Long Island Adventures and Baby Boomers On Board

 

These events took place in March 2019

 

A little background here:

I was always a goody-goody kid. Followed the rules, saved my money, did my homework, didn’t call off work unless I was sick. I get it from my parents. They are, in general, extremely responsible adults.

So their reaction was no surprise, in 2015, when I told them we’d done something irresponsible like make an offer on a boat.  I had sent a picture of it first, so they knew how big and how theoretically expensive it was. Their reaction was, “Well, for your sake, I hope your offer isn’t accepted!” and “You know the best two days of a boat owner’s life are the day the buy it and the day they sell it!” That probably sounds worse in writing than it did over the phone – they were nice about it; they just were very obviously shocked and concerned.

Given that initial reaction, you might imagine my hesitation to tell them that Paul wasn’t joking that time my dad asked him why we bought a bought, and he responded with “to go to the Bahamas, and maybe through the Caribbean and the Panama canal.” We’d picked a departure date less than a year away, and I hadn’t told my parents yet.

“You HAVE to tell them,” Paul demanded one weekend as I headed over to my parents’ house to watch the Steelers game.

Time was running out before the game began. 20 minutes to go. “I have something to tell you,” I blurted out.

My mom had so many worries instantly spring up after I told them we’d be leaving for the Bahamas in 10 or so months that she had to walk out of the room, either to calm herself down to keep from hearing any more about it. My older brother researched the trip and how many people do it every year to show my mom this was something a lot of people do very safely, but I’m not sure how much that helped.

A year and a half later, after we’d proven we could get to the Bahamas and back with boat and body all intact, my dad started talking about coming to visit, and even sleeping on the boat a few nights. “Stay on the boat…??” my mom uttered, eyes wide.

I didn’t know if the visit was really going to work out, so when my parents booked the plane tickets from the US to Long Island, I was THRILLED (like multiple-occasions-of-spontaneous-tears-of-joy-muttering-“I’m just so excited”-type of thrilled).

We had to be strategic about their visit though. This being a totally new experience for them (they’d been on board for a ride only once, for less than an hour, under motor), combined with the fact that we wouldn’t be staying at marinas (i.e. no showers!), we weren’t sure how much they’d want to stay on the boat. This meant finding an island with an anchorage easily accessible to hotels or vacation homes, and not much island hopping, since we couldn’t guarantee that the weather would allow us to sail to their reservation on time. Not to mention, on some of these remote islands, your accommodations (assuming  you want “American standards”) can easily cost you $200-400 a night, (and of course there are always places to spend more). And without a fast boat to take us island hopping, how much would my parents get to see?

When we decided to head Long Island, we recognized this might be the perfect opportunity for my parents to join. It was the turnaround point, so we’d be taking them to places we’d already researched. Plus these were bigger islands with multiple towns so we’d have plenty to explore even though we wouldn’t be moving the boat a lot. With about 40 miles between Long Island and Exuma, they were guaranteed a “real” sailing experience, but it would be shallow enough to see the bottom most of the way, so it didn’t seem so intimidating.

When we got to Long Island, we had a week until my parents arrived, so we set off around the island to find things to do and places to stay.

Drinkin’ at Tiny’s

Thompson Bay is a sweet location. There is a secluded beach bar (with accommodations) called Tiny’s on the north side of the bay, and one family owns several businesses along the water and has built a public dock on their property, which leads you right to a grocery store, bar, and car rental ($60 or 70 a day for car rental, in cash, but when you rent the second time and they trust you, you get the option to pay upon return! I thought this was funny.) You need the car as the mile is 80 miles long with a paved “highway” but otherwise a lot of crappy roads. It’s best to have the car for at least 2 days so you can spend one day to the north and another day to the south. My parents were appreciative of us researching places to stay ahead of time, since some of the coolest sounding ones would have involved driving down the pothole-riddled dirt road 20 minutes each way every day.

My advice for Long Island is head to Santa Maria resort first (during happy hour for the free conch fritters). The manager at the restaurant there (Canadian guy) is full of tips for exploring some off-the-charts places on the island, and we didn’t get to hit all of them because we didn’t chat with him early enough!

Santa Maria’s happy hour

We did have fun exploring, both by land and by water. In addition to checking out Thompson Bay and Dean’s Blue Hole (see previous blog post), we did a lot of driving around the island. We hung out in the waves of the Love Pools.

Floating in Love Pools

 

Waves crash at Love Pools

We snorkeled the Coral Gardens – an area that, had it not been hit by Hurricane Joaquin (2015), would’ve had some of the most impressive coral structures we’d seen. Unfortunately it showed almost no signs of recovery and Paul said it was the most depressing snorkeling he’d ever done.

I went to morning yoga, hosted by some of the American home-owners, but I regretted it as the no-see-ums were vicious (this is why we live on a boat, far away from the land-lubber bugs!)

We tried to get to the Columbus statue, but they are building a development in that area and the road was all torn out. We tried to walk the rest of the way but it was near sunset and the malicious mosquitoes sent us sprinting back to the car.

I can’t believe believe we didn’t get the car stuck
Running to Columbus. If we’re fast enough, maybe the mosquitoes won’t catch us!

We spent a day watching kids sailing dinghy races and stayed through lunch and dinner, buying  many hamburgers and hotdogs at their fundraiser (real ground beef – what a treat!).

(I don’t remember if we’d mentioned before, but at this point in time, Paul was under the impression that he wasn’t going to get work assignments for the upcoming summer. This news had been a gray cloud following him around, but when we were in Long Island, he got a call that their was potential work in Poland. Spoiler alert: Poland didn’t pan out but work in the US did. I mention this because, since I’m writing this 2 years later, the Poland call seems to be the catalyst for something else Paul has been scheming up! More to come on that in a future post.)

Finally the day came when my parents were to arrive! That afternoon we stood outside the tiny airport and watched them land in a surprisingly not-so-small plane.

After they checked into their AirBnB, we took them to Thompson Bay Club – it was a great introduction to your typical Bahamaian restaurant. Semi run down building, where we ordered food at the bar, on a tiny slip of paper where you circled the meal you wanted (Ok, maybe it was unusual to have a menu – often they just ask “chicken, fish or conch?”). Then we sat in a little dining room in the back, full of ex-pats who rotate restaurants based on the happy hour specials. Overall, we were pleased with most of our dishes.

Fortunately, my parents seem to be a magnet for good food. After eating so many mediocre, overpriced meals, we found a lot of good or great meals with my parents around:

Chez Pierre, a French restaurant, which also has beach front cottages which you can rent at a pretty reasonable price considering the food is included (if you like a no frills vacation).

The deck at Chez Pierre
Did we mention Chez Pierre has fill-your-own drinks?

The marina in Clarence Town, lobster pizza and happy hour at Santa Marina, Tiny’s the beach bar that also has adorable cottages;

Clarence Town Marina
Well fed and happy

more drinks at Tiny’s!

…and even back at Georgetown, at Peace and Plenty, Blu, and Splash. (The only place we failed them was cracked [fried] conch, which was chewy and not tender when they got it.)

We had a beach day at Dean’s Blue Hole, where we found out my dad’s mustache is not suitable for mask wearing and snorkeling.

Kathy and Kerry so happy to be at the beach!
Kathy at Dean’s Blue Hole, just steps away from 663 feet of pure deepness.

We saw beautiful churches and sharks in Clarence Town.

 

We went shopping at Judee’s Creations, which is part unique craft shop and part museum, showing the ‘old way of life’ with artifacts she kept from her family. Judee is the sweetest lady so we bought some teas and souvenirs.

