We did it.  We took down our yurt and it is gone.  After a few weeks of moving and sorting all our stuff into piles destined to either go into storage, trash, give-away or sell, we spent 3 full, hot days taking down the yurt, dismantling the deck platform, and putting everything into a big moving truck.  The buyers of our yurt came over from Massachusetts and put in their own sweat equity helping to make the take-down happen.  We had a great time with them, and it all went as smoothly as it could go.  The sale of our yurt included most of our furniture and many other possessions that “went with the yurt”, and it was a bizarre feeling to see your entire house and belongings put into a truck and taken away by someone else.  But Patrick and Katie were as awesome as awesome can be, and we felt good about sending them off with such a good start to their own off-grid living experience.  Here are a few shots of the last few intense days. If you have ever wondered how a yurt is taken down, here is a glimpse. It is really quite amazing to take a whole building down in a matter of hours!

We feel grateful that this process has been going so well, even though the circumstances have been stressful. Our time with Patrick and Katie was wonderful, and we have 2 new good friends now! And it didn’t even rain, although it was really, really hot!

We are now in the final stretch of getting everything off the land. We are now in the process of selling our cars and other major possessions. The stuff is clearing and it feels good. We are looking forward to getting back on the water and are looking at larger boats……what will the next step of our adventure look like? Right now we can just focus on what it in front of us, which at the moment is the last pile of crap to get rid of!

We received a lot of feedback from our last post.  Most of it was well intentioned and appreciated, but some was blatantly insulting, profane, superior, and judgmental.  Apparently our decisions, way of life, and story are quite an affront!

We have decided not to print those comments because they are far from respectful and considerate.  It’s not that we wouldn’t post a negative comment, but we will not post comments that attack, insult, and slander us.  Our blog is our story as we see fit to write it and not a public forum.

These people espouse the point of view that unless we have careers or doctorates we are not “grown up,” and that we do not “have a life.”  They have said that we are hypocrites, that we have never worked a day in our life, that we just use people, and that we are deluded, slanderous, and frauds.  While we could defend ourselves against these attacks point by point, we aren’t going to allow our blog to be hijacked in that way.

If you don’t like our story, then too bad! It’s our life, and we have to live with our decisions, just like everyone else in the world.  You don’t have to like us or approve of us, and we don’t really care if you do or not.  This is our blog, our story, and our opinions and thoughts.  If you don’t like them then don’t read them.

So thanks to everyone who posted a decent comment and actually had manners!  We reflected on everything and had much to think about.  Now, we are actively in process moving the yurt and selling and storing our things.  We have just one month to get everything off the land, and we are looking forward to completing this massive undertaking and turning the page into the next chapter of our story.

Here we are back on land. While many of you may be following our blog to hear of our magnificent adventures, and that has been our main purpose in writing, we decided we would also like to share with you our struggles and some of the super crappy stuff we also get to deal with. Like our current situation.

Last summer, before we launched on our big sailing adventure, we got mixed reactions from family and friends about our decision to drop everything and sail away. While most people were enthusiastic and even envious, we also were scolded by some for being “irresponsible”, and some people were concerned with our sanity and safety since at the time of our departure we barely knew how to sail. These were all normal reactions that we mostly expected. One reaction we did not expect, however. When one family member found out about our plans things changed drastically. We suddenly were no longer allowed to keep our yurt and belongings on her property (where it has been for the last four years with the understanding that it and we could stay there indefinitely). We had our wedding here, and it has been a safe and beautiful refuge for us for a long time. In fact, part of the reason we even decided that we could go on this trip at all is because we were able to keep our yurt and belongings somewhere and have them to return to when we got back. Our trip was viewed as abusing our privilege of being able to use the land. In hindsight if we had given her lots of money before we left, we probably wouldn’t have been kicked off, but honestly who knows. There of course were other complex factors at hand, but this is the simplest explanation.

The cost of our trip in U.S. dollars is one thing, but the loss of family land and a family relationship is incalculable. The price of our trip turns out to be much higher than ever expected.

So now we are coming back to a very difficult situation. The disappointment and shock of this loss is beyond words, and the complication and magnitude of moving not only our stuff but also several buildings is daunting.

