Author: Lindsey Coletta

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Last 3 Weeks in Paradise: 25 Bahamas Experiences

Disclaimer: Since it is hurricane season, we wanted to clarify that our boat is safely stored at an inland marina in Florida. This post covers our Bahamas adventures back in May. We’ll update you on the current situation soon!

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After leaving Grand Cay in March, most of our travel decisions were based on the idea of revisiting that particular island.  It is a jump-off point for scuba diving at Walkers Cay, which is supposed to be one of the best dive sites in the Bahamas. We’d provision and start to head north, only to realize we weren’t going to get a clear enough stretch of weather to make us feel good about venturing back into the more remote, less protected northern Abacos.

Once again, we were facing a nasty forecast in 3-6 days, so we decided we’d head south to provision in Marsh Harbour and then attempt to make it to Grand Cay. Ah, the sailing life – where it’s normal to turn grocery shopping into a multi-day adventure.

Spoiler alert: We never made it to Grand Cay! However these few weeks were the best of the trip. Here are 25 experiences from those weeks (in generally chronological order):

  1. We tried our Monitor windvane for the first time ever.  Can we say – WOW!
    The Monitor at work behind Paul

    The windvane is essentially an autopilot – it’s a wing on the back of the boat that you angle into the wind and connect to the steering wheel, and it steers for you. People told us we would love it, but really, wow! Normally this would be used in open sea to allow you to focus on tasks other than steering or to just take a break, but we continued to watch our course carefully and frequently adjusted the windvane since we were in a narrow area. It was just so cool to see it working!

  2. We had the most gorgeous day of sailing.  It was the only time in the Bahamas that we put up both foresails. Weather was sunny and beautiful. The water was paradise blue.

    This photo is from the day before…. only 1 sail up then haha

    We sailed at 5+ knots the whole time. The swell across Whale Channel was perfectly timed for a comfortable ride. It was a great reminder why having a sailboat is amazing!

  3. Dolphins escorted us into the Marsh Harbour anchorage. They were a mama and baby pair, and they played in the bow. We’ve had so few dolphin sightings in the Bahamas compared to the US! We also saw sea turtles and a nurse shark in the anchorage.

    Nurse shark
  4. We realized it’s a small world after all. We ran into a catamaran from Bass Lake, CA, a town near Paul’s hometown. We drove up to them in our dinghy, and it turns out they know a lot of people that Paul and his family also know.

    These snails agree its a small world!
  5. I tried to watch sunset and instead saw a big fat waterspout. That one disappeared before I could get the camera, but a second, skinnier one formed on the horizon – not nearby thankfully! We’d met the couple who owns the powerboat in this picture earlier that day, so I emailed them the photo. Their response: “Holy shit!”

    Left side of photo… the skinny water spout below the clouds
  6. We dined with cool cats at the full moon party at Cracker P’s on Lubbers Quarters. We were greeted at the dock by one of their many bar cats.
    The welcome committee at Cracker P’s on Lubbers Quarters

    We got there before the crowds, when they were still making frozen drinks, and they were SO GOOD (not sure how much alcohol was in them but yummm). It was $25 for an all-you-can-eat-buffet that they kept refilling for hours and hours. By Bahamas standards, that is not an expensive restaurant meal and it was actually REALLY tasty – the chicken was excellent; the grouper and pork were good; the coconut conch was interesting.  Beer was overpriced, but otherwise this was one of our best meals out in the islands. The place has a little beach and paddleboards, so it would be fun to check out during the day next time.

  7. We accidentally attended another full moon party.
    Noticing some movement on the beach at our Mystery Island X anchorage, we got out the binoculars (are we creepy?) and saw several people building a beach fire. We were tired, but we decided to eat dinner and then drag ourselves to the beach after we saw what we thought was fire dancing…. which turned out to be a light-up hula hoop that I was required to use as initiation into the party.  There was singing and guitar playing and people from Chicago who had literally planned their Bahamas charter around attending this full moon party because they loved it last time they were here…. 12 years ago. Attending this fire ended up being the best idea because…
  8. We made friends who weren’t on the move! At the party, we met S & J, two experienced travelers and sailors who had been staying at this anchorage long term. As soon as J invited Paul to go spearfishing, I knew we’d be staying here a while, no matter how long Paul had to wait out the weather! In addition, we got to know the island’s residents who hosted the bonfire, and they were incredibly interesting and generous people – these are people who bought raw land and built it into a truly magical destination over the course of decades, with materials, groceries, and supplies they could bring in only by boat.
    Many people stop at this island to go walking, so there was always someone to talk to if you were hanging out on the beach. We met a lot of Canadians, including a family of 4 on a boat around the size of ours. They were homeschooling for a year while giving their daughters the adventure of a lifetime. The weeks were filled with dinners on boats, birthday celebrations, and more bonfires. Especially with S & J around, we got to experience the sense of community we really missed since we’d left the dock at Pineapple’s. We’re really so grateful to them for hanging out, showing us around, and tolerating all the times we yelled “ahoy” into their boat while S was on the phone!
  9. We swam with the “tame” sharks and rays. S told us about a spot where the tour boats feed the sharks and rays.
    One common activity is to put squid between your toes and let the rays suck it out. We didn’t try this!
    No one was feeding the animals when we arrived, so Paul put on his snorkel and headed in, while I stood in the shallow water trying to work up some courage while also keeping a close eye on the rays and sharks (lemons, reef, and nurse) that ventured in looking for tasty treats.
    Eventually, after seeing Paul not get eaten, I went in too. We tried to get cool pictures but the sharks were way too timid to pose for photos. I acknowledge calling them “tame” is a joke and there might be some stupidity in swimming where the animals are used to being fed, but like I said, there was no active feeding going on and unlike this woman who got bit by a nurse shark, I kept my arms to myself and my eyes open!

  10. We watched our boat neighbors battle a shark big enough to keep us out of the water. There was a big boat  anchored next to us a few days, and we later learned they were filming a pilot for an Amazon TV show (gotta get that boat tax write-off somehow, right?). We watched as one guy caught something huge on his fishing rod – he fought it for half an hour while people on the boat hooted and hollered and filmed whatever he was valiantly trying to reel in. After he gave up and caught the line, we took the dinghy by and shouted, “What did you have on the line!?”  He yelled back, “A 10-foot tiger shark!” We didn’t take any sunset swims after that.
  11. No-see-ums are way worse than mosquitoes. All of a sudden, it got warm enough for the bugs to come out in full force. We discovered this when a walk through the woods turned into a race to the beach as we tried to outrun the mosquitoes. Little did we understand that the no-see-ums would be the true enemy. For a week I’d wake up in the middle of the night as the little itchy bumps would suddenly fire up again. The boats in the anchorage kept moving farther out to sea, as they tried to find a spot far enough from the island that the mosquitoes wouldn’t come for dinner.
  12. We got to do some sweet scuba diving! Island X’s reefs are beautiful and full of little caves.
    Paul and I went diving on a rare calm day and spotted a magnificently huge elkhorn coral. J and I went the next day – he took me through some little caves and swim-throughs, where we saw a giant urchin, a moral eel, a big lobster, good-sized trigger fish, and a shark egg.

    Shark egg?

  13. The slipper lobster reared its ugly head. Have you ever heard of a slipper lobster? Neither had we. But they’re so ugly that they’re cute. And they taste good too.
  14. Bohnanza turned out to the be the world’s best card game. I’m not even joking. You get to be vicious and sneaky, but only if you want. Throw in a waterfront cabin and mojitos made with limes and mint straight out of the garden, and you pretty much have the best night ever.
  15. We discovered foods we’d never heard of. We met some folks kind enough to share from their garden. When going to the grocery store presents you with soggy potatoes, soggy onions, and broccoli, being gifted fresh food is like being given $1000, and we are forever grateful.
    And to see the  amount of hard work and love that these people put into their garden was pretty amazing. In our tour of the place, we discovered fruits we never heard of, such as the sour orange, surinam cherry and the chocolate pudding fruit! J kept insisting that 1 of every 7 surinam cherries is sweet and delicious instead of bitter. I ate like 30 of them and haven’t found the sweet one yet!
  16. We went land crabbing! J rolled up to our boat one day and asked if we wanted to go crabbing. Imagining this to include a trap being dropped in the water, I asked, “What does it involve?” He answered, “A canvas bag, long pants, long sleeves, flash lights, and bug spray… oh, and lots of rum. We’ll pick you up after sunset.”  When I told Paul, he said, “Oooooh, we must be going land crabbing!” I had no idea this was even a thing.land crab Abacos Bahamas
    On our ride to the scene of this activity, S & J gave us instruction on how to step lightly on the crabs’ heads and grab them behind the claws. Next thing we knew, we downed some rum and took off running down the trails, flashlights in hand. Soon enough, we’re busting through brush and diving into holes grabbing crab after crab, throwing them into bags and buckets…. and re-capturing the ones that managed to escape! The rum is an essential part of this because you have to give the grabs some sort of advantage.After caging and feeding the crabs for a few days to “clean them out,” a feast was had. I think we cooked something like 10 crabs for 11 people – those suckers are huge!