Judee's Gifts and Souvenirs
Judee’s Gifts and Souvenirs
The museum at Judee’s

We hiked to  the Shrimp Hole, which is quite literally a hole in the rock full of tiny red shrimp.

The trail to shrimp hole starts at the old church

Kerry at shrimp hole
A crab eating a shrimp from the shrimp hole

One of the highlights of Long Island was the Hamilton Cave tour, with Leonard Cartwright as our guide. The cave has been in his family since 1849. He grew up playing hide and seek in the caves, and he has hunkered down in them, with many other people from the community, for protection during hurricanes. There are crabs living in the caves and it was fun to spot them in the holes.

Hamilton Cave
I realize this is blurry but it gives perspective
A resident of Hamilton Cave

The true highlight of the cave tour was after my mom commented that one rock formation looked like “a fat lady’s bottom,” Leonard exclaimed “Oh, we’ve got a fun group today!” He then gave us the inside scoop on the formations that he and his friends identified when they were kids, including “big willy” and “small willy!”

One of the willies!

The original plan for departing Long Island was to get my parents on the boat the day before setting sail, so they’d have a night to get settled in. However, we checked the forecast, and if we wanted to sail, we had to leave that day since there was no wind predicted for the next several days. Thankfully, the owner at Tiny’s was nice enough to allow us use to their wonderful dinghy dock to load up my parents and their luggage (since there were no cottage guests that morning). Otherwise it would have been a struggle on the steep ladder of the public dock. The morning was overcast and the water had a bit of a chop, so the short dinghy ride was a bit of an adventure and my dad said it made him feel like he was a contestant on the show Survivor!

Lindsey pulling up the anchor. She appreciated her parents acknowledging her newfound muscles!
A fellow boat heading from Long Island to the Exumas

We had good wind and started sailing straight out of Thompson Bay. Like every time we have guests on the boat, a dolphin darted past the boat to say hello. We talked on the radio with another boat of retired biologists that I’d previously befriended on facebook since they were fellow scuba divers. My mom was shaking with nervousness at the start of the trip, but when the waves picked up, I just smiled and she relaxed. Soon enough, she was doing better than me as I felt a twinge of sea sickness, but my mom was happily chatting in the cockpit with Paul and my dad was climbing up on the bow.

Look at those capable sailors!
Kerry loving every minute of the sail
Kathy getting into the sailing spirit
Kerry having his Titanic moment

After about 4.5 hours of decent sailing, the rain came in and pushed the winds out. We started up the motor and my parents went down below for a nap. Our chartplotter was mounted on a swinging arm  inside the boat, and when underway, we’d swing it out to the cockpit through the companionway. Paul had built a hatchboard with a window in it so we could close everything but still see the chartplotter, but we hadn’t needed to use it (or at least not since the cold days on the Chesapeake). On this day we put the window board into place and closed up the hatch to keep the rain from dripping down inside the boat. We laughed about how we’re normally smart enough not to travel on days like this!

George Town – ho!
That fun moment where you’re trying to prevent the sail from dropping in the water.

After a few more hours, the rain started to clear and as the sun was setting, we made our way into the George Town anchorage to begin part 2 of my parents’ adventure.

The end of the road, southern Long Island

Way Down We Go…

These events took place in March 2019.

We were off to George Town on Great Exuma. We weren’t sure if we were going to love or hate George Town. It’s a famous cruiser gathering spot – with up to 300 boats during regatta time. We purposely planned our arrival for after regatta and felt pretty good about that decision after our friends described the social drama as “70 year olds acting like they are still in high school.” But other friends told us that they never got bored when they spent several weeks there last year, so we were trying to keep an open mind.

It was a decent day for sailing, with some swell but at an angle that wasn’t too bothersome. We would have sailed nearly the whole way, except we’d put in a bad coordinate and already had the sail down by the time we realized we had at least another hour until the inlet. Having already tidied the lines and sail bags, we were too lazy to raise sails again.

Approaching all the boats in the harbour felt as overwhelming as walking up to New York City after a month alone in the woods. Immediately we saw boats we knew – Cohort, One-O-Six, Holiday, Sklibadnir, other boats from our marina in Florida, and boats we recognized from Instagram.

Elizabeth Harbour – the most boats we’ve anchored with since…. ever.
Adastra (aka the spaceship), the most unusual boat in the harbour

Most boats hang out closer to Stocking Island, across the harbor from George Town. Hungry for dinner, we went ashore on Stocking. Despite the presence of 1000 people on boats and multiple boutique hotels and restaurants, there is nothing open for dinner on a Thursday night.  So back into the dinghy we went and over to town. We found Eddie’s. Even though we said over and over how we were sick of fried Bahamian food, this place made us like it again with tasty fried seafood, huge portions, good prices, and working A/C in the dining room.

Georgetown at sunset
Church in Georgetown
Abandoned resort at Georgetown

Our time in George Town was filled with the usual tasks of any visit to a population center (population: 1500 + boaters) – grocery shopping, water fillups (free here, unlike other places), Paul’s haircut, laundry.

Throw your trash in the back, throw disposal fee money in the front window
Doc the bartender at Peace & Plenty – he’s worked there for decades

But we soon discovered something very special here to occupy our time: the blue holes. Mystery Cave is a popular snorkeling spot in Stocking Island’s protected mooring hole. But I saw on the charts that there was a second blue hole (underwater sink hole or cave) marked near the mooring balls. We went for a snorkel to assess the caves for possible scuba diving. Mystery Cave was full of fish due to tourists feeding them but the entrance to the other hole, Angelfish Blue Hole, was about 30-40 feet underwater and didn’t look like much while we were snorkeling. This was going to be our first time getting the scuba gear out this year, and I was a bit nervous about having our first dive be in the overhead environment of Mystery Cave. Angelfish, on the other hand, went nearly straight down. This seemed like a safer “warm up” so I talked Paul into starting there. I did my research on the holes – to dive them, you must go on a falling tide when the current is flowing out of the hole and not sucking you in. We picked a time to check them out the next day.

Arriving at Angelfish, we saw the local dive boat offloading people into the water. That was great confirmation that my research on the safe time to dive was accurate! We anchored the dinghy, strapped on our gear, and plunged into the water. We followed the dive group down and Paul moved ahead of the pack. I, however, came to a near stop at 60 feet down. The cave narrowed a bit here and the force of the outflowing water seemed stronger. My BCD (the inflatable diving vest) wasn’t strapped tightly enough to me and the flow of water rushed in between my back and the vest, pulling me backwards. I pinned myself to a rock on the side and signaled to Paul that I was having trouble descending and we headed back up. I adjusted the straps, but having already used some of our air, we decide not to head back down the blue hole. Instead we headed over to the Mystery Cave entrance and used up our air hanging out with all the fish at only about 12 feet under water.

at the Mystery Cave entrance

The next day we tried the blue hole again. We had it to ourselves this time, and without a bunch of extra people to scare off the animals, the wildlife show was amazing. As we decended to the entrance, about 30 feet under the surface, eagle rays swam by and continued to make laps, so we could watch their sillouettes pass overhead as we sat at the bottom.  As we entered the hole, we spooked a school of jacks. They emerged from the darkness below, but circled the blue hole for the rest of our dive. Eagle rays, shmeagle rays…”The jacks stole the show!” Paul declared. At 90+ feet we reached the bottom, where the biggest angelfish we’ve ever seen dodged in and out of the tunnel entrances – tunnels that go who knows how far before opening to the ocean. Humongous lobsters peeked out from behind rocks at 60 ft.  It was really one of the best dives we’ve ever done. We posted the video a while back, but if you haven’t seen it, check it out:  https://pelagicexplorers.com/2019/03/06/blue-hole-diving/

Paul, eagle ray, jacks  and other fish swimming over Angelfish hole
Lindsey at bottom of Angelfish hole – the cave continues through a tunnel behind her

The day after that we dove Mystery Cave, this time going into the cave – it’s wide inside but as you descend you can only see the glow of light from the entrance, making it a bit creepy. There is not much to see inside the cave since the fish like to hang outside where people feed them. Of note, cave diving is a specialty and we  do not encourage it without appropriate training!

