Author: equinoxgardens@gmail.com

Whelp, our Bahamian adventure is coming to a close for 2018, and we were able to end it with a great mini-trip to the Berries. We had a slightly swelly but beautiful sail from Nassau to White Cay in the Berry Island chain on Monday, and between dropping anchor at 4:30 and the time the sun set a couple of hours later, we were already well-convinced that we made a good choice.

We dinghied to a beach on nearby Hoffman’s Cay to hike in to view the inland blue hole listed on the chart. We were expecting something maybe 20′ in diameter (like underwater blue holes we’ve seen); in reality it was 150′ across and our viewpoint was high enough on its edging cliff to give us more than a pause of shock. Since it was late in the day and the sun wasn’t directly overhead its ‘blue’ beauty wasn’t truly showcased, we vowed to return the next day for the full effect.

The timing was good for turtle feeding however, and we saw 5 or so milling around, swimming in and out of our line of site in the depths.

On our way back to the boat we parted a large school of eagle rays wih the dinghy’s path, so we stopped to watch them all around the boat, most likely feeding on the goods brought through the small cut between islands.

We were then off to White Cay and its beautiful sand beach for the onset of sunset, which completed our very full day with a gorgeous display.

Yesterday we opted for a reeeallly short school day (sorry, teachers!) to be able to maximize our time there. We packed up early and headed up the west side and around the northern tip of Hoffman’s Cay in the dinghy, where we found a beautiful beach on the ocean side. The swells had calmed, and it was a gorgeous day for flying along in the dinghy while seeing everything below with sharp clarity.

The beach itself was a treasure trove of sea glass, perfectly sized waves for body surfing, and beautiful coral heads just offshore. After a picnic and a serious haul of sea glass, we dinghied back around and paused on the vast expanse of sand bar for a dip in the wide open nothingness but sand and turquoise water. It was a spectacular experience, and the idea that we could practically walk the two miles back to our boat was intense as well.

 

We then made a run down to Chub Cay last night to better position ourselves for shoving westward this morning. The easterly component of the winds last night weren’t forecasted, so we endured our rolliest, most uncomfortable nights’ sleep to date, naturally the night we wanted a decent foundation of zzzs to get us through an overnight run tonight. Wind and Gulf Stream reports have us taking advantage of a window to cross, so we’ll spend the day and part of the night crossing the bank, and we’ll have mostly daylight for crossing the stream before landing in West Palm tomorrow afternoon. Ugh. Our attempts at finding the bright side are going poorly! Lily’s sweet excitement for seeing her people and being back in cold weather may give only slight glimmers of assistance. But… not yet.

It’s been a while since we had bars for any uploading of photos or posts, so hold on to yer hats while I plaster you with a photographic rundown of our last week or so.

Since Staniel we have been to Cambridge Cay, through the incredible Pipe Creek (absolutely stunning trip winding through the islands flanking it), Compass Cay (NOT the most welcoming of places), a beach day on the northern end of Pipe Cay, the southern anchorage of Warderick Wells, Hawksbill Cay, and now we are at Highborne Cay, which is almost the northern tip of the Exumas chain.

We’ve done a lot of snorkeling on this trip, which is such a treat, and so much easier to swallow as an activity now that we’ve honed our pre-snorkel routine (i.e. get wetsuits on before piling massive amounts of gear and all four of us into our overstuffed dinghy). Violet is a crazy diving fish, and is the first one in and the last one out every time, and Lily is gaining confidence that there probably won’t be a shark around every corner. We’re adding more to our mental reef fish catalogs every trip, and my marine biology dorkditude is coming on full strength. What’s known as the Sea Aquarium near Cambridge Cay was insanity- huge schools of fish everywhere we turned, and the diversity in coral was like nothing we’ve seen yet.

The kids’ beach play has morphed a bit every time we go ashore- one day a house, one day a bakery, and most lately, a farm. ‘Crops’ are planted and tours are given, and their imaginative play continues to blow my mind and warm my heart. Goes to show what happens without screens!

Every Exumas Land & Sea Park island has a mini guide map indicating snorkel sites and trails ashore, which often lead to ruins of various settlements. We’ve done a bit of hiking, and while we cower from a potential poisonwood thwack along the overgrown trails, I’ve learned that a) I need a machete, and b)… I just really need a machete. I’d be okay with the flora trying to grab onto me as I walked IF I was 100% that it wouldn’t result in blisters (see Andy’s poisonwood experience from last year for detail), but… I’d feel safer with a machete.

