Skinny Bahamian water is best tackled with the sunlight behind your shoulder. Unfortunately, after running five hours from Spanish Cay, the only light in the sky was the static-electric sort. Less than a yard into the channel, black clouds and lightning engulfed us and the rain became so thick I could not see our 13 Whaler in tow. Of course, I had no choice but to proceed as the tide was falling and anchoring was impossible-timing is everything! As I yawed down what I hoped was the channel, I avoided looking at the depth sounder as its report was discouraging. Even with the radar's rain clutter pegged, I was engulfed in a red ball so I posted a lookout to keep an eye out for anyone foolish enough to have found themselves in the same spot. Virtually blind, I was left with only Anhinga's primary GPS/plotter and a hand-held backup. While both are painfully accurate, the cartography available in the Bahamas predates Admiral Nelson. What's more, each unit relied on a different chart system and offered a different suggestion as to the best course of action. I split the difference by wiggling the autopilot knob in the hopes of avoiding electrocution via Anhinga's stainless steel wheel. Frankly, I was somewhat surprised and more than slightly relieved when the sounder confirmed that we had cleared the bank.