All Hands On Deck   Adventures on land and at sea

It’s been a while since I uploaded these pictures so I’m a little behind. Still, I wanted to share this album with everyone because the Bahamas are beautiful!

The Bahamas

        Sunset at Port Nelson, Rum Cay.

        I think I’m done trying to do yoga on the beach in the Bahamas. The no-see-ums were there, even if I didn’t see them at first. I left the beach in Calabash Bay with a new batch of itchy bites and a renewed fear of tiny bugs.
        Lee and I had a nice stay at our Long Island anchorage despite some adverse conditions. On our first day, Lee brought the bikes ashore and we rattled our way down Galliot Cay’s dirt road to the main, paved road that runs Long Island’s length. We rode a little ways down that road in each direction, stopping at Pratt’s Convenience store for a cold drink and taking in the rural Bahamian landscape. The sparse settlements were made up of weathered concrete houses with various boats, animals, and sea debris in their yards.
        Our friends were circumnavigating Galliot Cay in their sailing dinghy while Lee and I biked. On our way back, we met them at the Cape Santa Maria Resort (the cape was named after Columbus’ boat, which supposedly sank there). After some lounging in the shade and lunch for our friends, Lee and I headed back to our boat with our new machete, “The Ork Slayer” (a wedding gift). Lee went to work on his coconut stash on the beach and I watched our friends slowly make their way down the bay in their sailing dinghy.
        It was past sunset by the time they got to Pirat so we towed them around the corner to their boat with the dinghy. We joined them for tea and a tour their awesome little boat and then drove back to our own for a late dinner. Driving back in the dinghy, I could see the bottom in detail below us – an even weirder sight at night than in the daytime.

        The next morning’s weather forecast brought news of a front moving in that evening. Lee and I spent most of the morning trying to decide what to do. Should we stay where we were? Should we try to get into Joe’s sound where our friend’s were anchored? Should we move somewhere down Long Island? Should we try to sail to Rum Cay? We gradually eliminated all the options except staying put. Everyplace else we could get in to anchor would not be any more sheltered than our current spot and might have worse depth. The cut to get into Joe’s Sound was too shallow and we were worried about getting stuck when the swell came up and made the entrance even more perilous.
        With the front moving closer, we spent most of the day close to the boat. We went for a pretty strenuous run in the morning. Lee brought the bikes back onboard. I baked bread, which is an all-day process when I forget to start it the night before. We planned to leave for Rum Cay the next day but were torn by the prospect of staying to spend one last day with our friends. It was a long, rough night as the front passed and brought wind and swells into our anchorage.
        The next morning was just as rough but we decided to stay. Lee and I walked to the tip of Galliot Cay, where the sailing dinghy ferried everyone to a protected beach on Hog Cay. We all spent the day on the beach – playing cribbage, picnicking, swimming, and chatting, The two guys went on a quest for lobster but returned empty handed. I had a great time just hanging out on the beach with the girls. These particular boat friends lead fascinating lives and are quite inspiring.
        The crews parted ways late that afternoon, as Lee and I needed to check on our boat and the conditions would make it tricky to gather for dinner. Hopefully we will see our friends again when we come back to Goerge town after the wedding. If not, there will be plenty of opportunities to visit in other places.

        Yesterday morning Lee and I packed up and sailing out of our anchorage (fun!), bound for Run Cay. Sailing off the anchor isn’t as hard as it sounds most of the time and we want to start doing it more. It was an upwind sail to Rum Cay (or course) and we were out in the unprotected waters where ocean swells roll through the islands. With the solent a a reefed main we were occasionally under-powered but made it to Port Nelson, the anchorage at Rum Cay, with time for a quick run before dinner. It’s become kind of a joke that we only sail places when the passage will be upwind. We don’t do it that way on purpose. We just don’t wait around for downwind conditions.

Port Nelson

        Port Nelson is a large, open bay with a reef along one side. The town has a few restaurants and stores as well as picturesque little houses overlooking the beach. I managed to do yoga on deck this morning and it felt wonderful. Now I’m ready for a day of bread baking, exploring ashore, and hopefully some shopping at the Last Chance grocery store. My supply of absolutely heavenly papayas from George Town is almost exhausted, as are the fresh vegetables.

Elizabeth Harbor had its beautiful moments. You can barely see how the bottoms of the clouds reflects the turquoise water on the banks.