Today we split from Ruach, and we’re all a bit down this morning as we consider the days ahead without them. Our routine together grows fairly tight, especially as the girls are concerned, and their every minute hangs on the next ‘Martin and Maeve’ meet-up, so I imagine that today and tomorrow are going to be a bear.

We DO have distractions though. We’re currently on the lovely Highborne Cay, living it up at their marina for the moment. As it’s a private island, access to it is as a marina guest only (though they have day pass/landing fees as well), but wow, they have rolled out the red carpet. The island is pristine, and has bikes to use, kayaks and paddle boards on every beach for use, a swing in the middle of a swimming lagoon, a well-stocked store, a restaurant, showers, a playground, grill decks on every turn of the marina docks, and Lou, a giant macaw, who doesn’t say too much, but the girls are hooked on finding out what exactly it might be.

Today we’ll head back to Nassau to do a final Bahamian provision, laundry session, etc. Then up to the Berries, and possibly Bimini, on our way back west. The countdown to the end is upon us, really, but to have so much fun on our plate until then is exciting. We’ve never been to the Berries, or Bimini for that matter, and with light winds from the east, we’ll have great weather for long slow sails, or slightly faster motor sails, comfortable either way. We’ll also have more snorkeling on the docket, more island exploration, and a few more games of Uno in there as well, if we’re lucky.

Until then!

We were one of five boats in the anchorage at Staniel when we first arrived about ten days ago. The yacht club restaurant and bar was so empty, I was sure it was on its way to inevitable closure, as the stories of neighboring businesses made it sound as if it was a foregone conclusion.

Fast forward to two nights ago as we dinghied back to Chickadee after a barbeque ashore- the bright stars overhead made a crystalline blanket, which blended into a horizon with a sea of anchor lights. We were at that point anchored among dozens of other boats, and the ‘next door’ Big Majors Cay’s anchorage had another fifty twinkling away.

We wait anxiously for the mail boat to bring the fresh produce and dairy, and then we rush the stores to get what we need before other cruisers clear the shelves. Inflatable ribs packed with tourists from Nassau buzz this way and that all day (offering a reaalllly long-sounding day trip to snorkel at the Grotto, and experience the ‘pig beach’ on Big Major before turning around and heading back); megayachts speckle the horizon at the rear (read: deeper part) of each anchorage and dispatch large tenders of revelers doing the same; we recently ate dinner at the same yacht club bar with our plates practically in our laps for the hoardes of people packing it, and cruisers, cruisers are everywhere! Everyone came out of the woodwork in a four day window.

Strangely enough, despite so many floating neighbors, every beach we’ve parked ourselves on each afternoon has been empty, save for our own crowd of wild children, kayaks and gear. It was great fun to spend time in the area, exploring the island a bit deeper with each shore visit, and yet I am happily anticipating today’s sail back into the quieter islands once more.

Routine defines boat life, and my sanity almost always. We bade goodbye to our friends yesterday, and tucked into our favorite of year round events: Friday Night Movie Night. The girls pick the movie, at times at odds requiring some bargaining, and we settle in with snacks in lieu of dinner, and plenty of popcorn. Having that family gathering lead into a weekend of NO SCHOOL (can you see the excitement there?!?) is a dream.

“TGIF!” is a legitimate exclamation onboard between Susanne and me (the onboard ‘teacher/moms’), whereas at home I imagine this phrasing is used most earnestly by real teachers as they watch our kids file out of their classrooms for that sweet weekend reprieve. For all that boating life gives us, its one handcuffing experience is the less-than-wonderful school time  dynamic between me and the girls at least twice a week. I’m determined to figure it all out, but it’s been an interesting learning curve of frustrations, fear of not doing well enough, and annoyance at our often opposing levels of patience. What was my mantra suppose to be, again?

After NOT having school today (Saaaaaturday!!), we’ll have breakfast and head up to Compass Cay. We’ve seen our southernmost point of the year’s trip, and will slowly wind our way back up the chain. The future is still unknown for us, since we’re throwing around different ideas of how and where we’ll end up. We may haul in the Abacos this year to see if we like it enough to continue (it would buy us more time in the Bahamas and less time in the brown waters of the Okeechobee), or we may still swing through the Abacos on our way back to Florida. Lots of good options to explore, and in the mean time, lots of beautiful anchorages to see and poke around in.

