Lessons From Abaco

Top Ten Reasons Hurricane Season is Like Christmas 10. Decorating the house (boarding up windows) 9. Dragging out boxes that haven't been used since last season (camping gear, flashlights) 8. Last minute shopping in crowded stores 7. Regular TV shows pre-empted for "specials" 6. Family coming to stay with you. 5. Family and friends from out-of-state calling. 4. Buying food you don't normally buy . . . and in large quantities 3. Days off from work. 2. Candles. And the number one reason Hurricane Season is like Christmas . . . 1. At some point you know you're going to end up with a tree in your house!

 

I know exactly what the people in the Abacos are doing today. They're sweeping up, fixing up, and "manning up". They sure aren't waiting for some government agency to come and help them or tell them what to do. They already know, they've done it before. On their own…with a little help from their friends.

Six years ago I was living on my sailboat in the Abacos, Bahamas when Hurricane Francis decided to pay a visit. I'd never been through a hurricane before and I'll admit this girl from Kansas where tornadoes wreak their havoc, usually in the middle of the night with little advance warning, held some disdain for a storm that announced its arrival well in advance. One of the first questions you encounter when you decide to live on a boat is "What are you going to do if you find yourself in a hurricane?" so you read everything you can get your hands on about the subject in the hopes that you'll never have to use that knowledge. But there I was with a hurricane bearing down so now it was time to put the disaster plan in action.

We were in Marsh Harbour at the time, at a little marina called the Port of Call. Hurricane Frances was still about a week out and in all probability would veer from its expected path and miss us all together. And there was a big party planned at Baker's Bay that everyone, and I mean everyone was going to. For a change, the cap'n and I decided to listen to our heads instead of our livers and decided to skip the party. You see, we weren't supposed to still be in the Abacos. We were supposed to have been long gone from that chain of islands and be clear down in Venezuela waiting out hurricane season somewhere south of latitude 12. Alas, the tides of friends and parties had kept our docklines tied firmly to the Abacos and now we found ourselves without a prearranged hurricane hole to "hole-up" in. We knew we didn't want to stay at the dock, we'd seen enough videos of marinas during a hurricane on the weather channel and we didn't trust the holding well enough to anchor in "Mushy Harbour". Luckily, we managed to score the last mooring ball available in Hope Town on Elbow Cay and instead of putting off the inevitable for one more day (or two or three depending on the severity of our hangovers) we skipped the party and started making our boat hurricane ready. We used the information we'd gleaned from years of reading about the upcoming momentous event and more importantly we listened to others that had been through hurricanes before.

We moved the boat to the safe harbor of Hope Town while all of our friends were moving theirs to Man-Of-War cay which was considered to be safer. We had waited too long to secure a place over there. We took all of the sails down and stowed everything that was possible down below. If it could move, it was tied down, if it could chafe, it was wrapped. With Francis still a couple of days out, we found ourselves sitting in our bare cockpit with nothing left to do but worry while all of our friends were still scurrying around moving their boats and making ready. We watched as self-appointed harbour masters shoo'd late-comers desperately seeking shelter from the storm back out of the harbour entrance. Only a handful of boats were allowed into Hope Town and we were lucky to be one of them. We finally accepted that there was nothing more we could do and what would happen would happen and decided to take the ferry back over to Marsh Harbour and our friend's house where we would be staying even if it was two days before Jeanne was supposed to arrive on the scene. That decision was just another lucky happenstance since the ferries which had been assuring everybody that they would be running the next day, all of a sudden had the keen insight that maybe they ought to secure their own boats, and announced the next morning that they would not be running after all.

I won't go into the details of the hurricane itself because I've already been long-winded enough and that's a whole 'nother blog about the plight of a house full of old boaters marooned in a house during a four day hurricane and the desperate measures they take when the booze runs out. Just envision "Lord of the Flies". LOL. Truthfully, we relished the luxury and good food and wonderful company provided by Patty and Bob at Blue Dolphin in our hour of need. Patty practically had to show us the door to get rid of us.

