The crab was a nice consolation for missing the Friday fish fry in Governor's Harbour. We had really wanted to go as several people had waxed poetic about the fish fry and gotten that wistful look of people had trying to describe a warm Krispy Creme donut to someone who had never tried one. It seemed impossible that it could meet our expectations. But, the wind didn't cooperate so we'll have to try the next time or next island.
Our sail to Rock Sound was fast and bumpy. Of course, local crabbing means crab pots to dodge. We were sailing right into the sun so we didn't see most of the floats until we were almost on top of them. It was like a mostly boring video game, punctuated by wild veering and a bit of swearing.
We were trolling 2 lines and kept getting fish on, but we were moving so fast--almost 9 knots--that the fish were getting dragged and bounced, cartwheeling off the waves as we tried to bring them in. We lost about 4 of them before we decided to head the boat up when we had a fish on so we could slow down to a reasonable 4 knots. We ended up with a cero mackerel and a half (the other half ended up in the stomach of maybe a shark or a big barracuda). We cooked them that night and have now placed cero high on our list of yummy fish.
Rock Sound has a couple of play lots with all the unsafe equipment of our childhood: steel merry-go-rounds, wooden teeter-totters a mile long, fast slides and swings that get you high enough to launch yourself 30 feet. It was a throwback to a time when fun won over liability issues. Mark and Conrad can't get enough. Of course, Mark skinned his hands and knees a good bit when we let him scooter down a long hill, so we're not necessarily the most protective (responsible?) parents out there.
We'll hang around this town for a bit while we figure out if the timing will work to return to Spanish Wells to get hauled out again and fix our keel.