Its a national holiday in the Bahamas, commemorating the day when Bahamians took control of their own government by an elected majority.

It was January 10, 1967. And though they didn’t get complete independence as a commonwealth until July 10, 1973 (Independence Day), many consider this day just as important. It ranks up there also with Emancipation Day, (August 3, 1833), when slaves of African descent were freed and slave trade abolished.

The people here are proud of their heritage, what one columnist terms their “sustained struggle” over centuries to reach a place of freedom and self-government.

They have their social and economic challenges to be sure, but to a person we have found them welcoming, gracious and friendly. You can hitch a ride here with no worries.

We and our cruiser friends are lucky to be able to share this wonderful island paradise with our Bahamian neighbors.

Enjoy your day off and thanks for your hospitality!

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Every morning at 8 am you tune in your VHF radio to channel 72 for the Stocking Island Cruisers Net.

The moderator is Sue, who is on one of the boats here. She opens with the weather and wind report from Chris Parker, the local authority on weather for boaters.

Then she asks for info from local businesses. Boaters as well as local businesses chime in with recommendations for everything from dentistry to sail repair.

Then she opens the conversation for others to join in with “questions, suggestions or help needed.” The only rule is you have to say your boat name first to identify yourself.

People ask about where to take the propane tanks for refill, if anyone wants to share a rental car, help on motor or refrigeration issues, you name it.

One poor guy has been on the radio two days in a row asking if anyone has seen his kiteboarding sail, which apparently blew off his boat and landed somewhere, he thinks, a mile away on the Georgetown banks.

OK, We’ll be on the lookout.

Last item they do on the radio hour is buy, sell and giveaways. Dinghy motors, life jackets, harnesses, motor parts, etc.

Dragonfly was selling a dinghy motor. I thought it must have been an extra one. But we met him at volleyball beach yesterday where he rowed in.

We talked for a bit. His name is James, in his early 30s, he and his wife built their catamaran from a kit and came down from Massachusetts. They want to go down to the Virgin Islands.

He said proudly “we’ve got a thousand bucks in the bank.” Whoa I thought, you might need more than that?

Maybe not when you’re young and open to all the possibilities.

But you might want to get another dinghy motor.

They’re very creative here with names for the cays and anchorages. We’ve seen Cistern Cay, Little Cistern Cay, Little Bitty Cistern Cay (I’m not making this up), Hog Cay, Farmers Cay, Little Farmers Cay, Poor Betty Cay, on and on. Johnny Depp owns Little Bell Island. Heard there were pirates there.

And our Stocking Island anchorages include Monument Beach (under the monument on the hill) Hamburger Beach (where an old hamburger stand used to be), Volleyball Beach (where the volleyball nets are), Sand Dollar Beach and our current anchorage Honeymoon Beach. I guess the latter is because it’s a quiet little cove, romantic spot. We’re not honeymooners of course but they haven’t kicked us out yet.

Highlight of the morning was a visit from Rodney who runs the trash pickup/pump out boat. You hail him on VHF 18, that’s the channel to call The Pump Out Boat.

We are a captive market for pump out so he comes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and will pump you out and take a trash bag for $15. A deal!

Then we walked the Monument Hill again today. Yesterday we did it with new friends nearby who are from Apex, who go by the names Joy to the world and Ivan the terrible. They are taking a year off to cruise.

Anyways they had a friend who led us to the top of the hill and then back down to the beach for what ended up being at least a three mile hike.

The osprey atop the monument in his nest was not too happy to see us. He swooped down low I guess to ward off that crazy blue-eyed dog of ours.

Ziggy was unfazed. She was off the leash and had a great time racing around the beach.

“I’m free, yippee,” she seemed to be saying. But only for awhile. Back to the boat for a nap.

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One of the big draws for cruisers here is Stocking Island. There are 200+ boats anchored here and several protected anchorages. And every afternoon many of them head over to the island by dinghy for fun and games.

There’s volleyball at 2 pm and checkers, dominos whenever you please. The volleyball players, like us, are not as young as they used to be, so the game is about drinking beer, trash talk and trying not to injure yourself making spike moves you can no longer make successfully.

