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It is winter in the outer islands of the Bahamas and in theory that sounds great. On paper you can see the bright blue water, you can feel the tropical breezes, and you get a little light headed from imagining the frozen drinks and the Jimmy Buffet playing in the background. In practice however, the water is choppy, Canada keeps sending down cold front after cold front, hot chocolate is the drink of choice and, quite frankly, if you don’t have a bit of a buzz on, Jimmy Buffet just grates on the nerves.
I know that it isn't politically correct to complain about your mid winter trip to the Bahamas while your friends and family are stuck in the dark, frozen depths of a climate change era Canadian winter, but it’s cold! Okay it isn't Calgary cold or Toronto cold, but this is Bahamian cold and that’s pretty chilly when your bathtub is the ocean. We've dug out long pants, sweaters, and sleeping bags and we've been hiding down below for warmth. We are like hibernating bears in both our behaviour and, sadly, our smell.
The real tragedy, she said dramatically, is that despite the erratic weather patterns, bringing winds from every direction, the outer islands don’t seem to have any anchorages that provide much protection. This is a fundamental problem and the result is that we've spent a month in rolling, rocking, pitching, and surging anchorages. No matter where we go, the waves find us and punish us.
We've been listening to a daily weather broadcast and we’re told that things are going to get better. We've been hearing that prediction for a few weeks now and it seems less and less likely but, we have decided to put doubt aside and have faith in that most devious of individuals, the weatherman. Generally we eschew organized religion, and cults, but we tune in every morning at 6:30 am to hear the word from the meteorological pulpit and say a prayer to the weather gods that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be a nice day.
I know that it isn't politically correct to complain about your mid winter trip to the Bahamas while your friends and family are stuck in the dark, frozen depths of a climate change era Canadian winter, but it’s cold! Okay it isn't Calgary cold or Toronto cold, but this is Bahamian cold and that’s pretty chilly when your bathtub is the ocean. We've dug out long pants, sweaters, and sleeping bags and we've been hiding down below for warmth. We are like hibernating bears in both our behaviour and, sadly, our smell.
The real tragedy, she said dramatically, is that despite the erratic weather patterns, bringing winds from every direction, the outer islands don’t seem to have any anchorages that provide much protection. This is a fundamental problem and the result is that we've spent a month in rolling, rocking, pitching, and surging anchorages. No matter where we go, the waves find us and punish us.
We've been listening to a daily weather broadcast and we’re told that things are going to get better. We've been hearing that prediction for a few weeks now and it seems less and less likely but, we have decided to put doubt aside and have faith in that most devious of individuals, the weatherman. Generally we eschew organized religion, and cults, but we tune in every morning at 6:30 am to hear the word from the meteorological pulpit and say a prayer to the weather gods that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be a nice day.