Dunmore Town - by Elsie

“Let’s go on an adventure” announces the skipper on a bright and sunny morning. I thought this whole thing was THE adventure but I listened closely. My definition of “adventure” and his is sometimes very different. It turned out he was suggesting a “good” adventure. I have to be very careful when the skipper suggests things, look where it got me!!!!

One of the places I had wanted to see was Harbour Island, more specifically Dunmore Town, where the rich and famous allegedly holiday far away from the maddening crowds. Harbour Island is a mere hop, skip and jump from Spanish Wells so it should be easy to get there. However, mother nature has been sneaky and put a reef in the way, Devil’s Backbone, and all Water guides and reference books do not recommend the sailing trip from one island to the next unless you are local or got a local pilot on board which costs upwards of $300 dollars. The fast ferry costs about $50 dollars per person one way and on our budget that was a no no. Lionel had looked carefully at the charts and tides and was 90% sure we could do it but there was always going to be that 10% so we gave it a miss and sailed (or drifted) gallantly onwards.

Now today we were anchored off the Glass Bridge. The Bridge used to be a stone arch that linked the narrow north part of Eleuthera to the fatter southern part. A long ago hurricane had blown the arch away and now a bridge stood in its place. It is very impressive. The calm Bahamian Sea on one side and the rough turbulent Atlantic Ocean on the other. All shades of blue you could think of and even more you have never seen. The proposed adventure was to hitchhike to Harbour Island, just a mere 6 or 7 miles away. Ah, my kind of adventure! So, a picnic lunch was made and a bottle of water stowed away in the backpack. We made sure we had money and a camera, how many times have we set off and forgotten these two essential items?

The first part of the journey was easy, dingy ashore and carry the dingy up the beach, past high water and secure it to a rock with a hole in it. Done. We climbed the shore up to the road, Queen’s Highway, no less. Then came a discussion on how best to hitchhike. My thoughts were to walk along the road and stick your thumb out when you hear a car coming from the appropriate direction. The reasoning being, If you kept on walking you get nearer your destination if you don’t get a lift and it makes you look energetic and positive to the would be lifter. Lionel wanted to stay at a safe spot for drivers to stop so we wouldn’t cause an accident. We compromised. We found a safe place for drivers to stop and when we heard a car we started walking and stuck our thumb out. After three minutes of this technique a car stopped. WOW! They were going to the ferry terminal and yes they would take us. We got in and the two ladies regaled us with stories about their lives and the islands. They worked in one of the luxury hotels on Harbour Island and were very busy with Christmas coming up. We were dropped off at the pier while they went to park. The “ferries” were really only water taxis which held a dozen passengers. At $5 dollars a head a very tidy business but we did muse how much they had to pay to actually run the route. The water taxi only took a matter of minutes to gulf the expanse between the islands and before we knew it we were on Harbour Island.

Looking towards the Devil's Backbone.

Lovely tree lined leafy main thoroughfare with posh shops, houses and hotels on one side and a beautiful views over to Eleuthera on the other. Huge motor boats parked at docks. There wasn’t a shortage of money here. We strolled along the street making comments about house prices, house colours and shaded and sunny gardens. I decided my multi million dollar house would be painted sunshine yellow while Lionel favoured light blue. Now, we were down to one working snorkelling mask we were on the lookout for a dive shop which we found. A nice lady sold us a snorkel and mask and we had a conversation with the owner who assured us there was not a jellyfish problem in these waters even though we sailed through a huge quiver (I so want that to be the collective noun for a lot of jellyfish) of them offshore. She also told us we would very unlikely see any hammerhead sharks. If you want to see them head for the Bimimi Islands.

Continuing our stroll we passed the library, the hospital and the graveyard. The skipper looked for a lawyers office on the other corner but the population were not as cynical as he is. Going towards the back streets the houses became smaller and instead of a gardener tending a beautiful garden there were chickens running around the back yards and ladies sitting on the front steps gossiping with their neighbours and passers by, little shacks for shops and men riding old rickety bikes with no brakes. Ah Bahamas, the contrast. We walked down to the northern shore and speculated on where the Devils Backbone was and what entrance an intrepid sailor would use to sail back to Spanish Wells. The skipper got out his Nav App and we were soon informed of all facts we needed to sail back but we didn’t need to. I short stroll back along to the ferry pier and we had seen Dunmore Town. It only took just over a hour. My sole purpose for being here was to get an ice cream, a lovely home made creamy ice. We had only passed one ice cream parlour, we knew what street it was on but if we walked up one of the cross streets we didn’t know which way to turn when we got to the junction. It was hot. It was sunny. It was sticky and really I didn’t have the energy to do it so instead we got the water taxi back.

