Temperature ... The Forgotten Weather Component

Beaufort to Belhaven |  8.5 Hours  |  61 Miles 

After spending the better part of two years onboard, we have a pretty tight routine for getting the anchor up early in the morning. On good sleeping mornings, I can condense the timeline to roughly 15 minutes. Such was the case today. I exited the pilothouse for the bow as normal only to find that it was COLD ... and I was still in my usual shorts and a T-shirt. We spent so much time reviewing multiple weather sites for wind and wave predictions, but neglected to notice that the temperature was going to plummet. Passing by the NOAA station as we entered the ICW made us think of all aspects of weather forecasting. I ran downstairs, pulled jeans and fleece out of storage, and layered up. There was little activity around the fishing vessels at the Morehead City docks. A few folks were working cleanup at the destroyed docks. Another group was tending to the oyster beds. The wind was blowing in the low 20s and the current was against us as we moved up the Newport River to Core Creek. It was slow going and we had plenty of time to catch interesting views such as the helicopter in this yard.

We also gave in and fished out the portable heater and plugged it in. Just another reminder that we were not supposed to be back this early. Closed up in the pilothouse we were warm and comfortable. When we turned north into the Neuse River, the wind-driven waves met us on the bow with a short period. The chop did not make for an uncomfortable ride, but it did create quite a bit of spray. I tried to capture the moment, but it never looks the same as live. I'm sure Crossroads looked much like the 64-foot Hatteras traveling beside us and hidden behind a curtain of water.

Thankfully the Neuse River section did not last long and when we turned west the wind was blocked by the trees and we had a nice ride into the canal and through Hobucken. The fishing boats alongside the RE Mayo docks are always a nice sign of civilization. Another familiar landmark is this house at the entrance to the Pamlico River. We're always intrigued by its interesting architecture. One last northbound open water crossing gave us another boat wash before reaching the anchorage at Belhaven. Learning from my previous error, I was fully layered up in foul weather gear to deploy the anchor. It was dry outside, but blowing in the mid 20s and windchill was a most unwelcome factor.

As I type this, it is raining and the wind is still howling as a front is moving through. We will stay put tomorrow and let it pass. Both of us are looking forward to taking it easy during the rain delay.

Drawing A Straight Line

Wrightsville Beach to Beaufort |  9.5 Hours  |  70 Miles 

Day 10 of rushing home brought another early morning departure. A favorable weather window allowed for an offshore passage which would save a couple of days of ICW travel. An orange sky brightened beyond Wrightsville Beach's Blockade Runner Resort as I went out to raise the anchor. Masonboro Inlet was eerily flat as we made our way into an equally calm Atlantic. A heavy cloud cover made for a chilly, gray ride. We closed the doors to the pilothouse to stay warm as we crossed Onslow Bay toward Beaufort.

Six hours later, the sun finally appeared and we enjoyed the improved conditions. I spent some time on Fiberglass Beach listening to the gentle whoosh of Crossroads surfing on a following sea. There was little traffic on the water and even less as we entered Beaufort Inlet. Normally boats would be zipping about and the marinas would be full. This afternoon, the Beaufort waterfront resembled a ghost town. We dropped anchor in Taylor Creek and wished the town's stores and restaurants were open so that we could go ashore. We had a great visit here last year, but now its just a stop on the road home. For this leg of the journey the shortest distance was a straight line.

Shaking Off the Fog

Supply to Wrightsville Beach |  4.6 Hours  |  35 Miles 

A dense fog greeted us this morning and delayed our departure time. We could see the boat behind us on the dock, but not much further. It was also difficult to see across the ICW. I checked the weather to see when it might clear and found out that we were also under a high pollen advisory. Welcome back to spring in North Carolina. I took advantage of the extra time and did a little yoga stretch in the hallway. I have been very diligent about stretching during our trip, right up to the point where we began rushing back home. I was very thankful for an extra two hours and the opportunity to work out some of the kinks that have set in over the last nine days onboard. I wiped down Crossroads with the chamois, removing salt spray and some more Fuzzy Bill stains. A local pelican came over to check us out. 

