Weather Weirdness

Not our imagination, not simply whining because paradise is less than ideal, just the fact that this season was filled with more wind than last. What surprised us was learning that the months of December and March are historically windier months than Jan and Feb in the Abacos; so what months found us there? Yep- Dec and March. No wonder boats flock in toward late spring.

Cold fronts seemed more plentiful and double fronts kept us on our toes. While in George Town we saw our first (distant) water-spout in its early formation stage. Thankfully it did not mature into a true spout.

A spout begins to form out of the clouds- never finishes thankfully

A spout begins to form out of the clouds- never finishes though

Just because we scooted out of the Abacos early didn’t mean we’d escape some of the frontal systems that were headed south. Sat and Sun 3/23 and 3/24 were extremely hot days with highs in the upper 80s.  A massive rain and T-storm system covered the area from northern Florida (St Augustine) into North Carolina, undoubtedly dumping several inches of rain in a day-long deluge. Glad we missed that one. Our turn came Sunday with a small system, once again sent over from the Gulf Coast.

Sunday felt akin to being in a blast furnace as the wind blew 12-25kts all day with gusts 25-38kts. The temp held high at 86 during the afternoon. For once I was glad to have all that wind. We watched the rain blob inch closer (on the chartplotter), the wind speed increasing as it approached. Always looking for a photo opp, I noticed what I described as “billowing smoke clouds to the south. They were huge and lasted until the deluge began when I turned my attention to the lightning show. The next day we saw in the local paper that those clouds were real smoke from a 200 acre fire about 20 miles south. Ouch, not even yet 100% under control. Shows just how dry things are. Even Weather Underground displayed a warning.

Smoke clouds had me fooled; unfortunately they were real

Smoke clouds had me fooled; unfortunately they were real

Right after the one 38kt gust we looked around and saw a boat off its mooring, albeit under command. The boat slowly circled around the basin area during the rain storm, finally taking another mooring. To entertain ourselves we played detective. With lines hanging off her bow and the mooring pennant line still attached to the mooring ring, the vessel’s captain appeared to have made a slight mistake- as in tying a knot to form a loop in the pennant (these have no thimble, just a long line you cleat) through which lines were run to and from cleats at the bow. The marina received a call saying the pennant had broken and the boat moved to a different mooring. Captain did not make a big deal of it and said they’d be leaving in the morning anyway.

Rainbow after the storm

Rainbow after the storm

Monday morning we checked that pennant and no surprise; it was perfectly fine.  Good thing, as the marina put another boat on it before bothering to take a look. Most mooring pennants have a thimble, but if they don’t you are taking a big risk to tie a loop in it. Better to tie the bitter end around a bow cleat, then use your own line to run through the ring, attaching both ends to a bow cleat on the other side. This way you are attached to the mooring with two lines. Have to admit we didn’t feel all that bad for them; a lesson learned and not the disaster it could have been.

The relative humidity had dropped considerably. After my long, luxurious marina shower I used the hair dryer just to get my hair from wet to damp and when I combed it pieces of hair behaved as if this was the dead, dry of winter. Actually took me a second to recognize what I was experiencing as dry air is not typical wherever we are.

By Tuesday, the temp had dropped- plummeted is more like it- to 56; a drop of 30 degrees since Sunday. Yeah, thanks “up north” for giving us a taste of winter in spring!  None of this funky weather bothered the manatees and dolphins who continued their daily wanderings and feedings through the basin.  Too bad the water is so murky. Even from the dinghy in good sunlight we could just barely see the shape of a large mama manatee as she enjoyed a swim with her calf.

A Homeland Welcoming

Finished the big trip preparations; dinghy with her extra strap, jacklines on cockpit roof, loose counter items stowed, rag towels handy and departed Treasure Cay anchorage basin around 9:30am.  Low wind still which ensured a calm transit using the Don’t Rock path to get past Whale Cay. The charted path through the shallow sand bar area is good for shallow draft boats only; the closer to high tide the better. We motored through around mid-tide, seeing depths mostly deeper than 5ft, but for a few seconds 4.5ft popped up on the display.  I looked back for one more beautiful water view and crossed my fingers that we’d have a pleasant crossing.

Until next time, the water and skies so blue

Until next time, the water and skies so blue, we leave Treasure Cay behind

We had enough wind to sail which became plenty of wind to sail which made us reef as we zoomed past Green Turtle, Spanish Cay and west out of the Sea of Abaco into the wider open Little Bahamas Bank.  One sight that surprised us was the 20+ boats (one a MC 30) heading east into the Abacos. Bahamas in spring is lovely if your home base and/or schedule permit.

Dinner, which I’d prepared earlier, was eaten in calm sailing as the wind had backed down a bit and by 7pm an engine was started to assist in keeping our speed over 5kts. By midnight Ortolan was again enjoying unassisted sailing. Russ managed to get a few hours sleep, but was too noisy for me until we began motoring again at 5:15am.

At one point during the dark of this cloudy moonless night we heard a crash of thunder and watched as the area ahead of us lit up like stadium lighting accompanied by cloud to ground bolts. Uh oh. Russ quickly switched on the chart plotter’s weather/precipitation screen; I refused to look. Let’s see, we are out on the water, the only vessel with a mast. One monohull was behind us earlier, but we lost sight of their lights hours ago. Needless to say, I was extremely concerned. The showers and T-storm skimmed passed just to our south, shooting down lightning bolts that were way too close for comfort.

By 9am Tuesday the wind had completed its shift to west and with that we dropped the main in 1-2 ft seas. Exchanged the Bahamas courtesy flag for the yellow quarantine flag. The captain was happy to hear we’d sailed nearly 15 of the 27 hours we traveled to reach the beginning of the Ft. Pierce inlet.

With an incoming tide and low wind, the inlet was a piece of cake. Last year we returned on a Sunday with so much local boat traffic that I was happy to have this return be on a weekday.  One tiny problem with being one of a very few boats flying the Q flag is that it becomes a red flag for Homeland Security; as in, “hey we want to stop these guys, they’re returning from the Bahamas.” Fortunately, the distance into Ft Pierce to the ICW turnoff is long enough so if you proceed slowly the visit ends before you have to turn. Three guys, one stays on their hot-shot vessel while two come on board. One of them asks if he can look around and proceeds to do so wearing gloves. The other guy checks our boat’s documentation paperwork and Russ’s driver’s license, then asks us all kinds of questions about where we were in the Bahamas, did we have visitors, did anyone approach us to buy drugs, etc. Of course, they also pose the obvious queries about weapons and drugs on board, even including prescription drugs; no, no and no. They were polite and decent and so I gave them the courtesy of asking if I could take their picture as they left; “just get my good side” says one. Well, I guess I did 🙂

The welcoming committee departs

The welcoming committee departs