Up again, before the sun, we follow Manitou through the cut south of Stocking Island. Of the ten boats heading north, we were the only two to traverse the southern route. We chose to do this to have a better angle on the wind for a close reach sail to Cat Island. It is safe to assume when you see more than one sailboat sailing in the same direction, it’s a race; and this goes unsaid amongst sailors. We snapped some pics of Manitou as Josephine swiftly stretched her legs and sailed on by. Sorry to rub that in, Captain Pete. They graciously did the same for us!
About two hours from Cat Island with depths approximately two thousand feet, Mother Ocean generously provided us with a three-foot dorado (mahi mahi). It was a fighter in and out of the water and it looked like a murder scene in our cockpit. Unfortunately for us our quarter berth port light, that opens into the cockpit, was open, and fish blood splattered onto the foot of our sheets. Even with blood everywhere, nothing could put a damper on the joy of catching our first dorado.
To clean this, I took our bucket and made seven trips to the anchor locker on the bow, to use our wash down pump to fill the bucket with saltwater and then walk it back to the cockpit in an attempt to get the blood out. Before my eighth trip, when most of the blood was washed off, Blake suggested running the water hose from the wash down spigot to the cockpit. I just took a moment and looked at him, wondering why this wasn’t an idea seven trips ago. It’s not exactly easy carrying a bucket of water on a moving boat but it was done.
As we continued to bask in our glory, the ocean kept giving, and we saw a small pod of whales. We aren’t sure what kind; we just know they were way too big to be dolphins and did not move like sharks. We were in awe of everything that was ocean, the generosity, the color, the creatures, everything!
There were pockets of rain ahead, so we put on our rain jackets and made sure ALL port lights and hatches were closed. We received a rain shower; exactly what was needed, a freshwater rinse.
If that wasn’t enough, I look up and see a rainbow on the horizon. I was so moved with gratitude by the abundance of gifts we received; tears rolled down my face. All that came to me in that moment was, “Thank you.”
It was our first time to anchor in a heavy rain shower. We approached the anchorage slowly, again behind Manitou. We had given up our first place slot to tend to the dorado and watch the whales. The rain was coming down with such a quantity and force that we could not see. Freya was anchored and got on the radio providing guidance to Manitou in terms of boats and anchorage options. We both dropped the hook on the northern end of Old Bight.
I got to work on making ceviche for the first time, with the guidance from Lin Pardey’s recipe in The Care and Feeding of Sailing Crew. While the lime juice was curing the fish, we received a visit from Susan and Todd from Freya, with welcome gifts of freshly baked banana bread and garden tomatoes from Olive’s Bakery in New Bight. Our hearts were so full and after a ceviche appetizer and blackened mahi on pigeon pea stew, so were our bellies.