    I make ridiculous faces when handling crabs.
  17. Bioluminescence lit up our world. Have you ever seen a fancy power boat with decorative blue lights under the stern? That’s what bioluminescence looks like. Microorganisms in the water produce light when disturbed. We’d just barely seen this before in Puerto Rico and Florida, but then it was like a little green glitter in the water. Here it was like having a blue flashlight under water. We drove the dinghy in circles to make it glow. I would entertain myself endlessly by leaning over the boat and bouncing fenders in the water, watching the it light up and giggling. We couldn’t get the camera settings right to capture it in a photo, but google it and you’ll get the idea. We thought it would be so cool to swim with our bodies glowing, but then we’d start thinking about that tiger shark….
  18. Paul learned the art of spearfishing…. and shark fighting. When the weather finally settled, Paul went spearfishing with J. J knows the reef like the back of his hand, will chase fish into deep holes, and can hold his breath for several minutes, so Paul went truly as the student.In the Bahamas, you aren’t allowed to spearfish with scuba equipment, so you must hold your breath as long as it takes you to find, spear, and retrieve the fish. Paul’s spear is a pole attached to a giant rubber band. You pull the pole back to use the power of the band to launch the spear, but the band stays around your wrist so you don’t lose it.
    Problem number one – sometimes the fish fight back! Paul shot a fish, but before he could grab the end of the spear, the fish started to swim away, loading up the tension on the rubber band. The fish broke free and – “pop!” – launched the dull end of the spear right back into Paul’s chest. He recoiled, resisting the urge to gasp while 20 feet underwater.  Luckily, his only real injury was a bruise that lasted a week.Problem number two – the sharks know where J hunts. As soon as they hopped out of the dinghy into the water, the reef sharks were there, waiting for the spearing to begin. Normal protocol would be that if one person spears something, the other person acts as shark lookout/defense as you work to get the fish back to the boat. When Paul got a fish, he looked for J to signal it was time to roll, but he noticed that J had just speared a fish too!
    With 2 flailing, bleeding fish, they surfaced, trying to hold the fish out of the water as they swam for the boat, which now somehow seemed to be 100 yards away. The sharks were in hot pursuit, and the guys were ready to give them a good whack if they got within arms distance (don’t worry, they’re tough and wouldn’t be harmed). Though the sharks get close, J said they’re typical behavior is to look at you like, “What? You’re not a fish!” and then to swim off to the spot where the fish was originally speared.Trying to imagine what this is like? Here’s a picture from someone with a very similar experience:

    Sorry Joe, I stole your photo cause it’s just too cool
  19. Paul never looks happier than when he’s been fishing. :::love:::


  20. Nature is so freaking awesome. And sometimes you just don’t have the camera ready. Paul tossed a scrap of fish off Miss Fe into the water. Instantly, a shark darted out from under our boat and grabbed the fish – then a barracuda larger than the shark came out and stole the fish from the shark!
  21. We enjoyed the view from Foxtown. This little town on Abaco wasn’t originally in our list of places to visit, but as we made our way back towards West End to depart for the US, it offered us protection from easterly winds. The view from here, with all the rocks, made us feel like we were suddenly in a different country. And from the tall town docks (where the water is quite shallow, so dinghies only), we could see the sharks waiting for the fisherman to drop their scraps.
    Sharks and more sharks

  22. Bahamians don’t approve of Paul’s beer choices. Food was surprisingly affordable in Foxtown at Da Valley Restaurant – and holy crap the fried food platter was the best we’d had. And beers were $4, except for one called Bushcrack, which was only $3. Curious, Paul ordered a Bushcrack and the patron at the bar says to the bartender, “Did you warn him?!” Paul didn’t understand what the fuss was about though – it tasted light but still had 5.7% ABV. Plus the name is just funny.

  23. No boat repairs! They say cruising is just fixing your boat in exotic places, but after leaving Florida, we were fortunate to have no real problems. Here we were, 2.5 months in the Bahamas, and the only thing we were doing was splicing a bad section of our jib sheet. It probably could have made the trip home, but we didn’t want to risk it since we wanted to head back to Florida with some actual wind so that it wouldn’t take 19 hours (unlike when we came to the Bahamas).While we were splicing , I pulled up the charts and realized we were still 2 days journey from West End, not one day. We’d gotten so spoiled in the populated part of the Abacos that we’d forgotten that not everything else was just a 10-20 mile hop.
  24. We practiced our “rough weather” sailing. OK, I suppose it wasn’t actually rough weather in the mind of most cruising sailors, but it’s not a day the recreational folks would normally pick for “fun.” We had around 15 knots of wind and 3-4 foot waves as we headed from Foxtown to Great Sale Cay. There is no cell reception in Great  Sale, so the other boats were all over the radio discussing weather and Gulf Stream crossing plans. Despite the rough seas there were several boats who had just come from the US. The next day, en route to West End, the wind and waves had calmed down on Little Bahama Bank, but the waves were annoyingly choppy – I was fine with this as I still wanted to get used to rougher waters before we crossed. Paul even sailed through narrow pass near West End, and we had a big dolphin swim through our bow wake to say “farewell.”
    Checking the weather

    Once we were within range of cell phone service once again, we checked the weather again. Chris Parker’s forecast showed more intense conditions than previously predicted for Sunday night into Monday (we planned to cross Monday morning) – he now recommended crossing only for “Salty Sailors” with 5-6 foot waves and winds 14-19 knots, gusting to 24. This was about 5 knots and 1-2 feet more than we were hoping for. We debated waiting. We debated changing our haul-out date in Florida (a schedule is the enemy of sailors). We decided to wait a few more days. Then we questioned our decision. We researched some more forecasts. We consulted with J; he said we’d be fine.As we headed to the West End anchorage, we were exposed to the waves rolling in and they were about 6 feet. Getting to experience those waves made me feel better – they seemed manageable. We decided to head out Monday morning.

  25. We managed to anchor at West End, but it was hard to sleep as we thought about coming back to the US.
    Crossing the gulf stream
    Way too amped up to sleep – bye bye Bahamas! We’ll be back soon!

    Though we heard other sailors say that West End is “the worst anchorage ever,” we’ve actually had good holding both times we anchored there.  We also tucked back in far enough that we weren’t exposed to those 6 foot waves. The problem is the current. After emailing a float plan to Paul’s dad, calling my parents, and prepping the sails for easy deployment in high winds, we attempted to sleep but the current moved our boat in a crazy pattern all around our anchor and kept shaking the snubber lose. The chain would then start rattling, waking us from whatever almost-sleep we were getting. Add in the anxiety of a big crossing, and we most certainly weren’t asleep until after midnight.

In conclusion, these last few weeks were amazing!! Here a bunch more photos, and stay tuned to hear about our adventure crossing back through the Gulf Stream to Florida!

Little fish swimming through a wrecked barge

Angel fish
Nassau grouper
Huge puffer fish
Our first sighting of the invasive lion fish
Paul trying to kill the invasive lion fish

 

Upper left corner… this fish kept attacking the camera, haha
Heading to Cracker Ps
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The Shark Before the Storm

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Calm weather was predicted – finally! For most of our time in the Bahamas, the Atlantic had pounded the east side of the islands, and therefore the coral reefs, so we hadn’t had the scuba diving opportunities we’d been hoping for. For the next several days, no wind and no waves were expected, so we departed Green Turtle Cay and headed for Moraine Cay. We saw one boat “sailing” that looked like they were sitting still, so we kept the motor running. But even the clang-clang-clang of our motor couldn’t keep us from enjoying the Gatorade-blue water.

Moraine Cay sunset

Moraine Cay is a private island – you can rent a villa there and have it all to yourself! Or you can purchase it for less than $3 million! There is a fair weather anchorage marked on the charts on the southeast side of the island. Even with the ocean laying flat and looking like a swimming pool, our boat still rocked with the slightest motion of the sea. But we were so excited to take advantage of the calm ocean!

Calmest seas in the Bahamas!

We had a big day planned – snorkeling, fishing, and diving. We took the dinghy out to find the reef in the morning – we couldn’t believe how gorgeous it was! The best part of the reef is smack up against the island and its rocks – we explored some of the outer patches but the reef was less stunning the farther out we went. The reef near the island was dense with coral, with lots of pretty sea fans, reef fish, and hogfish in 10-30 ft of water. Paul even spotted a tuna. Visibility was near 100 feet.

Paul snorkeling Moraine Cay reef

We snorkeled for a while, and when we hopped back into the dinghy, I saw a large silhouette pass beneath us. I hung over the edge of the boat and threw my masked face into the water to see – 4 eagle rays were gracefully swimming past! Paul immediately hopped in after them with the camera.

Eagle Rays at Moraine Cay reef

To scuba dive that afternoon, we picked a spot a little further north on the reef. It was only around 20 feet deep, but there were lots of coral heads and crevices to explore. We were greeted by big angelfish. Paul went to face to face with a curious grouper. For nearly an hour we went up, down, and around the coral heads.

Fish swim among the coral heads at Moraine Cay

When we turned around to head back to the dinghy, Paul pointed to something, his hand in a closed fist. Oh crap, I thought, I cannot for the life of me remember what that means. I didn’t see anything in that direction.  I figured we were heading back, so maybe his closed fist was a navigational cue? But the thing was…. Paul kept checking over his shoulder….. and Paul NEVER checks over his shoulder when we’re diving. So nervously, I checked over MY shoulder. Still nothing. Maybe I’m paranoid…. nope, there he goes, looking around again. At this point, I knew what he was looking for, but without confirmation as long as we were under water, I could trick myself into thinking, nahhh, that can’t be it….

“Did you see the shark?” Paul asked as soon as we surfaced, at least 20 minutes later. It was far enough away that he could barely make out its shape, but even at that distance, it looked to be at least 7 feet long and was definitely NOT a nurse shark. The closed fist pointing was a danger signal – oh yeah, now I remember! I requested he hold his hand over his head like a fin to signal shark from now on! “People just don’t realize that every dive is a shark dive!” he exclaimed.

Sea fan at Moraine Cay
Sea fan
Elk horn coral

After that excitement, we took the dinghy out to some other areas for exploration. Eventually we passed into an area that I called conch city! Once we were in less than 10 feet of water, I started to jump in after them. It took us only 20 minutes to limit out. Here’s the thing about conch – they’re just too easy to catch! They poke their cute little snail-like eyes out of the shell, stare at you in fear, tuck the eyes back into their shell and start to run – at a pace of about 2 ft/minute. It just makes me feel guilty!

Private dock at Moraine Cay

The  next morning we did some fishing, but only got a little snapper that we tossed back. We jumped back in for some more amazing snorkeling. Then we took a walk on the island. Unfortunately, the end of the calm weather was coming, so we motored to Allans-Pensacola to tuck in for a few days.

Villa for rent at Moraine Cay
Putting the machete to work!
Paul’s gotten pretty decent at free diving.

On a side note, regarding food in the Bahamas: If those frozen burgers seem unusually and reasonably priced, there is a reason. The reason is that when they say it’s beef with “chicken filler,” they really mean it’s chicken filler with a little beef! They were seriously the grossest burgers I’ve ever tried to stomach. And we bought way too many of them. And with only grocery shopping about every 3 weeks, I knew we had to eat them. They are slightly more tolerable as meatballs than burgers. Just an FYI in case you ever make this mistake too.

Relaxed and not biting my nails… aren’t you proud, mom?!

We spent 5 windy, rainy, stormy days anchored at Allans-Pensacola Cay. We had wanted to explore this uninhabited island more after our short visit early in the trip.

Rainy day boredom = breadmaking

We checked out the maze of trails – the signing tree trail beginning at the “free beer” sign is still the best. We continued our hunt for remnants of the US missile tracking station with some success – we found a set of stairs and what we believe was a radar mount. You can tell it’s been hidden by the brush for a long time because the dates graffitied on it were more than 10 years old.

Matty's Track
One of the many trails – this short one lead to a rocky beach

US military ruins on Allans-Pensacola – and unfortunately the visitor trash dump
Head east from the signing tree – this marks the barely-there path to the ruins
Possibly a radar mount from the US missile tracking station

Two Bahamian guys had towed a big, motor-less powerboat onto the beach. They were camping in it while they conched and fished.  They told us there are at least 2 wells on the island. They let us take a photo with the huge sea turtle skull they found elsewhere on the island.

