Troop 318 from Raleigh, North Carolina 

Preface

“Did you get any info on your troop?” Chichi, the interim Bahamas Seabase director, asks after handing us the final provisions. 

“Nope,” I say, “we don’t know anything, yet.”

“Okay, this troop has some allergies. Some don’t eat pork, some don’t eat beef, and there is an egg allergy.”

Yippie, I think to myself.

“You’ve only got seven today. One father and son missed their flight, and they’ll arrive tomorrow. Same time,” Chichi adds.

“Okay, we’ll come back into Marsh Harbour tomorrow and pick them up at Union Pier,” I confirm. “Do we know anything else?”

“They actually requested you.”

“They did? Where are they from?”

“Virginia,” she says.

At half-past two, the troop is ready to board. 

“This is Captain Cameron,” Chichi introduces me and heads back to her car.

I have to laugh. What is it with my name? Why is everyone calling me Cameron this summer instead of Carmen?? But I’m flexible, so whatever.

“How many adults?” I ask.

“Three,” they say.

“How many youths?”

“Seven.”

“Okay, so two more will arrive tomorrow, right?”

“No, nobody else is coming.”

“I thought two missed their flight?” I insist.

“No, nobody else is coming.”

Okay. We’re flexible here.

Once abord, luggage stowed away, we get into the safety briefing.

“So, you guys are from Virginia?” I ask.

“No, we’re from Raleigh, North Carolina.”

“Okay… and we have a few food allergies?”

“No, no allergies.”

Wait a minute. “Do we have the right troop?” I ask Captain Steve.

“Probably,” he says.

I think not.

I hail Chichi on the radio and ask her to meet me. She just took another troop to our sister vessel, Viento Azul. 

“Chichi,” I ask when we meet, “did you give us the right troop? There are ten of them, not seven. They are from North Carolina, not from Virginia. And they don’t have any allergies. Oh, and nobody else is coming, nobody missed their plane. Is it possible I got the wrong troop?”

Chichi is puzzled. 

“I don’t think so,” she says, leafing through her notes. 

“Perhaps my troop is on Viento Azul instead?” I insist.

“Did I get them confused?” she wonders as she compares the list of names.

The problem, of course, is that two of the catamarans have nearly identical names, Viento Azul and Los Vientos. Steve and I used to own Viento Azul and Ted and Gail used to own Los Vientos. Now it’s the other way around. Gail and I routinely answer the other’s radio calls—a force of habit.

We continue to compare the notes and it does look like we switched troops—or boats, as it may be. 

“Have they settled in already?” Chichi wants to know.

“Pretty much,” I say, “the luggage is all stowed away and I just started the safety briefing. Can’t we just keep things as they are?”

“Let’s,” she says, ever pragmatic.

June 18 – Day 1 – Marsh Harbour

Most troops are somewhat comatose on the first day. They come from anywhere in the mainland U.S.; they get up early; and then they catch one, two, or three flights. By the time they arrive in Marsh Harbour, they’re pooped. This troop isn’t any different.

I go through the safety briefing as quickly as I can, and we get underway. Part-way, I take the adults—Doug D., Doug M., and Brian—aside and we have a brief chat about expectations and such. It takes barely an hour to motor to Matt Lowe Cay. Once there, the boys get their first lesson in anchoring.

Next is the obligatory swim test. Everyone passes and off they go, snorkeling to shore to explore the waters and rocks at Matt Lowe Cay.

Andrés, the crew chief, stays behind and we discuss his duties for the week. He decides on Sloppy Joe’s for dinner—one of my suggestions for a quick and easy first meal. 

After dinner, I do the ‘Life Aboard’ briefing and then everybody scrambles to get their sleeping mats and sheets. The boat is silent within minutes. Steve and I watch the sunset and wonder what to do with ourselves so early in the evening.

“That’s a record,” he says.

“No kidding.”

Everyone is out and it’s barely dark, yet.

June 19 – Day 2 – Matt Lowe Cay

‘Early to bed, early awake’ or something along those lines. By 7 am a bevy of busy feet trample around the boat and I reluctantly get up.

The wind shifted from east to south overnight making for an interesting anchor circle.

In the galley, Captain Steve is making coffee for me and the Dougs. Both of us have a splitting headache, probably due to dehydration. We are good about reminding the crews to stay hydrated but not so good at following our own advice.

The boys make scrambled eggs and pancakes for breakfast, then we head northeast to Fowl Cay Reef. While underway, I give my usual talk on reef ecology, snorkeling technique, and responsible snorkeling. 

At the reef, we need to set the anchor twice but finally, we’re perfectly located in the middle of three patch reefs, including tombstone.

Everyone jumps in. New masks are already prepped and off they go. I, too, head to the reef after all the buddy teams have reached the patch of corals and are cruising along.

