Berries – Pelagic Explorers

Of the thousands of islands, cays, and rocks that make up the Bahamas, only 30 are populated (though I assume this often published figure counts only those with settlements, and not the many privately owned islands). Enjoying an island that we have all to ourselves is one of our favorite things about the Bahamas.

Miss Fe motor sailing along the Berry Islands

As we approach a destination, I look for the masts of other boats peeking out from above the rocky shores and scraggly shrubs. “Wow, there are a lot of boats here!” is sometimes the somewhat disappointed cry, but often from afar, what looks to be 10 boats crowded in a little anchorage turns out to be 10 boats spread out, tucked in among various small rocks and cays, with their crew on board, leaving the islands for us to enjoy alone.

As we entered the cut at White Cay, the depth of the water drop from 50 feet to under 20, and suddenly the water was bright blue against the white cliffs of the cays and we could see the sandy bottom and bits of coral. I turned to Dave, “This is so beautiful! I can’t believe it!”

Entering the cut at White Cay to Hoffmans Cay

The turn of the boat into the cut meant we were suddenly taking waves on the side and the boat rocked. Down below, unable to see what was happening, Naomi looked alarmed by the sudden movement. “Don’t worry, we just turned,” I told her. “We’re here. Come on up. It’s gorgeous!” The landscape of the islands is more dramatic in the Berries than the northern Bahamas. I love it.

We weaved among the anchored boats and dropped our anchor in a sandy patch west the rest. Of course, a lone boat is like a magnet, so once we did this, several boats that came in later anchored closer to us. However, we have a 4 foot draft, less than most cruising sailboats, so this allows us some privacy as we can go where some others cannot.

Off to the beach we went! A white – almost pink – sand beach on White Cay beckoned us. Paul shuttled his parents to the beach with their snorkels and then came back for me. Like it often does, the clear water looked empty from above, but once we plunged beneath the surface with our masks, we could see all the little white fish that hide in the shimmer of the water. Between the rocks, we found a healthy patch of corals and plenty of fish, including a file fish that our fish ID book says is uncommon to see in the Bahamas.

Supposedly uncommon-in-Bahamas orangespotted filefish

It was approaching sunset when Paul dinghied his parents back to Miss Fe, and for a few minutes, I was queen of my own island. I ran up the hills, climbed the rocks facing the ocean, and just laughed out loud because how in the world did I get this all to myself?!

When Paul and I were in the dinghy, another boat yelled, “Beautiful sunset, right?” so we stopped to talk. The single-handed sailor told us about all the fish he caught that day and all the sharks that followed the fish to his boat.

Dave and Naomi relaxed in the cockpit. Paul planned our adventures from his berth. I cooked dinner on our 3-burner stove in our little galley. There is excellent cell phone service over most of the Bahamas, but this was one of the rare signal-less pockets that frees you from that distraction.

In the morning, we headed to a small beach on Hoffmans Cay where a trail begins. Between our boat and the beach, there was only sand and grass but plenty of critters seemed to be passing through – Paul spotted a shark; I eyed the biggest needlefish we’ve ever seen, at first mistaking it for a barracuda.

The barely-there trail lead us to this area’s main attraction – a blue hole. The trail leads to the edge of a small cliff, about 20 feet above the water’s surface. Continuing along the edge of the cliff, we found the trail goes beneath the cliff so you can enter at water’s edge. Paul insisted that I jump from the cliff. I climbed up. I hesitated. He offered to go first. He climbed up. He hesitated! (We’ve both had negative cliff jumping experiences in the past.) He shimmied to a lower ledge and we both jumped from there. I tried not holding my nose but instinctively did anyway, and then I tried to let go of my nose and ended up swallowing a ton of water! Bleh!

Hoffmans Cay Blue Hole Berry Islands Bahamas — Not so graceful leaping into Hoffmans Blue Hole (click photo to enlarge)

We snorkeled the blue hole, admiring the rocks, but you can’t see the bottom in most places. We spotted a sea turtle and followed him until he disappeared into the depths. We wondered where the hole opens to the sea to let him in there.

Sea turtle in Hoffmans Blue Hole Berry Island Bahamas — Sea turtle in Hoffmans Blue Hole

Hoffmans Cay Blue Hole Berries Bahamas — Into the abyss

When we were done swimming, we ran back to the beach to escape the no-see-ums swarming around the the blue hole. There were sting rays hanging out in the shallows. Dave named one of them Fred.

