We found the only bar open on Sunday and went to watch the ball games at 3.  Our friends Bill and Maureen from Vermont are big Patriots fans.  They didn’t have a good day.  Our friends John and Jennifer from Jacksonville didn’t really care.

Jen the bartender kept yelling at Tom Brady.  She said he comes down here to Bakers Bay, the fancy resort across from Marsh Harbor.  She said he and his “bony” supermodel wife were stuck up but their kids are nice.  They take sailing lessons here.

Our friends left after their loss and we were determined to stay til the bitter end of the Panthers game.  Small bar, we were the only ones there except for a couple of loud-talking Bahamians at the end of the bar, smoking and arguing about whose wife was whose.

?????

I didn’t realize how much I like our non-smoking bar policy back home until I don’t have it.

Anywho, we enjoyed the blowout like all our Panthers friends back home. I did the dab once with Cam but the Bahamians looked at me funny.

As they should.

The next morning we took a golf cart for me and Ziggy and Ed rented a bike so we could explore the swanky southern side of Elbow Cay.

Beautiful homes set back for views of the Sea of Abaco or the Atlantic Ocean.

But,man, were the potholes everywhere.  I’m zig-zagging every which way to avoid them and Ziggy is looking at me like I’m a crazy person manhandling this ride and torturing her.

Each time I slowed down she tried to jump out.

No, bad dog, you must endure more!

We got to the end, stopped at the Abaco Inn, where there’s a cool little bar, tiki bar and quaint little villas for rent.

The ocean side was raging with big surf against the coral reef.  Strange scene with the tranquil swimming pool in the foreground.

We rode on up to the Sea Spray Marina and resort. Our friends had teased us earlier that our boat would not be allowed in there, too small.

Mostly big fishing yachts, a few large sailboats.  Our server told us it was slower this year; we had heard that a lot of boats were stuck in Florida still, unable to cross due to the bad weather so far this month.

Fresh grouper tacos and pineapple cole slaw for lunch.  I am unable to turn down fresh fish.

Ed got to watch his fave Colin Cowherd (“The Herd”) on ESPN, who went on and on praising Denver’s defense, what he called the best in the league.

We ain’t chopped liver either, right?

But he did also tell everyone to stop the “hate” on Cam. He called him the NFL’s Elvis – someone who was also criticized for his shimmying.  He said celebrity quarterbacks are the future, so everyone better get used to it.

He said women and kids love Cam.  But many men can’t deal with someone who’s so big, strong, big smile, doing flips no one else can do.  Men are jealous, he said, that’s why they criticize him.

Whatever.  

Get over it boys, we are dabbing onto the big stage.

   
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
 

Hopetown is such a colorful cornucopia of picket fences, gingerbread houses and Caribbean hues; it puts a smile on your face just walking the one-lane streets here.

We’ve done a lot of walking in high winds yesterday and cool temps today.

We had the best fresh mahi sandwich I’ve ever had at Da Beach, about a mile or so walk up away from town on da beach (duh).  Brandon the cook/proprietor greets everyone with a friendly Bahamian hiya and big smile.

We also met Jack, the owner of Cap’n Jacks, yesterday.  He’s operated the bar and grill on the water for 24 years.  He told us he would be closed on Sunday.

What?  Our favorite bar to hang out and watch ball games?  No NFL playoffs there?

Yep he said they always close on Sunday.

As did everything else today – our coffee shop, the Lighthouse Marina, etc.  etc.

So we took a long walk around the island in the chilly morning breeze. Signs of life were few and far between.

But the one place open – Harbors Edge – welcomed us for coffee and hot tea.  And told us to come back for the games today, crowding around the one TV with our friends.

So be it.

   

  

    
    
    
    
    
    
    
 

Literally.  There was a tornado warning in the northern Abacos and they closed the schools.  We got a little wet on the dinghy coming back to the boat but we were able to visit the coffee shop, pick up our propane tank and drop off trash before returning.

The trash truck comes three times a week for only an hour. The propane guy comes by the grocery store dock and picks up the tanks whenever he gets the urge, so you have to check each day to see if the tanks are back yet.  The bank is only open on Tuesday for 3 hours, no ATM so if you need cash you show up then.

