I last posted in March, as we worked our way south toward our rendezvous point in Great Exuma with friends and neighbours from home.
One of the final highlights of our southbound Black
Point visit was spying a Canadian Bayfield in the anchorage. Being Bayfield
sailors ourselves we couldn’t resist taking a picture and visiting her captain,
who hails from Bayfield Ontario, a beloved stop on our maiden cruise with
Peapod.
Our first stop after Black Point was
planned for the anchorage at Little Farmer’s Cay, a good place for staging the
passage to the “ocean” side through an easy cut between the islands. As we approached Little Farmer’s we noticed a
lovely deserted beach just north of the anchorages marked on the charts.
Given the flat calm seas and winds we
decided to pick our way closer to shore around the coral heads in shallow
waters. Just south of Oven Rock we threw out our anchor in complete isolation.
L 23° 58’ 40”
N; Lo 076° 19” 45” W
We could see the masts of all the boats
clustered together south of us at Little Farmers but were so happy to have this
piece of paradise all to ourselves.
First things first, I jumped in to check on
the anchor, which was beautifully dug in. While I was at it, I did a quick
foray to some nearby coral heads, confirming that it was indeed a great place
for fish spotting. The water being still a little cool, I didn’t hang around
but swam back to the boat to warm up.
We decided to take the dinghy ashore for a
beach walk. David was keen to try out his game leg without crutches
so off we went across the beach, which was primarily composed of coarsely ground
coral with a band of finer sand inland.
It wasn’t too long before he broke off a
piece of branch to use as a walking stick but he managed a good long walk
before tiring and turning back to the dinghy. Of course walking in sand is a
great workout for the intrinsic muscles of the feet, which in his case, are
quite atrophied since being in the boot cast. Later in the afternoon we donned
our wetsuits and went off to explore the coral heads that were rich in fish
life.
It turned out to be a wonderful spot to
anchor for the night. It was probably the quietest night to date with none of
the ambient noise inevitable in the busier anchorages and no wind or waves to
make things on the boat go clang-clang as they are wont to do as we rock back
and forth.
The Peapod garden gets happier every day in
the Bahamian sunshine!
We tore ourselves away from this peaceful
anchorage head headed for civilization on Great Exuma Island. Our first
adventure was going through the “cut” at Little Farmers Cay. A cut is a channel
between two islands where you can pass from the shallow Bahama Bank out to
Exuma Sound, which is open to the North Atlantic Ocean. The difference in
depths, from an average of 5 to 15 feet on the “inside” to 3 to 4 thousand
feet on the Atlantic side.
With this difference in depth, the tides
play a huge role in the cuts where the water is forced through a small opening.
Depending on the size and configuration of the cut a vessel could face a “wall”
of water, not something we would want to push through!
Fortunately, we passed easily through at low
tide and suddenly we were on the outside – always a thrill on a good weather
day! It was sunny and flat calm. There was deep, deep blue water. David put out
a fishing rod for the first time. No nibbles but a good chance to get his gear
in order.
This is the colour of
water that's over 50 feet deep - quite a switch from the bright turquoise of
the shallow inside waters.
We came into the Emerald Bay Marina on
Great Exuma Island. It is located on the eastern shore roughly 8 km north of
Georgetown, the “big city” of the Exumas. The marina is just a country block
from the Grand Isles Resort where our dear neighbours Al and Jessica bring
their two boys every year for March break.
We were treated to two amazing dinners and
to fun times with the boys. Their resort was covered in ripe coconuts so the
captain got right to it.
Staying at the marina also gave us an
opportunity to top up on water and provisions while waiting for our friend
Sandra who was flying into Georgetown airport. Not really being marina types
most of the time we did admit to appreciating some of the bonuses of being tied
up alongside. They had a beautiful air-conditioned lounge, very nice showers
and a free, super-modern laundry facility.
The manager
hosted a weekly Happy Hour with a beautiful spread. Too bad for me I had tummy flu the night before. David enjoyed it!
Sandra flew in on Sunday March 20th,
just as our friends were flying home to Ottawa. We had hoped for good weather
conditions for a hop over to Long Island, which is on our boating bucket list.
It’s only about 40 nautical miles west of Great Exuma Island, which translates
to about 5 hours in Peapod on a good day. However, a good day can be hard to
find. We were seeing high winds and
waves from the marina outlet and ominous forecasts stretching out to the end of
the week.