I've found that a boat is a lot like life. If you take care and protect it, it will return the favor. Some of life's lessons are hard to learn and there were lessons which that bitch Frances taught me that have helped me weather other storms whether they be storms that Mother Nature bestowed on me or storms I have brewed up on my own. Here they are in no particular order:

1. Find a safe harbour. One where the holding is good and you are protected from the brunt of the storm. No matter how rough that safe harbour gets, no matter how much it tosses you around and leaves you sick and feeling like you might die, don't sail back into the storm. Ride it out. The storm will eventually pass over your harbour but if you cast your lot with the storm you can't know how far she will carry you from safety or to what depths she will drive you.

2. Surround yourself with people that are concerned for your safety and will help do whatever is required to help you get secure because they know that if you are not secure, you could break loose in the storm and drag into them, doing damage that could cause them to sink or lose their own safe holding causing both of you and whoever is in your path to end up broke and battered on the rocks. Don't let other boats that could be a threat to you in your safe harbour.

3. Listen to the advice of the people that have weathered storms before. You may receive different and even conflicting advice but listen and discern which advice is applicable to your situation and your "boat" and then apply it. It's great to read and listen but it only works if you do the work. All of it. No skimping and no half measures allowed, because the storm will find any weakness you have left unprotected and that's where she'll take her opportunity to destroy everything you've tried so hard to fortify.

4. Use every lifeline you have, even if it's a little frayed.

5. Stow or get rid of anything that could become a missile and cause a hole or do damage to your "boat".

6. The friends that stick with you through the storm will be there afterwards to help you clean up and will be there to guide you away from or see you through future storms.

7. When the storm has passed, stick your head out and assess what damage it has wrought and then get off your ass and start cleaning up and rebuilding. Find the weak spots and make them stronger so they can withstand the next storm, if it comes. Don't wait for someone to do the work for you, your friends are there to help but it's your boat and it's up to you to make it seaworthy again.

Our boat made it through the storm with no damage and was as dry as a bone inside. Although it did look like someone had picked her up and shook her real good and not everything I though was stowed securely was. Several of the boats that crowded into Man-O-War dragged and damaged each other. A couple of weeks later, Hurricane Frances was hovering on the scene and while the weather forecasters said she was not going to be a threat, we were skeptical so we kept everything stowed and tied and sure enough she swept in. Once again the boat did fine but I learned another lesson.

8. There are always more storms on the horizons, you have to watch out for them and keep your defenses in place.

So today I'm out there doing my best to check my defenses for signs of fatigue and sending out my karmic lifelines to my friends in the Abacos even if some of them are a little frayed.

 

 

Agur's Wish Homesick Blues

It is snowing here in Colorado tonight and I am thinking I should be in Abaco. I should be swaying on the hook on Agur’s Wish in Hope Town Harbour tonight. Not just because it’s warm there and it sure as heck isn‘t warm here tonight.. No, I should be spending the last few of Agur’s Wish’s nights in Abaco with her, she might need me. She’ll be leaving the place she has called home for more than five years in a few days and I’ve been there, and I’ve done that.

I know she’s going to miss that gorgeous gin clear water.

I know she’s going to miss the sound of laughter in her cockpit.

I know she’s going to miss her friends at the dock.

I know she’ll miss friends stopping by just to say “Hi”

I know she’ll miss seeing old friends come into the harbour.

I know she’ll miss seeing new friends come into the harbour.

I wonder if she’ll miss that grass skirt we let her wear.

I know she’ll miss the hum of a lone predawn fishing boat cutting across the harbour heading to the sea.

I know she’ll miss the hues of morning racing each other across the sky.

I know she’ll miss the voice of the island as it goes about it’s work day.

I know she’ll miss the peal of church bells at the noon hour.

I know she’ll miss watching the colors chase the sun into the water at sunset.

I know she’ll miss the evening’s song and laughter.

I know she’ll miss the quick fall of dark.

I know she’s going to miss that shining beacon flashing through the night.

I know she’ll miss a sky so full of stars you can’t make out the black of night.

I know she’ll miss the bump of the turtle’s shell and the slap of the stingray’s wing as they glide beneath her.