We took a little dinghy ride the other day outside the harbor, down Elbow Cay to see the other marina.  We were met going out of the harbor with a big cat coming in – “Salty Boys.”  I think they were more sweet than salty – Europeans for sure, one wearing nothing but a thong, standing on the bow of the boat surveying the harbor like a hood ornament.

Yikes.

We were out there on the Sea of Abacos for awhile before I realized we forgot the life jackets and handheld radio.  We made it as far as Fireflies and stopped for a snack before I made Ed go back.  I was a little nervous out there- thankfully the dinghy behaved.

Not so the next morning, when we set off for the Lighthouse Marina to do laundry. The little primer bulb on the dinghy engine had fallen apart and we couldn’t start the motor.

So we started paddling to the marina.  A kind man drove up in his dinghy and gave us a tow. Will -his name- showed Ed a few things to do as a temporary fix.  But I wanted a more permanent fix so we called the marine supply company on Marsh Harbor and they had the part we needed.

Miraculous!

So Ed took off on the ferry to Marsh Harbor to get the part.  Ziggy and I visited the Hopetown Historical Museum.

Interesting fact- the lighthouse was built in 1864 when the government was adding lighthouses throughout the islands to encourage more shipping trade.

But the local wreckers who made their money salvaging wrecks protested and tried to stop the lighthouse.  They would be out of business if the ships coming in didn’t wreck anymore.

Well the government won and the lighthouse runs today.

We joined a cruisers’ party at the Harbor Inn and Marina for BYOB drinks and snacks. Nice crowd!  Cruisers like to party.

   
    
    
    
    
    
   

The lead story in the Abaconian this week is about the printer for license plates being broken.  So if you get a car you can’t drive it because you can’t get a license plate.

The Minister of Transportation says they are working diligently to fix the printer but she wouldn’t say when that might be accomplished.

We went to the coffee shop in the morning and ran into friends from last year!  Bill and Maureen on Sweet Freedom.  Had fun catching up.

We had a relatively quiet day, climbing to the top of the Hopetown lighthouse.  It’s the only manned lighthouse in the islands.

Beautiful views!

We scoped out the Harbor Marina and found the showers.  Ed’s was open but mine was locked.  You have to pay $5.50 to use them but no one was around so Ed snuck in and got a shower.

I figured I was SOL but Ed came out and urged me to use the one in the men’s room.  I hesitated, then said oh well why not.

No one was around, so I snuck in and Ed stood guard.

Hot shower, worth the danger.

That evening we joined our friends Bill and Maureen and 3 other couples for Taco Tuesday and 2-for-1 margaritas at Captain Jacks. 

Fun company.

   
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
 

Well, after a dramatic day getting over here, we got on a mooring ball, which seemed like the last one available.  We later counted 55 boats in the harbor here.

We got the motor on the dinghy and watched to see if Ziggy remembered how to get on. She saw Ed preparing it and walked over to the stair, wagging her tail and ready to go. I had to hold her back til he was ready!

Off we went to the dinghy dock, about a 30 second ride.  Tied up and walked around for a bit.

Hopetown was one of the earliest settlements in the Abacos – loyalists left the U.S. after the Revolution and settled here in 1785. The streets are one-lane, very few cars here, everyone gets around by bike, golf cart or walking.

The cottages are painted in Caribbean colors with pristine gardens and white picket fences. Many of them are available for rent.

This is probably the prettiest town in the Abacos.  We may stay here awhile because the harbor is protected and the dinghy ride is a couple minutes to everything.

Last night we joined the bingo crowd at Captain Jacks – it was packed with cruisers and people who winter here.

The lady sold us a cup of beer bottle caps as our chips for the bingo card for $2 per game.  The winner for each of 4 games would get $278!!!

Ed goes, “Are you kidding me???”  I could tell he was comparing the potential winnings for this $2 bet to what he wins with online sports betting.  

Hmmmmm, 60 people at most, pretty good odds…

But it wasn’t your typical bingo.  For a couple of games you had to get both diagonals (the “x”) or a “picture frame” (all four sides) and you had to yell out “Jacks” instead of bingo.

One woman who had drunk too much yelled “jacks,” and when her card was checked she was wrong.

