We started April at
anchor off Rum Cay, one of our favourite Bahamian islands. We had
only wandered round the village at Port Nelson before but decided to
explore a little further. Following the road to the west took us
through scrub, with the occasional house on one side and semi-cleared
plots on the other. After about a mile, where the chart shows the
road ending, we came to what seems to have been an attempt to build a
resort, on the lines of Rodney Bay or Jolly Harbour. There were
large excavations into the limestone to make a marina area and
equally large levelled areas for shops or housing. It had obviously
been abandoned years before. We continued west and found a pleasant
beach to walk along, though we didn’t see anywhere to land a
dinghy. On return, we managed to follow the beach all the way back to
Port Nelson, scrambling back up to the road near the cemetery. A
quick stop at Kay’s, this time to exchange a few books, clocked us
over 6 miles. Not bad exercise in the heat. Back to Ruby for lunch,
a little sunbathing and a bit more bottom polishing. Nearly done
now.
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| Fossilised palm leaf, Rum Cay |
The forecast for
Tuesday 2nd gave a SE’ly F3 and, with only 20 miles to
go, seemed like a good time to head off to Conception Island, another
favourite. We started well enough, using genoa rather than cruising
chute as we could see large clouds on our route. As we passed the
end of Rum Cay, these produced a NE’ly wind followed by heavy rain.
The rain soon cleared and the wind veered round to the east, but
although we set the genoa again it never really filled and we had to
motor, slowly to conserve fuel, most of the way. We were shocked, on
arrival, to see lots of boats. We had never had to share the
anchorage with more than about 3 before but now there were 12. We
managed to find a spot not far from where I reckoned would give
protection when the wind rose in 36 hours time and were relieved when
a 14th boat arrived for luck.
The third dawned
bright and calm and, now that we have a half decent dinghy, decided
to explore the interior of the island. This required us to motor
about 2 miles south, then negotiate a tricky entrance to the creek.
Once inside, we slowed right down and enjoyed a leisurely cruise for
another mile or so upstream. I had spent years, in Nigeria, living
with mangrove swamps but these were beautiful, with clear water,
nesting frigate birds and lots of turtles. One of these swam with us for a while. Back out and up the coast
a bit, we found a nice beach to land on and had it all to ourselves
for the rest of the morning. Back for lunch, got the SCUBA set out
to finish the bottom cleaning (not comfortable doing the keel with
snorkel) then dinghied off in the other direction to explore the
reef. It was OK, but not as good as some we have seen this year. A
diversion on return took us to there the main beach, where some
Americans were playing cricket. We wondered whether to offer advise
but decided instead to cross over to visit the small beach on the
north east side. This, again, was deserted so we decided that we had
had a pretty good day, despite the crowds. The following day was
spent more quietly, with just a trip down to our ‘private’ beach.
The weather forecast
indicated that the weekend would be calm, followed by westerly winds.
This would not be comfortable, so we decided to move while we could
and, on Friday, picked up at 08:30 and headed towards Cat Island on a
broad reach with an E’ly F4. Good progress was made up to Hawknest
Point, interrupted only by landing our third ever fish, a mahi-mahi or dolphin fish. Having motored so much over the last few weeks, and with an
unreliable fuel gauge, we needed a top-up so went in for fuel. It
would not be my first choice of stop as it was the most expensive
diesel we had ever bought, at $6.25 per US gallon and it is also a
tricky entrance. The wind helped us alongside but hindered
departure. We had to move the outboard from its usual spot, so that
it didn’t act as a fender and had a little twang from the wind
generator pole as it encountered a piling but managed with no damage.
From here, we continued up to New Bight, anchoring at 16:55. As we
settled to our evening cocktails, we heard music and realised that
there was a Fish Fry occurring. We regretted not going ashore until
the music was replaced with and amplified voice. This sounded like a
revivalist preacher, so decided that we were betted where we were.
