Leaving our fellow 'Brunswickians' and the 'faint at heart' tied to the dock at the Nassau Harbour Club, we backed out of our slip at 8:00 am on February 18th, joining several other cruisers heading for the Exumas. Unlike our visit last year when the Bahamas was a primary destination, this time we saw it as a stepping stone to the Eastern Caribbean. Due to currents and the fact that Trade Winds are easterly and you need to go southeast to reach the islands (into the wind), the best way to reach the Eastern and Western Caribbean islands from the east coast of the United States is not the direct route. Instead, the 'Thorny Path', as it's called, takes you on clockwise from Florida's east coast riding favorable or at least light winds that follow the periodic cold fronts; hiding in protected harbors as the the next front approaches. Bruce Van Sant's A Gentleman's Guide to Passages South details what is generally considered the easiest way to get from Florida to Venezuela. However, it requires a clear understanding of the weather, how islands affect the wind and above all, patience.
We have tapped into many resources for understanding the weather and with a single side band radio have found many great sources for weather forecasting and passage advice (Chris Parker's broadcasts being the best). Patience, however, is a different matter. It must be an on-board resource. One axiom for cruisers maintains that 'the most dangerous thing on board a vessel is a schedule'. Understanding that is one thing, living it something else. Few of us can or even want to live without a schedule. Whether due to family ties, doctors appointments or other commitments, at some point we all have to be some specific place at some specific time. This fact pushes against that schedule axiom. Ken's need to get home (his volunteer enlistment was nearly up) and our need to get someplace where we could leave the boat while attending my father's 90th birthday in April kept us moving forward.
Contrary to our expectation or, rather, hope, we left the protected Nassau harbor into a 20 knot wind that stayed ESE. This put it right on our nose and made for a hobby horse, uncomfortable ride. We tried several times unsuccessfully to sail, changing our destination further south in an attempt to 'close haul' our way across the Yellow Bank with its dangerously scattered coral heads. Rather than Allens Cay and its large iguana population (the little monsters that had chased our niece Eleni off the beach last winter), we charted a more southerly course to Norman's Cay with its colorful drug running history. Of course, we could have tacked back and forth into the headwind like true sailors and eventually made it, but entering an unmarked, coral laden anchorage at night seemed like a bad idea. So, we raised the 'iron jenny' and bulled our way through moderate waves, anchoring in the lee of Norman's Cay around 3:00 pm. Even though the day was bright and warm, the skies clear and we successfully avoided hitting anything, we were happy when it was over.
Norman's Cay Anchorage
The wind moderated the next morning and moved a bit south of east, clocking as a cold front passed. We took a nice dinghy ride to the Exuma Sound side of the island, passing the sunken drug runners plane, and coming ashore on a beautiful, deserted beach just north of the Whale's Tale and North Compass Point. Ken, an experienced crater and scavenger, soon set up camp with all the comforts of home. We snorkeled along the reef and although we eventually found small nice spots, we were dismayed at the unhealthy appearance of most of the coral. Still, we had a great time, eating lunch alfresco and enjoying this beautiful crescent moon, powdered sugar beach. Our return trip took us through a shallow salt pond where, due a rough running engine and concern about low fuel, we (meaning Ken and I) began pulling the dinghy (the 'Commodore' remaining on board to provide motivation and advice). As scenes from the African Queen passed through my imagination, a lady in her dinghy passed us literally. Being an astute and conscientious person, she asked if we needed any help and offered a tow. We accepted. With Ken joining our Good Samaritan, Cindy, in her dinghy (after she made sure he cleaned the sand from his sandals – not only a conscientious, but a scrupulously neat Samaritan), we soon rounded Battery Point from where we easily motored back to Live Now. With the wind clocking the west, we upped anchor and moved between Norman's and Wax Cay, spending a comfortable evening amongst several other boats.
With the wind SW, we moved through Norman's Cut the next morning, heading to Cambridge Cay. Cambridge, a part of the Exuma National Land and Sea Park, offers some of the best snorkeling in the islands. We had an easy sail arriving at Bell Cut late in the afternoon. With the sun in our eyes, navigating past the corals heads that lie just inside the inlet proved challenging but we were soon anchored off Bell Island in 9 or 10 feet of water along with 3 other boats. The anchor dug deep into into clean sand and with the island to windward, we had an early cockpit dinner prepared by Chef Ken; the boat gently rocking in a steady 20 knot west wind.
The next morning we moved the boat to a mooring just off Cambridge Cay. The wind had moderated and Ken and I dinghied up to the 'Sea Aquarium', a favorite snorkeling spot. Tying up at a buoy provided by the park, we enjoyed the best snorkeling either of us had experienced. The fish, routinely fed by tourist, cluster around as you enter the water and follow you in schools as you explore this 20 foot wall of brightly colored, fantastically formed coral. We had ideal conditions with the small cay sheltering us from the wind and the sun shining brightly overhead. We picked up another snorkel buoy on our return trip and dove on anther plane wreck (do drug runners have flight insurance?), seeing fish large enough that one alone would have fed us for a week.
Galliot Cay Anchorage
The wind backed to the north and east as we dropped our mooring at Cambridge and headed back onto the Exuma Banks. The Exumas, being a narrow string of islands with numerous cuts provide a unique opportunity to almost always sail in the lee of the islands when the wind picks up. With the wind east and northeast, we moved to the west side of the chain and sailed quietly to our next stop, Staniel Cay. Staniel hosts several marinas, a couple of grocery stores, and a general store. It's the only place you can reasonably resupply on your way to Georgetown. We anchored behind Big Major Cay along with maybe 50 other boats. Ken and I had another great snorkeling experience diving the Thunderball Grotto (named after the 007 movie). With little chance of seeing Sean Connery, Pat stayed aboard Lived Now as Ken and I visited the cave in hopes of maybe finding a Bond girl or two hanging out. That hope went unfulfilled but the snorkeling proved fabulous. Entering the grotto is almost unworldly as light streaming from a hole in the limestone ceiling pierces the blue water, highlighting iridescent coral and schools of tropical fish. Ken discovered a nurse shark resting on the bottom that must have been 9 or 10 feet long! Rooms and corridors off the grotto offer other delights with spiny sea urchins, damsel fish and angel fish, snapper, parrot fish and conch a foot in diameter.
