Georgetown Passage – Day 2, Part V, 01-02 through 10-04-09

The New Year aboard Flying Pig was a subdued affair, as seen in my
last. Weather had us staying on the boat and doing boat chores.
You’ve heard it before – “Cruising is boat repairs in exotic
locations!” – and this was to prove no exception.

Today was to be conch harvesting day, the sun being a bit more
promising, so as Lydia and her mom continued with polishing stainless,
I hauled up the conch anchor. All were alive and well, and I set to
extracting, trimming and skinning the 17 large conch we had left. One
of my correspondents had written to me to ask about catch limits, as
the Bahamas, in the last couple of years, at the same time they raised
the cruising permits (which include a fishing license for the boat)
prices to $150 or $300, depending on the size of the boat, had also,
at the same time, instituted catch limits on conch and all the other
forms of nourishment from the sea. Our interpretation of the rule on
conch was that we were permitted 6 per person aboard. Given that
they’d not keep, we’d not have more than that in any case. And, as we
have had absolutely no luck in fishing of any sort, here, we were in
no danger of bumping up against any of the other limits, at least not
for the moment!

In the book we’d found, I got a very much clearer view of the
extraction process, and quickly moved through the heavy mound sitting
next to me on the platform. I’d decided to shuck them all and then
clean them all, which, for reasons you’ll see in a minute, I’ll not do
again.

For those who may have successfully found, but had trouble getting out
the meat in, a conch, I learned that the secret was not only where I’d
been making the hole (I’d been starting from the top, not the largest
points, which usually meant it was too high), but that I didn’t have
to do much cutting, at all. Using a filet knife, keeping it against
the center (not outside) of the shell, I pushed it as far down as
possible. It’s that center part where the muscle attaches, and a
slight twist, following the shell, to either side, if the straight-
down didn’t do it, was all that was needed to easily separate the
animal from its home.

The first 8 or so went very quickly, but I got a big surprise when I
picked up the next one, as it had a huge hermit crab in it! When I’d
harvested it, I’d only checked to see that there was a dark
“something” in the open part of the shell, and had missed the nature
of the occupant :{)) He was easily the size of a small lobster, and
pretty entertaining to look at, but we put him back in the water after
a photo-op. Finally, near the end, I picked up one whose shell was
nearly black, and the inside had started to go dark. Another item
learned from the book, which showed us that it was very old, suggested
we return him to the sea, also, as local knowledge suggested they
could have accumulated toxins we'd be sorry about if we were to eat
it. Accordingly, he joined the hermit crab and all the empties off
the stern. We were still left with 17 to clean.

I’d been plopping them in a bucket of seawater as I extracted them,
and put them all on the cutting board while I refreshed the bucket.
This same book referenced before had a good diagram on how to clean
them, and I set to doing that. I confess to having been
overconfident, as the extraction process had gone so well, whereas
NONE of the meats surrendered their skins as was expected from the
diagrams and having seen the pro in Nassau so easily do. Whereas the
extraction took perhaps 10 minutes, the preparation took easily 3
hours.

However, as I handled each, they seemed firmer than I’d have thought.
The next time we do this, I’ll extract and clean each in turn, as I
suspect rigor mortis or its piscine equivalent may have been at work.
That said, these weren’t slimy to any notable degree, unlike our first
batch, so, the selfsame book’s assertion that slime is a product of
stress seems to have been borne out, my extraction having been much
faster and more efficient this time, not allowing the animal time for
stress. And, despite the very long time it took to clean them, we
were left with a very large pile of meat.

This time, I took them below and lightly scored them on both sides in
a checkerboard fashion, as our pro in Nassau had done, before slicing
them. These small scores would allow more surface area for the
marinade to work, and we’d eat these cold. Sure enough, the first
half or so of the pile were delicious in our salad. We threw the
remainder in an Alfredo sauce over pasta a couple of days later, and
while they were definitely more in the line of “eraser” quality, they
surrendered to chewing readily, and retained their delicious
character. We’ll see if my immediate cleaning has an effect on not
only the ease of cleaning, but how they are in the eating :{))

The next day was time to return to McDuff’s, the pub/bar/restaurant on
the beach at the far side of the runway nearby our anchorage, as they
offered free internet. When we arrived, we’d seen their encrypted
signal and hailed them on the VHF. They said it was free at the bar,
so we went in to have a drink and see how we could qualify for the
signal. It’s a very limited system, with the wifi portion provided
only to renters in the cottages, but they have the router set up with
4 ethernet cables, and invite patrons to sit at the “internet table”
with a direct feed.