When visibility improved a bit, we cast off. For an hour it took both of us to keep a look out for other boat traffic. At the next level of clearing, I went outside to clean up the docklines and fenders. While doing so, I discovered another fish that had found its final resting place in our scupper drain -- three days ago. I gave it a proper burial at sea. As we neared the Cape Fear River, the nondescript Oak Island Lighthouse was still hiding behind some fog to the east. Its beacon was shining bright. To the west, the sun lit up the town of Southport's water tower, a church steeple and flag pole.

An interesting brick furnace seemed out of place along the river's edge. We got a great push from the current and zipped up the Cape Fear at 9.5 knots. It was another busy day on the water. In a new twist, a sea plane was practicing touch-and-gos near the inlet. Further in, the Tarheel Navy was parading in full force.

A quick passage through Stone's Cut put us into the mayhem of ICW. As you can see "social distancing" and "stay at home" were both merely suggestions. The beaches looked like those on Memorial Day weekend. The Wrightsville Beach water tower peeked over the horizon and we tracked toward it and found a spot in the anchorage for the evening. With a short travel day of only 35 miles, we even had a few afternoon hours to relax and check in with family and friends -- helping to clear our brain fog.

Spring Fever vs. Corona Virus

South Santee River, SC to Supply, NC |  11.3 Hours  |  86 Miles 

While we slept in our peaceful anchorage, the locals descended upon Crossroads. When I went outside to raise the anchor, I was shocked to see that we were covered in bugs. I got the hook up then attempted to clean up the infestation. The Fuzzy Bills (aka blind mosquitoes/midges) swarmed, but did not bite, and quickly died. Most of their carcasses were washed away, but many spots will require plenty of elbow grease and cleanser to remove when we get home. Our morning was serene and we enjoyed watching the world go by. A first for us was seeing a floating swing bridge. Spotting an eagle is always a treat. Trees covered with Spanish moss lined the edge of the grasslands. The confluence of five rivers occurs in Georgetown. Technically we were just downstream the Yadkin River from my Winston-Salem.

At this point we started joking about our effort at social distancing. There was not another boat in sight for miles. Only the osprey watched us go by and most of the boats we saw were at anchor.

The trees were glowing with the vivid greens of new leaves. We began to notice floating sticks, boards and logs in the water and spent a lot of effort avoiding them. We came upon one seemingly innocent stick, watched it pass down our port side, and screamed as it flinched, splashed, and dove underwater. That stick was actually an alligator. Later on another stick turned into a large snake. Quickly thereafter, our commune with nature ended and small boats crowded into the waterway. At the Socastee Swing Bridge, traffic was heavy.

It was obvious that social distancing was not as important as enjoying an 80 degree March day -- the choice of spring fever vs. corona virus. Spring had sprung and the purple wisteria bloomed among the white flowers at the edge of the ICW. We were right in the middle of two outbreak hotspots as we entered the Myrtle Beach area.

Small boats zipped by and it took a lot of concentration to avoid them and stay in the channel. Glimpses of blooming azaleas on waterfront golf courses provided a moment of relaxation. Now that we've had to leave the Bahamas, I'm anxious to get home and enjoy all the colors of spring.

Grand houses and huge condos lined the water. We began judging infinity pools and hardscapes. This house won for best retaining wall. We were happy to see the Little River Swing Bridge and have it open for us without delay. Just on the other side, we turned into our destination anchorage at 4:00. We did not like what we saw -- too shallow and too many derelict boats -- so we turned around and decided to keep going, into North Carolina. For close to three hours we searched for a spot to anchor (none) or tie up (docks too small, too shallow, closed because of virus). Reaching a high level of frustration, we took a chance and asked a waterman if we could tie up at their dock overnight. He helped us tie up and we were most grateful to call this long day done.