        George Town was madness. In fact, I’m sure the madness continues as I write this, I’m just not around to witness it. As I’m sure I said before, I’ve never seen so many boats in my life. What’s amazing about it, though, isn’t the number of boats but the fact that they all have people on them and almost all of them sailed to George Town from some somewhere far away. The networks of cruising friends are impressive and the range of boats amusing. Lee and I never get tired of chuckling at ginormous catamarans with min-masts and I’m always interested to see what the heavily outfitted cruisers have on deck.
        George Town also introduced us to a new style of dinghy driving: lets call it the George Town Stand-up. This behavior is usual exhibited by lone dinghy operators but may take place in boats with multiple passengers. The person driving the dinghy stands in about the middle of the boat, facing forward with legs spread for balance, and holds their outboard motor tiller extension in one hand. The non-driving hand grips the boat’s painter/bow line for stability. It’s really doesn’t look that stable, though. In the rough conditions in Elizabeth harbor this past week I thought for sure I’d see someone fly backwards off their boat as it launched over a wave. No such luck. My theory behind why people drive like this is that they don’t want to get their butts wet. The middle of the dinghy it usually the driest place and who wants to show up to cocktail hour with soggy shorts?
        Lee and I spent a week in our anchorage off Stocking Island. We almost left yesterday but had a lot to do that morning and would not have made it to Long Island in the time we had left. The day before, Lee put on his scuba gear to search for our friends’ anchor. They had lost one of their two anchors when they pulled them up to move to the other side of the harbor. With the help of the GPS coordinates of their anchorage, Lee found the missing ground tackle in less than 15 minutes. He used the rest of the air in his little tank to change Pirat’s zincs.
        The most important goal of our stay in George Town was to find a place to moor Pirat while we fly to our wedding. After a little hunting, some pestering, and some reconnaissance snorkeling, we think we found a place. We’ll have to get Pirat over two tight spots depth-wise, once of which is very tight. The mooring basin that would only require one sketchy passage is full. We’re pretty much crossing our fingers that we can get in to the farthest basin. The only alternative is an extremely over-priced marina.

        This morning we got up at our usual early hour but had to forego our usual puttering around or exercise in order to get out of the harbor at a reasonable hour. The 20 something mile sail to the northern tip of Long Island was straight upwind. 15-20 knots of breeze with substantial swells and wind chop made this a solent day. We got enough spray over the deck to wash of some of the sand that has been accumulating. I, inevitably, did not feel well. It’s been a long time since we’ve done any sailing in real ocean conditions! I did manage to bake another beautiful loaf of bread, despite the conditions. It wasn’t actually ready until we dropped anchor in Calabash bay but it sure was a good after-sail snack.
        We’re anchored in a rather open bay with a long, sandy beach and not much protection from wind or swells. Still, it’s not too uncomfortable. A boat friend of ours is anchored in Joe’s Sound, just around the corner from us. We might try to get in their tomorrow, although it’s probably too shallow for us.         The beach here looks good for yoga and Lee promises to wait for me to establish whether there are bugs around or not before he rows away and leaves me to be eaten alive.

        I couldn’t resist the alliteration. Once again, I’ve let too much happen since my last post. It’s not like everything I have to write about is particularly interesting. I just feel somehow obligated record it.

Boats anchored along Stocking Island in Elizabeth Harbor, George Town.

        I last reported in from Black Point, Great Guana Cay, which was such a nice place that Lee and I stayed for several days. Our friends, who were in a hurry to reach George Town, left the day after we arrived. Lee and I opted to wait a while, spending a few days running around the island, doing laundry, and catching up on computer business. The laundromat (spelled “laundermat” on their sign) in Black Point was very big and clean but expensive, as I expected laundry to be out here. Fortunately we’ve been wearing the same dirty clothes over and over again, for the most part, so there wasn’t as outlandish of an amount to wash as their could have been, considering I had not done laundry since Florida.
        There were quite a few cruising boats anchored at Black Point and a few turned up in the little restaurants in town. Lee and I hung out at Lorraine’s Cafe a little bit to use the internet. I spent a few hours there while Lee went on a coconut expedition down the island. He caught the coconut bug, so to speak, and was determined to figure out how to climb a palm tree, retrieve a coconut, and hack into it’s delicious center. This was all easier said than done, although he did eventually climb a tree and snag quite a few young coconuts. The young, green coconuts have softer shells but tougher husks. The meat inside is also softer. tastes different from the coconut we’re used to, and is supposedly very good for you. We now have 4 young coconuts on the boat, just waiting to go into smoothies and the like.

        Strong winds from the southeast kept us in Black Point longer than we intended. When the wind finally abated, we took off through the cut and tacked upwind towards Little Farmer’s Cay. The cut (narrow opening between two islands that connects the banks with the sound on either side of the Exumas) was rough because the tide was going out against the wind but once we got out a little ways the seas calmed down and we settled in to a pleasant, 10-15 knot beat.
        Lee put his fishing line in the water, as the sound is where everyone’s been catching Mahimahi. It seemed easy to snag a fish out there but we didn’t get our hopes up. Imagine our surprise when the line zinged out against the clutch and the pole bent over. Lee was convinced we’d just caught a hunk of seaweed but we hove-to anyway and Lee started reeling in our catch. The line came in so easily we thought maybe we’d lost the lure. Then I noticed a fish splash near our bow and the line went under the boat. Oops. Now we had a fishing line in front of our rudder and there was clearly something on the other end. There were even a couple of huge Mahimahi swimming next to our boat!
        At that point Lee got in the dinghy, which we were towing, and starting pulling the line in by hand while I cranked the reel. A big, shiny fish finally appeared alongside the dinghy. I handed Lee a bucket, pliers, and bottle of aftershave (we’ve heard that alcohol kills fish when splashed on it’s gills). He slung the fish into the dinghy and it flopped around for a while until the aftershave or the gaping hole from the hook was too much for the poor fish. We took a few pictures and stuck our Mahi in a plastic trash bag in the fridge (it barely fit). We then spent the rest of our sail wondering how we’d clean and cook our catch.