Valentine’s Eve. A date I’m acutely aware of thanks to Violet’s countdowns for the past two weeks. The girls is a crafting machine, and our boat has been a maker space for all things felt, yarn and paper and paint. The storing of the subsequent crafts is the newest Tetris game of the season, especially since Violet doesn’t want us to see anything yet. (I’m guessing that she’ll forget about 60% of her pieces, and we’ll find them when we go to unpack the boat, crammed under cushions and behind books on the shelves.) I’m anticipating tomorrow to be like a craft fair onboard- swapping homemade goods for one another’s treasures (plus, Mom may have bought some chocolate..).

We’re still in Staniel Cay, and yet every day we’re still finding different things to do. Our friends from Maine have arrived, staying onshore, and together with the Ruach crew we’ve found our favorite beach of the island, one at the north end called Pirate Trap. It has a sliver of snorkeling on the south side, and a giant basin to the north, with breakers from the ocean side beating over it to refresh the ‘pool’. Plus, great shady trees for the parents, and nooks and crannies for the kids to play.

The beach time Family Game has this year morphed into Store & Restaurant, with Violet manning the counter at her bakery while Maeve runs the more formal dining room. Yesterday Lily and a new friend created a taco bar and Italian restaurant (hmm), and Andy and I found ourselves enjoying a lovely meal of spaghetti and meatballs, seaside. If I could push the pause button for these kids and their imaginative play I would in a second. I love that their currency is casuarina seed pods and sea grape leaves, chopped up casuarina needles can be anything from shredded cheese (taco bar) to shaved chocolate (I had a delicious chocolate mousse trifle at Violet’s bakery), and that they all help each other expand upon their possibilities. Lucky kids, lucky parents.

Three kids from a boat that we met in Black Point are now here in Staniel, and the whole family was excited when we saw their boat come in. Two girls, twelve and ten, and their nine year old brother have completely melded into our four, and to spend another beach day with them was a treat.  (Lucky kids, lucky parents.)

Today’s school day will end as yesterday’s did, with art class. I taught Lily to knit a few days ago, and she’s taken to it, while Violet has been watercoloring. If it weren’t for the time crunch of St. Valentine’s most enthusiastic elf (Violet), art would come and go as it pleased onboard, fairly often, but this week, it’s mandatory post-school procedure.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! If you come on down, Violet has something for you.

A couple of days anchored in a bright swath of sand just south of the Thunderball Grotto (named and made famous by the James Bond movie) was exactly what we needed to revitalize and replenish all required resources, save for food. The mailboat coming from Nassua twice-ish a week has a different arrival day and time depending on which shopkeep or fellow cruiser we speak to, so we’re making do with what we have, cooking and eating until our freezers and veggie bins are empty, and hope that a boat arrives before it’s rice and beans every night. (Not that I’d have a problem with that, really!)

On the flip side, we did our laundry (in a laundromat/bar combo- brilliant idea), filled our water tanks, topped up the dinghy fuel, and found the Staniel Cay Yacht Club to be a great place for fish sandwiches and dark n’ stormys.

We dinghied around to nearby Big Major Cay’s main anchorage and saw the odd Bahamian phenomenon that is swimming pigs. Tour boats from Nassau has this as one of their ‘must see’ stops, and visitors from around the world hop into the water to see the true amusement of farm animals on a beach. None of us could quite reconcile what was so interesting about it, and yet, I took pictures to capture the experience all the same! We were warned that they could be aggressive and that their hooves have punctured dinghy pontoons, but all in all we found them to be mainly just curious, and hungry for the carrots the tour groups brought with them. They acknowledged our open palms as ‘I don’t have any food for you’, and turned away in annoyed disappointment, but that was it. We did have one swimming for us as we climbed into the dinghy, and I must say we hauled our anchored and reversed off the beach with greater swiftness than usual, but ultimately I think that I can sum up our swimming pigs experience with: weird, a little bit sad, and pretty unnecessary in the scheme of things.

We also snorkeled the Thunderball Grotto while at Staniel, and once again, hidden cave snorkeling proved incredible. This one has many chambers to explore, and a number of diving points to regain access to the outside, making for shafts of light streaking in from various angles, and good water flow for the schools of fish lurking within and around. Andy risked a wet phone to haul the drybag in for photo opportunity, and we’re so glad he did- it commemorated a great afternoon for all of us.

