West End, Grand Bahama Island
Greetings. This will likely be my final posting. Civilization is close at hand. All the boats here look scrubbed & shined along with their occupants, none of whom are much into returning my salutations.
Since y’all didn’t seem to mind my previous synopsis, consider this Part Deux of Redeux.
…….The fuel issue continued to plague us on our voyage from Conception Island into Georgetown. The likely culprit, water that had settled in our tanks from the suspect diesel we purchased in the D.R. The lower the fuel level got, the worse the engine performed. We were only ½ mile from our destination when the motor conked out. Luckily the captain got it restarted and we were able to limp into port. We needed fuel and fast.
There were two options available to us:
1. Motor up to the posh resort north of town and have it pumped into our tanks. Or….
2. Buy it from the local Shell Station.
Option #2 would’ve involved us lugging four 5-gallon jerry cans into shore in our inflatable, carting them over to the Shell Station, hauling the heavy bastards back with a guaranteed wet return ride in an overloaded dinghy to the boat where we’d then have to hoist the cans up our ladder and empty them into a hole 3” in diameter, spilling about a quarter of it in the process. Fuel was also more expensive there than at the resort and we’d need to perform this feat four separate times.
There was no question in our heads which way to go, we chose option #2. We’d obviously been “out there” too long. While we were at it, we bought a product named "biocide" to eliminate the water in the tank bottoms. At $40 per 16oz. bottle, I assumed it turned it into wine.
We were also low on provisions, specifically beer & food. We bought two cases of beer and figured the food could wait until later. We hoped we’d find conch as we worked our way up the islands but had better luck finding UFO’s (June 4th posting). Bad weather then waylaid us for an entire week in Warderick Wells where we met up with the Krazy Kreeger Klan. (Super-friendly Larry & Lovely Linda had wisely jettisoned us back in Georgetown.) The KKK’s were sailing their catamaran with their two small children, “Excitable Kyle & Katey“, the latter who we renamed Penelope. (There wasn’t much she could do about that as we were all bigger than her.) Katey/Penelope did extract revenge of a sort when, after a particularly successful evening of drinking on their boat, I nodded off and woke up with ten cutting-edge painted toenails. Did you know it takes weeks for that stuff to wear off?
A break in the weather allowed us to slip further north into Normans Cay, the legendary drug-smuggling nuclei of the late Pablo Escobar. That night I found el Capitan sleepwalking on the deck sniffing the air, his arm pointing East. I chalk-marked the spot before pushing him back into his cabin. In the morning we headed in that direction and found 20-30 nice-sized conch. The man’s a natural. Now we had something to go with the beer!
The weather held and we made it into the Nassau fuel dock and topped off our tanks. We noticed the clouds were closing back in (plus my toenails were acquiring anomalous comments) so rather than provision and wait out the rain, we made a dash for Spanish Wells, which has the coolest name of any island I‘ve ever been on. Luckily, we encountered a fishing boat on the way there and bought some grouper to go with the conch. We still needed staples though, so once we anchored in Spanish Wells Harbor, we dinghied into town and located their food store. Despite having a freezer full of fresh grouper & conch, when we spied “Banquet Frozen Meatballs” we both went nuts. Looking back I can't say why since I don’t even eat meatballs. And Banquet? I hadn’t consumed that crap since high school.
Sadly, it was during our stay in Spanish Wells that I decided our beloved stuffed parrot, “Igor“, had died (June 9th posting). This pronouncement possibly had something to do with my diet. Nevertheless, I felt a proper funeral was in order. Please check the video link at the bottom and kindly wear black.*
Another week’s run put us through the Abaco chain where we stocked up on more conch ( a poor, abet delicious, substitute for meatballs) and I got to revisit Green Turtle Cay after a thirty-five year hiatus when they had a chef named Viola who made a fabulous conch spaghetti which I’ve scoured the internet for years for her recipe to no avail.
I discovered that Viola had passed many years ago but found her grandson & grand-nephew. While both agreed her cooking had been first rate, neither had ever heard of her signature dish. That secret appears to have followed her into the grave. I believe up in heaven right now they’re feasting on “Viola’s Famous Conch Spaghetti”, which is a helluva motivation to do good in this life. I don’t necessarily subscribe to the hereafter, but if there’s a chance she’s up there with her cooking pot, I’ll err on the side of caution.
Three solid days of continuous motoring has now placed us in West End, the staging area for crossing the Gulf Stream back to the U.S., three years and three months after we departed those shores. The weather looks good tomorrow for traversing the sixty miles of water so blue that it looks purple. I’ve got conch fritters, conch chowder, cracked conch & conch salad down, the latter being almost as good as el Capitan’s.
While I already miss the fragrance of a cooking fire & the early morning crowing of cocks, it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s more in store for us before we reach our final destination. But for now, color me gone.
*Igor’s Funeral Procession:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LClTjcyNJSI
Video Note: Igor’s favorite actor was Kirk Douglas. I had a local carpenter make a plaster-of-paris figurine of Kirk and entombed Igor inside. I felt it was the way he would’ve wanted it.
Man you are weird! But an enjoyable story.
ReplyDeleteAgreed. Good read. :)
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