Mayaguana, Bahamas
22.19.576N
73.01.816W

We are literally sitting in the middle of nowhere tonight. If you were to approach this island from east, west or south, you'd see three little sailboats, apparently anchored way out in the ocean. What you can't see is that we are surrounded by a reef that breaks the waves and forms an unseen protected anchorage. So here we sit waiting for the weather to either form into a front or dissipate and go away. Definitely a Christmas Eve unlike any we've ever had before.

Last night's transit was generally uneventful, it was black as pitch with no moon and partly cloudy. So, we had the Christmas game of 'do you see what I see'. The women on each of the boats were on watch at the same time, which made the game even more interesting. I started the game when I saw a search light and radioed Doc-No-More (ahead of me) to see if they could see where it was coming from, at first, Elaine couldn't see it. Then Connie thought perhaps I was seeing her foredeck light. I relayed that what I was seeing was ahead of me (she was behind me). Then Elaine radioed back, yes she could see a light but couldn't identify it. Connie thought perhaps it was the moon. I told her that I would feel pretty silly if what I saw was the moon (the light was coming from the south.) Then we all saw it pan across the ocean; clearly a search light but where was it coming from? About 30 minutes later, Doc-No-More radioed that they had just played a game of dodge boat with a tug towing a barge and that I was next in line and oh, by the way, there's another big boat approaching from the west I might want to keep an eye out for.

Since I was about an hour behind them I had plenty of time to get ready to panic. Actually, I started off fine. Since the tug and barge were crossing my path, I could see that I was going to miss the tug but I would have to alter course to miss the towed barge. There were red and white lights all over the place indicating that something was being towed, the direction they were going and the end of the procession. (Fred, you remember how well I do with red lights.) (For everyone else: unless the red light steers a course across mine, I can't tell what it's doing. It could be 5 yards from me or 5 miles; it can be coming towards me or traveling away, I can't tell). Thank heavens the other big boat I had been warned about, was showing a green light; at least I could see that one. It was already passing me and Connie would have to tango with it. My concern were those red lights.

I turned on the engine and altered course to pass behind the barge, I thought. By changing course I was suddenly doing over 7 kts.; I pulled back on the throttle to idle, I was still doing over 6.5 kts. By this time, Dale was awake and clambering up the stairs to see what was going on. Wow, red lights everywhere; what's going on? I told him what I had seen and what I had done. That's when it happened. Suddenly what I thought was the red light showing the end of the towed barge, started to get closer and closer. I radioed Elaine, did you say that the barge was being towed or being pushed? Roger came back (everyone was up now): being towed they radioed back. Dale was totally confused. If it was crossing right to left and I had passed to the right behind the barge, what was I seeing that made me think that it was now bearing down on us. "That red light! The one getting closer to us. The one right dead center of our boat!" So now he gets that "tone" in his voice. "You watched it. You made the right move to go behind it. Why are you second guessing yourself". Well . . . , obviously . . . , cuz it's a red light!

Right about then the radio crackles; its Rick and Connie: "Did you guys see that big boat? We had to change course to get out of its way.

On my next watch, another big boat approaches with both red and green showing (collision course). I watch it for a while. Then the radio hails: "Sailboat directly in front of me, do you want to pass red to red or green to green." You know what I suggested: "green to green, please".

As I started out, 3 little sailboats are sitting alone here in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearby town. We're all tired from a long night. We're keeping to ourselves. We wish each other good tidings over the radio. It's Christmas Eve and I have a huge lump in my throat. I miss my kids. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss the parties and the music and church choirs singing at the top of their voices. Dale tries to comfort me by reading the Christmas story from the Bible. It does help. There's a very high price to pay to live in paradise. We're paying it right now.