The British Virgin Islands

April 10th, 2014 at 3:56:49 PM permalink
Evenbob
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
Threads: 146
Posts: 25010
They have a saying in HI, 'never turn your back on
the ocean'. With good reason.

Where I lived there was this weird tree that had a
low branch that went out over the water. There
was never a surf here, it was always very calm and
I would sit on the branch and dangle my feet in
the water. One day I was facing the shore and had
my back to the water and a 5' rogue wave knocked
me off the branch face first into the water and tried
to drag me out with it. Scared me to death, and that's
just one story of many.
If you take a risk, you may lose. If you never take a risk, you will always lose.
April 10th, 2014 at 4:20:17 PM permalink
Fleastiff
Member since: Oct 27, 2012
Threads: 62
Posts: 7831
Quote: Face
Everyone has their specialty, and mine is certainly within the woods. Forest, jungle, desert, arctic; every one I could probably manage. But there is not a single place on Earth that I'm more out of my element than the deep blue sea.
I think it is only machismo that is preventing me from admitting aloud that I'm actually scared of it =p

From Moxie Marlinspike of Internet SSL authentication fame: I like sailing, have a Master's mariner license, and used to do yacht deliveries world-wide. I'm interested in sailing without engines, and draw great inspiration from the likes of Moitessier, as well as the entire 1968 Golden Globe crew. I've spent enough time on the water to love the ocean, but also to be constantly terrified of it. (He is the one who when rescued from SF Bay by a passing tug boat and heated atop its engine wound up in the emergency room with a core body temperature so low the digital thermometer in the ER would not register it).
April 10th, 2014 at 5:51:22 PM permalink
Evenbob
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
Threads: 146
Posts: 25010
Quote: Fleastiff
I've spent enough time on the water to love the ocean, but also to be constantly terrified of it. [/b ].


If you're not terrified of it, something is wrong
with you. I don't even think about what's IN
the ocean, just the ocean itself scares me. It
has it's own agenda and it doesn't include me.
That's fine, you stay way over there and I'll
stay 600' above sea level.
If you take a risk, you may lose. If you never take a risk, you will always lose.
April 10th, 2014 at 6:21:21 PM permalink
rxwine
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
Threads: 188
Posts: 18631
Speaking of fishing, did they allow spear fishing there while you were snorkeling. (yeah, I could see it going through another tourist instead of a fish - rookie mistake)
You believe in an invisible god, and dismiss people who say they are trans? Really?
April 10th, 2014 at 7:45:34 PM permalink
Face
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
Threads: 61
Posts: 3941
Quote: rxwine
Speaking of fishing, did they allow spear fishing there while you were snorkeling. (yeah, I could see it going through another tourist instead of a fish - rookie mistake)


I dunno about the legality of it all. When it came to the licenses and gear, we just funneled money into The Fed's bank account and he took care of it all.

There was a shop we hit on day 8 that had all sorts of active gear. Snorkels, fins, sail boards, fishing tackle, and yes, spears. The mechanical type you fire like a gun. But I was quite drunk by then, and I dunno if it was for sale, rent, or decoration.

I'm not sure what you'd even use it for. The majority of fish we saw weren't ones you'd typically think to eat. I saw one flounder, but no grouper or mahi-mahi or anything of that sort. It was all mostly aquarium fish. Not to mention all the locals warning us that the cuda were poisonous.
Be bold and risk defeat, or be cautious and encourage it.
April 10th, 2014 at 8:31:57 PM permalink
Fleastiff
Member since: Oct 27, 2012
Threads: 62
Posts: 7831
The Bahamas charge 300.00 for a yacht visit (includes exit fees) and their customs officers will be pure hell on a yacht that enters Bahamian waters with drugs, firearms or spear fishing gear. No explanations, no quiet dispositions.
Without clear water and plenty of fish, the Bahamian officials know few will want to visit so spear fishing is strictly illegal.

Some vest pocket country down there somewhere just went 100 percent Marine Fishery Preserve because they make so much money servicing yachts and selling Nature Tourist holidays.

To protect the marine environment, possession of spear guns and spear fishing using scuba gear are illegal in The Bahamas, although free diving with a Hawaiian sling is permitted.

Permits can be obtained from Customs officials at ports of entry. Fishing gear is restricted to hook and line and you may not fish with more than six rods at a time.

Bag limits

Lobster or Crawfish: Six tails per person, at any time. Annual closed season is 1 April to 31 July. Minimum size limits are 3 3/8" carapace length or 6" tail length. Egg-bearing female crawfish are protected.

Harvesting and possession of conch without a well-formed lip is prohibited. Bag limit at any time is 10 per person.

Wahoo/Dolphin/Kingfish

Six fish per person, in any combination.

Stone Crabs

Closed season is 1 June to 15 October. Minimum harvestable claw is 4". Harvesting of females is prohibited.

Turtle

Illegal to import although legal to eat in The Islands of The Bahamas.

