A few days ago we enjoyed the company of friends from the island (Mount Desert Island, that is), in Hope Town for a short respite of theirs before they were off to pick up their family and a charter boat for a week. We had a lovely time together that included lunch at a great spot on the beach, ingeniously called “On Da Beach”. There was a bit of sea on with the recent easterlies, and our post-lunch swim meant a bit of body surfing, a few gulps of sea water, a lot of laughter, and holy smokes, SO much sand involved in the wave thrashing. Three days later I’m still wiping sand from my neck each time I move my head, as my ‘supply’ slowly loosens its way out of my scalp. The girls always reveled in how long they would find Bahamian sand in their hair after we returned home every year, but as the primary sweeper of Chickadee sole and cockpit, I AM NOT REVELING. I’ve showered, I’ve brushed. I shake my head while scratching every night like a dog, getting as much out to lessen the load I’m bringing to my pillow and our sheets. As I read I scratch my head, and my clothes become sand-filled. (Is there a fountain with an external source in my scalp that I’m unaware of?! Will it ever end?! I’m beginning to think not.) So, basically, I’m here to introduce the new me: Sand Fountain Susan. Don’t get too close if you’ve just applied lotion, it’ll hang on and cause you problems.
In non-sand news, we left Harbour Island and had a fish-less sail north, after which we put our reels away for the season. (We have bad luck only catching barracuda on the banks, so tend to relish only deep water options.) We managed to throw three messages in bottles, ate a lot, and then missed both our last ocean sunset and the moonrise due to the cloud cover and subsequent rain storm that ‘led us’ into the cut and to a protected anchorage. Exhausting end to a long day, but forever grateful for a free wash down!
We made our way to Hope Town where we had lots of Maine-folk visits, a couple of cockpit dinner gatherings, a day of biking, a hike to the top of the newly-painted Hope Town Light, tried rolled ice cream for the first time (delish), had some fresh seafood delivered boat-side, and even managed a barefoot pickleball set (very exfoliating). Hope Town always delivers, for sure.
We now venture north, still slowly, as our timing is still flush for more anchorages, hopeful snorkels and relaxing time on sweet Chickadee. Heading to Guana for a night, to check out the beach (keeping sand away from my melon all the while), and then to utilize Grabbers’ freshwater pool to attempt to surreptitiously free another few cupfuls from my scalp. What a ‘fun’ goal to guide us through the Abacos!