Knocking Out Some Miles

Fort Pierce, FL to Brown Island/South Santee River, SC |  53.9 Hours  |  399 Miles 

We were up to the sounds of the morning's first freight train passage. The tracks cross the water 100 yards from the end of the Harbortown Marina fuel dock and the rumble rattled the hull of Crossroads. A final top off of the water tank and emptying of the trash were completed before we eased away from the dock. The pelican sunning in the still water did not pay us any attention as we slipped by. As we exited Fort Pierce Inlet to the Atlantic, Sabrina and Seven Sundays were making their way in following their overnight cross from the Bahamas. We came full circle with these guys, meeting first in Great Harbour Cay. The ocean was smooth and there was zero apparent wind. We set a waypoint for Beaufort, NC, and began our three-hour watches. I took my time at the helm from the flybridge. Unfortunately, the still air invited every bug in the area to stop by and visit. Dragon flies and butterflies were welcomed. The biting gnats were the worst. The flies and love bugs were just annoying. Good news was that while the love bugs were conducting their business, it was an easy two kills for one swat. Cloud cover increased during the afternoon, but cleared enough for an almost-unobstructed sunset

Shortly after the sun disappeared, I spotted a shiny object in the water 25 miles off the coast of Titusville. Barry took the helm and I grabbed the boathook to bring in the mylar Valentine's Day balloon. Hugs and Kisses was a nice sentiment, but far-drifting helium-filled balloons are a big problem for sea creatures. Please don't release them. Following that excitement we watched as the sliver of moon set. It was a dark evening. We were in the Gulf Stream and making a great current-aided 12 knots. By 9:00 the seas and the wind were building. It was a rocky and wet night. Crossroads performed great while taking serious spray for hours. We warm dry and comfortable in the pilot house, but neither one of us slept much with the pitching and noise of the anchor chain resettling with each rise and fall of the bow. It was probably best that we couldn't make out the sea state around us. We could only see the incoming curtains of water as the were illuminated by our deck light. The darkness finally gave way to a classic "red in the morning, sailor's warning" sunrise. As the day progressed, we made the decision to head for Charleston instead of Beaufort and worked our way in closer to the coast. We took turns grabbing short naps when we could. The waves subsided and the sky again cleared for sunset. Our second overnight passage was pleasant with little traffic. We adjusted our speed for a first-light arrival at the entrance to Charleston. At 6:30 a Harbor Pilot had us join the parade behind one of the many large cargo ships.

The long channel was also busy with outgoing traffic. Beeps and dings from our phones announced that we had returned to cell service. At 8:30 we finally turned north into the ICW, just before the Ravenel Bridge.

Back into the Low Country, it was a refreshing ride. There were houses that sprouted up in remote locations and an old-school fire tower. Dolphins joined in our journey through the pines and grasses. Several groups swam in our bow wave and a few took up position along our beam.

We turned off the ICW at the South Santee River and anchored just off of Brown Island. As anticipated, our anchor chain was a tangled mess. I hopped into the anchor locker and eventually got it free and feeding up through the windlass. We picked up the items that settled into lower spots while underway, reset our dinghy on the rooftop, and cleaned the decks. In the process we found a seashell and four small fish. By the time I finished my shower, fog had rolled in. The wind picked up and we had a brief shower before clearing off. This really is a pretty spot. Hopefully I'll get a good picture tomorrow morning before we depart and keep moving north.

Crossing Back to the States

Morgan's Bluff to Fort Pierce, FL |  27.3 Hours  |  192 Miles 

We were in no real hurry to leave and took our time with breakfast, dishes, and final readying of the boat for an overnight voyage. With mixed emotions, we pulled up the anchor for the final time this year in the Bahamas. No more simple pleasures of seeing the chain laid out nice and straight under water, knowing exactly when you're over the anchor, and raising up a perfectly clean hook. We headed to the top of the Northwest Channel along with many sport fishers. A basic pole stands at the spot where the Shoal meets the Tongue of the Ocean. The water was calm and the wind was light -- trawler weather. Our chartplotter revealed a large gathering of cruise ships off Coco Cay. These giant floating cities are sitting at anchor without passengers during the Covid-19 outbreak.