The two main options we have at this point are to sell the yurt and most of the rest of our belongings and reinvest in a bigger boat to continue living on and cruising with, or to move the yurt and our stuff to another piece of land in Massachusetts where we have the option of living, or at least storing our yurt until we decide we want to live in it again. We are torn. Our re-entry to land has been rough and everything feels too complicated and busy compared to our life on the water. We are missing the water enormously and it just feels “wrong” to be away from the sea. We feel a bit like fish out of water here now. Even though we love our friends in New England and it is a charming, lovely place to be; now it feels extremely land locked for us salty sailors.

One thing that we have learned and are experiencing acutely right now, is that every decision is a compromise. We kept hearing people say that about boats, for example the decision to have a boat with a shallow draft has advantages but it is also a compromise in other ways, like losing performance when beating to windward. Our decision to go sailing this past year has brought us priceless experiences, and yet there is also a price to be paid for our decision. And so it goes.

– Capt’n K & Lala

Whew! We did it! In a frenzy of packing, sorting, and anchoring, we got Wee Happy all set to sit and wait for us in Boot Key Harbor while we go back to New England for a few months.

To get Wee Happy ready to weather any storms (it is technically hurricane season now) that might roll through while we are gone, we took everything off deck: the sails, the boom, the dodger, the bimini, etc. Stripped her down and now she looks bare naked. Captain K then divised a three anchor mooring system that involved investing in a few new big anchors and some more chain, and we spent the better part of an entire afternoon getting the anchors all set, with several hours spent talking to the various boat neighbors who stopped by to consult with us on the subject. Captain K had to dive down on the anchors to make sure they were set properly and the visibility in mucky Boot Key Harbor was about 1 foot, which means he about hit the anchor with his face before he could even see it! YUCK!

On one of our last days there we finally saw our first manatee in Florida! it was right by the dinghy dock, and was so friendly we could pet it. They are super weird looking.

We pulled out of Marathon yesterday in our spiffy rental car filled with stuff we are taking back, including our two cats. Our cats are SO good about travelling, and we are so proud of them. No meowing or whining, they just sit quietly and cuddle. It will probably be even weirder for them than us to be back on land, as they havent been off the boat in 8 months, except for Mojo, who was lost for 2 weeks back in October.

So we are getting our land legs back, and are currently speeding down Interstate 95, covering more miles in just a few hours of car travel than we could do in days of travel in Wee Happy. It’s mind blowing to be going this fast after so many months of slow travel.

We decided to drive straight through, and just make it back in 30 hours. Somehow we made it through the night, and our big stop has been to have breakfast “South of the Border”, which is an uber cheesy, gigantic tourist trap complex that is the size of a small town. It is in South Carolina just south of the border of North Carolina. This place rivals Wall Drug in its use of thousands of stupid billboards for at least 100 miles before the exit, and by the time we finally reached the stupid place, we just had to stop and check it out.

Also known as Pedroland, it features a hilarious number of concrete statues of Mexicans wearing ridiculously large sombreros, among other things. We had a terrible but cheap breakfast and went on our way. I would have taken better photos but my camera seems to be unhappy being away from the marine environment and is on the fritz again.

So far everything looks the same as anywhere else in America along the interstate with the chain stores, but it is shockingly green and lush here in the Carolinas. Wish we had tome to stop and enjoy it a bit but we have work and stuff we have to get back to up north.

Stay tuned, however, as the adventure is far from over.

– Capt’n K & Lala

We are sailing our way down to Marathon in the final leg of this portion of Wee Happy’s journey. In fact today is probably our last day of sailing her for awhile. We have had perfect sailing weather too, what a blessing. East-northeast winds at around 15 knots has made for some awesome days of broad reaching. We have been cruising down Hawk Channel, which is wonderfully free of crab pots this time of year. We are about the only boat out on the water, too, except for the Customs and Border Patrol boat that stopped us yesterday to make sure we had cleared in with Customs when we returned from the Bahamas. (I guess somebody IS watching! good thing we went to all that trouble to check in!)
There aren’t too many anchorages along this part of the Keys that dont require long detours over to the Gulf side, and last night we ended up anchoring near John Pennecamp state park in the mangroves, where the mosquitoes came out at night to devour us. It was a long bloody battle in the cabin of Wee Happy last night. We got up at first light and enjoyed a spectacular sunrise as we were setting out for the day.

