Waking in the night last night for my routine “we went to bed quite early and I’ve had my six hours so NOW what” schtick, I realized that it was close to prime time for viewing Comet C/2022 E3, which I had been reading about earlier in the day. Balancing on a winch and trying to put the binoculars to my sleep-worn contacts, I swiped around in the sky for a bit in the general area of Polaris, and had no luck. I determined, as I crawled back into bed just moments later, that I’d have made one hell of an astronomer. Perseverance and patience through and through. And we astronomers can blame things on the moon being too bright, I’m pretty sure.
We now sit on a familiar dock in Man O’War cay in front of a friend’s house. One week out and we haven’t been at anchor yet; I’m starting to twitch, but it’s been nice being able to visit with people as we make our way through the Abacos. It’s just remains a battle with wind (the hatches are pretty much designed for airflow only coming from the bow, in case that’s not obvious) and the bugs. Violet’s patchwork of baking soda paste to soothe her no-see-um bites is starting to make her look like a chicken pox patient with no hope for recovery.
We had a really lovely shoot across/down from Treasure Cay yesterday. No wind for sailing, but one of those rare-in-the-winter flat calm days on the Sea of Abaco where you can see the bottom far out beyond the boat. To come into Man O’War just as an explosive sunset lit up the sky was a welcomed topper.
Despite best efforts of errands and tracking down the air freight company in Treasure yesterday, our package/part did not arrive, so we’re sort of dancing around within a ferry’s reach until we sort out another plan. Throw in some strongish easterlies this weekend, and Hope Town is our likely plan, if we can find a mooring. No hook, but at least we’ll be swinging in the breeze!