The afternoon was uneventful and warm. Again, apparent wind ranged from 0-3 knots. We alternated watch shifts and each was able to read in the sun and/or nap. With the water deep enough, our route straight, and no other boats in sight, the autopilot took care of most of the work. We ate our prepped dinner and settled in on the flybridge to enjoy the final hour of daylight. Off our starboard side, we spotted a few light spots on the horizon. A little time passed and we could make the shapes to be sailboats. Then AIS confirmed what we were thinking. It was Ti Amo and River Rat. They had departed Great Harbour Cay in the morning as well. The sun sank and began casting an orange glow in the sky. On the western horizon, more cruise ships sat at anchor near Hen and Chickens Rock. Their large superstructures appeared to be more like islands than boats. An excellent sunset developed and we all watched while maintaining course.

At the last moment, the green flash appeared and radio chatter confirmed what we all thought we saw. How special to share this moment in the middle of open water. What are the odds of this meeting happening totally unplanned and without communication? Heck, could we have pulled it off it we had planned a sunset rendezvous? Final good nights and safe travels were swapped and we all continued to our destinations. Darkness soon overtook the daylight and the lights from the cruise ships lit up the moonless night. There was quite a bit of vessel traffic which helped our three-hour watches to pass quickly. My 12:00-3:00 shift had me playing a game of Frogger, adjusting speed to navigate through the traffic and maintain two miles of separation. It sounds like a lot of space, but it was white knuckle time. I was switching between the three ships checking speed, heading, and closest points of approach. We all played nicely together and no radio communication was required. I was particularly glad to see Gaslog Hongkong, Emerald Princess, and Disney Fantasy move on.

Thankfully my 6:00-9:00 shift was much calmer. I got to enjoy the stars in the deep black sky and watch as the sun rose through a thick cloud bank. Multiple alerts and tones sounded around 7:00 letting me know that cell service was returning. News of a total lockdown in the Bahamas helped make our decision to return more acceptable. Beachfront hotels, condos, and a nuclear power plant grew larger on the horizon. We arrived at Fort Pierce Inlet at our target time and we easily entered at slack current. 

A short distance later we turned into Harbortown Marina to refuel. Pumping 360 gallons took a while, but the flowers on the nicely landscaped grounds provided a great view. Thankfully we did not have to relocate and were able to stay on the fuel dock overnight. We gave Crossroads a good rinse and then took extended showers ourselves. We have been in water conservation mode for so long that these were great treats. Tomorrow we'll hop back offshore for a several day trek up the coast. The weather conditions will determine how far we go. Ideally, we'd like to make Beaufort, NC in three days. We are no longer in sightseeing mode. Now, we just want to get back to our home slip. There will be no post until we stop and catch our breath.

Staging to Cross

Norman's Cay to Morgan's Bluff |  10.5 Hours  |  76 Miles 

We were already underway as the sun rose over trees on Norman's Cay. Spartina followed along behind us for two hours until Pete diverted east to Nassau and we veered slightly west. We were making good time and soon reached the Tongue of the Ocean just south of New Providence. At the pictured change in water color, the bottom falls away rapidly. We went from 20 feet of water to 2,000 feet in the span of a minute. Looking to starboard we got one last look at Bravo Eugenia, the megayacht owned by Jerry Jones. We have seen this boat up and down the Exumas on both trips now. It is hard to miss. Also conspicuous were the three striped towers at the the New Providence power plant.

Once north of New Providence our breeze almost disappeared and our final four hours were quite warm -- just like a summer day on the Chesapeake. Latitude Adjustment fell in behind us and we headed to northern tip of Andros and the entrance to Morgan's Bluff. The beached tug I remembered from last year was still at the far end of the anchorage. We dropped the hook and quickly worked on our checklist for tomorrow's cross back to the US. Barry readied the ditch bag and I prepared tonight's dinner and a pasta salad with chicken for tomorrow's dinner underway. Our final Bahamian sunset occurred out the saloon door, the perfect view from the galley.

We will lose our cell service early tomorrow morning and won't regain it until Tuesday mid-day when we reenter US waters. There will be no blog post until that time. 

