'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre
and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, but the sea was calm and the beer
cold, so what could possible go wrong?
Mike (6 foot something), me (5 and half foot) and a tent (5 foot)
had taken up residence on Rose island just 40ish mins sail from our berth in Nassau. As
the tour boats left there was just a few boats anchored by the reef, the LS crew and a
billion sand flies. What more company could one ask for?
As the night drew on the sky lit up with constant flashes of white
light, appearing to roll from one end of the horizon to the other. The thunder has been
rumbling like rocks rolling on rocks in a shallow fast flowing river. The beer had been
flowing like...well, like beer really. In fact the alcohol consumption was very tame,
(relative to the Abaco trip / boat on fire / boat on sandbank saga, but that is another
Crown Royal story) and no one was outrageous. Even the skinny dipping was an act of free
will rather than drunkeness.
As the storm aproached the others went back to the boat and Mike and
I turned in for the night. Or in Mikes case, inside out to try and fit. At this point we
were introduced to a new form of Bahamian wildlife, ...the noseeum ("no see
'um"...geddit), small flies that made the skin feel as though ants were crawling over
the body and which caused hand shaped red welts by the morning. Next came the rain. Then
the wind. Eventually the tent, with more common sense than Mike or I, tried to pack itself
away with the aid of the wind and if it wasn't for serious Kalik abuse my weight my not
have been enough to prevent us paragliding to Barbados.
Early morning revealed a perfect calm and as we packed up (to find
the insect repellant under the tent) I decided to swim over to the Shaker and see if all
was well. Amazingly the LS was still anchored in the same place as it was the previous
night and it dawned on me how things had changed since our first "this can't be
difficult" journey to the island. Members of crew all present; Nikki had not had to
ask "where the F**K" James was on the emergency radio channel. The inflatable
still didn't have the outboard that had fallen into the ocean that fateful day BUT nothing
else was missing. We were not being pulled off the reef by some passers-by in a rowboat.
BASRA (Bahamas Air Sea Rescue Assoc) had not required our services. (That is to say that
on a couple of occasions they had been called out to aid us but it was purely for training
purposes you understand and, as such, for their benefit) and Even Mike was with us instead
of working over the weekend.
Ana's Version of the
Rose Island Storm Adventure
Friday night was Hammerheads night and it was a good opportunity for the girls to meet
their fellow crewmates and also get acquainted with the local brew…our favorite
Kalik.
Saturday morning quickly arrived and we all prepared anxiously for the sail. Neither Kat nor Diane had ever been on a sailboat
before, so on the way to the dock, I explained the general information about the boat and
all the safety stuff (as per our Sailing Instructor extraordinaire Captain Dan).
Half and hour later, the Shaker set
sail with me at the helm. It was wonderful!! The skies were clear and the wind brisk. One the best sailing days I could remember. The crew happily enjoyed cracking open the first
round of Kaliks as the enjoyed the raging sun, cooled by the brisk breeze.
As we approached Rose Island, we
carefully winded our way through the channel between two ocean reefs. And there it was, our spot for the night. We anchored and filled the dinghy with supplies
and everyone jumped in the clear Caribbean Sea for the long swim to shore. The water was warm and calm and the swim was
exhilarating lerating. We arrived on shore
and quickly unloaded the dinghy with all our supplies.
We were set for a great night of campfires, marshmallows, stories and a raging BBQ. Rose Island is a deserted island and the local
cruisers are often anchored there. But the boats that were originally anchored that day
had left and it looked like we had the island to ourselves for the night. An old beached boat that was nearby supplied the
firewood, for a raging fire and we all sat and watched as the sun set for the day.
Camping wouldn’t be complete in
the Caribbean without a quick skinny-dip before bed.
A few in the gang proceeded to get naked and go for a swim. The night was so dark that it wouldn’t have
mattered what we had on, we could barely see each other.
Just as the water started to get
cool, we all looked up and saw a flash in the distance, and then another, and then
another. It was a storm and it was headed
right for us!!
Panic set in as everyone quickly
gathered everything that could get damaged by rain. Kris
and James took the dinghy to the Shaker to throw down the second anchor and make sure the
other was well set. As the arrived back it
was obvious that our initial plan of sleeping on the beach, wasn’t going to happen on
this night. Mike and Steve agreed to sleep on
the island in the tent that they had mantled.
The rest of the crew swam back to the Shaker. By this time, the wind had strengthened and the
boat started rocking and rolling. Diane and
Katarina took the smaller front berths, Kris and I in the large v-berth and Nikki and
James agreed to sleep in the cockpit outside.
With doors and windows shut and
curtains drawn, we all sat for a minute and listened to the howling of the wind as the
Shaker mercilessly rocked its crew to sickness. Diane
was the first to admit it and Kat shortly after. Seasickness
pills were handed out and the rest of us tried to keep from thinking about how close we
were to the reefs on either side of us. The rain began with a jolt and then came the
lightening and thunder. It was hard to
believe that it was happening. Could we get
lost at sea?? Could the boat sink?? Could we die??
Well, no. We are in shallow water yes, and we could crash the boat, yes, but
die. Probably not.
The rain made the cockpit unsleepable
for Nikki and James who were already soaked. So
before no time the boat that was supposed to sleep six….really did!!