Mystery Cave

We loved Angelfish so much we dove it again and again. We took friends a few times. We hadn’t got as much diving in as we hoped in the Bahamas since most of the areas we hang out are shallow enough for snorkeling, and the deeper areas are usually a little more remote than what we feel comfortable diving with just 2 people in a little inflatable dinghy without much horsepower. But between Angelfish and the next dive we had planned, lugging along the dive gear and compressor was completely worth it.

Happy Angelfish blue hole divers

There are more caves to explored in this area too, particularly near Crab Cay.  We used this map. https://sites.google.com/site/minnswatersports/maps  The Crevasse near the bridge is pretty large and diveable, but the water there is not the clearest. We snorkeled the opening, and I didn’t much appreciate that the barracuda there kept getting closer when I turned my back (they are always creepily curious, but usually back off more quickly than this one did). We intended to go back for a dive but never made it. The caves along Crab Cay are small openings with outflowing water. They are somewhat difficult to find, but attract a surprising amount of fish. One of them had a puffer that kept making me laugh – he’d burst out of the cave like, “Hello, world!”, catch sight of us, panic and dash back inside.

Do you see the shrimp?

This area also has buoys to mark many of the top snorkeling spots. We spotted our first Hawksbill turtle on one of these reefs! https://elizabethharbourpartnership.org/community/interactive-snorkeling-buoy-map/

When we were above water, we checked out the too-competitive-for-us volleyball at Chat’n’Chill, joined fellow cruisers for the “rake’n’scrape” music and dancing at Eddie’s (well, Paul doesn’t dance, but everyone else did), hosted some dinners, attended some dinners, crashed a French Canadian bonfire, and went to the Bahamian music festival, where I finally got to see a Junkanoo parade!

Chat n Chill Beach
volleyball at Chat n Chill
Dancing at Eddie’s
Junkanoo Parade at the Heritage Music Festival

One of the goals for this year had been to go to somewhere truly remote – perhaps Andros, the Raggeds, or an island in the middle of the tongue of the ocean – basically to go somewhere only our boat could take us. Cohort was heading to the Raggeds, so I teamed up with them to put a lot of pressure on Paul to join them.  This season he had started to worry more about something happening to the boat while we were far for help. Every noise or puff of smoke from our engine – which had given us no problems after the work we put into it back in the Chesapeake Bay – left him paranoid for days. But we finally had him convinced to do the trip, as long as there were no west winds expected. But then 40 knots of west wind popped into the forecast. Over several days, I begged him to wait for a forecast that actually was close enough to our travel dates to be worth a damn. At over a week out, there was no use in even looking at the weather.

Unfortunately, the forecasters couldn’t seem to decide if the weather was going to be completely benign or really awful. The worst of the forecasts said:

“developing meso-scale cyclone (a small, regionally-sized developing area of low pressure)…and may support wind potentially from any direction (though the prevailing wind direction should be N-E, there may be intervals of wind from any direction)…at speeds averaging 20-40k, but with at least 50k in T-strms associated with each IMPULSE. In addition, expect waterspouts especially near each IMPULSE, as surface winds are NE-ENE / winds above the surface veer S / winds aloft are strong and WSW…so there’s a lot of vertical wind speed and direction shear.)”

A storm rolls over Stocking Island

Without any certainty in the forecast, we decided to head to Long Island, where Thompson Bay offered protection from most directions, including the west. Cohort would be continuing on to Turks & Caicos from the Raggeds so we said goodbye over the radio as we both headed out of Elizabeth Harbour.

We were motoring straight into the wind. We didn’t put up sails as our boat doesn’t point (sail into the wind) well. When the wind picked up and we slowed to under 2 knots, Paul started to get upset – he hates going slow and started to challenge me, “Do you think this is fun?!” I said yes, because the speed, or lack thereof, really doesn’t bother me. But we decided to put up a sail to see if it would help, even going into the wind, and wouldn’t you know, we were suddenly going 6 knots! That’ll teach us to doubt our sailboat’s ability to sail!

We sailed past White Cay, where one of the Pirates of the Carribean movies filmed a scene. Dolphins checked out the boat. With our new found speed, we could see Long Island in the distance as the sun went down. As we entered the anchorage, the woman who owns the Fair Haven house on the hill radioed us to welcome us to the bay. We heard the music from the Mutton Festival, reminding me I had wanted to get here in time for the festival but we had missed it, oh well!

We knew Long Island would be our furthest point south. What was the big draw here? Dean’s Blue Hole, one of the deepest blue holes in the world at 663 ft.

The blue hole is on the opposite side of the island, so we needed a car. Long Island is 80 miles long, so we rented the car for a couple days so we could go exploring. From Thompson Bay, you can get to very sturdy dinghy dock, a well-stocked grocery, the car rental place, the farmers market, the mechanic, Tiny’s Hurricane Hole Beach Bar, another bar in town, the gas station, and even some explorable caves. But there is so much more on this island, so the $60/day-cash-only car rental is worth it.

Dean’s Blue Hole

Given the hassle of hauling our scuba gear across the island, we thought we’d rent a 2nd set of tanks so we could dive the blue hole twice without having to return to our boat for air refills. Google listed a dive shop near our anchorage, but we found out it had closed years ago. This meant the closest place to rent dive gear was Stella Maris resort – 40 minutes north of our boat, while Dean’s Blue Hole was 40 minutes south of the boat! Once again, we felt very glad to have our own gear and compressor so we could make this dive happen!

Feeling good before diving Dean’s Blue Hole

The funny thing was, we ended up not needing that 2nd tank at all. Originally we discussed diving to 110 ft – which would be record for us. Then we decided on 100 ft. The plan was to head straight to our planned depth and slowly make our way back up. Paul was going to stay above me by a few feet to film my descent. Well, let me tell you: diving head first into a 663 feet  black hole for the first time is intimidating. (“It’s all in your mind!” an experienced friend told us. “But it’s hard when your mind is with you on the dive!” Paul retorted.) I slowed my breathing and swam on.

The visibility here supposedly can be great, but when you have a bunch of little kids swimming around, kicking loads of sand everywhere, that tends not to be the case.

About 30 feet under, Paul descending into Dean’s Blue Hole

We knew that the hole would widen at 70 feet from around 100-ft-diameter to over 300-ft-diameter. As I hit the 50 foot mark, I saw the scales shimmering on the backs of tarpon who were gliding out from their hiding spot under that 70-foot-ledge.  I tried to think about how cool the video of me swimming with tarpon would be, but I wasn’t really expecting creatures to pop out from under the ledge like that. Tarpon aren’t any sort of threat, though they freak some people out since they can get up to 8 feet long. These ones were only around 3-5 ft.

