Regatta Time

It’s Family Island Regatta time here in G’Town and for the third year in a row, the wind has completely vanished one day before the start. The forecast is pretty dire with Windfinder actually predicting 0 knots this afternoon. Shitty death !!

Thanks to the lack of wind, I will probably be booted off my race boat as the skipper will be trying to minimize weight on board. In high winds, we’ve raced with 13 or even 15 guys, but with no wind, it’ll be more like 5 or 7. Thwarted again by the goat-rapers! Jihad on you NOAA!

The harbour has filled back up with the Regatta starting and someone reported on the net this morning we went from 150 boats last week to 270 this week. That number is extremely suspect as I look over at Sand Dollar Beach and see exactly 9 boats. In any case, after Saturday the mass exodus will resume and by next week they’ll be less than 50 boats here.

The small, impromptu shack village is in full swing on the government dock. We strolled through today before the speakers of death began their sonic onslaught. What is it about Bahamians and their speakers? How can an entire nation be afflicted with some mutant ear parasite that always forces them to turn the volume to 11?

We saw lots of our Bahamian friends working at their family’s local shack. We stopped for several beverages, but didn’t eat anything as none of the shacks have electricity or running water and if those two things don’t’ scream “DON’T EAT ME” then I don’t know what would.

The Regatta committee tried to hold the “Cup” races today, but there was so little wind that mostly the boats just sort of drifted around. We watched with our cold beverages from regatta park, but mostly we just hung out and watched the day pass before beating a hasty retreat as both storm clouds appeared on the horizon and DJ Scooby arrived and began to ready his auditory violence.

Back on the mother ship we ate the last of lobsters mixed in with linguine noodles and a white wine sauce. BodhiWeasel almost strangled himself with a noodle before being rescued by his sister and her ultra sharp demon teeth. I’ve always told Amy that pasta will kill you and now I have my proof.

To bed at 9 pm with the customary “BOOM BOOM BOOM” of the regatta music echoing in the distance. More to follow, end of line …

P.S. – The second picture is from the day after the straw market fire.

Comments (5) -

Don eat da pig mon! Respect.

Zero wind means a great grouper hunting day... so tell us about the denisons of the deep...  Me, I finished the last of the big fiberglass jobs onour new boat.  The cockpit no longer has any holes in it.  Except for needing paint, she looks hot!  Can't wait to be down there harrasing you to go cruising with us.  I know, you'll be scared cause if I beat you sailing anywhere with this hard chine, solid glass boat you wouldn't be able to live with yourself...  Yup, every time 2 sailboats leave the harbor together, it's a race and Tom is competitive. ..  Great fun.

Looking foreward  to it!


Tom competitive? Noooooooo.


Dude, regatta can lick my crack. Ket's go roll some chronic and smoke that shit like it aint no thing. Wanna get high?


party in the backyard! party all night long.

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