After lunch, Captain Steve dinghies some snorkelers to the outer reef where we continue to explore. Cumulonimbus clouds are rapidly building along the horizon to the north, west, and south. We get everyone aboard, and Steve and I study the last 30 minutes on the radar. Storm cells are popping up everywhere and merging and dividing and building and receding. There is no way to predict what’s going to happen or where it’s going to happen. 

“Let’s get out of here,” I say.

“Where to?” asks Steve.

“Doesn’t matter,” I reply, “as long as it doesn’t catch us at the reef.

We pull anchor and motor back into the Sea of Abaco. The situation is changing by the minute. There is lightning everywhere and a beautiful waterspout touches down to the west. We herd the boys inside and give them playing cards to keep them busy.

We see Viento Azul on the AIS just south of us. Steve texts Ted, “Where are you heading?”

“I’m running. Not heading anywhere.” Ted replies.

I keep studying the radar. The biggest cell, south of us, is starting to wane and fall apart. 

“South,” I say, “let’s head south.”

“Good choice,” says Steve and we head towards Tahiti Beach.

I text a picture of the weakening southern cell to Viento Azul and Adonai, the third catamaran in the fleet, with the words “Heading south.”

Half an hour later, we’re anchoring at Tahiti Beach. Adonai is already there. Viento Azul arrives a bit later. They’d continued south but are now back at Tahiti. 

The storms have subsided, and the boys jump in and swim to shore to search for coconuts.

Before dinner and before darkness sets in, we pull anchor and move into slightly deeper water to avoid waking up aground and having to wait for high tide. 

Dinner is hamburgers and salad. Most eat two. Good thing they delivered a huge box of patties. Perhaps half was supposed to go to another boat. Who knows. The provisioning is still a challenge.

Some of the boys want to do night watch, so I brief them on their watch duties. Grayson and Sam take the first two hours from 2100 to 2300. Max takes the next shift from 2300 to ‘2500’ by himself as Logan was not waking up. Finally, Andrés and Grayson (again) take the ‘2500’. All observe lightning at some time while the boat sleeps deeply. 

June 20 – Day 3 – Tahiti Beach

I wake up to a light rain that’s slowly soaking my blanket. 

“Thanks for closing my hatch,” I mumble groggily.

The wind has has really shifted overnight. We started with wind from the north, generated locally by the storms but it subsided and we started to drift over the anchor. This morning, the wind is again coming from the south and we’ve drawn a near perfect anchor circle.

There’s a bit of thunder and lightning around us, so the pancake breakfast gets nixed. We settle on cereal and Honey Buns instead. Between getting up early again and not much to do for breakfast, we’re pulling anchor around 8 am.

The wind has has really shifted overnight. We started with wind from the north, generated locally by the storms but it subsided and we started to drift over the anchor. This morning, the wind is again coming from the south and we’ve drawn a near perfect anchor circle.

We’re cruising north and I spot a few dolphins ahead. The boys congregate at the bow and the dolphins come ever closer. They seem to be heading in the opposite direction and we watch them swim alongside and then disappear behind us.

Cool, cool, cool.

In less than one hour, we’re anchored off Hope Town. Captain Steve dinghies the first group to the lighthouse, then the second one.

“One o’clock pick-up at the public dock,” he says.

Great, I think, that gives me time to catch up on chores.

“Are you busy?” Steve asks.

“Why? What are you thinking?”

“Let’s go take the dinghy and explore,” he says.

“Okay,” I say. “But let’s have breakfast first.”

We make hard-boiled egg sandwiches, pack our gear, and head out. There is more reef off Elbow Cay, and we jump in, painter in hand, to drift with the dinghy back toward shore.

Elbow Reef looks like any other reef in the Sea of Abaco. Small hard coral here and there but mostly algae and soft coral. Still, a snorkel is a snorkel, and any snorkel is a great snorkel. 

We see lots of sea biscuits. I’m not sure how to tell whether they’re alive or dead, so I don’t take any. I find a beautiful conch with incredible coloring and take a picture of the nearly iridescent underside before gently placing it back in the seagrass.

Once we’ve drifted past all the reefs, we climb back into the dinghy and head back to the mother ship. I take some pictures with the lighthouse in the background. A large Cumulonimbus cloud hovers to the south. It too makes it into some of the pictures.

Back on board, we change and head into town to pick up the troop. I head to town to buy granola and Vaseline, but both the big market and Vernon’s Market are closed for lunch. Go figure.

I catch the second dinghy ride back to Los Vientos where the first group has changed into swim gear and is jumping into the water and cooling off.

Captain Steve briefs the troop about sailing on Los Vientos. The boys are learning sail positions and the names of the lines and sheets involved in sailing. We get underway and start sailing. Mason puts ballyhoo on the hook and lets out his line.

