Arriving in the Bahamas was a giant leap forward for us. We actually didn’t intend to stop here but rather wanted to sail straight through to the Caribbean. When the wind didn’t cooperate we picked Spanish Wells as our stopping point because it positions us nicely for the long passage into the Atlantic and the mooring field looked to offer protection from the predicted squalls. We were underway for less than two days and went less than 200 miles but this is our first foreign port on Escape Velocity and cause for celebration. We also reached the 3000-mile mark; actually that happened in Fort Lauderdale but we weren’t much in the mood for celebration there.
We didn’t go ashore when we arrived but took the time to tidy up the boat and ourselves and opened a beautiful bottle of wine for the occasion. We also dug into our precious stash of homemade pesto from deep in the freezer. These two things, the pesto, made from basil we got from our beloved CSA farm, and the wine, given to us by our dear friends and frequent dining partners Jeff and Marylyn, were some of the few things we brought with us from our old life. It seemed fitting to enjoy them at this moment and reflect on how far we’ve come. One thing you can say about us, we may take a long time to reach escape velocity but we almost always get there eventually.
The next morning we were visited by Bandit who came to collect our mooring fee. He was very friendly as I grilled him about the town and what to see and do, but I was puzzled by something he said. He told us this place is different from the rest of the Bahamas and when I asked how so he said people here are hard-working; they know that if they want something they have to work for it. He was kind of vehement and I thought it was a curious way to characterize one’s hometown to a visitor.
You’ll probably notice I’m still in my pajamas. It was a slow start to the day. I spent the morning trying to catch up on the laundry and Jack did a little barnacle rearranging on the hull. Yep, shoulda done that before we left Fort Lauderdale but better late than never. We also stitched up the cockpit enclosure where the zipper was broken just in case the predicted storms materialized.
I know, I know. Not very neat and the thread doesn’t match. It’s temporary, and that is seriously strong thread we bought for our previous boat and I’m not going to waste it.
Eventually we got ourselves together and dinghied ashore. I was struck at once to see that most of the people of this island are white. With blue eyes. Named Pinder. I’m going to have to look that up.
Fortunately, Spanish Wells is NOT the Bahamas in terms of culture and lifestyle. It really is not a good idea for cousins to marry.
Hope you can work your way south a little before a big jump off to the Caribe.
Congrats on getting across the Stream!