Dunmore town

My greatest fear was that hitch hiking would not work on the way home. Lionel had estimated the distance to be about 6 miles from Ruby to the ferry pier but the pier was not in the place we thought it was. It was round the corner and beyond the “International” airport. It was International, planes flew to Miami from here! So, add on another 5 maybe 6 miles to our homeward journey. As we got off the water taxi a gentleman in a suit and tie approached us asking if we wanted a taxi. We answered in the negative but I did look longingly at the clean, air conditioned mode of transport he was pointing at. No. We are made of sterner stuff than that. On we went. We didn’t even get to the exit of the car park when our first lift stopped, a man going home to Lower Bogue. He wasn’t very talkative but dropped us off at the corner five miles down the road. Our next lift turned the corner while we were still waving the first off, a young guy who texted and spoke on his mobile phone for the 3 miles he took us. It was a bit unnerving but I don’t think I was in a position to point out that he was endangering his as well as our lives by not paying attention to where he was going. The next and last lift was a dotting grandfather on his way to Hatchett bay to deliver Christmas presents to his 5 year old grand daughter. He dropped us off at Glass Bridge where we wanted to take some pictures of the bridge and others of Ruby in the distance. After another short walk and dingy ride we were home, three hours after we left to have an adventure. We know how to have an adventure AND be home in time for lunch and some serious sun bathing in the afternoon.

The adventure highlighted a few things I have become to take for granted on our travels. The first is never believe what the guide books tell you. Dunmore Town was supposed to be the loveliest town you will ever see in The Bahamas. Nonsense. It was nice. It was tidy in some places. It was ramshackle in others but I have seen lovelier. The most important thing it highlighted tome was human kindness. I am weekly overwhelmed with the kindness strangers show to us. Hitch-hiking on a strange island. Complete strangers, but four people stopped to help us along the way. They showed interest in where we were going and what we are doing and what we had done and shared stories about their lives and islands in a quiet and generous manner.

November 2017

In which we finish our summer sojourn in the United States and head back to the Bahamas for the winter.

November opened with us on a mooring buoy in Annapolis, still waiting for the final fit of our new mainsail. We got a call at 08:30, to say it was ready and could we collect it from the dock – yes. Back on board, it took us an hour or so to fit, including the battens, which seem to be a much better system than our old sail. Apart from it being about 10 cm short in the foot (and nothing can be done about that), all appears now to be in order so Rubette was hoisted aboard, buoy let go and we set off south. Of course, the great sailing winds of the previous days had gone but, once out in the river, there was sufficient breeze for us to hoist the new sail and, with full genoa, sail the 10, miles or so down to Rhode river and another lovely anchorage. Thursday, 2^nd, brought southerly winds. We set off, with full sail, close hauled across the Chesapeake then back, putting a reef in as the wind increased to F4. To make time, we motor sailed for a couple of hours with just the main up but then, with 10 miles to go, we could sail properly again past Solomons Island and back to Cuckold Creek which we had visited a few before. More southerly winds on Friday had us sailing, motor sailing or just motoring as the shape of the bay dictated, but finished in style with 1 reef in at the entrance to Reedville. Here, we took the first right to anchor in Cockrell Creek. The view through 270 degrees was idyllic, so we ignored the direction of the huge fish processing plant. It wasn’t so easy to ignore the following morning as the wind had shifted to the north and it made its presence known. Another early-ish start on Saturday but this time with northerly winds and we broad reached across the bay and back, covering nearly 60 miles to enter the York River and anchor in Sarah Creek, where we had last been back in May.