Around 4 pm, Mason has a bite on his lure. He struggles a bit to reel it in but makes it pretty much all the way. We’re lined up on the stern, watching as the fish repeatedly jumps out of the water as it gets closer. It puts up a good fight and we all cheer Mason on as he continues to reel hard and fast. 

Suddenly, the fish is under us, thrashing between the hulls—it’s a barracuda. It disappears under the aft port hull, then it zips toward the bow. Mason is still trying to reel it in all the way when the large barracuda makes a break for it and disappears with the lure. So close!!

Mason and Max continue to fish while we motor north to the Low Spot on northern Elbow Cay.

Doug M makes Chicken-Ramen-Stir Fry for dinner. Once on the table, the food disappears in mere minutes. A record among records.

Everyone is still wearing their steel-toed boots, so we play Project Runway at the bow. Everyone sits down and listens as one by one, the boys walk from the starboard pulpit to the stern where they cross to the port side, then proceed toward the port pulpit without making any sounds. Everyone practices waking stealthily on the ball of the foot instead of the heel and I look forward to a quiet night.

June 21 – Day 4 – Elbow Cay

It’s another early morning. The troop makes scrambled omelet and sausage for breakfast. Then Captain Steve dinghies everyone to the beach for a hike into town. 

Meanwhile, another system builds and makes its way south, toward us. Steve and I move Los Vientos closer to town, so we can bail more quickly should we need to. Shortly after noon, the troop is aboard. We hoist the dinghy and pull anchor. 

We get some rain, but for once there’s no lightning. The boys unfurl the jib and we motor-sail north toward Guana Cay. 

Mason and Logan are fishing. We’re almost at tonight’s anchorage when Mason has another bite. This time, the fish doesn’t get away—and it’s a Mutton Snapper, which is edible and delicious.

Captain Steve cuts off the head and cleans out the guts. Mason and Max remove the scales which are flying everywhere, including into Max’s hair. The scales are the size of a dime and shimmer prettily against Max’s dark hair. Max is not amused. He flicks the scales off and continues to scape.

Once we’re close to the Settlement on Guana Cay we drop anchor and put the dinghy back into the water.

It’s early, yet, but too rainy to go swimming so I talk about prevailing winds and weather patterns in the North Atlantic Basin. There’s restrained interest and I’m encouraged.

Afterward, we play UNO. Ben’s hand seems questionable throughout. Nobody gets that many triples! A few games in, Andrés bends toward me and asks if I have a 2+ card. I nod. Andrés discards two 2+ cards, I add one, and Grayson has to draw 6 cards. Nice. 

Max wins at least six times. He continues to get action cards at an unlikely rate. Hmmm…

Dinner time is approaching, and we play one last round. Sam throws down two 2+ cards, then Andrés adds a third. It’s my turn. Darn these boys. But Max has a spare and shoots it across the table. I react too late to catch it and it slides onto the floor between me and Grayson. Grayson hasn’t been paying attention. He’s been sorting his cards. He picks up the stray card and asks if it’s mine. “Sure,” I say, and add it to the discard pile. Grayson gets to draw eight cards. Well played.

It’s Taco Tuesday, so that’s what’s on the menu. The boys cook up three pounds of ground beef and cut lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. Andrés adds chips and salsa. Mason seasons his fish and Grayson grills it up. It’s awesome!

June 23 – Day 5 – Great Guana

It’s been windy all night. The wind direction hasn’t changed much and the anchor circle is tight. It’s a great day for sailing! 

The boys prepare French toast for breakfast then do the dishes. The cleaning crew tackles the heads. Captain Steve and I hoist the dinghy.

At the bow, Grayson points for me, Mason and Logan get the anchor up, and we get underway. 

Captain Steve reminds the crew about sail positions and lines. Then I point Los Vientos into the wind and Ben, Max, and Logan hoist the main sail. Mason is on starboard, manning the main sheet. The wind is clocking in around 15 knots and we’re making good speed, about 5-6 knots, so I shut down the engines. We sail west, across the Sea of Abaco, toward Treasure Cay for Cinnamon rolls. 

Andrés, Ben, and Max unfurl the jib. Mason takes the helm. He’s driving hard and manages to get the speed up to 8 knots. Impressive!

We jibe a few times and communication and line-handling get ever smoother and more efficient. We’re sailing at top speed. The boys have got it down!

We’re closing in on Treasure Cay when our sister ship, Viento Azul, appears and challenges us. The boys get into position and the race is on! Andrés is at the helm. Max and Mason get ready to tack. Grayson is managing the jib furling line. In the excitement, the jib gets sheeted in too far and has to be let back out. Ben and Sam–mainsheet on the winch–are ready on starboard.

Both catamarans remain in a close race on a starboard tack. But then Viento Azul calls on the radio.

