Besides being unable to sail, there’s a major downside to dead calm conditions in the Bahamas. Initially we loved the unusual tranquility – never had either of us seen the ocean so clear and so still. We enjoyed ourselves immensely for a good solid ten hours or so, then it all went bad. Real bad.

But let me tell you about the good part – the immensely enjoyed part – first.

We left Staniel Cay on May 6th (didn’t go too crazy at the Cinco de Mayo party the night before and we had turned in early). Conditions were unusually calm. Dead calm. No wind at all, so the Exuma Banks were like a gigantic swimming pool.

We didn’t go too far because we were keen to go swimming in the gigantic pool and decided to stop in an unnamed (at least it’s unnamed on our chart) cove on the west side of Pipe Cay.

We anchored then hopped right in…

A few more sights from the gigantic swimming pool…

So we snorkeled around for quite a while, checked out the deserted beach, then made our way back to the boat.

We were just a little bit tired from all the snorkeling; we felt like we got some sun (but not too much); we were still fascinated by the giant swimming pool; and then we enjoyed a nice dinner. I don’t know if I’ve never used the word idyllic to describe a day in my life before, but May 6th really was truly idyllic. Until the nightmare began.

Having had troubles with mosquitoes in calm winds, we put the screens over the hatches and companionway before we sat down for supper around 8 or so. We had a nice dinner and went to bed.

We woke up not long after to the sharp pain of noseeum bites. It’s unmistakable. I think I’ve told you, but I’d take mosquitoes over noseeums any day. It seemed like there were a hundred of them in the boat. They were so small, they got through our screens and we couldn’t hunt them down and rid ourselves of them – we knew they were there only when they took a chunk out of us.

I was ready to lose it – after closing the ports (since the screens were ineffective), sweltering, and still getting munched, I tried hiding under my blanket, but I had to breathe, so they bit my face. I directed a fan at my exposed face, which helped until they found refuge from the breeze behind my ears and in my hair.

About the time I was starting to think that jumping in the water with a bug net on my head was a viable alternative, I went in search of the DEET. I never use it – if it’s deadly to bugs, I figure it can’t be great to put on your skin – but I thought this once won’t poison me too much. I knew each noseeum bite meant at least three days of itchy, oozy pain so I slathered it on. But they were undeterred, and I spent a miserable night becoming skilled at killing noseeums as they bit me. I even got good at feeling them land, which you might find impressive if you saw how small the little devils are.

Phill even got bit that night (mostly around his feet). Normally he’s safe if I’m around for bait. He compares the itch to poison ivy – to which he’s very susceptible.

We were both itchy for three or four days – we’d try to help each other to not scratch. We even started our own Don’t Scratch Support Group. When we’d catch the other scratching we’d say “Hands up!” or “It only makes it worse!“. It helped because you can really trance-out scratching noseeum bites. It’s unconcious, and you just scratch and scratch, so our little support group helped.

So much so, that we’re scab-free today, ten days later.*

* the itch only really lasts 3 days or so, but if you scratch it lasts longer, and you get sores that ooze and sting when the salt water gets on them, so it pays to not scratch.