Monday, August 7, 2017

Bonus Spring Sail March 20 - June 5, 2017

Just like JC Penney we had a bonus spring sail.  We had hoped to sell Fly Away by spring and when we didn’t sell it, we decided to sail it.  Spring sailing, we have come to find out, is the best and most comfortable sailing. The weather is mild, so the seas and the anchorages are calm. No hurricanes, storms, no heavy winds, no becalming winds, just right.  And everything followed – the water was calm and clear, the exploring more comfortable, sleeping was great, cooking was cooler, and relaxing in the cockpit was better.

We had three big adventures on this sail from March to June 2017.  We had a Cuban refugee stowaway, sailboat wrecks (2), and found a huge anchor.  Then we had typical adventures, still wonderful, a shark encounter during a loggerhead turtle encounter, friendly folks from Colorado Springs with a bright red parachute spinnaker, and unexpected buddy boating friends from last year.

In our last days on Cay Sal Island before we headed to Marathon and back to St. Petersburg, we had a Cuban racing pigeon land on our decks, our only Cuban refugee this trip. We shewed it off, but it returned and indicated it wanted to stay. It had a yellow leg band with Cuba 2012, some initials and a 6-digit number.
  
Gui, Cuban racing pigeon with its leg band

We checked with our friends stateside who checked on the internet, and found that Cuban racing pigeons are great sport there, but since Cuba doesn’t have internet access there were no records online and we couldn’t find it’s owner. We found that racing pigeons cannot exist on their own, and must have human support for food, water, and shelter to survive. Friends sent us information on what and how much racing pigeons eat – you feed them once a day if you race them, twice a day if they are squab!  Nuts, cracked corn, grits, rice (not too much), sunflower seeds (unsalted) were the basic foods.  

Once we decided to welcome the bird, we named it Gui, Spanish for guide, go figure, since it apparently got lost in a race, perhaps blown off course in a storm.  D took a container that stored some of our canvas and cut vents in it to make Gui a coop.  He put a perch and water and food dishes in it. Gui went right in her new home and napped immediately.  She was home!  Each day at sunrise, about 6:30 am, Gui flew to our boat and each evening about 4-5 pm she would fly to a wrecked sailboat on shore to roost in its top open lazarette. She was a beautiful flyer, wings swept back and so fast. She regained her health but did not fly back to Cuba as we were expecting her to do.  That’s what racing pigeons do, return home, according to their GPS and training.  So what to do? We’re leaving. She couldn’t survive on her own. The island had no fresh water, she couldn’t find food on her own, and there were no other companions.  

When she flew to her coop the next morning, we closed the door and departed for Marathon.  She was a good sailor and traveler.  In Marathon, we bought her a two story cage and decked it out with swimming pool to splash in, put in real pigeon food, oyster shell grit for digesting food, and water trays. It had a raised bottom that poop went through and was easier to clean.  Now what to do?  There were people and groups who rescued Cuban racing pigeons in the Keys, brought them back to health, and released them to return to Cuba. Gui didn’t want to go to Cuba or she would have gone when we were 30 miles off Cuba, now we are 100 miles from Cuba.  Marathon had fresh water and lots of pigeons that looked like Gui, but we decided to take her to St. Petersburg and Orlando and see about retraining her for a new home and change her GPS.  Once again, she traveled well, but she really wanted to fly, and it was difficult to see her caged.  

In Orlando D found there were 2 racing pigeon clubs, and he knew people in both of them!  Not only that but there was a big race in Spring Hill, Florida, June 24, with 1500 pigeons racing from a point north.  They were trucked up north in cages, released, and returned to their home cages which triggered a timer to turn into the race officials.  The purse was $1,000,000!!  Pigeon racing is big!  Who knew?! 

D found a man who retired from racing pigeons and now just showed them and had them as pets. His name was Fred and he was from Puerto Rico, so he could speak Gui’s language.  He offered to take Gui.  That’s when we found out that Gui was a ‘he.’ Oops.  Fred said he would work with Gui to retrain him and reset his GPS and then be free to fly and safely return.  The strategy was to mate Gui with a female and have a brood. Once the family is created, Gui would have an incentive to come home as racing pigeons apparently mate for life.  This would take a while, and is in the process now.