“We’re bailing,” they say.

“Okay, we’ll make room for you,” I answer back.

Andrés eases to port and Viento Azul crosses our bow, port to starboard. Once clear, Andrés comes back to starboard, and we continue on course.

We get to Treasure Cay, the boys furl the jib, Captain Steve starts the engines, and Max gets ready to lower the main sail. 

I take Los Vientos through the channel, past newly remodeled sandbars, courtesy of Hurricane Dorian, and we motor into Treasure Cay Harbour. Two trips with the dinghy and we’re at the still devastated pool bar dock. Everyone climbs up and over and walks across the grass fields toward the only building left where Florence is still baking her famous cinnamon rolls. 

I wander over to the interior store to shop for forks. We’re getting pretty low and I’ve been eating my dinners with a baby fork. All they have is a full set of silverware for $85. I don’t think so but what else do they have? I make my way past furniture, pillows, dishes, wall art, bedding, and a little bit of everything else a home needs. Most of their stuff is new but just outside I spot two barstools that look like they were pricey once but are second-hand now. The bottoms look like they’ve sat in mud but otherwise, they look great.

“How much for the bar stools outside?” I ask the clerk.

“Which ones?”

“The wooden ones. The used ones,” I clarify.

“They’re $50.”

After consulting with Steve, I buy the two stools. I’ll still be eating with a baby fork but at least we can now sit down to eat.

Back on the boat, no one is inclined to cook. The boys grab chips and salsa but that’s all the effort they’re capable of. They’re still in a sugar coma so I bring out sandwich stuff. We’ll keep the Mac & Cheese for tomorrow.

Once everyone is semi-responsive again, we motor out of the Harbour. Ben, Sam, and Max hoist the main sail, Grayson mans the furling line, Logan stands by for the jib sheet, and off we sail. We start out on a hard starboard tack toward Water Cay. The wind is from the south so all we can do is keep on tacking. Seven times in all. 

Meanwhile, Mason and Grayson fish from the back deck, while Sam and Ben take over at the helm.

At about three o’clock, Mason’s hat flies overboard. We reel in the fishing lines and turn to starboard. This is the second MOB drill with this crew.

I take over at the helm and aim for the hat that floats serenely on the surface. I straddle it with both hulls and turn to port to allow the hat to float up against the inside of the starboard hull. Captain Steve is on the sugar scoop, hook in hand, and catches the errand hat as it emerges at the stern, not as close as I’d hoped, but reachable.

“It’s wet now,” Mason says, looking down at the hat in his hand.

“Sounds about right,” says Captain Steve.

We get back on track and Andrés and I start getting the big white cooler ready for the shore campfire. Hot dogs, buns, ketchup, mustard, chili, paper towels, paper plates, aluminum foil, hot dog forks, etc.

Water Cay hasn’t good holding and we have to reset the anchor a couple of times before we’re well dug in. Captain Steve takes the first group ashore to build the fire. Mason and Max are on it, gathering firewood and building a pile. Grayson decides to simplify things by dragging half a tree into camp.

Doug M. cooks the chili, four boys roast hot dogs with our Smores forks, and the rest of the troop plays on the beach, looking for treasure in the form of coconuts and shells.

Viento Azul lands nearby and takes their troop ashore. They forgot to bring matches or lighters and come over to borrow ours. 

The unofficial hot dog eating contest is won by Logan with a total of six chili hot dogs eaten, followed by Mason with five chili dogs, and Max who eats four chili dogs. 

“We ran out of hot dogs,” Max explains his score.

June 24 – Day 6 – Water Cay

The boys make pancakes for breakfast, then we head to Fowl Cay for one last awesome snorkel. I make the Mac & Cheese for the crew while they’re in the water to save some time. From Fowl Cay Reef we motor to Mermaid Reef for a mini snorkel and an optional Joy shower. Not everyone takes us up on it but some do.

After that, it’s back to Marsh Harbour, where we start to clean the boat and load the next crew’s provisions. We’re all a bit tired but everyone pitches in, and we get the boat clean in record time. 

Sorting and putting away the groceries, is my least favorite part of the week. The boys go back to playing cards and I join for one game of UNO before we start dinner prep. The pork chops have been thawing in the sink but some are still frozen and we’re not ready to grill them up. The galley crew prepares a saltbath. When the grill finally gets going, I make mashed potatoes, green beans, and corn. After that, I’m out for the count with a splitting headache. 

June 24 – Day 7 – Marsh Harbour

It’s cereal and pop tarts for breakfast. Afterward, I present the troop with the Bahamas Sea Base patches, and a map of Great Abaco, and the Captain’s award, which is well deserved. 

Taxis arrive around 9:15 am and troop 318 returns to Raleigh, North Carolina.

Respectfully submitted,

Capt. Carmen
S/V Los Vientos