Spearfishing

A Hawaiian sling is the only approved spearfishing device. Use of scuba gear or an air compressor to harvest fish, conch, crawfish and other marine animals is prohibited. Spearfishing is not allowed within 1.6 km off the coast of New Providence, within 1.6 km off the south coast of Freeport or Grand Bahama Island, or within 200 yards off the coast of all the Out Islands. Spearing or taking marine animals by any means is prohibited within national sea parks.

Vessel bag limit

20 pounds of scalefish, 10 conchs and 6 crawfish per person may be exported from The Islands of The Bahamas.
April 11th, 2014 at 1:53:30 AM permalink
Pacomartin
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
Threads: 1068
Posts: 12569
Quote: Face
Wondering how they got there, seeing how the ocean had molded them, it was pretty cool.


Many people think that they were carried by glaciers, which is not true since glaciers never came that far south even in the worst parts of the ice ages.

They are volcanic. Molten rock seeped up through rock layers but never reached the surface. It cooled slowly and formed the hard crystalline granite layer. Then the softer rocks on the top level wore away by the ocean, and repeated pounding broke up the granite layer into giant boulders.

It is almost unique in the entire world. A more common rock formation on the beach is a thrust zone like the picture below.

April 11th, 2014 at 5:58:10 AM permalink
Face
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
Threads: 61
Posts: 3941
Quote: Fleastiff

Without clear water and plenty of fish, the Bahamian officials know few will want to visit so spear fishing is strictly illegal.


I find that odd. I mean, ain't no spear fishers decimating a habitat. Of all the ways to take a fish, that's gotta be up there with the most difficult and least productive. Granted, those types are obviously better divers than I, but if we're just talking numbers, I find it hard to believe they could pull more by spear than I could with hook and line.

Quote: Pacomartin
Many people think that they were carried by glaciers, which is not true since glaciers never came that far south even in the worst parts of the ice ages.


I'm a NY'er, so of course knew that. Most of the things I do and places I go are a result of glacial work.

I assumed it had to be volcanic. They have that same "pillow-y" look of rocks I saw in Yellowstone, and they lacked the striation of either sedimentary rock, or of a plate that got pushed up by tectonic movement.

It was still odd, though. Because, I mean... they were individuals. It wasn't like a vein that got exposed. They were individual pillows of hardened rock, sometimes set upon each other. It was a very cool place to be =)

Be bold and risk defeat, or be cautious and encourage it.
April 11th, 2014 at 8:11:37 AM permalink
Face
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
Threads: 61
Posts: 3941
"One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain
One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain
So hit me with music, hit me with music
Hit me with music, hit me with music now" - Bob Marley "Trenchtown Rock"

Day 7

Jost Van Dyke was where we were, and it was the last island we'd hit on the trip. As such, we didn't have far to go, so needed no early wake up or frantic sail to port. Our next stop was Great Harbor, just around the point from Garner Bay where we woke, so we decided to kill the morning at Sandy Cay.

Sandy Cay was absolutely gorgeous. The bad thing was that I had come down with a sinus infection during the night and woke up stuffed, nose leaking like a sieve, and beginning to fall into a feverish delirium. God, but I hate being sick when it's warm out! We didn't really have meds to deal with it, and it being morning, I couldn't go to bed and sweat it out. So I pounded a bunch of Flonase up my nose, took a bunch of Vicodin (acetaminophen for the fever, the rest for all the rest lol), and a healthy whack of whiskey. It was about all I could do =(

I couldn't dive with everyone else with my nose leaking like that. I probably would've drowned in my own goggles, not to mention the water pressure on my sinuses would've drove me mad. So I took the dinghy to the Cay while the rest swam in.





Sandy Cay is just a tiny little island that, as far as I could tell, was uninhabited. There was a handmade sign directing one to a bar, but as far as we walked, I saw no structure whatsoever and the only people came by the boat tied up next to us. To me, it looked completely deserted.

By 9a I was completely wasted on meds and fever, and it was already climbing over 80*F with no wind and full sun. I was in a complete dream world, floating around the beach more than any walking. The Fed called me over to where he was on hands and knees and pointed out a hole in the sand. It was only 2" wide, maybe, and gave no clue as to what caused it. He started scooping it out, digging deeper and deeper until the sand came out dark and wet, then suddenly jerked out and almost fell over backwards. A little crab rocketed out of the hole, then scurried right back in again. We messed around with it for quite awhile, trying to get a hold of it, but it was the fastest little crab I had ever seen. You just couldn't out maneuver it, and it would take runs and jump at you when your hands got close. I even had The Fed distract it and tried to come up from behind it, but that thing seemed to be able to face every direction at the same time. After about 15 minutes, we declared it too fast to catch and let it scurry back into the sea.







That little bit of activity took it all out of me. I staggered over to the bank where there was a log and a little sliver of shade and collapsed, head down, nose running, and knowing it was just getting started. I sat like that for nearly an hour and just let the fever take me.

Ash walked way to the end of the island, then came to retrieve me to show me what she found. By this time I was full on delirious, completely out of my skull with fever. I dragged myself off the beach and headed with her, eyes closed and swaying all over.

