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By Don Croft <email@example.com>
We picked a date to fly to Nassau and bought tickets from Chalk Airlines (a mistake), a small airline operating out of Florida. As the weather in the Bahamas had still not cleared, we asked them to change the date or give us a refund. They refused both, so I’m mentioning this as a warning to anyone who would be tempted to use their services.
We bought a portable diving compressor to take with us, since Carol’s vision of the underwater city was in water that was a little too deep for snorkeling comfortably.
On May 4, we bit the bullet and just flew to Nassau. The airline officials wouldn’t allow us to take the compressor because there was an odor of gasoline, though I’d carefully emptied the gas and oil from it the day before. The delay caused us to miss our connecting flight to South Andros Island, so we spent the night in a family hotel, which was very nice, in the city. These hotels have lower rates and cater to the visiting family members of the locals. We didn’t get too exercised about the delay and change of plans, since we knew that the Wingmakers always know what’s best and circumstances often change our plans and requirements.
South Andros Island
Norward Rahming is the Chief Counselor (kind of like mayor or governor) of South Andros Island. The alleged US government had built a docking facility at Kemps Bay, South Andros in the early 1980’s, during the construction of the secret base on the bottom of the Tongue of the Ocean about a hundred miles to the southeast (it’s 2,000 feet down and marked on all of the nautical charts). Mr Rahming acquired the buildings and land of the docking facilities afterward and established a boat building shop and marine service station. Anyone is free to use the dock without charge. He also built a small hotel near the dock and operates a guide service for foreign visitors who like to go after bonefish with local guides
I’d left our boat in Mr. Rahming’s boatyard and his son, Joel, who runs the yard and shop, had allowed me to repair the damage that I’d done to my boat when I landed on the reef a couple of times when motoring along the shore in January and to safely store the boat. My friend, Willy Smith, who is a commercial fisherman there, was at sea, but was due to return in a day or two. We had put the boat’s accessories, including the 8 hp Johnson outboard motor, in his dad’s storage shed 5 miles up the coast in Smith Hill. Willy was using the motor, having repaired it after I had allowed saltwater to dry in the carburetor. So we wouldn’t be going anywhere until he got back, and the rough sea conditions would have to change before we got in the boat for the 50 mile trip to the location Carol saw on the map in her vision.
Messages From The Heart
(Here’s a weird little aside [June, 2001]: we now have a small colony of ants in the Zapporium. I hadn’t given them much thought, but Carol said this morning, “Look how fast they’re moving!” and it’s true: they move as fast as spiders—about twice the speed of other ants their size. I asked Carol if there’s a queen in here, since they’ve been with us since we left Florida weeks ago. She said the queen was drawn to move in because she liked the 15Hz orgone field, which is quite strong because of the copper grid/crystal arrangement under the entire floor which is connected to a frequency generator. There are 7 large pyramid orgone generators over the cab and an orgone generator between each of the twelve large quartz crystals on the grid. We sometimes need to turn off the frequency generator to get to sleep but it generally prevents parasitic entities from entering or even reading our thoughts.)
(Back to the Andros Island a few weeks earlier:)
The Ties That Bind
I knew that ‘Abd’ul-Baha is among the Wingmakers from time to time. I have to say that I don’t know if the Wingmakers are even a cogent organization. I tend to think they are not and members come and go. The new paradigm does tend not to favor institutions.
I asked Carol if he had information for me. I got an image of him then. I don’t remember what I got from him in terms of information, but when he was done, Carol said he seemed to be waiting for something. I said “Does it have something to do with our living arrangement?” and Carol said, “Yes, and he’s got a smirk on his face.”
I asked if it would be more appropriate to marry Carol than to be shacking up with her and Carol said he nodded his head, smiled and left. So I proposed and she accepted (thankfully). We want to get married on Mt. Shasta during the summer solstice. During the ‘confirmation procedures’ there during the fall equinox, I’d first had the urge to marry Carol but I have to say that I’ve let my feelings that followed my experiences in two failed marriages override my integrity, though I was entirely devoted to Carol.
I just have an integral feeling that shacking up is contrary to universal law. My religion certainly doesn’t sanction it, but this feeling doesn’t seem to relate to morality. It’s more like an instinctive drive, like eagles and hawks have, to be committed to one mate.
Until I met and later fell in love with Carol I didn’t realize that for marriage to work, my partner needs to be as committed as I am. I don’t think that’s an issue with eagles and hawks, since they are instinctively committed to each other until death. There aren’t any fair weather mates among them.
I certainly don’t have a problem with anyone else’s living arrangements—to quote Seinfeld: Not that there’s anything WRONG with that!
I think the Wingmakers stopped me from bringing books, because we had to be quite inventive to find ways to pass the time.
