Bimini Rising in the East

The island disappeared.

We had come through the night across the Gulf Stream from Key Largo, Florida. When the sun rises on the water it is not only a spectacular display of artistic awe, but also a relief embraced by soul and spirit. The night blends both romance and suspense with a certain measure of tension, depending on the weather. The sunrise over the Atlantic washing across the Gulf Stream is an eraser of uncertainty and a harbinger of a great getaway just ahead.

We had raised Bimini off our starboard bow. An island rising is exciting. It begins slowly with tops. Tops of trees, tops of buildings, and tops of hillsides. Soon more rises from the water and land appears. Many times you can smell land before you can see it. It is a good smell. It is a mix of ground, trees, grasses, sometimes aromas from foods, and life that is of the land, both human and animal. Sometimes you can identify certain smells as earthy and sometimes it is the smell where land and sea meet. The sea can smell differently along the shore than at great depths and has to do with the mixing of salt and sand, seaweed, sea life, and sea-moistened land.

Rising in the east was Bimini. Our Getaway just ahead. Then more suddenly than it rose, it disappeared in a squall. Tropical weather comes quickly. You can see it coming, and you can brace for it, but usually you cannot out run it, especially in a sail boat.

"Where did it go?" The Kid called out, searching for the land that had been just ahead of us.

"Dunno. There was something of a wreck to starboard. The water was breaking over there." I pointed.

This Captain and The Kid have been through squalls before. But during this one we were just coming onto the Bahama Bank. The water depth can change quickly, and thus dangerously shallow. I kept close watch on our depth finder, because we could not see the water in front of us to read any color changes.

"Can you see any break in this?"

The clouds were dropping rain very hard and the winds had stirred the sea and the air together so reading the clouds was impossible. It was best to just hold course. If the squall would pass as quickly as it came upon us we would be OK.

"120 feet" I called to The Kid. " We're a little north. The wind has pushed us out some."

"Hey! It's letting up!"

Just as The Kid spoke those words we had sun and rain; then sun and watched the squall roll toward Florida. Bimini popped up right in front us. The Kid rushed to the bow and began taking visual readings.

"There's the bottom!" The Kid cried out. "What's our depth!"

The bottom came up from the depths very fast. It took me by surprise and at first I was not sure if the depth finder reading was accurate because the bottom was clear like when you are in swimming depth. I tapped at the depth finder.

"It says 50 feet."

As we came into Bimini the depth finder proved accurate as the reading kept showing the depths to be more shallow. We pulled into the pier to clear customs and to begin the Bimini part of our escape. Almost immediately the fun began, but that for next time.

The Captain and The Kid

http://hubpages.com/hub/Theyre-stealin-The-Water

Why is That Land Drifting North

Nighttime at sea is dark in so very many ways. The Captain and The Kid had caught the Gulf Stream low. This is the better way to cross to the Bahama Banks when under sail, or even while motor-sailing. You catch the Stream and ride it north until your exit. We decided to get off in Bimini.

"What happened to the sun?" The Kid asked.

"Not sure. Last time I saw it, it was heading west."

So, there we were, in the dark, on the ocean. No problem. GPS is working fine. Next stop Bimini. We were in some contact with a cruiser out from sight behind us. They were beginning their crossing from Marathon, and we had chosen Key Largo. Marathon can be better in that you can run more east and south before the turn north. From Key Largo, you head more south at first depending on horsepower and how much you are sailing vs motoring and where you plan to clear customs.

We took a call on the radio. By location and direction we were sure it was for us.

"Sailing vessel. Are you crossing to the Bahamas?"

"We are." The Kid handled the response.

"We see your light now and then just at the horizon. Good to have this company as we cross."

"We don't see you," The Kid replied, "but good to have you with us. We will watch for you."

In the dark a light is good to see, even if it is distant. We could not see our traveling friend. As it turned out, their sloop was smaller and the mast shorter than ours. The night got darker as we began to turn more north. Stars flickered as they darted in and out of clouds. The water was black. At night it looks thicker.

"Is that land?" The Kid pointed to the east.

It did not seem possible we could be seeing land already. But there was a row of lights in the distance that appeared to be land. Then there was a dark section and another row of lights. It seemed that we were too far south for Andros and too far west to see other islands. As I tried to peer through the darkness, I also tried to keep my mind in focus. At night your mind can be tricked. Add to it that The Captain has a mind that drifts some day and night and enjoys the tricks our eyes play with us. Something was becoming clear. This land mass was moving north.

"Is that land moving?" I asked The Kid to be sure it wasn't me drifting.

The Kid confirmed what we were seeing was moving north. This was an awkward feeling. At sea, movement is something you need to get used to. There are times when you think you are moving and you are not. Other things around you are. Then, there are times when other things are still and you are moving and did not realize it. This kind of perception is what can add to the whole idea about escaping that the sea can provide. You can always be on the move, going other places even when in reality, you are standing still.

As this Captain and The Kid watched the floating land drift north, we wondered about the stories we had read about the Bermuda Triangle. Yes, we were in the more southern part of it, but stories about floating land are ones we had not read.

The darkness grew more dark as the clouds thickened. Light from the stars would have been helpful to try to make out where this floating land was heading and if we were going to intersect with it.

"What's going on out there." Our night friend radioed.

Soon it would be clear what we were seeing that night on the Gulf Stream.
Next time more about the Land drifting north.

The Captain and The Kid
also see: http://hubpages.com/hub/Defragging-a-Good-Heart