|Looking across the inlet to Old Bahama Bay|
Five is a good number. A boat near us had five on that side as well, but somehow the bow line got loose from the piling. The other four kept her corralled. Friend John tried to get the crew's attention and instead ran afoul of the aluminum boat's Captain (tied next in line) who gave him a line of lip for tapping on their boat. (Better John than me, else someone might have gone swimming this morning.) Later Deb, John, and I fished the line up with a boat hook hauled the bow back in place, and retied the line. We would appreciate it if someone did the same for us, and it only took a couple of minutes. (Fortunately the aluminum boat's Captain didn't make a second appearance and thus avoided an early morning swim.)
We all thought the wayward boat's crew had departed for places unknown but it turns out they were aboard throughout. Having completed a 36 hour passage and arriving with the winds late yesterday, they slept right through the morning excitement. I completely understand.
|The channel to the anchorage north of Old Bahama Bay|
With our neighbor secure Deb and I walked out to the point to check out the ocean. In the Bahamas, when deep ocean waves plow into shallow bottoms and make for seriously lumpy waters, they call it a "rage sea". White caps, breaking waves, passing shadows, and the stunning colors of this water all mixed together make for stunning viewing. My guess is it may be a bit less stunning if out in the middle of it all, either anchored or trying to make way. I was content to have made the weather decision we did, and get our first glimpse of a "rage sea" from a marina.
Later in the day Deb and I did a little snorkeling. The water was a bit murky though not bad enough to prevent us from spotting a ray, about as long as I am tall, buried in the bottom. Honestly, there was no intent to disturb him, but he flushed up and flew away with the sand flowing behind him like a contrail. That kind of made our day. We also spotted some kind of fat and sassy looking eel snug in his hole. There was no intent to disturb him either and this time he stayed snug in his hole, which was fine with me.