Naomi watches as Paul films Fred the stingray

Paul took Dave and me to the deep side of White – he dropped us in and we swam with the current, admiring some large stands of coral and plenty of trigger fish, until I got cold and waved Paul over to pick us up.

We headed back to yesterday’s beach and walked over the rocks to dry off. There are hermit crabs EVERYWHERE – on the trails, rolling down hills, climbing in the bushes. We were fascinated and careful not to step on them! The curly tailed lizards ran around, waiting until you were nearly on top of them to reveal themselves and scurry away.

We watched an awesome sunset from the boat. We heard the radio crackle with boats calling for Flo’s Conch Bar – a bar miles away that sits by itself on an island – I’m not certain if the owner even lives there. Though we were curious about the bar, the last weather forecast we’d seen indicated that sooner rather than later would be better for travel, so we skipped the famous rum punches and headed for Nassau the next day.

This would be our last “deep water” passage for a while, and Paul was glad to be getting these 40 miles over with so he didn’t have to think about them any more. Swells were large enough to rock the boat a bit, but not so large that I should have been seasick, yet for some reason I was feeling the queasiest I’ve ever felt on our boat. I spent most of the day down below closing my eyes while Paul and Dave took turns steering. The wind was light and we, like all the other boats within view, started with sails up but soon took them down to motor.

Sometimes we wonder what strange things we may encounter at sea. I was sitting on the bow of the boat, staring out at something suspicious.

“Is there a boat ahead?” Paul asked me.

“No…. but there’s a funnel cloud forming.”

As a kid, I loved the movie Twister, and thought being a tornado chaser was cool (though scary). Never did I expect that it would be sailing that would expose me to that type of natural wonder.

Eyes glued to the sky, we watched the clouds swirl, and indeed the funnel cloud began to stretch from the sky towards the water, directly in our path…

After spending a night at anchor outside the island, we motored gently though the imposing pass that had been cut straight through coral rock some 60 years prior. The marina at Great Harbour is tucked into a very impressive hurricane hole with outstanding protection from every direction. We checked in with customs/immigration (they gave us a full 6 months here) and after some quick showers, we proceeded to rent a car from Krum’s Grocery Store. It didn’t take long to realize this island was different than anything we had visited prior. It had beautiful grand buildings everywhere but they all lay in ruin. It turns out that in the late 1960’s some $38 million was invested into making this the an island paradise for the rich and famous. A top notch golf course was built with an extraordinary clubhouse. Jack Nicklaus was even hired to promote the island and given a house. (If you want to golf, bring your clubs and balls as the 9 holes are still maintained by the HOA). A private club and a great beach resort was also constructed along with numerous condos, villas, and bungalows. We were lucky to meet an American woman whose family had owned a home here since the glory days, and she told us stories about dinners at the club house and the everyone being “dressed to the nines.” This place had class that we just don’t see anymore. I wanted so very much to sip a Manhattan at the pool with the movie stars but alas we were left to explore post apocalyptic ruins. It was heartbreaking to see the the foundation of the clubhouse was still in good shape. It wasn’t a hurricane that caused its demise but neglect and abandonment.

I could still drink a Manhattan by the pool, but…

It was then I remembered the Bahamas resist change, they resist occupation, and they resist persecution. The Bahamas are meant to be free. Some have changed an island here or there but as I see time and time again, nature in the Bahamas is always ready to take back what is hers. When the losses become more then the rich can bear, the buildings fail, the concrete cracks and what’s left behind is the true magic of the Bahamas that we love so very much.

Club House… decorated for Halloween complete with “body bags” (stuffed with leaves)

After viewing the old clubhouse ruins we made our way into the town of Bullocks Harbour where all the locals live. We drove up and down the streets with our useless guidebooks trying to find any restaurant that was still open, only to give up and pull into Brown’s Garden, which is not listed in any guidebook but clearly is the place to be in town. We all affectionately refer to it as “Ronnie’s place” after the proprietor Ronnie “the entertainer”. Ronnie wasted no time in serving up an ice cold round of Kalik beers for the very fair price of 3 for $10. He then asked if it was our first time in the Bahamas to which Naomi replied an enthusiastic, “Yes!” Seeing that we had ordered cracked conch Ronnie said to Naomi, “Come wit me m’am. I got someting to show yah”. I instantly knew what was up and grabbed a camera as we all piled out of the bar and across the street to the water where in a tiny little cove lied several thousand empty conch shells. Ronnie pulled on a old weathered rope and up came half a dozen conch. He pulled two off and expertly began showing Naomi how to remove and clean them.

