Note – We are presently safely anchored in Chub Cay. This is yesterday’s post when we didn’t have any connectivity on the bank. Today’s post will show up later this evening.

Yesterday afternoon, a battered 45’ catamaran anchored in the harbor behind our slip. Two youthful crew members, one male, one female, and the captain (about our age) made for land in the boat’s dinghy. A short while later, we were hailed by a voice on the finger pier. It was the catamaran’s captain, who professed his love for Island Packets (having owned one in the past) and wanted to talk boat specs. An animated guy, he’d filled us in on tantalizing details of his past in a few minutes: He was delivering the catamaran from South America to its owner in Florida. He was overjoyed that weather would allow him to make the crossing to Lake Worth in the morning, and anticipated an early start. His crew was inexperienced, European, and about to jump ship as they didn’t have visas which would permit US travel. The catamaran had been damaged in a hurricane and one pontoon was full of water. He had no electronics, no lifelines, only one engine. He had been bitten by a tarantula in Managua (he showed us a fearsome calf wound). He wrapped up the conversation cordially and headed for the main part of the marina. In the middle of the night, the catamaran dragged anchor and when we awoke at 6:00am the boat was in the knee-deep water next to the bulkhead that separates the harbor from King’s Highway. We saw the captain leaning mournfully on a piling near us. He told us he realized the boat was dragging in the night and when he tried to use his single engine to pull forward, the throttle broke. He was enlisting some local help to pull the boat from the shallows and repair the throttle when we left at 8:30am.

We had a smooth departure from the marina despite some current, but when we raised the mainsail we had a little excitement of our own. The sail filled, and suddenly the mainsheet’s block separated from the U-bolt that holds it to the traveler. There was an initial ‘snap’ and then the boom went with the wind hard to port, with the sail flapping wildly. Paula was at the wheel and turned C Ghost into the wind. Tom climbed up top, and found that the U bolt, which had been in good condition when last inspected, had bent, and the pin holding the block had slipped, allowing the block to escape. Tom rigged a preventer to control the boom motion and went below. He found and installed a new U-bolt, checked the block carefully (it appeared undamaged) and we were back in business. We got a nice period of sailing for about 10 miles until we turned east at North Rock. Then we lost both the favorable wind direction and much of its strength. We were still able to motor sail for another 25 miles.

Octavius the autopilot showed up for work today, which lessened our fatigue factor greatly. Each of us was able to stretch out in the cockpit for a short nap while the other watching the route, the autopilot, and the surrounding sea.

The Bahama Bank is the oddest body of water we’ve ever been on to date. A 70-mile stretch of ocean only 12-20 feet deep, it was nearly empty of boats today. Since we entered it, we’ve seen less than a dozen, and those at a distance. Despite the absolute clarity of the water, we saw few fish. And even fewer birds! When we passed Mackie Shoal light, we did see an exhausted-appearing band of travelers who were resting on the only static point for miles consisting of a bedraggled cormorant, a bewildered Royal Tern and several seagulls.

It was a very strange sensation to arrive at the waypoint we had chosen for tonight’s anchoring and see nothing but water all around (featured picture). The wind and waves had died as well and once the engine was off everything felt very quiet. We ate dinner in the cockpit and took pictures of a cloudy sunset. Now, since night has fallen the sky is clear and the gibbous moon, Orion, and many stars are visible. We’ve chosen a spot off of and midway between the two routes that most night sailors would travel, to avoid any nighttime close encounters. We slept in the cockpit this night with the spotlight handy and Tommy strung a second anchor light. The moon was brilliant and kept our surroundings quite visible.