Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10

Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Dr.Ralph <rbundy@cfl.rr.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 1:39 p.m. EST

Tuesday, July 17
It's 8:17 and Barometer Bob is telling me that today will be even nicer than yesterday; he also reminds us to keep an eye to the weather for those pesky afternoon thunderstorms. My conscience is telling me that we'll have to spend at least part of the day in Marsh Harbour. A few years ago we contemplated buying a lot up in Cocoa Bay. We had opened a bank account at the Barclays' branch in Marsh, but our plans changed after the hurricane, and we want to close the account. Bunny wants to hit one of the grocery stores, and we have to get Junior a plant. Earlier we called Pinewood Nursery and they told us the ferry wouldn't deliver unboxed plants, so it looks like we'll have to go over and bring one back.

While Bunny's waking up, I walk up to look at the ocean. It's a little bumpier than yesterday, the wind is 10-15 out of the SE, and there's a nice chop. Over breakfast we make our day's plan. We'll go ahead and run to Marsh Harbour, take care of business, then run Loggerhead Channel and work our way SE along the reef off Guana and MOW. Lines are off at 10:30, and we are soon skimming across the Sea of Abaco under a clear blue sky.

Visiting places like Marsh Harbour, Guana Settlement, and Hopetown present us with a bit of a problem. Attitude is a little too small to carry a dinghy, and she's a little too large to tie up to one of the government docks for more than a few moments; she needs a real slip. Over the years we have come up with a few tricks that allow us to accomplish this. Attitude can always use 50 gallons of fuel. The only time I top her off is when we are making a long passage. 250 gallons of gas weighs over 1500 pounds, and it's foolish to carry that much weight unless it's absolutely necessary because it substantially compromises her fuel efficiency. So when we need a slip for a few hours, we cruise the prospective area until we find a marina that has a fuel dock as well as some empty slips. After taking on fuel we mention to the Dockmaster that we would like to spend a few hours "looking around;" I hand him ten bucks and ask him if there is any way he could keep an eye on the boat for us. Most of them are eager to help, and so it goes today.

Soon we are walking west along Bay Street. This route has more shoals and reefs then we have as yet encountered on this trip. There are Solomon's Mines and John Bull and Mangoe's gift shop; however, Bunny shows great restraint, and by the time we get to the traffic light we have accumulated only two T-shirts. It takes a half-hour to close the account at Barclays', then we see B&D Marine store across the street where we buy some sinkers and small hooks, as well as a few other things for the boat. At the Texaco up the street we find a cab, so it's off to Pinewood Nursery.

Here I must digress; Bunny is an avid gardener. Our back yard and pool deck are host to hundreds of odd plants: there are orchids and palms and roses and things I can't pronounce or even spell. At 29 degrees north latitiude Ormond Beach is planted firmly in the Temperate Zone. Last year we had five nights of temperatures below 30. While Bunny lusts for tropical plants, she must carefully consider each species' cold tolerance. Sadly, she can't have the island garden she would die for, we're just a little too far north.

Although Marsh Harbour is only two-and-a-half degrees farther south, its climate is far more benign in terms of cold weather. Bunny gasps at the site of every plant she has dreamed about, as well as exotics she has never seen. I gently remind her that we don't have the space, nor is it legal to bring any of these back into the US. That doesn't stop her from wandering through the aisles and marveling at everything. A young woman asks if we have a particular interest, and Bunny relates that we are looking for a flowering plant that would do well indoors. She directs us to a gorgeous bromeliad, three feet in height, topped by a characteristic pink bloom. It is just what we want. I bend over to take a closer look, and notice two pairs of glassy bright eyes staring back at me from within the crevices formed by the dense leaf structure. I relate this to the salesgirl, who then directs a very large man who seems to work on a delivery truck to perform the eviction. He winces, "I HATE tree frogs, STAND BACK!" Stand back?