Of course the part we were all waiting for came when he removed the translucent crystaline style from the conch’s body and offered it to Naomi. It looks like a piece of clear spaghetti. Naomi looked hesitantly to us and we reassured her that everybody does it. She slurped it down as we all giggled. While we have all tried it before, we didn’t mention that it’s widely referred to as an aphrodisiac by the locals. Ronnie was living up to his name the entertainer, and well, the food doesn’t get much fresher.

The next local we encountered was Hubert “Da Fishman”. Hubert was part entrepreneur and part hustler. He rented boats, fishing guides, sold beer and tobacco (only when they were processing the catch) and had all the best fresh fish on the island. He was also located about 100 yards down the dock and became pretty good entertainment every evening when he would arrive with his gang of fishing boats and fishermen. Most days they would show up with piles of conch, lobster, snapper, hogfish, yellowtails and more – all available at very reasonable prices like the lobster at $12 a pound tails only. Dave and even more so Naomi were instantly captivated by this and asked us to cook some up for them. So I ordered up three pounds of lobster tails from Hubert. Hubert grumbled to one of his guys who tossed up a bag and weighed it. Hubert, not liking what he saw, grumbled something about a new scale and came over to inspect it. Now we were all thinking the tare was off and we would probably loose a tail. On the contrary, after inspection Hubert ordered up another small tail for us and we promptly paid him. I didn’t weigh them but it sure as heck felt like more than 3 pounds to me and came out to 6 tails. We broiled up 4 tails with creole herb butter and used the remaining two to make lobster scampi which was pretty darn tasty.

We were treated very well at the marina in addition to Hubert having fresh fish most days. Monday and Wednesday the dockmasters took orders for fresh bread. The banana bread was the best any of us have ever had. There was also pizza night where wonderful pizzas were delivered piping hot right to your boat. But the best value was the $10 Friday night BBQ where chicken, ribs, steak, corn, mac and cheese, and peas in rice were served up in generous portions to cruisers and pretty much everybody else on the island that had access to cars or even bicycles. It was all great, but we loved the mac and cheese with its spicy kick. Yep that’s right when you add some tangy Louisiana hot sauce to mac and cheese something truly magical happens.

While we still had the car for another day, we drove the length of the island. On the northeast side there are more club ruins. An unassuming driveway takes you uphill to the walls and patios of an oceanside club where the Rat Pack hung out and where it was said that the french owner/bartender liked to serve drinks while naked. He was french after all. The only guest there now was a Bahamian racer snake!

Nearby, a pullout led to a small sandy beach with rocky cliffs and a cave. The contrast of this landscape compared to the Abacos was startling! And of course, where there is a rock to climb, we must climb it.

Continuing our tour of the beaches, we also explored the Beach Club – an outdoor restaurant and bar overlooking yet another beautiful beach and serving surprisingly good and fresh food.

We headed south towards the sand bars near Haines Cay. The paved road ends with a several-inch drop off to a rough, rocky dirt road that makes you question if the path is actually intended for cars. As usual, Lindsey was driving as she has mastered “left to live” driving and doesn’t get too freaked out by the massive potholes or it seeming like everyone is on the “wrong” side of the road. However, she didn’t have faith that the little car could handle some off-roading.

“I don’t know if I can take the car down this!” Lindsey said.

“The lady said to take the dirt road all the way to the beach!” Dave urged.

“Just do it!” I chimed in.

Nervously, slowly, she proceeded forward while the rest of us volunteered steering directions to try to avoid the divots, rocks, and bushes scraping the car’s paint. Amazingly, we only bottomed out once and didn’t knock any parts off the car. The road ends at the mouth of Shark Creek, where a huge hammerhead was once tagged. The beach itself is clear water over shallow white sand, and at low tide many sand dollars and mysterious creatures of the sea can be found. The snorkeling at Haines wasn’t great (sounds like Hawsknest is better) but we did see a huge barracuda and a lobster.