The Sun Sets on Our Time in The Exumas

Big Major's Spot to Norman's Cay |  5.3 Hours  |  35 Miles 

Once again I watched the sun rise over Pig Beach. Pete took Spartina out of the anchorage at first light. Xtasea came by for a final farewell as Amy and Rex headed back to Black Point. We pulled up the anchor and joined in the boat parade north. To the east we passed so many spots that I had hoped to revisit this year. I still can't believe that we're on our way home after only five weeks here. On the one hand, there's no better place to practice social distancing than at anchor in The Bahamas. On the other hand, with all the imposed border closures and quarantines, we're not sure if we could get back home if we kept to our original schedule. So we join with the millions of other folks inconvenienced and disappointed by the COVID-19 outbreak. After a few hours, we caught up with Spartina and I was glad to capture a few boat pics for Pete. Ironically, today was our best cruising day so far. The waves were flat, the wind light, the sky a medium blue, and the clouds white and fluffy. March has finally transitioned from lion to lamb. I was able to sit up on the flybridge and enjoyed every minute of the view.

We anchored off Norman's Cay just after low tide. We dropped the dinghy and set off to visit the plane wreck. I needed to christen the wetsuit that I had received for Christmas before returning home. The weathered remains of the fuselage rose from the water's surface. I exited the dinghy and snorkeled around a bit. The picture is poor, but kind of looks like a plane. There were a few fish swimming around in the crater, but the current was pretty strong so I didn't stay in long. Mission accomplished on getting the wetsuit wet. We ducked into the channel for Norman's Cay Marina and were pleased to see that it was open and three large boat were inside. Signs on both sides of the breakwater made it clear that it was a "private marina." While in the channel we snuck up on the largest turtle I had ever seen in the wild. There is no visual proof though as the camera had already been put back in the bag. We returned to the Crossroads and had a few hours to relax before dinner.

I went to the pilothouse roof where I soaked up some rays and enjoyed the view one more time.

We took a break during dinner to watch our final Exumas sunset for this trip. Sure hoping we can come back again next year.

Talk of The Town

Big Major's Spot   

We enjoyed a slow morning onboard with no plans other than to stay put for the day. I read on Fiberglass Beach and enjoyed the warm sunshine. Pete came over and we began our latest discussion of weather, travel plans, and the latest virus news. A fresh spinach salad topped with turkey and corn salsa was a special onboard lunch treat and I savored every bite. The early afternoon hours were occupied by more reading with occasional retreats inside as small showers passed through. At 4:00 we headed to Cruisers/Pirates Beach with a group of other boaters which included Amy and Rex from Xtasea. We sat around for several hours discussing the same three topics -- weather, travel plans, and virus. After a while, it just became too much to stress over so I went off to explore the many things brought ashore by cruisers. Many new items had been added since we were last here a few days ago. Tossing the cornhole bags provided a great diversion.

Folks came and went during the three hours we were there. A dinghy carrying a German shepherd and black lab landed and the dogs put on quite a show. We stayed until the sun set and then returned to Crossroads well after our normal dinner time. We will depart in the morning -- after another check of weather and virus news -- and head back north to Norman's Cay.

A Visit With The Pigs

Big Major's Spot   

Final farewells with Ti Amo were exchanged as they passed alongside us just after first light. I watched as they shrank into the western horizon and then turned my attention back to the sun rising in the east. No "red in the morning warning" was a good sign for safe travels. Soon thereafter, Carl and Debi on River Rat were passing by as well. Once the sun rose high enough to illuminate the sand on Pig Beach, we hopped in the dinghy and visited the world-famous swimming swine. The porcine patrol greeted us as soon as we landed on the beach. We brought a few nibbles of food for them and Barry attempted to appease them with hand signals for "no more" while looking like The Pig Whisperer attempting Jedi mind tricks. "This is not the food you're looking for."

The tour boats had already arrived and there were plenty of other folks on the beach with us. We left the feeding to excited newbies and stood back and observed the pigs performing. The big ones were intimidating, the medium sized ones cute, and the babies were adorable. 

They were also smart. This one knew very well that Barry had more food in his pocket, and grabbed his shorts to show him where. I found an interesting sea star in the surf and picked it up to show its large size. I saved the last of our apple scraps for this well-mannered little guy.

