Two days back on terra firma, the motion of the ocean continues. A slight case of land sickness follows me down the dock. It only takes a quick turn of the head... up, down or to the side to bring a brief sensation of surfing down a wave.
The barrage of questions have begun.. "Well, have you got it out of your system yet?" "Are you done?" "How can you bear living in such a small space?" And the most heartbreaking question of all, "When are you moving home forever Mom Mom?" hits hard. The answers are no, no, it's big enough to be comfortable, and finally, dear seven year old granddaughter Lexi, I don't know, but I will carry you my heart wherever I go.
Imagine will soon leave its watery berth for a spot on land for the summer. Major maintenance projects will fill the hot summer days and most likely cause me to wonder why I want to continue to do this thing called cruising. Images of aquamarine waters, deserted beaches, and kayaking over reefs while family and friend scrape ice and snow from their cars should keep me on track.
The entire head (toilet) will come out. The floor and pedestal must be rebuilt. Hoses that only a contortionist can reach must be replaced under the sink. The overhead (ceiling) will be dismantled so that all cabin top deck hardware can be re-bedded. That means all 14 over head lights must be taken down as well. The mast boot that keeps water from coming in needs to be replaced. Anchor chain must be replaced. A shackle that doesn't fit through the bow roller will be upgraded. It gets old lifting the 45-pound anchor over the roller each time the anchor is deployed and brought back on board.
That is only the beginning of the fun. The entire bottom paint must be removed and sanded down to fiberglass as large chips are flaking. The deck around rear stanchions have cracks than must be ground out and re-glassed, courtesy of a storm at sea which caused the straps holding a dinghy in the davits to chafe. That in turn caused the dinghy to swing violently enough to bend the davits and cause the cracks. The non-skid needs to be repainted and bright work as well. Are you tired yet? I am.
Canvas must come off for repairs at the snaps. Saltwater plays havoc on the zippers. Some have to be replaced. The radar must be fixed. The water maker needs a new end cap. The 30 year old propane oven and stove will be refitted. Portholes will also come out for re bedding. Old gaskets on all hatches and portholes will be removed and replaced. New copper sheathing will be run inside along the hull for the single sideband radio connection quality.
Oh yes, in case you haven't guessed. Imagine has a leak, a major leak coming from over the starboard settee, but only when it rains or when salt water washes over the decks.
Ed and I will do all repairs and upgrades ourselves. We will probably get into a few arguments over how to get the work done. I lean towards the perfectionist side. He is more of a minimalist. Sometimes compromise is in order, sometimes not.
When things get overwhelming and I feel like chucking it all and going back to the status quo kind of life, I'll have to stop and remember why the blue water keeps calling me back.
Durning nearly 20 years working at Meals on Wheels too many clients and volunteers lamented about dreams they never lived. The story goes, "We were always going to do that, but my wife (or husband) got sick." Living a dream sometimes means sacrifice. In my case. I seem to always be saying goodbye to family and friends. I miss my grandchildren. I get to do boat maintenance that I'd rather not.
On the flip side, I get to kayak along sea turtles and dolphins. I watch starfish move ever so slowly along a white sandy bottom. At night I watch meteor showers streak across the sky. Beaches offer treasures of shells and sea glass. There are uninhabited islands to explore. Soft tropical breezes caress my face.
Sailing has gifted me with experiences that have etched into my memories. The brilliant indescribable hues and colors of water that change from moment to moment as the sun and clouds move across the sky never cease to capture my imagination. Blue holes, tropic birds, and ghost crabs that scamper across the fine white sand of an empty beach cause me to appreciate nature at its best.
I've watched pods of pilot whales breach in Exuma Sound. Pink Iguanas came out from the brush and rocky hiding places to greet us on the beach at Leaf Cay. On other days, I hiked through blooming tropical bushes on the way to the beach. Colorful anolis lizards sporting colors of green and blue race across the path to hide in the foliage. In the morning evidence that hermit crabs and sea turtles roamed the beaches at night are left by a criss crossing if tracks.
Working on the boat isn't going to be fun, but that's why it's called work. Living on a boat requires a lot of maintenance. The call of the blue water beckons. The work must get done before the call can be answered again, at least for one more year.
June 4, 2013
May 21, 2013
A long journey home
The call of home becomes louder as the month of May leans towards June. It hasn't been the easiest return trip, but it has been full of adventure. Some I could have done without.