And so here we are, sailing along towards Marathon, where we will arrive this afternoon, just in time for a happy hour drink with our friends who are waiting for us there.
I am having a lot of mixed feelings about the end of our trip. I know that the journey continues always and other adventures await. We have been so blessed with a wonderful cruise! We have learned so much and grown so much by traveling this way together, and it will be interesting to see how this experience continues to work its changes in us as we move back to land, if only temporarily. We both would like to keep cruising, and we have both fallen in love with the “salt life”. Indeed, we have actually become salty sailors now. Before, I only superficially understood what it meant to be “salty”. Now I am starting to understand. This may sound strange, but I actually feel that the experience of literally being covered in salt for weeks on end has transformed us inside and outside. And I like how it feels. Aside from our back and neck pain from being cramped in this uncomfortably small boat, both of us have noticed that we feel better than ever since we have been living on the sea. Captain K’s chronic sinus problems have vanished, and some mysterious vague health issues I had been having are also gone. It will be interesting to see if or how quickly they return back in New England. The thought of living away from the salt air and the blue horizon makes me want to cry, and I know I am going to miss this as soon as we leave.
Not that we are leaving this forever. Although our plans are still very unknown and we have a remarkable number of unanswered questions about what exactly comes next for us, we have decided that we want to continue cruising. Whether we will do it in Wee Happy or another boat, and whether we will be able to pull it off soon or in a year or two is undecided, but neither of us can really imagine just going back to land and living a so-called normal life.
A “normal” life does sound pretty good, too. After 8 months of living in a space the size of some people’s walk in closet, it will be a delight to do some “normal” things. Like cook in a kitchen that is bigger than 2 square feet, and not rocking from side to side. It will be great to have clothes hanging in a closet, and a real bathroom with a mirror bigger than 4 inches.
We are particularly looking forward to the huge king sized bed we have in New England. Aaahhh, the simple things…..
I have been writing some lengthy posts lately, so I better let you all get back to work.
Until later,
– Capt’n K & Lala

P.S. this is what our cat Mojo has been up to lately:

When we first got in to Fort Lauderdale I was horrified because it was such a mob of powerboating partyers, but now that things have calmed down a bit, we have had a little space to look around and enjoy what this area of Fort Lauderdale has to offer. It’s great for gawking. There is a lot to gawk at.
Gorgeous mansions, each more beautiful than the next, and many in an elegant Italian style architecture, line the waterways, which are set up a little like the canals of Venice. It’s a huge network of man-made canals created so that all these rich people could have waterfront property. It’s really quite lovely. There are also a lot of marinas that specialize in dockage and storage of the most mega of megayachts. Here is a yacht so big we could not even fit it all in our camera viewfinder:

There is a staggering amount of wealth here, and in comparison our wee sailboat is like living in a cardboard shack, but hey, we’re happy! And hey, we’re still on the water — all the hundreds of powerboats that crowded the anchorage over the weekend all left on Sunday night and the only boats left in the anchorage are sailboats! Yay, sailboats! Time and time again we are impressed with the difference between sailors and motorboaters. While there are certainly exceptions to this generalization I’m about to make, we have found motorboaters to be much less friendly and helpful, and our main interaction with them has been them zooming by us at high speeds. Today we had a great example of how sailors reach out to one another to help out: we were cruising around in our dinghy looking for a place to park it so we could go ashore. One of the major drawbacks of this beautiful canal system is that 99.9% of it is totally private and there is no access for people like us to tie up our boat anywhere. We were poking around a marina to see if we might tie up our dinghy to one of the docks there, and a guy came over to us and said that the management would probably come right out and kick us off the dock, so we shouldn’t tie up there. Then he offered for us to tie our dinghy near his sailboat, which was docked at a slip in the marina. He said we could be his guests. Notice he was a sailor, and he recognized us (maybe by our salt?) as other sailors. Big yacht owners would not even look at us, let alone offer unsolicited to help us out.

We met a nice guy in the Bahamas on a wee boat like ours named Patrick, and it turns out he is in the same anchorage as us here as well! So we hung out with him yesterday and strolled along the beach in Fort Lauderdale, which was absolutely throbbing with all kinds of people parading around. It was quite a scene.
Patrick has a witty name for his boat: Thistle Dew. If you say it out loud, you hear the pun. Lots of sailors are punny, and we have seen some of the most creative sailboat names….ones like Assisted Living (a retired couple), C[esc], (a computer guy who escaped on his sailboat), and my personal favorite: Sail a vie. As long as I’m bashing motorboaters, here are some of the stupid names we have seen on powerboats: Me Too!, (that is just stupid!) Who Cares?, Revenge, Destroyer, etc.

