Oborea is in her element, anchored off a sandy beach in the smooth limpid water of a lagoon. Her awning is up and a couple of hands of bananas are ripening in the rigging. The muted roar of the surf crashing on the other side of the island is carried on the warm trade wind. This is what Oborea was designed and built for. This is Stocking Island, Exuma... Milliwaves got away, heading for civilization, on the fourth. We stayed two weeks, sailing in company with Windchime. My crew had left at the end of May but Windchime always had guests aboard so if I wanted to make it easy on myself I could always borrow crew. I am used to single handing Oborea though, and the Autohelm is like another crew. We left on the tenth of April, sailing over the deep waters of Exuma sound in light east winds with all our kites flying, passing Cirrus II still heading south. Next day we continued north west on the bank side, navigating through intricate three foot channels in the sand banks to Little Farmers Cay. Here we spent three days as a "norther" blew through. The front brought fine sailing winds but right on the nose. At the Ocean Cabin, the only bar on the island, we met ex TMCC members Hans and Lou Van Rijn. They are now living at Tavernier in the Florida Keys, but Hans was over to install a new generator on Little Darby Cay. The trip over takes only eighteen hours in their twenty two foot power boat. When the wind finally veered to the north east we sailed on to Normans Cay where we filled our tanks with sweet rain water from the cistern at the abandoned club house; a welcome change from the brackish drinking water available in George Town. The forty miles on to Nassau was accomplished in a flat calm with the motor and the Autohelm doing all the work. I lay on the forward platform watching the starfish, seaweed, coral and brightly coloured fish ten feet below the almost invisible surface. Nassau was the expected mix of the pleasant and the unpleasant, although she did welcome me with a fish that jumped on my trolling line just as I was reeling it in at the harbour entrance; a fine little bar jack which, with home fries and eggs, made an excellent breakfast the next morning. We anchored at the west end of the harbour off the public beach. The tidal currents are less here and the holding is better than in other parts of the harbour, but we were bothered with the wakes of water skiers. There is always lots to see in Nassau harbour, from the great cruise ships which passed close ahead of us, to inter island freighters, to flying boats taking off and landing. On the beach side we could watch the tourists change from white to florescent pink and one morning we watched two men bring horses down to the sea for a swim. In Nassau I bought a new hurricane lantern to replace my old one that had served as a riding light on Huaheine before Oborea, and which had finally rusted into a state where it would no longer hold oil. It was given a decent burial at sea. Windchime was delayed in Nassau waiting for propane. Although propane is available in many places in the Bahamas, it is not necessarily easily available. Windchime had run out in George Town, but the man there who dispenses the stuff was away and no one else knew when he would be back or how to work the machinery. At Nassau they finally got their tanks filled but it took four days. Our next stop was the Berry Islands. I had never been there before so I left to do some exploring with a rendezvous with Windchime arranged for a few days ahead. The Berrys were a delight. The chain is about forty miles long. There is a marina and sport fishing centre at Chubb Cay at the south west end, and Great Harbour Cay at the northern end is quite developed with condominiums and big vacation homes, but in between are uninhabited islands with sunny anchorages that are as pretty as I have seen anywhere in the Bahamas. Fish and coconuts are plentiful so one need never starve here. The islands are also rich in bird life which is unusual for the Bahamas. I saw nesting colonies of terns and noddies as well as gulls, herons, egrets, pelicans, grackles, blackbirds, mockingbirds and brightly coloured warblers. I worked slowly north through the islands heading for Great Stirrup Cay where the chart marks the tomb of Commander Bertram of the Royal Navy who charted these islands over one hundred and fifty years ago. I wanted to see the cove where Bertram died so far from home, and where he was buried on this palm fringed foreign shore. Was I in for a shock… The huge cruise ship Norway was anchored a half mile off shore and two fair sized landing craft were ferrying passengers to shore. The sandy beach was invisible behind row on row of beach umbrellas, while the water of the cove was divided by rows of floats separating swimming areas, paddle boat areas etc. Above the beach line was a snack bar, dive shop and straw market. I was unable to enter the cove because of the floats and had to anchor off in open water. It was flat calm or I would have had to leave for the other side of the island. At sunset the Norway steamed away with her passengers, leaving the shore staff to pack up the umbrellas and wait for the next ship. I decided Commander Bertram had been disturbed enough and did not go ashore. I left first thing in the morning, passing a US nuclear submarine steaming on the surface, presumably heading for the AUTEC base on Andros. Two days later I met with Windchime at Alder Cay and we spent a couple of idyllic days there swimming, fishing and sailing their dinghy. A bit of Berry Islands gossip; only the names are changed to protect the writer. A French Canadian couple, Jacques and Micheline, are anchored near us and are invited over for drinks; Micheline speaks very little English:.     "How does your wife like the cruising life Jacques?"     "She hates it. That's why I bring Micheline" Friday the twenty ninth of April we left late in the afternoon for my first crossing of the Great Bahama Bank, I borrowed Ann from Windchime as crew.. From Chubb Cay it is fifteen miles to the North West Channel light where you cross onto the shallow waters of the bank, and from there it is another sixty miles across the bank to Gun Cay with one marker, Russel Beacon, at about the twenty mile mark. Tidal currents on the bank are very unpredictable and can set you ten miles north or south during the crossing. By four in the afternoon the south east wind became very light and it was very hot. I dropped a hundred feet of line over the stern and we jumped in and were towed along as Oborea ghosted along at half a knot under spinnaker with no one aboard. After our swim we gave up on the wind and started the motor, passing the North West Channel marker at seven thirty. By nine thirty there was a light wind on the port quarter, and with everything up we sailed at three or four knots in silence that was a blessed relief after the noise of the motor. The wind continued all the moonlit night until about dawn when it increased a bit and a heavy rain squall passed over. We had a discussion with Windchime over the radio and decided that as the forecast was good, we would push right on over the forty five miles of Gulf Stream to Miami. I dropped everything but the main to allow Windchime to get ahead and lead us through the channel between Gun and Cat Cays and at eight thirty on the thirtieth we went through. The crossing was one of the most enjoyable sails I have ever had. Swells five or six feet high were coming in from some old Atlantic storm to the north, while shorter waves being whipped up by the present wind were hitting us from the south east. The motion was highly unpredictable, but we were being driven through it at a steady seven or eight knots. The Autohelm was getting a real workout with seas coming at us from both quarters so I dropped the mizzen to help it a bit—we did not loose a knot. The brilliant sunshine caused the flying spray to sparkle like diamonds while around the horizon great cumulus clouds would build into towering mountains with rain squalls beneath them. We even saw a couple of water spouts. We carried the wind, and our speed which had increased to ten to twelve knots as the wind came more on the beam, right into Government Cut (Miami harbour). Arriving in Miami on a Saturday afternoon was a mistake. It took us over two hours, at a dock exposed to wakes from the harbour and the Intracoastal Waterway, to clear customs. Finally though we were clear and we headed north through one fixed bridge and three draw bridges to anchor off Treasure Island where our friends with hot showers and running water and washing machines live.

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