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

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…

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.

 

Wandering: Great Guana to Man O War

After dropping Dave off at the Treasure Cay airport we were a bit bummed out as is always the case when a crew member has to leave. We don’t believe in goodbyes though; it’s always “See you later!” We took our time prepping the boat and pulling out of the biggest slip I think we have ever had. As we exited the marina into the  baby blue waters of the Sea of Abaco we were quickly confronted by a disappointing reality. Fairly strong winds with 3-4′ of chop had us pinned into the the Treasure Cay Marina. We were only trying to go a few miles to Great Guana Cay but it was a long, wet slog dead to wind.

Nippers Beach Bar
Beach at Nippers on Great Guana Cay

Our goal for the rest of our trip was to be in the water as much as possible, either snorkeling or diving (but we were about to discover that the East winds make this not as easy as we would hope). Based on the guides and maps, we thought there might be something to see near a cut at the southern end of the island, but when we tried to anchor there, we could not get the anchor to dig in after about 4 tries. So much for our quiet, secluded anchorage – we moved north to the crowded anchorage near Grabbers bar. The holding was fine but between the wind moving west and the constant ferry and rental boat traffic, this was the least comfortable anchorage we stayed in.

To prep for scuba diving, we decided to dive in the 10 feet under our boat to test our gear and brandy new scuba compressor. I got to see my first green mantis shrimp, which made the dive totally worth it but otherwise there wasn’t much else to see. If you don’t know what a mantis shrimp is, check out this video.  They are pretty much the most badass creature in the ocean.

The next day it was too windy to head out to the reef, so we took the dinghy ashore to explore. While getting ready to head out, we had a little reef shark swimming around the boat – our first shark sighting!

We had heard a lot of people talk about the Nippers Bar.  Nippers advertises a Sunday “pig roast,” which we were really excited about until we heard there is no roasting pig – just a buffet that includes pork and a lot of drunk partiers. We heard it can still be a cool, more peaceful place on other days of the week so we went to check it out.

Nippers Bar Great Guana
Nippers!

On our way to Nippers we noticed a sign on a tree saying “Poisonwood – No Touch”! WTF is that, we thought as we quickly googled it. Turns out the Bahamas have two rather nasty poisonous trees the aptly named Poisonwood and the Manchineel.  Poisonwood is similiar to poison ivy or posion oak while Manchineel is more toxic but also less common. Suddenly the rash Dave had on his leg made sense, he must have brushed up against poisonwood on one of our hikes. “So much for the forests being tame here,” we thought.

A short walk later we had made it over to the Atlantic side where we easily found Nippers. Nestled on bluff overlooking the ocean and a nice white sand beach, Nippers has plenty of loud music, seating and a pool. The drinks and food are on the expensive side. We hung out for a couple hours but weren’t really feeling the vibe and left for a walk around town in the early afternoon.

Nippers Beach Bar
View From Nippers

We wandered about for a bit before looking for a place to get some food. Naturally we picked a place as far away as possible, Mermaids, and went off hiking figuring we would see more of the island on the way. We hiked for a pretty long time through rolling hills dappled with vacation houses. Everything on Great Guana was pretty upscale (but not without herds of cats and roosters hanging out in some yards). Finally a nice lady in a golf cart stopped and offered us a ride which Lindsey promptly shot down.

“Gee babe, whats your problem with a free ride?” I asked as the golf cart sped away.

“We are here to hike!” she winked.

“True but there’s no shame in taking a free ride and we’ve been going for a while now” I quipped.

“OK, next one.” she said. The next golf cart to offer a ride had two very nice and maybe tipsy guys in the front. We jumped on thinking this was gonna be fun, but we rounded a single corner to find we were at Mermaids after about a 15 second ride. We all had a good laugh at what had to be the record for the shortest hitchhike ever.

Great Guana
Mermaids On the Rocks

Mermaids was really beautiful. They had a gorgeous pool on a rocky cliff overlooking the sea and a beautiful outdoor dining area. They also had a dress code with prices to match. Surveying the scene we quickly decided we weren’t really going to be welcome in our salty, worn, paint-splattered clothes.  We prefer the locals hangouts anyways. So we started our hike back across the island. About 10 minutes in a local stopped and offered a ride. “Yes, please!” I said before Lindsey could think twice. Turns out our driver was turned away at Mermaids for failure to wear shoes. We zipped back to Grabbers bar where our dinghy was beached. We looked around Grabbers but decided dinner on the boat was best.

