A Seafarer’s Awakening – Bimini to Chub Cay

May 28

April 4

Leaving Bimini, we were headed 85 NM due east to Chub Cay in The Berries. Places to fuel are sparse across the Bahamas and Chub Cay Resort and Marina was the next stop for us.

I had consulted with the local captains about our passage east and decided to follow their opinion to head south then east; the alternative was north and east around Bimini. The wind and waves were from the southwest and my original thought was to minimize that fetch impact by heading south, slipping onto the Great Bahama Bank, and then travelling in the lee of the barrier cays and eventually Andros Island. This route would take us south of the Mackie Shoal to the North West Channel and its narrow, 500 m wide pass into the Tongue of the Ocean, with a final run of 25NM to Chub Cay. What the captains didn’t explain well is that rough waters (those south winds over 24 hours) plus shoaling on the southern route would force me, with no local knowledge and experience, to stay outside of the barrier cays for 5 NM fighting the wind and its 6-8’ high waves. The turn east put the big waves on my starboard quarter while I negotiated the narrow 300 m pass between rocky reefs onto the 10’ shallows of the Great Bahama Bank; and just for fun, we faced a bow-on current in the pass that slowed WW from 15 to 9 knots at 3,200 rpm. We made it through using the wreck of the S.S. Sapona as our navigation aid, but then had to turn SE for 8NM to avoid the shoaling and keep 7-10’ of water below us. The good news was that the wind was a ‘moderate breeze’ at 10-15 knots and the waves subsided to 3’ in the lee of the barrier cays. Fortunately, I hadn’t yet realized we were in the area of the Bermuda Triangle where 6 US Air Force planes were mysteriously lost over a few days.

Eventually, we turned east and headed to the North West Channel. The wind and waves subsided to a ‘gentle breeze’, which allowed us to stop for a swim. However, I sensed a change in the wind direction as it veered to the SE. The waves picked up as we approached the narrow pass into the Tongue of the Ocean where we joined a string of boats heading east and west on this necessary route. Before our turn onto the planned heading, Brian plotted a second course that would take us to Great Harbour, 25 NM to the NE, just in case we were unable to make the planned pass; it was clear that the new SE wind blew directly into the pass from a fetch of 250 km or so. I made the decision to enter the pass because the waves were 4-5’ on our bow and manageable; however, local knowledge would have made me realize that these waves would quickly grow to 6-8’ with no option to turn 180o and escape back out of the pass. That was a very bouncy time for WW. It was 14 NM to Chub Cay’s safe harbour, the first 5 NM were a scary introduction to the real Atlantic Ocean over 1,000 m of water, but the waves did subside to a meager 5-6’ and the wind sustained itself at 10-15 knots. It appeared that we were going to be okay.

And then the alarms started. The engine has two fuel filters with a key function of removing water from the fuel. A boat’s diesel fuel system can accumulate water through several processes, but that wasn’t my concern at this moment in time. WW’s Volvo-Penta engine has a sensor on the water/fuel separator and when water levels rise in the filter’s collection cup, an alarm sounds with a warning displayed on its computer screen - “Water in Fuel”. The alarm triggers the engine’s computer to throttle-back power to 2,200 rpm, i.e., WW dropped speed from 14 to 8 knots. The next action requires the captain to turn off the engine, open the engine room, and enter to drain the water from the filter, which requires the captain to lie flat on a scorching hot engine with his head down, wedged into a narrow opening. What the design engineers forgot to compute was how the captain would complete that task in 6’ waves and not be injured or sink the boat. We had no option but to acknowledge the alarm on the computer and ride out the throttle-back period.

The reduced speed lasted for about 2 NM. WW came back to life, and I eased her up to 10 knots hoping to get us into harbour as quickly as possible. Then came “Water in Fuel” alarm #2 and a repeat of the throttle-back period. We survived and got back up to 10 knots when the third alarm sounded flashing “Check Engine” and nothing more. Moving quickly to the cockpit I could see there was blue smoke being exhausted. A slight opening of the engine hatch relieved us of our greatest fear, fire onboard. Brian had one of the two fire extinguishers at the ready. The blue smoke abated (I would learn latter it was that water in the fuel being burned off) and we continued our slow limp onward. We could see Chub Cay and there were other boats around because a fishing tournament was underway, and this gave us optimism we would be safe.

We turned into the marina’s marked channel towards the entrance still limping along. It was about 4PM, the tournament fishers were returning, and four big, 75 to 100’ boats were closing fast on our stern. They were clearly being forced to slow down, and with some agitation – more on that later. Then just outside the narrow entrance to the harbour the engine decided she was done for the day. I quickly radioed a mayday call to keep us from getting run over, threw WW hard to port being carried by momentum, and dropped the anchor where I hoped we would be out the channel (<100 m behind us) and off the rocky shoreline 100 m in front of us. The waters were bouncy with waves being amplified by shallow water (<6’ deep) and big boat wakes. I heard nothing back on my mayday call and no boat slowed to either check we were okay or perhaps reduce their wake which rocked us heavily. It was late in the day, so we settled in for a night at anchor with a plan to dinghy into the marina tomorrow and sort out the next steps.

There is more of this seafaring tale to come, stay tuned.

Allen

Chub Cay, The Bahamas