As we stifle our amusement, we watch a man who must be six-foot-four, at least 300 pounds, flinch and yelp as he attempts to coax two little frogs out of our plant with a three-foot section of dowel rod. It takes him 15 minutes, and after the monsters have finally been dispatched he is drenched in sweat and emotionally drained. We gently thank him, knowing he is mortified. It is only then that a half dozen of his co-workers as well as two customers and our cab driver explode into laughter; two of them are actually rolling on the floor, one with stomach cramps. Now our guy has a sheepish grin, "I TOLD you I hate frogs!"

Our cabby loads the bromeliad, minus the frogs, into the back of the van, and we're off to Family Market. Bunny wants to take home some pigeon peas and conch chowder stock, and we need a few things for the boat. By now it's 1 PM, time to get back to Attitude and head for the reef. But a look over my shoulder to the south reveals a large black cloud, and by the time we reach the marina the thunder has started. As we are transferring our goods into Attitude it starts to rain, and our radar paints a line several miles in length. We sit for over an hour in driving rain and gusty winds, waiting for the squall to pass. It finally drifts north of Marsh Harbour, settling over Guana. A second line is forming just SW of us, but it looks clear to the SE, down toward Lynyard and Tilloo. We punch our way through a mile or so of wind and rain to get out of Marsh Harbour, then the weather clears as we are round Point Set Rock. I look back at Guana Cay, now shrouded in the storm, and my mind drifts back to another stormy night there, years ago...

* * * * * * *

In the early 90s we cruised Abaco with our friends Bill and Joan in our 29-footer. The boat wasn't really big enough to comfortably sleep four, so we were tying up at marinas that also had shoreside accommodations. Bunny and I were staying on the boat, Bill and Joan had a room at Guana Beach Resort. We had had a perfect day on the water, but as we were tying up late that afternoon, it started to blow out of the south. The docks at Guana Resort are exposed to this direction, and within two hours the 20-knots wind had really roiled up the marina. We ate a wonderful island dinner at their restaurant, then returned to the dock to check on the boat. She was rolling to the point that I had difficulty just getting onto her from the dock. Bunny and I decided there was no way we'd sleep on her that night, so we pulled off some overnight things and walked back to Bill and Joan's room.

After squaring away our gear, we strolled over to the bar and ordered a round of drinks. Through the years as we have cruised the Islands and visited the various watering holes I have made an effort to order the "house drink;" I like rum, and I've usually been delighted with the unusual concoctions I have encountered along the way. This evening's fare was the Guana Grabber. I have learned not to inquire as to recipes; most island bartenders keep them tightly under their hats. When one of the girls asked, the response was, "Oh, a little of this and a little of that." Well, the Grabber tasted pretty good, and its orange-pink color and the fact that it was served in a 20-onuce cup made it very appealing.

So halfway through the first round the power went out, and that's when the trouble started. Our pal Daniel, the bartender, assured us he had the situation under control. He closed the bar, brought out several tiki torches that somehow fired despite the wind, then placed a styrofoam cooler full of ice, a stack of plastic cups, and four gallon jugs of Grabbers on a table and announced, "The party's on me!"

If you've ever been to the pool area at Guana Resort you will have seen the rough sign that is nailed to a coconut tree outlining the Pool Rules. The only ones I remember are the last two: one says something about no children allowed in the pool after dark, and the other notes that bathing suits are optoinal after 10 PM. There are several white plastic chairs and tables on the pool deck, and as the wind rose and the rain spritzed, somehow all the furniture got moved into the pool, and somehow all the bathing suits got moved out of the pool. It was a remarkable event! Including Daniel there were maybe a dozen of us, and I think we wiped out the four gallons of Grabber mix. I don't remember going to bed.

It's the middle of the night, very dark, and I awake with a full bladder. I can't find my glasses, I am dizzy, very disoriented, I have no idea where I am. So I stumble about in the darkness, feeling for what I pray will be a bathroom door. And wouldn't you know it, here's a nice handle! I gently pull on it, a door opens, and a light automatically turns on. Cool! And I can see a large round object below, must be the toilet. Aaahhhh! Even better, here's something cold to drink, some nice iced tea. How convenient. I make my way back to bed, wondering how I'll feel in the morning.