Imagine left Frazers Hog in the Berry Islands on May 11 heading for Fort Pierce, Florida and then into Vero Beach. Of course, we became a motor sailer as the wind died and came around behind us.
The adventure began around 2:00 a.m. when the building clouds obscured the moon and the stars. The grey horizon quickly became black. Winds picked up to 30 knots and lightening crackled the sky. I huddled in the cockpit keeping my eye on our rhumb line and wondering why the heck I was doing this anyway. The fortunate thing about squalls is that they don't last long.
As they squall line moved southeast, Imagine bobbed northwest moving along at 9.2 knots with a boost from the Gulf Stream. That's when I noticed a boat coming towards us. I changed course ten degrees to port which would give the other boat plenty of room to pass on Imagine's starboard stern. That's when the mysterious boat turned towards Imagine again. I hailed the vessel to determine its course. No one answered. I made a decision to tack 40 degrees starboard. It worked. The other vessel was now on a perpendicular course off our port beam.
The next step was to get back on the rhumb line for Fort Pierce. I glanced left and noticed that the boat which had been moving away had turned and was heading back towards Imagine. The red and green bow lights grew brighter as it moved closer. At that point the adrenaline began to pump.
What is going on? I hadn't heard about any pirates near Bahamian waters. Was a drug boat waiting for another boat and mistaken Imagine for it? Why aren't they answering the radio? Then blinding spotlights light up the night shining into the cockpit.
I yell for Ed to wake up. "Something funny is going on. You need to get up here quick!" I shout. He peeks out and is immediately awake. He grabs the radio and asks the vessel to identify itself.
At that point the United States Coast Guard announces that it is a Coast Guard cutter and asks us our last port of call and destination. The questions via radio continue, boat documentation number, names, birth dates, home address and are we carrying any illegal cargo?
Finally the Coast Guard explained that they stopped us because they couldn't identify our light configuration. They could see we were under sail but the light configuration indicated a trawler, a white light under a green. Our steaming light was on because we were a sailboat with sails up, but under power. The tri-color light on the mast head was in working order. "Oh now I see it," The young coast guard man replied when Ed asked if the red light was working on the tri-color.
The coast guard wished us a safe journey and thanked us for our cooperation. It's nice to know that the Coast Guard is out on the waters at night. They were doing their job patrolling the seas. However, it would have been nice to know who they were before I nearly wet my pants.
Twenty-nine hours later Imagine sits quietly on a mooring ball at Vero Beach City Marina. After three days in Vero, re-provisioning, doing laundry and resting, the journey north resumes.
The next stop was near the Kennedy Space Center, anchored north of the Addison Point Bridge. We had a front row seat for the U.S. Air Force rocket launch, which put a global positioning device into space. The low rumble followed the fiery trail of the rocket as it disappeared into the atmosphere.
Before dawn, Imagine began chugging north along the Intracoastal Waterway going through 15 bridges, seven of them opening bridges. Manatees greeted us at Haulover Canal. Dolphins enjoyed wallowing in our wake. Fishing kayaks, skiffs and boats dotted the waterway. At its edges fishermen stood chest deep in waters looking for a catch while bald headed pelicans looked for free handouts.
It was a long 12.5 hour day to the mooring ball at St. Augustine, but the scenery was beautiful. Mangroves and live oaks with grey moss beards. Fishing camps and mansions offer a myriad of views to break up the day.
The next three days would be spent out on the Atlantic Ocean heading towards Beaufort, N.C. Inlet and up to Bear Creek where we would finally get a good night's sleep.
The best thing about that leg were the dolphins. They must hear the boat cutting through the waves because they come leaping out of the water, catching air and diving again and again as they leapfrog towards Imagine and then begin frolicking in the wake at our stern.
The worst thing was that the weather forecast for a slim chance of an isolated squall became a dark squall line that followed us for several hours. The winds during the storms gusted to 30 knots and the two to four foot seas become six to eight. Imagine raced under a double reefed mainsail. Rain and hail pelted into the open sides of the cockpit. Turning five miles off course helped us avoid most of the nasty weather. Needless to say I was more than happy to get off the squally lumpy sea.
As this is written, Imagine is tethered to a dock in Coinjock, N.C. The next leg of the journey will put us in the Chesapeake Bay and only three days from GRANDCHILDREN! It's been a long 3,222 miles since Imagine left port last fall. Coming home might just be my most favorite part of the trip.
