Tag Archive | Grand Bahama Yacht Club

Remember the Main!

May5

The definition of “cruising” is fixing your boat in exotic locations.

— Author unknown

After enjoying Bimini for almost two weeks, I picked a windless morning in mid-March at Brown’s Marina to raise our mainsail at the slip. I wanted to test the new Tides Marine plastic, low-friction mainsail track that our rigger had installed just two days before we left Florida. We did not even need the mainsail when we motored across the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas because there was no wind. However, we would likely need the mainsail for sailing to West End on Grand Bahama Island the next day, and I needed to make sure everything was working properly at the dock before heading out to sea — where things are harder to fix.

The sail Would. Not. Go. Up.

Motoring in a calm and windless sea.

The mainsail is heavy, so I used the heavy-duty electric winch for persuasion. It only went up part way and then became hopelessly stuck. Releasing the winch, I tried to lower the main. Now, it would not go down! After hanging my full weight on it and bouncing, it finally came all the way down. What was the problem? The mainsail went up and down fine with the old plastic sail track, but would not go up with the new one.

Let’s back up to January and February to explain how we got into this predicament. Our boat mortgage requires us to always have boat insurance. Boat insurance covers sailing in the US, but coverage in the Bahamas requires an insurance endorsement. To get the insurance endorsement, our insurance provider required us to get a hull survey (“inspection”) and a “rigging aloft” survey. The term “rigging aloft” means the mast, boom, spreaders, shrouds, stays, and running rigging. The hull survey went fine. Our regular rigger was then able to perform the rigging survey. Everything was mostly fine, except that he said our old, plastic sail track was cracking and should be replaced. The danger of not replacing sail track is that the mainsail could get stuck in the up position and we would not be able to lower it when we needed to. The choice was clear, we had to replace it. However, the rigger was unable to finish the installation until two days before we sailed. There was no urgency to test it after installation, since it is so simple that nothing could possibly go wrong.

Back in Bimini, we were ready to jump to West End during a short weather window in the middle of March. I scoured the Tides Marine website to figure out the problem. The sail track is a long, low-friction plastic track that is attached to the mast on one side and has a long slot on the other side. Stainless steel sliders are attached to spaced locations on the mainsail and have a flat part that slides up and down inside the slot when the mainsail is raised and lowered, and another part that attaches to the sail. Simple!

Old slider still attached to the mainsail in the new track

The Tides Marine website, however, disclosed a slider manufacturing defect that lasted for several years, and that has long since been corrected. The result was that the old sliders with the manufacturing defect did not fit the new sail tracks. The sliders would get stuck in the track, and that was our problem. We had to get a replacement set of sliders and install them ourselves in the Bahamas.

We motor sailed 64 miles from Bimini north to West End using our engine and jib sail. It is about an 11 hour trip. We were quickly outside of cell tower range, so I deployed our Iridium Go!® satellite communication system. I sent text messages and e-mails to both our rigger and Tides Marine to get an order placed as soon as possible. I did not want to lose even a single day. We were going to be in Freeport / Port Lucaya in a week or two, and that is one of the easiest places to get parts shipped in when in the Bahamas.

Iridium Go!™ satellite communication system

Tides Marine was wonderful to deal with. They acknowledged the manufacturing defect, and agreed to provide and ship the replacement set of sliders to us for free. The retail price of the replacement sliders was about $1000, and shipping from the US to the Bahamas would have cost hundreds.

Getting boat parts shipped to another country is more complicated than shipping to destinations in the US. The quintessential way that you read about in the cruising guides and online is as follows. You get your parts to the US base of a tiny Caribbean airline like Makers Air. Their base is at a small airport outside of Fort Lauderdale. The airline puts your package on a puddle jumper airplane and they land at an airstrip somewhere close to you in the Caribbean. You hire a “customs broker” of your choice to navigate the impossible-to-understand paperwork. Think like you’re hiring a bail bondsman, picking him out of a list of names in the phone book. In my mind, a customs broker is a mustachioed man in a Panama hat and loud tropical shirt who may or may not have to pass the customs man a $50 to get your goods out of the pokey. Instead, I chose FedEx.

“Customs broker”

Why not ship FedEx? There are 700 islands in the Bahamas, but there are only two FedEx offices in the whole country. Fortunately, we were going very close to the one in Freeport, which is just five miles from Port Lucaya, our marina destination. I told Tides Marine to put my name on the shipping label and “hold for pickup.” As a cruiser, I have done this for other shipments in the US, and it seemed like the most straightforward way to get my shipment.

I checked the status of my shipment online daily using the tracking number provided by Tides Marine, and for 11 days it said “waiting for customs clearance.” I phoned FedEx customer service almost every day to see when the shipment would be released and if there was anything I needed to do. Each time, the agent told me the release would be very soon, and there is absolutely nothing I needed to do to receive my shipment. I asked whether I should go to the FedEx store in Freeport and talk with a representative. Absolutely not!

