Anchored in the middle of the Ocean

11-3-90 - Floyd - Serrana Banks

Depression and my depression about the depression petering out on the mosquito coast. Now to decide whether to go with everyone else to Vivario Cays or go around on our own. Feels good today after a good nights sleep, probably another 200 miles I'd be ready for more so...??? what to do. Meanwhile we are anchored under a full moon in 20 ft of water 200 miles from any land, kinda strange feeling.

11-4-90 - Floyd - Passage

Underway for Vivario, who could leave such a nice bunch of boats? Sea flat calm, moonlight and under the stars, perfect except for the thrumming of Sir Perkins. Lots of lobster pots around here!

11-5-90 - Floyd - Passage

2nd night out, yep found a lobster pot, C-Jay warns us of hammerheads and a close call freeing his prop just as I am about to jump over the side into the inky black bottomless depths. So I recheck our situation and find we are snagged over the bobstay and not the prop, good deal! What is not a good deal is Sir Perkins is now blowing out alot of black smoke from being overloaded. The oil pressure drops and I find about 3 qts of deisle in the oil. the final 80 miles to Vivario is a nightmare of pumping out scalding hot oil with the hand pump and replacing it with new. I worry that Sir Perkin's last thrum will come any minute.

Fatigue is getting to me and hallucenating alittle bit, the fleet looks like little candles in the distance but cannot tell how far or how close they are, also passing something in the night with a green light, I don't know what it is and whether it is 10 ft away or 10 miles? In case I run an avoidance course until I'm sure I am clear. do de do de

11-8-90 - Floyd - Vivario Cays

3 gallons of oil from C-Jay, stock of newspapers from Sea Lady and we head out at 0200 in fairly nice wind. By 1000 it is dead but we find Perkins at lo RPM has no problems.

Night falls and the rest of the fleet passes us strung out like a band of xmas lights in the distance, idle chatter fills the VHF waves and then we are alone. Later a large vessel of some kind passes almost over us, too close for comfort.

11-9-90 - Floyd - Guanaja

Wasn't sure we could get in by dark but we slide into the harbor at 2040 but miss the Port Captain. Salva Vida at long last. Guanaja is alot nicer than I remember, lots of sprucing up the place has transpired. Walking by a local store I am startled, "Are you Floyd?" I turn and see a straggly looking character with wire framed glasses, bushy red beard and intense looking eyes, so begins our friendship with Maggie and Charles from Fomalhaut. We have a good evening and would like to stay for awhile but a Norther is coming and Dad is wearing a hole in the Widow's walk, we decide to leave for Roatan in the morning.

Arrival at Lime Cay, Roatan

11-10-90 - Floyd

Fomalhaut decides to go with us, also Timshell. Little stormy last night but this morning sunny and about 15 nots from the NW, the front is supposed to arrive tonight so off we go. After sailing for a few hours lots of rain, black clouds and other nasty things begin arriving over Roatan. Another hour or so all hell breaks loose! The Norther has arrived and we have 15 miles to go. Palantir does well and we follow Fomalhaut thru the pass in the reef, we have arrived but not how I pictured it. Somehow I thought we would arrive on the most perfect day of the year, but it is blowing like stink and raining like pee but we along with TImshell and Francis, Maggie and Charles enjoy some Suzy cookin and a special bottle of champane. A voyage well done! When we call it a night Palantir is still where we left her, that's real good.

11-30-90 - Floyd -

Lime Cay Life here in Lime Cay is like fitting into a well worn good fitting boot. Palantir is snuggled up to the dock and is happy and we sleep good knowing the anchor won't drag. I might be needing some new clothes with all the good cookin, it is unbelievable, with Suzy Maggie and Jan brewing up the vittles. Haven't really been doin much except enjoying ourselves, Dad's Parrot managery sounds like an insane asylum, but even Guava is behaving herself in her cage at least. Most of the boats are heading into French Harbor never to be seen again, land of cable TV washing machines, much better out here. The weather comes and goes but normal I guess for this time of year. Maggie and Charles keep threating to leave for the states but finally decide to stay another season, we are glad we do seem to hit it off with them, they are both totally and unequivicably mad.

That documents our arrival at my Dad's in Roatan Honduras. Many more adventures and misadventures are to come. Some good, some bad, but I wouldn't trade any of it.