Now there is light, I hear women talking, maybe they are the ones who have put the vice around my head. Why are they shouting, nothing could be wrong with that refrigerator....uh-oh. I put my pillow over my head, but they take it from me. Bright lights, it's an inquisition, I didn't do it, I swear. After a few blinks I bring myself to a 45 degree lean, and there is my wife, holding a large stainless steel mixing bowl that is filled with what appears to be lime Jell-O and, well, some kind of liquid. There are times when we can nobly and credibly defend our lesser actions; this was not one of those times. The only saving grace, if you can call it that, was that both Bill and I were so ill that the girls soon relented. I was not able to get out of bed save for quick trips to the bathroom (I finally found it) until dinner. They gave me sips of water and tea, Excedrin, and Xanax. At one point a young missionary from Eleuthera visited me, saying that he heard I was ill. He asked if I would like him to pray for me, which I indeed urged him to do.

By 6 or so Bill and I were up and around. I have never seen a sorrier collection of tourists in my life, we all looked so pathetic. I got down a burger and some water, apologized for the umpteenth time to the girls, and went back to bed. This hangover, which I refer to as the "Grabover," is now the standard against which I measure all other hangovers. So if I have a little too much rum and wake up a little foggy the next morning, Bunny will ask how I feel. "Oh, it's about a 2 on the Grabber Scale," 10 being what I have just related. I came away from the experience with two resolutions: I never want to lose another day of an island vacation from a hangover, and I never want to feel worse than about a 3 for any reason!

* * * * * * * *

Now we're heading south from Lubber's toward the Pelican Cays. We run North Bar out into the ocean and encounter a 20-knot wind and sloppy three-footers; it's roiled up from the squalls to the west. We fish for a half-hour, but the motion is pretty unpleasant, so we retreat to our cove at North Pelican. We noodle for an hour, gather up ten conchs, then head back to Seaspray. Junior is in the office when we tie up, and he loves his bromeliad! We get to spend a few minutes with him, then someone comes in with a problem and he is off to help. We score a couple of island drinks from the bar, cool off in the pool, then adjourn to clean the boat and our conch.

Seaspray is actually a marina as well as a shoreside resort. There are several cottages up on the hill to the south of the docks. Some of the quests who stay in them are boaters and Abaco veterans, but some are not. And somehow, Seaspray attracts people who are first-timers to the Islands, and it is upon these innocents that I prey as I do my foul task at the fish-cleaning table. I watch a group of ten or so leave the restaurant and walk out onto the dock. By their dress and demeanor I can tell that they are non-boaters from America's heartland, sightseeing after a hearty Island meal. Bunny is busily cleaning Attitude's cockpit, and she stops to take a tug at her water bottle and answer their questions. Oh, I hope they come visit me, come on, you can do it, come on over and talk to the man with the nasty slime caked in his chest hair. Uh-oh, here come two of them. It looks like a father and a teen-aged daughter. Hmm, he's listing to port, bet he's downed a few rum punches. Gotta stay quiet, let them mouth the bait.

"Daddy, what are those?" She points to several conch shells in my bucket.

"Well, honey, that's, uh, some kind of starfish, they eat them down here."

"We had a starfish in Biology, it didn't look like that."

"Well, there's lots of different kinds, maybe yours came from Hawaii or something." As he finishes speaking I crack the hammer into the shell, gook flies everywhere, and I pop the conch out of his house. The girl is standing next to my drink, I "excuse me" and bend over in front of her, take a long pull of rum, allowing a few drips to run down my beard onto my chest where it mixes with conch gook. I'm now peeling away the conch's skin.

She draws back a step, then exclaims, "What IS that?"

"It's a conch. Haven't you had conch fritters or cracked conch since you've been here?"

She shakes her head warily, "No way. We don't have conch in Nebraska. You can't really eat that thing, can you?"

Time to set the hook, "Sure, I love it!" I take a nice bite out of the fist-sized steak; her color drains.

"Uh, honey, let's go find your Mother."

They are walking away, "Did you see what that man did!"

"Yeah, well, the heat gets to some people..."

A few moments later my wife brings me a water bottle. "What did you say to that little girl?"