So, we arrived early, finding the couple we’d chatted up at the bar on
our first visit already logged on. We came before the lunch rush so
we’d be out of their way, and set in to work over our iced tea and
coffees. I’d taken Lydia’s mom’s computer to download whatever mail
she might have had, and to post the prior logs to the forums and
mailing lists who do without when we’re SailMailing (the HF radio
email program which gets this log posted when we’re at sea, courtesy
of my son), as well as to post the current logs to all the places they
eventually appear. Her computer is ancient in technical terms (8
years old), and it took forever on my side of the activity.
Meanwhile, Lydia was able to pull up her YouTube videos of her
grandson, as well as do other bandwidth-intensive chores, but we
failed to make Skype work. Every connection we tried was crystal
clear to us, but totally unintelligible to the other end…

While we were waiting for downloads, or, in my case, just waiting for
a change in browser tabs, the restaurant bustled, with Stephan, the
restaurant manager/owner, and Celeste, SO of the other owner, Chris,
who has a concierge service and also arranges for all the provisions
and supplies to be delivered, scurrying to serve the nice crowd – but
with limited and diminishing menu items! Earlier in the week, they’d
had a gangbuster several days, with one day including 100 for the
lunch period. Given the challenges of supplying a tiny island with all
of 4 permanent residents, it’s not surprising that, when a food
delivery was missed, they started running out of things to serve!

So, by the time the rush had died and we ordered, there were only
grouper, mahi-mahi, and chicken left. That sounds negative, but with
Lydia’s kids all having spent time in the hospitality business, we saw
it as very positive.

During our various other times when they weren’t having to rush
around, we’d chatted them up, learning how they possibly managed to
get, for example, their diesel which powered their generator, or their
propane on which they cook, or, for that matter, how they managed
their food ordering, what with the vagaries of both customer
preference and the challenges of preservation. By the time we
ordered, we felt like family :{))

I’ll spare you the details, but each element involves manual transfer
and several handlings of whatever it is, from fuel to propane to parts
to food provisions. The fact that they can usually manage to have a
full menu at all is quite an accomplishment. The other fact that they
do so at prices that aren’t far off stateside prices (beer and Coke
products excepted) is astounding. Put that together with a marvelous
“keeping it real” atmosphere, friendly encounters along the “Cheers”
lines, and marvelous hosts makes this a definite “do-not-miss”
opportunity if you find yourselves in the Norman’s Cay area.

Oh, and the sandwiches were delicious, the Ceasar salad wonderful, and
the french fries perfectly prepared (to meet Lydia’s and my unusual
preference). By the time we left to go back to the dinghy, we felt
like we’d known them all our lives. As we had many full-sized charts
of the area we found we’d not been using due to the complete coverage
of the Explorer Charts, we offered to bring extras over for them to
post for ambience and patrons’ information, and to do a book
exchange. The next day, just before dark, we did just that, and bade
them a fond farewell and hurried back to the boat for dinner and
another early night.

We’ll leave you there, with us still swinging to the current on our
anchor in deep water…

As always, those on our log lists will receive real-time reports, but
those seeing these in the forums will have to wait until we have good
internet connectivity. There’s no internet service here, and we don’t
know when the next will be, but you can see our progress on our SPOT
page, http://tinyurl.com/FlyingPigSpotTracking …

Stay tuned :{))

L8R

Skip and Crew

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
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"And then again, when you sit at the helm of your little ship on a
clear
night, and gaze at the countless stars overhead, and realize that you
are
quite alone on a wide, wide sea, it is apt to occur to you that in the
general scheme of things you are merely an insignificant speck on the
surface of the ocean; and are not nearly so important or as self-
sufficient
as you thought you were. Which is an exceedingly wholesome thought,
and one
that may effect a permanent change in your deportment that will be
greatly
appreciated by your friends."- James S. Pitkin