“Apparently there is a hurricane brewing in the premises. Great. Category one, 75 mile per hour winds, predicted to be steering straight for the Bahamas by this weekend. Chantal is her name. Chantal sounds nice. Thats a lovely name, Isn’t it? How mean could a hurricane named Chantal be?
Guess it’s time to make moves. Hurricane, tropical storm, high winds… whatever it ends up being, to me is que to go home. A que to get the hell out of here. It’s Monday today, giving us a couple days, and little time to get somewhere storm safe. Tonight we will head for Cat Cay around 8pm. Exiting the anchorage before nightfall, heading 75 miles west through the night, arriving the following morning. We don’t like overnights, but every once and a while they must be done. Every weather report for this evening indicates near perfection. I am trying to nap before having to stay awake all night. Mosquitos are buzzing around my head so loud it feels like they are inside my brain. They won’t leave me alone. If they would only give me 30 minutes. Damnit.” Fire Eater. Cinnamon Whiskey. Fourth of July at Chub Cay. There were fireworks. Lot of them. Impressive actually.
“I don’t really know how to summarize our past 3 days. They have been beyond eventful. Thanks to Mary Jean Bentley, a woman I will further describe in my next entry. Our overnight crossing to Cat Cay, was actually the least eventful.
Hoping to make it to “the banks” before nightfall, we left slightly earlier than planned. By the time we reached the shallow stuff, it was calm, the sun was no longer, lightning surrounded us in every direction making life uneasy. Damn lightning. I was positive we were headed straight into what looked like a nasty storm. Tense. my mouth tasted like chalk again. Torn between wanting to chug water, and ignoring my thirst because of how obnoxious it is to pee in the dark. We continued on our heading. Nothing happened. Hours later, still nothing. Lightning lit up the sky, teasing us with hesitation. It stayed calm. Sections of the sky blanketed with stars, the moon just bright enough to function in the cockpit, shallow water with nothing to hit, completely alone. We took turns on watch. Successfully I got in some naps. One of the smoother overnighters we have ever had. By 8 am we were sailing through what looked like some kind of Disney movie, hollywood set, CareBear land. The waters consistent hue, nothing on the bottom to interrupt its’ color. The sky was a rich gray, with bright white cumulous clouds. Sheets of rain pouring in the distance, easily readable, giving us enough time to put everything away before we sailed into them. An enormous rainbow stretched across the sky. It lasted for ever. I have never been that close to the end of a rainbow, pretty sure we touched it.
I was really quiet, the whole night, into the next day. I think Katie was worried about me. I was half soaking up the beautiful sight before me, savoring the moment, and half stressing about this tropical storm that is barreling directly for us. We dropped the hook at Cat Cay around noon. Ate lunch. Looked up the weather report, and discussed our “hurricane plan”. Uncertain and uncomfortable with what was predicted, we relocated to Bimini Sands Marina. Twelve miles north, and our very first stop in the Bahamas 2 months ago. Here we are. Waiting. Waiting for Chantal. It is god awful hot. I am not moving, and soaking with sweat. Not a smidgin of wind. Stagnant. Noseums. America is so close. I can smell it. But it will be at least a week before this storm blows over. Oh Louise, I love you, but you drive me insane. ”
It’s my sisters birthday today. Happy Birthday Alex. I love you. By the way, she works for NASA and it a bad ass.