La Vie, St. Petersburg, on the beach of Cay Sal Island, Bahamas

The wrecked sailboat that was Gui’s roost on Cay Sal Island had washed ashore on our favorite beach. It was La Vie from St. Petersburg.  It lost its keel, rudder, and the propeller blades were bent back.  The mast had crashed through the deck and sand had filled the boat making it crack open in 3 places.  

We found out later that it was an O’day 37, a lovely center cockpit sailboat. I took pictures hoping to return to St. Petersburg and find the owners and hear their story. We suspected that a storm broke loose their anchor and washed them ashore while they desperately tried to motor off, hence the bottom damage. I especially wanted to know about the rescue from the deserted island.  

We traced the boat on the internet to the St. Petersburg to Havana Race and it said the owner was Martin Saveedra out of the Boca Ciega Yacht Club.  We called him and talked with Janice Saveedra, his wife, and the story was so much more amazing than we knew and could imagine.  

Martin had sailed La Vie in the St. Petersburg to Havana Race and on his way back, just a few miles from Key West, one of his crew members had a medical emergency and had gone into diabetic shock. When Martin tried to turn the engine on, it failed, bad gas from Cuba in his opinion.  Then in very rough seas he went to raise the main sail and lines became tangled and the sail flapped out of control, and he cut the halyard.  Now he had no motor, no main sail, just a jib, so he called for a tow.  The towing company would not work in the rough seas and advised him to call the US Coast Guard for a rescue. By now the sun was setting and the boat had drifted more miles off shore. The USCG advised him that when they were rescued they would have to abandon the ship. That’s how Martin last saw his sailboat, adrift with lights still on, in the Straits of Florida.  How hard is that? 

We came to find out that Martin was quite a celebrity in the race.  Having been born in Cuba, he was a part of the Peter Pan program where Cuban parents sent their children to the US when Castro came into control. Parents who hoped to be reunited one day with their children, but that has to be hard!  Luckily for Martin, who was 12, and his sister, his uncle claimed them in Miami, and his parents joined them several months later. 

So in this race Martin was one of the first Cuban born American citizens to return legally to Cuba.  He was held in immigration for 5 hours, missing the race party.  His wife and children had come to Cuba to see him and his birth country.  She told the race committee of his detention and the Commodore went and was able to retrieve him.  They traveled around Cuba always under observation.  He and his family and visited his old home that now housed 3 families and saw the business building in Havana where his father worked. 

It was an emotional visit for him.   It was an emotional trip back.  Martin appreciated that the Cuban racing pigeon found refuge on his boat.


Bella, Savannah, in a cove on Anguilla, Cay Sal Bank, Bahamas

The other wrecked boat, Bella, out of Savannah, Georgia, was on the northeast rocky shore of Anguilla, located on the southeast corner of Cay Sal Bank. It was a recent wreck, the foodstuff was unspoiled, a package of lunch meat was still good. The front of the sailboat was sheared off leaving only the stern sideways in the cove. The mast laid beside the stern with the main sail still up the mast. The inflatable dinghy was still inflated and tied to the mast. Where were captain and crew? There were 16-5 gallon fuel containers strewn throughout the small cove, along with pieces of the interior of the boat; cushions, bulk heads, cabinetry. 

We hauled the fuel up to the ridge hopefully protecting the water from fuel contamination. Later when the USCG flew over we reported it. The USCG was unaware of the wreck and initiated an investigation. We learned that they investigated but were unable to share the findings due to privacy, so hopefully the captain survived.  We continue to search for the owner of Bella. 

8'4" x 6' Anchor 200 feet off Cay Sal Island in 10 feet of water

The last adventure started with a huge catamaran appearing around the end of Cay Sal Island late one afternoon. It was a Lagoon 45 named Karis, with a 72 foot high mast flying a bright red parachute spinnaker.  Imagine this, a bright red sail emerging from behind the island with deep blue skies in the back ground, brilliant white sand on the beach with green palm trees in front of the boat.  It was spectacular. We met Mike and Carla and spent the next 3 days exploring the island and enjoying sunsets and cocktails on their spacious boat. Their boat Karis was named for the Greek goddess for grace. They told us about a huge anchor below their boat, so we explored and wow, it was huge. 

