay with our plan to fly to Italy on October 8 to celebrate our 25th anniversary (fireworks!), we decided to bypass that cruising haven until next time and leave by noon on another overnight sea leg to Norfolk, Virginia. First we tried to nap with no success. Caffeine, maybe?

So we headed offshore again for another passage of about the same duration. Ten miles offshore this time, because the Delmarva (Delaware, Maryland, Virginia) Coast is peppered with shoals. Just a half mile off our route was a NOAA weather buoy, one of a network of ninety buoys on the ocean as well as in the Great Lakes. They provide hourly observations of wind speed and direction, barometric pressure, and wave height to help boaters determine if they want to venture offshore. These trusty buoys have been Keith's friendly navigation advisors for years, but he had never personally met one. Being in the neighborhood, we had to drop by for a quick visit. I was prepared to be completely underwhelmed, but I had to agree he was a cute little guy.

The sun set again and a harvest-orange moon gradually emerged where the sky met the sea. We were such a tiny speck on an immense ocean, and these verses came to mind: “God, high above, sees far below; no matter the distance, he knows everything about us.... I look behind me and you're there, then up ahead and you're there, too—your reassuring presence, coming and going” (Psalm 138:6; 139:5).

With nightfall, the wind picked up. We shut down the engine and sailed a perfect beam reach throughout the night, arriving at the southern entrance to Chesapeake Bay in twenty-knot winds and five-foot seas.

Forty-four hours after leaving New York, we snug in at the marina where we will leave Pelican for a month, tired but elated to be further south than we thought possible. Keith says the last two nights were good practice for an ocean crossing someday. Hmmm….

P.S. Notice the two beautiful new pictures posted below under “Hudson River Highlights.” Photo credits go to Keith's dad, who made it his mission to drive to every bridge or riverside park between Waterford and Catskill to take pictures of Pelican on the Hudson River.

Hudson River Highlights

September 20-27, Waterford, New York to New York City
We’ve been quiet without much to report for a while, but here are a few highlights from the past week:

• Completing the last five locks of the Erie Canal, the “Waterford Flight.” This set of locks, the biggest in the world, dropped us 169 feet in less than two miles. We spent Friday and Saturday nights in the historic town of Waterford, the oldest incorporated village in the United States.Loren and Clairice had left a car at the home of his cousin Laurie and her husband Jim. They drove it over and we enjoyed their company over a delicious dinner complete with warm and funny conversation.

• Restepping the mast at Riverview Marine in Catskill on Monday, September 24. Our beautiful Pelican is now restored her to her normal state of grace. Loren and Clairice worked hard on the tasks involved in the process and then left the next morning without reaping the rewards of their labor. We’re so glad they could share the experience of the Erie Canal with us, and we’re very thankful for all of their help.

• Meeting John and Ann Ross, a charming couple from Sarasota, Florida, who trailered their 1946 Chris Craft to the Hudson River to cruise with twenty-seven other classic wooden boats. Their runabout, Añejo, was in mint condition, varnished and polished to a showroom shine. We complimented their boat profusely, they appreciated our enthusiasm, and soon they offered to take us for a short spin on the river. What a treat! And what a lovely couple.

• Seeing such a variety of sights along the river: Cliffs, mountains, and wooded banks. Castles, monasteries, and genteel estates. Five lighthouses. And West Point, standing guard like a massive fortress with the river as its moat.

• Anchoring two nights on the Hudson and eating dinner in the cockpit under a full moon. One of those nights, we jumped in for a quick swim and got our first taste of salt water on this trip. The Hudson River is an estuary, and tides flow north as far as Troy, 150 miles upstream. According to the Indian name, it’s a “river that flows two ways.”

• Arriving in New York harbor, greeted by a chaos of wakes from every kind and size of boat. The marina where we are staying has a “wave attenuator,” but it can't quite keep up. We're happy that the water traffic has diminished and all is quiet now. When the ferries and water taxis were scurrying back and forth, though, our mast would swing like a pendulum. Ah, but the view! In late afternoon the skyscraper windows mirrored the light of the setting sun. At night, the city lights twinkle like a galaxy of stars. Tomorrow we'll play tourist in the big city.

Reflections of Beauty

September 19, Canajoharie, New York
We spent a night in Rome on September 17, and in keeping with the Italian theme, the next day we came upon an authentic Venetian gondola in the canal! We didn't hear any strains of "O Sole Mio" wafting across the water, but the gondolier does plan to row more than half of the length of the canal.

Our next stop was Little Falls, set along a waterfall in the foothills of the Adirondacks. Many of the buildings sit flush on the edge of granite precipices. The two-toned majestic cliffs that tower over us along the channel are a magnet to rock climbers.