Ed noticed that during the volleyball games, people not playing were sitting at the picnic tables chatting and watching. Making new friends, greeting old ones.

No one was on their phones!

I introduced myself to a woman with a masonboro.org shirt. She turned out to be a neighbor, lives 3 miles from me in Wilmington.

But the big draw is Chat ‘n Chill. Created and owned by KB (I don’t know his last name), they grill outside and make their own homemade hot sauce that he sells on the Internet. He also has a gift shop his wife runs, with your choice of t-shirts, caps, etc.

There are two resident cats, Lightning and Thunder, who didn’t give Ziggy the time of day. And Kendra and AJ run the bar.

We chatted with KB for awhile at the bar. He was college educated in the States and says the biggest need in the Bahamas is to improve their educational options. He preached education to his sons and that must have sunk in, one is a surgeon and the other a dentist in Nassau.

We talked about the history of the Bahamas, and KB shared his views on the islands. He told us the Bimini folks are mostly smugglers. I asked wasn’t that in the colonial days? He said no, they’re still into that.

He also said the biggest problem with some visitors here is their attitude and impatience. Why is my burger taking so long?

We agreed, what’s the hurry? They are grilling it outside so be patient! Get another beer from the cooler (it’s self-serve) and chill!

KB wants to open another place in Staniel Cay, whose restaurant has zero competition and terrible service.

We urged him to go for it! We can be chattin and chillin there too, my mon.

We made it! Our southernmost destination – Georgetown and Stocking Island – where at least 200 boaters are anchored out enjoying the warm sun and cool breeze.

Just another day in Paradise.

But it didn’t start out that way. Of course, if you’ve followed our travels you know that for us there might be the inevitable bump or two in the road.

We came down from Emerald Bay Marina on some fairly rough seas and entered the cut toward Stocking Island.

We pulled into an area near a beach that looked fairly protected with space for us. There were several other boats nearby and they were all watching us come in. Ed went up front to get the anchor ready while I slowly steered forward.

As he dropped the anchor the guy on the Scottish boat beside us starts yelling and waving his arms. We couldn’t hear what he was saying because of the wind.

“You’re too close, you got the whole Bahamas to anchor and you get beside me! I don’t want to look in your cockpit and I don’t want you looking in mine!” He yelled a few other unintelligible and probably unrepeatable Scottish words our way.

Ed and I looked at each other and around the neighborhood of boats. We weren’t any closer to this raving lunatic than anyone else was to other boats. So we stayed put.

Surly Scot pulled up his anchor and moved out. Good riddance we thought. He yelled at us again as he was leaving and Ed replied.

“We heard you, thank you sir, have a great day.” Nice touch.

And those are Ed’s people, those Scots, I reminded him.

As it turned out we moved our boat down closer to Chat ‘n Chill so our dinghy ride there is 3 minutes away. More on that to come.

Anyways we found a great little private beach and protected cove in 5 feet of water. But we sweated low tide yesterday when it got down to under 4 feet. Ed went down several times to check whether we were bumping. He even started pushing sand around with his feet to level it out. What a guy!

Probably thanks to Ed’s toe-dredging efforts, she stayed afloat! Within inches.

We made the trip to Georgetown, a 10 minute dinghy ride, to get groceries and get me to the clinic. I’ve been living with an ear infection for 2 weeks. I went to the clinic and $40 later got a prescription for drugs, one of which the pharmacy didn’t have.

They told me to go to Smittys up the road for the pills I needed. Ed found me a ride with a couple of local people at our lunch place. We had to wait for them to finish eating. I climbed into their truck which had a huge pile of assorted trash and junk in the front floorboard. The lady driver said we’re a waste truck.

Duh I thought, that’s quite obvious.

We had a nice chat and she let me off at Smitty’s. Unfortunately she was going on so I was left to find a ride for the 5 miles back.

As I shut the truck door I saw it was a waste management truck. Oh now I get it.

