March 21, 2004
Rudder Cut

On our way south to Georgetown, we stayed in Rudder Cut Cay for a few days which turned out to be our BEST anchorage yet. Gorgeous, pristine beach on one side, crashing surf on the other, tons of coconut trees, a bizarre little abandoned house to explore and the greatest little community yet. They keep telling us on the weather that it will be the last northern front to come through, that our 25-30 knot winds will die down soon, but for most of the month it's been duck and run. Not bad, just not the best for sailing, so you really have to move when the weather makes room. So we stayed at Rudder for about 4 days, just hanging out together like some strange family thrown together by chance. May I now introduce you to: The Family, the Patrons/Parents, The Single Guy and the Couple.

Ken and Linda and their 2 kids were the first members we met on our arrival and formed the bulk of the group. Ken is the weather man, he get 3 reports before 8:30am and lets us know the scoop that morning by 9 am. Linda the Valiant (she's been on that 30 foot teak finished boat for over 18 months, my admiration knows no bounds) loaned me a cook book and I was so excited to write down the recipes I stayed up with my eyes straining in the failing light to get the Sour Dough bread down on paper. (I am determined to make camp stove cooking so appealing that people will trade in their ranges for a Coleman.) Valt and Sandra introduced themselves to us the second day we were there when they came over to offer us water. Valt and Sandra were like the patron saints for cruisers with all the toys and technology for the kiddies to play with and they of course, have a WATERMAKER.

Now water is largely taken for granted in Canada and most of the free world, but on a boat you find yourself conserving every drop, drinking your toothpaste water, washing dishes and clothes in the ocean and horrified at the thought of misusing even a cup of it. So imagine my shock, now that I'm 3 weeks into this whole sailing it rough life, when I see this couple out in the morning SPRAYING down the hull of their beautiful powerboat with fresh water! Of course, they have a watermaker on board, and it's perfectly reasonable when you factor in that the boat is their permanent home. Still, when you compare our gallon per day consumption with their showers for their boat, it was a bit much to take in at first. We quickly found out that this couple were no powerboat snobs. They have proven to be one of the most generous, amazing people we have yet to meet, with a gift for making room for others. When we accepted their offer for water and they accepted our offer of fresh carrot cake (baked, hurrah! on the Coleman), we found ourselves a new pair of friends. They invited us over for coffee, which turned into an after sunset rum, then a tour of their beautiful boat, Amber Isle, then some snacks and more stories, before we could finally leave them late that night.

Chris, the Single Guy in our family, has become our greatest and closest friend. He's from New Hampshire and is single-handing it on his slick 27-ft sloop Tradition. Since Rudder Cut where we met him, we've trailed along each other and shared the same anchorage, meals and card games. He's the kind of guy who would hike for 6 months on the Appalachian Trail, which he did; would buy a boat in Florida and take off sailing alone to the Bahamas and Bermuda, which he's doing, and be known around the anchorage as the "guy who bakes bread", which he does better than me. He's just been the best addition since the Tobster came on board. He's the gentle one explaining things in the middle of a card game when Tobi is practically crying as she tries to figure out these strategies the 2 guys seem to so easily grasp, and Maciek does nothing but make fun of her.

Back to the story at Rudder Cut, we hiked one day up to this fantastic architectural monster of a house that looked like it had been just vacated a few years ago. There were medicines, lotions, cough drops and the like still sitting in the bathroom cupboards and some of the furniture hasn't been taken out. It overlooks the calm Banks side, where we are anchored, and the rougher Sound side, where there was violent surf on the day we hiked over, with spray 100 ft into the air and the foam reaching at least 50 ft up the rocks to our feet. It was spectacular, though not typical weather for the Bahamas.

One afternoon, we all got together and took V and S's SuperSnorkel out to a reef to experience underwater diving. It was the coolest thing, 4 hoses attached to a compressor in their dinghy, and you put them to your mouth like a snorkel and you breathed just like normal, sinking down with weights attached to your waist. Then we had some beer and pretzels out in the middle of the water, then motored back up so the boys could try spear fishing. Nothing caught though. Grabbed dinner and then to the beach for campfire, baked potatoes and rice from Chris, cracked open a few coconuts for dessert. We left early Monday morning, though not early enough to miss a few parting gifts from our new friends: Linda gave me some Maize cornmeal, and Ken the latest weather. We're going to miss our little community.

Good sailing all day today, close reach most of the way and winds not too strong, never more than 10 knots it seemed. I read all day, slept some while M sailed happily. We put out 2 fishing lines, which got tangled and I spent the better part of an hour trying to get loose. Not a success.

(T)