Imagine left Frazers Hog in the Berry Islands on May 11 heading for Fort Pierce, Florida and then into Vero Beach. Of course, we became a motor sailer as the wind died and came around behind us.
The adventure began around 2:00 a.m. when the building clouds obscured the moon and the stars. The grey horizon quickly became black. Winds picked up to 30 knots and lightening crackled the sky. I huddled in the cockpit keeping my eye on our rhumb line and wondering why the heck I was doing this anyway. The fortunate thing about squalls is that they don't last long.
As they squall line moved southeast, Imagine bobbed northwest moving along at 9.2 knots with a boost from the Gulf Stream. That's when I noticed a boat coming towards us. I changed course ten degrees to port which would give the other boat plenty of room to pass on Imagine's starboard stern. That's when the mysterious boat turned towards Imagine again. I hailed the vessel to determine its course. No one answered. I made a decision to tack 40 degrees starboard. It worked. The other vessel was now on a perpendicular course off our port beam.
The next step was to get back on the rhumb line for Fort Pierce. I glanced left and noticed that the boat which had been moving away had turned and was heading back towards Imagine. The red and green bow lights grew brighter as it moved closer. At that point the adrenaline began to pump.
What is going on? I hadn't heard about any pirates near Bahamian waters. Was a drug boat waiting for another boat and mistaken Imagine for it? Why aren't they answering the radio? Then blinding spotlights light up the night shining into the cockpit.
I yell for Ed to wake up. "Something funny is going on. You need to get up here quick!" I shout. He peeks out and is immediately awake. He grabs the radio and asks the vessel to identify itself.
At that point the United States Coast Guard announces that it is a Coast Guard cutter and asks us our last port of call and destination. The questions via radio continue, boat documentation number, names, birth dates, home address and are we carrying any illegal cargo?
Finally the Coast Guard explained that they stopped us because they couldn't identify our light configuration. They could see we were under sail but the light configuration indicated a trawler, a white light under a green. Our steaming light was on because we were a sailboat with sails up, but under power. The tri-color light on the mast head was in working order. "Oh now I see it," The young coast guard man replied when Ed asked if the red light was working on the tri-color.
The coast guard wished us a safe journey and thanked us for our cooperation. It's nice to know that the Coast Guard is out on the waters at night. They were doing their job patrolling the seas. However, it would have been nice to know who they were before I nearly wet my pants.
Twenty-nine hours later Imagine sits quietly on a mooring ball at Vero Beach City Marina. After three days in Vero, re-provisioning, doing laundry and resting, the journey north resumes.
The next stop was near the Kennedy Space Center, anchored north of the Addison Point Bridge. We had a front row seat for the U.S. Air Force rocket launch, which put a global positioning device into space. The low rumble followed the fiery trail of the rocket as it disappeared into the atmosphere.
Before dawn, Imagine began chugging north along the Intracoastal Waterway going through 15 bridges, seven of them opening bridges. Manatees greeted us at Haulover Canal. Dolphins enjoyed wallowing in our wake. Fishing kayaks, skiffs and boats dotted the waterway. At its edges fishermen stood chest deep in waters looking for a catch while bald headed pelicans looked for free handouts.
It was a long 12.5 hour day to the mooring ball at St. Augustine, but the scenery was beautiful. Mangroves and live oaks with grey moss beards. Fishing camps and mansions offer a myriad of views to break up the day.
The next three days would be spent out on the Atlantic Ocean heading towards Beaufort, N.C. Inlet and up to Bear Creek where we would finally get a good night's sleep.
The best thing about that leg were the dolphins. They must hear the boat cutting through the waves because they come leaping out of the water, catching air and diving again and again as they leapfrog towards Imagine and then begin frolicking in the wake at our stern.
The worst thing was that the weather forecast for a slim chance of an isolated squall became a dark squall line that followed us for several hours. The winds during the storms gusted to 30 knots and the two to four foot seas become six to eight. Imagine raced under a double reefed mainsail. Rain and hail pelted into the open sides of the cockpit. Turning five miles off course helped us avoid most of the nasty weather. Needless to say I was more than happy to get off the squally lumpy sea.
As this is written, Imagine is tethered to a dock in Coinjock, N.C. The next leg of the journey will put us in the Chesapeake Bay and only three days from GRANDCHILDREN! It's been a long 3,222 miles since Imagine left port last fall. Coming home might just be my most favorite part of the trip.