"Who me? I'm just cleaning conch, they came over to watch."

"You aren't grossing people out over here again, are you?" She has her arms crossed and is tapping a foot. I'm busted. "You be nice to these people, they don't understand, they're just here on vacation."

"Well, it's just hot and boring and I need a little entertainment. Hey, wanna go for big grouper tomorrow?"

"Don't change the subject, you're a bad boy. And yes, I want to troll up some grouper tomorrow. And you'll behave while you're cleaning them!"

"Yes, Dear." We'll see. ; )

pics:
upper: the wonderful view NE from Nipper's
middle: my perch in Attitude's tower
lower: noodling in North Pelican Cove

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
PattyB <iampattyb@aol.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 2:46 p.m. EST

Gee - I always pictured Bunny as a one hand planted firmly on hip while wagging a finger sort of person. She probably has perfected several stances, since you offer so many opportunities for her to use them!

If you only knew....
Dr.Ralph <rbundy@cfl.rr.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 2:52 p.m. EST

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Charlotte Couple <sailr@excite.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 2:47 p.m. EST

Great report, as usual! However, isn't the first photo a view Southeast, rather than NE from Nippers? Maybe a couple house drinks affected your sense of direction?

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Dr.Ralph <rbundy@cfl.rr.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 4:29 p.m. EST

Nope, you're looking NE. The axis of Guana Cay runs about 300/120 degrees, a perpendicular would be 30/210, and if you angle a little to the right you get 45 degrees, which is NE.

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Casey Jones <cjones@homeloancorp.com> -- on Tuesday 8/14/01 @ 2:18 p.m. EST

I'm not convinced. I think the rocks on the beach at the base of the stairs are N.E., but your pic is more "down beach". I suggest we all meet on the beach with compasses in one hand and Frozen Nippers in the other. Purely scientific, you know.

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Charlotte Couple <sailr@excite.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 2:47 p.m. EST

Great report, as usual! However, isn't the first photo a view Southeast, rather than NE from Nippers? Maybe a couple house drinks affected your sense of direction?

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Dr.Ralph <rbundy@cfl.rr.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 4:29 p.m. EST

Nope, you're looking NE. The axis of Guana Cay runs about 300/120 degrees, a perpendicular would be 30/210, and if you angle a little to the right you get 45 degrees, which is NE.

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Casey Jones <cjones@homeloancorp.com> -- on Tuesday 8/14/01 @ 2:18 p.m. EST

I'm not convinced. I think the rocks on the beach at the base of the stairs are N.E., but your pic is more "down beach". I suggest we all meet on the beach with compasses in one hand and Frozen Nippers in the other. Purely scientific, you know.

OH MY GAWD - I can't to meet y'all!
flying dogs <bitsidmc@aol.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 4:32 p.m. EST

I have just been HOWLING, alone in my office, reading your recollection of being Grabbed! I remember that sign and am bummed that it is no longer there, however, the new bar is a happening spot and I am sure the sign will resurrect itself. I have a somewhat similar story about Sid's Lofty Fig that will have to be told in a more private forum! Am loving your trip reports. Specially since we have been bitten by the "bigger boat" bug - that little devil is a bad one! We also have lots of tree frogs that live in our lights on the front porch. Since I have a frog tatoo, David says they have come to "worship the queen". However, they have turned our porch into their head - ugly mess to clean up. David has to relocate 10-12 every couple of weeks across the street to the mangroves, but they always return!

Re: Frogs
Noontide <itsnoontide@yahoo.com> -- on Monday 8/13/01 @ 7:13 p.m. EST

Try this... get yourself a duck decoy, the ones sold in hunting stores. put it on your porch it might jusr keep the frogs away. Works great in the swimming pool. No frog problems since the decoy has been around here. Someday I do expect a flock to land!!!!