And Smitty’s was not just a pharmacy, they had hardware, groceries and nail polish I needed to hide my terrible toes (my kingdom for a pedicure at Groove Jet Salon).

As the American pharmacist filled my prescription, he let me know it would cost $60. I told him that was fine, I had just done a doctor visit and another drug for just $40, which back home would have been $150.

He agreed and said these $60 pills in the States might be $300.

Hmmm, their healthcare here must be considered a right for everyone, not just for those who can afford it?

What a concept!

I’m writing on this blog without my mom knowing, hoping someone will see this and help me.

She calls me her “little rescue dog ” when people ask what I am. Don’t they know I’m a dog? Then they ask what happened to my eye, am I blind. She just laughs and says no I can see, it’s just a blue eye. Not sure how she knows I can see out of it, I guess it’s cause I don’t bump into things.

Anyways if I’m a “rescue,” does that mean I can be rescued again? I didn’t sign up for this. Riding for hours on a boat, once all night long (boy was that creepy), waiting for hours to do my business on some god forsaken island with weird smells and people who talk funny at me.

It’s not all bad I guess. The dogs I’ve met look at me on a leash and express their sympathy. One gave me his number and asked me to give him a buzz if I ever get freed up.

I’ve learned to ride in that little dinghy boat though my feet slide a bit. I figure it’s my only chance to get to land so now I jump on it gladly when they put it in the water. Plus I like the way it makes my ears fly up when we’re going fast (Ed likes to do that).

And truth be told, we have hung out at some cool places where I got to nibble on my mom’s sneaking me some of that cracked conch I’ve taken a liking for. I saw what it looks like alive, yuk, no wonder it hides in that big shell. Ugly sucker, but tasty when they do whatever to make it cracked.

And because my mom likes to walk we’ve made a bunch of miles wandering around in places I sometimes like. If they have grass without sand spurs. There I can get my daily back rubs rolling in the grass and chewing on my leash for fun.

She and Ed don’t like that. I’ve chewed through a couple of leashes. Ed thought he had me tied at the dock here with a bow knot. I figured that out pretty quick, untied it and ran up to greet them before they could leave me. I was so happy to be with them! They just scowled at me for a minute and then my mom had to hug me anyway.

She’s like that, a real softie for me. She lets me collect my chew-nuts around here and keep them at the dock. She tries to take me everywhere she can.

So I end up waiting outside doors a lot. Doors to bathrooms, laundry rooms, bars, restaurants, straw markets, liquor stores, marina offices, you name it.

She quit tying me at each place because she knows I’ll wait for her there.

Unless a duck, chicken or something else interesting comes by.

Like those pigs on that island. Now that was weird. I saw pigs in Columbus County but they were penned in and dirty looking. These guys get to swim in water you can see through. They’re ugly too but they still get fed by people on boats. I don’t understand it, what do they see in them?

Thinking back to my life before, I was walking every day and spending hours in that store with my mom. Again, waiting for the next thing.

And there were weird smells there too and people who talked funny at me, always asking about my eye.

I guess this is not much different. At least it’s warm here. And new surprises every day. And Ed and my mom are my family.

So I guess I’ll hang in with them.

On the other hand, that mega yacht over there looks kinda comfy. Those girls have petted me so maybe they would like a boat dog? I bet their scraps might be worth considering … No more eggs on paper plates, but perhaps goose pate??

Ed has enjoyed the lounge here at the marina, big screen TV, a computer and wifi access.

Until yesterday. That’s when the TV went on the blink.

Oh no! How would we watch the Panthers game and the evening UNC basketball game?

After realizing we couldn’t buy a Sandals pass still due to “high occupancy” we asked about other places nearby with a TV.

It was Big D’s Conch Spot – our only option. So we got a cab ride over there, about 3-4 miles up Queens Highway. Ziggy and I had walked that way in the morning, got about 2 miles and found a little b&b owned by a young guy from Paris named Angelo. His resort was full of French tourists. He gave me free grapefruit juice and a roll.