While pigs and people were splashing about, I followed a large ray gliding through shallow water. I was excited to get this shot of it swimming through a school of fish. From there it was back to Crossroads to reload the dinghy and head over to Staniel Cay. We dropped off some trash and then stopped for lunch on the deck overlooking the docks. One final mango daiquiri hit the spot. As we ate, a fisherman filleted a snapper at the fish cleaning table and tossed the head and bones into the water. A feeding frenzy erupted among at least six sharks. We stopped for a quick look at the "friendly" sharks before we headed off to the grocery store. The seawall is painted with images of the famous pigs

and a large "Welcome to Staniel Cay" message. We walked the yacht club's beach to get the whole image. The mail boat had come in overnight and the Pink store was well-stocked with fruit, veggies, bread, and dairy products. We headed back to Crossroads and unloaded everything into the refrigerator. A brief shower thwarted our run into an afternoon gathering on Pirate Beach. We waited a bit for the rain to clear and then went over to Spartina and visited with Pete for a while before calling it a day and returning to Crossroads for dinner.

Smile Because It Happened

Big Major's Spot   

Our morning began with a quick trip into the beach with Ti Amo for some much needed leg stretching. Jaxon raced up and back through the sand for half an hour, but also stopped for an occasional swim. From there it was back onboard to reset for lunch at Staniel Cay Yacht Club. Crossroads and Ti Amo joined Xtasea, River Rat and Spartina in our own little Deltaville reunion. Conversation drifted back and forth from weather to virus, and the ramifications of each. Ti Amo and River Rat will depart tomorrow and head north. The rest of us will hang around the southern Exumas a bit longer and look to head further east. Glenda and I enjoyed some frozen refreshment in celebration of all the smiles shared over some great days together. Following lunch, we moved outside where colorful bougainvillea hedges lined the sidewalks. Blooms of red, pink, fuchsia, and salmon all mixed together in a vibrant display.

After a few quick photos, our group split up with these three holding down the fort while the others walked up to check out the three grocery stores. We checked off most of our shopping lists and also found a few unexpected treats. If you're looking for toilet paper, the Pink Store in Staniel Cay has a good supply. Happy to find fresh milk, we took it directly back to the refrigerator onboard. A little afternoon reading was interrupted by a shower, but it moved through quickly and we all gathered on Pirate Beach for late afternoon appys.

A farewell dinner aboard Ti Amo ended our five days together. Waiting four months for this reunion was tough. Our time together has flown by, but we have made many great memories to keep us going until our next reunion in May. We will definitely smile while remembering what just happened here in the Exumas. Thankfully, we have plenty of photos to help.

Making the Turn for Home

Black Point to Big Major's Spot  |  1.5 Hours  |  8 Miles 

Black Point is my favorite spot in the Exumas. Everything is here: protected harbor, beautiful water, great walking paths, friendly folks, restaurants, groceries, homemade bread, and the best laundromat around. Glenda picked me up at 7:45 with a goal to be first in line for the washers, which we were. We waited on the covered deck and chatted as we looked out over the anchorage. Out the door on the other side of the building dwarf banana trees struggled to hold their bountiful yield. Even the view while loading the dryer is perfect. It sure beats my view while doing laundry in our basement back home. Even the sign is great, No swearing. Meanwhile, Barry was back on Crossroads working on a few maintenance projects. Glenda and I made a quick stop in for a final resupply of homemade bread and then headed back to our boats. Ti Amo soon hoisted their anchor and headed on out. We made a final trash run and then decided to have lunch before pulling up the hook and also heading north. Technically, I guess we're on our way home.

It was a short trip up to Big Major's Spot. We anchored behind Ti Amo, just off of Pig Beach. Rex and Amy from Xtasea came over to say hello and we later joined them for appys aboard their boat. The pleasant surprise of the day was having Jaxon come and entertain me for a few hours while his mom and dad went to dinner. We played. He slept. We played some more. I scratched his ears and enjoyed every minute. Hope Jaxon did as well. He was smiling. A beautiful sunset perfectly capped off another great day.