So while we waited for things to calm down,
we did what any sensible folks would do. We went for a nice long walk on the
beach.
This would be the day of Sandra's one and only sunburn. Being her first day on the boat, she hadn't yet developed her ritual of slathering sunscreen over all exposed surfaces, of which there were many. Oh dear, lesson learned the hard way. But it was a gorgeous walk and we had the beach pretty much to ourselves.
Finally, after 8 days of dust and houseflies while
tied up close to shore, we were ready to get back to “uncivilization” again. We
took a bit of a chance putting our noses out after so many windy days. We
pitched and rolled, and scrambled after things all over the boat that hadn’t
been secured well enough (we’re optimists!). Our dash back to the inside
passage took us through Rat Cay Cut in pretty rough seas. Not fun, but over
quickly as we dropped anchor in the lee of Lee Stocking Island on March
24th.
L23° 45” 70”
N; Lo 076° 05’ 30” W
Sandra and I had started a shell collection
for Ara, who was looking after Lucy in Florida. What an exciting assignment! We
snorkeled along the varied shoreline of the island, from rock, to coral to
sandy coves. We were careful to take only shells from creatures that had
already died, as we very only too conscious of the deterioration of the reef
environment in the Bahamas and world-wide.
David was eager to try his never-used
Hawaiian Sling to see if he could catch a fish for our dinner. I agreed to show
him where I had seen dinner-sized fish on my snorkelling expedition with Sandra.
Well it wasn’t long before he’d snagged a little one. Apparently it was an
accident as he had been aiming at the larger one. Oh well, we decided to cut
him up and put him in the freezer for future use as trolling bait.
Cleaning this little guy attracted a shark
who began regular evening visits to see if we’d had any more luck (not).
David took a hike up the hill and over to
the ocean side of the island, where the winds and seas were still high.
We love to capture Peapod in places where there are no other boats or people!
David also spent time pumping up and pumping out the dinghy to keep the old girl afloat.
Every evening at dusk we were treated to a
unique show thanks to a group of young men, who were staying at a nearby
residence. There were always two on Sea-Doos acting as wing-men and one on a
flying surf boat powered by wind. It was a stunning demonstration of balance
and strength against the idyllic backdrop of Brigantine Cay. Believe me, this guy was FLYING!!!
After 4 beautiful days and nights, we
hauled anchor, said a fond farewell to Lee Stocking Island and headed for Rudder Cut Cay, another island that was new to us this year.
We decided to take the “inside passage”
north and came across more shallow water and shifting sands than we had ever
seen before. The charts are only guidelines and visual navigation is a must
under these conditions. Every possible of colour within the colour of turquoise
tells its own story about the depth of the water. I was at the helm as the
depth sounder values plummeted and I felt the keel kiss the sand on the bottom.
A slight change in course finds us more comfortable with 3 feet (1M) of water
under our keel (whew!!).
We finally picked our way around Dove
Island and safely anchored a good distance from the main anchorage next to the
famous caves. There were two large openings in the rock, one large enough for
small tour boats (a nuisance) and the other great for exploring with a snorkel.
The holding here was only fair, with a hard
bottom and strong tidal currents. Some boats were having trouble getting a good
set. Our Rocna, as always, was fine and dug in beautifully, guaranteeing us
more worry-free nights.
The other attraction nearby was the sunken
statue of piano and mermaid, commissioned by magician David Copperfield who
owns a nearby island. She was notoriously hard to photograph while swimming
given the strength of the current so I’ve downloaded an image from the web. One day we’ll get back there at slack tide and
get a chance to float around her rather than swimming like a maniac in a
fast-flowing training pool.
We were eventually joined in the anchorage by
a Canadian yacht named “Time Out”. He had the coolest flagpole we’ve seen to
date. Next year I hope to catch him in better light.
Here that Sandra and I really revelled in
the long-distance swimming – exploring the caves, along the rock faces and into
a huge sandy cove. The water was warm and shallow and the sun sparkled on the
white sand bottom. We encountered giant stingrays. They were often
buried except for their big eyeballs and sometimes the hint of a
sand hill that outlined their enormous tail. Sometimes we would startle them
and they would fly slowly and gracefully through the turquoise water away from
us.