The second game she did it again, far too early we thought and the crowd started jeering at her, “No way! You can’t have Jacks yet!!”

They checked her card and she was wrong again.

The announcer said “You, my lady, are disqualified! You are hereby banished to Marsh Harbor!!”

The crowd cheered and laughed.  The banished lady stood and took a bow.

Ed got within two caps on the picture frame game but lost. I didn’t  even get close.

Ziggy didn’t get to play but she liked the burger I shared.

   
    
    
   

  

  

  

  

   
    
 

We left the Marsh Harbor marina around 10 am to head over to Hopetown, on Elbow Cay, just an hour or so away.

Nice skies, cool breeze, the perfect day for a short sail.

But nooooooo.

Just after leaving our slip, the boat is headed toward shore and Ed starts yelling about the steering.

What? I’m yelling back.

The boat is headed for a pier on shore with multiple old pilings in the way and a scary looking pile of craggy rocks.

I’m yelling “reverse, reverse,” as though he doesn’t know we’re headed right for the rocks.

“I can’t, I got no control,” he’s yelling back at me.

Oh shit. We are headed for those rocks.  

Meanwhile a young couple in a dinghy saw our pending crisis and tied up at the pier we were getting ready to crash into.  They were up on the pier ready for whatever they could do to help.

I sat down on the bow to brace myself for whatever was to come. Suddenly Ed was able to turn enough to avoid the rocks and, in neutral, the boat headed toward the pier. 

The next thing I knew we gently bumped the pier and the couple on the pier (Dutch, I found out later) were asking me to throw them a line.

I did, and looked astern to see Ed back there fending the boat away from the rocks.  He had jumped off the boat and another passerby was helping him keep it off.

The couple on the pier were yelling for another line and we eventually got both tied up so the boat was astride the pier and away from the rocks.

During all this our friend Chuck from the marina who had helped us get off the dock – saw our problems, heard the yelling and came running from the marina to help us.  

So we had 4 new friends giving us a hand.  The Dutch lady was more shook up than me.

Boaters do everything they can to help each other.  We’ve seen that before and we’ve done our share too.

It’s a bond when you keep a boat from crashing into rocks or piers.

I told Ed I didn’t care if the boat was damaged, I just didn’t want to hit another boat or people.

Toucan had no scars.

We were able to reach our mechanic from the boatyard and he came right away.  The problem was we had no reverse control on the starboard engine due to a broken cable line.  The wind and current had contributed to the loss of control.

John our trusty mechanic fixed it all and replaced the cable.

We were still a little freaked out when we left for Hopetown a couple hours later.

We got the last mooring ball at Hopetown after only a couple of tries.

Time to chill…..whew.

   
    
    
 

The office staff here at the marina are Gigi and Phyllis.  Gig is in her 40s and is mama to Jack, a feisty little Yorkie.

Phyllis is in her 70s and is usually on the phone when you come in.

Yesterday I came in and needed a phone number to call the motor mechanic at the Boatyard who said he would clean the dinghy carburetor.

“No mama I’m listening to you!” Phyllis spoke into the phone before putting it down to look up my number. I could hear someone yelling on the phone.

Phyllis looked up at me.  “She don’t hear good and she gets mad when she can’t hear me.  She’s 104 and she gets mad that nobody calls her. But then you call her and she gets mad cause she can’t hear you.”

I smile as Phyllis shakes her head.  She picks up the phone again.  “No mama no!  I am busy but I can hear you!  You’re too demanding mama!

She laid the phone down again, where I can hear loud yelling again.

As I leave the marina office I hear Phyllis exclaiming to her mother, “You’re just too choosy mama.  You want everything your way, you need to listen to other people sometimes.”

Jack the Yorkie barks in agreement.

I don’t know.  If you’re 104 you’re entitled to a little selfishness, no?

Today I asked Phyllis how her mother was doing.  She almost cried as she told me her mother fell and broke her hip yesterday.”First time she’s been in the hospital.  She said she can’t believe she has to go to hospital now, after 104 years.”

Wow, bless her heart.  I’m sure she will give those nurses an earful. But the good news is that the Bahamian lifestyle must lead to a long life. 

    
    
 

We joined the Jib Room crowd on Wednesday night for their famous ribs and saw band entertainment.

