Galley Wench Tales

Exploring the world through the people we meet
and the food they eat.

cruising life
Minimizing boat damage trumped journalistic photography when we were getting
rammed in our Nassau Bahamas anchorage.
This Marathon Florida Keys street sign captured how we felt
about the close encounter from our neighbors.

When it comes to tight anchorages, “Everybody goes surfing” is not a popular song for cruisers.

We definitely felt that way when at 6 am a catamaran broke loose from its anchor, dragged and hit us.
Twice.
The first time, no one was up. The cat smacked into our bow – a rude awakening for me, asleep in our v-berth. Wayne, who was up top on the bow when it happened, saw our bow then drag over the top of the cat’s transom. After some yelling on Wayne’s part, the folks from the cat lumbered on deck.  Still, their crew of 6 adults and one child didn’t do anything except look around, chat with each other, arms at their sides.
“Your anchor’s up!  You gotta go!”  Wayne yelled.
As they careened toward us the second time, their motor was still silent.  Wayne started up our engine, intending to at least do what he could on anchor to avoid them.  I positioned myself to push them away, but as it became clear they were headed toward out pulpit, pushing them away was out of my reach.
“Fender!” I yelled, pointing at our bow.  Two men on the cat rallied, pushing their boat away quickly when we hit, minimizing the impact, as did Wayne’s reversing our boat.  Eventually, they started their motor and motored away.
No word.  No apology.  Just a double hit-and-run.
I tried in vain to read their boat name to report them (as I did Quality Time when they hit us – click here for that), but their name was not that large, it was across a small transom step in a funky font in blue, and perhaps in French. Pisser.
In an alternate universe, we wonder… Do they think we hit them twice?
We’re betting they were a charter boat, the renters of which are often clueless.

Generally, I’m a nice person, but I would be lying if I did not admit I wish they got some boat damage, and that their charter company nails them for it.

As for us, it appears all we have is a gentle scuff mark on our bow.  No real damage, easy to rub off.  We are imminently grateful for Pearson’s ample, sturdy fiberglass hull.  The cat?   Probably not quite so lucky.

Meanwhile, we’re out of the swift, swirling channel current outside the main Nassau marinas, in Palm Cay Marina.  It’s calm and quiet away from the action.  We’re glad.

Location, Location
Feb 5, 2014. BAHAMAS. We’re at Palm Cay Marina, Nassau (N25.01.129 W77.16.277)  for some dinghy adaptations,  then off to the Exumas (probably Highborn Cay).  Likely leaving later this week.