It was here we discovered a huge cove full of starfish. We had been worried about their populations as
they seemed less plentiful than in our early years in the Bahamas. In those days, I would sit on the bow of the sailboat and watch, through
gin-clear water, an endless show of colour and shape on the bottom. In the last
two seasons, we had seen very few.
For whatever reason, the conditions at
Rudder Cut seemed perfect for a starfish nursery. A very happy place. Beautiful
sunsets were a given.
After two peaceful nights. our next stop was Big Galliot Cay. Contrary
to its name, it is a very small island sitting in the middle of two large
outlets to the ocean. Big Current Island would have been a better name for it.
L 23 55’ 40” N; Lo 76 17’ 40”
It was a bread-making, coconut eating,
sunset watching kind of afternoon.
You may notice the strange "dimples" on the surface of my bread. This was where it rose AFTER I put it in the oven. One might think I would be happy about this additional rising. Well, not exactly. There aren't too many rack options in this wee stove. The bread hit the frame for the broiler above, stuck well and cooked on. Meanwhile the centre of the break dropped like a stone. Oh well, first world problems. It's still delicious and healthier than ever since I cut the honey in half....haha. Takes longer to toast now but no sugar crashes mid-morning!
It was also the day that the outboard
engine failed for the first time. Our first “issue” of the season was barely
traumatic as David rowed us back to Peapod from not very far away. It seemed
like a fuel starvation issue and David was suspicious that he had some dirty
fuel. He took the thing apart and did what he could but couldn’t solve the
problem on his own while afloat.
So the next morning we set off for the
Yacht Club at Little Famers Cay where we took a mooring ball. The owner’s
nephew, Aiden, is the local wizard for outboard engines. He would be available
on the following day so we took a short hike into the village looking for fresh
food. The settlement clusters around a harbour, which is bustling (on Bahamian
time) with small boats and fishermen coming and going and kids playing in the
shallows. We met a lovely lady in the one shop that was open and bought some
much needed tropical juices for the Peapod Goombay Smash served at sundowners.
One of the highlights of this stop, and
there were many, was an amazing dinner at Ty’s, a restaurant and bar on the
west side of the island near the airport landing strip. As our dinghy was out
of commission, the owner/chef (Coach) offered to give us round trip transportation from
the Yacht Club to save us a very long walk or row.
It was a spectacular spot with its own dock
and anchorage close by. We had “the best ribs in the Bahamas” as recommended by
our young friends from home that we had met in Emerald Bay. The ribs, scenery
and friendly people were spectacular and I know we will make a point of going
back there.
Coach's hospitality was amazing and of course, he was related to Aiden who would fix our engine.
Aiden is smiling and enthusiastic when we
meet. He tells us that his claim to fame is being the last baby born on Little
Farmers Cay! He proceeds to give David a full workshop on outboard maintenance
and gets the engine humming in no time. Dirty fuel was certainly an issue.
After two nice nights on the ball, swinging
with the tides and surge from Farmers Cay Cut, we head two hours north to
Black Point Settlement to wait for the food boat and do some laundry.
The deck of the laundromat overlooks the
gorgeous harbour and is the perfect place to relax while your laundry goes
through many loads at a time – a real treat!
We walked across the island to a large
deserted beach, unfortunately littered with plastic and other
non biodegradables washed up by the waves over the years. There were a few healthy coral heads with the
usual fish populations but overall we were seeing a pattern of decline in reef
health and fish size. A beautiful, albeit sad, beach day.
That night the huge cloud formations made
for a spectacular sunset and were a sign of what was to come. The following
evening, just before sundown, with no warning whatsoever from our various
weather sources, we were hit with howling wind and large waves coming from the
west. As those of you who know Black Point Settlement, it has magnificent
protection from all sides EXCEPT west!
We scrambled around getting hatches
battened and windows closed while watching as the boats in this crowded harbour
pitched and rolled, as we certainly were doing. There was one little sailboat we
couldn’t tear our eyes away from. She was bobbing and rolling so badly we
wondered how the people aboard could be managing.
Of course we were worried about other
boats’ anchors. We had full confidence in ours, but who knew when someone
else’s lets go and they come at you like a freight train? So, we kept a close
watch, standing in the doorways hanging on for dear life, wind whipping our
faces. Half a dozen boats had started their engines and begun to move. Some
would be responding to, and others anticipating, a dragging anchor.