Now it was decision time. We had hoped to make an off-shore passage round Cape Hatteras and had been rushing down as there appeared to be a window for us to do this. Now, however, the forecast winds has increased to 40 knots and, with no realistic window showing for at least the next 10 days, we decided to sample ‘the Ditch’. We though we deserved a day off so Sunday was taken fairly easy, with just an oil change on the main engine and a little trip to fill up with fuel and water. It was then into the books for Elsie to plan the first few day’s stops. On Monday, we transited down to Norfolk, managing to sail most of the way in a SSW4. Of course, the timing of the tides was atrocious, with a flood up the York River and Chesapeake turning to an ebb down the Elizabeth River. Norfolk is, of course, a huge Naval base. The first section we passed had 3 aircraft carriers and half a dozen destroyers just parked and a large helicopter / troop carrier pulled out as we approached, propelled by 6 tugs. It proceeded up river, pushing us into the margins, so we slowed and followed. Of course its destination was just beyond ours but its deceleration zone rather larger

so we had to dodge back round it to berth at a private dock owned by the local OCC Port Officer. The was a U.S. style slip, with six piles to tie up to and a tiny finger jetty. On advice, we entered bow first and didn’t make too bad a hash of it but it did make access rather difficult, especially for Elsie who doesn't go in for pier head leaps. It was very nice to find old friends here though – Venture Lady, last met in Bequia and Livingstone not seen since La Graciosa.

Glass chess set

Tuesday we spent mostly at the Chrysler museum, which has a huge glassware exhibition and an associated workshop with a lunchtime demonstration of glass blowing. This was unintentionally entertaining as the two demonstrators appeared to have personal issues, possibly regarding whose turn it was to be the star. Somewhat edgy with red hot glass being played with (and the audience being largely made up of a group of ‘learning challenged’ adults) and the denouement of the workpiece being dropped was almost predictable. We finished the day with a provisioning trip with the expectation of an early start. Wednesday was, however, horrible – cold, windy and very wet. We decided that we didn’t need to spend hours in the cockpit so hunkered down to read books and catch up on a few internetty things, blessing the decision to install central heating.

Thursday started not a lot better but there was a forecast of a dry patch in the middle so planned a 10:15 departure to catch the first bridge, 6 miles up, which opens hourly on the half hour. We had a couple of incompetent tugs to dodge (managed to get a floating walkway wrapped round an open bridge support) and a normally open rail bridge closed for no apparent reason but we made our target and transited at 11:30. From here, the industrial and Naval landscape turned rural and it was like being back in an oversize version of the Caledonian Canal. One more timed bridge opening neatly achieved and then on to the only lock on the ICW at Great Bridge. This easily accommodated the 8 yachts of varying sizes and we exited at 13:00 with the intention of just passing the bridge itself and tying up on a free wharf for the night. While we were 3^rd into the lock, we were 7^th out, as the lead boat on our side decided to giver way to the other side. We formed an orderly queue down the ¼ mile stretch to the bridge, with 3 knot speed limit. The bridge opened, told us to hurry up, then closed, leaving us on the wrong side and with an hour to wait for the next opening. We cut our losses and tied up where we were. As the rain was holding off, we took a 3 mile round trip walk to top up provisions.

Sailing down the ICW

The next morning, we were ready at 8 for the bridge and joined a little flotilla heading south. The first 15 miles were along a narrow cut but then the banks opened out. The canal was still only usable for a width of about 120 feet but the wind steadied and increased. With 20+ knots from nearly astern, it seemed a shame not to take advantage so we put out 2/3rds genoa and throttled back; then full genoa and stopped the engine. We were making over 7 knots down the narrow channel and hand steering was required but it felt good to do a bit of sailing. The wind increased to 30 knots and we had to put a bit of sail away and, after 13 miles, we were back to a narrow cut so had to put it all away and motor again. Tonight’s stop was tucked up at the north end of a large shallow lake. We were both frozen and the heating was turned on full blast to th;w us out. Suddenly we remembered our padded suits, not used since we left Ireland so we dug them out and gave them a good airing. Saturday again had a good Northerly, though a little less brisk. We managed to motor-sail with full genoa across Albermarle Sound and the Alligator River, with just the one bridge to negotiate. 4 miles motoring at the end of the day took us to Winn Bay, the start of the next cut and a comfortable anchorage, where we were joined by a few others.

