Our destination this time was an anchorage just outside the harbor at Man-o-War Cay, a small island settled (like many islands in the Bahamas) by Loyalists during/after the Revolution. It became a major boatbuilding center, first in wood but now in fiberglass. Almost everyone is named Albury (=Albright) and so businesses are called by the owner's first name ("Edwin's Boat Yard," "Joe's Studio").

Man-o-War is a study in contrasts; quite simple working people's houses are side-by-side with much fancier places owned by (or rented to) vacationing Americans. We saw a lot of beautiful gardens, but we did not see a lot of happy-looking people. Perhaps because it was Saturday.

On the dinghy ride in from the boat to town we saw in the very clear water a large (for us) shark, maybe 10 feet long, swimming along beside us, seemingly in no hurry and quite beautiful in his economy of motion. After a bit he (she?) headed off in another direction; I suspect we weren't very interesting after all. We also saw starfish as big as dinner plates and hermit crabs walking around in borrowed shells. Sand bottom is considered uninteresting by snorkeling or diving enthusiasts, but it was interesting to us, probably because it was so new.

As we walked we kept seeing people eating as they walked or carrying plates of food on golf carts (the standard mode of transportation). Finally we came to the mother-lode, a group of tables set up outside the grocery store for a lunch to benefit the Rescue. Somehow this seemed familiar, but we were a little too late to get any.

There are some beaches on the inner (Sea of Abaco) side, but the beaches on the ocean side are spectacular. The reefs offshore blunt the seas but do not stop them completely, so there is usually a little surf running and all sorts of interesting flotsam. Then there is always the sound of the surf on the reef, a steady roar even on days that seem to be calm.

Back in Marsh Harbour we developed a regular routine: work on the boat in the morning, Check for mail and some shopping in the afternoon (especially on Wednesdays because the boat comes in from Florida on Tuesdays and the fresh produce and meat is on the shelves the next day), and we formed the habit of stopping in a few nights a week for happy hour at Snappa's, a local bar with a dinghy dock that made it quite convenient. We watched a little football there and met a few cruisers off other boats, although Snappa's is not really their bar; the boat people who spend the winter in Marsh Harbour tend to go to the "Jib Room" on the other side of the harbor.

We did meet Dick, from Rainbow Ride, who had crossed the Atlantic twice, Steve and Sandra, from Princess, and Joe, from Gemini.

After a few moments of stunned silence and "Why doesn't somebody do something?" thoughts, two Bahamian guys and I ran for our dinghy, the only one at the dock. We started her up and set off in pursuit.

It turned out that my companions in the rescue were two of the performers who hang out at Snappa's on off nights, Edward ("Edge") and Desmon (the "Limbo Man").

The Inauguration was much celebrated in Marsh Harbour.

One day in late January was the "official 15th 50th birthday party" of Pete, a sculptor and pub proprietor who lives in Little Harbour, about sixteen miles south of Marsh Harbour by land, but maybe twice that by water, the reverse of the Maine situation.

I should explain, I guess, that Kalik is a Bahamian beer. The name is supposed to evoke the cow-bells that play an important part in Junkanoo, a festival with parades somewhat like Mardi Gras, but I don't see the similarity. Nevertheless, it is light and very refreshing but also quite flavorful, a combination the Budweisers and Millers of the world have not achieved, in my opinion.

Just before it began to get dark our Marsh Harbour friends began sorting out their rides home and we went back to the boat, to spend the night there and return to Marsh in the morning.

We were held up by weather, a series of cold fronts trailing from the storms that plagued the US, but on the 5th we said our good-byes, and we finally got out of Marsh Harbour and retraced our steps toward Little Harbour early on the 6th. We had planned to anchor at the southern end of the Sea of Abaco and cross to Eleuthera the next day, but when we got to the Little Harbour passage out to the Atlantic we found the conditions so good that we just kept on going across New Providence Channel and before dark we were anchored off Royal Island, in the Bight of Eleuthera.