Paul’s mind was going similar places. We had heard larger animals like tarpon and sharks are sometimes spotted in Dean’s, but given that the top of the hole is surrounded by cliffs and shallow beach, we figured that was quite rare and were not expecting it. He started to think, if there are tarpon under that ledge, what else could be there? Normally seeing a shark on a dive is no big deal, but being in an enclosed space with one? We weren’t quite ready for that.

Bang-bang-bang. Paul was whacking his knife against his tank to get my attention. He signaled for me to come up. I ascended from around 60 feet and we rested on a ledge back at 50. I hadn’t realized how much my heart was pounding and was glad to sit and rest. We spent the rest of the dive circling near the surface. The fish and coral are only in the first 30 feet anyway. Plus we had fun pretending to “fall in” and “climb out” of the hole.

Around 50 feet down in Dean’s Blue Hole

 

Once we were back on the surface, in 2 feet of crystal clear water and white sand, I said to Paul, “Honestly…. I don’t need to dive that again.” Paul felt the same way – glad to have done it but okay with never doing it again!

Long Island, like much of the Bahamas, is full of caves and blue holes, so weren’t done exploring. There are several marked in Thompson Bay, so we would go on dinghy rides to explore and spearfish among the holes and rocks. The water here is often cloudy, but we still managed to find a couple of the holes, hiding some big snappers and a giant stingray. Around some of the rocks we’d see grouper and nurse sharks. A barge wreck marked on the charts was surprisingly interesting and full of fish.

Clinging crab

My favorite part was playing with the dolphins! As we headed back to Miss Fe after a day of exploring the bay, we saw a small pod of dolphins surface, and we went after them in the dinghy, hoping to swim with them.  We pulled out in front of them, they darted straight for us, and Paul hopped into the water as fast as he could with his mask. He surfaced – “It’s too cloudy. I can’t see shit!” Back into the dinghy he leapt, and after the dolphins we chased. They were definitely in a playful mood, teasing us by alternating who was chasing whom, and sometimes riding our wake. I giggled hysterically while we and dolphins circled each other for several minutes, but they wouldn’t slow down let us join them for a swim!

This was just a little of Long Island’s magic.

Thompson Bay, Long Island
You think you’re far from home, but then the US Coast Guard flies over your boat
The road to Dean’s Blue Hole
Sunset at Thompson Bay, Long Island

Everything We Thought Sailing Would Be

When we first took off for the Abacos last season, we had some pretty idealized expectations about the color of water (blue), the number of anchorages teeming with friendly young people (many), the weather (warm and perfect), and how many fish we would catch (lots).

We were so positive, in fact, that we took off with hardly any chicken in the fridge, convinced we would be damn near pescatarians with all our inevitable fishing success. (Ok, so maybe this had more to do with the fact that we provisioned at Walmart at 10pm the night before we left the dock and they were out of chicken breasts…. but nevertheless, we were confident in our fishing skills.)

In many ways our expectations were met, but other things weren’t quite up to par – the grassy anchorages were tinted green, not every boat invited us over for a party (and they were always going the opposite way!), lots of storms rolled through week to week, and we were looking pretty sad on the fishing front.

We headed to the Bahamas this year with more realistic expectations. This time we were prepared for cooler temps and rainy days with a metal detector -a new land activity for restless Lindsey so Paul could watch movies on the boat. Yet again, we found ourselves caught by surprise.

It turns out the Exumas are what we were seeing in our sailing dreams! While we are still pretty convinced that the Abacos as a whole are our favorite, our time in the Exumas seemed to be embody what we thought sailing really would be.

I mean, just look at this place:

We had better luck meeting lots of people this year too. Part of this was from storing our boat at Indiantown: Lots of the people we met there were in the Bahamas, and we got to meet up with several them or at a minimum keep up with each others’ experiences through Facebook. In addition to this, it just seemed like there were more young cruisers this year. (FYI, “young” is anyone younger than typical retirement age, but “old” is a mindset and has nothing to do with physical age). We wondered if the Exuma island chain is a more popular destination, but our friends told us even they saw far fewer young people in the Exumas last year. Between YouTube-inspired sailors and those figuring out ways to work remotely (or retire early or temporarily), it appears our numbers are increasing.

I’m sure it helped that we were going the typical cruiser route at the typical cruiser time – lots of boats were heading south to make it to George Town on Great Exuma (the island where Fyre Festival was held, or not held!) in time for the Regatta. We repeatedly found the same anchorages as Holiday and their buddy boat Elixer, finally getting to spend some time with them in Georgetown. We met up with One-O-Six in Nassau, Black Point, Farmers and Georgetown – they are documenting their journey on a YouTube channel How Not To Sail a Boat.  Our friends on Mariposa left George Town just before we got there, but luckily we still crossed paths and shared an anchorage for a night. There were a lot of other boats we didn’t get to meet but chatted with on Instagram as they always seemed to be close by.

We also met a Wisconsin couple who had flown into the Bahamas for vacation. It was fun to bring them out to the boat for dinner on a windy day. They got the “real” experience of wearing foul weather gear and getting splashed in the dinghy!

The loneliness we sometimes felt last year definitely wasn’t there this year!

Cohort at Galliot Cay

And of course, the best part, we got to meet up with Cohort several times. We didn’t exactly “buddy boat” (you’ll never catch Paul doing something with a name like that), but we’d meet up for a few days here and there as we moved down the island chain. They showed us a shrimp-filled cave we had no clue existed; we had many sunset cocktails; we discovered fish are scared of laser pointers (don’t ask); we swam & hiked; we got our first lobsters!

Stefan teaching Lindsey to wake board

Conch – legal sized adult shells have a large flared lip

Speaking of fishing, we did better with that too. Although the Exumas don’t have the large barrier reefs like the Abacos, we had enough luck on the banks to have a few seafood feasts. Triggerfish, conch, lobster, squid – we had quite the variety!

Fish, crab, lobster – Miss Fe and Cohort clean up!!
Squid – our night fishing surprise! Super cool critters and a very sustainable fishery
Squid = calamari pasta

The weather was, for the most part, incredible. Unlike the Abacos’ weekly thunderstorms, we had  mostly blue skies, and when the wind did come in, no storms accompanied it. The sunset on Valentine’s Day was the most incredible we’d ever seen.

Valentine’s View from Ty’s Sunset Grill

We had nights of pure calm where we’d turn on the deck lights to illuminate the water and go night swimming in our very own “swimming pool.”

There was one night when the wind shifted to the north but the waves came from the west, which meant that our normally still-as-can-be boat rocked back and forth all night. We could have moved next to Little Farmers Cay for western protection, but we’re pretty stubborn at 10:00 pm… and midnight… and 2:00 am…. so we suffered through it, stuffing our separate berths with pillows to prevent our bodies from rolling. But that night was definitely the exception. I can tell you that the cloudy day metal detector never got used.

Farmers Cay Yacht Club
Exploring a wreck

We enjoyed many new experiences in this part of the island chain.

We met J.R. the woodcarver on Little Farmers Cay. I think you can tell from the pictures that I was pretty excited to find some art I really liked. He gave us a tour of his property,  its many edible plants and fruits, and his small carving shop. Has been a woodcarver for over 50 years and has traveled all over the world doing promotions for the Bahamas Ministry of Tourism. He uses no electric tools and said a carving like the one I bought takes him 3-4 hours.

We cruised by lots of celebrity-owned private islands. Musha and Rudder Cays are owned by David Copperfield. We swam to the sunken mermaid statue. I had lots of great photo ideas, but the current was ripping when we got there, so these are the best we got! Of note, my free diving has greatly improved. Last year I could barely get 5 feet under water, but I’m up to at least 15 now!