I know she’ll miss the gleeful play of dolphins all around her.

I know she’ll miss that perfume of salt, sand, beauty, strength, grace and abundant joy.

Man, is she ever going to miss all those smiles.

I know she’ll miss the watchful eyes that looked over her when we couldn’t.

I wonder if she misses us and worries about how we’re doing.

I know she’s weeping tonight.

Fair Winds and Calm Seas, Agur‘s Wish,

I’ll see you in Annapolis.

P.S. Once again, I wish I made this stuff up. This ain’t a fairy tale, it really is out there, go out and live it. So why are we giving this up? My first response tonight? “Beats the hell out of me!“ Second response…Who says we are? Just a new chapter for both us and Agur’s Wish. As the cap’n will tell you, I reread my favorite books over and over and over again. And you know what? She is still ours. I hope I’m just adding more characters.

Whadda Ya Do All Day?

I just got back from Pilates class on the beach (actually it was on a concrete slab behind the Hope Town Methodist Church, but beach sounds more romantic) and the cap'n is out racing on a friend's boat. Life is wonderful and idyllic. Actually some friends had to pry our lazy asses off the boat.

Life is one big circle. We spend our first few human years with nothing to do but learn the basic skills of walking and talking and controlling our bodily functions. All of this happens rather naturally without much effort on our part. The rest of this time is spent, well, just playing. This too comes rather naturally and without much effort on our parts. Most of us probably spent countless hours banging on a metal pot with a spoon. We didn’t spend a whole lot of time worrying about what we were accomplishing or contributing to society. Life was simple.

And then they ruined it! They sent us to school. Our life became a routine. 8:00 a.m. first bell. 8:15 a.m. time to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. And on it went. Even recess was organized play and as we got older the recesses got shorter and shorter until they finally disappeared altogether.

Most of us endured this for at least twelve years. A lot of us suffered even longer. Why? So we could get a job! That’s right, after years of forced routine and learning, we traded it in for more routine and even shorter vacations. For what reason did we endure another 20, 30, 40+ years of enslavement? In order to make enough money to go back and do what we were doing all those years ago. Play.

So now you’ve been on your boat for a few months and ….

“Waaah! theres nothing to do!”

Snorkeling and fishing all day were a blast when they were a once or twice a year event but they lose some allure when you do it every day. I know you won’t believe me but you can get real tired of a steady diet of fish, even lobster.

You don’t want to admit it but your bored out of your mind. Try admitting that to a working person and you won’t get a whole lot of sympathy but lament to a fellow “first mate”and believe me they’ll know where you’re coming from. We all started out with great expectations of the nirvana of the cruising life. Water of unbelievable beauty and all the activities that go along with it, perfect weather, beach barbecues, nights under endless stars…and it’s all out there, the only problem is it doesn’t seem to be enough. All those years of routine and learning and accomplishing have altered us. We want to be doing something. We want to be challenged.

Okay, so you’ll learn new skills. You’ll paint or write. But you may find if you haven’t used these skills since high school or college you’re bound to be rusty. You can learn on your own but you’re going to have to be very self-disciplined and not give up after your first disappointing efforts. Channel your inner child, you know the one that picked up a crayon without any concern whether the result was going to be a masterpiece, and just have fun. The good new is that in some of the larger harbours there are organized painting and writing circles that readily welcome newbies. And where there's internet, there's a way, or at least an online course, either for fun or for college credit. One friend of mine taught herself oil painting (and she was good at it), how to play the flute and sax (and she was good at it), she also wrote a book, and, in her spare time, she monogrammed clothing for friends on a special sewing machine she brought on her boat. All of this in four months. Oh, I forgot to tell you she also jogged every day. She had retired from the military and was obviously very self-disciplined. I hated her.