It was what we would call a “shit show”.
Multiple boats were moving around the crowded harbour in pitch-blackness, sheets of rain, and howling winds all seeking to get closer to the head of the harbour for
“better” protection.
At this point, I was feeling quite stressed
from fear of collision and lack of control over said collision, so I retreated to my bunk with a book until the
worst had passed. Which it did, of course with David and Sandra bravely keeping watch. It ended as quickly as it had
started and we carried on with a lovely dinner.
The next day the food boat arrived,
creating a huge flurry of activity around the dock. This boat, which carries
food, mail and other supplies, is scheduled for a weekly visit to the larger
island settlements. However, it may only arrive every second week given that weather or
mechanical problems arise. The next morning all the boaters go ashore to reap whatever might be available from the food shops. Of course, we were among them.
After a leisurely week in Black Point, we
headed to the Staniel Cay Marina to top up with fresh water. Peapod was
characteristically listing to starboard once we were down one tank out of two.
Normally we just carry on crooked until we are closer to empty. However, Sandra
was rolling out of her single bunk in the forward cabin and we were wondering
if we would need to tie her in.
As much as we love Staniel Cay for their
wonderful restaurant and bar, the fuel dock is not where you want to be. Aside
from the current and wind, which were bad enough, the numerous small and large
boats in this crowded marina made it a hairy experience. Never again, we said.
We’ll move Sandra to the starboard quarter-berth in future when we’re low on
water.
The other down side to Staniel is the cost
of beer. Mind you food is not cheap either but we do enjoy supporting the two
little family grocery stores – the Pink Pearl and the Blue store. But the beer
is highway robbery as David discovered when we miscalculated his thirst when
stocking up with Kalik in Nassau.
We chose the anchorage at Big Major again for good holding with little surge. Just a long dinghy ride to the bar...:-).
L 24 11' 50" N; Lo 076 27' 40"
We were treated to the duty sunset that night, gorgeous as always but never taken for granted.
The next morning we noticed a unique craft pulled up on the party
beach at Big Major. Turns out it was a very cool sit-on-top kayak with an
overhead shade. Her captain was a spunky lady who fished every morning and sat
on the beach in the afternoon. Her husband would arrive in his fancy motor dinghy in
time for sundowners. They went back to their super yacht together, just the two
of them. He always got there first. We liked her style.
Another gorgeous sunset and then a visit to the swimming pigs,
this time with Sandra.
We had planned for this visit to the swimming pigs by collecting
lots of fresh vegetable scraps – onions, celery, carrots – from the day’s food
preparations in a plastic bag. We had
also gathered our other garbage, destined for the Staniel Cay dumpster, into a
large black garbage bags.
There were other boats at the pig beach and lots of pigs were
about. David was the first to walk up the beach with the bag of food scraps.
The larger pigs were very excited to see him and aggressively went after his
goodies. He threw down the plastic bag that was immediately attacked by hungry
hogs. One of the larger ones rushed the Peapod dinghy and started to chew
through our black garbage bag! David wrestled him away and we all made a quick
retreat in the dinghy.
We recovered our dignity and proceeded toward Staniel Cay in a growing
chop. We passed by and photographed a gorgeous yacht reportedly owned and
populated by the family of J.K Rowling.
Just as we turned the corner of this sheltered anchorage, we encountered standing waves crashing over our bow and soaking us to the skin. While it was funny for about the first two seconds, we soon realized that we would be a very bedraggled bunch by the time we stepped into the bar at Staniel. However, there was no turning back so on we went being soaked with salt water from head to eyes to toes. All the while we were admonishing ourselves for not storing the plastic ponchos in the dinghy where they are most often needed!!
We arrived, crawling up the dinghy ladder like the proverbial drowned rats. David went straight to the bar and ordered lunch. Sandra and I walked to the grocery store for a few final provisions. She was wearing shorts made from heavy fleece and walked like baby with a wet diaper there and back. All the while, she was musing about whether she should have stopped at the bar's washroom to wring them out before our walk.
The next morning, April 12th, only 9 days from Sandra’s
flight home, we were on our way north again – this time to explore Pipe Creek, famous for its shallow turquoise waters and beautiful vistas.
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