The first morning on South Andros, we took a cab to Willy’s parents place and brought the boat stuff back to the hotel. I turned the boat upright, reassembled the rudder and overhauled everything that needed attention. At this point, all it needed was the motor. I kept a mast and sail on it for emergencies, but we’d need the motor to get our work done in a timely way.
The Bimini Vortex
I took the boat to Bimini in mid December during a stormy period. The 50 mile trip across the Gulf Stream from Miami to Bimini was very rough, but I didn’t even get my shoes wet. The next day on the Grand Bahamas Bank, though, was a little different. Due to the shallow water (6 to 20 feet), the seas were very close together and often breaking.
The Cruel Sea
I knew I didn’t have enough gas to reach Andros at that slow speed. I ran out of gas a couple of miles short of the island and dropped anchor in the calmer water there. Somehow I lost the anchor and woke up after I’d drifted several miles to the south. By this time I was so weary and soaked that I didn’t have the energy to put the mast and sail up, so I threw out the other anchor and tried to sleep. The short, steep waves kept breaking into the boat and I bailed constantly for a couple of days before it calmed down enough for me to get my wits together enough to raise the sail.
It was easy to reach the shore after that and sail up the coast toward a settlement, but the wind changed to the north. I found a sheltered spot and tied to some mangroves in order to get some good rest. The moon was full and the boat was left high on the beach by its tide—too high to launch until the proper moon phase allowed the tide to come high enough again.
I eventually decided to walk the 10 miles or so to Red Bay, the only settlement on the west side of the island, after a passing fisherman stopped to see if I was okay and told me where it was. It’s not on the chart I had, which was lost anyway when the boat got swamped.
I’m laughing now but I didn’t see the humor at the time (which is even funnier). Part of the fun of living on this planet is our interaction with elementals. They never take things as seriously as we do. Guy Murchie was fond of saying, “The heaviest star known to man is B-Sirius.”
60 Power Bars
When I reached Stancil Evans’ house in Red Bay at the end of the day-long march through intermittent mangrove swamps andalong beaches, he graciously offered to let me stay the night and to take me to the boat with some gas the next morning. He wouldn’t accept money, but he did accept the Terminators I offered. Bahamians are generally very open-minded. Stancil had helped many Cuban and Haitian refugees. His house is the first one on the road from the dock at Red Bay. Now he has a very good business arrangement with some Greek merchants who buy sponges and fish from him. They gave him a very nice ice maker—quite a commodity there.
The next morning I had a BM that made me feel like I was experiencing childbirth. Much later, Carol told me that the labels on the Power Bars state that you need to drink a lot of water when you eat one. I think the seismograph at the University of Florida recorded the landing of the Giant Turd in the Bahamas.
“ + Holing Da’ Hull on the Way to Kemps Bay + ”
I motored around the island and down the eastern shore to Kemps Bay in the next three days, meeting some very fine people along the way and trading zappers for hospitality.Being a little shy now about open water, I went along the shore in the coastal lagoon, which may have been ill advised, since I holed the hull in 7 places on the coral heads. The holes were in the compartments, so the boat was only half full of water.
I had stopped at one of the US facilities on North Andros that maintains the secret base. I didn’t know about the base yet, but I was struck by their sense of urgency in sending me on my way and the tight-lipped behavior of the civilians that I met there. The director was very kind and gave me copies of the portions of the charts that covered the Andros shoreline, but made it clear that I wasn’t supposed to be there.
I needed more cash to get back to Florida. While I was waiting for the Bank of the Bahamas in Kemps Bay to open (only open for three hours on Wednesday mornings), I was befriended by Willy Smith. Willy paid me the highest compliment when he told me “You have the soul of a black man!” He is the one who mentioned the underwater base. He didn’t know it was marked on the nautical charts.
I had planned to visit Cuba on that trip and wished to find a traditional healer I could donate the Crowd zapper to. An engineer told me that I could use the regular zapper circuit with a 12 volt car battery to zap up to a dozen people at a time and I felt this would be a terrific boon to the rural Cubans, as it would quickly cure every illness they were prone to. The Bahamians are a little too prosperous to use one, it seems to me, as they can afford to buy the single ones.
I was strongly warned not to go into Cuban waters without getting a visa first. One woman told me that her brother had drifted into those waters in a storm while fishing and he’s still in prison there.
Another reason I’m writing about this earlier Bahamas trip here (which only remotely relates to the Chembusting and HHg campaign) is to document Carol’s special skills. At the instant that the boat was swamped, Carol woke with a start and had a clear image of what was happening to me. She got out the chart and made an X on the exact location, about 5 miles southeast of the center of the vortex. Kashi, the Atlantean and sometime Wingmaker, who joined us on Mt. Shasta in September, went to her and said, “He’s crazy!”
Carol later told me that he’d been with me up until that point. I got back to Florida from that solo trip on January 12. Our last trip gave me the chance to take care of things I couldn’t attend to on the solo run, especially the Blue Holes of South Andros Island.