We’re now anchored in Black Point Harbour on Great Guana Cay, finishing up schooling before meeting a large clan of boat kids on the ocean beach this afternoon. There are at least four other ‘kid boats’ in the harbor here, and we tend to glom onto one another pretty quickly in order to keep our littles socialized.

On a schooling note, I’m surprised to announce that V has been the stubborn student this time around- reading and writing now with fluency, her demands from me are greater, and her attitude seems to fluctuate with the tide. As the chief dramatist of the family, my plight is the manage her whines and grumpy moods and coerce her into work, all while clenching my toes under the table and trying to stifle wails of frustration. Holy smokes, I can say it until I’m blue in the face- teachers are saints, and their levels of patience should be bottled and sold. In the end, she always pulls it together and produces great work, but man, the process… maddening.

 

My not-so-secretive plan has been to try and talk every cruising/teaching parent we meet to take on my kids during their session, but alas, to no avail. (Of course I’m ultimately kidding, but that seems like such a lovely option, doesn’t it?) It is comforting to know that the mental torture I put myself through to get through the schooling some days is a shared experience; not that I appreciate others’ suffering, but the perspective it gives my tired head is somehow soothing. And, perspective being what it is, it’s a short amount of time in each day and a small price to pay for the opportunity to be here, so remembering that is key, and a good mantra to recite. Who’s whining now? (Me.)

Long lapse without service of any kind, but no shortage of beautiful sights and fun-filled days, to be sure. It’s amazing how life keeps happening even in the void of internet service!

We had a great downwind sail from Nassau to Norman’s Cay last Tuesday morning, and despite the seas making it a rockin’, rollin’ day, we made great time and Andy had a blast at the helm. Norman itself was another rocky, rolly situation, due to the still-stiff winds (sustained 20-25 kts with gusts to 30) and a strong current pulling through the anchorage that was at times in combat with the wind direction. Having the wind on the beam and the subsequent chop while at anchor was interesting, to say the least. We did head ashore and the kids found and created their first beach house for the Family Game, which they had been excited to dive into once more.

We headed just south to Shroud Cay the following day, a quick hop. Shroud is gorgeous- on the east side (of all of these cays) there are low coral cliffs punctuated by bright white sandy beaches. An occasional palm or casuarina stands taller than the low mangroves, but even the trees are diminutive here, which for whatever reason makes it very inviting to me. Shroud is the northernmost island in a string that comprises the Exumas Land & Sea Park, and the knowledge that there aren’t any homes, and the possibility of less trash, is also a plus.

We dinghied to a beach in a cove of sorts, and ferried the kayaks and our new stand up paddle board with us, looking like a clown car strewn with trailing bit and pieces on the way. Naturally, the tide completely emptied the basin, and no kayakying or paddle boarding was to be done, but the adults set up chairs and read while the kids made a new house for the game. Voila! Instant happiness. “Cheese and crackers”, aka the phrased request for the families to merge in one cockpit or another at cocktail hour, occurred aboard Chickadee on Wednesday night, and we enjoyed a lovely sunset together while the kids worked on the film that they’re making. We were shown the trailer, and are in heightened anticipation of the release- lots of intrigue and catchy tag lines woven into some intense footage. These kids have a future.

Thursday after another successful school morning (I’m hesitant to mention the success, lest I jinx our string of good work), we loaded into the dinghies and headed north to the cut through the mangroves. As we learned last year winding through Manjack’s mangrove mazes, we could easily spend a lot of time puttering slowly through the twisty waters. Herons hiding in the exposed roots, tropical fish darting below, and the occasional sea turtle or lemon shark going by makes for perfect entertainment for the ride. This particular pathway spilled out into a truly breathtaking scene: the trough that sliced from one side of the cut to the other as we motored along gutted deeper into a brilliant deep blue just as it eddied into the bright turquoise shallows of the easterly (oceanside) beach expanse. We beached our boats and unloaded onto our day’s space. The kids found their newest building site, the adults again found their perches, and all was right in the world.