May 7, 2013
Invasion of a species
For more than an hour the mama and baby bottle-nose dolphins swam circles around Imagine. Actually it was more like ovals. They pair dived and rolled, catching fish and frolicking. It was as if they knew they had a captive audience. The baby never strayed far from mama as the wild creatures maintained a safe 20 foot distance from the anchored boat.
It was one of those aha kind of moments when you know that there is beauty and hope for a world that seems to have gone astray. Under a nearly cloudless sky, swimming in the crystalline waters of Elizabeth Harbor off Great Exuma Island in the Bahamas, the dolphin duo became a reminder that all of Earth's creatures have a role to play in this world that we share.
It seems that our old world is wearing out. As populations explode and wilderness is devoured by bulldozers and backhoes, there are fewer and fewer spaces that wild creatures can call home. Ecosystems have become compromised and pristine areas endangered as man continues to look for paradise.
The solemn beauty and magical elegance of the colorful coral reef plays an important role in the survival of our scarred and tired planet. While these majestic formations only account for one percent of the ocean surface, over 25 percent of all marine life begins here.
Andros Island in the Bahamas is home to the third largest barrier reef in the world. Only the Great Barrier Reef in Australia and the Meso American Barrier Reef along the Yucatan Peninsula are larger. Of the world's reef systems, Bahamian reefs account for nearly eight percent of that total.
An established reef breaks up wave action and protects seagrass beds and mangroves, from erosion. In turn the mangroves and grass beds protect the reef from light filtering silt, freshwater runoff and pollutants. The simple beauty of a mother and baby dolphin fishing was all that it took to remind me of how fragile our world can be. Many of the fish that will feed baby dolphin began life around a reef.
In some areas Bahamian reef systems already struggle for survival. Climate related events such as hurricanes can damage a reef. Pollution from golf course runoff, sewage and damage from development continues to threaten this underwater world.
Invasive species have been attributed to creating an unbalance in the ecosystem of the Bahamian reef. In the early 1990's the red lion fish (pterois volitans) could only be found in aquariums and in the South Pacific and Indian oceans. The popular aquarium fish was thought to be released in Florida waters during Hurricane Andrew in 1992. This prolific species live under rocks, rocky shores and reefs. It can grow up to 18 inches and live as long as 10 years. It's spines, while not deadly to humans, contain a toxin that protects the predator from other predators. The lion fish has been found as far north as Rhode Island.
Scientists at Lee Stocking Island in the Bahamas discovered that the lion fish has a voracious appetite for native fishes, and can reduce the population of those native fish by up to 85 percent over a five week period. (Dr. Mark Hixon, Oregon State University).
With few natural predators, other than large groupers, the lion fish has adapted well in West Indian waters. There is open season on the lion fish and divers are encouraged to eliminate and report all that they see. It is easy to understand why this fish is considered invasive.
However, U.S. Executive Order 13112 defines "invasive species" as "an alien species whose introduction does or is likely to cause economic or environmental harm or harm to human health.
While the environment in the Bahamas and the United States might survive the invasion of the lion fish, there is another more damaging invasive species that may prove the most destructive of all. That species is man. Around the world, men and women waste important resources like water and fossil fuel. Plastic is dumped into oceans. Lights are left on. Trips in a vehicle are not synchronized to maximize time or fuel. Trash piles up in the form of recyclables and non recyclables. Medical waste washes up on shores. There is always a newer, better, and not really needed, gadget to buy. Food is wasted. Mega housing clusters appear where stately forest and productive farmland once stood.
Waters of of many rivers and lakes are not as clear. Deserts are being watered and rain-forests cleared. Lights dim the brilliance of the skies. Poor stewardship of our planet has already caused environmental harm. Song birds are disappearing. Asthma is on the rise and storms seem to be getting more damaging.
Perhaps it is too late to stop man's destruction, but there is certainly time to slow it to down. Living on a boat has taught me how live with less. I am careful to protect sea grass beds and reefs from the destructive gouge of a 45 pound anchor. My carbon footprint is only a fraction of what it once was. Can I improve. I'm certain of it.
Sharing a moment with mama dolphin and her baby was what I needed to remind myself that I want this experience for those who follow. Fifty years from now, I want my grandchildren to share a moment like this with their children. Our planet is capable of healing. If left alone Mother Nature will sooth and erase the scars left by man. The question is, will man allow it?
