Our next stop was Green Turtle Cay. It was less that a
twenty mile trip in fairly calm seas so we didn’t start too early and kept the
speed down (to save fuel). About half way to the island, I had to increase
speed a little because our engines seemed to be running a little cold. Although
the book says 200-225 degrees is best for the engines, that would mean running
between 2000 and 2500 RPM – which would be about 15 MPH – and burning fuel like
it is going out of style. I wouldn’t do that even if I could afford it, and I
can’t afford it, so I usually run at a much less-than-optimal 160 degrees and
hope for the best. Anyway, at 8 MPH we
weren’t even getting to 150 degrees, and I thought we needed to create a little
heat in those engines.
Green Turtle Cay has several good anchorages, but the best
two are, the very imaginatively named “White Sound” and, you guessed it, “Black
Sound” in the south. We went back and forth in deciding between the two, but
finally decided to go to the northern anchorage because the entrance looked a
little deeper during low tide. Anchoring in White Sound presented a different
kind of challenge than had anchoring elsewhere, in that there were probably 20
or so other boats in the Harbor. Previously, we had anchored with only one or
two boats around. Now we would have
three additional problems. First, we would have an audience. Now, I don’t mind
giving a speech in front of an audience, and, though I am no stand-up comedian,
I could even tell a joke or two in front of an audience if I had to. But, among
things I would not like to do in front of an audience, anchoring is right up
there with singing and docking. The second problem is deciding where to drop the anchor; choosing your position in a crowded anchorage is much different than in an uninhabited one. You have to identify a position that is far enough from other boats, but still within the anchorage. You have to make sure you will have enough depth under your keel, even when you swing around as the wind and current change, and, of course, you have to mentally move upwind from that spot a hundred feet or so to physically drop your anchor. We did our calculations, looked around and chose our spot. We dropped our anchor in about ten feet of water and let out more chain than we needed – about 120 feet – and then we set the anchor. When we did, we noticed we were a little too close to a sailboat (that captain of which was watching us closely) so we pulled in about 30 foot of chain and set the snubbers so they brought us in another five feet or so. With that, I think we were about 50 yards away. He seemed to be satisfied with our distance and we were too, so there we stayed. When we “bucketed” our anchor it was buried so deeply that it was almost invisible.
Now the third difficulty one faces in a crowded anchorage – and by far the most important – is to ensure that you do not drag your anchor. Sometimes when the wind and/or current changes you anchor can become “unstuck” from the bottom. Without an anchor holding you in place, your boat can start moving backwards, dragging the anchor. Sometimes the anchor will catch on the bottom and reset itself, but sometimes your boat can move backwards at a high rate of speed – onto the shore or into another boat. Now I could probably handle running aground, but in a crowded anchorage, you are much more likely to hit another boat – which could be the worst of all worlds. Any, grounding or crashing are both very, very bad things.
One solution to the “dragging” problem is never to leave
your boat. While that would normally be my solution, in the past few years I
have gotten brave. Now, I will leave the boat after waiting several hours – and
making sure the anchor alarm is set, ensuring the keys are in the ignition (for
a rapid re-start if necessary) and carefully monitoring our position (with my
LASER rangefinder) to make sure it doesn’t change substantially. At night,
especially if the wind is blowing hard and/or promises to change
direction, I have no problem one of us
with staying up all night or, at a minimum, dozing near the helm so we could
respond if we started dragging. That’s enough about anchoring.
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| Ok, Ok, so you can't see that many boats around; I assure you there were more than this! |
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| The Main Street of New Plymoouth. |
The next day we headed off into the town, New Plymouth. Although not exactly a tourist destination,
Green Turtle Cay comes pretty close. There are probably 30-40 large vacation
home on the island (that we saw, there may be a lot more), one or two resorts,
maybe 50 rental cottages and a couple of dozen boats, of course. I don’t know
how many tourists that makes, but it is quite a few. Needless to say, unlike
Fox Town, fishing isn’t the town’s only industry. New Plymouth is kind of
difficult to describe in terms of layout. There seem to be vacation rentals right
next to the hardware store which is next to a restaurant. The streets are about
twice as wide as sidewalks and, although cars can make it down them, it seems
as if they were made more for golf carts—which can be rented several different
places. The town itself was formed by Loyalists who departed the US after the
American Revolution. In fact there is one plaque in the middle of town that
discusses how the Loyalists suffered from “human rights abuses” from the new US
citizens and how they were persecuted, etc. From the wording of the plaque
alone it is clear that there are still some descendants of those Tories around!
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| I am not sure you can read this, but it is only half of the plaque explaining how the dastardly Patriots tyranized the Loyalists so much that teh Loyalists had to leave America. |
Coming back from our excursion to New Plymouth, it started
raining. Since our dinghy was still a half mile away we ran back a couple hundred
yards to a restaurant we had passed and ordered our new favorite Bahamian dish
– cracked conch. It was almost as good as Judy’s. Ann is now convinced she has
to try making it. After lunch we took the dinghy back to the boat and all was
well in Green Turtle Cay. Although we had to pay $15 for the day, we had an
excellent internet connection. It was so good that our son set up a
video-teleconference between us and his family. So, here we are, on a boat in
the middle of the Bahamas watching and talking to some of our kids and
grandkids in Virginia. Ain’s life grand!
ANN’S NOTES: Lesson
learned: use a stern anchor with a dinghy and remember that tides go IN and
OUT. Later that day we had a video conference with our kids (and, more
importantly, with our grandkids.) Caylin, you keep belting out those guitar
tunes. The video conference was wonderful…seeing Caylin and Gavin ,as well as Tim
and Carrie helps me feel like I am still
part of their family. I keep track of Lisa and her crew when I get on facebook and
chat with her there. Life is Good!!!
Now that you know all the “do’s” and "don't's" about how to
anchor, it really can become a side show…Michael and I have walkie/talkie head
sets that we wear so there is no misunderstanding when we anchor and that keeps the panic down
for me. We are really coming together as a well organized team (most of the
time).The town of New Plymouth was quaint…the day was beautiful even if it did
rain off and on most of the day. Returning home we had a new experience… John,
our boat buddy, was with us when we went into town…we took our tender…the
Boston Whaler…a very steady, well built boat that is also very heavy. Anyway
when we returned to the tender…it was low tide…when we had arrived a couple of
hours earlier, we had plenty of water under us. When we got back … yup, you
guessed it — low tide=no water under our tender. We had to somehow undo our now
very tight lines…Move the boat with the engine and propellers in mud and get her back in the water only a
few feet away. We almost cut the lines but I kept wriggling the lines little by
little and eventually saved them.
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