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| Fish for supper |
On Saturday morning,
we were just preparing to launch the dinghy when a couple from
another yacht popped over for a chat. As they were heading ashore to
go shopping, they gave us a lift and we all walked the mile or so to
the store and back. On Sunday, we did launch and walked up the hill
to the highest point in the Bahamas, at 106 ft, and Father Jerome’s
hermitage. Monday, back ashore to try to sort our mobile networks.
This failed due to a smiling but obstructive BTC employee, so it
looked like we were going to lose some paid for data.
It was then time to
move again. The wind was forecast to change to south westerly, which
would be uncomfortable in our current position, so we headed 7 miles
across the bay to anchor at McQeen’s, opposite a long sandy beach.
On Tuesday, after spending an hour or so getting our ALIV data working, we beached the dinghy and went for a walk. It was just
going to be a little stroll but somehow we talked ourselves into
walking all the way to Hawknest point and back. This was 4 miles
each way and we had failed to bring water so Elsie was drooping a bit
on the way back. I gallantly strode ahead and picked her up in the
dinghy (which answered the question of whether I would be able to
launch it from a beach on my own), saving her the last mile or so.
We were unsure of how comfortable we were going to be on the
Wednesday, as the wind was going to swing further to the west and
increase to 20 knots but, as the worst of it was going to be during
daylight hours, decided to stay put, just adding a bit of anchor
cable and a longer snubber to absorb any shock loads. There was
nowhere within 50 miles to anchor that would give us protection so,
if it didn’t work out, we would just have to pick up, put out and
heave-to. It rained heavily, keeping us inside for the day but we
were headed directly into the waves so it wasn’t too uncomfortable.
This changed a bit at the end of the day, when the wind dropped and
veered a little and we rolled for a few hours.
On Thursday, we
decided to move again. We were now looking ahead at the weather, to
ensure that we could get down to Georgetown to meet our guests in ten
day’s time. Wed reckoned that we had time to go to the north of
Cat Island, to visit one of our favourite places, Orange Creek, get
back to the current area and be in a position to launch south in a
week’s time. The wind was supposed to be diminishing through the
day so, with a S’ly F4 we hoisted the cruising chute and headed
north. An hour later, the wind was gusting F5, so we replaced this
with full genoa. An hour after that we came out from the lee of
Hawks Nest and the swell started to get uncomfortable. As there was
nowhere up the coast that would give any respite from this, we made a
quick decision to abort. Our starting point was directly into wind
so we couldn’t just do a180 but, fortunately, I had prepared the
main so we put that up with a couple of reefs in and headed as close
to the wind as we could. The wind did now start to drop so we shook
out one reef. We had to go round a shoal area before we could head
directly to New Bight and the end of that shoal was our decision
point: New Bight or back to McQueen’s. At that point, the swell
was diminishing so we chose a middle way and just continued, close
hauled, to Old Bight, a few miles south of N.B. This proved a good
decision as it gave us somewhere new, opposite a pristine, deserted 4
mile beach. We dinghied on to it and walked into the village,
getting a few vegetables but missing out on bread as the baker closed
just as we returned. The following day, needing stores, we motor
sailed the 4 miles up to New Bight and walked to the store. Hanging
out a thumb on return gave an immediate result and we were taken back
to the dinghy by a local policeman who enlightened us about earlier
activity. The Governor General of the Bahamas was visiting.
Groceries onboard, we did a further run to get cooking gas, outboard
petrol and a couple of cans of water. As it was Friday, we decided
to sample the fish fry. This turned out to be a total damp squib.
We had a beer at the ‘Sailing Club’ which was the only place with
music. A couple of policemen, still in their ceremonials from
earlier, and a couple of local drunks were the rest of the clientele.
Several other shacks were open, but there was little custom and no
delicious cooking smell so we returned to Ruby for a quick pasta meal
instead.