ICW on a calm morning

 The wind died on Sunday, so it was motoring all the way across to the Pungo River, across the Pamlico River and through another cut to the Bay river. 52 miles in 8 ½ hours and we were glad to settle for the night. Monday started wet but we only had 18 miles to go to Oriental, where there was the possibility of a free dock and provisioning for our next leg offshore. We had to hang around for 20 minutes while someone vacated one of the two that we would fit on but tied up at 10:50. The plan was to spend 2 nights here but, on checking the weather, showed that we could depart the following morning and, maybe, get 3 days of good sailing down the coast. Once the rain stopped, we did a little exploring. It seemed a very friendly village with a good little chandler, a fish merchant who sold us a pound of shrimps (king prawns) for $14; a dragon in a pond and a marina which allowed Elsie to use their laundry facilities. There was also, a mile out of town, a Piggly Wiggly supermarket which caters for passing boaters by delivering to the dock. So we shopped, laundered and got quietly exited about doing some real sailing.

Time to find somewhere warmer

Up at first light on the 14^th and motored down Adams Creek (pausing to top up fuel) to Morehead and out to sea. Our weather planning showed us that the offshore trip to St Augustine should take about 2.5 – 2.8 days so we expected to arrive A.M. on the 17^th. We had had a look at the predicted path of the Gulf Stream, which seemed to limit us to no more than 60 miles offshore. The wind was predicted to decrease within 30 miles of the coast so we had an ideal track of 40 – 50 miles offshore a curving coast. We started Goose winged, with 2 reefs in the main and one in the genoa with a N4 blowing us along at 7 – 8 knots. That night, after reefing more of the genoa, we put a 3^rd reef in the main as the wind was up to F6-7, sending us surfing down the building swell at speeds of up to 12 knots. By 0500 on the 15^th, we were 60 miles offshore and changed to a broad reach with 3 reefs in both sails. Calculations at noon showed that, on current rate of progress, we should arrive St Augustine late evening the following day. This was not ideal as the entrance is subject to change and, with a recent hurricane could be tricky to negotiate so a change of plan was made. Jacksonville was both 20 miles closer and, being a major port, has a well maintained channel so seemed a better target. The wind decreased again to F4 so we shook out the 3^nd and, later, the 2^nd reef. The second night was crystal clear with beautiful stars, the moon just rising 2 hours before the sun and showing as a bright thin crescent and paler complete disc of reflected earthlight.

We managed to sail at an average of over 7 knots until within 10 miles of Jacksonville, where the wind dropped and we had to complete using motor, arriving at the channel just as the tide turned to give us a gentle push. 6 miles up the Johns River, we turned to starboard into Sisters Creek and found a deserted free dock to tie up to. This was next to a public ramp, which was well used by small fishing boats the next day. We spent Friday relaxing and doing a bit of tidying up. A stroll ashore was a disappointment as, although we were in a park, the only path lead to a busy highway. We had a dilemma as to how to complete the trip to St Augustine: Offshore was 30 miles but, to do it in daylight, we would be battling a flood current leaving Jacksonville and an ebb on arrival. The wind was light, so we would have to motor all the way. The ICW was reasonably straight, with no locks or opening bridges and the currents would work in our favour. So, although we would rather have gone outside, we decided to do another 30 miles of the ditch. Up at first light and let go at 0730.

The bridge

All the fixed bridges on the ICW have a nominal clearance of 65 ft and have marker boards at water level showing actual clearance. We had never seen less than 65 and most had 66 ft+. I had calculated the top of our VHF aerial at just under 61 ft and we had had no problem. As we approached the first bridge today, the marker board showed 61 ft. The combination of spring tide, easterly winds and rain must have raised the water level. We had 3 knots of current behind us; the tide was still rising, so the clearance would decrease and, if we waited 3 hours, we would have adverse currents all the way. 10 seconds to decide – go for it. Ting, ting, ting, ting, as the aerial hit each of the girders of the bridge deck. Damn. But it was still in place and apparently unharmed.