So, the next day I took a taxi the five miles to FedEx store and back so I could talk with a representative in person. The taxi cost me $80 round trip. That was very steep, but I understand they have flat rates on Grand Bahama Island. I had considered walking. However, my taxi was a spotless, unmarked black Range Rover driven by “Mr. Forbes” in a starched, white button-down shirt, who waited for me outside while I did my business with FedEx. I paid the fare, realizing it was just the cost of doing business to get my parts so we could repair our mainsail and sail on to our next destination.

At the FedEx store, the clerk was very helpful and very friendly. The steps for receiving an international package were clearly printed on a poster hung on the wall, and I had never heard of any of these steps in any cruising guide. I will share them with you so that you will not have to suffer the delays that we did:

  • Create a user ID and password on the Click2Clear website and register as an “importer.” There is no charge for this, and needs to be done only once. Cruisers in the Bahamas are required to use Click2Clear to apply for a cruising permit, but there is otherwise no need to create a user ID and password. FedEx registered me as an importer while I waited at no charge.
  • Fill out Bahamas Customs Form C44, which allows FedEx to act as my customs broker. They also had to scan my passport.
  • Present an original invoice and/or receipt for the goods showing the description. FedEx accepted the PDF invoice that Tides Marine had sent me by email.
  • Email all documents to FPOIMPORT@FEDEX.COM with the tracking number in the subject line.
Clear instructions for clearing customs

After all that, the FedEx rep said Bahamas Customs could release my parts as soon as tomorrow. I received an email the very next day that my package had been released!

Instead of spending another $80 on a taxi, I found that I could take a “public bus” for about $2 each way. There is no bus schedule, there is no route map, and the bus stops are unmarked. But they show up every 30 – 60 minutes or so and somehow get you close to your destination. The “buses” are beat-up Mitsubishi minivans and the driver is usually playing Bahamian “rake and scrape” music on the radio enthusiastically. The buses themselves are a trip, the drivers and passengers are friendly, and I always got off the bus smiling. I took a public bus to FedEx and back and saved myself about $76 in taxi fare.

I had to pay import duty and pay for FedEx as my customs broker. All in, the fees came to about $50.

Just cleared customs

The next day, with 18 pieces of highly machined stainless steel of three different sizes in hand, I undertook the chore of replacing each of the old, bad sliders with a new one. This involved partially raising the mainsail at the marina slip so that I could remove an old slider one at a time and install a new slider — without having the mainsail catch the wind and cause damage. The chore took most of a day. I tested my work by raising the main all the way up to the top and letting it drop when I released the main halyard. Catmandu finally passed the test. Now, all we had to do is wait for the wind to change.

Installing the new sliders into the mainsail track
“Remember the Main”

The actual phrase is “Remember the Maine,” a slogan of the Spanish-American War following the explosion of the US battleship Maine in Havana Harbor in 1898.

The Sailboat that Couldn’t Sail

May1

Dreaming is happiness. Waiting is life.
— Victor Hugo


If we learn to enjoy waiting, we don’t have to wait to enjoy.
— Kazuaki Tanahashi

Our easterly route from Ginn Sur Mer followed the southern coast of Grand Bahama Island, which looked nearly deserted until we got closer to Freeport. The marine traffic picked up as we neared the harbor entrance, with a few huge cargo ships and tankers. Something was burning in Freeport, sending up clouds of heavy smoke. There were terminals out in the water for the tankers to offload oil and gas. It all seemed ugly and industrial to me after the deserted natural beauty of Ginn Sur Mer.

Kay at the front gate of the Grandma Yacht Club.
We entered Bell Channel, shown on the right, and took a slip at Grand Bahama Yacht Club. The Lucaya Marketplace is to the left of the yacht club, and some of the canals we explored are to the right.

After hearing other boaters calling for the “Grandma Mama Yacht Club,” we finally got our slip assignment and pulled easily into the C dock at Grand Bahama Yacht Club. This would end up being our favorite marina on this trip, even though we were stuck here waiting for boat parts (we still could not raise our mainsail) and a weather window. It’s not bad being stuck close to town with a pool, a pool bar and a restaurant, in a slip near the bathrooms and laundry. 

The marina buildings were well maintained and featured the architectural style seen here, with open verandas, arched entryways, and white picket fences. Phil is sitting on the steps.

We were docked next to a large catamaran called Isle of Misfits, with artwork depicting the Misfit Toys from the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer cartoon-movie. After tidying the lines and fenders, we headed to the pool bar for a celebratory beer, unaware that it didn’t open until 4. As we sat waiting for a bartender to arrive, two men sat down next to us at the bar.

Our neighbors’ boat was decorated with characters from the Isle of Misfit Toys. (Photo courtesy of their Facebook group.)