It was one of those aha kind of moments when you know that there is beauty and hope for a world that seems to have gone astray. Under a nearly cloudless sky, swimming in the crystalline waters of Elizabeth Harbor off Great Exuma Island in the Bahamas, the dolphin duo became a reminder that all of Earth's creatures have a role to play in this world that we share.
It seems that our old world is wearing out. As populations explode and wilderness is devoured by bulldozers and backhoes, there are fewer and fewer spaces that wild creatures can call home. Ecosystems have become compromised and pristine areas endangered as man continues to look for paradise.
The solemn beauty and magical elegance of the colorful coral reef plays an important role in the survival of our scarred and tired planet. While these majestic formations only account for one percent of the ocean surface, over 25 percent of all marine life begins here.
Andros Island in the Bahamas is home to the third largest barrier reef in the world. Only the Great Barrier Reef in Australia and the Meso American Barrier Reef along the Yucatan Peninsula are larger. Of the world's reef systems, Bahamian reefs account for nearly eight percent of that total.
An established reef breaks up wave action and protects seagrass beds and mangroves, from erosion. In turn the mangroves and grass beds protect the reef from light filtering silt, freshwater runoff and pollutants. The simple beauty of a mother and baby dolphin fishing was all that it took to remind me of how fragile our world can be. Many of the fish that will feed baby dolphin began life around a reef.
In some areas Bahamian reef systems already struggle for survival. Climate related events such as hurricanes can damage a reef. Pollution from golf course runoff, sewage and damage from development continues to threaten this underwater world.
Invasive species have been attributed to creating an unbalance in the ecosystem of the Bahamian reef. In the early 1990's the red lion fish (pterois volitans) could only be found in aquariums and in the South Pacific and Indian oceans. The popular aquarium fish was thought to be released in Florida waters during Hurricane Andrew in 1992. This prolific species live under rocks, rocky shores and reefs. It can grow up to 18 inches and live as long as 10 years. It's spines, while not deadly to humans, contain a toxin that protects the predator from other predators. The lion fish has been found as far north as Rhode Island.
Scientists at Lee Stocking Island in the Bahamas discovered that the lion fish has a voracious appetite for native fishes, and can reduce the population of those native fish by up to 85 percent over a five week period. (Dr. Mark Hixon, Oregon State University).
With few natural predators, other than large groupers, the lion fish has adapted well in West Indian waters. There is open season on the lion fish and divers are encouraged to eliminate and report all that they see. It is easy to understand why this fish is considered invasive.
However, U.S. Executive Order 13112 defines "invasive species" as "an alien species whose introduction does or is likely to cause economic or environmental harm or harm to human health.
While the environment in the Bahamas and the United States might survive the invasion of the lion fish, there is another more damaging invasive species that may prove the most destructive of all. That species is man. Around the world, men and women waste important resources like water and fossil fuel. Plastic is dumped into oceans. Lights are left on. Trips in a vehicle are not synchronized to maximize time or fuel. Trash piles up in the form of recyclables and non recyclables. Medical waste washes up on shores. There is always a newer, better, and not really needed, gadget to buy. Food is wasted. Mega housing clusters appear where stately forest and productive farmland once stood.
Waters of of many rivers and lakes are not as clear. Deserts are being watered and rain-forests cleared. Lights dim the brilliance of the skies. Poor stewardship of our planet has already caused environmental harm. Song birds are disappearing. Asthma is on the rise and storms seem to be getting more damaging.
Perhaps it is too late to stop man's destruction, but there is certainly time to slow it to down. Living on a boat has taught me how live with less. I am careful to protect sea grass beds and reefs from the destructive gouge of a 45 pound anchor. My carbon footprint is only a fraction of what it once was. Can I improve. I'm certain of it.
Sharing a moment with mama dolphin and her baby was what I needed to remind myself that I want this experience for those who follow. Fifty years from now, I want my grandchildren to share a moment like this with their children. Our planet is capable of healing. If left alone Mother Nature will sooth and erase the scars left by man. The question is, will man allow it?
April 30, 2013
Regatta butterflies
The traditional Bahamian sailing sloops move like graceful white butterflies, tilting left and right, crossing and racing over a field of blue. Encouragement is shouted from small boats following the fleet. On land spectators line the shore rooting for their favorite sloop. Sea wall sailors yell instruction and dismay as would the armchair quarterback or backseat driver.