D and I measured it with line – 8’4” from top to bottom, 6’0” tip of fluke to tip, and 24” circumference of the shank.  We estimated it weighed close to 2,000 pounds. It was about 200 feet offshore in 10 feet of water. How did an anchor that size get there? Where is the boat big enough to carry that anchor?  It’s a mystery! D spent a lot of time figuring out how to float and recover this artifact. How many 55 gallon barrels would it take to float it? 5. We think.


This is the final blog for Fly Away.  It was sold July 24, 2017 to a couple who plan to live aboard and cruise which is a very happy ending for D and me.  We hope they enjoy sailing and have grand adventures cruising.

   

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Cay Sal Bank Crossing and Circumnavigating Anguilla

Bahamian Defense Force cutter at sunset the night before we depart
near Duncan Town, Ragged Island

BDF cutter still anchored the next morning as we depart Ragged Island
We sail off the anchor and do not motor the entire journey

 It is calm and the Bahamian Defense Force cutter is still anchored off in the distance next to Duncan Town, Ragged Island, in the same place as when the sun set.  We swing to the north but the anchor rode drops limply into the water. I meditate in the stillness – no breeze – and feel the warm sun on my right check and side. I love this and don’t want it to end. D soon gets up and I hear him getting ready for the day. I feel the breeze just start, from the north and the wind generator starts to turn, the wind is freshening! It’s after 8 am but D says let’s go now.

I hesitate. I want to make sure the weather is uninterrupted perfect window which is supposed to start tomorrow. I do not want to be lulled in a lack of wind. We do not want to motor. Once I am convinced this freshening wind is the end of the front, I am happy and excited to go.  D is ecstatic, too. We sail off the anchor and leave the Ragged Islands by 9 am.  

Captain D and Otto sail in perfect conditions
The sail will take 3 days and 2 nights

Barracuda caught on handline
D caught 5 in one day, lost one lure
We will get edible fish in Cay Sal

The first 15 miles are on the banks in less than 35 feet. Then the depths drop to 600+ - - - 3,000 feet!  The water in 35 feet is so clear you can see bottom white sand and black coral rocks speed by as we go 5+ knots. The color deepens as the depths. We have water 360 degrees and no other boats or land. The seas are calm, wind freshens north 10-15 and we carry jib and full main at 6+ knots.  We will cross another bank in about 15 nm. The total distance is about 230 nm.  It will take us 3 days and 2 nights non stop to cross to Cay Sal Banks and the first island, Anguilla.   By lunch time we have come about 20 miles.

All sailing perfection – the right wind, the right direction, the right current, the right seas.  D and I take turns at the helm. With the steady winds and calm seas, there is little adjusting of sails. We had one incident hoisting the main, D looped the deck light on the mast and ripped it off. D stabilized it so it didn’t bang the mast. I fix turkey and cheese on Maxine’s bread for lunch after we snacked on banana moon pies. We are sailing 272 degrees or due west with the wind north and ahead of the beam, apparent wind. The sun is at our back in the mornings so we have our sunshade up behind us. The dinghy is silent in its davits, probably relieved not to be drug behind. We have wind, shade and nice temperatures – perfection.  Autohelm (Otto) does a great job.

We discuss reefing main at night for comfort. The solar panels are productive as the sun rises. The wind gen is generating 3-5 amperes. The voltage runs 13.3V maintaining refrigerator, electronics, autohelm. We need to maintain 12.6V after dark. At 2:15 pm I spot a boat behind us and as it nears I take a zoom picture – we think it’s the Bahamian Defense Force cutter!  Oh no, we may get boarded, oh well, it will be interesting. At 2:30 pm it turns around and heads away. All that angst or “harshing my mellow” (Kansas and Will novel) gone. We see another vessel about 4 pm and as we get closer we see it’s at anchor. It has all kinds of fancy equipment. It’s about 100 feet long.  We determine it is probably a salvage or research boat. A dinghy leaves it and runs around. You never know what you’ll find.

D get the fishing gear out and trolls 3 hand lines. He catches 5! Huge barracuda and releases them all – lost one lure. Seas are 3 feet and I decide to cook – noodle pasta, pre-made alfredo sauce, and canned chicken in one pot.  I gimble the stove by removing the stabilizer pin, and when boiling water underway I stand in the salon and cook over the seats – it goes well. 