Home Cooking

Lee Stocking Island to Black Point  |  4.5 Hours  |  31 Miles 

We joined in the mass exodus from the Williams Cay anchorage this morning. Our little single-file parade passed through Adderly Cut, its stone beacon rising off to our port. The large majority of boats turned north once reaching Exuma Sound. We found a reasonably smooth heading and settled in 1-2 miles behind Ti Amo. I enjoyed watching their beautiful boat zip through the water. I pulled out the long lens to catch a few photos. Their heel revealed a nice coat of red bottom paint. We were a bit rolly in the beam sea, but were never too uncomfortable. We were thankful, however, to make the turn into Dothan Cut and quickly round into the Black Point anchorage. Greg, Glenda, and Jaxon picked me up in their dinghy and the girls made a quick scouting trip into town. We checked the inventories of three small grocery stores, chatted with Miss Ida about tomorrow's opening time at the laundromat, and checked on the availability of homemade bread. All critical issues for cruisers. The view from the dinghy dock of the blue water never ceases to amaze. 

We all gathered aboard Crossroads for a taste of home with appys and dinner. We started off with stuffed peppers (courtesy of Aunt B), cheese and crackers. Our dinner entree was crabcakes from Deltaville's J&W Seafood. I had brought these back at Christmas in anticipation of this dinner together. Uncle Bennett's green beans, quinoa rice, and Glenda's slaw completed the menu. Everyone cleaned their plate just before FaceTime-ing with Glenda's grandkids. It was a huge treat for me to get to see and hear everyone back home. With only a few minutes to spare, we made our way up to the flybridge to watch the sunset. Noticing a clear horizon, there was talk of possibly seeing a green flash. Sure enough, just as the sun sank into the horizon, the green appeared for a brief moment. Woohoo, my first green flash! And it was made more memorable by sharing it with dear friends. We said goodnight, as the orange in the sky deepened. The colors stayed visible for what seemed like a half hour. On days like these, it is only natural to want them to never end. 

Another Smile-Filled Day

Lee Stocking Island 

It was a slow morning in the calm anchorage of Williams Cay. The best seat in the house was on the flybridge where I enjoyed the view over breakfast and then transitioned to a little reading. At 11:00 we joined Ti Amo, River Rat, and a few other cruisers for a dinghy trip to Leaf Cay and a visit with the pink iguanas. In a scene similar to West Side Story, the lines and humans and reptiles converge. Folks slide out of their inflatables and the iguanas leave their shady spots in the rocks. The parties meet at an invisible line in the sand, where the iguanas have been conditioned to expect food and the humans are more than eager to offer up lettuce and celery in exchange for a few photos.     

With an initial dose of caution we all came to a mutual acceptance of one another. This medium-sized iguana gently took the leafy treat from my fingers. Once all the food was gone, the iguanas retreated to their limestone crevices and we walked around to the north side of the sandy beach. It was close to high tide and a large warm pool of water reached far up on the beach. There were a few little fish in the pools, darting through gentle ripples, but no shells or sea beans.

While walking around we were fortunate to have Jaxon on patrol. He was quite interested in the odd-looking, similarly-sized (although much heavier) creatures and was ready to go play with one that was equally curious about him. Ultimately we took turns watching the little guy ...

... and keeping him safely above the action. All parties stood for final photos before loading back into their dinghies and setting off for the beach of Norman's Pond Cay. We saw several juvenile conch as we walked around the point trough the ankle-deep water. The pink and salmon colors of their shells were beautiful through the shimmer of the shallow water. Their smooth undersides were even more colorful. The conch are being over-harvested and their numbers are plummeting so it was good to see several occupied shells. Then it was back to the anchorage to grab lunch and drink some water. We enjoyed an afternoon visit with Ti Amo and then relaxed for a few hours.

After an early dinner, everyone gathered on a small beach to watch the sunset. I found the best view was roughly 100 yards from shore, in knee-high water. Sea stars dotted the sandy bottom as the sun dipped just off the point of land. Jaxon was still full of energy and raced up and down the beach. As the stars in the sky emerged from darkness, a bonfire in the sand burned bright and warm. We soon called it a night and headed back to Crossroads to close another smile-filled day.