“Are you our new neighbors?” one asked. “We are the Misfits.” We introduced ourselves and gave them a boat card. We chatted about our boat names, mentioning that we were waiting for sail parts that might arrive in Freeport any day now. Just before they left, one said to me, “I just realized that you are misfits, too. Remember the boat that couldn’t float? You are the sailboat that couldn’t sail.”

(For a great laugh when you need one, please read Ben Bowman’s ranking of the Misfit Toys.)

Phil befriended a blue-eyed stranger at the pool bar. She is the figurehead at the bow of the boat-shaped bar at Pisces Restaurant.

Life at Grandma Yacht Club

We settled into marina life, filling our days with cleaning chores, laundry, and a couple of trips to the large grocery store (Solomons) in a courtesy van. The marina offers rides every weekday at noon. I also had to have blood drawn for my oncologist in Fort Lauderdale, and Phil found an in-network lab we could walk to. (To be honest, I really couldn’t. I was out of breath and in pain by the time we finished the mile and a half in the hot sun. We took a taxi back.) Meanwhile, we waited for our package. Phil called, emailed, and visited FedEx and Customs. The first visit to the FedEx office cost $80 for the taxi. He found the city bus after that ($1.50).

On laundry day, we went to the office for quarters, and Phil wanted to take a picture of the marina sign. He brought along a burgee (flag) he’d saved from his first visit here on his neighbor’s sailboat 19 years ago. As we were posing, we asked a dock hand to take our picture – and he stared hard at the flag we were holding.

“Where did you get that?” he asked.

“Right here, 19 years ago,” said Phil.

“I think I gave that to you,” he said with a grin. “I’m Fabian. I’ve been here 23 years. I recognize that old flag.”

Fabian took this picture of us with our “VIP” burgee. Phil had gotten it the first time he docked here, 19 years ago on a friend’s boat.

We were VIPs after that, and people at the pool told us they heard the story from Fabian. We flew that flag, our VIP flag, for the rest of our visit.

The pool was amazingly clean and pretty cold. We spent a few afternoons here.

We loved the swimming pool and visited often. It was cold, but clean with a waterfall and bridge at one end and lanes for laps. We struck up conversations with other boaters there, and learned a little about Port Lucaya, the ferry service, and a place to dock the dinghy near the bars and restaurants at the market square. We also encountered a woman walking a large black pig like a dog. “Oh, that’s Chris,” Phil was told. “Short for Chris P. Bacon.”

Meet Chris P. Bacon, a pet pig that roamed the marina. He is obviously not one of the pigs who can swim.

Back in the Dinghy Again

We explored Port Lucaya and the nearby waterways by dinghy every chance we got.

Of course, our favorite pastime while we waited for sail parts was dinghy rides. We were advised by various cruising guides not to anchor within sight of the marina. We went into the canals to find alternate anchoring spots, but every one of the possible sites had a no anchoring sign.

Although there were possible anchorages in the canals, they all had “no anchoring” signs erected by the marina.

Along the way, we found derelict boats, derelict houses, wrecked docks, and a few construction sites. One large marina adjacent to Port Lucaya Marketplace is completely wrecked, even worse than it was when we visited by land several years ago. No one seems to be interested in repairing it.

In spite of its perfect location at Port Lucaya Marketplace, this marina has been closed for years.

On one excursion, we came across this boat, and Phil said, “Now there’s a boat I could afford!”

Phil nearly adopted this derelict. I warned him not to get too close.

Phil called it a tramp steamer. For some reason, it reminded me of a scene in a movie that I couldn’t quite remember.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if there were monkeys,” I said.

We both laughed because I realized that must have sounded like a random thought to Phil, not knowing what I was trying to remember: a movie with monkeys taking over a similar boat. (If you know what I was thinking of, please identify the movie in the comments.)

Phil thought this was a boat he could afford.

We took the dinghy to the Port Lucaya Marketplace several times, parking it near the ferry landing by Sabor’s Restaurant. We walked around the shops, restaurants and bars, buying very little. At Happy Hour, we sometimes found ourselves at Rum Runner, where the music was loud and often featured American country.

Kay enjoying an adult beverage at Rum Runners. We were practically regulars.

We talked with other patrons at the bar: a pair of flight attendants from Texas; a “Conchy Joe” who explained that his nickname was what they called White Bahamians; and other travelers who sipped the tall, icy concoctions made by the busy Bahamian bartenders.

Phil and I spent a couple of beers at Bones, a neighborhood bar with a dinghy dock.
Fair Play was another happy hour spot at the Lucaya Marketplace. This background looks painted, but it is real.

Three weeks slipped away, and we were still waiting for the sliders that would fix our mainsail. Phil will tell that part of the tale, but as he did everything he could to unite us with our package, we enjoyed the amenities and camaraderie of Grandma Mama Yacht Club. Until the day before we left, Catmandu continued to be the embodiment of a misfit toy: the sailboat that couldn’t sail.