Research or salvage vessel
You never know what you are going to see underway

Day 1 is done, mainsail is reefed for night sailing, we maintain 5 knots

Early morning day 2 brings us Cayos Lobos
The USCG ship left just before dawn

Sunrise and Cayos Lobos lighthouse
We sailed 125 nm in 24 hours, over 5 knot average

Day 3 we are about 15 nm from Anguilla

We watch sun set in the clouds and it gets very dark but we are in deep water, not to worry. The clouds obscure the stars as I take first watch 9-12 midnight. The moon rises behind the clouds and sets a glow everywhere. I watch the phosphorescence behind and beside the boat. I see no other boats and its black out. D gets up at 11 pm and starts the watch early.  Before sunset we reefed the main and once again reefed it to double reef. We still maintain 5 knots. The wind is shifting east behind us and waves are rocking us. In 40 miles we’ll turn northwest and this will be fine. Meanwhile we sail to the jib trim and go fast. We don’t go under 5 knots! 

I lay down below in D’s bed that made up, but don’t sleep. I don’t want to miss anything! I hear everything – D adjusting sails, waves slapping side of the boat, autohelm squeaking. But it’s restful and I hop up at 4 am ready to as D calls me. There is one boat in a channel about 3-5 miles away on our port stern. It slowly passes us. At 4:55 am I see bright white lights ahead. Then a high/low light of a freighter as we approach the white light, I can see it  is not moving and there is a dark mass behind it – It’s Cayos Lobos! lighthouse with a USCG cutter anchored nearby with all its lights on. Day breaks and I get a picture of Cayos Lobos and its light house that doesn’t work. The cutter motors away starting its day, too.  We text everyone our location – so close to Cuba, so isolated!  

It’s hard to tell when day ends and when it begins on a nonstop sailboat cruise. We sailed 125 nm in 24 hours! 5.2 knots average. Glorious!  We start to see several boats – a ketch headed north in front of us, maybe going up west coast Andros. Two matching cruise ships pass closely in the designated shipping lanes of the Old Bahama Channel or Canal Viego de Bahama. Its two-way channel on the charts. We never see land of Cuba nor big city lights. So close yet … not this time. The wind, seas, and current continue to work in our favor and at this rate, we should anchor some time tomorrow. We have not motored at all! We follow the bank line for calmer seas. The wind is east 10-15 knots and our direction is west northwest 300 degrees.  So the wind is 30 degrees off stern which is hard to sail with a fin keel.  The boat wants to wallow.  The waves lift the stern and turn us on the keel and we roll, or wallow.  We maintain 4-5 knots and Otto does a good job in the calmer seas. Our double reefed main is not helping; it is blocking air from the jib so we take the main down. It’s good to plow though waves, but when waves are behind, no plowing needed! We go from 600+ feet deep to 25 feet. The water changes back and forth deep cobalt to azure blue. Our depth reader reads up to 417 feet and then goes blank.

D runs hand lines all day – some bites, one barracuda. We’ll get eating fish in the Cay Sal Bank.  We had fruit for breakfast, peanut butter and jelly for lunch, and before sunset I’II make angel hair pasta and tomato sauce mixing leftover spaghetti sauce with olives and mushrooms.  We settle in – I watch till 12:30 am, D to 4:30 am, then me again. My watches were beautiful, solitary, and uneventful. I watched phosphorescence and the glow of cities in Cuba. I see an airport light radiating but no planes landing or taking off that I could see. It’s cool so I bundle in a sweatshirt and cover with a blanket. I lay in all parts of the boat to watch stars – Orion in the west setting, Big Dipper to the northeast, and the glorious Great Arc of Sirius, which holds 5 of the brightest stars, magnitude 1, Sirius, Procyon, Pollux, Castor, and Capella. These bright stars form the constellations Big Dog (Sirius), Little Dog (Procyon), Gemini Twins (Pollux and Castor), and Charioteer (Capella).  D, on the other hand, goes between 2 cruise ships in the Santaren Channel. He has to call the second on the VHF radio. The big ship acknowledges and diverts course around us!!  We check the Automated Identification System (AIS) at 30 minute intervals but I see no boat activity. I sleep really well, putting on pajamas, brushing teeth, and everything, so rested at 4:30 am to take over watch – the sun rises … 15 nm to go.