So have I finally convinced you to give up on the idea of sailing off into the sunset and living happily ever after? I hope not. You don’t have to become unhappy and bored but you have to be prepared to prevent it. You have to realize you’re not going to be happy for long with nothing to do everyday but walk on the beach or snorkel in crystal clear waters. I know this is hard to buy when you’re in the middle of a fifty- hour work week with additional children and grandchildren obligations to top it off, but take my word on it. Unfortunately, all those years of routine and productivity can’t be wiped from our subconscious right away. You’ll find that you miss routine. You’ll find that you miss having something you’ve got to get done and deadlines. That’s right we creatures of habit need routine. The good news is now we get to be in charge. We get to say when and what we’re going to do and how. Oh yeah, and we get to put recesses back in the schedule. The only problem is we’re going to have to learn to play again but we’ll discuss that later.

Let’s get started.

Step One: Don’t enforce the routine the minute you cast off the docklines. Do take a vacation. Spend the days like you dreamed. Walk the beaches. Find some shells. Do nothing! You’ve missed a lot of recesses. You deserve it. You’ll know when you’re getting a little restless. Then you’ll be ready to add a little routine. It took me about four months to start feeling restless but a lot longer before I did anything about it.

Step Two: Decide what your routine is going to be. That’s the beauty of it. It’s entirely up to you. Most of us spent our working careers with someone else engineering our days. Now we get to do it ourselves. The routine you create will depend on how much you want to accomplish and how much time it will require. I am not a very regimented person. I like flexibility. Instead of planning my routine on an hour to hour basis, I like to make lists of the things I want to accomplish each day and the approximate times I intend to dedicate to them. My list looks something like this:

Sample List: Write 2 hrs.
Exercise 30 min. (Maybe…probably not)
E-mail 30 min. (Actually it’s more like 3 hours but I steal it from my exercise and boat chores time)
Boat chores (laundry, cleaning, varnishing …) However long the chore takes. Boats are a lot smaller than houses and you can get a vast amount of work done in an hour.

(Sorry! Can't make the friggin' tab work on blogger. AARRGH!)

Never mind! Blogger was smarter than me as usual. Mea Culpa, Blogger


I don’t usually schedule more than four hours. I feel like I worked enough 8+ hour days to deserve a lesser work schedule. This is enough for me to feel like I haven’t become a beachbum or cockpit potato. Some of you will want more and some of you will be more regimented. Once again, it’s up to you. Just don’t forget to make time to play. I like the daily list so I can tailor it around where we are and what boat activity we might be doing that day. Plus I love crossing things off of the list so I feel I’ve accomplished something that day. In my former life I was an over-achiever. As you can see, I expect a lot less of myself these days. It’s amazing to what depths of laziness you can sink on a boat.

Step Three: What are you going to include in your routine? This is probably the most difficult and important step. The best time to figure this out is before you slip those docklines. Most of our former lives were centered on our jobs and families. We didn’t have time to figure out what we’d really love to do. I’d always known I wanted to write and had written articles for various magazines before we moved on the boat. I had done research on writing and publishing while I was still a dirt dweller so I had a few tools in my toolbox and I knew it fulfilled my need for productivity and creativity. Many women I met brought art supplies or musical instruments. I did too. We carried a guitar around for two years before we gave it away and I still can’t play a tune on my harmonica. I am just a little more proficient at my pastels. I consider these my “play” things and I don’t devote a whole lot of time to them. Mostly because I don’t believe I have the gene to surpass my painfully embarrassing level of talent in these skills. I can still have fun playing with them though. If you wish to spend a “routine” amount of time in developing this type of skills, then by all means do so.
However, if these skills do not have enough substance to fulfill your need for productivity you might want to investigate “real” jobs you can perform from the boat. Internet access is pretty much accessible in all areas of the world and many people are working from their boats. You may even be able to bring your old job with you. My friend, Joan, on “Joan Marie” tried to retire from her job as medical laboratory technician instructor at a medical college in California but they wouldn’t let her. They still employ her as a consultant and she contributes to several textbooks in the field. Any of these jobs may require additional learning and skills that would be much easier to acquire while still on land. And, of course, lots of people in the computer sector are going about their business as usual. If I can talk to a guy in Timbuktu about my computer problems, why can’t I talk to a guy in George Town, Exumas. So while making future preparations for the boat in planning a long-term cruise don’t forget to make a few preparations for yourself.