        I ended up cleaning the fish. It wasn’t really too bad but that fish sure was a lot bigger than the trout I’m used to cleaning in CO. I cut open the trash bag and used it as a tarp on the cockpit table for my cleaning surface. There’s no need for gory details. We managed to gut the fish and cut it into steaks and filets. I marinated the steaks in some soy sauce and fresh ginger and Lee cooked them on the barbecue. It was a long, messy process but the reward was worth it! There is nothing like feasting on fresh Mahimahi you caught yourself!
        We only spent one night at Little Farmer’s but it was a beautiful place that I’d like to go back to at some point. George Town called and we knew we had a day of calm wind before some nasty weather moved in. We motored most of the way to Great Exuma and navigated through Elizabeth Harbor’s shoals in the late afternoon. A mis-programmed waypoint and some rapid shoaling led to our first grounding in the Bahamas. Luckily the bottom was sandy and we were off before long. I spotted a sea turtle as we felt our way into the harbor.
        The sheltered anchorages along Stocking Island were brimming with the largest collection of anchored boat’s I’ve ever seen. As we learned later, every cruiser in the Bahamas had descended on George Town for the annual Cruising Family Regatta this week. We passed our boat friends on the way in but anchored a little ways down the shoreline and hunkered down for the rain squall that followed. Lee managed to collect 5 gallons of rainwater, our first.
        After dinner, we joined the party onshore at the Chat n’ Chill, where a few of our friends were hanging out. The regatta kickoff party was going on and the free drinks were filled a crown of cruisers with exuberance and energy. Young and old took to the dancer floor. Entertaining costumes abounded. Lee and I took it all in for a while and even danced a few dances before heading home to bed.

DInghies lined up and ready to go.

Our team blasted off the beach with a huge lead!

        The following morning was the Coconut Run, an event in the regatta where teams of four paddle inflatables with swim fins on their hands in a race to collect as many floating coconuts as possible. The four guys from our group of friends teamed up in a dinghy and prepared for the race. Everyone started with their boats onshore, clambering into them when the race began. We girls cheered from shore and took pictures as our team blasted around the little bay. They were by far the fasted boat out there but they didn’t quite gather the most coconuts. They did, however, win the coconut bowling competition, part of a series of events held after the initial race.

That’s a lot of coconuts!

        That afternoon Lee helped search for our friends’ dinghy, which had drifted away from their boat the night before. They didn’t find it that day but someone else salvaged it and got it back to them a few days later (minus the ruined engine). Lee did some windsurfing. I did some relaxing. We joined the group for a delicious potluck aboard one couple’s boat that night. Everyone in this circle is such a great cook – we always have yummy meals.
        The next day Lee and I went for a run in George Town, on the main island (Great Exuma). We picked up some fresh groceries in town and got drenched on the upwind dinghy ride back to the boat. That afternoon we checked into moorings for Pirat during the wedding. We found a place we like but getting in there is only vaguely possible with our draft (we probably found a better spot today). After a little hike around the island Lee took to the windsurfer again and I hung out on the boat. The wind continued to howl at 15-20 knots this whole time.

        Whew! That finally brings me to yesterday!
        Lee and I took the dinghy across to George Town again yesterday morning. A friend hitched a ride and took part in our second dinghy soaking. We didn’t have much luck finding internet in town (one reason for coming in) but we managed to pick something up outside the market and took care of some important business online (like ordering Lee’s wedding clothes).
        Lee windsurfed again and I went for a run on the beach. Last night the whole gang ventured ashore to a restaurant some friends knew about where a band was playing. Lee and I had dinner there and we all enjoyed an evening off the boats.

        Here we are, finally, at Sunday morning. We fly to St. Thomas for our wedding in exactly two weeks. It’s time to get out of George Town and get some sailing done before we have to leave! Our friends are continuing south today and tomorrow and we may be ready to go by tomorrow as well. We’re still figuring out a mooring for Pirat and we need to fill up on propane, water, and gasoline for the outboard. Now we’re off for another expedition ashore to get some of those things done. Fortunately the wind has calmed down quite a bit so we should stay drier on this trip.

        Next stop: Long Island? Rum Cay? Cat Island?

Pirat’s shadow at W.W. (Lee at the top of the mast).