Sea turtle skull

We met some American powerboaters who invited us to their bonfire that was later cancelled due to rain, so when they were gone the next day, we made our rounds to invite everyone else in the anchorage to “our” bonfire. We had limited success – 3 boats didn’t answer our “ahoys” – but we did get invited aboard one boat by a couple who were only briefly in the Bahamas but the boyfriend had been living on his boat for 18 years. We had some beers and some laughs, but the guy had too much pre-dinner tequila so they didn’t make it to the bonfire.

We were thrilled that another boat did join us on the beach once the fire was lit – the owners were fellow Tennesseans who had just bought their catamaran and had a captain along to help them learn the ropes of their new boat. The captain, who was younger us than us, had worked in Andros and Florida, so she was full of good information about diving in the Bahamas and the Florida Keys. We put out the fire just as the rain was setting in, and we got soaking wet trying to unload the dinghy. My logbook notes about that night say, “Paul was happy and singing rap songs” as we scurried through the rain, so I guess we were having fun!

My other note says, “Paul said the wind howled overnight, but I slept like a baby. Luckily this is a very calm anchorage.” Well, in this case, I spoke too soon….

Watching the next storm roll over Allans-Pensacola Cay

When people express their worries about our trip, it usually involves sharks, or pirates, or the Bermuda triangle. However, my worry has been dragging anchor in the middle of the night during a storm, close to land, and having to be on deck of our metal boat with lightning striking.

After dark the next night, a thunderstorm set in. The wind suddenly picked up over 20 knots and our boat swung rapidly, putting us 180 degrees from where we’d first anchored days earlier. My eyes shot to the chartplotter. The alarm hadn’t even been triggered yet, but I knew: “We’re dragging!” I yelled to Paul. We were only a few hundred feet from the shallows and the boat was quickly picking up speed.

Instantly we sprang into action. Somehow, in the time it took Paul to start the engine, I managed to don shoes and padded gloves and got up on deck, trying to avoid contact with the metal as much as possible. In reality I have no idea if this would really help should lightning strike (Paul insists it wouldn’t do much), but I shouted to Paul to put on some shoes, when I saw that he was already at the helm – wearing only his boxers and sitting directly in a puddle of water on the metal seat.

I ran to the windlass and furiously pumped the handle back and forth, raising the anchor with record speed.  When I saw lightning apparently strike the water miles off, I honestly screamed, “I don’t want to die!”

“The faster you go the sooner we get out of this shit!” Paul yelled back. Once the anchor was up, Paul drove forward, carefully, in pitch black with only the GPS and his memories of where the rocks lay for a guide. Paul aimed for a sandy spot in very shallow water. When there was only a foot of water left under the boat, he gave the command and I dropped the anchor with gusto.  The boat drifted sideways for a nerve-wracking stretch of time until the anchor bit, and then our boat swung into line – and held! It was a miracle – this was our 3rd time anchoring here but the only time the anchor had set on the first attempt.

The “C” shape was our path for several days at anchor. The rest is our path as we popped loose, drove away from the shallows, and reset the anchor.

We looked around the anchorage and could tell by the lights and the crew on deck that some of the 8 other boats were dragging too, but there was no risk of collisions as long as the wind direction stayed relatively steady. We were setting alarms to wake up and check on things, when I saw a message from Other Paul, who was back in Florida. Florida had  just been hit with 35 knot winds and boat-damaging waterspouts, and it was heading our way.

My adrenaline was still kicking from resetting the anchor in the storm. Now my mind started racing over what we should do to prepare for dragging again. Paul insisted that I was being overly fearful and there was nothing to prepare because there wasn’t much else we could do besides what we’d already done. To begin with, it was unlikely that we’d drag again. If we did and our anchor wouldn’t reset, we’d either end up aground, hopefully on the sandy beach, or be trying to motor out of the anchorage into the spacious Sea of Abaco. We would not be tossing in our second anchor (Fortress FX- 37), which is what I was asking about, because it would be harder to raise if needed, would risk tangling the other anchor, and stood almost no chance of setting in the grassy bottom. What he said made sense to me, but I could not convince myself that doing nothing was the best plan. What about just in case? It turned into a pretty fierce argument.

Finally, under the principle of having to give a panicked person something to do, Paul told me to ready the anchor as long as I promised not to throw it in the water under any circumstances.  I debated if I should even bother, knowing he said this just to stop the argument. But thinking better safe than sorry I did it anyway, and I tried to think through what other actions I could take to prepare.

I checked the Facebook sailing groups to validate the forecast, and there were rumors that Chris Parker was predicting 40-70 knot winds (46-80 mph – yes land lubbers, Cat 1 hurricane starts at 74 mph). This was crazy! There was nothing but minor thunderstorms in the earlier forecasts (this was also months ago, so it was well before hurricane season if you were wondering). Once I saw that forecast, I knew then I wouldn’t be sleeping.

I stowed some of the sails below so they wouldn’t get shredded in high winds and to reduce windage. I closed the galley and head seacocks to prevent taking on water if the boat  were to end up sideways in the shallows (though Paul later explained that our boat is set up so this wouldn’t be a problem like it is on many other boats).

Ultimately, this was the worst night on the boat – not because of the weather, but because Paul and I will never see eye-to-eye on what happened that night. We fell from our most glorious moment of teamwork into the ugliest moments of discord. He saw me as panicked and irrational. I later admitted that I was afraid (of course!) but I felt I was logically thinking through possibilities. I saw him as careless while he felt he had thought through the facts and had the most realistic plan.

In Paul’s defense he remained calm throughout the night. Actually, I think he slept a little too well. In later discussions he said simply, “We weren’t prepared for hurricane force winds and there was nothing we could do in that anchorage that we hadn’t already done to be prepared for that”.

Paul’s take on the situation was this:

It was a sort of checkmate scenario we were staring down. Several boats and shallow waters made making our way out of the anchorage in the dark highly risky at best. Even if we could make it out, there were no other anchorages around that we could navigate into at night offering better protection. Furthermore, our boat doesn’t have the engine power to make headway against 30+, knots severely limiting our options if we did go out into the narrow Sea of Abaco. In reality, we had the anchor dug in hard and deployed with the absolute maximum amount of chain we could deploy without putting ourselves on the beach. If the winds really hit with hurricane forces and our anchor gave out, we probably would have been on the beach before we could do anything about it. I knew that on land we would be wet and miserable but safe. There would be no need for the life raft,  no weeks spent adrift at sea, no treacherous reef to tear us to pieces. Just a sandy beach and knee deep waters to wade through to get to safety. Knowing that if the worst happened we would be safe was enough for me, even if it meant we might lose the boat in the process. It was a freak storm well beyond what forecasts were calling for. We didn’t do anything wrong, but somehow we were out of good options and left only with the choice to take the least bad option. 

I stayed awake until 3:30 am, and then I woke up every hour until sunrise, waiting for the winds to come.

Thankfully they never came.

 

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How You Too Can be the Turtle Whisper: Our Guide to Green Turtle Cay

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Green turtle cay the Bahamas

After several days at Piggyville, we were excited to head back to our favorite Cay so far – Green Turtle. We had tried to make reservations at Other Yacht Club, the marina associated with Pineapples Bar, because we heard a 40 knot storm might pass through on Monday, but they don’t take reservations. As we approached, we tried to call but there was no response on the radio. We headed into Black Sound anyway and tied up to the end of Other shore Club’s fuel dock. We were told they were out of fuel so the dockmaster Kevin was taking the day off, but Paul found Kevin still nearby.

“Do you want us to move to another part of the dock?” Paul asked him.
Kevin replied, “Do you need electric?”
“No.”
“Do you need water?”
“No.”
“You can stay there as long as you like!”

Sounded good to us! We took the short walk down the dirt road from Pineapples to town to explore a bit more. (Our reviews of the places we’ve gone in are in our guide, below).

Green Turtle Cay the Bahamas
Exploring quaint New Plymouth

At Sundowners that evening, we met up with Other Paul and Jamie. We had a few rounds of beers, talked loudly over Sax Man and the DJ, and inevitably I started dancing. Our friend from our previous visit, Mr. Z, was there with his wife – when she realized who we were, she exclaimed, “Oh, I recognized your husband on the street earlier today, but I thought he was a Conchy Joe!” After my inquisitive look, she explained that means a white Bahamian. I pulled Paul over to tell him his new nickname, which he loved. I then complained to Mrs. Z that Paul doesn’t dance, and she told him she’d teach him – she broke out some Zumba-like moves that he could mimic and it might have been the highlight (for me) of the whole Bahamas experience. Meanwhile, a lady who was bending and twisting every which way without spilling her wine, told me I was “too stiff” and tried to show me some moves. Who knew people were still having such a good time to “Who Let the Dogs Out?”

Who let the dogs out? I did.

Over the next 2 days we became the Turtle Whispers. It turned out Paul and Jamie hadn’t heard about swimming with the turtles, nor had the other people we met on the Pineapples dock – Phil and Marjorie of Tanager and two guys John and Matt who were helping move each other’s boats – so we made multiple trips there so we could show everyone else how cool it was. If you want to have this adventure yourself, all the details are below.

swimming with sea turtles
Coco Bay, Green Turtle Cay
Paul faces off with the hungry turtles at Coco Bay
Lindsey swims with the turtles

We ended up staying in Green Turtle a night or two longer than originally planned. Paul, Jamie, Phil and Marjorie were the first sailors close to our age that we’d met since NC back in November, plus John and Matt were just cool guys, so it was wonderful to actually get to hang out with people for multiple days and not say goodbye within a few minutes or hours of meeting! The first night we were all in Green Turtle was the first time we’d ever put all our new cockpit cushions to use, with 6 people piled in and chatting. I wish I had taken a picture!

Another evening, Tanager hosted dinner, and we stayed up late laughing, contemplating, and story telling. We heard about a boat John and Matt worked on decades ago, but the job ended when someone else used the boat to move drugs. We heard about all the mistakes Phil made his first day on his boat – so many it took him and Marjorie more than an hour to tell the stories as we all laughed hysterically. It’s hard to convey how overdue we were to just hang out with friends. Most of them were heading back to the US soon, so after a few days we said our goodbyes and see-you-next-years. While everyone else was using the calm-as-can-be weather window to cross the Gulf Stream, we readied ourselves for our next remote island adventure.

If you’re thinking of exploring the Bahamas, we highly recommend Green Turtle Cay as a start. Here are our reviews and tips for checking it out.

