Captain Overboard!

Captain Don loves to fish on our bareboat cruises. His favorite is towing a line behind the boat when we are on our long sails. He has been known to take crew members to South Beach while on layover at Miami Airport just so he can pick up fishing gear from his favorite tackle shop. He has done this more than once! He even rented a car once because it was cheaper than taking a taxi.

We were on a trip from St. Lucia to the Tobago Cays. The second day in to the cruise we were headed South from St. Lucia toward Bequia. Lisa wanted Lobster Pizza from Mac's so our goal was Admiralty Bay by sunset. My guess is that we were roughly 5 hours into the sail when we hooked a nice sized King Fish. Everyone jumped up and we dragged the fish on board. It was kicking and flopping around at first, and as usual we were a little taken off guard. Captain Don knocked the fish out, and asked me to go down below into the galley to get a pail to rinse to cockpit out. The fish was somewhat messy, as Captain Don was beginning to filet the fish.

I was not even to the galley when I heard a shriek up above. Sister Lisa was screaming. When I got back up top, I found out why. Captain Don was about 100 feet behind the boat. Lucky for him he was wearing a red Tee shirt. Lots of things were running through my mind. First - we were under full sail and the boat was on autopilot. I grabbed the wheel and pulled the autopilot release arm. As I spun back around I noticed that Dad was disappearing with each wave. He would only be visible on the crests. He was already about 100 yards back. I asked Troy and Sara to point their finger at him so that I would know where to go. Always point your finger and don't drop your arm (provides a reference when he disappears).

It was about this time that Captain Don realized that he was in the open ocean with a knife in one hand, and a bleeding King fish in the other. He let go of both and watched the mast as it moved away.

Back on the boat Lisa is screaming to drop the sails. I consider this for a fraction of a second and decide that would take WAY to long, we would lose him. Option 2 - come about and head down wind of him. We were on a Southern tack with the wind off the port bow. I came about and headed back North, but ran down wind to the North West (Wind was out of the ESE that day). I kept watching Sara and Troy's arms to know if I was making headway toward the target. My plan was to get directly down wind of him and run straight up wind toward him with the aux engine on. This took about 4 -5 minutes. It seemed like an eternity... Once directly down wind I fired up the diesel and headed up toward him. It was about this time that I realized that this was going to be a little harder than I anticipated.

We were in 6 -8 foot waves and Dad was still disappearing in the troughs of the waves. The wind was moderate, and was creating a lot of luffing of the sails (noise and potential to catch the wind and draw the boat in one direction or another with a wind change). The motor was running, and the bow was diving into the waves. I realized that if I headed directly to him I could either drop on top of him or catch him with the prop. I decided the safest thing was to head slightly downwind in case the wind caught the sails and took me North. As we got closer, Dad was passing to our South, along the Starboard side of the boat.

It was about the time he was perpendicular to us that I realized that I was too far away. He was swimming toward us, but the wind was taking the boat away too quickly, and the waves were pushing him toward the stern. I was thinking I would have to take another pass, or maybe take the sails down so that they could not interfere with the rescue, when Steve grabbed the genoa line and threw it to Dad. It was the perfect throw, and the right length. He grabbed the line and was dragged behind the boat. Sara and Troy were on the step transom. The pulled Captain Don in and little Sara (130 lbs) pulled Dad straight up out of the sea - one arm and single handed.

Now you would think that the story was over.... Wrong! MaryAnn had thrown a seat cushion toward Don when we were floating by him. This was about 20 seconds before Steve brilliantly threw the line. The cushion was blown away faster than Don could swim for it. Now, it was down wind and moving fast. Don decides that the $100 dollar cushion is not worth losing, so he drops the dinghy in and chases it down in the open ocean.... Getting the dinghy back on board proved to be more of a challenge in 6-8 foot seas than we bargained for. Hind sight 20/20 we should have left the cushion go. Oh well, life is an adventure!

The perfect afternoon

The morning had been spent snorkeling out at sand island, and we decided that we were going to go to the BBQ and jump up at Foxy's on Jost Van Dyke. We were close so we thought that we would head in early. As we were sailing up, we noticed a small beach bar in a remote beach West of Foxy's. Everyone voted to stop in and have "one". The boat was anchored, and we all dove in and swam to shore.

As we waded in from the sea, we noticed that the bar was named the "Soggy Dollar". How appropriate. The bar was know for their "Painkillers" so the group ordered a round. The first one tasted so good, we sent several back to the boat to get more Soggy dollars. Another painkiller turned into a few more. As the afternoon wore on, more and more crews began to arrive. A group of six college students arrived in a sport fisherman boat. They found a game in the bar, called the ring game. We ended up playing that game for hours. Check it out! http://www.soggydollar.com/ringgame/

The bar was built on the beach, and the view was fantastic. We continually waded into and out of the water. Sat on loungers. And enjoyed almost 5 hours at the bar killing pain...