As the morning came we quickly found out that almost everyone got little sleep. Except of course for Diane, who was still fast
asleep and probably still high from the pills. Kat
was up and holding her arm. The rocking of
the boat made her slam into the side of the berth on a consistent basis throughout the
night. Outside
Nikki and James helped frazzled Steve get all the remaining equipment off the dinghy as
Mike searched the island for what was left of their tent.
As I climbed the stairs I looked around and realized all was well and
everyone safe. The morning was glorious and
everyone pondered the evening’s adventures. The
eggs crackled and the coffee brewed as the
crew exchanged versions of the events.
Another successful trip aboard the Lost Shaker!
Kris' Version of the Rose Island
Storm Adventure
Ah, sweet morning! After a stormy
night on the Shaker Ana and I wake up in the v-berth to a hot, sunny, beautiful Bahamian
day. Apart from waking up a few times during
the violent storm we had a great night’s sleep.
But it would appear that our amigos had a less then pleasant evening. I arise from the v-berth to the deck of the Shaker
to see all kinds of activity unfolding around us. Far
away on the shore of Rose Island I see Captain Mike wandering around inspecting the beach. Surprisingly, the tent and all the gear from the
night before seem to be gone. Then I notice
an agitated Captain Steve with a single paddle furiously rowing the Lost Dingy, full of
gear, towards the Shaker. But he appears to
be going in circle, as he is only rowing on one side of the damnable inflatable vessel. To the other side of the boat, Captain James and
sweet Nikki are snorkeling around the reef, looking for barracuda and stingrays. On board the Shaker, both Diane and Katarina look
awake but severely hung over. I am not sure
if this is the result of the overdose of seasickness pills or having spent their first
night on a sailing vessel in a vicious storm. Perhaps
both.
I can feel the angry eyes of the
others on me. They know I have had a great
night’s sleep. They haven’t. Suddenly, I’m scared. Especially when I notice Captain Steve finally
pulling himself aboard the Shaker with about 150 pounds of camping gear, leftover food,
and sand. What the hell happened last night? Last thing I remember, I had gotten up to check on
the status of the boat, only to find a massive downpour and Nikki and Captain James
crawling back into the Shaker after having their nice open cockpit slumber interrupted. They are both soaked. James looks pissed.
They survey the surroundings to find the only available sleeping space is
the tiny quarter berth, which is mostly stuffed full of gear. The double bed is being occupied by a death-like
body belonging to the seasick Diane. She is
sprawled out corner to corner and there is no way this girl is waking up. The other single bunk is housing Katarina. She is wide awake and being subjected to the
Chinese Water Torture as the Shaker has sprung a leak directly above her. Drip…..drip……drip……drip. She will sleep no more.
In the meantime, Captain Mike has
leaped in the crystal clear water and is dog-paddling back to the Shaker. As he reaches the boat his first words are,
“Let’s get the hell out of here and go to Atlantis for breakfast!”. Hmmmm, I guess my plans for a nice on-board,
sailer’s breakfast will be thwarted.
As it turns out, with the help of a great crew, we are able to clean all the sand off the
gear, clean up the boat, and make a decent pot of coffee and a big breakfast. The crew is feeling better after the adventurous
night and now enjoying a wonderful day at Rose Island!
James' Version of the Rose Island Storm Adventure
Ahoy me hearties. The infamous Rose Island Storm
..... it's been a long time and the picture remains hazy. Almost all of our early trips I
remember - hours of sheer boredom punctuated by intense moments of panic. Of course some
moments were worse that others, and yes there were always some common features - most
notably Captain Steve at the helm and Cabin Waif Nikki at my throat.
The trip to Rose Island, I assume started in the usual drunken
manner characteristic of all our trips. I was interested to hear that Ana Captained our
way out of the harbour - I wasn't aware we had the stabalisers on that day! - only kidding
Ana. I remember the evening - stripping an abandoned vessel of all it's hardwood for our
barbecue (it was an abandoned boat wasn't it?!), skinney dipping in the ocean waves bathed
in light from the glowing algea, plenty of beer and some expert cooking from Captain Steve
and my good self.
The next thing that I remember is near electricution on the back-end
of the Shaker as bolts of lightening fought like gladiators all around the night sky. The
display was awesome. As the storm came over the towering peaks of the Atlantis Hotel,
Nikki and I debated the likelihood of being hit. We closed our eyes wanting sleep, only to
have our eyeballs fried through our eyelids as the laser show really started to develop.
BANG.....PIZAZZ.... I looked over to the beach, the wind starting to kick in and the rain
washing down like stair rods..... I could see ..... I think ..... A tent ..... and .....
TWO WHITE SOCKS sticking out at one end ..... poor Laurel and Hardy - also known as
Captain Mike and Captain Steve. Despite the fact we watched their tent flapping around
like a whores skirt we couldn't help but think 'you bastards!!'. We were by this point
very tired, wet, cold, partially sighted and scared shitless that the boat, going by past
experiences, was moving closer to the shore by the second!
Eventually we ventured inside for the safety of the aft berth, which
does, as we discovered sleep one and leave the other in complete discomfort. Promptly
after this trip, and building on from 'Lost Dingy' we seperated.
The next morning, suprisingly enough, I only remember wanting to
kill every other member of the trip, except Captain Mike who actually looked worse that I
did. Fond memories.