Along the way in we were surprised to see three healthy looking dogs bark at us while motoring through, but as our journey was long, they faded into the landscape and we thought nothing more of them. (Well, I did, but I’m a dog nut, missing my hound at home..) At one point our peace was shattered by the screams of all four kids, and just as we were trying to discern joyful shrieks from fearful, a stream of kids and dogs pealed around the corner, laughs and tail wags combined. And just like that, we were the ‘proud’ ‘owners’ of three dogs. The kids christened them Oak, Neptune, and, best of all Kathy, for some reason. They were healthy-enough looking, and clearly starved for attention, so we spent our time trying to figure out their provenance on the island, and what their future potentially looked like. (I would like it to be aboard the good ship Chickadee, but captain Andy is not as into that plan as you might think.) Our departure was interesting, as poor Neptune was all but jumping into our dinghies and chasing us, with a continuous ‘take me with you’ series of barks. A wee bit sad, and we’ve all woken up thinking about them. (Post script dog note: we learned from park headquarters that these little hounds are opportunists at their best. They live on nearby Pigeon Cay, and swim over to Shroud at low water to act adorable and take in as much extra love and food as possible. Whew. (If that’s true, which I’m choosing to believe that it is…))
Warderick Wells was our next stop, which is the official park headquarters for the Exumas Land & Sea park. The anchorage alone is incredible- a giant horseshoe-shaped trough of deep (11’) water with moorings spaced out along the ‘U’. The center is a giant island of sand at low water, which is wonderful in that it makes for a great babysitter. On the first afternoon we dropped the kids off to play, and came back to our boats (just 20m off our beams) to have a drink and prepare dinner. The following day everyone we saw asked if those were our kids on the bar- they laughed at our ingenuity, and thanked us for the entertainment. It was like Kid TV for all surrounding, since they were busy digging up sand dollars and using them as currency (sand dollars, get it?!) in the grocery store that they had fashioned out of a few drip castles and freshly dug troughs.

We have hiked the trails, tested the beaches, snorkeled at a few different spots (though briefly- the reefs here are small), the kids got our money’s worth on the paddle board, and enjoyed a boater’s cocktail hour on the beach closest to headquarters, put Chickadee’s board up in the pile of boaters’ paraphernalia atop Boo Boo Hill, and watched rays and nurse sharks weave in and around our boat and over the sand bar for hours on end. Warderick Wells gave us much to be thankful for indeed.

From Warderick we moved on to Cambridge Cay, where we had our most packed day to date: after school we jumped into the dinghies and snorkeled around and in two amazing grottos hidden within a small island. A quick dip under a rocky overhang and we were within an amazingly carved out theatre, open to the sky and showcasing stalagmites and stalactites all around. We stood in the soft surge and gaped in admiration of mother nature, and with pride that all four of the kids braved the mini duck into darkness to see the wonder on the inside. Another quick dinghy ride brought us to Compass Cay, where we wended our way up a shallow stream until it deepened into a pool with the look of little going for it. That is, until the sea surge blasted waves over a small lip and roiled the waters of the pool to a bubbly froth. We stood and were sprayed and waked again and again, like watching a predictable yet not-so-predictable tv show, all eight of us staring out and listening in anticipation of the next wave. From there we added more to the day by running home to dump snorkel gear and swapping it for beach things, since we were back on Cambridge to check out the oceanside beach for sea glass (and if I’m being honest, chapters 13-16 of my book). While there we scrambled up the side of Bell Rock, which was wee but quite steep, and afforded us an expansive view of the near islands, and our boats to boot.

Just in case we hadn’t had enough going on, the kids decided to take the kayaks for a spin when we got back to the boat, and Andy followed suit on the paddle board. Shortly afterward, Ruach had a reef shark circling their boat, and Dan jumped into their dinghy to go haul the kids home before they were made dinner by the waiting ‘guest’. Fun with wildlife!

At this point most our important needs are coming closer to true necessity- our lazerette is filling with trash, our sheets are uber-sandy and salty, the need for email and internet is reaching a peek for us on multiple levels, we’re about to switch to our smaller water tank, we’re running out of bread, and only have three sticks of butter left (for those of you who know me, you can imagine how this ramps my anxiety); it’s time to head to some sort of civilization soon. (Note: Made it to Staniel Cay, which checks some of those boxes, but not the wifi one- photos to come soon!)

Well, we finally left the Atlantis nest. The glitter is gone, though the glitz is not yet forgotten, and we indeed milked it to the last second. We spent yesterday morning doing the final loads of laundry, taking long hot showers, topping off water tanks, and then lounging at the pool just behind our boats (which clinched the ‘swim at least once in each of the dozen-plus pools in the resort’ goal) until we needed to shove off. This allowed for testing of the new snorkel masks (i.e. the lastest in the Storm Trooper Water Wear collection), and a little Sunday rest before reminding ourselves how to use our anchors and dinghies.

