Blood and Guts

     Finally in Nassau, Bahamas (as of Jan 26) after a long and rough crossing of the Gulf Stream.  Our boat carries the marks of the highs and lows of the trip.
     First the lows.  Guts commemorates the state of my stomach after hours of pounding into waves.  It was just about midnight when we "pulled over" (never knew you could "pull over" in the ocean like you can on the highway when you need a rest) onto a shallow area created by an underwater reef.  Even though we were already into calmer water my stomach signaled suddenly that it was time to purge. I unzipped the enclosure and poked my head out over the side of the boat.  Despite my agony I was aware we were passing behind a small sailboat anchored there. At the peak of my performance  I wondered briefly if the people on that sailboat saw me. I didn't care but I did wonder.  Our boat now has a slight pink tinge from the cherry flavored gravol I'd chewed earlier.  Not as effective as I'd like Gravol to be.
     Now the highs.  Blood commemorates the dorado fish D hooked.  Just as we slipped out of the cozy anchorage at Palm Beach Florida at 5:30 that morning D said "I hope we catch some fish". His wish was answered about an hour later when a beautiful Dorado latched onto the hook.  Green bodies, yellow fins and irridescent all over.  They are also called mahi mahi and dolphin. Not to be confused with the mammal dolphin, though. 

     The fish spatters are much worse!  Lots of blood.  The fish took many blows to the head from the short metal bat D uses as a fish bonker before it accepted its fate as our dinner. 
   This picture doesn't really show the carnage but maybe that's for the best.