Our Guide to Green Turtle Cay

How to Get to Green Turtle Cay:

Green Turtle is easy to get to from the US. If you’ve come to the Abacos by boat, you can anchor on the west side of the cay, possibly anchor in White Sound (though it’ll be tight with the moorings), take a mooring or a slip in either White Sound (the northern sound, the more touristy area) or Black Sound (the southern sound, close to town and the local hangouts).

If you’re not a boater, it’s still easy as you can fly into Great Abaco through the airports at either Marsh Harbour or Treasure Cay, then taxi and take a ferry to Green Turtle – the Treasure Cay airport is much closer to the ferry dock. Rather than rewrite the book on this, I’ll point to GTC’s excellent information here.

Coco Bay – Swim with the Turtles

Coco Bay, Green Turtle Cay, the Bahamas
Swim with the turtles at Coco Bay

One of the best parts of Green Turtle! If you need to tie up your dinghy, there is a dock next to the Brendal’s Dive Center dock. We generally adopt a don’t-feed-the-wildlife policy, but if you want to feed the turtles, stop in the Green Turtle Club convenience store (near the fuel pumps) for some squid. Take the narrow road to the right of the convenience store to walk a path behind the GTC. You should see signs for Coco Bay and/or Ocean beach – first sending you left, then a right. When you meet the paved road, turn left. Then take the first path on the right to walk to the docks (if you miss the path, you’ll soon see the water and can climb down over a short wall to get there instead). The first dock if you come to is public if you want to walk out on it.

Turtles in Coco Bay
A remora catches a ride on this sea turtle

The bottom is just sandy here, so try to avoid kicking it up to maintain visibility. Swim out in front of the docks and, unless they recently got a big feeding, the curious turtles should arrive within minutes. We saw up to 3 at a time. Watch your fingers and your toes! They seem to be unsure of the difference between digits and squid. They’ll sneak up behind you and pop out of the water and breathe in your face – they are aggressive little devils!

This is by far one of the most magical experiences of the Bahamas. We’ve seen a lot of sea turtles on the trip, but we can’t imagine there are many places where they are willing to interact with you like this.

Green Turtle Cay the Bahamas Nurse Shark
Nurse shark at the Coco Bay dock

In addition, we saw nurse sharks, lobster, barracuda, needle fish and others swimming around – fun to view from the dock.

Ocean Beach

Incredible shot!

This is the beach on the northeast side of Green Turtle. When we were there, the ocean was really pretty rough and the water was cloudy. But our friends said they had a great time body surfing on the beach, and some had luck spearfishing at the reef that was an easy swim from shore. Careful where you go in, as there are some rocks really close to the beach.

Bita Beach

This is the Atlantic side beach at the bay in the middle of Green Turtle. We didn’t get a chance to spend time here, but we were told it’s a favorite for snorkeling. Honestly, I’m not sure if the good snorkeling is in the actual bay, or at one of the Atlantic access points to the north of the bay. If someone knows, please let us know! Side note: nearer the southern end of the Atlantic-facing beaches our friends found lots of sand dollars in the shallow waters at low tide – the little flat sand dollars, while we saw only the fat “sea biscuit” variety elsewhere.

Green Turtle Club

GTC was the first marina we stayed at in the Bahamas and were pleasantly surprised to find out it’s less than $2/ft. It’s located in White Sound, which is the more resort-ish side of the island, though it’s far from town. A possibly wet dinghy ride or golf cart is need to get to town, unless you can find a ride from a local. Staff is insanely friendly. They have the biggest laundry room we saw on our trip and you can use it even if you’re not a guest there. They have a sweet old bar where the walls are covered in money, and behind the bar there is an air conditioned lounge with leather couches and really nice bathrooms, if you need somewhere to chill down on a hot day. There’s a dining room we didn’t try since we didn’t feel like meeting the dress code. If you’re not sleeping on a boat, there are rooms and homes for rent. Brendal’s Dive Center is right next door for scuba diving, tours and golf cart rentals, plus there is another golf cart rental and a realtor on site.

Bluff House

Beach at Bluff House’s Tranquil Turtle Bar

Bluff House is another White Sound marina at under $2/ft, with restaurant options on both the sound and sea sides. Tranquil Turtle bar is open until dinner time with an excellent beach facing the sea of Abaco, complete with hammocks and chairs, which made this our favorite beach, especially if we hit it on a late afternoon when no one else happened to be around. We didn’t eat at Ballyhoo Bar & Grill, which is open for dinner, but we did walk around the very nice pool and shop area. They also have rooms, cottages, and golf cart rentals.

Fresh Greens

If you’ve spent time outside the cities of the Bahamas, you’ve probably experienced the frustration of trying to buy half decent vegetables – many are frozen during transport and variety is seriously lacking. We  were pretty excited to hear there was a place advertising “fresh greens.” They’re only open for a few hours 2 days a week – Saturday and Tuesday 10am – 1pm if I remember correctly. This hydroponic setup is on the road near Leeward Yacht Club on the Black Sound end of the cay. By dinghy, there is a small sandy patch to the right of Abaco Yacht Services where you can beach and walk to the road, turn left, and take a short walk to the greens. Various greens, peppers, and tomatoes are available. It is $8/lbs – a pound of lettuce fills a big bag, but I certainly wouldn’t want to pay that much for a pound of tomatoes.

Abaco Yacht Services

This Black Sound facility has a boat yard that was very busy when I went over to do laundry. The laundry room here is outside to those not staying here, though they do close about an hour before the marina office closes and there are only 2 washers and 2 dryers. The people I met here tell me there’s a laundry facility in town somewhere near Laure’s Kitchen that is slightly cheaper, but I haven’t yet seen it for myself.

Laure’s Kitchen

Asian food! This place is great for when you’ve tired of standard Bahamian and American fare, and the food is actually pretty good. Unfortunately, since we were there, they’ve announced that they’ve moved to Marsh Harbour, though their Facebook page mentions they still have a food van and deliveries in Green Turtle.

Robertha’s Faith Grocery

There are flyers around town advertising homemade ice cream, but once we reached this grocery store (across the street from Wrecking Tree) we were told the guy who makes the ice cream stopped making it but hasn’t taken down his signs!  Feeling a bit disappointed and maybe even tricked, I instead bought coconut cake to console myself. A little boy standing in the store told me, “You’ll want to eat it right away cause it’s really good!” The kid was right!

Wrecking Tree

Wrecking Tree restaurant

We’ll definitely be going back to this restaurant next year. This was the most flavorful fried grouper and conch we had. Nuff said.

Pineapples Bar / Other Yacht Club

Pineapple’s Bar

Pineapples is down a dirt road from town – the bar is across the water from town while the docks are behd the bar in Black Sound. Nothin’ like having a 10 foot deep pool mere steps from the bar.  During the day you can find both adults and kids hanging out and swimming here. They serve food at the bar (we didn’t try it but saw good reviews online). This place seems to quiet down at night, except for on nights when they have live music.

Toes in the sand at Pineapple’s

If you don’t require fancy accommodations, Other Yacht Club is your best deal at under $1/ft, with a friendly dockmaster and proximity to town.  The restrooms may have cracks in the floor with grass coming through, but they have hot water showers, which is a luxury to us! They don’t take reservations, but just call on the radio when you’re approaching. The entrance to Black Sound is known for being shallow when the tide is down, and we saw as shallow as 5 feet inside the sound even when above mid-tide.

Sundowners

Local favorite Sax Man takes the stage at Sundowners

We love to go here for drinks. It overlooks the sea, with a great view of sunset. With live music or a DJ on the stage, this place attracts both locals and tourists. There is a pool table and other games to play. The food is so-so – it’s bar food and we’ve had pizzas that were both over- and under-cooked, and a friend ate some questionable conch. But we love this place anyway for the atmosphere. We’ve tried but failed multiple times to close this bar down… suffice if to say its open late.

Sunset at Sundowners

2 Shorty’s Take Out

This food stand has the best prices in the Abacos with great quality. Long term residents love them for putting the most conch in their conch fritters. We met one of the owners (two sisters) who was super cool.

Miss Emily’s Blue Bee Bar

Enjoying the goombay smash at Miss Emily’s

This is the home of the goombay smash, a most famous Bahamian cocktail first served by the current owner’s mother. We haven’t figured out the best time to hit this place – we’ve seen it with a line down the street and when it was nearly empty – so good luck. The original secret recipe is available by the glass or by the gallon, no joke! They have a nice looking dining room in the back part of the bar, but we didn’t try the food.

Inside Miss Emily’s

McIntosh Restaurant & Bakery

We didn’t go inside, but we had a slice of cake from here and it was to die for.  We’ll definitely hit it up next time if that’s any representation of all their other food!

Papa Pete’s Bakery

I only ran in here looking for a loaf of bread  and walked out with coconut bread, which was the only thing in their display cases at the time. However, they advertise some pretty good sounding food including an all-lobster night, and they list a lot of specials on their Facebook page.

Turtle Crawl Cafe

This place , located between 2 Shortys and Sundowners, was nice for a “fresh” cafe style salad, sandwich or wrap. They had recently opened when we arrived and still seemed to be dialing in their menu. They re-open in the evenings to serve dessert and the line for ice cream was out the door when we walked past.

Harvey’s Grill

The restaurant looked nice and we heard good things, but we haven’t made it in yet. They do advertise ice cream, which will be my reason to check it out next time.

Sid’s, Lowe’s and Curry’s Grocery Stores

Curry’s Grocery in New Plymouth is closest to the town docks

The grocery stores have similar items and similar prices. People recommended Sid’s to us for variety and Curry’s for seafood. We didn’t find much difference between them and would recommend if you are doing a big grocery run here to spend some time comparing first (or travel to Marsh Harbour instead). They all seemed to be out of something – particular veggies, meats – at any given time. A lot of people time their shopping for mailboat day to get the best selection, but as one local said, “They always have the same old shit.” Marsh Harbor is only a day sail away with a much better selection quality and prices if you need a lot of groceries.

Plymouth Rock Liquors

The liquor store where you can eat breakfast! We didn’t get to experience the highly recommended morning meal, but you can sit at the bar for drinks and food throughout the day – or unlike in the USA you can take your drinks with you on a walk around town.

Bronze Sculpture Garden, old jail, Albert Lowe museum, library, shops

New Plymouth, Green Turtle Cay

We scoped out the busts and sculptures to help us learn about Green Turtle Cay’s history, including the American colonists who came to the Bahamas because they were loyal to the British Crown.

We walked through the old jail just for fun. We didn’t get around to checking out the museum or library, and only briefly stopped in some other shops in town. Paul did find reasonably priced sunglasses in one gift shop and not-so-reasonably priced Cuban cigars in another (cigars were overpriced everywhere we checked). There was a home decor place and a hardware store that we didn’t go inside.

