I was looking at a cruising guide the other day and discovered that nearby Cave Cay was once called Little Toucher’s Hole, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me chuckle out loud every hour or so since reading it. Did that person walk into the town office and declare that name with a straight face? (Also, IS there a town office?) And also also.. but why?! You can bet your bottom dollar that the first item on the new owner’s list the day it closed was to hit up that office once again. Inspect the structures? Check the cistern for leaks? That stuff can wait. We gotta rename this place, so Little Toucher’s Hole never again appears on a chart, a guide or a map.
I should note that while I am comfortable raining down judgement on others’ names, I’m not too great at it myself. It’s entirely likely that I would have named the island Isle McIslandface or something worse. But at the very least, someone else would have stopped me before Little Toucher’s Hole got to the top of the list, right?!
We haven’t moved very far (read: at all) since the last post, as it’s just too perfect here. At one point I jokingly said it was now deemed Susan’s Bay, since I love it so much, and that’s taken off with Violet. Violet’s Bay would be something similar, but with more snorkeling options right from the boat, and also with better WiFi.
Yesterday because we were so incapable of decision-making, we took a closed poll to see whether we should stay or go, the first of what could have been a few polls (if we ‘go’, where would we go?). The results were not surprising, as seen below.
After feeling a bit sad about not seeing any kid boats, and also realizing that Violet could care less if we did or not, we’re recognizing the freedom in making our own decisions (as well as our indecisions). It’s a nice change to only poll ourselves, and not have to factor others into any equation. Of course in all of these spots I keep thinking “Ruach would love it here!”, etc. etc. so as in everything, there’s an up and a down.
We seem to be on a stingray superhighway, and they drift by all day long, most of them quite large, and none seem to care about us swimming above them. We also have a resident barracuda (Barry), who is quite big and practices his very still lurking every time we get in the water. We were so docile yesterday (second Sunday, as we kept calling it), he was likely confused, and made an arc back and forth around the swim ladder for hours, waiting for activity to oversee.
We’ve also become rather acquainted with the remora (Ray- see what I mean about my naming?) who thinks our boat is a large shark, apparently. He was stuck to the keel the first time I jumped in after we anchored, and three days later, he’s still living the bottom paint dream. We fed him scraps from the steak I was preparing yesterday, and once those were gone, we gave him some bread to give him a taste of America’s real favorite treat, hydrogenated corn syrup. He loved it, but I can hear his doctor now: “Pre-diabetes, sir.” (Anthropomorphizing local fauna has taken over my lazy days, it seems.)
Between reading, crafting (I’ve been channeling my inner twelve year old self to make some killer bracelets), writing, swimming, paddling, cooking and eating, that’s all we seem to be good for, which feels great. Well and also, sleep. As we were admitting that we’re in bed by 8pm every night to a friend, he pointed out that it was natural, as 9pm is dubbed “cruiser’s midnight”, an hour we apparently are incapable of seeing. (The real trick V and I have every night is to get Andy to wait until 8p, as he’s often ready to tuck in in the 7s, an hour which we have deemed improper for bedtime.)
We’re off today, to sail… somewhere. We’ll hopefully know when the mood strikes!
In the mean time, Little Toucher’s Hole. Ha!