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| Brothers |
On Saturday, after
another water run, we headed back down to Old Bight. Unfortunately,
several others had the same idea but, with a 3 mile beach, we were
able to spread ourselves out and, on my afternoon walk, I only had to
say ‘howareyou’ once. The wind was due to veer a little more so,
on Sunday, we sailed the 6 miles back to McQueens, parking close to
where we had before. On going ashore, we explored the other
direction. Strangely, here the sand was just a bit softer and the
beach a bit steeper, making it hard going so, on Monday, we went west
again, though not as far as we had been before. I idled away most of
the rest of the day while Elsie did a bit of cleaning – we don’t
want our guests to think that we are total slobs. All the while, we
are watching weather, both to make sure that we can be in the right
place to collect our guests and to try to plan an itinerary with them
that will show them some nice places without too much beating into
wind. Tuesday was wet,
alternating tropical downpour with just damp and miserable. The
forecast showed light, cyclonic, winds but, by mid afternoon, they
had settled into a North Easter. We had a six mile fetch from this
direction and, as we were considering heading that way anyway, we
picked up and motored to a point between New and Old Bight. Here,
there was a laundromat and, on Wednesday morning, we dinghied in with
several weeks worth of washing. The place was deserted but we
managed to track down the owner, a very nice chap who also happened
to be a pilot, who had done his British CPL at the same college as
me. Unfortunately, mains power was down, so the driers couldn’t be
used but we managed a couple of washes and used his outside hose for
a couple of water runs. Back on Ruby, the noise from his generator
was a bit intrusive, so we motored a mile south to our previous slot
off the beach and festooned Ruby in the washing which dried pretty
quickly in the 15 knot breeze. While Elsie watched, to make sure
nothing blew away, I dinghied ashore and had a good walk along the
beach.
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| It's a sign |
On Thursday, it was
time to head towards Georgetown to be ready for our guests. Anchor
up at 07:30 and, with a light following wind, motored towards Haws
Nest. 30 minutes later, a line of showers to our south veered and
increased the wind, giving us a nice (well nice-ish, as it was
raining) beam reach to the point. As the wind was dying, we put away
the genoa and motored through the inside passage, which we hadn’t
explored before. It saved a mile or so, but I wouldn’t want to do
it except in good conditions. Once south of Hawks Nest, the wind
obligingly backed again and we headed on track initially with one
reef in main and Genoa, close hauled. For once, the wind behaved
exactly as forecast, increasing to 18 knots, leading us to put a
second reef in and then backing further so that, by the time we were
in the lee of Long Island, we were on a beam reach. Entering the
sound was straightforward and we motored a couple of miles to work
our way in behind Man of War Cay to a small anchorage. This is well
away from the Georgetown zoo and is noted to give good protection
from almost all wind directions, though some reviews remarked that it
was rolly. The reviews were correct, but the current kept us head to
swell so it was bearable and, with a soft sand bottom giving great
holding, very secure. An hour pouring over the next week’s weather
didn’t yield any concrete plan. Each time we look, it changes just
a little to make yesterday’s plan look unworkable. On Friday, we
motored down to Georgetown. Despite the brisk southerly wind, most
cruisers were still in the north side of the harbour to be close to
Chat n Chill, so we were able to drop our anchor in our usual spot,
opposite Regatta point. It was a wet day and, being Good Friday,
everything was closed, so we did little. Saturday was provisioning
day. I did a water run while Elsie did a stores inventory then we
hit Exuma Markets and bought food for the week. A heavy shower came
through and, as we had forgotten the bailer, the bags got a little
soggy. While I took the first load back, Elsie replenished our rum
stocks. A break in the clouds later permitted us to go ashore for a
little walk.
I was ashore again
on Sunday morning at 8, to do last top-ups of water and petrol for
the dinghy and then go to the airport to meet our guests. Hanging
out a thumb got me there in 2 rides, strangely with the same woman who
stopped to do a little tidying at her house on the way to church.
The plane was 40 minutes late but we still had time for the day’s
plan.
The forecast had
continued to be fluid and there was no ideal solution. One option
was to head north west along the Exumas, but we would have to cut in
and out. With strong on-shore winds this would make timing of
entrances tricky. Instead, we headed up to the north of Long Island.