David Copperfield’s Musha Cay

This area seemed to have some of the clearest, bluest water in all of the Bahamas. As we took the dinghy from Rudder Cay to Darby Island, looking down upon the coral, stingrays, and grass was like looking through glass.

View of fish from above water

Our reason for going to Darby was to scope out its “Nazi” history – according to folklore, the island’s former owner was a Nazi sympathizer who signaled to U-boats and carved out places for them to hide. We had to go see this “U-boat trench.” This is also where we would have the most dangerous moment of our trip.

We had grand plans of a lovely sunset hike on the island, but we immediately noticed the horrendous and aggressive swarms of mosquitoes and no-see-ums when we tied our dinghy alongside the concrete dock. We dove into the water, but we knew this would be a quick swim since the bugs were following us, waiting to attack as soon as we surfaced!

Eagle ray in the U-boat trench

It was easy to see why it’s suspected that U-boats parked here. The dock has underwater stairs and this narrow waterway between two islands suddenly plunges very deep and does appear to be man-made.  A stingray was buried on the bottom and an eagle ray glided by us.

Paul swam to the other side of the trench and then headed back towards the dock. Just as he reached the dock, we heard a noise, but we couldn’t see where it was coming from. Suddenly, from around the corner, two large, speeding powerboats carrying the models and photographers from a photoshoot on Rudder Cay blasted by us. I shot my hand up to make sure they saw us, which they did, but they didn’t slow down. We prepared to swim over their huge wakes and watched our dinghy bash into shore. When looking at the map for this area, it looked very shallow beyond the trench, so I didn’t expect boat traffic.  If I had known, we would have left the dinghy in the channel to warn boats we were there. We were a little shaken up from the fact that 30 seconds earlier, Paul would have been swimming right in the path of these boats, so we hopped back into the dinghy and zoomed away from the swarms of bugs back to the safety of Miss Fe.

 

Lee Stocking was one of our favorite stops even though Paul, fisheries biologist at heart, found it sad to see the closed down buildings of what was one of the nicest marine research facilities he’d ever seen. The caretakers said we could roam around, and the place was beautiful. There is a hike across the old airstrip and along the edge of the cliff to the highest point in the Exumas. It felt great to really stretch our legs!

Walking the Lee Stocking airstrip

Paul mourning the loss of these aquaculture ponds

Nearby on Normans Pond Cay is a cave with an entrance that is like a deep blue swimming pool and Leaf Cay is home to many pink iguanas – I thought maybe the iguanas were a joke until I saw them!

Norman’s Pond cave entrance

We had our first experience with someone anchoring way too close to us, and it was in a spot where the uneven current ensured the boats would not swing in sync. When it was undeniable that our boats were drifting closer together, we asked them to move since they had arrived after us. First the guy denied that there was a problem, but then he agreed with me that the current was not moving our boats the same way – yet he promptly disappeared back inside his boat after acknowledging the problem! We decided to be “the bigger person” and moved a half mile away where we had 6 white sand beaches all to ourselves.

Real-life objects are closer than they appear
A cool rock near our solitary anchorage

We worked swimming into our daily routine. Last year there were a lot of no-rinse baths when the evenings got chilly, but this year, come 5:00 pm we’d dinghy over to a beach, soap up, wash our hair, swim and talk until our feet were prunes, and then head back to the boat for an on-deck solar shower fresh water rinse. Is it weird that this was one of our favorite things of boat life?

And of course, we saw lots of cool aquatic creatures:

Anybody know what this is?
First live king’s helmet conch we ever saw

Just look at those adorable eyes
Cool black and white fish
Octopus!!

Can you spot the skate (or ray of some sort) and sea cucumber?

All of this added up made me realize that the trip had really started to meet more of our original expectations. I’m not saying it was perfect. Cooking and cleaning in a small space takes way too much time. We spend too much time sitting with movies and shows on the computer. I shed like a dog washing my hair in salt water (though my hair became awesomely wavy and not frizzy). We can never agree on a consistent bedtime. Sometimes, I’d wish for a normal bed with a nightstand. Or a normal flushing toilet. (Check out our friends’ the Litzenbergers’ podcast on boredom on boats for a reality check.) But overall, the Exumas lived up to the “paradise” we thought they might be.

 

The Friendly Side of Nassau

So where did we leave off? Oh right. Here:

We continued to watch as the funnel cloud tried to stretch for the sea. After several minutes, it lost steam and disappeared into the clouds above.

“There’s another one to the left!” I pointed out to sea.

I kept my eyes on the second funnel until it too slowed down and broke up without ever reaching the water’s surface. As the dark clouds faded into the distance, I returned my somewhat seasick self to my berth.

When I came back up a couple hours later, the rooftops of Baha Mar (we at first thought it was Atlantis) were just coming into view. I noticed the swells were a bit bigger than earlier, and they seemed to be growing. The approach to Nassau is kind of interesting –  you’re in 1000 feet of water and a mile later, you’re in 30 feet, so the waves can stack up, particularly with a north wind like that day, and I read that the harbor entrance can be nasty in a strong northerly. We weren’t planning to enter the harbor, but we were headed behind Salt Cay, which meant turning east and taking the waves broadside. As the swells were starting to reach 6 feet, we really didn’t want to take them on the beam and cause the boat to rock wildly. As we approached our turning point, Paul noticed waves breaking in the distance, which set off alarm bells in his head. I verified on the charts that the waves were breaking over rocks (in other words,  not on their own and not in a place we would be sailing through), but the cockpit was nonetheless thick with intense concentration. Dave and I watched silently as Paul steered through the waves. They rolled in about every 8-10 seconds, giving him time to make some progress east in between them, before turning south momentarily to take the waves on the stern. We zigzagged to calmer waters behind Salt Cay before anyone spoke.

Waves crashing over Salt Cay

“Good job,” Dave said.

“Well, that was mildly terrifying,” said Paul, turning to me. “Some day it’s gonna be your turn to steer through this shit!”

Atlantis sunset

Our anchorage that night turned out to be quite rolly, so everyone was tired and cranky the next morning, but it was time to make some decisions. We knew that two fronts carrying 30-40 knot winds were forecast for the next week, so we would likely be sitting in one place for a while. Our options were to head to the Exumas so that Paul’s parents could see their beauty (with the risk of getting stuck somewhere expensive or not interesting enough to keep us entertained for a full week) or to stay in Nassau which we knew could keep us entertained (with the risk of being irritated by “the big city”). Nassau won the vote, so we looked for a spot to enjoy one more night at anchor before heading to a marina.

We headed to Rose Island, knowing nothing about it. It’s barely noted on our charts, so we were surprised to see a restaurant there. Though the restaurant was only open for a private tour boat, we discovered a pretty awesome artificial reef in front of it. I was excited to finally get to show both Dave and Naomi some clear water snorkeling with a big variety of coral and fish! I was surrounded by a school of ballyhoo and Paul persuaded a large green sea turtle to come say hello to the rest of us! Luckily we finished up just as the tour boats started to arrive. Off to Nassau we went!

Rose Island and Sandy Toes Restaurant
Rose Island artificial reef – So many fishies!
Green sea turtle and remoras

You may have heard that the US issued another “warning” about Nassau due to issues with pickpocketing, theft, etc. However, don’t let that deter you! Sure, you need to be cautious in any city, but once you get 100 yards away from the cruise ships, you’ll start to find the same friendliness and helpfulness that you would find on any of the smaller Bahamian Islands. We ended up spending 11 days in Nassau!

