Trouble In Paradise

Well it had to happen. We were having just too good of a time. The trouble? Midges. Sand Fleas. Those mythical “no-see-ums” that my mom used to talk about.  I always used to roll my eyes when she talked about them, the way kids do when they think they know better than their parents. Turns out no-see-ums aren’t a myth. At least not here in the Bahamas.

We left Honeymoon Harbor after three glorious days, the last of which included a close-up snorkel sighting of three enormous manta rays. They were white on their undersides, and black with white polka dots above. The trio moved steadily across our path, slowly waving their fins like birds’ wings, looking like a set of giant alien space ships moving across a starlit sky. Wow. That could be the most incredible thing we see this whole Bahamas trip.

Then we took a magical overnight voyage across the Great Bahama Bank towards Chub Cay. The Bank is a relatively shallow stretch of ocean, an undersea plateau that rises from 2000 feet deep to about 15 feet, and stretches over 70 odd miles between the Biminis and the Berry Islands, some 35 miles north of Nassau.  Normally, cruisers will wait for a good south or westerly wind to make this passage, but the forecast didn’t look like we would get that for some time. We chose to cross with almost no wind and just use the engine. Rick wasn’t looking forward to another long slog with no actual sailing, but it turned out to be an impossibly beautiful passage, mainly because of the lack of wind. The water was still and mirror-like, clear enough to see the white sandy bottom. We didn’t see much in the way of wildlife, but the occasional starfish was easy to spot from the deck of the boat.

In fact, it was so shallow, and so calm, we even anchored for the night right in the middle of the Bank, forty miles and completely out of sight from the nearest land.

Arriving in the Berry Islands, we anchored at Frazers Hog Cay, a virtually uninhabited island just next to Chub Cay. We went ashore to explore the little sand beach, and discovered a charming marshy sand bog just inland a few feet. Surrounded by bushes, it was difficult to get a good look, but we could hear birds calling to one another. After a little walking around, we decided it was getting late, and it was just a bit too buggy, so we retreated back to the boat for our traditional cocktail hour. The water was glassy and transparent, and it made a beautiful backdrop for the sunset. The lack of wind should have been an ominous first warning sign, but we were blissfully ignorant.

Midges – or “Mingies” as Rick learned to call them in Maine – are teeny tiny flies that bite and draw blood like mosquitoes. Also like skeets, their bites produce itchy welts. These bites tend to be much itchier though, and can last up to two weeks. The victim usually doesn’t see the culprit because they are so small. Welts seem to appear out of nowhere. Who is biting me?!!

These little demons come out looking for a drink just before dusk, their own version of the cocktail hour. They are attracted to light, and are too small to be stopped by the usual mesh of common screens. The one vulnerability they have is that they are weak flyers. A good breeze is enough to keep them on shore. But after several days with no wind at all, our boat was a sitting duck for invading midges. All of our ports and hatches were open, and we had on all of our lights. “Come on in, dinner is served!”

The thing is, “dinner” turned out to be on me. Literally. Those buggers really went after me, but left Rick completely untouched. I suppose my soft pink flesh is just more tempting than Rick’s tough hairy hide. Or maybe I just smell better? But after a week without real showers, both of us are probably equally ripe, so I doubt that could be the deciding factor. Whatever the reason, by morning I was covered in bites. Rick tells me that he was getting bitten all night long (“Really, I was!”), but for some reason he doesn’t swell up with the itchy welts like I do. Likely story.

My Forearm After a Midge Meal

We moved the boat farther away from Frazers Hog Cay to try and get some relief. I don’t know who Frazer was, but I feel sorry for his hog who surely got bit too. We closed the hatches and ports to keep out any new predators, but of course we still had a boat load left from the previous night. We ended up penning all the little suckers right in there with us. Or, to be more exact, with me.

Today I counted over ninety bites… and that was just on my left leg alone! The itchiness is enough to drive one insane. I’m downing Benadryl like candy.

I tried a brief internet search on what to do about no-see-ums, but I’m sorry to say, the info I got is not encouraging. The usual mosquito repellants don’t work on these critters, but apparently some people have had luck with repellants that contain a high concentration of DEET. Of course that’s not what we have on board. Some online person suggested covering your entire body in Vaseline. Somehow, I think that’s the solution for a different kind of itch.

Midges are everywhere in the Bahamas. If we can’t figure out how to control them, our year on the boat will be in serious jeopardy.  I can not keep providing free meals for all of those bugs. I'm afraid Rick might just be continuing our great adventure all by himself!