Great Guana just didn’t have a vibe we were into. Turns out the island is overshadowed by Bakers Bay resort. From what we researched and heard through the grapevine, Bakers Bay is the most upscale resort in the Abacos where all the famous people hang out. They even have a marina which was made private a few years ago to keep riff raff like us out – or as we prefer to think of it, keep riff raff like them in. Still though, the resort provides around 1000 much needed jobs to the locals so I guess its not all bad. We would have left after just one day but were heard there were some dive sites at the north end of island.

We were ready for diving the next day and the wind had seemingly calmed down. We loaded the dinghy up and began the slow trek up past Bakers Bay to the dive site. Unfortunately when we got there the waves were breaking over the reef and after several attempts to find a good spot, we aborted and went snorkeling at the rocks off of Bakers Bay beach. The snorkeling was ok – we were excited to finally see some coral, healthy coral too! – but the tidal current prevented us from getting to the really good parts. We did see a stingray without a stinger and a nurse shark, relaxing on the bottom under a ledge – but typical Lindsey… even though I kept pointing to the shark just a few feet away from me, she never figured out what I was trying to point to and didn’t even see it. On the ride back, we decided to try another spot.

We motored down to the anchorage at Fowl Cay Marine Reserve but alas it was going to be too rolly for an overnight spot, even by our lax standards, so we continued to the north side of Man O War Cay.  The next day, we assessed our sunburns and decided wearing our heavy scuba gear might not be the best plan. We grabbed our snorkel gear and took the dinghy up to Fowl  and Hawksbill Cays.

Foul Cay Marine Reserve
Paul at Fowl Cay

The ocean was still very choppy and the current was very strong but we came up with an ingenious plan to see the reef. We parked the dinghy in the lee of a small cay and swam hard across the cut to the next small cay. We then hiked over the rocks to the the ocean side and swam out to the nearby reef thereby using the cay to defeat the current. This allowed us to have a great snorkel in less than ideal conditions. When we were done all we had to do was swim over to the cut and drift back to our dinghy. Fowl Cay turned out to be a great stop, even with the weather preventing us from seeing the reef farther out. We still got to see plenty of snapper, a sea turtle, a grouper, lots of small fish, and great coral – purple sea fans, brain and horn corals.

Man O War Cay Sign

That evening and the following day we went to explore Man O War Cay. Our boat being parked on the extreme north end of the island meant that we would be able to stretch our legs before getting to town. Man O War turned out to be a beautiful very laid back island. It has deep religious roots so alcohol has only recently become available at one restaurant. The “roads” are narrow and sandy, and lined with vegetation. The town is small with several shops selling local goods like hand carved boat models and locally made canvas bags. There is a long tradition of boat building on the island and we saw that they are still making fiberglass boats to this day. If your looking for a really quiet island to get away from it all this is the place. If you want to have some drinks with rowdy sailors or 5 star accommodations, this is not the place.

Man O War Cay
“The Queen’s Highway” leading to town on Man-o-War Cay
Man o war cay
Fiberglass boat molds.
Man-o-Way cay church
Church on Man-o-War Cay

We made friends with random cats and dogs that walked with us  through town, checked out the fish hiding under the docks, and had a delicious conch burger and ice cream at Hibiscus Cafe. We laughed that almost everyone here has the same last name – Albury. We chatted for a while with a homeowner, an American who spends a few weeks here each year.

Lindsey enjoying somebody’s front yard
Man O War Cay
Old Boat Built on Man O War
Marina at Man O War Cay

We snorkeled around the rocks at the anchorage, spotting some large french angelfish, barracudas, and a moray eel. It seemed like we were the only boat staying here for more than one day, so we decided to head to Hopetown next and see what all the fuss was about.

This photo is taken by AllWinner's v3-sdv
Discarded conch shells at Man-O-War Cay