Island Roots Heritage Festival

Royal Bahamas Police Force band performs at the festival

We attended this festival in May with some friends. Near town they set up tents with food and craft vendors plus a stage for music and games. We got to see the Royal Bahamas police band perform, which was cool. We also attended a presentation about the early history of Green Turtle Cay that talked about the days of sponge and pineapple exports, the booming boat building business, the fashionable Victorian ladies who lived here, and the fact that people from Miami used to come to Green Turtle for provisions because it was the easier and closest place to go!

Tired  and a lil buzzed after enjoying town and the festival

There is another festival  called Cheeseburger in Paradise that occurs in July on a nearby unpopulated island. It looks like a ton of fun!

This list doesn’t capture every business available on Green Turtle – there are a few additional marinas, marine services, golf cart rentals, restaurants and shops. With plenty to explore and a much-sought-after islandy vibe, this is our top recommendation for anyone wanting to visit the Abacos.

Don’t worry, I will!
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Colossal Conch and Pig Island Palooza!

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Big news – we caught our first conch! And it’s a monster! Even with instructions, it took some time to figure out the right place to cut to free the animal from its shell – but once we did, conch salad and conch fried rice were on the menu!

Catch the conch!
Cut a hole in the shell to reach the conch's muscle
Poke a hole in the shell and cut the conch’s muscle from where it holds on
Pull the conch from the shell, remove a few inedible parts, then slice and dice
Our conch salad = conch, onions, peppers, cucumbers, lime juice, OJ, hot sauce

Hopetown Hopetown Hopetown. It seemed like once we were south of Whale Channel, all the action on the radio was about Hopetown on Elbow Cay, so we headed there to check it out. We debated taking a mooring ball in the harbour – we’d never used a mooring before – but ultimately decided it was silly to pay to be not attached to land when we could just anchor outside of town. And boy, were we glad we had anchored out – Hopetown is well protected, which means no wind, and it was roasting in town while we had a great breeze anchored out by the lighthouse.

Elbow Reef Lighthouse at Hopetown, Elbow Cay, the Bahamas
Elbow Reef Lighthouse at Hopetown

We spent about 3 days in town. If you like to poke around in shops, Hopetown is probably the best place in the Abacos to do it. We went to the beach twice to escape the heat. The reef was very close to the beach, within easy swimming distance, though you had to swim out farther to get past the murky, sandy water where the waves crashed. Though we saw some big brain coral, a huge snapper, Nassau grouper, and stingray, the reef was a bit disappointing after seeing how beautiful the one at Fowl Cay was.

Paul swimming Elbow Reef
Making friends on the beach

We hung out at Cap’n’Jacks for tacos and 2-for-1 margaritas. We met a couple our age who flew down to escape the Canadian cold, a guy from SC who is spending months here on a mooring ball, and a couple that comes here every year for weeks to months and just bounces from vacation home to vacation home if they can’t find one available for their whole stay.

Hopetown’s beaches look pink in the right light

We toured the Elbow Reef Lighthouse, the only manned, kerosene-lit lighthouse left the world. It was pretty neat and it’s not government funded, so we bought some postcards in gift shop – which are so outdated that they claimed the Bahamas still had 3 manned lighthouses!

Elbow Reef Lighthouse Lense in Hopetown
Elbow Reef Lighthouse Lens
View of Hopetown from the lighthouse
View from the lighthouse

While we were in the lighthouse, we saw the dark rain clouds coming. We joked about going back to the boat to shower and wash the boat in the rain, but figured it would only last 10 minutes. But no, it rained and POURED for hours. We left the lighthouse and hung out on a covered dock for a while. Then ran through the rain to the public restrooms (several towns have public restroom buildings, one of the pleasant surprises here, haha) and then to a bar, where the Bahamian military personnel were also waiting out the rain (but only drinking Coke).

The rain about to pummel Miss Fe
Soaking wet – he always picks the worst days to wear the moisture activated “cooling” shirts

After the rain finally stopped, we went to Wine Down Sip Sip, which, in addition to having 2-for-1 drinks, also had probably the best restaurant food we had in our whole trip — PIZZA. Now this was fancy pizza, which normally is never as good as normal New York pizza, but somehow this flatbread with pepperoni, sundried tomatoes, and artichoke was one of the best pizzas we’d ever had. So good we almost ordered a second one that day, even though it was $20 and not that big. So good that we haven’t stopped talking about how good it was and I might be drooling just thinking about it.

We were in need of a major provisioning run, so we next sailed across to Marsh Harbour, where we’d previously road tripped with Dave. Over the course of few days, we got Paul a haircut (in an hallway with no business signs where a kid helped by yelling “Dad! Customer!”), bought at least 3 weeks worth of groceries, finally did laundry at the 4th place we tried, dinghied around to many bars only to realize this place just isn’t that lively on a Saturday night (making me really miss my friends), and had a good meal at Mangoes where I realized I had never been so happy to eat fish that was grilled instead of fried!

Fresh new haircut – and yes both carts are ours
OMG real food (crab stuffed hogfish)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While doing laundry, we met a couple who asked us, “How are you doing this at your age?” and then they explained they were asking because when they started cruising 25 years ago, this was the question that people asked them. They said at that time, the wife took a sabbatical from work, the husband sold his business, and they sailed off to Venezuela with their 11-year-old son. Their son would take the bus by himself to the next town over to buy ice cream – they told him he was allowed to do this as long as he came back knowing one new word in Spanish – and he eventually learned to speak Spanish fluently. They said now though that they feel no need to go further than the Abacos! They aren’t the only people who have sailed all over yet told us the Bahamas are all they need!

View from the laundry rooms. “The water’s not blue in Marsh Harbour,” they said – they lied.

There was a boat in the harbour that I recognized from a Facebook blog Enterprise Sailing that I had been following because the guy’s journey down the ICW was around the same time as ours. We spun around the boat in our dinghy like total creepers, until a shirtless, 20-something guy poked his head out. I yelled, “Hi! Not to be creepy, but I follow you on Facebook!” He seemed to be not weirded out by this, and we chatted for a bit; his name is also Paul. His girlfriend was flying in soon and we said hopefully we’d catch them later.

Our last night in Marsh I watched needlefish and shrimp swim around our boat as it got dark.

Marsh Harbour sunset

When I had told coworkers I was sailing to the Bahamas, multiple people asked me, “Are you going to go to Pig Island?!” The original “pig island” is Staniel Cay – no where near us – but the Abacos has a copy cat attraction at No Name Cay. That was our next destination.

No Name Cay

No Name is north of Whale Channel, so we once again waited for calm weather to cross it – and this time we were prepared to fish it. On our first few tries, as soon as Paul dropped the lure in the water, a snapper would hit – we got one big enough to keep for dinner. We also put out larger lures on the hand lines – I thought something hit and when I pulled it in, the lure was missing an eye and had some fresh teeth marks in it. We were happy to finally have some fishing luck!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At No Name Cay, we grabbed our cameras and headed for the beach. A couple tour boats were already stopped there, and the pigs had run towards them to check what was for lunch. “Piggies!” I squealed as we beached the dinghy – I mean, really, how else are you supposed to react? Big mamas, tiny piglets, and everything in between swarmed us to find out what snacks we had brought them. It turns out they don’t care about onions and peppers, but they were quite thrilled about the cantaloupe. Though they would wade into the water for food, they had no interest in doing any actual swimming.

Some local restaurants donate their scraps to the pigs. We also watched a guy who was driving back and forth from Green Turtle to haul water to the pigs. I asked him how often he has to do that – he said every 2 months but that left me wondering if that means someone else is coming in between his runs. Why are pigs on a beach so exciting? I have no idea – it’s just fun, I guess!

“I don’t have anything left to feed you!”

Swimming pigs No Name Cay Bahamas
Sunbathing with my new friend after I asked Paul, “Do you think that pig wants to be buried in the sand and have a mermaid tail?” The pig loved it.

The walk to the ocean side of No Name was nice at low tide; I wish the ocean hadn’t been so rough so we could have checked out the nearby reef. We really enjoyed snorkeling in the mangroves here too – it was just a nice change of pace for underwater scenery, and we saw huge schools of tiny, shiny fish, a bunch of snappers, some big stingrays, and lots of juvenile conch. And of course we saw a big barracuda. One of the guide books suggested getting out of the water if you see a barracuda. If we followed that rule, we’d never get to swim!

low tide at No Name Cay

We liked No Name so much we stayed for several days and had the place to ourselves for most of it.  The weather forecast called for storms with 40 knot winds on Monday, so we wanted to get into a marina at Green Turtle Cay a few days in advance of that. Our last day in No Name, a boat came up to us to say hello – it was Other Paul and his girlfriend Jamie. They were heading to Green Turtle – we said we’d see them there!

Fish in No Name Cay The Bahamas Pig Island
Surrounded by the fishies
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Exploring Green Turtle Cay

Coco Bay Green Turtle Cay

After so many days at uninhabited islands, we were ready for some civilization!  Green Turtle Cay’s White Sound is a mix of a narrow channel, mooring balls, anchored boats, and busy marinas. Despite looking crowded, it never felt that way. Green Turtle turned out to be the laid back island we were looking for.

After an easy refueling stop at Green Turtle Club’s t-dock, the dockmaster helped us into our slip and we rushed off to truly enjoy some REAL SHOWERS (it’d been over a week!).  Walking around the Green Turtle Club, I noticed everyone just seemed so darn happy! Staff seemed happy, guests seemed happy, fishing charter captains seemed happy. People who hadn’t seen each other in a year were exchanging hugs. Fishermen were showing off their catches. Everyone immediately came across as friendly and helpful. We couldn’t help but smile. Dave says hello to everyone so this just multiplied the good vibes.

Clean and refreshed, we were ready to hit the town- but New Plymouth is at least a 40 minute walk from the more touristy White Sound area, and we weren’t up for getting wet in the dinghy or changing our clothes to meet the Green Turtle Club restaurant dress code. The most popular form of travel on the island is by golf cart, but we’d already found out there were no more available today. We talked to the dockmaster, and he called a friend who is not officially a taxi but is willing to drive folks around. The guy didn’t answer his phone, so we decided, with some disappointment, on a shorter 10 minute walk to a nearby restaurant.

We’d just stepped onto the road, when a truck pulled over. A man leaned out the window and said, “Are you the ones looking for a ride? I’ll be back in 10 minutes!”

He returned promptly in a car and introduced himself – we’ll call him “Mr. Z” (obviously, not his real name). We said we were looking for “a good bar with some good food.” He said he’d take us to one spot, and if it wasn’t what we were looking for, he could keep taking us to more.