We are ready to get outta here, and we have decided that we are bringing Wee Happy back to Marathon to store her on anchor in Boot Key Harbor for a few months while we go back and deal with some things in New England. We have friends there who are going to keep an eye on her, and that is the cheapest option we have found.
We have strong east winds forcasted all week that will allow us to fly down there pretty quickly, and we are hoping to make it there in 2 or 3 days.

One of the things I appreciated about being in the Bahamas was the lack of commercialism. I didnt feel bombarded at every turn to buy, buy, buy. (with the major exception of the tourist straw market mentioned in an earlier post). We weren’t assaulted by advertising day and night. Granted, we mostly spent our time in very remote places that didn’t even have roads, let alone stores or billboards. But even when we went out shopping, I found a refreshing simplicity in the minimal offerings the stores had. Need peanut butter? One of the major grocery stores even in Nassau, the capital city, had two choices. Big or small. How easy! In the States I would have been standing there for 10 minutes trying to choose one out of 100 choices, and I by the time I finished shopping I would have left feeling overwhelmed, a feeling that is common for me in the States. In the Bahamas, if we actually found what we were looking for, we felt like it was our lucky day. In yet another way, less can sometimes be more.
Sometimes I think that the idea of having many choices equals a freedom of sorts, and perhaps in some ways it does. However I find too many choices can be paralyzing and numbing, especially when it comes to meaningless consumer goods.
The stores in the Bahamas featured only the basics, very few choices, and very high prices. But I dont think the Bahamians were totally miserable because of this….they seemed to me simply happy in a way that seems rare in America. And they just don’t buy a lot of stuff!

I did make a very funny discovery in a store in the Bahamas on our last day there. I had been looking for a pair of flip flops for the whole time I was in the Bahamas and surprisingly never saw any. But in the general store in Andros I saw a sign that said “Sale — winter mittens and hats”, along with a box on the shelf that said “mittens”. I couldn’t imagine that they were actually selling mittens when they didn’t even have flip flops! I asked the sales clerk about it and she said “We bake all year long, and when it does get cold, it feels REALLY cold and we all cover up”. I still couldn’t believe it. “Come on, really?! how cold does it get?!”. “Oh, it gets COLD!”. “How cold??”. “50 degrees – freezing cold!”

One of our favorite shopping experiences in the Bahamas was buying bread in Staniel Cay. We hadn’t seen any sign of fresh bread for weeks. (or fresh FOOD, for that matter, aside from the fish Captain K was catching). We were craving it. One morning on the VHF radio we heard an unusual thing, an announcement that there was fresh bread today at the “yellow house” in Staniel Cay. We were still a few days away from Staniel Cay and we started salivating already at the thought of fresh bread. When we got to Staniel Cay we asked where the yellow house was and were told it was just off the main road up the hill. “You can’t miss it.”. We thought the directions sounded a bit vague, but we went down the main road, found a hill, turned up it, and lo and behold there was the absolute brightest yellow house we have ever seen! It almost hurt our eyes, it was so bright. We couldn’t miss it! A large Bahamaian woman came out and we told her we were there to buy bread. She told us to come in and we stepped in to her kitchen, which was just a regular kitchen like you would find in any small house. The entire kitchen table was covered on loaves of fresh bread. The two varieties available that day were coconut and cinnamon raisin. Easy!
We’ll take one of each!

Paring life down to the bare necessities, the simplest things become so gratifying. Our one big splurge and indulgence while in the Bahamas was ice. Yes, ice cubes. what a truly wonderful invention! We never knew ice could be so good. We don’t have a refrigerator on board, so the only way to have anything cold was to buy ice. We spent ridiculous amounts of money on ice. We justified it by not buying drinks in bars, which was also very expensive. For example, at Normans Cay we spent a record $10 on a bag of ice at the one and only bar in a 30 mile radius. We were tempted to sit and have a drink at the bar, but it would have been about $10 for one drink, so we took our bag of precious ice back to Wee Happy and enjoyed our own cold drinks there. On the days we had ice, we felt we were living large!