This year the National Family Island Regatta celebrates its 60th anniversary and the very young nation of the Bahamas celebrates is 40th year of independence (July10). Maintaining national unity in the archipelago of nearly 700 islands and cays that separate the country can prove challenging. Those challenges have given Bahamians both strength as a nation and a cultural legacy of life on the water, of sailing and reaching out to their nearby neighbors.
The National Regatta is held each April in Georgetown, Great Exuma. The event brings participants and spectators from Family Islands throughout the Bahamas. Boat builders and sailors from Acklins, Ragged, Andros, Great Guana, Staniel, Long, Cat, Abaco, New Providence and other islands begin arriving on mailboats and ferries the weekend prior to the event.
The camaraderie is there, but also a fierce competition among the participants. The sailors of Staniel Cay have been highly successful over the years with their sleek white and blue Class A boats, The Lady Muriel and Tida Wave. On the back of a T-shirt the message was clear, "On land, We friends."
Along Kidds Cove, and road leading to the government dock and Regatta Point, food shacks and conch stands spring up overnight. Souse, steamed mutton, cracked conch, conch fritters, plantains, peas and rice and other native Bahamian dishes draw lines at dinner time.
Friends reunite, hug and catch up. Strangers don't remain that way very long. The nation may be separated by islands, but Bahamians are not strangers. Each person seems to have a relative or friend on each island. The festival of Regatta continues all over Georgetown. At Regatta Park, vendors sell homemade goodies and souvenirs. The straw market boasts a variety of T-shirts, hats and straw work to commemorate the event. All along the one way road throughout town, vendors sell their goods. Visitors and Bahamians smile, nod, and have a great time.
The tension and excitement builds as Georgetown's population swells. Music plays a large part in the five day event. Across Elizabeth Harbor, on Imagine, we can hear the bass from powerful speakers begin a thump, thump in the morning that lasts through the wee hours of the next.
Regatta goes out with a bang on Saturday with music by the Royal Bahamas Police Force Band which just happens to be celebrating its 120th anniversary. Leading up to the finale, the Barretarre Performers, the Exuma Youth Marching Band and other Bahamian entertainers will keep the festivities going. Bahamian children climb into trees and on rooftops to get a great view.
The Bahamas Office on Tourism reports that an estimated 65 boats compete in the five classes which are A, B, C, D and E. About $325,000 is spent facilitating the Regatta. The Government is a major sponsor together, committee fundraising, and help from a number of corporate entities and local businesses.
Bahamian history recalls that Regatta began as the age of sail began to wane, giving way to motorized boats. The working fleet of Bahamian smacks and sloops were not in good repair. A group of Bahamian and American Yachtsmen came up with an idea to hold a race for the working craft throughout the Bahamas. They knew that Bahamians were up to the challenge and many would upgrade their vessels for a chance of bragging rights and glory.
According to the history of the National Family Island Regatta by Harland Bottomly, In April 1954 nearly 70 Bahamian sloops, schooners and dinghies gathered in Elizabeth Harbor for three days of sailing An Out Island squadron formed after the successful regatta to make this an annual event. That organization lasted through 1987 when it became the National Family Island Regatta Committee.
Today, Danny Strachan leads as Chairman and Commodore of the committee. He said that while the event began humbly to test the skills of the workboat owners, the regatta has turned into a premier sailing event in the country that brings visitors and people from all strata of society in harmony and friendship.
Each year the committee honors Bahamian sailors who have led the way and distinguished themselves in the growth and development of sloop sailing. This year's honorees are Captain Emmett Monroe of Ragged Island, Brooks Milller of Staniel Cay, Captain Harry Harding of Long Island and Eleazar Johnson of Acklins. All have left their name in the annuals of regatta fame.
The sailing sloops of modern day are now made for racing and not carting fish, sponge, sisal, or goods. The boats are sleeker, the masts taller and the booms longer. When the start gun blasts, anchors are pulled, sails are raised and the aquamarine harbor is decorated with colorful sloops and flowing white sails. The butterflies of regatta flit along, seeking advantage and the finish line at the end of the course.
The regatta celebrates sailing history. It is a cultural event. It is a celebration of boat building skills of Bahamians living throughout the islands. It is most definitely an authentic Bahamian celebration. It is a time to experience how others live and a time to make new friends.