One of our favorite experiences was the public bus. At $1.25 per person, it was a lot cheaper than the $35 taxi and a lot cooler than walking in the sun. You never knew what you were going to get – with the sometimes wild driving and blasting music, Naomi described it as “like riding Magic Mountain!” — she loved it!

I’m not sure what it is (though I suspect Dave’s mustache), but it always seems like more people talk to us when Paul’s parents are around. One guy started to give us a “tour” of the neighborhoods the bus passed through, and when he got off the bus before us, he yelled, “Driver, give them the full tour!” and the driver did indeed happily continue the tour, showing us 300-year-old cotton trees, old parliament houses, and various schools. On another ride, we chatted with guys selling fruit out of a bucket, and I ended up trying some jujube fruits. They didn’t recognize “Tennessee,” but when we said “Nashville” they started strumming their air guitars.

Overly excited about jujubes

Whenever a bus pulls up, some passenger will usually yell out the window to find out where you are going and confirm the correct bus. As people board, they say, “Good afternoon” before taking a seat. If the bus is crowded, the aisles have fold down seats, so no space is wasted, and it’s amusing when someone in the back reaches their stop, so everyone in the aisle seats has to stand up, fold their seats, step off the bus, and rearrange to let that person out. Sometimes you lack sufficient head room or foot space. Sometimes the person in the seat next to you might be mixing himself a cocktail. If there is traffic at a corner, cutting through parking lots to avoid the intersection is totally acceptable and running red lights is not uncommon. The bus is not for the faint of heart!

When we did take a taxi, the experience was good as well . Our first driver told us we had to eat crab’n’rice (though we still haven’t found anyone selling it) and that she prays for all the visitors to have a great experience in Nassau. Another guy who worked for the water taxi gave us a ride in his car so we didn’t have to wait in the rain. Our last taxi driver mostly said “okay” in response to everything, except to deliver a couple of zingers to Dave. After a few drinks, he had the guts to tell her how he really felt about one of the Bahamas famous drinks, Sky Juice (gin, coconut water, coconut rum, condensed milk, or something similar).

“I don’t like Sky Juice,” he admitted.

“Oh, so you LOVE Sky Juice!” she retorted.

Dave scoping out the lobster selection at Lukka Kairi

We explored a lot in the downtown Nassau area. When it comes to eating out, “Island Time” is alive and well! You never know how long it might take, but we enjoyed the variety that Nassau offer – including East Villa Chinese, which actually has exceptional service, really good food, and sometimes a piano man.

Bahamas National Art Gallery

We checked out the National Art Gallery, which had a pretty cheap entrance fee, some cool exhibits, and a beautiful building.

The great deck at the Bahamas National Art Gallery

Next was Waitling’s Distillery – amusing free tour, OK rum, really tasty pina
coladas and daquaris. For lunch we hit up Fish Fry, a famous area of restaurants serving Bahamian food.

Waitlings Distillery Nassau

 

Government House in downtown Nassau

 

We enjoyed Ardastra Gardens and Zoo – the “marching” flamingo show is kind of a joke, but the flamingos wandering freely around the zoo was totally cool!

Flamingo crossing!
Naomi, the lorikeet whisperer
Lots of birds and small animals at the zoo, but still entertaining
Flamingos are native to the Bahamas – they live on the island of Great Inagua

We checked out the Atlantis shops and casino. It was neat to see and Dave and Naomi both got lucky in just 10 minutes of slots!

Waiting out the rain at Atlantis

We drank decent beer at Pirate Republic Brewery. I believe this is the only craft beer in the Bahamas.

We watched the Patriots earn their way to the Super Bowl in an Irish Bar that was full of New Englanders (Dave and Naomi included), which made it a lot of fun – and even Paul enjoyed the football game, something he does once only every year or two!

Shenanigans Irish Bar in Nassau

We watched the lunar eclipse – or I did, most of it, before I got sleepy like everyone else.

We explored the beautiful Graycliff Hotel.

 

 

Graycliff Hotel Pool – beautiful, but where are the guests?!

We tried to explore the Cable Beach area, but we discovered it’s pretty lame since the resorts block the beach view, and even though all beaches are legally “public” below the high water mark, this doesn’t stop Sandals from asking you to leave when you are trying to walk along the water. We did enjoy the fresh fruit daiquiris at the Daiquiri Shack, as well as Sabarro pizza (don’t judge – it brought back very fond childhood mall food court memories for both Paul and me). We explored the Baha Mar resort, which seemed pretty nice, and it seemed the casino luck (or lack thereof) was still with us from Atlantis.

Enjoying the beach, moments before Sandals kicked us out
Baha Mar casino
Oooooh dancing fountains

We stayed at the Nassau Harbour Club marina. Though it was the cheapest we found in the city, it was still the most expensive marina we’ve ever been in. Since water, electric, and laundry all cost extra, the internet barely worked, and the pool and bathrooms were usually dirty, not to mention out of toilet paper, I’m not really sure what we were paying for – other than, of course, convenience to land and protection  from the wind (and peace of mind). And for that, it was worth it but barely. Up your game Nassau Harbour Club or cut your prices by about 75%. Our handheld knot meter didn’t measure more than 20, but it sure felt like it was blowing harder, and when the winds came from the east, it smacked waves onto the boat at weird angles, tugging on our dock lines and making weird noises. With reports from the Exumas of boats experiencing 35 knots, we were glad we stayed to enjoy Nassau for Dave and Naomi’s final few days.

We were wrapping up breakfast when Paul’s phone rang with the news that Dave and Naomi’s flight was leaving an hour early, so their departure was pretty rushed. Four people on a little boat for 2.5 weeks and we all survived! Amazingly, I don’t think we ever had a moment where the boat felt too crowded. (Thanks for being great guests!)  The day wasn’t even over before we had made plans for our next guest to arrive!

Naomi was sad to leave all her pirate friends!

 

We had cleaning and shopping to do – Nassau had the last full size supermarket we would see until… well, probably until we return to Nassau in a few months!

We did however decide to escape the boat for a day. We used Paul’s hotel points from work to book a night at the Hilton British Colonial Hotel. His status level got us into the executive lounge for free tea, snacks, and happy hour. After drinks, we were hungry and headed to Imperial Diner for take-out. Paul ordered the fritter dog – essentially a corn dog but instead of corn batter it uses conch fritter batter – and he declared it a “national treasure.” I ordered the whole fried snapper and declared it was “amazing.” Our dinner was the two of us sitting in our hotel room repeatedly exclaiming “This is so good!!” and taking pictures of our food. Rediculous.

Hilton happy hour
Fritter dog from Imperial Diner
I’m telling you: looks questionable, tastes amazing

The next day was Paul taking advantage of the king size bed and TV while I took advantage of the clean swimming pool and hammocks. Then it was back to boat life and preparing to depart the marina!

What people think Nassau is like!

Lazy Days on Lonely Islands

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
Dave experiencing true relaxation!

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.

Beach on White Cay

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
Naomi snorkeling
Anemone

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.

Huge stand of acropora (elkhorn) coral

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.

Dryin’ off
Hermit crabs everywhere!

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…

Funnel cloud dead ahead!

