Despite our usual track record of staying on the move, we’ve been parked here off of Stocking Island near Georgetown since Tuesday afternoon, and we’re adjusting to the ways of the stationary cruiser: organized activities abound, and when we’re feeling less-than-organized, there is still plenty to do and plenty of people to meet.
The reason that we’ve been here this long is largely due to the high(er) winds that have been sustained out of the east for the last few days. As I sit and type in the cockpit tonight, we’re tracking back and forth on the anchor as gusts rail down over the island just off of our bow. We are certainly safe and sound, but the planning and navigation of the days are largely dependent on how wet we’d like to get on whatever upwind leg of our dinghy ride we have in the day.
School still dominates the mornings, and from there we plan the leg-stretching play. One afternoon we walked across a vast sand/salt flat at the base of the small hill/mountain that a large stone monument sits atop, and found large letters created with stones in the flats. Backing up a little we realized that they were boat names, and hiking to the monument proved to be the real lesson in the rock words: they are all perfectly visible (and fun to see!) from the top. Since our hike up, the kids have of course added our boat names to the mix, so we’ll have to hike again for photos to prove it.
We’ve had friends from home visiting on the ‘mainland’ (Great Exuma), and the winds have had them water taxi-ing our way to play in the lee of Stocking. We’ve explored the various beaches here and nosed around in some hiking trails, tasted the burgers and fish sandwiches at the various beach bars along the island, and have turned ourselves into beach volleyball players (and wow, do I use that term lightly) in the mean time. One particular bar (the Chat N’ Chill) is the gathering spot for cruisers, locals, and intrepid vacationers alike, and not only does it have a giant swing in the trees for the kids and a bar and grill for beach nourishment, it also has two volleyball courts that any out-of-shape and know-nothing fools like ourselves can waltz onto. It’s a blast, and though my legs and forearms end up screaming after five minutes, it’s an addictive way to look like a total ass while having fun with the kids.
We did take a break from volleyball one day to play beach baseball, which was equally as hard but just as much fun. A water ball and kayak paddle became our ball and bat, kids’ lifejackets and skim boards bases, and a whole lot of whooping and hollering rounded out the game for full effect. This whole running-in-the-sand thing however, is for the birds. Plovers, to be exact. (Legs. SORE.)
As the winds settle we’re looking forward to planning our next steps, and it depends on the usual variety of boat needs, crew interests and weather forecasts. We’ll likely make our way north in some capacity mid-week, and poke our way back through the lower Exumas slowly. We did get word that the yard in the Abacos where we were hoping to haul out is full, so onto Plan B, taking the boat back to the States for one more year. (We’re now higher up on the waitlist in Green Turtle for 2020.) Since that’s the option, we’re planning our work lists and upgrades to accomplish before next year’s trip, so that we can get even more things checked off before they’d potentially become a VAT charge here in the Bahamas.
Back to the breeze!
