We were starting to run low on fresh foods so we tore ourselves away from Alabaster Bay and moved five miles south to Governor's Harbour. The holding there can be very uncooperative but we found a patch of deep (deep enough) sand to sink our anchor into near the north corner. We rowed into the beach and made the obligatory visit to the old library's second floor porch overloooking the harbor.

There's a woman named Charlotte who sells her own baked goods out of her home near the Buccaneer Club. She said she would bake us some pineapple tarts and coconut tarts that would be ready early in the afternoon. When we returned that afternoon, she apologized, saying something else came up. Ah, Bahamas.

After stocking up at the grocery store and bakery, we ordered some conch salad to go from the Bucaneer Club then headed back out and continued south to Ten Bay where we spent the night in a flat calm preceding another front. The calm persisted the next morning all the way to Rock Sound, punctuated by brief showers with many rainbows.

The first thing we did after anchoring off the Dingle Motors dock (which was unusable) was to visit with Kermit and Mrs. Cates whom I hadn't seen for about six years. They're both looking well but leaving most of the work at Dingle Motors and the Lumber Shed to their son Chris. My zincs hadn't yet arrived but I later learned were delivered a couple of hours after we were back aboard so I won't get them until after Boxing Day.

That was not a problem. We're really here for Junkanoo. It's a Bahamian celebration somewhat like what I imagine Carnival is like in Rio, though on a much smaller scale. Rock Sound is much much smaller than Rio but the enthusiam is real. Junkanoo begins at 7 pm on Christmas Day when the drumming starts. It's an African rhythm, very infectious. Then the cowbells chime in. That's the sound that gives Kalik beer its name. It's clearly an African tradition but all Whites are welcomed to join in. The costumed dancers parade up and down the main street all night long, dancing to the endless beat of the drums. By midnight some of the older folks start to wear down. The younger crowd can keep going strong until sunrise. Only the true, hardiest diehards last beyond sunup. Sally and I won't even make it to midinght but we'll be hearing it whether ashore or aboard.

This morning we took a bike ride out to the ocean beach. Along the way we saw a group of locals putting the finishing touches on their float for the parade. There's a judged competion between all the nearby towns. We'll be rooting for Rock Sound.

Merry Christmas, all.