Finally, we had to go. Foxy's jump up was calling, and we needed to have a painkiller there to check out which bar served the best one on Jost Van Dyke. Man that was rough duty.... Sign me up to live that day over and over again!

Dinner and a Donkey...

Captain Don decided that this trip to the British Virgin Islands should be different from the last. He wanted to go to Anegada. As we had not gone to Anegada before, the charter company required that we take a captain along for the ride. We picked him up at the North end of Virgin Gorda and headed toward Anegada. The day was very calm, so the sailing was slow. The mood on the boat was strange, because captain Don did not want another captain on the boat and we had done enough bare boat charters that we really didn't need a captain along. This was our seventh bareboat trip as a group. Oh well, more beer!

The hired Captain directed us to the very West end of the Island, then we proceeded East inside the reefs to a secluded beach. We were the only boat anchored in the bay. Lisa - true to form - was reading in the travel guide. She found a restaurant in the bay and discovered that you needed to radio in before 4 PM to let them know if you were going to have dinner. Seemed odd, but we followed directions. Later that night we figured out why. We were the only patrons at the restaurant that night....

About 6 pm we rolled off the boat into the dinghy and headed in to the restaurant. It was a very cool little building. It was open through the middle (basically just a roof over the top, and the kitchen was on the West end of the building. A small bar was built into the East side of the building wall. We ordered dinner, and then settled into cocktails. Our crew drifted in and out of the bar as the sun set. It was a hot evening, with a very warm breeze. Some sat inside with easy access to the bar, others in beach chairs out by the beach. This restaurant was literally ON the beach, which was very cool. It was also about the only building in the bay at all. We are talking about hundreds of yards of pristine beach with maybe one other building along it. A very....very....very relaxed and remote setting.

Dinner arrived and we had all sat down to eat. everyone was having a great time. The sun had set, and it was early dusk. The only light in the area was coming from inside the restaurant where we were eating. Remember - open in the middle on both sides (North - South). This was providing a great breeze. It must have smelled great outside the restaurant as we were eating. Everyone was laughing and carrying on. All of a sudden we realized that there were 9 of us (instead of the eight that came to shore). It wasn't staff at the restaurant either... A Donkey had walked in to the restaurant from the North (inland side) and was slowly meandering through the building. Absolute silence. I swear everyone was thinking at the same time "am I halucinating?" Out the Donkey walked on to the beach... Everyone breaks into laughter. First time I ever ate dinner with a Donkey.

We finished up dinner and headed in to "The Settlement" looking for night life. Not a lot was found, but we already had our story for the evening!

Calling you guys out!

Ok,

I need some help here.

I need someone (Dave, Craigr, Troy, or Vinkman) to tell the "O'Malley" the Irish Taxi driver story

I need someone (Candy, Craigr, Troy) to tell the "Rawhide" - Sea Camp Story, or the 6 intelligent men story

Any other stories would be appreciated Greatly!

Vinnie

Vinkman Down

We had just finished snorkeling and the sun was setting off of Salt Island. Captain Don decided that he wanted more night life. He thought that Salt Island would be boring for the group so with almost no sun left in the day we decided to head to Norman Island. The "Caves" were there for adventure tomorrow, and maybe there would be some night life

As we got closer, night was falling. We pulled in just in time to find a mooring and discover the "Willie T". After grilling out and enjoying dinner, the group decided to clean up and head over to the Willie T for entertainment. The "Willie T" is a boat anchored in the harbor that operates as a pub and grub. When we first got there the night life was a little slow. We thought that we were in for a sleeper. However as the night wore on, more of the crew members from the fleet in the bay began to arrive. Next thing we know, the music is cranking and the back deck becomes a dance floor.

Now imagine this. The deck is not flat, as it is toward the back of the ship and angles up at about 15 degrees. It is the ship's "Poop" deck - for lack of a better description. By this time, the group has been steadily drinking for hours. Vinkman is "rockin'" he is jumping up and down in our little "mosh" pit. Next think we know, DOWN goes Vink. He slipped on the angled deck, probably due to all the spilled drinks that were running toward the bar. No worse for wear.

Next morning we all admired his "deck rash".

If you ever get to Norman Island, don't skip a trip to the "Willie T" Lots of good memories!

CAN DO attitude taken to the EXTREME!