Captain K takes in the chaos of the straw market in Nassau

the rich and poor are side by side enjoying the same beautiful waters in the Bahamas

– Capt’n K & Lala

After laying awake most of the night being rolled like crazy, we finally got up at 3:00 am and got underway. We figured if we were going to get rolled like that we might as well be moving. Moving didnt stop the rolling as much as we had hoped, but hey, we were getting closer to a nice calm anchorage on the other side where we could sleep. In the darkness of the waning moon, we could see the Milky Way so brightly it actually illuminated the sea. Millions of stars twinkled above, and below, on the water, bursts of bioluminesence sparkled in our wake. A magical departure, even if the rolling was maddening.
For the first few hours we had such a faint puff of wind we could not keep a sail full and had to motor. The seas were calm. By mid morning the wind started picking up and we eventually were able to raise both sails, turn off the motor, and fly along on a broad reach. As the wind picked up from the east-northeast, the seas soon followed suit. Soon we were in 6 foot whitecapping waves and flying along at 7 knots! That is almost an unheard of speed for us! Wee Happy shook her freshly scrubbed ass, bouncing and boogeying her way briskly across the Gulf Stream. There was no standing, cooking, weaving, or other actitivites done on board today, we were just hanging on for a wild ride! We made amazing time and pulled into the Fort Lauderdale/Port Everglades inlet around 1:30. The waves were steadily increasing and by the time we approached the inlet they were huge. But the biggest waves were from the wakes of the dozens of powerboats speeding recklessly in and out of the inlet on all sides of us, completely oblivious of the effect their huge wakes have on our wee sailboat. At one point I feared we would either capsize, or be sent onto the rocks on shore, but Wee Happy managed to hold her ground and weathered it well. Captain K commented that the longer he sails this Albin Vega, the more confidence he has in her sailing ability. She may be too small to live aboard, but she sure sails beautifully! Past the giant criuse ships we went, and down a section of the ICW. Everbody and their dog was out for a joy ride on Memorial Day weekend. Major motorboat traffic clogged the waterway. We had not realized what a circus Fort Luaderdale would be on a holiday weekend. The closest anchorage was a few miles down in a strange “lake” surrounded by megamansions. (and I mean MEGA mansions, with MEGAyachts parked in front of them. This is the flamboyantly wealthy part of Florda). There are about 100 powerboats anchored here partying. We were dead tired and salty and just wanted to sleep, but instead we got boats doing donuts around us at top speeds towing intertubes full of screaming children. The water is a brownish green color, and the visibility is zero. While we were dropping our anchor I actually saw a turd, and not from a dog, floating in the water. All around us people were swimming. Even though we were crazy hot we opted out of swimming here. Like I said, the Bahamas spoiled us.

Next we were supposed to check in with U.S. customs. We had been told to call an 800 number when we arrived at our anchorage, and that customs official took all of our information over the phone and told us we had to show up in person to the Port Everglades customs office. This is the place all vessels arriving from a foreign port are supposed to check in, so we figured it was on the water, or near the water, and that we could access it easily by boat. After all, ALL the people going to that office are on boats and obviously not in cars. We asked the customs official how to get there by boat and were told we couldnt arrive by boat……ok……they are located near the cruise ship dock, where we were not allowed to go. We got the address and with some difficulty found a place to land our dinghy within a mile or two of the place. We walked for a ways along a very unpedestrian highway until we reached a security gate for the cruise ship docks. The security official turned us away, saying that we couldnt walk to the customs office but that we had to take a cab. Ok……we walked back to the big intersection and managed to get a cab. The cab driver took us through the same security gate and the same official let us through. WTF?!? I guess it is a good thing that we got a cab, though, because it turned out to be really far down a weird no-mans land industrial road that would have sucked to walk down. The customs office intself turned out to be in a office type building that had NO SIGN whatsoever on the outside of it stating that it was the U.S. Customs office. There is no way we would have found it if it hadnt been for that cab driver. Once inside the customs office, it didnt take long for the official to stamp our passports, and then we had to get another cab back to our dinghy, which was miles away. We asked the official to call a cab for us, and he acted shocked that we hadnt driven our own car there, even though we clearly had just arrived there to declare entry for our sailing vessel! I was appalled and furious that they would make it so difficult. When you arrive in an airport they dont expect you to figure out on your own how to get a boat to the customs office! Anyway, our biggest tip to any other sailors who may be going abroad is to take the trouble before you leave to get “the local boater option”, which allows you to clear customs with only a phone call and you dont have to report to an office. We didnt do that before we left and now we wish we would have!
The funny thing is, we easily could have just not checked in with anyone when we arrived back in Florida and as far as I can tell no one would have known the difference. There seems to be a surprising hole in the Homeland Security thing when it comes to boats entering Florida from the ocean.
So here we are back in America…sure wish I could say it felt like home sweet home!
– Capt’n K & Lal