The rest of the journey down was uneventful, though you may be sure that we checked the clearance on each bridge very carefully – none was less than 65 ft. We arrived at St Augustine at 14:00 and anchored just south of the Vilano bridge. There is a public dock, with free mooring for 4 hours ans a 3 block walk to a Publix supermarket. We needed to do a big provisioning trip to stock up on basics for the winter and considered going at once but decided to leave it until the following morning. So, on Sunday, we were at the dock by 10:00 and, having enlisted the aid of Ian, my local friend, we grabbed 2 trolleys (+1 for the beer) and proceeded to empty shelves. 2 hours and $666 later, we had almost everything on the list: loads of UHT milk, fruit juice, wine, and loads beside, including tissue which is 4 times the price in the Bahamas. Having loaded this all aboard (if we had done it the day before, we might have cleared the bridge!), we headed through the Bridge of Lions to a mooring ball at the municipal marina. The offshore weather did not look inviting for our voyage to the Bahamas, so we paid for a week and settled in for the wait. Ian picked us that afternoon and took us to an open house at a neighbours’. The main theme was an oyster bake. I enjoyed the half dozen that I had but others were gorging. I later discovered that over 1500 were consumed through the afternoon. On Monday, I repaid some of Ian’s kindness by helping him with building a new deck, while Elsie got into some deep cleaning. Tuesday, we went ashore to meet some of the cruising locals and visitors at an informal wings supper. The music was loud but we managed to work out ‘our’ group by the clothing and introduced ourselves. Another couple, similarly attired, arrived, looked lost and were shepherded to a neighbouring table by a ‘local’. At the next music break, I introduced myself to them. ‘What kind of cruisers were we’? Sail boat. ‘O boaters’. Poor people, they must have presumed that we were cruising for quite another purpose but, if they were relieved or disappointed, I didn’t discover. Wednesday, we dingied a couple of miles south and walked to an Aldi and a Walmart to try to fill the gaps in our provisioning. No success at the first but some at the second, including our favourite tea and coffee, but no Weetabix to be found anywhere.

Thursday was Thanksgiving and we were invited to Ian and Lauren’s for an excellent turkey dinner and traditional puddings. The weather was foul and we stayed the night. On return to Ruby on Friday, we found Rubette flooded. As 3” of rain had been forecast overnight, I suppose that we should not have been surprised at the amount of water in the dinghy but it took quite a bit of baling. We had been surprised, on arrival in the U.S., if we were serving burgers. There is a restaurant chain called Ruby Tuesday and we had intended to try it out but failed to find a franchise. The internet located one for us so we invited Ian and Lauren to join us for a meal out. Nice, but we probably won’t make a habit of it.

The other Ruby Tuesday

We had been watching the weather and, all week, it had looked that we could leave Saturday afternoon to go direct to the Bahamas or Sunday morning to go down the Florida coast. A decision was made to go direct and, on Saturday morning, we made our final supermarket trip, to buy fresh food and let go our mooring at 12:30. The plan was to head out to the Gulf Stream, cross it at right angles and then head for the Abacos Islands. We knew that we would have to motor for a few hours and, in fact, light winds were best to cross the stream: southerlies would head us and strong northerlies would kick up a nasty chop. Of our 4 weather models, 2 gave the wind remaining light, but useable and the others gave good beam winds most of the way down. In fact we had to motor for almost all of the first 24 hours. I became concerned that, if we continued to do so, we could arrive low on fuel so decided that, if we were making any progress, we would sail and, for the next 24 hours moved very slowly and achieved less than 75 miles, possibly our slowest ever. One benefit was very calm seas and clear skies. On my morning watch, I was not only able to watch Venus rise, but observe a ‘path’ of its reflection in the water. Finally, on Monday afternoon, a sailing north-easterly sprang up. We needed to arrive in daylight and, having travelled so slowly, we now had the frustration of wasting good wind to try to limit our speed to about 4 ½ knots. We still arrived early and, at 0300 on Tuesday, Elsie heaved to 10 miles north of Moraine Cay Channel and we killed a couple of hours, making our entrance in good light at 08:00. We still had nearly 30 miles to go, just too close to the wind to be able to sail so motor-sailed and dropped anchor off New Plymouth, Green Turtle Cay, at 13:20. Ashore, to clear in and pay the $300 for our cruising permit. Unfortunately, the Bahamas TeleCom office only opens on Thursdays, so we were unable to re-activate our local number but we did find a nice bar with internet and conch fritters so were able to contact the wider world.

50 kinds of rum.  Elsie's heaven

We had a very lazy day on Wednesday, with just a little wander ashore and then over to ‘Lady Rebel’ for sun-downers with couples from 3 other boats. Thursday, we had a slightly longer walk, round Black Sound and got a new BTC SIM so that we could contact the world over the coming months. We also had our first sea dips for several months in crystal clear water – bliss. So ended November.

Monthly stats:

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Over Ground 1057