Once we settled into our new spots between Paradise and New Providence islands, seven of us went ashore to walk into Nassau. (Andy, meanwhile, went back to the finals of the Pure Silk LPGA tournament, where he spent the afternoon as a complete tourney groupie, loving every minute of it.)

From our dive marina bar/dinghy tie-up spot we walked through a worn and battered part of town to get to the Straw Market, and I was amazed at how quickly crumbling buildings, broken windows and graffitied walls turned into shiny, new Rolex and Cartier shops. We wandered through the market, were hounded by vendors, and eventually sat to have the girls’ hair braided. We then walked a bit further into the world of cruise ship terminal madness, and my goodness, the sights.. Let’s just say that I saw more than three leather superhero thong bikinis and stilettos, and walking through the hordes was an adventure. The cruise ship workers must love the subsequent returns from the port stops.

As we were walking back to the dinghy, one of the shop tenders came out to wag a sample in our faces. “Would you ladies like to have something beautiful?” the coifed woman asked us. “Uh, no, we need something rugged and affordable!” Lily responded. That’s my girl.

Today is back to routine, and school will begin after breakfast. It’s been going well so far, but we’ve also had decent wifi to intersperse the fun web-based modules that has kept the kids interested. Time will tell how well I can keep the excitement up! Lord knows that the ‘lure’ of needing to go to the grocery store this afternoon isn’t going to be the hook that draws them into action..

Tomorrow we’ll shove off early for a trip to Norman Island- until then!

The fun thing about being tucked in to wait out the weather in a giant spectacle of a resort is that there are endless opportunities for activity, education, and best of all, people watching.

I’m presently sitting in the sunshine at the edge of the lap pool at the fitness center while Lily attempts to talk herself into getting into the chilly water for some swim team laps and flip turn practice.

The past three days have been spent in a blur of action: we have ridden rapids, gone down scary water slides, walked around the casino, viewed sea turtles, dolphins and sawfish in the various aquariums around the property, enjoyed the movie theatre (although Susanne and I opted for a late-night showing of It on Friday, for which I am extremely regretful) and checked out kids’ events while also tending to work items and schooling, remarkably. Since we’re in a marina, our five main boat life considerations (water, holding tank, provisions, laundry, data/internet connection) are easily met, so we’re able to relax into the amusement a bit.

We are in the low-rent district of the marina, which means that we have a ‘short’ half mile walk along the docks to the resort. We’re able to call a golf cart for transport if we’d like, but it’s also fun to a) get some exercise for once, and b) stroll past the dozen-plus megayachts that have also come in to wait out the wind. Having worked that beat (albeit on a much smaller scale) for years we know the scene well enough.  While those deck settees and stewardess service looks heavenly, it’s really comforting to know that we’re here doing this on our own terms, and if I don’t want to buff and polish the lido deck every day, I sure don’t have to. (Note: There is no lido deck aboard Chickadee, and if there was, I’m sure I’d at least keep it tidy.)

Today is for a bit of schooling, much to the chagrin of the kids (we’re wanting to make up for our days lost while crossing), and then a check of the massive daily schedule for the resort. It’ll include lifesize Candyland, Andy’s viewing of today’s LPGA Silk Tournament matches, attendance of the kids’ movie at the theatre later, and will also be peppered with water play, watching the dolphins in the cove, and more gawking. Always with the gawking.

After shoving off from Miami Harbor at 6am on Tuesday morning, we bucked our way out of the harbor and settled into the rhythm of our trip. Settling seas and wind unfortunately on our nose (Andy constantly reminded me that gentlemen do not go to weather, and yet…), we plugged along and made it out of the Gulf Stream and to the bank by about 3:30pm. Coming back onto soundings so suddenly is an amazing thing- thousands of feet to 20 in a blink of an eye. Deep blue all around to startling turquoise with views of the bottom makes for a serious change in scenery. Starfish, grass, and best of all, dolphins! We had a visit by one in particular, who played in the bow wake for quite a while before zooming off. It was amazing to watch it watching us, and I imagine that after a bit it was thinking “These slow pokes have boring bow wakes. I’m off to find some sport fishermen.”.

In other news, I read two books, did puzzles, taught Violet how to make a friendship bracelet, which she picked up quickly and voraciously, we played hangman, ate like it was our job, and watched Fantastic Mr. Fox in the cockpit just after sunset, which was a treat. I captured my new favorite line for the kids, thanks to Meryl Streep’s delivery which cracks me up so much: “If what I think is happening is happening… it’d better not be.” I can barely think of a situation that this does not apply to.