Here we are in a new place again. Moving down this island chain is starting to feel so natural that I take our progression South for granted. On any given day we are either enjoying where we are or working towards what’s next. From Warderick Wells, Staniel Cay came next. and Black Point followed shortly after.

Before I get too ahead of myself, Lee and I had a busy and productive last day at W.W.
I began the morning with yoga on the boat. Lee and I took the dinghy ashore after breakfast and were stunned by a huge ray that flew out of the water right in front of us and in our direction. Our volunteer work starting with painting. The warden and a couple of friendly, experienced volunteers set us up with supplies and a whaler so we could repaint a red channel marker and a couple harbor entrance markers on the rocks. These were easy jobs, except maybe for manhandling the channel buoy into the boat.
After a lunch break the warden sent us on a mission with several objectives:

1. Disassemble fire ring and scatter pile of wood assembled on Alive Beach (no fires allowed in the park!)
2. Collect trash along rocky Southeastern shore of the island.
3. Straighten up trails around Pirate’s Lair; clear and mark trails leading away from Pirate’s Lair.

It was an epic mission that kept us busy all afternoon. We took the park whaler again and enjoyed the beautiful scenery on the way to Alive Beach. The fire ring there had not been used but someone put a lot of effort into setting it up. There were two layers of large stones and the bottom layer was completely buried in the sand. We excavated all the stones and lugged them off to various locations along the beach. The pile of firewood went back into the bushes. Why can’t people just follow the rules? Why would you want to start a fire that could burn the entire island?

Next, we motored the whaler around the tip of Warderick Wells and came in close to the rocky shoreline. The warden said a lot of ocean trash collects in that area and he was right.. Lee and I filled a yard waste bag. It was mostly little things (shards of plastic, plastic bottle caps, fishing twine, and lots of random stuff) but they really added up. It didn’t help that the rocks along these islands are so unbelievably jagged. It’s a miracle no one fell on one of the knife-like protrusions.

After thoroughly denuding the rocks of unnatural debris, we moved on to Capture Beach and the Pirate’s Lair. We straightened up the rows of conch shells directing hikers to the trails and then set off with our gloves and clippers to do some trail work! We cut palm fronds, build cairns, places pieces of wood to mark trail edges, and puzzled over which way the trails actually went. The terrain was mostly jagged, holey rock slabs with palmettos, Poisonwood, and other shrubbery overgrowing the trails. The protected cove on that side of the island was the most beautiful place I’ve seen in the Bahamas so far. A small, outer cay creates a channel of calm water along the larger island. The water was clear and calm along the beach and the little channel felt cozy and private.

The perfect spot: Capture Beach.

Our afternoon of hard work was so rewarding. I felt good to help a worthwhile organization and outdoor, manual labor is always satisfying. I’m glad the Bahamas National Trust exists and does what it can to protect this beautiful place. Now, when Lee and I return to Warderick Wells someday, we can look at the red channel buoy and pristine Alive Beach and know that we played a tiny part in keeping the park running.

That evening, huge fish of an unknown variety hung out under our boat for a while. They hovered in the current while we started at them from above and I tried to work up the courage to go for my daily swim/bath.

We left Warderick Wells in the middle of the next day and motored the short distance to Staniel Cay on the gulf side (as opposed to the banks side, or “inside”). There was no wind and we watched coral pass under the boat through 50 feet of crystal water.

The world under our bow on the way to S.C.

At Staniel Cay we anchored near one of our friend boats and made a quick run into town for produce while the general store still had a good supply (the mail boat had just come that day). The tiny town is very cute in a bright, hodge-podged, island kind of way. I was amused by the cruising wives buying supplies in the general store. The first thing they grabbed was a flat of tonic water (for cocktails). They filled their baskets with some fresh produce, as I did, but also grabbed things like canned tomato paste and a box of cereal. Didn’t they stock up on things like that before coming out here? Why would you buy canned goods on an island for many times what they cost on the mainland? I felt good about my preparedness after that shopping trip.

This morning our the two boats of friends anchored at Staniel left for points south. We said goodbye for the time being, as we planned to stop in a closer cay than the one they were aiming for. Lee and I went for a nice run onshore and made a quick stop at Thunderball Grotto, a sea cave that famously appears in the James Bond movie. It was definitely worth the visit, as a friend had told us. We swam into the cave, whose mouth included a couple feet of air space, and found ourselves in a large, high-ceilinged chamber. Schools of fish (you know, the colorful striped ones) followed us in. Lee swam into the big underwater opening that I distinctly remember from the Bond movie. I stayed put and dealt with my fear of underwater spaces.

On our way our from Staniel Cay, we filled up on water at the yacht club. The wind was dying on the banks side of the islands so we took out our big genoa. Lee has been anxious to try this old sail that came with the boat. It’s bigger than our working jib and has a much lower clue. The sail change was a bit of a hassle but, in the end, totally worth it. We had another fabulous beat to our next destination.

Making dinner.