One of the many mini coves of Anguilla
Anguilla is 7 miles long and narrow, with 3 main cays and lots of rocks

One of the rocky points of Anguilla

Two turtles mating and swimming, it's that time of year

Another beautiful day, day 3, underway. Jib is pulling, wind is east 10-15 knots. Blue skies and sunny with a few puffy white clouds. I get text from Jean at 11 pm last night and 6:30 am this morning. I think she is enjoying arm chair sailing!  I make coffee ad journal some. It’s sad our perfect crossing is almost over. It’s sad all new areas to explore on this cruise is over. It’s still fabulous that we have many more fabulous days – Anguilla, Cay Sal, Elbow Cay, and on to Marathon.  We sail and sail and sail – Land is 8 nm out about 9 am. It’s exciting to see land.

We sail past the south island it many mini-coves and beaches and coral rock jetties Anguilla is about 7 miles long and just ¼ mile across.  It has 3 main cays and lots of little islands and rocks. We come to the first gap where Jeff and D sailed Fly Away in 2006. They had west winds and anchored on the east side with long beautiful beaches. We sail past the middle cay and start up the north Anguilla Cay. We look for a lunch anchorage. We see a turtle, no 2 turtles, in the water, mating, swimming, and splashing at the surface. We anchor in 24 feet and sand in a little rocky cove. I cook brunch – Fried eggs, grits, toast and corn beef – a hot feast!

We head through the gap and up north to circumnavigate and check out any little anchorages. At the north tip we see skiffs – sunlight reflecting off windshield and then a big boat anchored and a skiff headed our way with 2 fishermen.  We prepare to protect ourselves, just in the unlikely event they mean to do us harm, but they are 2 jovial Bahamian fishermen, Delroy and Jaden. Wanted to know if we had epoxy – a part on their compressor broke. D said no, but he gave them some gorilla glue. We circle the north tip and sail down past their boat. They brought us a bag of conch – 29! I later count and am able to return all but a dozen for conch salad and fried conch. 

We sail beyond and find a sexy little cove on north Anguilla. We anchored, D adjusted for swell and it was so calm and cool – a real treat. We shower really well. Change linens – oh, yeah, big deal! What a treat!  We are going to sleep well tonight.  I heat leftovers – potato soup, spaghetti and have egg salad on crackers. We enjoy dark evening in the cockpit but we are ever so tired we go to bed.

Things that go bump in the night. D gets up a couple of times – to go on deck to check for whatever.  Then I heard a bump on the hull of the boat?! I go up in cockpit with flashlight and D goes on deck with flashlight. I see the wheel turn – something is hitting the rudder! D shines his light – it’s a huge turtle, a loggerhead. It comes up for air, a big gulp, and submerges. We can see it clearly in the clear water with our flashlights. We chase it off but it returns throughout the night, and nights after that, and I see its marks on the bottom the next day.  D thinks it loves our boat and is being amorous. 

What a great night’s sleep. I don’t get up till 8! We are in calm anchorage in Northern Cay of Anguilla. Winds are steady east 10-15 nots, cool temperatures, sunny, hot in sun. There is a swell from the south so D has put a bridle on the anchor line so the boat faces into the swell minimizing the rolling motion.  
We sail up the coast of Anguilla


Lunch is a feast after our crossing - fried eggs and gritss 

Oh, no! we see skiffs and a Bahamian fisher boat
They leave the next day and the island is ours!
Distant anchorages and deserted islands

We carefully pick our harbor and anchor

The view south of our anchorage


The fisherman give us conch and snapper

Another great adventure!

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Duncan Town, Ragged Islands

Mid April we sail from Raccoon Cay to the Ragged Island and spend time in Duncan Town, the only inhabited town in the Jumentos Cays. Even though it does not provide water, fuel, food for cruisers, we find the fisherwoman, Maxine, runs a store, and will arrange for small amounts of gas and diesel from her stock and her relatives personal stock to top us off for our crossing. She is a very busy person - fishes, runs a store, dries conch for Nassau and Eleuthera, and has a beautiful 40 year old daughter in the hospital in Nassau that she visits and plans to take to Cuba for a brain operation.

D sits on porch and talks with Daniel, Maxine's fishing partner
They are waiting for Phicol 
We find the people of Duncan Town to be the most industrious of all the islands we have visited. It is the end of the island chain - the next island is 62 nm south, Cuba! So they must be self sufficient. The mailboat delivers food, supplies, and fuel to individual houses!  We see the pick up trucks running from the mail boat to deliver all the goods. Flo Hepburn bakes bread for cruisers, but you must order it one day and pick up another day.

