Our easter blows!

My hair is airborne. Resenting it’s roots, it beats my face relentlessly. Medusa, spaghetti wars, the wind’s bad influence has made it all wild. I pry and pat and pull frantically, dragging strands from my mouth, trying to enlist my ears as clips. It’s all to no avail.

This is ‘our easter’. Not to be confused with the ‘other’ Easter; the Christian observance where a bloody cross is dragged through the streets, nor the highly commercialized holiday where children run around madly looking for eggs layed by a monstrous imaginary white bunny. And where there are chocolates. Lots of chocolates.

Though here in Bimini on ‘That Easter’ we did observe the massive cross being dragged up the one and only road that connects the two tiny towns. This one had a wheel at the bottom though, so, cheating really. We sat with the rest at Stuart’s Conch shack, our easter blowing the sharp stench of rotting conch shells toward the merry makers who listened to the local singer belt out his reggae versions of random songs. We all drank beers and for the brave, the infamous local drink, ‘Bimini Knock Out Punch’. 

No, our easter involves good old Mother nature. She has a vengeance against the west. Not the ‘West’ which refers loosely to countries like America, but in this case, down Florida way, she does seem to be ceaselessly battering the eastern shore. And it has been weeks. And we were there, trying to head east. In a sailboat. Doesn’t work so well. 

Though we did choose a day, motivated by visa concerns and the imagined worst case scenario involving coast guard and cops, not wanting to ‘overstay our welcome’; we made the first crossing into the Bahamas. And the ocean, wild and wavy, told us what it thought of that with a big bitch slap of salty water, right up and over the helm. The instruments, cockpit, even our indoor rug were all soaked. I stood there, dripping, shivering, completely indignant. Yet as the sea tends to teach, there is no time for self pity, I was changed and dried and back up at the helm for another nine or ten hours trading off and on with JW before we reached the safe harbor of North Bimini.

And here we are. Days and weeks have blown by. And boy has it blown. Our easter blows constantly. She is not concerned with the ‘one week off a year’ tourists up at the fancy rooftop pool of the Hilton. Those whose cocktails are pushed over, making sticky puddles that are then blown slowly across the fancy tiles… Where the infinity pool is splashing all the wrong places. Where the umbrellas are packed away for safety concerns.

Our easter has zero concern for our seasonal sailing plans, which involve leaving this tiny sliver of land and heading east. Oops. East. Sorry sailors, claims our easter with a wink. You won’t be going anywhere just yet! If you can keep your boat anchored without dragging like some of your neighbors in the face of my wrath, you have accomplished something! But sailing onward?! Ha!!! (She is heartless our easter).

And so we are here, the little A on the map. On this tiny island, 7 miles long, by only 200 ft wide, with a population of roughly 300. Plus us. 

The water is blue. The beers are cold. But the wind, she blows. 

We’ve had our first annual ‘talking heads’, however due to prevailing conditions, it was not in a bay on a remote island, but the huge hot tub of the Resorts World Bimini’s Hilton. We brought our own beers, the wind was provided.

We did sneak out of the inlet one day to investigate the Sapona, a massive concrete and steel wreck that was once a famous rum runner in prohibition days. Now, a tourist attraction and man made reef. But we had to retreat back to the relative protection of our bay. Our easter so demanded.

The weather sites are predicting a lull in the wind followed by a change of direction early next week. We’ll believe that when we see it, or sail it!!! For now, it’s not so bad to be stuck here; we found a Laundromat and refilled our propane tank. And we’ve got a beach and 5 pools to choose from. We can walk into town for cheaper beers and decent grilled meat by the roadside. 

We’ve heard the supply ship is coming from Miami today, so there might be something fresher than moldy $5 avocados. It will be the highlight of our day walking into town to investigate. Ok, maybe there will be a sojourn in the hot tub after that. Life is pretty good despite our easter. I just have to remember my hair ties!