Here we are, anchored between the same two friend boats we saw at Staniel. They turned in early because of the light wind and ended up at Black Point, just like us. Black Point, a settlement on Great Guana Cay, has a big cove full of anchored boats and town complete with laundromat, restaurants, and shops. I plan to spend some time at the laundromat tomorrow and hopefully get a taste of some authentic, out-island culture. We’ll probably be here for a few days and I’d guess little Farmers Cay is next on our track.

It hasn’t even been a week since we left Nassau and Lee and I are already falling into the rhythm of the Exumas. It goes something like this: Wake up, investigate weather, explore/swim/eat/hang out, sleep, wake up, clean up boat, sail to next anchorage, explore, socialize, eat, sleep – repeat!

We have been moving about every other day but we don’t feel rushed. The distances between cays are so short that it only takes a tiny fraction of a day to sail from place to place. Every little hop is also some of the most wonderful sailing we have ever experienced. The water is flat and the wind is strong. It’s warm but not hot and there are beautiful things to look at all around.

After Highbourne we rejoined the gang of young sailors at Shroud Cay. We were all drawn to that particular island but Lee and I were heading for a different anchorage until our friends called on the radio to say there was enough depth for Pirat where they had anchored. We nosed up to the island cautiously but never saw less than 9 feet. The three couples on the other boats were all out in their various water craft when we got there. The sailing dinghy was towing the dinghy with a broken motor while an inflatable kayak did circles around them. We were so, so glad they had called us over to their anchorage. It was truly a beautiful spot. Ours were the only boats anchored snugly in a cove with a tiny sandy beach and a rocky reef around one side.

Everyone gathered on our boat for dinner that night. I served up a big pot of veggie soup others brought pressure cooker bread, humus, and drinks. We feasted and talked sailor talk.

The next morning Lee rowed me in to the beach so I could do yoga (so sweet!). It seemed like a great idea until I noticed all the tiny flies swarming around me. Lee was long gone visiting another boat and I stuck it out to the end of my practice before calling him on the VHF to come get me. The flies were a nuisance but I didn’t notice any bites. It felt great to do yoga, especially on dry land!

After breakfast it was time for some serious exploring. We had heard that tributaries through the mangroves led all the way to the other side of the sizable island. One of the group had been down them before so he led a few of us in a cross-island expedition. Once again, a comical trio of craft took to the water. There was the sailing dinghy, valiantly tacking through the current. Lee rowed our dinghy, since engines aren’t allowed up the pristine waterways. One of the gang paddled the kayak, by far the best vehicle for the trip.

We all found the brisk outgoing current pretty challenging. Lee could easily row in place but had to fight a significant water flow to make it up the channel. The sailing dinghy became a rowing dinghy until the oarlock broke, when it became a floatation device to walk next to. We encountered shallow places were we could walk, waist or ankle deep in water. We spotted sharks in deep spots and little fish hiding among the mangroves. The whole thing was like a dream. We battled the current, took in the spectacular scenery around us, and enjoyed the company of fellow adventurers.

The mangroves were low most of the time, maybe just below eye level. The tributary was sometimes as narrow as 10-13 feet and sometimes twice that wide. It seemed to go on forever! Eventually we passed a branch where the current was flowing in, so our branch lost it’s opposing flow and we picked up a lot of speed.

When we reached the other side of the island a low rise lined with trees blocked the view of the beach. We left our dinghies tied to mangroves in shallow water and walked over the rise. A spectacular sight lay before us. The ocean waves broke on rocks and reefs along a white sandy beach bordered by green trees. The water was so many different colors at once. It was like many different kinds of water converging on the shore. We found a pile of sea junk (buckets, ropes, you name it) washed up by storms. Around the corner was a pristine crescent beach perfect little waves.

We were worried about our dinghies being left high and dry as the tide continued to go out so we didn’t stay long. One couple had been smart enough to bring snacks and kindly shared them with the rest of us. We chowed down on sardines, crackers, orange, and apple, then got back in our boats for the return trip.

The current was with us this time but it was still a long journey. We saw more sharks, fish, and even a sea turtle this time. It was almost 3pm when we got back to out boats and Lee still had the energy to windsurf! I relaxed on the beach, did a little swimming, and took an ocean bath while Lee tore halfway around the island. The group met up for a potluck on the beach that night and then we all watched a movie on one of the boats. We had to stack ourselves like sardines. It was cozy.

At some point during the afternoon my lower back started to itch. Then I started scratching my neck and wrists too. I looked in a mirror and realized that the little flies had been biting me the whole time I was doing yoga. It had dozens of bites all over every part of skin that was exposed that morning. It was sooooooo itchy! It was like a traumatic flashback to my horrible poison oak episode!

Yesterday morning it was time to move and the group dispersed again. Two boats set out for Staniel Cay, a settled island outside the park, another left with no particular destination in mind (and probably ended up at Staniel), and Lee and I headed for Warderick Wells. Yes, that’s the name of and island.