Phicol Wallace arrives and syphons diesel from his personal stock
He  and his wife, Erica, run charters, hotel, restaurant and he is the utilities guy, too
Good man to know!


We saw lots of goats and a huge pen and farm near the salt ponds.


Maxine and her husband, the preacher, clean, pound and dry conch
to ship to Nassau and Eleuthera

Dried conch process -  2 pounded conch tied with thatch palm lashings
Surprisingly, no flies or smell

Salt accumulates on the edges of rocks. Doesn't it look like frost?
We see barrels of salt in this operational salt pond.
We do not see anyone working it while we are there. 

The beautiful symmetry of the salt ponds

Rows of rocks to increase production of salt pond

A walking path through the salt pond

Overview of the canal into Duncan Town.
We time our speed in our dinghy at close to 20 mph.
We slow to see mounds of conch shells, fish, small sharks.
The canal to Duncan Town is long and narrow.
Only for small boats and dinghies. 

First view of Duncan Town, an industrious small town on Ragged Island
The water is a disappointing green and looks like our Gulf of Mexico. We stay in the Southside Harbor as the weather becomes rough with a front passing south of us. Our next destination is Cay Sal Bank, 230 nm crossing, so we must be safe and get a good weather window for 3-4 days.

From our anchorage we see several planes land at the airport
Here is a Bahamian Air Defense plane. 

D walks the empty airstrip
Notice the air scoop and lights in the ground.

Welcome to the Ragged Island! Airport terminal, open 24/7

We are always on the look for coconuts 

A resident has several wrecked boats and is famous
for a plane on the roof of a former restaurant.

We hike from the anchorage over the hill to Duncan Town to pick up bread and supplies.

Unique island homes in Duncan Town

Another islandy home
notice the shells and palm fronds

View from the hill overlooking Duncan Town
salt pond and the rough Atlantic Ocean
Ragged Island is the furthest point south of our trip.  From now on, we will be heading back home, which saddens me, but the best is yet to come!  The incredible crossing to and solitude of Cay Sal Banks!

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Raccoon Cay, Jumentos Cays

In April 2016 we leave Flamingo Cay and sail past several small cays in beautifully clear, coral laden waters. Winds are great and we sail with the wind, 36 nautical miles in 7 hours, averaging 5 knots. We don't see other boats, the world is ours! We sail past Buena Vista where we see a man working under a tree - we meet him, Edward, at the local bar in Duncan Town, but for now we are amazed someone is living on this deserted island in the small chain of Jumentos Cays.  He was quite a character. He lost his boat when his son didn't secure it once in Nassau, and he now commutes whenever he can, whenever someone stops by and gives him a lift. Amazing.

Sailing past a string of islands in clear coral laden water

We capture this picture of a resident on 'uninhabited' Buena Vista Cay

We anchor alone for 2 nights on this deserted island, and find a blue hole, small goat tracks, mushroom rocks, sandy beaches, a fisherwoman with a Nassau grouper, conch, predator shark, all on Raccoon Cay.  The sky is blue with a few puffy white clouds, it's paradise. We watch the 1/2 moon transit the sky.

Raccoon Cay is long with white sandy beaches and lush trailless hills of green. We hear goats, see their tracks, but never see them. We plan to stay one day, but it stretches to 2 as we find so much to explore and the weather forecasts are favorable for staying, and we will still be able to sail south safely to Ragged Islands, our next destination. The forecast is perfect for the next 7 days - calm, 10 knots NE, no lows, no fronts. It's a freeing feeling to go or stay - sailing open ended.



Sailing into the anchorage of Raccoon Cay
Note the white sandy beach and lush green hills

We hiked along the beach - it's paradise
Low tide exposes this mushroom rock


Open sand area inland reveals goats tracks

Very small goat tracks
We saw tracks and heard goat calls, but never saw the small goats

Blue hole near Beacon Hill on Raccoon Cay



D instructs on cleaning conch - the tools, the technique
Two sharks appear as D cleans the conch on the shore

Fishers Maxine and Daniel give us this Nassau grouper
We meet Maxine later in Duncan Town

D makes boneless grouper filets to grill 

Grilled grouper and rice with sauteed mushrooms, celery, onion, and pine nuts