We pass through a unique lock today. It drops us forty feet, the biggest drop on the Erie Canal. And it is also the only lock that, instead of having gates that swing outward, has a gate that lifts above our heads—all 120 tons of it—as we leave. It definitely drips on us…better by far than dropping on us!

Canajoharie has been high on our list since the beginning of this trip because of its library/art gallery with a famous collection of paintings by Winslow Homer and other American artists. When we stop here for the night, we’re disappointed to learn that the gallery is closed until its grand reopening in an expanded space on Sunday. Our timing leaves a little bit to be desired.

Instead we hike to a gorge just south of town to see the waterfalls and the “Boiling Pot,” a circular pool that the spring run-off swirls through. Canajoharie is an Indian word meaning “pot that washes itself.”

Chilly fall nights are followed by summer-hot days without a breath of wind. Unbroken blue sky and the entire spectrum of green reflect on the water surface. We leave mile after mile of beautiful scenery in our wake, thankful for glimpses of God’s beauty reflected in the world He made.

The Halfway Point

September 16, Baldwinsville, New York
Morning gilds the clouds with a rosy reflection on this glorious Sunday morning. The temperature overnight was our coldest so far, and the partly cloudy skies follow along as we go, obscuring the warming rays of the sun.

The canal widens and meanders between the natural banks of the Seneca River, alternately lined with cattails and grasses, draped with overhanging tree branches, piled with driftwood, and scattered with camping trailers.

About halfway through our day, we meet the towboat Urger (you’ve gotta love the name!), one of the New York Canal System working boats. We stay the night in Baldwinsville, New York, the exact halfway point between Lake Erie and the Hudson River.

Check out the Google map I've posted at the bottom of this page with the stops we've made along the way on our journay!

Local Delicacies

September 14-15, Lyons, New York
The doors to Lock 30 close behind us and a clever young heron lands on the gates and perches transfixed on the lowering waters. Fish trapped in the shallower depths become easy prey and he snaps up several delicacies.

We snap up some delicacies, too, at the Saturday Farmers’ Market in the delightful village of Lyons. Friendly local growers tempt us with colorful displays of ripened-on-the-vine tomatoes, deep purple eggplant, pure-white cauliflower, and oversized zucchini. We stock up on fruits, vegetables, and baked goods…and can’t resist a bouquet of fresh-picked flowers.

We love visiting these little towns, and it's good to take a day off. An extra day in Lyons gives Keith a chance to change the oil...and allows us to wait out the rain.

A Full Day

September 13, Fairport. New York
Light diffuses through mist hovering over the still water as the sun rises, lending a mystical quality to the early morning. We pass under the lift bridge as soon as the operator comes on duty and stop for breakfast in Medina forty minutes later. A ninety-nine-cent breakfast special had been offered at a restaurant four years earlier. Inflation has increased the price, though…by a dollar.

Soon after we start out again, we cruise along on the canal and look down on a road that passes underneath. It’s the only place where the road goes under the canal, an engineering wonder both then and now.

Herons, kingfishers, and ducks peer intently into the water, then dart for cover as we close in. Ahead, an osprey dives from eighty feet into the water then sails in front of us with a fish in its talons.

Along the western end of the Erie the old mule towpaths have been converted into paved walking and bike trails that extend for a hundred miles. Loren disembarks with a bike and a camera and rides for two and a half miles between stopping places to capture images of Pelican underway. (Check out our “Sanford and Sons” look.)

Ten hours after we leave Middleport, we arrive at the very popular destination of Fairport. In other towns where we’ve stopped, we've had only one companion. Here, we are one of a dozen boats. Maybe the three ice cream shops near the waterfront are the draw!

The Power of the Wind

September 12, Middleport, New York
Late last night a fierce storm blasted through Tonawanda, packing gusts up to 64 mph and snapping substantial tree limbs as if they were mere matchsticks. Keith and Loren scrambled to attach extra dock lines for insurance.

Today dawns bright and clear, cooled by a refreshing breeze. Dog days and record-breaking heat give way to rain and then crisp fall days with temperatures dipping overnight. Apple-laden trees and corn stalks radiate in neat rows from the red barns that dot the rural landscape. Small swatches of red and orange begin to decorate the lush green leaves on either side of the canal. The trees cling to rock ledges at the shoreline and we revel in God’s created beauty.

Our calm reverie is interrupted by an adrenaline rush when we enter the second lock at Lockport and are blown off the wall by the wind. We stage a dramatic show for the onlookers on the tour boat ahead of us—our second-most-exciting lock experience ever. They cheer when we secure our boat to the wall and lock down. No harm done.

