Monday, December 29. We left Cape Eleuthera marina, having fueled up and watered up; our destination was Little San Salvador (aka Half Moon Cay). The winds were blowing harder than forecast and from a more southerly direction which made the first 4 miles of the trip fine, but after that we were heading almost directly into the wind. We tacked back and forth for a couple of hours but soon decided that with squalls on the horizon we should postpone our trip until tomorrow so we headed for Davis Harbor, the only decent anchorage along the south-western shore of Eleuthera.
We enjoyed the sail and the practice of tacking but around 1pm decided to motor-sail the final 4 miles to our destination. Kathi had been fishing, Kiwi was below in her typical hidy-hole that she uses when the engines get turned on. As we are nearing the breaks between deep water (3000 feet) and the shallow banks (30 feet) the fishing rod starts to sing. Kathi grabs the rod, I throttle the engine back and Kathi lands a 3-4 foot barracuda. Not what we were hoping for since we won’t eat it but still fun to catch. Kiwi hears the commotion topside and comes up to see what’s happening. Kathi releases the barracuda and we get motoring back on our track.
By this time, we are about a mile offshore and coral heads are prevalent in the area. I tell Kathi to take watch on the bow so that she can see any shallow coral heads that we might need to avoid. I toss Kiwi back downstairs so she is out of our way but she runs back up and follows Kathi out of the cockpit. She then jumps up on the dodger and back on top of the bimini. I’m too busy trying to steer the boat, watching depths to think more than “If you go overboard, cat, you deserve it.”
About 10 minutes later, we are on a good course to make it into the anchorage. I tell Kathi to take the helm so I can get set up for anchoring. I tell her to watch out for Kiwi, she’s on top of the bimini. I take a quick look for Kiwi and see that she is no longer there, and I didn’t see her jump down. Immediate panic sets in as we know she has gone overboard. Kathi takes a quick look downstairs to make sure she didn’t go below and I turn the boat 360 degrees to start a search along our track. The odds of seeing a 4 inch round head in the water with 2-3 foot swells is like looking for a needle in a haystack. We search for about 40 minutes then decide that it is a lost cause and we need to get the boat to the anchorage before the threatening squalls hit us. After we get anchored, we put the dinghy down, go back out to search again because we can’t just give up. After another 30 minutes of searching, with rain starting to fall, we head back to the boat, our hearts heavy, and guilt and sorrow setting in.
We talk about the good things we shared with Kiwi and feel bad that she met a sad ending. John lays down to deal with his sorrow. He’s seen before when she’d gone into the water the look of terror on her face just before being rescued. He can’t get that thought out of his head. Kathi goes into the cockpit to read and forget her sorrow. Kathi suggests we play a game so we play an entire tournament of cribbage. Neither of us felt like cooking, so we just heated up some leftovers. Around 6pm, about 5 hours after Kiwi “went overboard” we hear the tinkle of the bell around her collar. Of course we both heard Indi’s bell for over a month after she passed so Kathi yells, “John, John,” and I rush on deck to see Kiwi sitting on top of the Bimini. Kathi asks me if she is seeing things or had she had too much to drink or was Kiwi really just sitting on top of the bimini. You can’t believe the hugs we tried to give the little sh*t. Apparently, she had climbed into the boom, which is essentially a hollow tube, and had finally decided to rise from her nap. We are thrilled to have her back. Unfortunately, we wonder if the inevitable was just pushed back because she is fearless and reckless. Two traits not so good for a boat cat. We just have to wonder what new trials and tribulations she has in store for us. Certainly a night of emotional roller coasters.
Tuesday, December 30: With a full compliment of crew, we motor-sailed to Little San Salvador, aka Half Moon Cay. The Cay was renamed after Holland America Cruise Line bought the Island to use as a destination. A cruise ship was in the anchorage so we took an alternate anchorage and then went for a snorkel. We knew the big ship would be leaving this afternoon and we could then move to the more protected spot. We drifted over the reef towing the dinghy as the reef went from 6 feet to 60 feet of depth. As we got to the deeper water we spotted a couple of sharks, tuna, amberjack and grouper cruising along. The clarity and color of the water is amazing! The shallower water is bright turquoise while the deep water, which goes to over a 1000 feet deep less than a mile offshore is cobalt blue.