PelicanPosts

Who Can Predict the Future?

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 01:52:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Fri, 23 May 2008 00:03:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Tue, 13 May 2008 00:51:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Tue, 06 May 2008 03:47:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Tue, 06 May 2008 03:09:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 23:39:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 01:46:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 01:45:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 01:31:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 02:01:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 01:31:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 15:41:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 15:31:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 15:00:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Sat, 05 Apr 2008 16:19:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 13:31:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 01:10:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 20:27:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 20:18:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 19:53:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 01:52:00 +0000

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!

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 14:04:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 03:07:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 02:57:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Joanie & Keith Garborg) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 02:50:00 +0000

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!