Returning to the boat, we all dinghied onto the beach at Big Majors to be greeted by Spot, the wild pig. Years ago, a number of pigs and few goats were left on this unoccupied island. Visiting cruisers over the years bringing treats of fruit and vegetables quickly taught the pigs to welcome visitors, even swimming out to the boats as they approach. Our gift of an orange couldn't compete with the apparently more enticing bananas brought by another visitor, but Spot eventually consumed it much like a reluctant child finishes her vegetables (but only after Pat peeled it however!).
Spot the Pig
The Staniel Cay Yacht Club serves great meals and the three of us feasted on lobster, fresh snapper and steak (Pat being a non-fish eater). Excellent! Our leisurely dinner meant a dark dinghy ride back to the boat. No moon and an overcast night merged water, land and sky into a black as deep and dark as the inside of a whale! We only had to round Big Major, about a one mile to our north and keep the island to our starboard. We couldn't help but run into Live Now. I had even remembered to leave our anchor light on in anticipation of an evening return and we carried a flashlight. The wind had picked up and the tide was flowing as we confidently set out from the dock. With nothing to orient us and with the wind and tide pushing swiftly away from land, we apparently and very quickly blew by the anchorage. We did see anchor lights to our right but thinking to ourselves that we they were too close on we ran until reaching the opposite side of cove and reaching the obvious conclusion that we had missed the anchorage entirely. But, reversing our direction and with the lights to guide us, we soon arrived back at our boat. Ken thought we had missed the anchorage by a mile, but as usual, he exaggerated. In the morning, I checked and we had overshot the anchorage by only .9 of a mile!
Monday morning, the 23rd, we once again weighed anchor and continued down the Banks. Another great sailing day ended at another great anchorage, this time just off a beautiful beach behind Galliot Cay. The wind had been blowing up to 25 knots with higher gusts for several days. While this made for a terrific sailing in the lee of the cays, it also made an exit through the cuts untenable. With a 5.5' draft, we could not go much further south on the Exuma Banks side due to shallow water. We had to wait for the wind to either drop or shift before we could enter the Exuma Sound and proceed to Georgetown. We spent the next several days waiting here and at Cave Cay. Both spots were beautiful and Cave Cay offered fantastic snorkeling, but the delay had already caused Ken to miss his doctors appointment and without being able to communicate with the outside world, we worried that others may be anxious for our safety. As sure as the tides, however, we knew that the wind would eventually cooperate. On Friday, the 27th, we finally felt confident to run Cave Cay Cut. The wind was still out of the east but had dropped to less than 15 knots. Nevertheless, we still expected and got 6 foot waves and confused seas with a lee shore. Cave Cay Cut proved to be one of the easiest but we had a rocky ride down the coast. To complicate matters, we continued to have steering problems. In investigating why the auto-helm couldn't hold our course, I discovered a worn 'key' in key-way of the rudder post. when the auto-helm couldn't hold our course. This allowed the steering arm, when under strain, to slip a bit on the rudder post – not a good thing. Tightening the collar that attaches the steering arm to the post once again gave us full control but clearly something that needed attention soon.
Worry over the steering hampered our sojourn to Georgetown, particularly with the wind now blowing over 20 knots out of the ENE. We expected to see rough water entering Conch Cay Cut, the inlet into Elizabeth Harbour and Georgetown. However, timing our entrance with a slack tide mitigated the turbulence and we had no problems negotiating our way into this much feared but straight forward cut. There are reefs just inside and just south of the Cut necessitating a zigzag run, but good way points and diligent 'eyeballing' the water got us to anchor just off Kidd Cove in time for dinner at the Peace & Plenty Hotel.
Sunset Georgetown
We are not alone. Three hundred and fifty boats grace Georgetown as it gears up for the annual Cruisers Regatta. This is THE social event of the year for cruising sailors in the Bahamas. Completely volunteer-run, the Regatta sponsors volleyball, golf and tennis tournaments, sand castle competition, sail boat races , Cruiser Vs Bahamian baseball game, seminars, talent shows and nutty competitions – like, coconuts relays. Unfortunately Ken had to leave us. I can't thank him enough for his help. Joining us in Brunswick Georgia, he persevered our travails down the freezing and shallow ICW, night passages in below freezing weather, a 20 knot headwind slog across the Yellow Banks, and a seemingly endless wait for favorable winds (concurrent with the break down of our generator and the attendant loss of cold beverages). As he did last year, Ken greatly aided us in our effort to get the boat from Point A to Point B. Keeping the boat moving is not a vacation, particularly as this is the time when previously little or unused systems on the boat break down. Pat and I really appreciate Ken's help and look forward to when he and hopefully, Cindy, can joins us when we have no place to go and no schedule to keep. Thanks Ken!
Now, again, we wait. We wait for a generator part and we wait for weather. We must time our departure for after we get everything fixed and just after a passing cold front. From here we head toward Long Island Cay, Rum Cay, Mayaguana, Provo in the Turks & Caicos, then the Dominican Republic where, most likely, we'll leave the boat and return to the States for a brief visit to celebrate my father's birthday.
