0630...

... too early to wake up; particularly when it had been near midnight when I climbed into the berth. Though it was a travel day, high tide would not arrive for four more hours. There would be no trying to get through the Black Sound inlet until we were within a hour of that tide. It would take only an hour to prep the boat and be on our way so going back to sleep for a bit would be a good choice. But it was not to be.

A mild hum in the rigging suggested the wind had already outrun the forecast, which did not make me happy. The task for the day was to pass though the Whale, that bit of open water that separates the northwestern part of the Abaco sea from the southeastern part. It can be a finicky bit of ocean that will administer a thorough thrashing to the careless. We had waited an extra day in Green Turtle to take advantage of the forecast for light winds; us, and about a dozen others as well. The light winds were supposed to mark the last day of a weather window to move around the Abacos, followed by four days of winds reaching toward 40 knots. Our plan was to make it to Treasure Cay for the show. We have a long way to go and the calendar now says “March”. Time to get a move on.

Of all the machines I have operated over the years, sailboats still strike me as the most tender, the most susceptible, to bad weather. In reality I am the one who is tender. Though I have ridden motorcycles through the dying remains of a hurricane, driven in snow that had most people looking for a hotel, and flown contently through stuff some people would consider a pure nightmare, I am still unsure of my footing on big water in a 42 foot boot. It is the only machine that has ever made me motion sick to the point of not being able to function, the only machine where – sometimes – I am just not sure of the next thing to do. It frustrates me that this is so.

A check of the weather showed the incoming cold front still a hundred miles away, the forecast even suggesting that the winds would now hang in the low 30s, and fade by early next week. Boats with shallower drafts than Kintala were pulling out all around us. Deb started the coffee. I started to prep the boat for departure. An hour before high tide we dropped the mooring ball and headed off. I pretended to be comfortable and sure; though Deb doubtless knew I was faking.

We slipped though the Whale without a care.

Treasure Cay is different than it was two years ago. It is a full-fledged mooring field now, with just one little spot left clear for anchoring, big enough for maybe four or five boats. We debated a bit, but ended up picking up one of the mooring balls. I am sure it will be fine, but I am not impressed. The balls are small and cheap. The chains running to the bottom are not as big as the one we use to anchor Kintala. The ball we picked up had its pennant chewed about half way through. The bleach bottle float was split and we had to fish the dangling line out of the water. We affixed two of our own lines to the ball, only to be informed when checking in that the rings on top of the balls will not hold up in a blow. We went back to the boat and, using a shackle of our own, fixed our lines to the shackle at the bottom of the ball. It was an awkward little dance, Deb on deck, me in the Ding, to get it set up where we were comfortable. Several of the boats around us have their lines run from a cleat, through the painter, back to the other cleat; a set up likely to chafe badly if the winds blow as forecast. Others are fastened to the ring on top of the ball. I hope the rings are stronger than suggested, and the winds less.

Still, tonight I am content, if a bit embarrassed by this morning's unease. The trip here was short and uneventful, the waters sparking and clear, the little whitecaps of no concern at all. Kintala's newly installed, rebuilt water pump worked fine, though our wind instrument is, once again, on the fritz. We made the right decisions, handled the boat, and are settled in. I am determined to get comfortable doing this, to be at ease in this world.

But it looks like that will be a while yet.

For some reason this sign made me think of our good friend Paul of Lat 43 fame

Waiting to see

Newbies though we be, we have definitely become a part of this wonderful band of sailboat wandering gypsies. Today Kim & Kenny on Loon, and Stephen and Dorothy on Marigot, part of the little tribe that formed here in Black Sound over the last couple of days, headed off through the Whale and on to places south. Though we had been planning to head back west and north to visit places passed by, it look like Kintala will be following along behind them tomorrow. The next bit of weather is close on the heels of the one just passed, suggesting that the prudent be tucked away no later then Tuesday night. To the west and north and within reach by Tuesday night given the light winds forecast, there wouldn't appear to be any place to sit out the weather. However, Treasure Cay lies barely 20 miles to the south and east, on the other side of the Whale, and offers just such a tucking.

The Whale is a channel out of the Sea of Abaco though a barrier reef, into the Atlantic, and back into more protected waters that may still be the Sea of Abaco, or the Abaco Sea, or Abaco Sound, or maybe Marsh Harbor ... I can't really tell from the charts and it isn't like the ocean has lines painted on it. Passing through the Whale can be a problem depending on what kind of ocean swell from the deep Atlantic is plowing into the shallow bottom of the channel, and we haven't done anything quite like this before. So, though the plan is to cross the Whale and head to places south, it may be that we end up back in Black Sound to wait out the weather. It all depends on what mood the Whale is in tomorrow.

When it comes to sailboat gypsies that is what passes for a plan; we may do this, if that, depending on the other, maybe ... we'll just have to see. It is the way most of humanity has lived for most of history. We could plan to do some things when we got to some place, but getting to that place was subject to all kinds of changes and delays.

But then we got all industrial and smart and created tools (trains, planes and automobiles – and really big boats) that could handle more and more weather. Our plans got much more intricate and elaborate, and usually work out pretty much as we intend. People all over drive 20 miles to work and back every day, not often wondering if it will be possible to go that far today. Others fly hundreds of miles and arrive just hours before a meeting. Just in time inventory goes by container ship and truck, and generally gets there just in time. This constant fulfilling of plans drives society and dominates lives, and all of it depends on things and people moving to given places at set times.

Sailboat gypsies get there whenever, if at all. Plans are really just intentions, and not very dearly held ones at that. Allens – Pensacola Cay is a place we want to visit, but that may not happen this year. From where we are at the moment it is the wrong way with the wrong wind and weather. Treasure Cay is another place we want to visit, and it looks like it might be the right way with the right wind and weather.

We'll just have to see.