We walked until the beach gave way to a big pad of volcanic rock. On it were snails beyond counting. The sand just ended, this wide plate of rock began, and it was completely covered with what must have been hundreds of thousands of these things. Every little black dot on that expanse of greenish brown was a mollusk of some sort, and it went on forever.





We kept walking until Ash found a trail into the woods, and into the woods we went. Possibly even more so than the beach, the island was awash in life. Lizards ran everywhere. All you could hear was them scurrying through the leaves and grass. Some of them were little anoles that you frequently see in pet stores. Others were a full two feet long and ran light lightning. There were also hermit crabs beyond count. Everywhere you looked, the ground just wriggled and writhed in movement. Of course, that could've been the fever, but I caught crabs as big as my hand down to the size of my finger nail.





We kept walking until the trail terminated at a giant tree. It was weird. I didn't see another tree of this type on the whole island; mostly it was just smaller scrubby jungle type trees. Then, in the middle of the island, this great, white skinned monster. I half expected it to come alive and start talking, as it reminded me of an ent from Tolkien lore.



After our walk we returned to the boat. I was completely miserable, held hostage by a pouring nose and fever. There was only one thing I could think to do - get all the water out of me to stop my nose. And there's only one way I knew how to do it - start drinking.

By the time we made the little jaunt over to Great Harbor, I was already buzzing good and feeling better. I was still mostly retarded on fever and now alcohol, but I felt a rally coming. Things were looking up. And since beer had been the answer, I sure wasn't gonna stop now.



We moored and headed in to Foxy's, a local bar with barbeque that sort of end capped a long string of local establishments and souvenir shops. We, of course, headed directly to the bar. It wasn't long before I drank myself dry and was back in the land of comfortable feel-good. I decided to lounge, and every one of my companions decided to keep feeding me beer, and I decided to let them. Disaster averted =)





I eventually dragged/fell my way out of the hammock and went for a walk with everyone else. We went into the dive shop where the spear fishing gear was. We checked out a local who carved and painted coconut shells. We checked out an old WWII era jeep that had been living the life down here in paradise. Checked out an old church. We walked the whole beach, checked out everything, and eventually went way off the beaten path in search of ice.













The ice was a weird experience. It was way up into the local area. And once off the beaten path, things changed but quick. The beach gave way to scraggly, dark yards filled with broken boats and shattered vehicles. Scrawny dogs chained to trees. Houses in ill repair. It wasn't but a 100' when things changed from Copacabana to Mogadishu. It was sketchy as hell. The ice shack was a brick building with one window and a bodged together door. Just a lone sign, "Ice", marked it. We had to go in a fence, knock on the windowless door, and walk into a building with no lights. Inside, it looked like a place one sold people out of, or maybe sold people's parts. It was eerie. But a local soon popped in cheery as could be and sent us on our way with 10lbs of the cold stuff, and we made it back without issue.

We killed the rest of the day depleting our booze resources before heading back in to Foxy's for their huge barbeque. While waiting for it to start and doing my best to drink their own bar dry, I was approached by a local. "How's it g'wan, mon?" "Ha! Not bad, not bad at all! How could I be having a bad time here?" "Der only be two ways to be having a bad time on de islands, mon. One is to not be smokin' da ganja. The other is to smoke de ganja but to not be having any on you!" Ha! Green-shirt man was cracking me up. He went on to offer me and anyone I was with the high of a lifetime, but I was way too drunk already. It would've completely destroyed me and put me in pass out mode. So I declined and he went on his way, staged up at the end of the dock and offering all the arrivals "de best ganja on de island"

Soon, it was food time. It was buffet style, and we somehow registered first out of everyone, getting the first crack at everything. I was completely bombed by then, and had plates loaded upon plates loaded upon plates. Ribs, barbeque chicken, salad, corn on de cob, grilled mahi-mahi, it never ended. I ate everything I had, most of Ash's and was still picking at the rest of Mrs Fed's food, and the line was still going. We scored huge on getting the first tickets that night.

Waitresses came and went, refilling our beers and Bushwhackers and rum punches all night long. As the buffet winded down, a local reggae band showed up and started playing about every Bob Marley song I'd ever heard, along with some Inner Circle (of "Cops" theme song fame, that was good for The Fed =)). About the time they launched into Trenchtown Rock, as a storm came and dumped torrents of warm, tropical rain on our heads to end the night, I was indeed feeling no pain.
Be bold and risk defeat, or be cautious and encourage it.
April 11th, 2014 at 10:59:11 AM permalink
Pacomartin
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
Threads: 1068
Posts: 12569
Quote: Face
It was still odd, though. Because, I mean... they were individuals. It wasn't like a vein that got exposed. They were individual pillows of hardened rock, sometimes set upon each other. It was a very cool place to be =)


My friends got married on the beach next to those rocks.

The rocks started out as a layer, and then they were broken up into pieces and piled on top of each other. The process took over 100 million years.