6/2/2017. Medical Attention

Well, things don’t always work out as planned.  And we certainly didn’t plan to be back in Marsh Harbor today.  We had thought that today would find us hauling anchor at Great Sale Cay and heading across to anchor tonight on the Bahama Banks.  That plan was canceled when my left thumb and our anchor had a wicked impact yesterday morning.

We did leave Marsh Harbor as planned on 5/30 and anchored out at Manjack.  With high tide coming around 1pm, we didn’t get out of Mangoes until 11.  We need to have enough water to leave the dock.  That put us into Manjack around 3:30.  We had hoped to dinghy in and tour the mangroves and see all the rays, sharks, and turtles that we have heard so much about, but instead our nerves had us continue to prep for an iffy crossing.  We paid professional marine weatherman, Chris Parker, for a personalized forecast because we were still wondering if our decision to go was a good one.  After a conversation and early morning email with him, we decided the crossing was still doable but we had a good chance of encountering thunderstorms on the way.  He was pretty clear that the sooner we crossed the better because our window was fixing to slam shut with storms moving across Florida.  We put the dinghy back on the roof for the first time since arriving in the Bahamas.  We entered the waypoints for our route back and Tim programmed the new route into the Raymarine.  We did everything we needed to do and then had a much needed cocktail to calm our nerves.  Making the decision to cross the Gulf Stream is not one we take lightly.  We knew the conditions would be less than ideal, but as long as they weren’t going to be bad, we were ready to tackle it.  We did know that if we didn’t make this crossing, the next one wouldn’t come for at least 7 – 10 days and possibly longer.  We opted to sleep that night  in the V-berth in hopes of getting more breeze.  We may have gotten more air flow, but we also got more noises.  Tim and I have never slept in our V berth; we now have greater empathy for friends and family who have.  The sounds made by the anchor chain pulling and relaxing, waves slapping the hull, and the movement of the boat back and forth as the wind shifted , coupled with our bad case of nerves, made for a difficult night’s sleep.  We woke to a beautiful morning and despite our lack of sleep, we felt good about or decision to move on.  Since we had already done our prep the previous night it didn’t take long for us to be ready to haul up the anchor ad be on our way.  I pour Tim and I glasses of iced coffee I had made while at Mangoes to give us a cool kick of caffeine and we assumed our positions for leaving.  Our strategy for bringing up the anchor has Tim at the helm and I take up the bow position.  I step on the windlass switch to raise or lower the anchor while he drives the boat in the direction of the anchor.  We work closely together to make sure the windlass is under minimal strain as the chain rode is hauled aboard.  The tricky part comes when the shank of the anchor breaks over the roller and is pulled on board.  We have a stainless guard over the roller that the chain and shank are pulled through.  The problem is that as the shank rises above the roller, the chain can jump out of the gypsy that feeds the chain into the anchor locker.  To avoid this, I hold my left hand near the guard to push the shank back down as the chain feeds in.  Not an easy maneuver nor one I m comfortable doing,  but it is what it is.  In the past, I’ve managed to do it without harm.  This was not going to be one of those days.  Instead I must have gotten my left thumb between the anchor shaft and the guard when the shaft bounced up.  I do wear a pair of gloves when anchoring and I think if I had not had them on the damage to my thumb would be even worse.  Tim headed the boat slowly out of the anchorage while I tried to stem the bleeding.  Once he had us headed in out, he turned on the autopilot and then came down to assist me.  Jointly we agreed that I needed to get medical services, the cuts were too deep and had bled too much.  After a lot of discussion we decided that the smartest thing to do was turn back and find a clinic in Marsh Harbor.  We knew that doing this would end our chance of crossing now.  Dr. James concurred with our decision.  I had cut through an artery on one side of the thumb and cut down to the bone on the other side.  He stitched me back together- 3 on one side, 5 on the other side- and sent me back to the boat with some antibiotics.  So here we are.  Dr. James said to give the thumb at least 7 good days before attempting to use it, so I imagine we’ll be sitting tight at least a week and then the window watching will begin again in earnest.  Oh well, waiting in the Bahamas isn’t so bad.