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Abacoparrott <parrochie@webtv.net> -- on Tuesday 8/14/01 @ 12:44 p.m. EST

Geez Dok-tor.....ya did it agin......my mouth is a-hurtin' from laughin' so hard.......you GOTTA meet the Flying Dogs cuz they'll provide a few laughs too.....Ken

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Abacoparrott <parrochie@webtv.net> -- on Tuesday 8/14/01 @ 12:44 p.m. EST

Geez Dok-tor.....ya did it agin......my mouth is a-hurtin' from laughin' so hard.......you GOTTA meet the Flying Dogs cuz they'll provide a few laughs too.....Ken

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
John C <johncapp@mindspring.com> -- on Tuesday 8/14/01 @ 2:05 p.m. EST

Dr Ralph, I carry a 9' inflatable dingy on my 27' Grady white. Avon and Achilles have high pressure floors in the newer models that are very light weight considering the capacity. I use an 8hp yamaha for power. Enough to plane out with two people or one with scuba gear. My wife and I are able to pull it aboard from the side. (outboards prevent hauling it over the back) It also doubles for a life raft during the gulfstream crossings. We don't use marinas much and it allows us to visit the settlements without jeapordizing the big boat to theft or wave damage...I also use it when spearfishing to remove the fish from the water fast! I've rigged up a nice tow line for cruising when we don't want to fill the cockpit with the dink....

Thanks for your reports.

John Capp
M/V: Gabby too

Life raft??
Mr Grady & Mr White <GW@grady-white.com> -- on Tuesday 8/14/01 @ 5:17 p.m. EST

Capt. Capp,

Remember, your Grady-White offshore fishing boat is unsinkable due to it's foam filled hull. Your raft, should you decide to use it if you were ever to get swamped, would provide you a means to go ashore and arrange a tow vessel to come back out to your still floating boat!!

Stop by for a visit in Greenville, NC.

Mr G
Mr W

Re: Life raft??
John C <johncapp@mindspring.com> -- on Wednesday 8/15/01 @ 9:20 a.m. EST

Good point on the foam filled hull. If the boat was overturned, it might be more comfortable to hang out in the dink rather than clinging to the hull. I realize the chances of being spotted by air are much greater by staying with the overturned hull. I carry an EPIRB for just such an event.

Since your with GradyWhite, can you help me find replacement wiper blades for less than the $50 that my dealer wants to charge me?

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
Dr.Ralph <rbundy@cfl.rr.com> -- on Tuesday 8/14/01 @ 7:19 p.m. EST

Hi John, thanks for your comments. We have considered a dinghy after fielding similar suggestions. Part of our problem is that Attitude's cockpit is short, only a little over four feet. We don't really have a way to conveniently stow a small engine. Over the years we have come up with several ways of finding temporary dockage at places we want to visit, so it has worked out well. The "bigger boat" bug is battling the "retirement bug" right now, but if we do go for a larger boat I think we would work out a way to carry a RIB. Thanks again.

Re: Attitude Adjustment in Abaco Part 10
John C <johncapp@mindspring.com> -- on Wednesday 8/15/01 @ 9:24 a.m. EST

Dr R, I purchased my 8hp engine used and it came with those aftermarket "planing fins" attached to the cavitation plate. Not being a fan of aftermarket items, I was planning to remove them. That is until I realized how nicely they balance the engine in the cockpit. The engine can be placed at any angle or direction in the pit and it will not tip over. Nice feature. The engine is a "toe stubber" so I usually trap it around the cooler and throw cushion....

Common Problem
sfgator <sfgator@juno.com> -- on Monday 8/20/01 @ 10:57 p.m. EST

Don't worry Doc, that happens to the best of us (but not me, of course). I'm referring to your lime jello incident from years past, by the way. Happened to me twice back in college. Both times, I played the role of Bunny.

On one occasion, a visiting friend did exactly the same thing, except that the refrigerator was an entertainment center and the bowl of jello was my SEGA game system! Needless to say I gave up video games at that point. Probably helped me graduate.

The other time, another friend used both my couch and favorite Fightin' Gators trash can to make what we used to call in the Marines a "sitting head call." At reveille I was not a happy camper, to say the least.

Oddly enough, alcohol was somehow involved in both incidents.

Ladies, I apologize in advance for relating these two stories...

Dr. Ralph, keep up the great adventures!