So that afternoon we made it to Big D’s, which I had assumed was a big guy, but in reality it was a medium sized woman named Diane.

We ordered drinks, cracked conch and burger and grouper fingers. Conch was the best.

We were the only customers, as they are under construction but we managed to find the ball game and watch most of it.

We got back to the marina and paid the exorbitant $24 cab fare, hoping to find the TV fixed.

But alas, no TV for us! I couldn’t even stream ESPN on my computer, it’s not allowed outside the US.

Ed has adapted pretty well despite lack of sports the last couple of days. His tremors have slowed down and that tic is getting better.

He’s still betting some and doing well, he just doesn’t know how they actually won or lost since he can’t watch the game.

Hmmmm … I see a possible trip over to the pub at Sandals in our future today.

Most people say that when they just landed some cash. Or jumped in a tinted body of water on Saint Pattys Day.

Not us.

This is our cheery morning greeting when our batteries have held their charge all night and the dial on the panel points into the green zone.

Mind you, the lower green is not so good, that’s just 25-50% charged.

The upper green is another story — 75-100% charged.

And the next zone, the white area, is super-charged. Now that’s when we celebrate and do our happy dance!

Yesterday we installed the Breeze Bandit, a wind scoop that catches the wind from any direction and dumps it into the boat. It was awesome last night, constant breezy sleeping weather.

When you’re living off the grid, as we have for the last two weeks, you conserve your power and hope for sunny days and windy nights. So far so good. When the solar panels can’t help us, Wendy the wind generator kicks in.

She’s probably our teachers pet because she does her thing, stops herself if we don’t need her effort, and proudly reports the amps she’s producing continuously and every 24 hours.

Not that we keep up with Miss Efficiency’s data dump. The four solar panels report nothing except a blinking light, which we think is a good thing. Or is it supposed to be solid?

We don’t think their regulator is accurate because either way it looks, we are in the green.

Today it’s blowing 15-20 knots. Go Wendy go, go! We want the white zone!

Well we made it to the Marina at Emerald Bay here in Georgetown. It’s cheap! $1 per foot, 3 night minimum, 40 ft minimum, free showers, laundry. And access to the nearby Sandals and Grand Isles resorts.

For $40 per night. Are u kidding me?

But due to “high occupancy” at the local resorts we couldn’t go over there New Years Eve or the next day.

Bummer!! After a challenging 8 hour trip to get here we were disappointed.

Good news was they offered a free golf cart ride to the liquor store (which down here sells beer and wine too), which we took advantage of shortly after docking because we were slam out of everything and you can’t do New Years Eve dry can you?

There were 4 or 5 locals inside drinking at the store when we got there, greeting us with happy new year toasts and asking about Ziggy’s weird blue eye. I get that a lot, but Ed’s usual response – “she paid a lot for that” – I didn’t try. She was born with it, I said, they looked skeptical.

After a chicken barbecue on the boat we were tired and went to bed early. Ziggy joined us when the fireworks started.

Today we talked to Mario, the captan of a charter yacht we have run into a couple other times. Nice guy. We compared notes on how little fuel we use compared to him. We burn less than 1 gallon an hour, he burns 90. He says his yacht is nicer than his condo back home, I said our sailboat is nicer than camping with a tent.

Mario said we could just walk down the beach to Sandals, tip the bartender and enjoy. So we decided to give it a go.

We had tried to leave ziggy at the boat but she got out of Eds bow knot so we talked the marina staff into watching her for a little cash in return.

We made our way to Sandals past the golf course with conch shells for tee off spots via the beach. Ed played some pool and we got a couple of Bahama Mamas. When I heard it was free I felt guilty. Tipped the bartender.

But we came back, terrible cheap sailors that we are, and had another drink, the Goombay Smash. I tried to tip the bartender again and this girl refused.

Now Ed is Presbyterian and I was raised Baptist but our guilt factor was approaching Catholicism. We looked at each other and said this is wrong.

So we sang a duet with the entertainer Crash, I’m sure much to the chagrin of other vacationers.

And vowed to come back tomorrow as paying guests…maybe?