SUPERMOON! SUPERDUMB!

Georgetown, Exumas 23º21.48N | 75º45.94W

The rare 'supermoon' was also super shy.

They're calling tonight's full moon a supermoon -- something that happens only once in a blue moon (actually longer) -- something about the moon being closer to the earth. Or something. Whatever.

Do you remember that lesson we learned last November on the ICW about full moons and run-call-your-mama low tides? Well, whatever.

Today, on supermoon, supertide day, we chose dead low tide to cross Elizabeth Harbor, shallow at the best of times, and pull up to a shallow all the time dock -- just to fill our water tank.

Why? No, really, I hope you can answer that. Why? I don't know. Something about moons and lunacy perhaps.

It did not help that there were boats anchored in the freakin' channel, all over it. The dockmaster guided us via the VHF -- right into a sandbar.

So we went back and threaded our way through and around the anchored boats and limped up to the dock, then wisely (if you can be wise in the middle of being stupid) stayed tied up until the tide turned.

In the meantime, two of our friends had made the long crossing from the anchorage and into Georgetown in their dinghies. That's one of the tough things about anchoring here: the dinghy ride across the water is loooong -- 20-30 minutes -- and wet. Most of us don foul weather gear, or garbage bags. Johanna from Snowbird just strips right down to her bathing suit in anticipation of the dousing.

So, since we were crossing back to the anchorage in the big, dry boat, we offered them all a lift.

Our rubber dinglings.

One boat, six people, three dinghies, six opinions on anchoring.

Lunacy.

Chip, waiting for the supermoon -- and a shot of vodka.

Elizabeth Harbor from Stocking Island, Georgetown across the water.

New album: The Swedes of Snowbird. Now we just need the music ....

A MOMENT IN TIME

Georgetown, Exumas 23º21.48N | 75º45.94W

There is a reason I travel: a constant quest to experience transcendent moments, few and rare, in a far-flung place, experiencing a true, uncontrived moment that connects me to humankind.

The mesmerizing thrum of drums and shakers, marching feet and blaring tubas, trumpets, brilliant white paint on black skin, white costumes shot through with bursts of blue and orange and yellow. Pound, pound, pounding feet.

A Junkanoo band threading its way through the crowd, stringing me along upon some common thread running back through history and time, a thread through horns and drums and facepaint, through generations of love and joy and suffering and tears, and right through me, stringing me to all that came before.

THE GEORGETOWN THING

Georgetown, Exumas 23º21.48N | 75º45.94W

Underway to Georgetown.

That sketchy cut at Emerald Bay was kind to us. There was swell, but it only tossed us around a bit. Nothing scary. We had a brisk and exhilarating, door-to-door sail today in 18 to 20 knots of wind with good swells. The wind direction wasn't ideal (is it ever?) so we tacked way out into Exuma Sound and back in -- several times. Picking our way into the enormous Elizabeth Harbor, we dropped anchor right next to Unicorn for a long awaited reunion with yet another cruising couple we met in St. Mary's at Thanksgiving and hooked up with again in Vero Beach.

Within the cruising community, Georgetown is either famous or infamous, depending on whether you're a supporter or a detractor. Hundreds of cruising boats anchor here, some all winter, in Elizabeth Harbor east of Georgetown, the largest town in the Exumas. This is, at some level, a boon to the local economy even though cruisers are not known for throwing around cash. However, with hundreds of boats provisioning and going out for beer, I'm sure it adds up. Some of the cruisers have found ways to support the community, raising funds for various projects. (I'm sure there are other ways that cruisers give back. If you know, please comment on this post.) On the other hand, a big percentage of these hundreds of boats pump their waste into the otherwise clear harbor and have been known for pressing the limits of "free" offerings such as water and wifi.

There is an actual governing committee for the floating community here with a "cruisers' net" in the morning for news, weather, local business ads and allotted time for arriving boats to check in and departing boats to say farewell. A cruisers' exchange follows for boaters to offer and partake of goods and services. There are organized activities such as poker, volleyball, swimming classes, basket weaving (really), bridge lessons, and their ultimate week of activities surrounding cruisers' regatta culminating in a ceremony and talent show on shore.

We timed our arrival in Georgetown after the crowded Cruisers' Regatta (unfortunately missing a few friends) and before the Bahamian Music and Heritage Fest, a few days after most of the cruising boats left the still-crowded harbor.

Double reefed. The new reefing rig is working great.

We're once again anchored down amongst friends and looking forward to some Rake and Scrape!

STOCKING ISLANDERS

Emerald Bay, Exumas 23º46.7N | 76º5.11W

Church in Rolleville, Great Exuma.

What do cruisers do when they have a car? Provision! But not before taking care of business -- and breakfast.

Dale (Jessie Marie), sweet guy that he is, noticed that the workbench on Sea Gal is in a part of the boat with only about five feet of headroom, about a foot and a half too short for Barney, so he decided to donate a stool to the cause.

In a replay of yesterday, we stood on shore howling, whistling and waving, this time with a stool.

Karen and Dale hailing Sea Gal.

Barney came over in the dinghy, and, always one to entertain, he didn't disappoint.

Barney trying out his new stool.

Next order of business: breakfast. We drove along Great Exuma with visions of omelets and toast and bacon dancing in our heads. The Bahamians clearly had a different vision that ran more toward sheep's tongue and pig's feet. Soup. 

AWESOME. If you like souse for breakfast.

The guys decided to go in whole hog, so to speak.

Dale had pig's feet.

Chip had sheep's tongue.

I chickened out and had chicken.

And you were wondering why I found breakfast blog worthy. We eked through the souse, just that once, but found the Johnny cakes spectacular, somewhere between bread and cake. Yum.

Finally, we hit the supermarkets. Real, well-stocked supermarkets, our first in seven weeks, where you can even shop from a list.

Living large -- and well provisioned.

No, Chip's not picking up extra cash, he's carrying our purchases
from the liquor store (which did not include any wine).

TWO dock carts of groceries.