Ed and I split the ribs and got separate sides of baked beans and slaw.  Yummy.

Ziggy got some bones and that put a smile on her face.

I’ve seen how Ed knows everybody in Southport, usually when we go anywhere he sees a former student.

Well who would expect he would meet another teacher from Southport at the Jib Room?  She was here celebrating her birthday.  She had the “flu” (wink,wink).

Earlier in the day Ed saw a former student on our pier. He was on a yacht at Bakers Bay, the exclusive resort near here.  The visitors there board boats here in Marsh Harbor to head over there.

That’s two people he knows from home, in one day.  Small world for Ed!

As for the ribbitters, we have found four little frog stowaways on our boat.  Also two lizards. They all must have made Toucan their home while it was in the boatyard.  

We have been doing the catch and release procedure (isn’t that a fish thing?) and the little froggie guys swim to their next habitat. They have little suckers on their webbed feet so they can climb anywhere.

One tried to climb back up on the boat but I shooed him off.  He went off in search of the next boat.

They might kick us out of the marina for bringing the frog immigrants.  

We will have to build a wall.

   
    
  

  
   

Not until you travel do you deal with Customs officials in other countries.  Sometimes they are friendly and accommodating, sometimes they give you an icy stare, stamp your passport and send you on your way.  

And don’t step beyond the yellow line until it’s your turn, otherwise you might end up in custody God knows where.

Our Bahamas experience, coming in on a private plane, was interesting to say the least.  We checked in at the airport and got Ziggy’s permit approved (plant and animal imports are through the Department of Agriculture:).  No one asked to look on the plane.

We were treated formally but in a nice way, and we were told we had to go to the other Customs office at the government dock to get our cruising permit.

So next day we got a rental car and rode over there.  

Oh, one other issue.  The Customs people had confiscated our shotgun and shells last November at the boatyard – apparently we didn’t know we couldn’t leave it on the boat.  So we planned to ask for the gun back too.

After a short wait we were told we need to talk to the Customs Superintendant. Walking into his office we greeted him and sat down.

No response.  The big Bajamian was studying our papers and not looking up.

“Morning” we said again.  

Finally he looked up. “Where’s the gun?”  He eyed me then Ed with a suspicious slant to his head.

We both answered “We thought you took it?  We were told that Customs or the police have it.”  

“Oh?  Let me call the boatyard.”  He picked up the phone and asked for Loretta, who works at the boatyard and, we found out later they had known each other since she was a little girl.

“These people on Toucan say we took their gun.  Is that right?  He also said you took money off the boat.”

We heard some loud response on the phone and Mr Dawkins started chuckling.

“I like to tease her,” he said.  “Could you identify it if we have it?”

Ed said yes and Mr. Dawkins led him to a side storage closet.

Not only was Ed’s gun there, an arsenal of weapons filled the small space.

If the Customs office was ever attacked by terrorists, my money would be on them to shoot their way out of it.

Ed started to take his gun and ammo but big Mr. Dawkins stopped him.

“No no, you can’t carry that out of here.  I will have to send someone with it to your boat.”

So we left with no gun but the hope that we might eventually get it.

I called for Mr. Dawkins the next day, after three attempts I reached him and told him who I was. 

“Oh yes we can bring it to you, ” he said.  “It works good, I shot someone with it yesterday.”

Thick Bahamian accent but I got the joke.” Oh no I hope he survived,” I said.  

“Yes, just flesh wound,” he added.

I like Mr. Dawkins.  We got the gun that afternoon.

Contrast this experience with the one Matt got when he flew the plane back to the States yesterday.

He arrived at Fort Pierce, which is a good place for private planes since there is no commercial traffic there.

He arrived at 9:55.  They open at 10 am and made him go back and wait on the plane for 5 minutes.  He also had to park in the red box directly in front of Customs or he would be fined.

He found out by arriving before they opened he could have been fined $5,000. 

Now that’s a wonderful welcome home after flying solo over the ocean.

Ed and I had warned him about their attitude – we encountered that when we flew back from the islands a few years ago. They gave us some lip about where to park the plane.

And they took my orange.  Jerks.

The Americans could learn some manners, not to mention a sense of humor, from the Bahamians.

Yo mon.