The roads to New Plymouth on Green Turtle Cay.

First stop was Pineapples, a bar just outside of town down a bumpy dirt road, that faces the water and has a very deep swimming pool within stumbling distance of the bar. Dave went to order a round of beers, and while we were waiting on them, I asked Dave if he thought we should arrange to have Mr. Z pick us up somewhere in town so we could check out the restaurants there without having to come back to Pineapples to meet him. “Oh he’s not leaving yet,” Dave said with a mischievous smile, “I’m buying him a beer.”  With those words, I should have known it would be a fun night.

Next stop was Sundowners – Mr. Z said it should be popular tonight because Sax Man was playing – and sure enough the nearby parking lot was jam-packed with golf carts. Inside we found a pool table, a bar, a deck overlooking the soon-setting sun, and a stage where Sax Man was setting up. The place was crowded and getting more so, with both tourists and locals, and even families that seemed to be there for some sort of charity event. “Another round of beers?” Dave said and we all obliged.

The problem is, Dave is just thirstier than the rest of us. “Another round?” he said, before we were halfway through with our drinks.  The rest of us laughed at our pitiful drinking abilities as he gleefully passed around more bottles of Kalik or Sands. Mr. Z told us Green Turtle is a great place with no crime – “No one dies here unless they are sick.” He told us about becoming a Bahamas resident (he’s from the Carribbean), the lack of rain the past 2 months, and the town’s important people and places, like the police officer, the school, and his wife’s business.  Then finally, taking pitty on my small stature, as Dave calls for another round, Mr. Z told us the key to surviving a night out with Dave: “There is a female drink! The pink one!” Well, we have to try this – mercifully the next round  we order is Sands Pink Radler – a 2% ABV beer that tastes like sparkling grapefruit juice. Everybody had one, and I wisely stuck to them for the rest of the night.

Photo Courtesy of Sands Brewery, bahamianbrewery.com

Maybe it was alcohol-induced hallucinations, but after Paul explained the green flash to Dave and Mr. Z, they swore they saw it as the sunset. Paul and I still don’t believe them. For any doubters the Green Flash is indeed a real thing.

After swaying to the music of Saxman for a very long time and singing along to Bob Marley tunes, we had worked up a pretty good buzz and one heck of an appetite. Dave knew that Lobster season was quickly coming to an end. “Mr. Z, do they sell Lobster dinners here?” he inquired. “Nah mon, but I know just the place,” he replied.  After a short drive across the tiny town we arrived at the Wrecking Tree. “What does Wrecking mean?” Paul inquired. Mr. Z explained that Wrecking was once a big industry on the island of Green Turtle and throughout the Bahamas where locals would be licensed by the government to go salvage shipwrecks. The goods were then collected at the Wrecking tree before being transported to Nassau for auction. At one point the Bahamas had over 300 ships dedicated to wrecking and two-thirds of the islands’ exports were salvaged goods. This was all very interesting as we sipped on various local beers, but we were starving. Dave and Mr. Z ordered up the cracked lobster (cracked=fried) while Paul and I both got orders of cracked conch and Grouper. The fried conch and grouper was the best we’d ever had by far. We actually didn’t know conch could be so tender or grouper so flavorful. The portions were also huge so we struggled to finish them and have one more after-dinner beer.

Mr. Z, ever the gentleman, drove us home safely, but as I watched the golf carts scatter as the bars emptied out, there was the disturbing thought that in a country where you drive on the left, there are way too many partying Americans who might accidentally drive that golf cart on the right. When we arrived at the Green Turtle Club we asked how much for his services. “You guys don’t owe me anything, I had a blast, mon!” he replied. We gave him a nice tip and hearty handshake for showing us a tremendous time.

The next morning, we rented a golf cart and got a tour of the local real estate market  and headed to town for lunch and groceries. Luckily, the lady at the golf cart rental declared, “Left to live!” as we pulled out and this became our mantra at every turn or anytime the driver got too close to the right.

After booking Dave’s flight and doing laundry (around $5 per load, ouch – it’s at least $4 everwhere here), we headed over to Coco Bay, where we heard some people feed the sea turtles.

Coco Bay Green Turtle Cay

We didn’t take any food for the turtles and the bay didn’t look like much at first glance. We couldn’t see a turtle or really any fish from the dock but we figured it would be nice to cool off even if we didn’t see anything. Paul was the first in and had barely made it into chest deep water when he exclaimed, “Turtle!” Soon we were surrounded by turtles and though we had no food for them, it did not  stop them from wanting to eat! We quickly learned to keep our fists closed as an outstretched finger looks a lot like a piece of squid and greatly interests the turtles. The turtles swam with us until we got cold, occasionally dashing off then sneaking up behind us, popping up to breathe, or going to visit a boat that may give them a tasty morsel.

Coco Bay Green Turtle Cay
Green Sea Turtle at Coco Bay

After our swim, we drove past Mr. Z. He rolled down the window, laughing about last night. With a promise to see him at Sundowners later, we headed to the Bluff House Tranquil Turtle Beach Bar, not realizing they closed in about half an hour, at 6:00. It is one of the most idyllic beach bars we have ever encountered and a worthy stop if you are in Green Turtle Cay. There was no one else there, so we had the deck, beach, hammocks, and palm trees to ourselves as the sun started to set. We watched the distant flames of a wildfire flicker over Great Abaco.

Tranquil Turtle Beach Bar Green Turtle Cay, photo from bluffhouse.com

We ended our night at Sundowners, where we watched people dance and mingle, snacked on fried food and pizza, and took it easy as we would be traveling the next day. Unsure of the weather, we had debated taking the Green Turtle Ferry to Treasure Cay on Great Abaco (at $15 per person, one way) to see the island before Dave’s flight. This would allow us to avoid crossing the notorious “Whale Cay,” a short but potentially rough passage that requires you to leave the Sea of Abaco and be exposed broadside to ocean swell for 2 miles. Luckily, the latest weather report looked clear and we would be able to take our own boat through the Whale and around to Treasure Cay (ironically not a cay at all).

The next morning we prepared to cast off, and realized we were facing a conundrum: The boat to our port side had a dinghy on davits, easily sticking out of their slip 8 feet. The bow on the boat across from them stuck out nearly 10 feet. This meant we had very limited space to back out our boat into the fairway for a forward exit and wouldn’t be able to pivot around the piling without the potential for crashing into the neighbor’s dinghy. On top of that, the wind would be fighting us. With our heavy, under-powered, full-keeled boat, this was not an ideal situation. Precision is not our forte. Brute force is our specialty… Not a good combination here. The other option was to back our boat in the opposite direction, which would mean backing up for a longer distance. As we were debating this, yet another (super nice, super expensive) boat that was way longer than its slip pulled in, adding yet another obstacle to consider.

The docks at Green Turtle Club, photo from greenturtleclub.com

We started brainstorming with our starboard side neighbors, debating using his dinghy to tow us out, or redirect us if things went awry.  We discussed numerous way to tie, control, and release our lines. We were somewhat limited in our options as the boat’s deck sat several feet below the dock, making it unsafe for any of us to leap onto the moving boat. We grabbed a dockhand and got his opinion as well. 6 people and 30 minutes later, we had a workable plan though Paul didn’t like it much. The dockhand controlled our bow while the neighbors helped with the stern. We smoothly backed into the fairway away from 2 of the 3 obstacle boats, waving and yelling “thank you!” to everyone who had helped. We continued to back until we cleared the last slip and fully exited the marina. Like they say, proper preparation prevents piss poor performance!

 

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Ft. Lauderdale: Navigating through Bridge Hell

Sunset near Mosquito Lagoon

 

Sunset near Mosquito Lagoon
Sunset on the ICW

Drawbridges. Other than the shallow spots, the bridges are the next most stressful thing on the ICW (note: stressful, not scary). Though the first bridgetender in Norfolk was extremely communicative, we soon realized that’s a rarity. Eventually we got used to timing our arrival for scheduled openings and leaving space to approach the slow-opening bridges, there were still some bridges that were more exciting than they should’ve been.

Twice we had bridgetenders say, “Come on up, I’ll open when you get here,” but then not bother to tell us they were having hydraulic issues and couldn’t open. At one in NC, after some silence, I radioed to confirm the opening, and he casually told us he couldn’t open just in time for us to turn away. At another in SC, the guy was actively chatting, asking us questions about our wind generator, and it wasn’t until after we aborted our approach and asked what was going on that he was like, “Oh yeah, it’s not working. Hold on.”

ICW Bridge
Another day, another bridge.

One day in Florida we did 16 drawbridges in 33 nautical miles. It’s pure chaos on the radio with all sorts of boats talking to so many bridges on the same channel. Sometimes the bridges have 3 names, but they only respond to one – charts usually don’t have the name, so you better have a good book or website handy. Sometimes, they’ll believe you when you say you’ll arrive on time and they’ll open at the next scheduled time. Other times, if you’re not circling in front of them 5 minutes prior, they’ll tell you’re not close enough (I can’t blame them – we heard tons of people overestimating their proximity and speed to bridges. Bridges would have to be open for 15 minutes at a time if they believed these people).

Sometimes the traffic was crazy – I told a megayacht and a tugboat we’d go behind them through a bridge, which started a debate between 2 yachts and the bridgetender about who needed to go when to accommodate commercial traffic in both directions.

So when we arrived in Fort Lauderdale, we thought we were in the clear – just 3 on-demand bridges up the New River and we’d be golden.  Weather looked ominous but it wasn’t supposed to hit for over an hour, which would be enough time. We had heard that the river was narrow and the current could be vicious, so we waited until around the tide change to head up. We heard 100-foot megayachts say they had space to pass each other, so how bad could it really be?

3 Rd Ave Bridge, New River , Ft. Lauderdale
This Bridge was just the beginning of our troubles in New River.

Well, as it turns out it could be VERY BAD. We called the 1st bridge, knowing we were close, but the canal was so tight and curvy, we couldn’t yet see it. The bridge promptly filled up with car traffic, and Paul tried to hold our boat steady in the current which was not slack. Just as the bridge started to open, we lost control and had to do a 360 in a very small space to pass through successfully. I immediately called the next bridge and he gave me the bad news – the railroad bridge next to him was closed so he couldn’t open. We were stuck with only 300 yards between bridges and with a canal ~120 ft wide, minus the space taken up by boats parked on both sides. We were stuck in a bad spot. Paul managed to keep the boat steady and centered for a while with great difficulty. And then  the storm decided to make an early appearance – the wind started to gust and rain fell.