An additional activity many cruisers take part in while in paradise is volunteer work. This may seem difficult to plan if you’re moving around frequently but you’ll be surprised how simple it is. Almost any church or school on an inhabited island will be very grateful to find something for you to do. This might range from picking up a paintbrush to reading to a group of children while the teacher spends a little extra time with an individual student. Most volunteer jobs require no special skills although if you do have applicable special skill they are also always very appreciated. Another “Joan” friend of mine on the boat “Ola B” was waiting out a hurricane at a school when she happened to mention to the principal that she had been a psychologist in her former life. Well guess what? She’s now counseling a couple of kids a couple of times a week and she loves it. Here in the Abacos there are many requests for volunteers with any building skills for many of the non-profit organizations there that receive no aid from the government. Believe me, if you put yourself out there some one will put you to work.

If there aren’t any opportunities make your own . If you happen to be on an uninhabited island, take in a couple of trash bags and pick up the debris that litters the beaches and haul it to the next settlement that has a trash pick-up. If there’s more than one boat in the harbor invite everybody to do the same thing and make a party out of it. It may not seem like much but every little bit counts. Another fellow boater, Niels on Westwind, organized a shore clean-up in Marsh Harbour and it has now become a yearly tradition with both boaters and locals involved.

Step Four: Convincing the captain to cooperate. Although some of these activities can be done together, you will have to put your foot down and insist on some time for yourself. Probably before you even get restless you’ll notice that the captain is starting to get on your nerves. Most couples have never spent as much time together before going cruising, much less in the close confines of a boat. In my experience it seems that this sudden aversion to your spouse occurs earlier and much more frequently to the boat’s first mate than it does to the captain. Probably because the captain is just so doggone happy to be on his boat. And that is where you get your edge. Remember he really wants you to be happy on the boat. He doesn’t want you to make him sell his boat. You don’t have to hold this over his head 24-7 but it sure does make a good bargaining tool when you want something to go your way. This really isn’t a big deal. Discuss it with him when you’re at the “ Setting the Rules of Our Cruising Life ” stage and it won’t be a big surprise to him when you demand your space. Discuss with him how much time you need and when you want it if it is going to be on a regular basis. Remember to be flexible. If you’ve just sailed into a new anchorage and he really wants you to go explore it with him, by all means go and put off your plans for a few hours. But if you’ve been lazing around in the same harbor for a week or two and you’ve become locals let him go off on his own to snorkel or fish. It will do both of you good.

Step Five: Oops! Sorry the bell just rang. It’s recess time. Let’s go play!

O' HOLY NIGHT IN THE ABACOS

We are off the boat and back on the Mother Land for a bit of work this Christmas. We will be spending our Christmas in a motel in Bay City, Texas. As we pulled into this hard-scrabble dusty south Texas town, I thought to myself, “This is where I’m going to be spending Christmas?” At that moment I was thrown back to Christmas Eve 2003 on Grand Cay, Abaco, Bahamas. My first day in the Bahamas, and I bawled my eyes out.

We had been working toward this moment ever since we bought the boat. We had been restricted to the East Coast for our previous sailing years because of family and custody requirements but since my youngest had graduated we were free to reach further. We had spent the summer and early fall readying the boat for passages south and attending two of our sons’ weddings and one grandchild’s birth. Shortly after Thanksgiving we made our way south toward West Palm Beach. We did our time in Purgatory at Lake Worth waiting for that elusive weather window. We became the pilot boat for the whole anchorage. Every morning the other boats would watch us pull up anchor and head out the inlet. They would then wait with bated breath, and coffees or Bloody’s until they saw us come back and do the anchoring dance again. Maybe tomorrow…

Then came the big day. December 23rd, 2003. We went out early a.m. as usual aaannnd came back, as usual. Put the anchor down and settled in until the next morning but waddayuno right in the middle of our brunch of stale bread and green tinged bologna we noticed a mass exodus of boats out of the anchorage. The cap’n , grateful for any excuse to throw his sandwich overboard, jumped up and hollered, “Haul Anchor”. And away we went.

