New Adventures in the Bahamas
In early May, we left for the Bahamas with Buddy Boat, Sand Castle, marching from Boca Chica to Marathon to Bimini, where we checked in and enjoyed a brief stay at Bimini Sands, a nice marina, available, without entering the shallow Alicetown bay.
On Monday, May 11, 2015, we left Bimini for Lucaya, a destination we chose soley because of wind direction. For much of the journey, we screamed along, close-hauled in 15-17 knots of wind, the angle creating gusts of apparent wind to 23 knots, time to double reef the jib.
We arrived in Lucaya in time for Rick to replace one of our macerators, another fun task. Lucaya is a tourist town, filled with market stalls and industreous islanders calling out, "Come in and see what we got, pretty mama. What are you looking for? Wanta hat? We got beautiful hats for you, mama.",
Time to move on to Great Harbor. We motor-sailed across the Northwest Providence Channel onto the Bahamas Bank and anchored near Bullocks Harbor, protected from predicted easterly winds by the bulk of Great Harbor Island. We went inside to the marina the next day to contact our satellite phone company about problems we were experiencing. Turns out our phone was incorrectly programmed and with the help of a SKYPE call to California, we were able to reprogram it, restoring our email service.
The Bahamas are full of ambitious developments, glitzy private club houses and pools, restaurants and golf courses which, like fireworks , explode in bursts, linger momentarily, and fade, rapidly. Operating from the 60s to the 80s, the Great Harbor resort has gone the way of many others. The climate is demanding, and even though the clubhouse was built of stone and steel, the wooden beams and shake roof have succumbed to voracious termites and the tarry water barrier has melted and oozed onto floors below. Once peopled by the rich and famous, Bridget Bardot, the Rat Pack,, the club stands empty with the ghost of a bar remaining. The huge kitchen, once pumping out gourmet meals for Gregory Peck and Jack Nichlaus, lies hidden in the bowels of the structure, its 5 commercial stoves and tile walls still intact.
Sunday evening, the marina piles allcomers into a pickup truck anad transports us to a Bahamian BBQ to The Beach Club. Bahamian common sense doesnt waste any effort. Our order is written on a styrofoam container and tossed into a trash bag. As the BBQ cooks, they reach into the bag, fill a container, and call out your name to fetch your dinner. We partied with new friends at the beach bar, jammed with natives and visitors alike.
On Monday, May 11, 2015, we left Bimini for Lucaya, a destination we chose soley because of wind direction. For much of the journey, we screamed along, close-hauled in 15-17 knots of wind, the angle creating gusts of apparent wind to 23 knots, time to double reef the jib.
We arrived in Lucaya in time for Rick to replace one of our macerators, another fun task. Lucaya is a tourist town, filled with market stalls and industreous islanders calling out, "Come in and see what we got, pretty mama. What are you looking for? Wanta hat? We got beautiful hats for you, mama.",
Time to move on to Great Harbor. We motor-sailed across the Northwest Providence Channel onto the Bahamas Bank and anchored near Bullocks Harbor, protected from predicted easterly winds by the bulk of Great Harbor Island. We went inside to the marina the next day to contact our satellite phone company about problems we were experiencing. Turns out our phone was incorrectly programmed and with the help of a SKYPE call to California, we were able to reprogram it, restoring our email service.
The Bahamas are full of ambitious developments, glitzy private club houses and pools, restaurants and golf courses which, like fireworks , explode in bursts, linger momentarily, and fade, rapidly. Operating from the 60s to the 80s, the Great Harbor resort has gone the way of many others. The climate is demanding, and even though the clubhouse was built of stone and steel, the wooden beams and shake roof have succumbed to voracious termites and the tarry water barrier has melted and oozed onto floors below. Once peopled by the rich and famous, Bridget Bardot, the Rat Pack,, the club stands empty with the ghost of a bar remaining. The huge kitchen, once pumping out gourmet meals for Gregory Peck and Jack Nichlaus, lies hidden in the bowels of the structure, its 5 commercial stoves and tile walls still intact.
Sunday evening, the marina piles allcomers into a pickup truck anad transports us to a Bahamian BBQ to The Beach Club. Bahamian common sense doesnt waste any effort. Our order is written on a styrofoam container and tossed into a trash bag. As the BBQ cooks, they reach into the bag, fill a container, and call out your name to fetch your dinner. We partied with new friends at the beach bar, jammed with natives and visitors alike.
posted by Wind Dancer Cruises at
4:33 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home