Bimini — Cupcake Afloat

Our trip across the Gulf Stream was utterly uneventful. That’s the way we like it.

Got out of bed at 3:45am, Ellen had the anchor up by 4am and off we went. Our tricky route worked out pretty well and we caught the Stream and were moving along at a nice 6.5 knot average. Of course, that was a motorboat ride for us because the wind was too light for real sailing. In any event, we arrived in Bimini at about 1:30pm.

As we made our way from the deep blue waters to the more shallow water, Moss acknowledged that the rave reviews of the water with which I have been regaling her for months are all true.

The water color was a mesmerizing indigo. The seas were super flat: just a long, low swell of around 2’ from the north. We ran the water maker on the ride over. The fact that the water maker was one of the more exciting parts of the passage shows how uneventful it was. There were plenty of flying fish too.

These are the Gulf Stream waters you hear about in song.

At 1,300 feet of depth our depth sounder gave up trying to see how far away the bottom of the ocean was because the water was just too deep, but the charts indicated we were passing over spots that were 2,800 feet deep. Yow! When we got into the heart of the Gulf Stream we saw the water temperature jump from 77F to 81F. Fascinating.

As we left the US coast, we were monitoring, as usual, Coast Guard broadcasts. We could hear alerts from both the Miami Coast Guard base and the Key West Coast Guard base. All along the coast we have heard announcements, alerts, and warnings from the various Coast Guard sectors as we drew near. In Maine we generally hear Rockland, then Boston. It was a thrill to hear Jacksonville when we were still in Georgia. So now we’ve pretty much heard from all the Coasties on the east side of the country.

Got to Bimini without a need to call any Coast Guard, tied up at the Bimini Blue Water Resort for fuel and then I went to slay the twin bureaucratic dragons of Customs and Immigration. No problem.

As soon as we cleared in we moved Cupcake to a protected spot and dropped anchor in about 7’ of clear water.

We got ourselves that Batelco SIM card for my phone so now we’ve got a Bahamian phone number and a data plan (both are significantly cheaper than what we pay in the US…just like healthcare in the rest of the world.) American exceptionalism indeed.

Because we are anchored close enough to a marina (Bimini Big Game Club) to grab their unsecured guest wifi, we are all connected via the wonderful Internets once again.

Sunday I was asked by a friend to blog about food more (an activity that does not come naturally for me). Monday was not a gourmet kind of an experience. We wore our anti-seasickness patches first thing upon waking up. Then I ate a bowl of instant oatmeal (ugh), then about sixty gallons of water to keep myself hydrated. One Red Bull to keep myself awake. Two Gatorades to keep myself electrolyted. Our passage lunch was peanut butter and Fluff sandwiches (Fluffernutter sandwiches to those in the know). Easy to prepare beforehand, easy to eat underway (in case the passage proved rougher than anticipated). We did not fish because Ellen says there is no room for anything else in the fridge or freezer. That’s a bummer. And we had a crackers and sopressata salami snack. This morning Ellen made pancakes for Moss, I made myself an egg, over-easy, on a bed of fried rice.

Quarantined aboard until the Captain returns with clearance from Customs and Immigration.

Lots of people (landlubbers) seem a little confused about how we sail at night (the few times we do) and how we secure the boat when we stop traveling for the day. When we sail at night, we take turns keeping watch so someone is awake and at the helm on lookout at all times. The boat doesn’t stop just because the sun goes down.

It can be scary (can’t really see what may be lying in the water ahead of the boat) but we don’t sail in the dark unless we are in deep water or heading to deep water through a well-marked channel.

When we do stop for the night, our preferred way of securing the boat is at anchor. And our preferred time to have the anchor down is before 3pm so we have time to relax and time to move the boat if the anchorage isn’t quite right. Cupcake at a dock doesn’t move and doesn’t point into the weather. Being fixed to a dock means that if rain comes it may blow in from behind or from the side. Because of the way the hatches and portholes are oriented, the boat is best able to stay dry when the bow points into the weather. And on a hot day with the hatches pointing forward, they help funnel a breeze below. Plus, docking is expensive, anchoring is free.

Moorings are another option we try to avoid. Our issue with moorings is that we don’t know the condition of the mooring gear and believe our anchor, chain, and shackles are in better shape than a random mooring.

We also get questions from people about what it’s like sailing out of sight from land. When we first started sailing, the out of sight thing interested me too. But in practice being unable to see land while we sail is not a big deal. Not even a small deal. Yesterday when Miami (and by extension, the entire USA) dropped over the horizon behind us, nobody on board noticed it until maybe 30 minutes later. There’s no psychological jolt or fear or anything like that. No wistful or nervous looks astern. Maybe the reason it’s no big deal is that we are aware of where the land actually is (just over the horizon) or maybe it is because we know it’s not really the distance from land that should cause concern. It is whether or not the boat is safe and floating.

What was exciting yesterday was making landfall. Sighting the tops of the palm trees on Bimini as they first peeked over the curvature of the earth was a thrill.

(Oh my goodness is the internet slow here! No pictures for a while I think.