 

You Can Pick the Time or the Place – but Not Both

Miss Fe – weighing anchor! Photo courtesy of S/V Cohort

After our late spring return to the USA, we were very fortunate to have many things fall right into place. Paul’s company hired him back for seasonal work in Miami. My job also was able to take me back for 50% remote work, though a communication mishap meant I accidentally got to have the summer off, and I didn’t return to work until October. With Paul’s 10-days-on-4-days-off schedule, we had an epic summer and fall which included:

-trips “home” to both PA and TN
-a cruise ship to Cuba (it’s amazing, you should go)

Across from Havana
Cuban Cigars in Cuba
Fusterlandia in Havana

-my 10-year college reunion
-scuba diving wrecks in the Florida Keys

Barracuda on the Spiegel

Invasive Lionfish speared for dinner
Looe Key

-diving with sharks and 300-lbs goliath groupers in West Palm Beach
-spotting way too many gators and crocodiles in the Everglades
-hiking and hot springs with friends in Utah

Arches National Park

-trying lots of new Cuban and Peruvian food
-bicycling from Florida’s East Coast to West Coast
-and exploring Miami with Paul’s awesome coworkers.

Jonas and the possum
Wolf licking Lindsey’s deoderant
Paul not loving the snake

We are not taking our good fortune for granted!

Paul’s job ended two weeks earlier than expected, and by early November, we found ourselves in  Indiantown Marina with the boat in the work yard. Our goal was to depart for the Bahamas around the 1st week of December.

Major projects on the table included bottom paint, fridge expansion, and repairing damaged topside paint under our rub rail. It only took a day or two to start to overwhelm Paul with boat projects – especially with me still working a job. But I pointed out to him how this was so different from our days in Maryland, where we would watch the powerboaters go out to play while we slaved away with paint brushes. Here in Indiantown, there were over 50 other boats in the work yard, full of people just like us to banter with about problems and ideas! At last, acres of people willing to subject themselves to physical, mental and chemical abuse. Kindred spirits!

We were lucky to meet a lot of awesome people in the boat yard – mostly Canadians, as they seem to be 75% of the marina’s population. Apparently they don’t do well with cold either! After listening to so many other people’s stories of traveling the world by boat, motorcycle, train, or with kids in tow, we started to feel like we’ve done zilch in comparison! (Paul says this is a great feeling because we didn’t come this far to come this far: We came to go a whole lot further.)

Other than the mosquitoes and no-see-ums, Indiantown is not so bad. Though the food choices are limited (3 taco trucks, a BBQ joint, and a few others of similar varieties), it’s really pretty good and pretty cheap. The marina staff are all super nice and two of the guys even live on site and are always up for drinks in the evening. During the week of Thanksgiving, the marina hosted 4 nights of parties with free food and drink!

As our boat work progressed, we realized we weren’t going to be in the water “on time” and pushed our launch back a week. By the time we had launched we had:

-painted the bottom and put on new zincs
-removed the rub rail, repaired the paint under it, and reattached it (with the help of friends)
-turned our fridge into a freezer/fridge spillover, nearly doubling the storage size
-replaced an aluminum plate on the windlass
-painted/ziptied length indicators on the anchor chain
-installed the brand new Mantus anchor
-applied Cetol to most of the teak
-repainted the bowsprit and hatches
-installed a second bilge pump, which allows us to actually use the sink in the head

That list doesn’t seem big enough for 5 weeks of working every day! But believe me each of those projects involved ridiculous amounts of tedious sanding, drilling, cutting, painting, fiberglassing, or wiring that would drive anyone mad.

It was around this time that we began to realize our friends who might cross the Gulf Stream with us were not available, and we began to discuss the possibility of Paul’s parents Dave and Naomi tagging along – his parents were thrilled that, in theory, this would mean spending Christmas in the Bahamas with us. But they weren’t aware of the #1 rule of visiting someone’s boat – “You can pick the time or the place, but not both!”

Once we launched, the stress of trying to make a pre-Christmas crossing happen set in. When we tested the engine, Paul easily fixed the seized starter – but then just as easily broke a hose barb on the engine’s cooling system. Removing the broken hose barb led to the discovery of some near-tragic carbon build-up, which turned out to have an easy fix discovered only after a solid half hour of intense cursing. After paying a lot of money for overnight-Saturday-delivery for the replacement part, the wrong part arrived, causing a 4-day delay. After tripling our previous record for money spent on groceries in a single day, the larger fridge seemed to be struggling to cool, and Paul was so worried sick about it that we had several 2 a.m. fridge temperature-taking parties. Well, he did at least I mostly tried to sleep through it. One day, when we were still on the brink of possibly leaving by Christmas if the weather cooperated and we didn’t break anything else, I asked Paul how he had been feeling that day.

“Pretty terrible,” he said.

“Me too. I’ve had a constant, overwhelming feeling of dread,” I replied. I’ve felt nervous many times in my life but never had I felt this type of stomach-twisting, heavy-chested anxiety caused by the dread of potentially being at fault for cancelling Christmas on parents.

Another relevant sailing saying is “The most dangerous thing on a boat is a schedule” – though I think this is supposed to refer to dangerous weather, not dangerous levels of stress!

We had been watching a potential weather window the Sunday before Christmas, but when the forecast showed that opportunity would no longer come to fruition, a wave of relief washed over. Sure, it sucked that we wouldn’t be spending Christmas in the Bahamas or with our parents, but this also meant we didn’t have to rush to Miami in high winds to attempt staging for that Sunday.

Departing Indiantown on a good weather day!

We sat out several days of bad weather in Indiantown Marina, before departing on a nice and sunny December 22. The next week ended up being amazing! We anchored across from Stuart where our friends from Indiantown Catherine and Stefan were hanging out. We explored the market, boardwalk and downtown section of Stuart – this was a fun change of pace since we tend to get off the boat for exploration very infrequently when in the US.

Stuart Boardwalk – thanks Catherine for the photo!
Stuart Boardwalk

A few days later we anchored in West Palm Beach, where friends we’d made in the Bahamas, Susan and Jeremie, were hanging out. It was wonderful to be reunited with them! We had Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas Day drinks with them. Paul’s local extended family picked us up for the family Christmas dinner and gift exchange, which was delicious and fun.

Christmas tree in a house…
…. vs Christmas tree  on a boat

Catherine and Stefan anchored next to us a few days later.  Paul’s coworker Richie and his wife were vacationing nearby and stopped by to see the boat and have lunch. WPB is street after street of cool shops and restaurants, plus has a free dock and free trolley. It was an awesome place to explore with friends. Shout out to WPB for being our favorite spot to be stuck in Florida!

West Palm Beach Magical Sand Sculpture that is not destroyed by rain
Reunited and it feels so good!
WPB Mural

After we left WPB, we headed to Lauderdale and then on to Miami. You never really know what you are going to encounter on the ICW. We saw many manatees, mansions decorated for Christmas, jumping eagle rays, a jumping shark, and even a captain wearing a t-shirt but no pants and no underwear! Miami was pure insanity as it took our comparatively slow sailboat hours to get passed the area where literally thousands of powerboats party on the weekend.

Busy day near Port Everglades
Miami power boat party

The channel was very narrow in several areas with shallow spots, just outside the channel. We ran aground once and heard the crunch of scraping bottom against gravel, but a water taxi wake gave us enough water to power off the shallow spot immediately. We got held up at the last bridge and ended up traversing downtown Miami at night – this was fairly terrifying as there is a ton of boat traffic, confusing parts of the charts, and many shallow spots. The auto routing feature on the Navionics app was a lifesaver as far as helping us quickly find a viable route.

New Years Eve was spent at a fuel dock somewhere in Biscayne Bay – we had called twice before showing up but they didn’t mention they were closing early, so we spent the night there after checking in with the police officer and security guard. We celebrated the New Year by taking outdoor showers at the adjacent county park and cooking up steaks. We also managed to get an oil change in. Luckily we could see the 10pm fireworks perfectly from our boat because Paul was on antibiotics and didn’t feel like getting up for the midnight show.