I saw a megayacht coming through the bridge behind us – I radioed them and told them proceed with caution as we were having trouble holding the boat. Just after that, Paul lost the bow and we started to spin. In the rain, in my barefeet, I slipped all over the place throwing fenders into place and grabbing the boat hook. In the land of million dollar boats, I looked up and saw that our bow was headed for – THANK GOD – the only smashed, dented steel boat in sight. Paul had the engine screaming in reverse, but with a small engine and full keel it was to no avail. I ran up the bowsprit and pressed the rubber end of the boat hook into the side of the other boat with all my strength. We just barely kissed the other boat, luckily not even scratching either boats’ paint, just as the engine dug in and we began to reverse.

“Sailing vessel, what are you trying to do here?” the megayacht asked me. Though I wanted to yell, “I TOLD YOU PROCEED WITH CAUTION M#$*(@#F*(@#,” what I actually said was, “We’re losing control, we’re going to try to tie up.”

Boat damaged by new river collision.
The boat we tapped into on New River. Note the broken window was NOT caused by us.

Luckily, Paul spotted the one empty spot on the side of the canal and headed for it. Unfortunately, our stern was headed for the pilings too quickly for me to get a fender into place and SMASH! One of the welds for the support to our solar panel pole snapped. I tried to get a line over the piling but missed. When I finally lassoed a wooden board, the boat was pulling away so I pulled my line back in. At this point, 2 construction workers (my heroes!) ran up to assist. I was able to toss lines to them, and they pulled us in to safety.

The rain poured down. I looked at Paul, who looked both dazed and defeated. Paul takes being a captain very seriously. He can skate through almost any situation by the hair on his chin, but this time his number was up. Sitting on a park bench, soaked to the bone, with his head in his hands he looked up and said, “You did great. Thanks for hanging in there with me. I’m sorry I screwed up so badly. I should have never brought us in here.” After thanking the construction workers, Paul called Cooley’s Landing Marina, which is run by the city and also owns the spot we were now sitting in, to see if we could stay here, but it was reserved for the next day. The guy from the marina even drove down to the talk to us. Maybe we could try again in the evening, at the next tide change. It was true slack tide now, but the radar showed the weather was worsening.

After a half hour or so, the marina guy called us. He said the storm actually blew out and the current is fine here, why not try now? Paul checked the radar and looked me and said, “Might as well get back on the horse, no sense in staying rattled.” I don’t know how he pulled it together so quickly and I wasn’t about to ask either. We readied our lines and called the bridge to make sure they could open. The Jungle Queen – a huge tourist ferry – radioed the bridge and said they’d be right behind us.  Another sailboat was coming the opposite way. I told the other sailboat we’d let the Queen go, then they could go, then we’d pass.

I watched the bridge open, and as soon as the Queen passed us I yelled, “Go! Go!” to Paul. He let go of his line and revved up the engine to get us off the dock and did another tight 180 in the canal to point us in the right direction.

It was smooth sailing through the next 2 bridges and we were into Cooley’s Landing Marina. It was time for a well deserved cheeseburger and several cold beers.

Later I read that the railroad bridge can stay closed for an hour, so it’s actually recommended that you are ready to tie up or even raft up (tie to other boats). On reflection, even before reading that, we realized that is what we should’ve done immediately. When we departed the marina the following week, we actually tied up to wait for both the railroad bridge and at the “scene of the crime” between the other bridges. Vehicle traffic on the bridge was bad, so 2 megayachts and a big fishing boat were waiting along with us for 20 minutes in that 300 yard span.

Let’s just say we’re glad there will be no drawbridges in the Bahamas.

How to safely navigate New River

New River was more challenging than anything else we encountered on the ICW but it is doable if you follow these 5

rules:

  1. Never go unless the weather is clear. The storm we faced was actually pretty minor, but even a little wind gust when you’re trying to hold position in tight quarters can be enough to ruin your day.
  2. Have fenders in the water on both sides and docklines ready on every cleat.
  3. At the first sign of delay tie up to the nearest empty dock space or if none are available raft up. Don’t ask permission , just do it – safety comes first.
  4. Know when slack tide is we found Noaa’s prediction to be accurate.
  5. Make sure the bridges are marked and easy to see in your chartplotter. Between the curves, trees, building and boats, some of the bridges are hard to see until you’re on top of them.

Also read both of these pages from Jordan yachts part 1 & part 2.

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2018, February 10-21 New Bern, NC to Port Royal, SC

Quit jobs: check. Pack up stuff out of Lindsey’s parents’ house: (mostly) check. Move stuff into Paul’s parents’ house: check. Head to New Bern, meet with mechanic, pick up sail, pack more food than you thought possible into boat, check out the birthplace of Pepsi, learn about how to make money blogging from a dude at the marina, untie the lines, and go: check!

Birthplace of Pepsi – Naomi’s favorite drink

Paul’s mom bravely agreed to join us for this (still cold) part of the trip. Paul and I actually really enjoyed the first part of the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) and were excited to share this part of it with her. And it didn’t disappoint! We saw a dolphin as soon as we neared the ocean at Morehead City the first day, and we saw dolphins nearly every day for the rest of the ICW. One day we headed out to sea (St Helena Sound) to avoid a shallow part of the ICW, and we saw about 40 dolphins – they swam alongside us, watching us curiously just as we watched them.

Paul and Naomi trying to stay warm on the ICW.
Lindsey and Paul chillin’ in the cockpit (on the cushions Lindsey made)
Dolphins!
Dolphin!
Dolphin in Saint Helena Sound saying “heyyyy”
This was the first dolphin to swim beside us for several minutes

We traveled typically 40-60 miles a day and anchored most nights. We anchored in fog, in swamps, in marshes, and in front of houses. I have never seen so many waterfront mansions in my life. We saw sunken boats. By Camp Lejuene, we watched ospreys fly (both the military aircraft and the birds) and experienced our first crazy storm (all wind, no lightning). At Charleston, we crossed paths with cargo ships. At Elliot’s Cut, the current helped us to set our boat’s speed record – 8.8 knots (~11 mph – not exciting for you but very exciting for us)!

Typical waterfront mansion along the ICW
The lovely ICW
A crazy storm rolling over Camp Lejuene
The usual scenery on the ICW
Somewhere on the ICW in NC
Charleston, SC

We made a friend named Steven on the radio, a solo-sailor that had moved to the east coast from California. Steven was having a hell of a time on the ICW. He’d already grounded and called Sea Tow (like AAA for boaters) several times. He crossed the Abermarle in December, ran aground, and was frozen in for 3 weeks. We’ve kept in touch, relaying messages about the shallow spots we find.

Speaking of which, we ran aground! They say on the ICW there are sailors that run aground and those that lie about it. First at Lashallotte Inlet, which we knew was a problem spot, we tried to take the Coast Guard’s advice to “hug the reds”  – well, we hugged too close, the incoming tide pushed us aside, and we were in the sand. Construction workers watched from the docks while we bounced around for half an hour until the tide rose and we were off.  Our second grounding was approaching Charleston, in the middle of the channel according to the chartplotter, but at a spot known for shoaling (that I read about only afterwards, oops). Once again, it was low tide, so 30 minutes later we had more water and with the aid of some powerboat wakes, we bounced back into deeper water. This part of the trip was definitely more stressful at low tide, and we were thankful many times we only draw 4 feet. Eventually we started using the Army Corps of Engineers surveys in combo with Robert Sherer’s ICW book – this was insanely helpful because often the chartplotter and charts are just wrong.

Expressing our feelings towards the spot where we ran aground.

Turtles, bald eagles, herons, egrets, owls, pelicans – armed with binoculars, Naomi became the official wildlife spotter.

Naomi on the lookout
Pelicans on the ICW
Turtles – Naomi counted 100 in one day
Pelicans so bold they were sitting on the crab boat’s engine

We spent Valentine’s Day at the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club and treated ourselves to SHOWERS (!!!) and a fancy dinner ashore.

Always hoping that you didn’t get wrong information about the height of the bridge
Lovely sunsets on the ICW

We weren’t on land again until the 19th when we hit Port Royal (near Beaufort), SC. Why is SC so damn charming? Spanish moss, little pastel houses, historic buildings made of oyster cement, egrets walking through the tall grass. And it was even warm here! If not for the biting gnats, it would have been near perfection.

Next to the marina in Port Royal, SC

This was Naomi’s departure point – but not before visiting the Kazoo Museum. Yes, the Kazoo Museum! It’s more like a gift shop in their warehouse, but it was well worth the laugh and we purchased one to be the waking alarm for our onboard guests (here’s looking at you, Stanley).

 

A few more days here to shop and take advantage of the marina’s free bikes and YMCA passes (hot tub, pool, and 2 saunas!), and we were back on the move.

I like to stand and steer with the helm behind me… just to make people wonder
Paul… by the wind generator mounted just high enough as to not take his head off
Cuddling while steering…. you could say we are risk takers
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2017, November 27-December 2 – Abermarle Sound to New Bern, NC

The rest of the trip was surprisingly pleasant. We weren’t as cold (partially due to heading south, but more due to Jace helping Paul fix the heater).

Heat!!!

The Abermarle Sound, with it’s nasty reputation, was calm as can be.  Paul and Jace embraced calling me “Smash Squirrel” (their commentary on my steering abilities). Boaters on the radio had good southern manners (“Good morning, Captain! Thank you for the slow pass!”) We anchored a couple nights in wide, open remoteness – just us and the stars, with water smooth as glass…. plus the occasional military jet overhead or duck hunter zipping by. Each night we anchored, I’d sit outside after dark and just listen to the silence.

Somewhere around Alligator-Pungo
Alligator River, heading for the Alligator-Pungo canal
Sunrise on the Alligator River

A boat named Dror, who had chatted with us on the radio in the Alligator River, talked us into docking at Downy Creek Marina in Belhaven, NC – several boats stayed there that night and it was fun to meet some other people.  This was also our first courtesy car experience – some marinas have a vehicle you can use without charge, but they’re often pretty sketchy and this one was no different. Jace departed us here because we would have nowhere to drop him off the next day. Hgot a ride to the Enterprise rental car, which was an hour away. I tried not to rub it in when we got to put sails up the next day after having motored every day he was aboard.

Sunrise at Dowry Creek, Belhaven, NC
Dowry Creek, Belhaven, NC
Dowry Creek Marina, Belhaven, NC

We left the boat at Northwest Creek Marina in New Bern, NC (very friendly staff, excellent monthly rates). We took the sail to Omar Sails to repair the reef point blown out the same day as the water pump incident. Our sails are homemade (by a previous owner) SailRite sails – the sailmaker was quite impressed with how good of shape the mainsail was in for its age and was really fascinated that it is so old school that you can’t even buy the tools to make them that way any more.

First time on the trip with just the 2 of us on the boat!