Tailgating after surviving the drive down the dirt road

Mystery creature – guesses include sea pickles and moss animals

After returning our rental car to Krum’s, we had to find new forms of transportation since the marina is a bit of a walk from many of the restaurants and attractions. We took to the dinghy to explore what is left of the former drug dealer island Cistern Cay. Putting 4 adults in the inflatable dinghy is not usually something we do, and will try to avoid repeating, but we all made it there safely though perhaps a little wet! We forgot the map of course, so we didn’t find the little blue hole or the wrecked plane, though we heard the plane isn’t much to see. The drug dealer island was pretty interesting though – there are ruins of homes with great views, an extensive road system, old cars, and even a go-kart locked in a garage. However, the joke has become, “What they call ‘ruins’ in the Bahamas, we would just call ‘abandoned’ in Tennessee!”

We had dinner at Carriearl, a boutique hotel that offers rides from the marina to their restaurant. We took the ride with another couple and enjoyed talking with them over drinks while we waited for dinner. The house that was converted into the hotel and restaurant was once owned by fashion critic Mr. Blackwell. Carriearl is run by a British couple with a few employees, but they seemed to having a hell of a night. The place was busy, and the power went out a few times, though hardly anyone batted an eye as this happened. However, the water wouldn’t turn back on, so now, in addition to serving drinks, taking orders, giving rides, and supervising the cook, the owners were also running from pool-to-bathroom with buckets of water to flush the toilet! Despite the chaos (and varying quality of our dishes), the ambiance of this restaurant is really fantastic and we had a lot of fun.

The marina also offers bikes. Lindsey and I took these into town one afternoon on a search for beer and food – turns out if you are willing to ride into town and up and over the hill, you can buy a 6-pack for $10 rather than pay Hubert $24! By the time we found the beer, had snacks while watching the sunset at Coolie Mae’s (it took a while… island time, mon… they were making the conch fritter batter fresh), and ordered conch salad at Ronnie’s, it had gotten dark. Really, really dark.

Lindsey assessed the situation. “OK, we weren’t planning on being on out past dark…. so I didn’t bring the headlamps. And now it’s dark AND raining. So this should be a fun ride back, right?” My wife has a twisted idea of fun. Time for another one of Lindsey’s death marches I muttered under my breath.

We put our food in the baskets, got on the bikes and started pedaling furiously through town. There are some infrequent street lamps to light the way – and the potholes. Lots and lots of potholes… some deep… some really deep. “Hole!” we yelled to one another. “Car!” If the car was on our side of the road, we’d scurry into the grass or bushes to avoid being hit. If the car was coming the opposite way, we’d use the shadows cast by the headlamps to scope out the upcoming potholes. Lindsey giggled most of the way home. Like I said, twisted idea of fun.

Having spent a week in Great Harbour, we made some friends at the marina. We were docked between two boats with chefs, one of which was a fishing boat, so we got spoiled with wahoo sashimi and sushi. We got tips for the rest of our trip and got to hear some wild stories about working on mega yachts… especially ones that the owners sink for fraudulent insurance claims! Another neighboring boat was Jack Nicklaus’s yacht, and it sure looked like he was onboard, though we only saw the crew step foot on land. Nicklaus himself may have been out fishing on one of the yacht’s three flats fishing boats.

We enjoyed walking up and down the docks, spotting critters – lots of sergeant majors, little fish, an occasional nurse shark, barracudas – even an octopus! (What we didn’t enjoy was climbing up and down the docks – our boat is low and the docks are high, so our climbing moves got a workout at low tide!)

Despite the magic of this place, it is not all that popular for cruising boats to stop here. (To clarify, in our world, “cruisers” or “cruising” refers to people socially boating on sailboats or trawlers, to distinguish from racing boats, not to be confused with cruise ships!)This adds to its allure as we love to have a place to ourselves or shared with only a few other cruisers. The crazy part is – just to the north are the Stirrup Cays, where cruise ships send folks to enjoy the Berry Island beaches with hundreds of other people – while just a few miles south, you can have the beaches all to yourself!

We set sail from the marina, planning to round the Stirrup Cays to head south along the eastern side of Great Harbour. A dolphin jumped in our bow wake and a giant loggerhead turtle floated by, ensuring this forgotten island wouldn’t be forgotten by us.