Ruach beat us to the marina, but saved us a slip right next to them, and as soon as we were checked in with customs and the marina office, we went off into Atlantis’ world of overstimulation and glitz. Violet and I did a river rafting trip in an inner tube while Lily, Martin and Maeve repeatedly did a nearly-vertical water slide that ended in them shooting through a shark tank before dumping them into a pool. It looked ridiculously unnecessary, but they were more than charged up to do it again and again. Of course, I ended the day on a water slide that gave me a sinus enema I wasn’t quite prepared for and spent the rest of the night trying to stand up straight within the confines of my roiling head, but hey! This stuff is a blast, right?!

It poured last night, which was a blessing in that it was a free and easy deck wash, and today is grey and windy. We’ll go check out the aquarium and inner workings of the resort, before likely being dragged back into the water park components by our dogged daredevils.

First though- school for the minions!

**Wordpress is trying my patience with a new update encouraging photos not to rotate when asked. Stand by while I harangue them for assistance…

Violet is always good for a great line, and yesterday was no exception. After a day of going up and down the companionway steps a dozen times while underway, always asking about geographical whereabouts, by the afternoon she was exasperated: “It keeps looking like we’re in the same place!” And she’s right. While it’s hypnotic gazing at the gigantic houses along the intercoastal for days on end, everything starts to blur, and unique architectural components lose their shine. Even the 100 foot yachts seem small and less interesting held up to their 200+ ft peers. Amazing what perspective can do amidst this opulence!

We lost our shine when we anchored in Middle River in Ft. Lauderdale after a long day on the water, and were immediately visited by the police, telling us that no matter what the cruising guide said, we were not to anchor there overnight. We instead used it as a parking space for a quick shopping trip, and one soaking dinghy ride later (much to Andy’s chagrin, we opted for the worst weather window possible to get ashore since we were trying to hustle to weigh anchor before sundown and another visit by the authorities), we found ourselves mall-side.

I was instantly reminded of a time about 20 years ago, when a friend of mine joined my father and me for a leg of a southbound trip on our sailboat. Upon arrival in Miami, my dad hauled us into town to eat. While we were dressed for tacos and burgers, he opted for a much higher end venue, and as we watched the coiffed patrons make their way to the door, we held each other back, aghast at our appearance. Since there was little we could do about our salt-streaked, wrinkled clothing, we picked and preened at one another like apes in the reflection of the neighboring storefront, an image I’ll never shed. I remember very little from the meal itself, a testament to either over-exhaustion from the trip, or how much we must have had to drink to get through the embarrassment of our situation.

Though a Williams-Sonoma and a Finish Line shoe store didn’t quite necessitate the dress code of a fine dining restaurant, memories flooded back as our octet squeaked and dripped our way through the bright, shiny mall amidst sensibly dry shoppers. The flip flops were the worst. I’ve started calling V “Little Mouse”.

A few key mall essentials, a quick motor around the corner to a legitimate anchorage, and bam, that was our first Ft. Lauderdale experience of the season. We woke up this morning and caught an early opening at our first bridge, and worked our way south to where we now sit, just south of Belle Isle near Miami Beach.

The trip today was much more varied- wider openings in the waterway with little islands dotting the bulges to the north of the city, blue-ing water, and the busy basin of Miami with plenty of activities to ogle.  As soon as we anchored we launched the girls’ kayaks and they were off, splashing and carrying on in the many wakes of passing jet skiers and speed boats. We have a weather window for crossing that starts early tomorrow, so Andy changed the fuel filter and did a few tasks in preparation for our trip, and then we were off to explore.

Through a canal system we were able to make our way to a dinghy tie-up spot not too far of a walk to South Beach, so we made that our goal for the afternoon. Plenty of people watching en route, and plenty more on the beach itself, where the girls took advantage of their first beach day and dove right in.

Now I sit in the cockpit while the lights of the city surround us, and the planes take off overhead in a constant eastward march. I love this city and the fact that we can be so close to so much action yet so removed out here on the water. The thick sliver of the moon is rising through the clouds over a multi-colored skyscraper across the bay, and the bands are starting to play here on the beach side. The night is young for many, but is a great-grandmother aboard Chickadee; good night!

*We’re heading straight for Nassau, a roughly 30 hour trip, so don’t expect an update until Wednesday night or Thursday!