The quiet little town of Middleport is our stop for the night. Stately churches, constructed in the mid-1800s of beautiful native sandstone and brick, anchor the street corners and bear solemn witness to the changes that have occurred over the past century. Dinner is delicious at the historic Basket Factory, originally a manufacturer of bushel baskets for farmers’ produce in the canal’s heyday.

On the Erie Canal

September 11, Tonawanda, New York
Keith’s parents rejoined us in Buffalo, and they came bearing bikes. We had won the bid on a pair of folding Dahon Boardwalk bikes, including bags, on eBay. The complication was that they had to be picked up…in Maine. Since Loren and Clairice were already planning a driving trip to Albany, at the east end of the Erie Canal, they very graciously offered to make a fairly lengthy side trip to Maine to retrieve the bikes.

Yesterday all the preparation for unstepping (taking down) the mast and placing it on deck provided a good workout. Today we arrive at Tonawanda, the western terminus of the Erie Canal, where a crane lifts the ponderous and unwieldy mast off the deck and dangles it into place on waiting sawhorses. Always a heart-pounding process with plenty of potential for damage, this time we sustain a small gouge in Keith's meticulously refinished bow pulpit wood trim. All of this so that our boat, whose mast normally towers to sixty-one feet, can glide under bridges that rise only fifteen feet from the water.

Pelican’s wings have been clipped again; she can no longer extend them to soar in the wind. But we can fly! We take the bikes on a ten-mile inaugural ride to West Marine (where else?) and have a blast! People seem to be admiring our new bikes. Or maybe they’re marveling at Keith’s multi-tasking abilities as he rides his bike while talking on his cell phone and carrying an eight-foot antenna (to exchange).

We’re looking forward to transiting the Erie Canal again. Last time we made this trip we really enjoyed the charming little towns along the way with their redeveloped waterfronts.

Off the Big Lakes

September 7, Buffalo, New York
We leave Put-in-Bay Thursday morning with the intention of making Fairport our next port of call ten hours later. A 20-knot blow gives us the chance to enjoy an exhilarating sail for three hours until the wind diminishes.

But Friday afternoon the winds are forecast to pipe up to 25 knots and the seas to five feet, with small craft advisories. So we put Plan B into place and continue through the night toward Buffalo to beat the weather.

During my second watch, a little smile of a crescent moon rises ahead and beams a golden path right to our boat. To me, it’s a reminder of God’s extravagant love that always surrounds us and His lavish faithfulness that always reaches out to us whether our sea is full of waves or mirror calm.

As we approach Buffalo, the water is churned into whitecaps. If we were heading the opposite direction, we would pound into the waves, but on this heading, with our jib unfurled, we comfortably surf following swells at speeds of up to 9.2 knots (compared to our normal cruising speed of 7 knots). All in all, the conditions are perfect for the sailing regatta taking place outside Buffalo harbor.

We arrive at our destination after thirty hours, happy to be off the big lakes for now.

All By Ourselves

September 5, Put-in-Bay, Ohio
We’ve only just begun this trip, but we already know that one of the highlights will be Sean’s visit over the weekend. We have a great time…sailing with Sean at the helm…touring the Edsel and Eleanor Ford home…hanging out n the cockpit and people-watching as a parade of boats comes and goes to the restaurant just across the channel well into the night.

Monday afternoon we drop Sean off at Detroit airport and Tuesday morning Keith’s mom and dad drive away toward upstate New York and Maine. Now Keith and I are on our own until we get to the Erie Canal.

Our boat dealer, Bob Reed, generously shares his time and expertise with us later on Tuesday. Anyone who has ever dealt with Bob speaks of him in glowing terms. He’s the first person to call if you’re in the market for a sailboat!

Today we depart the marina into a shroud of fog. Navigational buoys emerge from a dense gray background as we approach. After a few fleeting appearances, the sun forces the haze to retreat to the horizon. We motor past the Motor City and into Lake Erie. Its shallow depths warm to the September sun and sparkle turquoise in its rays.

We make it a short day and stop at Put-in-Bay on South Bass Island. A monument to Commodore Perry, who won the Battle of Lake Erie in these waters and turned the tide in the War of 1812, towers over the harbor. (We get a few history lessons along the way.) Keith and I walk around town past restaurants and gift shops and the “world’s longest bar.” This is a tourist resort accessible only by boat and ferry. On summer weekends, it’s a crazy party atmosphere, jam-packed with revelers. Midweek after Labor Day, it’s low key and lovely.