It was so weird to say goodbye to the boat. I wasn’t quite ready to leave. We’d been on the boat almost every weekend for almost 2 years. Now I wouldn’t see her for 2 months. In addition, I had to go back to home and work and start to think seriously about saying goodbye to people there. I had to prep for not seeing Paul for weeks while he worked in TN. All the ups and downs of doing something like this were no longer worries or fantasies – they were now realities.

Finding our descriptors at the Wright Brothers monument…
….and being a bit cheeky about it. 😉
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2017, November 26 – Getting Stuck in the Dirty Dismal

You ever watch a video of something bad happen to someone else and think it couldn’t happen to you? I suppose that’s how we felt about the all the sailing blogs we read and YouTube vlogs we watched – they’re just showcasing the crazy! This stuff doesn’t happen to everyone!

After the water pump incident, we should have known, but we needed one more event for reality to set in: Lots of things will go wrong, often, for every sailor.

We were very excited that the Dismal Swamp had recently reopened after a long closure due to Hurricane Matthew damages. With its tea-colored water and overhanging trees, plus miles of remote wildnerness and the bonus of getting to experience two locks, it sounded lovelier than the alternative Virginia Cut. We were warned that the duckweed growing on the water’s surface was clogging engine strainers, but it just added to the charm of the swamp.

After breakfast and history lessons with lockmaster Robert and saying goodbye to Stanley (his client cancelled for Monday – I tried to use this to convince him to stay but he wasn’t falling for it any more), we were off and through the drawbridge.

A Cutter Marina tradition – “coffee on the porch” – revived at the lockmaster’s house

Despite the excitement of having to worry about hitting logs floating under the boat as well as hitting branches above with the mast, it was a pretty, relatively calm trip. Very little duckweed got sucked into our strainer, which we checked religiously. In a few hours, we cleared the next draw bridge with another sail boat and headed for the final lock.

Deep Creek Drawbridge at the Dismal Swamp Canal
Deep Creek Drawbridge at the Dismal Swamp Canal
Dismal Swamp Canal… and duckweed floating on the surface
Tea colored water and floating duckweed in the Dismal Swamp Canal

The boat ahead of us slowed first. The duckweed thickened and their engine was overheating. We started to pass them, thinking we may fair better, but as we passed, we started to overheat and had to shut down as well – we checked the strainer but nothing clogged it. We dipped the boat hook into the weeds – they were inches thick, in some places approaching a foot. They were blocking our intake so the water to cool the engine couldn’t even be sucked into in the boat. The weeds were so think we weren’t sure the boats could move through it!

 

We were 100 feet from the lock entrance and unsure how to get there. We radioed the lockmaster but anything she could do with the water would only make our situation worse. We tried throwing a line – the guys on our boat and the other boat made several attempts to get the line to shore, but fell short. Paul started to dress in his wetsuit, thinking he’d swim the line to shore, while I begged him not to, just envisioning him totally tangled in the weeds. Finally we attached a plastic chug to the end of the line and someone heaved that to shore. The lockmaster, and one of many neighbors who came out to assist  (i.e., watch the show), tied our line to a cleat inside the lock, we tied our stern to the bow of the other boat, and we began to winch/pull ourselves through the weeds and into the lock.

Pulling Miss Fe into the Dismal Swamp lock, through the thick, thick duckweed
Towing the other boat through the Dismal Swamp duckweed
The lockmaster and neighbor pulling us through the duckweed into the lock
Watching the Dismal Swamp lock open after Miss Fe was lowered

The lockmaster told us we may have set the record for the longest lock ever – 2.5 hours, and we were through!

Unfortunately at this point, we were still far from the next decent stopping point in Elizabeth City. And it was starting to get dark. We passed the other boat after they lost the light at the top of their mast to a tree (Paul: Lindsey, tell them they’re heading for a tree. Me: They got it. The guy on the bow is looking up. Boat: SMASH! Light: SPLASH! Guy on other boat, to guy driving: Sorry, I thought you saw it! Paul: I told you – boating is like  TSA – see something, say something!).

The night couldn’t end without our own hiccups of course. We were aware of a railroad swing bridge that should typically be open to boat traffic, but when we got near it, it was dark and the bridge was unlit. As we got closer, our flashlights lit up a reflector – but only one so we couldn’t see which side of the opening it marked or if the bridge was even open. We approached super slowly and were uncomfortably close by the time we could see our way through.

Getting dark on the Pasquotank River

At Elizabeth City, we called the drawbridge over and over with no response. Finally the bridgetender came through: “This is the bridge! Do you need an opening?!” I tried to respond on both radios, but he couldn’t seem to hear me even though we were 100 yards or less from him. Eventually he just opened and we pulled into the Elizabeth City docks. We’d heard how much fun EC is for boaters, but we were obviously way too late in the season. We were the only boat there, a shady character tried to help us tie up the boat, and there was likely a drug deal happening in a car sitting in front of the docks. (Note to other boaters: It’s sounds like the Elizabeth City College docks are the way to go, as we later heard they let you use the showers and cafeteria).

The city saved its reputation (kind of) with surprisingly good Japanese food at the only restaurant open past 8 pm on a Sunday.  It was a nice to meet you Elizabeth City, but we’ll be gone in the morning!

Elizabeth City
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2017, November 22-25– Chesapeake Bay Herrington Harbour MD to Dismal Swamp Canal, VA

After Paul’s multi-day struggle to obtain the Vetus waterlock, it took him literally 20 minutes to install it, making this the first-ever boat project to be completed within its estimated time frame.

 

Our days at the marina went by quickly. Marina staff took pity on our “distress” situation and gave us some discounts. We enjoyed some beers overlooking the docks of Deale, but sadly we arrived too late in the evening to get the 25 cent oysters. We read the pilot notes for the Bay’s military zones and had a good laugh at all the ways the military will notify you to get out during training exercises, including but not limited to buzzing and dive bombing your vessel.

 

These couple days also gave Stanley and Jace time to scheme about how they were going to get back on the boat, and soon enough, Paul was driving back to Baltimore to pick up Stanley, who would stay through Norfolk. Jace was working in Norfolk over Thanksgiving and would join us there.

Thanksgiving Sunrise on the Chesapeake Bay

We departed Wednesday, with a gorgeous 10-15 knot wind from the north. We had just the jib out and sailed like that all day, hitting over 7 knots at times. Paul took a very long nap down below, letting the smooth motion of the boat rock him to sleep. Thirty-five nautical miles later, we anchored in the Patuxent River before sundown.

So cold, but so happy…
So, so cold,….
Cheapeake Bay sunset

The next day – Happy Thanksgiving – we motorsailed, then motored, our way to Fishing Bay (about 50 NM). It was dark when we arrived, and we noticed the bioluminescence in the water behind us. After 12 hours on the move, we opted to save our Thanksgiving meal for the next day and celebrated with hot dogs.

Relaxing sailing on the Chesapeake Bay
Stanley embraces the true benefits of “working remotely.”
Watching for cargo ships
Anchored cargo ships on the horizon
Nothing says “sexy sailor” like a fur cap… right?!
Chesapeake Bay Sunset

Friday we motored into Norfolk at sunset. I started to bake a pecan pie and prepped the turkey. The numbers on the military vessels lit up and Stanley listened to taps over the Naval base’s speakers. We kept a sharp lookout for tugs and barges against the city lights as we headed for our Portsmouth marina. After showers (yay, showers!), I continued to cook an entire Thanksgiving feast – bone-in turkey breast, stuffing, corn, mashed potatoes, gravy and dessert – my first time ever cooking Thanksgiving by myself (with gravy-master Paul’s brief assistance)!

Norfolk
Norfolk Sunset

Jace arrived with a growler-size bottle of rum, and we made the mistake of having pre-dinner dark’n’stormies. We had to celebrate the gang being back together! We then stuffed ourselves, since I had made enough food for twice as many people, and Paul immediately headed for bed. Jace and Stanley poured more rum, resulting in hours of karaoke, dancing, and waking up Paul to handfeed him pie.

Ready to drink a dark and stormy!

The next morning we were slow to rise (gee, wonder why) and I convinced Stanley he could surely stay one more day. After fuel and pumpout at a neighboring marina, we were barely on our way at 1 pm. Though only a short day of travel, it promised to be an exciting one (for the nerds we are) – with a closeup look at industrial/military Norfolk, our first “drawbridge”, and our first lock! I was actually pretty nervous about the bridge, which seems silly now – up to this point I hadn’t talked much on the VHF and none of us were sure how the whole thing really worked (even though we knew it should be basic: call bridge, ask to pass, pass when bridge opens, say thank you). I entered Hazard markers into our chartplotter for the drawbridges so they would be easy to spot and we could calculate our timing. Luckily, this first bridgetender communicated very well – I chimed into the conversation when another boat told the bridge we were coming around the bend, and the bridgetender told us to maintain pace and he timed the bridge opening perfectly for our arrival. Success!

On the water in Norfolk

I’d seen pictures of the Dismal Swamp sign online and thought for sure we couldn’t miss it, so I didn’t mark the turn in the GPS – so I laughed after Paul suddenly did a sudden 360 and yelled “Whoops!” fifty yards past the sign that none of us saw. We cruised up to the dismal swamp lock about 45 minutes prior to the next scheduled opening, so we dropped anchor to wait. The lock opened and we proceeded forward.

At the park by the Dismal Swamp Lock

The lockmaster Robert seems to have some internet fame, so I knew we were in for an experience. We secured our lines and Robert gave us a history lesson as the lock filled – George Washington owned much of the swamp but sold it and died before the completion of the canal. Supposedly Edgar Allen Poe wrote “The Raven” while in the swamp. Although tea-colored, the water of the swamp is extremely clean – NASA had planned to use it for the Apollo missions until they moved to reverse osmosis filtering instead. The lockmaster house is lined with conch shells that sailors have brought back to Robert, and he gave us a demo on how to play the shells as horns. He also asked us how, at our age, could we be doing this trip, since we’re not Canadian (apparently Canadian federal employees have a program where they can save part of their salary in order to take a paid year off) – a combo of hard work, budgeting, and a little insanity, I suppose.

The lock is graffitied with the names of the boats that have passed through it.
The crew left their mark at the Dismal Swamp Deep Creek Lock
Dismal Swamp

Since this was the last lock time of the day and stopping points in the canal are limited, Robert gave us an option we didn’t know we had – we could stay on the dock between the lock and the bridge and join him for coffee in the morning. How could we say no to that!

 

A friend of mine from college took us to dinner in Virginia Beach (Repeal Burgers = awesome) that night, but we couldn’t keep up the energy to hang out late – and we needed our energy because we didn’t know the adventure that awaited us the next day!