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Saturday, May 25, 2013
Crossing to Florida
Since we stretched the time with our friends on Helia to the
last possible moment, we face a final overnight passage to Gun Cay. My shift is
uneventful with great stars, but Tom has a much more exciting watch as Liberator,
two tankers and powerboat vie for space in the narrow channel of the Grand
Banks. By early afternoon we sight Gun Cay. The day brings a livelier sea than
we expected, so we find a refuge in a tiny protected bay. It’s Saturday and the
anchorage fills with day boaters from Miami blaring either Latin or Country
music. It’s back to “civilization” from here on out.
After lunch, Tom and JT snorkel vainly searching for sea
biscuits. When they venture ashore, a kind woman shares some sardines with him
so he can feed the rays. Later, we take our last can of sardines so Zoe and JT
can try. These rays have grown accustomed to being fed and stay nearby in hopes
of a handout. These southern rays are either gunmetal gray or a soft black with
skin that feels like a cat’s tongue. They haven’t any teeth so they suck the
food from the flat palm of a hand. JT captures it perfectly when he says it
feels like the suction of a vacuum cleaner. Zoe is reluctant at first then
befriends a tiny ray who comes back repeatedly to feed from her hand. While
feeding the rays and beach combing I find an elusive cone shell. How lucky! I only
had one and needed a second to complete my collections for the kids.
In the evening just after sunset Tom spies a spotted eagle
ray cruising around the anchorage. They are such unique sea creatures and we
are excited to have seen one on our last night in the Bahamas. The next morning,
just after daybreak, we set sail for Miami. We are crossing the Gulf Stream
which turns out to be strong enough that at times we seem to be staying in
place. An hour into our trip we hear a distress signal and the Coast Guard
follows it with a Pan-pan announcement asking for boaters to call in with information
on when and where they heard the signal, so they can triangulate to narrow the
problem. We comply and continue listening. Later a boat calls to report an
overturned “homemade” sailboat. No one is visible in the water. The scarcity of
information leaves us all wondering whether this was the boat reporting distress.
We finally make it to Biscayne Bay around 4 and shortly thereafter
our friend Cristian comes by with his family and dog Luna on their boat. It’s a
Sunday so there are some 60 to 100 boats in the harbor. It’s fun to have other
kids on the boat again and they enjoy playing with each other while we catch up
with Cristian and Paige. It has been an unusual day, but it has passed
smoothly. At the back of our minds is the thought of the capsized boat and the
distress call. For us though, we are home, safe at last.