THE BAHAMAS ADVENTURE

Page 14

12/21/00 (Thursday)

I pack my bags and call for a cab to take me to the Treasure Cay airport. It takes 15 minutes to reach the 'airport'. The whole airport consists of one two-car garage size building with a runway in back.

When I step out of the cab two small kids about 10 years old appeared out of nowhere. They carried my duffle bag and backpack about 20 feet into the building. I tipped then each a buck and handed my ticket to the women behind the little counter.

She stamps my ticket and I have to pay $15.00 to leave the country. She writes something on my ticket which I can't read and I take a seat in the 10 seat 'waiting section' of the air-shack. In about 15 minutes she announces that flight 1036 to Fort Lauderdale is now boarding. Then she moves from behind the counter and over to the door. I walk up and she carefully examines my ticket! I mean this is the same woman that gave me the ticket a few minutes ago and I'm the only one getting on the flight! Duh.

I start walking towards some model plane that holds 12 people. I'm in seat F-1 ( The seats are numbered F-1 through F12. Why F? Don't Know. ) I have to crawl into the super small opening. It's like getting into a soup can! I take my seat right behind the co-pilot. I'm really mostly in the cockpit with my chin on his shoulder. There are 6 other people on the flight already that boarded in Marsh Harbor.

Approaching Fort Lauderdale I can see many large fish just 100 feet from the bathers on the beach. I mean LARGE FISH, hundreds of them. I know that the swimmers have no idea that these giants are just a few yards away. Sharks? That would be my bet. Hey, DO NOT swim out into deep water in Florida. Please...

The flight itself is fine and a little over an hour. The landing was a little scary as we first pulled to the left then to the right of the runway. But we made it fine and I was looking forward to being able to sit up straight without hitting my head on something.

The next thing I know is I'm through customs and waiting for a real plane to take me back to Newark, NJ. The man at customs just looked at my duffle bag and never even touched it. Apparently, the two week old stench of tomatoes was enough for him to give it a pass!

I missed the early flight I had hoped for and now had to spend 5 hours waiting in the airport for the next flight to Newark. I can't tell you how many people looked at me as some kind of homeless man, all scruffy and unshaven, with a tomato sauce covered duffle bag and no where to go!

Now back in the USA with a 2 week beard and a discussing duffle bag, and waiting in an airport for hours, I now see that my classification has changed. I am now "mister homeless" and people pass me and look away. No one knows that I just spent over two weeks at sea discovering some of the many unknown people and places of the Bahamas. Something that they will never do! To them, I'm some strange guy with just too much scruffy facial hair and a duffle bag that stinks!

I think to myself, that I (we) did something that they would never would do. I took a chance and used the skills I worked years to perfect. I (we) took a small sailboat from Florida to the Bahamas! I navigated our ship to with in a few feet of our destination after passing though a changing current and over a hundred miles of open ocean!

Ron and I faced waves and currents that threatened to kill us! We sailed on and managed to take our small sailboat to places thought too dangerous to go.

If I never get a chance to do this again. I know that I have done it once. And that's enough for anyone!

Trip over -- Reality sets in hard. . .

By now,

Don

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