West End, Grand Bahama Island

I spent three weeks at the marina, wandering about the deserted Jack Tar Village, which was creepy.

It was a full resort completely deserted and I took to going out spearfishing in the mornings to catch my days food, which was abundant. The challenge was getting fresh water, milk and bread so I found a taxi service which would take me into a local village where people baked fresh bread daily, but milk was a problem.

These are things I had not fully considered upon leaving. Just how difficult getting daily sustenance would become and while romantically, it was ideal, practically, it was a daily challenge to get what I needed to simply eat.

And my personality of always considering where my money was coming from really bothered me to continually be using money that was in my savings account. I think, more than anything, that was the underlying issue for me and it made me realize how naive I had been to think I could simply sail off to the Caribbean to become a sailboat charter operator.

Crossing over to The Bahamas.

On Christmas Day, 1991, I decided to test my navigational skills and make the crossing to the Bahamas from West Palm Beach.

With a couple of freinds on board, I awoke at 2:45 am ready to go.

I checked and double checked my course and set off and by 4 am was out into the Gulf Stream.

It's odd sailing at night... you see nothing, except for one Cruise Ship, which looked like a lit-up city roaming the oceans at night. As the sun began to rise, I felt better.

During the last couple of hours, I doubted my navigation as I had expected to arrive at 1300 but was right on target.

At 1445, I sighted three towers on Grand Bahama Island and set course for the Xanadu Resort and Marina and checked into the Bahamas.

After a day or two of relaxing in the marina, I set off for the west end of the island and the Jack Tar Village Marina and arrived after an exhilarting sail along the coast of the island, with dolphins follwing us along the way. The photo above is Blue Grace docked at the marina and me beginning to do some varnishing on my deck boards.

St. Augustine to Stuart

Of note. If visiting St. Augustine, take the time to visit Marineland. Great dolphin shows.

After passing through St. Augustine, the trip south was uneventful as I was sailing through the Intracoastal Waterway, so basically, I was making miles towards Stuart, where I would dock for the winter and take my Navigation License before crossing to the Bahamas.

Lots of bridges to pass under and lots of boat traffic during the days and very few places protected enough to drop anchor for the night.

The second evening of passing down Florida, I anchored outsie New Smyrna Beach (which, oddly enough became my home for a year three years later). I dinghied ashore and went to the library and spent the next day just reading about the area. It was a very nice library.

The next two days were basically motoring down towards Stuart and I finally arrived at slip B-217 for my winter in Florida.

The next morning, I got to work checking the boat over and cleaning it up after a long voyage of some 10 weeks and sent off my bike, which had arrived by courier to the marina, to be assembled so I would be mobile.

Coming in to St. Augustine, Florida

Coming in to St. Augustine, Florida, a voice came over the radio asking me to change course as we were on a collision course.

I heard the call from below and picked up the handheld at the helm. I couldn't see anyone near me, let alone on a collision course when the water strated to burble and up came this nuclear submarine.

Very neat.

Towards Savannah

October 1991

While waiting for parts to arrive, I decided to go for a walk. Since I was kind of in the middle of nowhere, I really didn't quite know where to walk to and I was feeling a little low waiting for parts to arrive.

But the facilities had a pay per use bathtub and I figured I'd invest $2.00 and soak my worries away.

After a long, relaxing bath, I found out my parts arrived and I spent the rest of the afternoon replacing my water pump and turned in for an early start.

It was easy to tell I had changed environments. There were alligators or crocodiles resting along the shorebanks now, and turtles out sunning themselves on logs. This was the most realxing days I had had to date. There were eagles flying overhead and I was cruising down the intracoastal waterway, auto pilot set and wandering around the topsides, watching the goings on.

Around sunset, I dropped anchor for a nice relaxing evening tucked into the edge of the marshes just outside of Harbour River.

The next morning while lifting anchor, six or seven dolphins popped their heads up and seemed to follow me for hours in the morning.

Albemarle Sound to North Carolina

October 12, 1991

The next morning, I headed towards The Intracoastal Waterway and passed through the Great Bridge Lock at 11 am. The trip is extremely quiet and uneventful and I write in my log that I enjoyed having Blue Grace on Lake Champlain much more than this.