My itchy bug bites have kept me awake half the night for two nights in a row now, even with benedryl. My entire body continued to itch. It seemed like new bites were popping up all the time but I swear they all came from those little flies! Itchiness is worse than pain for me. I think I’m hypersensitive to things like this after the poison oak incident. Those stupid bugs, they even bit both of my earlobes, the corner of my left eye and my upper lip. To top it off, my body’s reaction has reactivated some old bug bites so they’re itching like crazy too.

We called ahead for a mooring from the park this morning and sailed the <20 miles in perfect conditions. We even had our full sails up! Our mooring is on the outskirts of the cove near the park headquarters. This afternoon we walked to the top of Boo Boo hill and looked out to see. This is another beautiful island and it has quite a few trails as well as some Loyalist ruins I’d like to see. Today we went for a little trail run, tried out the local internet, and lounged on the beach.

Tomorrow we are volunteering to do some odd jobs for the park warden around the island. Should be fun!

Crossing the Banks to the Exumas.

Lee sings this song regularly. Back on the Chesapeake, a guy gave him this homemade CD of music by a sailor/musician. It was kinda weird, sailor-y stuff, including a song about somebody named Esmerelda. Lee left the CD in a rental car in Florida but has been singing his own versions of the Esmerelda song. In one version, he morphs the lyrics into “Mayaguana”, the name of an island in the Southern Bahamas. Lee thought it was announced my iguana, provoking a chuckle from me every time he belted out his ballad about iguanas.

Then we pulled in to the anchorage at Allan’s Cays and saw iguanas! We knew these islands were home to the last population of indigenous Bahamian Iguanas but we didn’t really know what to expect. I joked about watching for giant lizards out on the rocks (Galapagos style) when we were dropping our anchor.Then there they were: giant iguanas swarming the beach. Some silly people were feeding them. There were dozens of them and they were so cool!

Iguanas and all, Lee and I have arrived in an exotic landscape of islands and ocean. The Exumas are reputed to be some of the best cruising grounds in the world. There’s no doubt about that in my mind.Our crossing from Nassau was smooth and fabulous sailing – no rocks or coral heads got in our way.

The Allan’s Cays anchorage.

Allan’s Cays are a cluster of tiny islands near the top of the Exuma chain. They serve as a gateway for many boats from Nassau. The anchorage was crowded and plagued by strong currents but we found a nice, deep spot. Our one night there was much more comfortable than the couple of nights our two boat friends had at Allan’s. The boats we met at Bottom harbor beat us to the Exumas by a day and spent a nerve-racking first night watching their boats spin pirouettes in the current. They were anchored too close together and nearly collided several times in the night.

Sunset

We hung out with both couples as well as another young pair on boat they had met a while back that pulled in that evening. It was a boisterous group celebrating a birthday and Lee and were glad we had caught up with them.

The water looks like this!

All of us left at different times yesterday. One boat took off first and headed to the ocean side of the islands to troll for a Mahi Mahi on their way to Norman’s Cay. Their brief ocean run paid off! They radioed their success to the rest of us and I’m sure the Norman’s Cay crown had a Mahi feast last night! The whole gang moved to that cay while Lee and I opted for Highbourne Cay, the next island down the chain from Allan’s. Norman’s, the next after Highbourne, is a bit too shallow but Highbourne has room for Pirat almost all the way up to the shore.

We have good shelter from the Northeasterly wind here and good holding for the anchor. There are quite a few other boats but there is plenty of space so we don’t feel crowded at all. Yesterday evening, after we anchored and waiting for a brief rain squall to pass, Lee and I took the dinghy ashore hear the Highbourne Cay Marina and went for a great run. There are narrow little roads along the island, linking a handful of private homes and winding through the stubby palms and thick, tropical greenery. We glimpsed white sand beaches in protected coves on the ocean side and watched waves break on the reef. I picked up a couple nice shells where we landed the dinghy (I’m starting a little collection for table decorations at the wedding).

This morning began with a flurry of tools and activity as Lee attempted to diagnose a refrigeration problem. It didn’t cool off the cold plate when we ran it last night so were were afraid it had finally bitten the dust. After some tinkering, Lee started the engine and turned on the refrigeration to find it working again. We still don’t know what was wrong or whether it will happen again. I’m just thankful that we don’t have to switch back to ice!

Our renewable energy sources are also on the fritz. The problem is most likely with the charger that directs voltage from the solar panel and wind generator to our batteries. We noticed that the wind generator was making an intermittent grunting/moaning noise and our voltage hasn’t been doing so hot despite the bountiful breeze.

Look at that beautiful loaf!