I don’t remember if we motored or sailed but at about 11:00 pm that night we were on the banks and we were exhausted and decided to put down the anchor. The fact that the passage was not memorable is a good thing. We could see three other mast lights out there in the vast nothingness. We had left with 30+ other boats. Against the cap’ns wishes I lit the Christmas lights and blasted Bing Crosby across the ocean.

At about 4:00 a.m. the wind was piping and we pulled anchor and headed towards Walker’s Cay. It was Christmas Eve. We arrived at our anchoring place at about 10:00 a.m. I won’t call it an anchorage because we were way out in no man’s land because of our 6.6 foot draft, but that’s okay because there were three other boats stuck out in the aqueous boondocks with us. The first boat came back with great news. “Easy clear in. No problem”. We made ready for a landing. Unfortunately, we ended up being the last of the fleet. Unfortunately, it was the first year that the Bahamas had increased the cruising permit fee. Unfortunately, we were preceded in the clearing in process by a disgruntled Norwegian?, Finnish? Danish? One of those Viking type sailors who decided to wage his battle against the Bahamian government on the only customs agent on the island. Unfortunately, the agent took afront at this and walked out. She did return….an hour later. Unfortunately, we bore the brunt of her anger when she charged us $150 for a fishing permit that was supposed to be included in our cruising permit and that we only needed for two days, but as usual that’s another story. Thank you Ma’am. Have a Merry Christmas.
So four hours later we head back to the boat. Unfortunately, we are in an unprotected non-anchorage. Unfortunately, there is a storm brewing. So we haul anchor….again and head for Grand Cay

Grand Cay. Hmmm. Grand Cay. What can I say about Grand Cay? We were anchored about 2 zillion miles out. At least that’s the way it seemed to me. Keep in mind, I was sleep deprived, I might as well have been 2 zillion miles away from my friends, my kids and my Dad. I saw our future in the Bahamas as a boat on the horizon staring hungrily at the lights of an unreachable civilization. I could hear the hounds of trash island calling to me. (Anybody that’s been to Grand Cay knows what I’m talking about). I may have been PMSing also, maybe that’s why the hounds were howling. Let’s just say I made the cap’ns life a veritable hell that night which is my sole purpose in this world. Happy, Happy Christmas, Baby.

Christmas Day! We’re up early and head to town. Either my chakras are more balanced or my eyes are too swollen to take in the whole picture, but Grand Cay is looking better this am. Not good, but better. It’s Christmas Day though, so will we find anything open?
Good news! Grand Cay is not only open but it’s right out there on the street. Every inhabitant is either parked in a chair along the main street, (men on one side, women on the other) or, if they are of the younger variety, whizzing down the road on shiny new bikes or skateboards. The only population that is inside are the ones shooting pool at Rosie’s. I always thought Rosie was a petite older black woman….not! On all accounts…not!

We walk by the house/store fronts and ask the women sitting out front if they are open for business.

“Sure, Sweetie, What you want?”

We fall in love with the two cuties with matching hair ribbons and dresses, all dressed up and holding hands as they skip down the road.

We cheer wildly for the young daredevils racing their new bikes down the main drag.

We wince at the plethora of Styrofoam containers in use and disuse at the same time we sniff appreciatively and wonder where they got the contents..

Later that night we are aboard the S/V Concerto with our first new friends in the Bahamas, June and Geoff. This friendship continues today, even if they haven’t reciprocated in years, we still love them. We were joined by that disgruntled Dane, Hans and his Yankee wife, Joy. Hmmm…Joy?….Christmas?…..She was joyful and so was he away from the customs office.


My message? Don’t judge a book by it’s cover or an island by it’s refuse. Instead judge it by its’ people. You won’t be disappointed and you might just fall in love. Islands are like a box of chocolates and as Forrest Gump says “You never know what you’re gonna get.”
They all taste different, but they’re all good.


Merry Christmas from mine to yours!

P.S. My thanks to AwayTeamAbaco for the beautiful picture of the Hope Town Lighthouse (actually the Elbow Reef lighthouse)all decked out in holiday splendour. Our thanks also to the Hope Town Harbour Rats that worked so hard stringing the lights.