The automatic bilge pump has stopped working and I am trying to rrepair it. The floorboards begin to float and I am working faster trying to find a solution.

What seems like hours later, I round a corner into the vast expanse of Albemarle Sound, and anchor aways from another couple who have retired and spend time cruising. Everyone we have met to date is retired and taking their time going places. My mind begins to wonder whether I should have waited to retirement, but looking back now, these were all the training experiences needed to make a qualified decision about this lifestyle.

I dinghied over to this couples boat with a bottle of wine and had a pleasant dinner, finding out that the two on board are connected with the navy and that the owner had been a sea captain with the navy all his life. This is his retirement. It is obvious inside their boat that they have been planning this for several years. Their bookshelves are crammed with books, their bicycles are stored within the boat and they have central heating, hot and cold running water and a huge galley, with an island in the center for cooking. It's a well thought out home and has taken them years to build. It is their lifestyle.

The next morning, I left Albemarle Sound and headed to Grassy Point, then towards Belhaven, Adams Creek and onwards to Beaufort. Mile 200 on the Intracoastal.

Stuart is mile 1,000. It dawns on me that I am doing nothing more than getting someplace as fast as I can go.

No different than being in a car trying to get somewhere as fast as it will take you. This is certainly not what I had in mind when I left. Being in a hurry was what I was trying to get away from, not continue doing.

At Pelican Point Marina, I stopped because the water pump broke and I had to. Upon docking, I discovered that my particular pump is not in stock, naturally, and that I will have to wait a day for it to be sent in from out of state. The marina manager lends me his truck and I headed off into town to buy groceries.

I went for an early morning walk and returned to find my parts waiting. After installing the new pump, I left Pelican Point and headed towards Hague Point Marina, which was one of the prettier spots along the route. The facilities were quite rundown but the location was beautiful.

I am now in North Carolina.

Norfolk and heading off alone...

As we begin our descent towards the inner city, we are confronted with the Naval Station at Norfolk, the largest in the World.

Towers upon towers of grey war machines are almost an assault to the eyes. Everywhere, seemimgly for miles, are rows and rows of battleships. nuclear submarines, frigates and more.

My face became an open mask of disgust. I could not hide my feelings, and Louise looks at me and questions my looks. “What is wrong with you ?’’ and I almost yell at her, so appalled am I at the amount of money this country spends in military force.

The feelings begin to reside as we cruise on by, obviously interested now. You cannot help but be intrigued by such an awesome display.

Happily, we begin to slowly ease by this dramatic site and begin towards the town square, where we once again play show off and tie up right in the carnival grounds, where everyone can clearly see us and jump off, making our way with enthusiasm towards the Town Fair.

I stop at The Cousteau Society booth and chat with the volunteers, who tell us many people simply cannot take the intensity of working with the society, that it is grueling dedication. One could naturally assume no less from such an organization. Their work is staggering and necessary. Still, one cannot help but wonder why such an organization should have any difficulty with funding, especially in light of the military spending we has just encountered.

Later on in the afternoon, I cruised over to the town docks, which were still free to overnight on and tied up.

When I got off Blue Grace, I met the owners of several other boats travelling south who were to become our companions off and on for the next few weeks. "Lady Pearl" a homemade 28 foot wooden boat from St. Jean, Quebec, that was constantly under repair, or in the throws of another breakdown.The couple aboard had worked for eight years building this boat at a cost of over $45,000.

When I told them that I had only paid $53,000. for Blue Grace, they were not pleased.

The other boats were a 24 foot O'Day named "Wanderlust" from Toronto, Ontario, and a very nice homemade 36 foot aft-cabin ketch named "Horizon III", who were originally from Holland. All these people were interesting, but the couple on Wanderlust were hilarious. They lived in squlor, drunk every evening and telling filthy jokes about their sex lives constantly. The dutch folks on Horizon III were an odd, and I believe, unwilling member of this troupe.

My log book recalls that I began to find this life a bit of a cop-out, perhaps telling me that my dedication to cruising was too hurried and that cutting out of society at 34 was not exactly what I had expected.

Early the next morning, John, Louise and Patrick all headed to the bus station for Montreal and I headed on south.