Galley News: I have made bread! I feel like running around like Tom Hanks in Castaway yelling “I have made fire!”. It’s that exciting. This isn’t my first loaf of bread but it is by far the best one yet. I made the french bread recipe from last time but plopped the dough in a loaf pan instead of trying to squeeze baguettes into my tiny oven. I skipped the pan of hot water but started baking at 400 degrees, switching to 350 after 15 minutes as the recipe suggests. It worked beautifully! This loaf had actual crusty crust! I’d still like it to rise a little more so maybe I’ll try more kneading and a longer second rise next time. Now that we’re really out in the middle of nowhere I have to make bread if we want sandwiches!

Sorry for the long post. I guess I’m just excited to be able to post at all! Our BTC blackberry and tethered internet work beautifully albeit slowly. Hey, at least we can check our email, download weather, and upload blog posts.

Grrr

We’re trying to leave, really we are, stuff just keeps coming up. This morning we set out to procure a Bahamian cell phone but found that the store was closed. The building across the street was on fire – so on fire that it’s still burning tonight.

We had to take a bus to another store. That was quite an experience! The bus drivers here compete with each other for passengers and drive their mini-buses through the narrow, busy streets like they’re in a video game.

The cell phone store was rather interesting too. I’m not sure if I liked it better than scummy US cell phone companies. It was very busy and disorganized but they don’t force you into contracts and actually have reasonable rates. Now at least we can make local calls with something other than the SAT phone and even check our email in the out-islands!

Tomorrow we’re leaving for real. I promise. I also promise myself that I’m going to do yoga in the morning!

The view from our original anchorage in Nassau. That’s Atlantis on Paradise Island.

You wouldn’t think weather would be exerting so much influence on our passages at this point. What’s a little wind and a few waves after some of the sails Lee and I have done over the past few months? Well, the Bahamas introduces a new element into our passage planning: coral heads.

Depth has always been an issue. Her 7.25 ft. draft makes Pirat an awesome boat to sail but hinder sour travels somewhat. We knew we’d encounter a lot of shallow water in the Bahamas and we expected coral and rocks too. What’s tricky and unsettling about the shallows combined with the underwater dangers here is that we could be sailing along far from land in 10 foot water and come upon a coral head with only 6 feet of water above it. It’s not like we only have to worry about hitting things when we’re approaching shore or maneuvering around in an anchorage under power. We could be dodging rocks while full-on sailing in the middle of a 30-mile passage!

The trip from Nassau to the Exumas is one such passage. The banks in between are shallow and dotted with hazards. Our charts show some major things to watch out for but pretty much tell sailors that depths of 1.5 meters or less could crop us in any 3 meter zone. That means we will have to keep constant watch for anything that might reach up to bite us from below. Here’s what we know about reading the bottom from above so far.

Very, very light blue/white = very, very shallow (2-4 feet) with white sand.
Light turquoise = very shallow; too shallow for us; sandy bottom
Turquoise = shallow, probably around 10 feet so passable for us; sandy
Blue = dark patches seem to indicate either a rocky or grassy bottom; generally deep enough for us as long as it’s surrounded by deep enough water too.
Very dark blue/black = Rocks! Serious rocks seem to show up as super dark splotches that don’t lighten as you approach them and the light changes.
Blueish yellowish greenish = Coral, shallow, generally bad stuff.

Watching the underwater landscape from Pirat’s bow has got to be one of the most nerve-racking experiences ever. I constantly wonder is that dark spot a rock? Is it too shallow for us? When we go down with this wave are we going to hit the bottom? Is that light patch a shallow sand bar?

We haven’t hit anything yet but we’ve crossed some shallow, sandy areas where we probably had inches of water under our keel.. We’re definitely erring on the side of caution.

The Green Parrot, where we’ve been docking our dinghy and internet-ing it up.

So, we’re still in Nassau because as soon as the wind started coming from a favorable direction (northeast), it also came in at 20+ knots and brought clouds with it. Clouds mean no direct sunlight, which we need to be able to see the things we don’t want to hit. The mysterious bottom is even more mysterious when you can barely make out what’s down there.

We tried to leave on Thursday but elected to duck into Bottom Harbor just outside Nassau because the wind was still from the southeast. Why beat when we don’t have to? It was supposed to clock around the next day, and it did, but then the clouds arrived. Leaving our anchorage yesterday made us realize how hard it was to see in the clouds. We ended up going back into Nassau and anchoring on the East side of the harbor for an easy exit when we can finally get out of here.

Our foray to Bottom Harbor on Rose Island was not unproductive. We met people! I’ve been complaining about how we weren’t meeting people, especially cruisers our age. Well, Bottom harbor filled up with sailboats shortly after we anchored there and two of those boats belonged to young couples. Illusion and Rasmus met back in Florida and have been sailing together since then. They’ve been in the Bahamas about as long as we have and are heading to the Exumas. A third sailboat of young people joined them recently but they were off on a side trip.

Bottom Harbor on a gloomy morning. Rasmus (center), Illusion (right)

It was so amazing to sit and talk to people with similar stories to ours and similar experience levels. We spent a few hours on Rasmus Thursday night and have been communicating with the bunch on their little VHF net since we left. Hopefully we will all head to Allans Cays tomorrow, when the wind should be a bit calmer and hopefully the clouds will be gone.