It was to be our first trip to the Bahama's. We had chartered a Hunter passage from Florida Yacht Charters. The charter company told us the night before (when we arrived) that the weather was looking rough for our first day, and they would not allow us to cross if the winds were over 20 knots. We got up in the morning, went through the dreaded "Check out" on the boat, and checked the weather. The wind was 19 knots. Captain Don was very specific when he talked to the charter company "it is 19 knot winds, that is less than 20." They relented, but not until after they informed us about a German gentleman that was driven by his schedule. He sailed regardless of the weather, anchored out one night in the Bahama's and was washed up onto the reef. Lost the whole boat. Specifically because he HAD to make his destinations according to schedule. (there was a moral in this story, but it was conveniently ignored by Captain Don - another man of German decent ;)

We headed out of Miami East toward Bimini. As we started, the sun was out, and the entire crew was basking in the sun. The waves were about 10 -12 footers. The boat was riding rather nicely in the seas. As the day wore on, the weather blew in. As the front rolled past, the clouds came in. It grew very dark grey. The wind picked up - averaging about 25 knots actual (a little over 30 kts apparent). We reefed the main sail, and rolled in the Genoa to roughly a king size blanket. Slowly but surly the crew disappeared below to hide. The seas grew to about 20 - 25 footers. You would lose sight of the horizon as you dropped into the troughs. Just walls of waves on either quarter. To add to the fun, the seas were confused due to the change in wind direction from the front that rolled in. This would provide rogue waves every so often as the two waves combined and multiplied their height.

I was in full weather gear. Actually having a really good time. I felt like Luitentant Dan in "Forest Gump". I was hootin' and hollerin'. I felt very secure as the boat was handling the seas fantastically. Just enough sail to have strong control of the helm, but not too much so as to create weather helm. It was a solid boat, and felt very secure. Winged keels really help stabilize a boat in serious weather.

My sister and her friend Laurie came out to join me in full weather gear. They were getting sick below and wanted to see the horizon. When the made it out into the cockpit, they both stood in front of me facing back toward the stern. They held tight to the helm. Me spinning the wheel, and they watched and looked shocked. About 15 minutes after they came up, we hit a rogue wave. They were watching me, I was looking forward. It appeared on the port quarter, and they saw my eyes go WIDE. They braced for the impact. It slapped hard against the hull and sent a sheet of water half way between the first and second spreaders on the mast. (About 25 feet above the cockpit) the wall of water collapsed into the cockpit. Filled it with about 2 feet of water, pushing the girls against the helm. That was enough for them, back into the cabin. I had a good chuckle. After about 3 hours of this rough passage, we entered into the shelter of Bimini Islands. The seas calmed down dramatically as the wind was out of the NE and you enter the harbor through the reef to the West of the Islands. This entrance is interesting. You pass through a reef, and then run between the reef and the beach (100 yards only between the two) until you pass between the islands and into the harbor. I was glad the wind and waves were from the right direction for that entrance. If the weather was from another direction we would have never been able to make it into that harbor. Especially the first time into the harbor.

Beer tasted really good that night at "The End of the World Bar". I will never forget that sail. Never.

Another top 5 sail.

Want Adventure? Sail with Captain Don...

The day started out cloudy and cold. Don was on the radio listening to the weather forecast. The weather was ok today, but was supposed to get worse tomorrow. We had spend the night in Bullock's Harbor in The Berry Islands (Bahamas). The sail in the night before had been strange. It was very shallow, and we were watching our speed by shining a flashlight at the sea bottom and watching our movement over past the rocks, grass, and fish... When we finally got into the Harbor we could hear all the local residents whooping it up at the bars watching the Superbowl. This island was rather remote, and the Don did not want to get stuck here for several nights if the weather turned bad. As such he made the executive decision to head out toward the Abacos.

The sail was a little cool, but the weather held. The problem was our arrival time. We ended up off the south end of the Abacos at about 10 PM in the dark. We had never been here before, and as such were not familiar with the island and all it's harbor's or entrances. By the time we made it up the east side of the island it was about midnight. That was when we discovered that the entrance to Little Harbor was not lit with markers. This is probably because NO ONE in their right mind decides to enter through a reef at night. My last visual sighting was several hours ago off the south end of the island. I had to trust the GPS and my map cross references. To add to the fun was the fact that we were in 6 foot seas in the open Atlantic. The entrance was between exposed reef and rock, less than 100 yards wide. Did I mention that it was dark?

I have not told many people, but serious fear tastes like copper in your mouth. We creep closer. You can hear the waves breaking on the beach. I can taste stomach acid... We work close in, all the music is off, everyone is silent. Most of the crew is forward looking for markers.

Finally Steve finds a marker. It matches the chart. We get a little closer. We see the other side. Now I breather a little easier. We work our way through the entrance. Once inside the barrier reef, we head South toward Little Harbor. I have never been happier to drop anchor and lay down to bed. When we wake up, we discover a tiki bar just South of us in Little Harbor. After breakfast we all head in for an attitude adjustment. The view from over the rise looking out at the Atlantic makes Captain Don's decision appear very wise. The seas are building and there are white caps everywhere. We definitely would have been stuck in the Berry Islands. Looks like a good day to spend some time at Pete's! The trip to the North toward Hope Town is mostly protected, so no worries!

Life is an adventure, get out there and live it!