Our last few days in the Bahamas have been both lovely and challenging. We spent a day on Andros, where we reconnected with a few friends we met there earlier, Tony, Saunders, and Harvey. We cleaned the bottom of Wee Happy, who had started growing a scary amount of fuzz under the waterline. She needs a new paint job asap. We inquired about a catamaran that was anchored in the harbor there that was rumored to be for sale at an unheard of low price. It seemed like such a once in a life time deal that it was worth checking out. we managed to track down the owner with relatively little trouble, and when we told her we had come to inquire about her boat for sale, she laughed and said “no, no, no, no, no it’s NOT for sale!!!”. Ok, well that answers that.

The weather forcast showed a few days of relatively calm weather, which was to be followed by increasingly strong winds from the northeast. In order to get safely across the Gulf Stream, we wanted to avoid northerly winds, so we decided to book it out of Andros early the next morning to get to our launch point for crossing the Gulf Stream. We left in the wee hours of the morning in the dark, and motored our way out onto the Great Bahama Bank. We were hoping for at least a little wind to push us across, but the whole day was dead calm, and we unfortunately had to motor the whole way. The Great Bahama Bank is like a giant desert covered in 10 feet of water. It feels vast and barren. There arent really any fish or coral or underwater plant life, it is just miles of white sand covered in clear water. It is quite surreal, and the hot day featured beautiful mountainous ranges of cumulous clouds all around the horizon line. At one point I got so hot I just had to jump in the water, so we stopped the engine, jumped off the boat, and just floated out there in the vast blue water. The water in the Bahamas is undescribably delicious — so perfectly clear and just the right temperature. I am going to miss swimming every day so much when I get back to the States. We are forever spoiled now after getting to swim every day in this type of water – all other water is going to seem disgusting in comparison.

Here is a starfish we could see on the bottom from our boat at anchor:

We arrived in our anchorage at Cat Cay right at sunset. And a stunning sunset it was too. It felt like we were sailing right into the gates of heaven.

The next morning we listened to the weather again and decided to wait one day to cross the gulf stream. There would better wind for sailing on Sunday, and we would just beat the northerlies that were arriving late Sunday. Or maybe we decided to wait one more day because we wanted to enjoy the Bahamas just a little more. Im not looking forward to being back in the busy land of cars and big box stores and work, as much as we know that it is time. I have been having alternating moments of loving our little life on our little boat more than ever, savoring the sweetness of being out here in the beautiful turquoise water. And I have also been having moments of hating our little boat with an increasing passion and wanting nothing more than a real bathroom and some SPACE, dammit!

So our last day was a bit of both of those things. But it was mostly sweet and relaxed, and it was an equisite day filled with dreamy clouds in a blue sky over blue water, and coconut palms on the beach. We took the boat over to the other side of Cat Cay to position ourselves better for another early morning departure in the dark. On the way we tried fishing by throwing a line off the back of the boat. We saw one group of huge yellowtail snapper, but didnt catch anything. Once anchored we found a small coral head and went snorkeling on it. It was covered in huge fish and Captain K speared two of them for dinner! Yay! Fresh fish on our last night in the Bahamas!!! While Captain K the fisherman cleaned the fish I swam over to the little beach and found the most amazing collection of conch shells that had been washed up on the beach. The pounding of waves and sun had turned them into artistically sculpted masterpieces.
When we put down our anchor it seemed calm enough. No big waves and minimum rollies. We put out our “rocker stoppers” and the boat floated serenely on her anchor. We figured we’d be fine. After we went to bed, however, the rocking began. Swells from the ocean came rolling in and rocked the heck out of us all night long. It was the kind of swells that rock the boat sideways back and forth with a somewhat violent, sharp, incredibly annoying motion, and it is impossible to sleep through, although, believe me, we tried. We hung on tight in our bed and hovered on the edge of sleep all night…..our last night in the Bahamas.

– Capt’n K & Lala

Those of you who have been to the Exumas know that there are some famous residents on the island of Big Majors Spot. We recently met them and here is a video of our encounter.