Meanwhile, Lee and I will be exploring Atlantis and wondering about the gigantic party boat that woke us up by pulling in right next to Pirat and blaring insanely loud music in the middle of the night. Oh, and I’ll be stressing out about the wedding because it’s next month!!!

Frozen Cay

On our first morning at anchor in the Bahamas I started to panic. Mostly I just felt funny. I got up, looked around, made breakfast, and just sat there wondering what to do. What does one do with an anchorage – a huge expanse of water – to oneself on a sunny, beautiful morning?

There was no shore to go to (our nearby island was someone’s private island and the next closest was quite a trek away).
There were no preparations to make for a passage or a project.
There was no internet.
There were no other boats or people to watch or visit.

Our world seemed so strange, so empty and isolated. I felt like we’d passed some kind of point of no return, beyond which we were cast into an abyss water and sky. We were so, so far from where we’d started and, seemingly, from everything familiar. I sat in a daze, pondering these things all morning.

Luckily my shock wore off and I managed to enjoy the amazingly beautiful spot Lee had picked. He was looking for an anchorage we could fit into depth-wise that would protect Pirat from the southeasterly and then southeasterly forecast before we left Sunshine Marina. We planned to ride that northeasterly breeze to the Berry Islands in an overnight sail. Unfortunately, the South wind came early. We beat upwind all night and most of the next day to reach our anchorage. I now understand and appreciate two things:

1. Why cruisers don’t like sailing upwind. Who likes to beat into the seas and wind for more than 12 hours?
2. Our boat rocks. Seriously, it would be so miserable to sail a slower boat that couldn’t point as high as ours on a passage like this. It would take more tacks and more time to work through the same weather.

Okay, enough gloating about the boat.

Lee and I spent three fabulous days anchored at Frozen Cay (pronounced key, by the way). The cay next door, Little Harbor Cay, is home to Flo’s Conch Bar and provided some territory to explore. There was no one at home in Flo’s or the surrounding shacks when we visited. We petted their dog, ogled the giant piles of conch shells, and obtained a coconut from beneath one of the gazillion palm trees.

Motoring around in the dinghy to get to Little Harbor Cay and other spots was like flying over the bottom of the ocean. Normally, traveling in a boat concentrates your awareness on moving through the water, or maybe gliding over it’s surface. When the water ranges from 3 to 30 feet deep and you can see everything on the bottom in vivid detail the ocean almost disappears. Instead of moving through the water, you’re moving over what’s beneath it. I found myself watching the bottom whiz by on every dinghy ride like I would watch farmland through a car window.

We saw giant starfish, elaborate coral formations, and schools of exotic-looking fish going about their undersea business. It looked like Finding Nemo or the Little Mermaid. I actually did a little swimming with my goggles and swim cape without letting the sea life freak me out!

Lee was in and out of the water all the time. He dove down to check on the anchor, set it into the sane better, and clean the bottom of the boat. He snorkeled and windsurfed. I swam and bathed with Joy dish soap.

We picked up a second coconut on a beach at Little Harbor Cay. Lee managed to strip both coconuts of their outer husk by banging them on rocks and we took them with us to enjoy later. There were conch shells everywhere on that beach. Some of them were so old they seemed to have fossilized into the sand and become part of the rocky outcroppings along the shore.

On our last evening at Frozen Cay, Lee and I were retrieving his windsurfing bag from a beach along the private island (I know, we were trespassing) when we spotted some more coconuts and decided to augment our supply. Of course, just then a little motor boat pulled out of the private marina and people appeared along the breakwater of the formerly deserted island. Lee leaped away from the pal, dropping the coconuts, and stabbing his foot on something sharp on his way back to the dinghy. The motor boat returned the it’s harbor and no one hassled us but I pictured us in some sort of James Bond bad guy scenario involving a shark tank. Don’t only James Bond villians have private islands in the Bahamas?

We left early and sailed most of the next day to reach Nassau. It was another upwind sail in pretty strong wind and good-sized waves. Pirat does about 6 knots close hauled with a reefed main and the solent in 15-18 knots.

Nassau harbor. Apparently I can’t take straight pictures.The boat is always rocking!

Cruise ships and a beautiful sunset greeted us in Nassau harbor. We anchored alone in one spot the first night and then moved to the more popular cruiser anchorage the next day. From here we have a nice view of the Atlantis resort on Paradise Island.

Nassau is WILD. It’s strange to think that this crowded, grungy, working city is out in Atlantic ocean. We’re just starting our explorations. I think my favorite part so far is the market under the Paradise Island bridge where boats from the out-islands bring fresh seafood and produce to sell. There are all kinds of colorful shacks selling conch salad and fried fish. There are mangoes, papayas, yams and all sorts of things I can’t identify.

Some time in the next few days we plan to head for the Exumas. We’ll make our way down that long chain of islands