A Surprise Visitor!

August 31-September 1, St. Clair Shores, MI
We decide to run overnight from Presque Isle to Lake St. Clair. Keith’s dad seems to be in a hurry to be in St. Clair Shores by Saturday. Keith’s mom will join us there, and for some reason, she is uncharacteristically anxious for us to arrive. The weather seems to agree with her; it couldn’t be better for this passage and we have a very comfortable trip.

Around noon, we pull in to Jefferson Beach Marina, where we bought Pelican and dock at the Bob Seger’s slip. (The rock star is an avid sailor and happens to be a good friend of our boat dealer.) Mom has driven through Chicago and had lunch with Sean (or so the story went), and she shows up at 6:45 pm. It’s good to see her and we help bring her things aboard. A few minutes later, an unknown person steps onto our boat and opens the doors at the top of the companionway. A head pops into sight, and the face is familiar, but out of place. I’m so taken aback, that I blurt out, “Who are you?!” to my own son. They're not going to let me forget that for a very long time!
This is as good as it gets! We’re so thrilled to see Sean and spend Labor Day weekend with him. Now we know why Dad seemed a little pushy! They all wanted to surprise us, and they got us, but good!

This nine-month trip is a fantastic adventure and a tremendous blessing, and I'm very grateful. But at the same time, the thought of so much time away makes me feel very disconnected from family and friends. Having Sean join us for the long weekend is the perfect antidote!

Through the Soo

August 29-30 DeTour and Presque Isle, MI
Because we wake up early, we leave Grand Marais at 3:15 am. The winds are in our favor, but leftover swells rock us for six hours. It’s a Point A to Point B day, with DeTour as our destination. Fortunately, Whitefish Bay is kind to us, and when we arrive at the Canadian Locks we have no wait whatsoever. We pull in, the doors close, and the water level drops. It’s a nice ride down the St. Mary’s River and we tie up in DeTour at 8:25 pm.

On Thursday, we cross a glassy Lake Huron along the shipping lanes and see quite a few freighters. When we check in at Presque Isle Marina, they tell us we can borrow bikes, so we take a quick ride to the new lighthouse and climb its 130 steps for a great view of the surrounding area.

Pictured Rocks and a Pickle Barrel

August 28, Munising to Grand Marais, MI
A great reason to stop in Munising is that it is the portal to the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, the first lakeshore ever to receive that designation. Big tour boats run several cruises every day. As we hug the coast, we’re mesmerized by spectacular sandstone cliffs where varied mineral deposits have splashed the sunlit rocks with shades of red, blue, orange, green, white and black. Near the water, the waves have eroded stunning arches and caves and tumbled huge boulders into the water, creating masterpieces of colored rock formations.

Following this, we ride by ten miles of unbroken beach and then, after we pass Au Sable Lighthouse, we cruise along six miles of 400-foot Grand Sable sand dunes (where sand equals striated sandstone plus loose sand). The entire stretch of shoreline is breathtaking in its beauty.

Grand Marais (the other one) is an unexpected treat. It is home to the world-famous Pickle Barrel House. Between that and the Pictured Rocks, we take way too many pictures today.

Our Adventure Begins!

August 25-27, Bayfield, WI to Munising, MI

Saturday at 3pm we depart the dock of Pike’s Bay Marina accompan-

ied by Keith’s dad, Trygve. Soon the Apostle Islands recede into a flaming sunset, snuffed out by a clear, starry sky. An almost full moon brightens the night watches of our uneventful passage. We motor through early morning mist at the entrance of the Portage Canal on the Keewenaw peninsula and then fuel up at Houghton County Marina and leave within a half hour, heading for Marquette, Michigan.

Before August has breathed its last, the first blush of autumn red tints the treetops at the shoreline. On our way, we pass close by the stone block lighthouses set firmly on the monumental boulders of the Huron Islands and Granite Island and pull in to Marquette at 8:30pm. After a forty-five minute tie-up where it’s obvious that strong winds will smack us against a rough concrete wall all night, we decide we would rather be almost anywhere else and cast off again for Munising. At 3:15am, thirty-six hours after leaving Bayfield, we arrive. We sit tight for a day and a half and wait for the winds to shift.

Shakedown Cruise

In late July Keith had an unexpected opportunity to get back into practice for our upcoming trip. We visited the Niña (the replica of the caravel Columbus sailed) when it was docked in Ashland, Wisconsin, and before we stepped off the boat, Keith was invited to help crew her to Sault Ste. Marie. Was it the ponytail?? In any case, sailing on the high seas, 1492-style, was an offer he couldn't refuse!