One of our clients in the UK is Skanska. They know a thing or two about civil engineering, tunnels, buildings and bridges being part of their portfolio. They cropped up in our conversation as walked to a bridge in northern Eleuthera. The road bridge sits on a particularly narrow piece of land, the wild indigo Atlantic on one side, the protected translucent sea of Eleuthera on the other, the sea flowing under the bridge from blue to green. It’s a remarkable place. Said bridge connects the north of the island to the south along the regally named Queen’s Highway. And to be strictly accurate it also connects the south to the north for you pedants out there.
The reason we went to look at the bridge is a little while ago, a rogue wave hit it and the construction shunted in a south westerly direction around seven feet. The bridge now appears to be in a constant state of repair but it is in use, single file only. In an age where you don’t get much for nothing, its a road that comes with free jeopardy. Serves you right if you’re driving along looking aimlessly at your phone wondering if anyone has sent you a photo or message or a cute photo of a dancing polar bear in spotty dotty pink lycra and then oops, there’s no bridge, or road, only gravity.
I imagined the conversation between the civil engineer who did the sums based on the potential forces involved and his or her line manager. “Well the computer modelling said this. We didn’t account for a massive storm up near Hatteras sending pounding waves south or the explosion of internet polar bear photos.”
We’ve had some great sailing of late, mostly short distances and even our brief forays to windward have been enjoyable. The bays have almost exclusively delivered deep grabby sand and the anchor comes up pleasingly clean. It’s a small thing but it makes for a good start to the day when moving from one place to the next. No anchor cleaning.
Yesterday we went and found a cave near Hatchet Bay. Dave was able to return to his previous student life and scuttle off along side passages and down rickety ladders to a lower watery level. The cave was more substantial than we had expected, with what once would have been an impressive array of stalactites and stalagmites, sadly some now vandalised. It turned into a through trip. The exit was 15 or 20 feet up an old rope ships ladder. It was actually fine but climbing up it, I had no idea how substantial or immovable the rocks or trees or rope that provided the belay were going to be until I got to the top.
Still here so that was all okay.