Our final few days in Miami were spent at Dinner Key Marina in Coconut Grove. We picked up a mooring ball – for the first time, on the first try, with no yelling! (Side note: we’ve decided there is no yelling on our boat… just speaking loudly with love!) Over 4 days, we ran errands, had dinner with my summer sailing buddy, bought packing peanuts to reduce the size of our functional but power-hungry fridge, ate a lot of Sushi Maki and carefully watched the weather. In a consultation with forecaster Chris Parker, he said he had enough confidence in the weather that we could give Paul’s parents the go-ahead to start their 2-day journey from Knoxville to Miami. “It’s time!” we excitedly told them as we knew these couple weeks of waiting felt twice as long.

Paul’s parents arrived the afternoon of the 4th. They stayed in a hotel and caught the 8am marina shuttle to our boat the next morning. Unlike the nights prior to our previous crossings, I slept through the night and woke up feeling fresh! The forecasted storms had already passed, so we untied the lines and were motoring across Biscayne Bay by 8:40.

When we hit the Atlantic late morning, the West wind was in full force and we raised the sails. When the Gulf Stream current started pushing us, the boat was making 7-9 knots! The wind clocked north – you may hear advice to “never” cross the Gulf Stream with a north wind, but in reality this depends on the strength of the wind. The forecast said the wind would back up to West, but this never happened. After 4-5 hours of sailing, the wind died out and the seas had reached 5+ feet – the boom clanged while I tried to find an angle that would work, and a few of the slides on the mainsail broke. We decided keeping sails up was pointless, and we started motoring more directly East to Moselle bank. Between the current and dodging a cargo ship, we were already a bit north of our waypoint and would have to make up the ground when we were closer to the Bahamas.

We motored through the night, switching off in 4-6 hours shifts, Paul with Naomi and me with Dave.  Between experience, scopolamine, and getting a good night’s rest, this was the most comfortable stream crossing yet for me, even with not quite reaching the “flow” of steering in the waves that I had mastered the last time. The lights of Bimini were in sight before 9 PM, and we soon crossed onto the banks where it’s only 10-60 feet deep. We saw a lot of cargo ships through the night, ensuring we were staying awake. Shortly before sunrise, Paul woke me to raise the sails as we were making only 2 knots under motor. I raised the main.

“Weird, that didn’t help at all!” Paul said. “Where are we, the Bermuda triangle?!” (Actually, yes….). I raised both foresails and we sped up to 4 knots. The wind helped us almost the rest of way until the final couple hours when it shifted completely East and we couldn’t sail directly into it.

Naomi, Dave and Paul happy to be in the Berry Islands!

Thirty-four hours and 131 miles after we left the marina, we were setting our anchor next to Great Harbour Cay, Berry Islands, Bahamas! Free again at last…

Sailing Home!

May 21, 2018

3:30 am: Alarm goes off. Decide to sleep for another half hour.

4:00 am: Alarm goes off: Get up. Check weather. Currently blowing up to 20 knots. The original plan was to start with a double reefed main (prepped last night) and staysail, but with this much wind, we decided to wait for daylight.

5:30 am: Alarm goes off. Still looks dark outside. Try to sleep.

6:00 am: Alarm goes off. It’s light out. Let’s roll.

6:30 am: Anchor is up and motor is on.

We decided to immediately raise sail for stability. The wind was only about 10-12 knots, but we left in the reefs, raised the jib, and kept the motor running. In case of increasing wind, we didn’t want to be going forward to the bow in large waves and getting seasick while trying to adjust the sails.

As we pulled out of West End, Paul watched a huge tuna leap out of the water. Goodbye, Bahamas!

We headed southwest for 8 nautical miles – though in hindsight we should have gone at least 10 so we wouldn’t have to fight the Gulf Stream current so much as we approached Florida. The winds out of the southeast continued to be around 10 knots, possibly less, but the waves weren’t joking around, averaging 6 feet.

Gulf Stream Crossing Bahamas to Florida
Waves never look big in photos!

With the waves this big, steering took a lot of concentration, so we traded who was at the helm every hour. We both stayed in the cockpit for the whole trip, going below only to use the head (restroom). This was the first time I’d ever used a scopolamine patch for seasickness, and boy was I glad to have it!

We continued to see large waves even as the wind dwindled. And I started to think this was fun! A wave on the stern would occasionally get us wet and I’d laugh. I loved that in Gulf Stream the deep water looks royal purple, but when the top of a wave would start to foam, it would appear a bright, vibrant blue. I steered towards animal shapes in the clouds, and I couldn’t believe it when Paul proudly told me that I was doing a better job of steering than him.

Please note my expression…
… versus Paul’s expression

We saw 1 cargo ship and 1 cruise ship, and both passed several miles in front of us. A powerboat sped by us, and a sailboat was headed in another direction. At one point, I questioned if I saw a whale’s tail, but most likely it was a wave and my imagination. We watched some rain clouds in the distance, but luckily we didn’t get more than a little sprinkle.

Cruise ship ahead!

We did turn the motor off for an hour to slow us down, since the wind had picked up and the boat was speeding down the waves at over 8 knots. We probably should have considered putting up more sail when the wind dropped again, but things were going so smoothly motor sailing that we really didn’t want to disrupt our flow (or risk dropping below 5 knots, which we needed to average to be sure we’d reach Florida well before sunset). We waited until the last hour of the trip to take the reefs out of the main.

We were shocked how near to shore the Stream’s current was that day. We fought it almost all the way to the inlet. As we approached Lake Worth, our course over ground was West, but our actual compass heading was nearly South! It’s hard to explain how that messes with your head when you’re trying to compare where you are on the GPS to what you see in front of you.

Paul got quiet as we approached the inlet. He had prior experience with the inlets of Northern California and knew better than I that this could get ugly. And it was ugly – not just because of the water suddenly turning chocolate-milk-brown, but because the consistent 6-foot waves stacked up tighter and tighter at the entrance. I held my breath, praying the waves wouldn’t break over our boat, while Paul nervously but expertly steered down the middle of the rock jetties, as commercial ships chugged by and beachgoers naively observed.

In a just a few minutes, the waters calmed and we were welcomed back in the IntraCoastal Waterway. We lowered the sails and headed for the anchorage at the north end of Lake Worth.

“How big do you think some of those waves were?” I asked Paul. My thought was 8 feet.

“I bet some of those were 10,” he said.

“Really?” I was about to say that I had thought they were only 8 but I bet we could handle 10, when Paul cut me off.

“I wouldn’t want to do it again in more than 4 foot waves!” he exclaimed.

I countered, “Oh come on, that was fun though, wasn’t it?” He gave me a blank look. I prodded, “You have to admit that was fun!” He wouldn’t agree and he now thinks I’m crazy.

At the anchorage, we checked in to the US using the “ROAM” app, which was super easy and didn’t require us to leave the boat.

A 13 hour journey and we were home sweet home.

Pelicans welcoming us back to the US

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took us two days to get to Indiantown due to the St. Lucie Lock schedule. Once at Indiantown, we prepped the boat to get hauled and moved as much of its contents into storage as we could. We also took note of how many alligators hang out in this marina and of how cheap the BBQ in town is.

Entering the St Lucie Lock
Each boat’s lines are run around a cleat at the top of the lock – then you hold on tight as the waters rush in!

In just two more days, we said see-ya-later to Miss Fe and headed back into a life on land… but only for a few months, till the sea calls us again.

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!

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

The Shark Before the Storm

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.