Bahamas Bound

Morning. Hot. Lists spinning in my head. I try to close my eyes to get a few more minutes of fitful sleep, a fruitless attempt to find some rest for the day’s journey. Mike’s bird call whistle drags me out of bed, and with an offer of coffee, he jokingly inquires if we feel like sailing to the Bahamas today.

The Sunday morning peace of the boatyard is broken by our last attempts to be prepared to leave; jerry cans secured on deck, a final top off of the water tank, a conference of route checking, and a quick fishing lesson (what do we do if we actually catch a fish??). At long last, it was time to leave. We hugged Dan and Donna one last time, heartbroken to be leaving them behind but so glad we were able to have them there to send us off. Engine fired, Elpis peeled away from the dock and we made our way to the ocean while I made last minute calls to friends and family (hey, headed out to sea, talk to you in a few months). This is it. We are Bahamas bound!

Our projected route was to leave Marathon and to arrive in Cat Cay sometime the following day, a crossing of about 120 miles. We had promised ourselves we wouldn’t do another overnight, but after a bright sunny day of sailing along the keys, we were yet again sailing off into the sunset. The night was warm and a perfect south breeze pushed us quietly through the gentle chop. The autohelm kept our course true, and a bright moon lit up the sky and Samadhi, always within a few miles of us. The hours passed calmly and quietly, and we amused ourselves during radio checks by singing songs or telling jokes, unheard by the rest of a sleeping world far away. The gulf stream was tame as a sleeping tiger; the only indication was a bizarre difference between our heading and our actual direction of movement.

By dawn, the wind had shifted enough for Samadhi and Elpis to put up our spinnakers, and we leap frogged past each other snapping photos and trying to race. We pretended to fish, too nervous about actually catching something to keep the rods out for long (though Mike and Dan almost got a bill fish- I watched it jump 4 feet out of the water!). The sun high in the sky found me staring into the water, the most deep blue sparkly ocean color I could have never imagined holding me captive and keeping me wondering about its depths. Though the light wind made the sails flap and motoring necessary, it was a beautiful, happily uneventful crossing!

Leaving Marathon

Samadhi! Hi, Mike and Dan

Fire sky