This year the National Family Island Regatta celebrates its 60th anniversary and the very young nation of the Bahamas celebrates is 40th year of independence (July10). Maintaining national unity in the archipelago of nearly 700 islands and cays that separate the country can prove challenging. Those challenges have given Bahamians both strength as a nation and a cultural legacy of life on the water, of sailing and reaching out to their nearby neighbors.
The National Regatta is held each April in Georgetown, Great Exuma. The event brings participants and spectators from Family Islands throughout the Bahamas. Boat builders and sailors from Acklins, Ragged, Andros, Great Guana, Staniel, Long, Cat, Abaco, New Providence and other islands begin arriving on mailboats and ferries the weekend prior to the event.
The camaraderie is there, but also a fierce competition among the participants. The sailors of Staniel Cay have been highly successful over the years with their sleek white and blue Class A boats, The Lady Muriel and Tida Wave. On the back of a T-shirt the message was clear, "On land, We friends."
Along Kidds Cove, and road leading to the government dock and Regatta Point, food shacks and conch stands spring up overnight. Souse, steamed mutton, cracked conch, conch fritters, plantains, peas and rice and other native Bahamian dishes draw lines at dinner time.
Friends reunite, hug and catch up. Strangers don't remain that way very long. The nation may be separated by islands, but Bahamians are not strangers. Each person seems to have a relative or friend on each island. The festival of Regatta continues all over Georgetown. At Regatta Park, vendors sell homemade goodies and souvenirs. The straw market boasts a variety of T-shirts, hats and straw work to commemorate the event. All along the one way road throughout town, vendors sell their goods. Visitors and Bahamians smile, nod, and have a great time.
The tension and excitement builds as Georgetown's population swells. Music plays a large part in the five day event. Across Elizabeth Harbor, on Imagine, we can hear the bass from powerful speakers begin a thump, thump in the morning that lasts through the wee hours of the next.
Regatta goes out with a bang on Saturday with music by the Royal Bahamas Police Force Band which just happens to be celebrating its 120th anniversary. Leading up to the finale, the Barretarre Performers, the Exuma Youth Marching Band and other Bahamian entertainers will keep the festivities going. Bahamian children climb into trees and on rooftops to get a great view.
The Bahamas Office on Tourism reports that an estimated 65 boats compete in the five classes which are A, B, C, D and E. About $325,000 is spent facilitating the Regatta. The Government is a major sponsor together, committee fundraising, and help from a number of corporate entities and local businesses.
Bahamian history recalls that Regatta began as the age of sail began to wane, giving way to motorized boats. The working fleet of Bahamian smacks and sloops were not in good repair. A group of Bahamian and American Yachtsmen came up with an idea to hold a race for the working craft throughout the Bahamas. They knew that Bahamians were up to the challenge and many would upgrade their vessels for a chance of bragging rights and glory.
According to the history of the National Family Island Regatta by Harland Bottomly, In April 1954 nearly 70 Bahamian sloops, schooners and dinghies gathered in Elizabeth Harbor for three days of sailing An Out Island squadron formed after the successful regatta to make this an annual event. That organization lasted through 1987 when it became the National Family Island Regatta Committee.
Today, Danny Strachan leads as Chairman and Commodore of the committee. He said that while the event began humbly to test the skills of the workboat owners, the regatta has turned into a premier sailing event in the country that brings visitors and people from all strata of society in harmony and friendship.
Each year the committee honors Bahamian sailors who have led the way and distinguished themselves in the growth and development of sloop sailing. This year's honorees are Captain Emmett Monroe of Ragged Island, Brooks Milller of Staniel Cay, Captain Harry Harding of Long Island and Eleazar Johnson of Acklins. All have left their name in the annuals of regatta fame.
The sailing sloops of modern day are now made for racing and not carting fish, sponge, sisal, or goods. The boats are sleeker, the masts taller and the booms longer. When the start gun blasts, anchors are pulled, sails are raised and the aquamarine harbor is decorated with colorful sloops and flowing white sails. The butterflies of regatta flit along, seeking advantage and the finish line at the end of the course.
The regatta celebrates sailing history. It is a cultural event. It is a celebration of boat building skills of Bahamians living throughout the islands. It is most definitely an authentic Bahamian celebration. It is a time to experience how others live and a time to make new friends.
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