Winds were light, so it was a motor. The anchorage had a reputation
for being rolly but, on arrival was flat calm and with winds forecast
to be from the north east overnight we retired happy. As the wind
picked up, we discovered that the reviews were correct and it became
uncomfortable. Up early, to sail back to Cat Island, and we found
that the wind had just backed sufficiently to make that voyage an
into wind one. I had rigged the inner forestay and we set off with
full main, genoa and jib. We reefed the plain sails a few hours
later, then took down the jib. As the wind continued to back, we had
to start the engine and motor-assist. Up past Hawks Nest, we tacked
round and found that we could motor sail on the port tack back to our
favourite spot on the East side of the bay. We spent the next 2 days
here, walking to the village to find all stores closed on Tuesday and
then beach walking, swimming and generally being lazy.
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| Albi & Di in tropical gear |
On Thursday morning
we motored the 4 miles up to New Bight to enable Albi and Di,
experienced in Himalayan and Andes expeditions, to climb Mount
Alvernia. An easterly wind was building so we then headed up the
coast to find somewhere to launch from the following morning. That
somewhere turned out to be a shallow cove at Big Bluff. 3 of us swam
to the cliffs and had a little snorkel along them.
We had about 65
miles to go to Rock Sound, not somewhere to approach in the dark, so
we rose at 03:30 on Friday, heaving the anchor up at 04:00. We were
able to broad reach away with a building south easterly and made fine
progress past little San Salvador (where we saw several yachts
anchored seemingly exposed to the southerly swell), and the southern
tip of Eleuthera. A passing convergence line veered the wind
sufficiently to allow us to follow the coast up to Cape Eleuthera,
then a short goose wing run took us to the Davis passage. The wind
now increased, forcing us to put a reef in while sailing on a beam
reach, and then further necessitating a second reef as we turned
towards Deucy rocks. We had intended to proceed to Rock Sound
village and go ashore for the Friday night Fish Fry but, with the
wind now west of south, it would have given a 3 mile fetch and
probable uncomfortable night so instead we headed to Pigeon Bay. We
were not certain of the anchor holding here as there are reportedly
large areas of hard bottom and a catamaran ahead of us was just
giving up after several attempts. Whether by luck or judgement
(Elsie on the bow looking for likely spots) we managed to find a
patch of sand big and deep enough for our hook to dig in and we
settled in. There were a couple of large rocks nearby, so we
launched the dinghy and had an interesting swim round them seeing
lots of flora and fauna including a lion fish. These are an invasive
species and one is supposed to kill them on sight but, as they are
covered in venomous spines and we had no spear or protective
clothing, we left this one alone. Saturday morning, we picked up to
motor the 3 miles to the town but, 20 minutes later, a shower
approached and rather than get needlessly wet, we stopped and
re-anchored while it passed. There were many more yachts anchored at
the town than in previous years but we still managed to get a good
spot and dinghied in. First stop was the laundromat, with just
one load to keep us current, then to the supermarket for a good shop.
Lunch, then back ashore for a longer walk round the town and ocean
hole. A final run for me to the stand-pipes at the beach ensured
that our water tanks were full.
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| Canadians on board. |
On Sunday, with
slack winds, we motored the 2 miles across the bay to Deucy Rocks,
our first anchorage 2 years ago. This time, we tucked right into a
little bay and, even though it was going to be a temporary stop, I
went through the usual routine, including a good tug astern to make
sure that the anchor was well dug in. Just the other side of a
little bar were 3 or 4 dolphins, which seemed to be greeting passing
yachts, so we launched the dinghy, motored over to their general area
and swum to see if they wished to join us. They didn’t, so, with a
brief look at a small reef, went back to Ruby to wait out a shower.
Something made me put on my anchor position tracker, which was
fortunate as, after a big gust, I saw us start to move. Our anchor,
rather than digging in, had caught on a rock. This had now lifted
and was jammed in the bill of the anchor. A very rapid engine start
and pick up in pouring rain took us to safety but we had been far
closer to Deucy Rocks than I would wish. This time, we anchored a
prudent distance out and, after lunch, took the dinghy back to
snorkel round the rocks. The water was a little murky with all the
wave action from squalls but we saw a few fish, including another
lion fish.
Monday morning was
decision time. We had been watching the weather closely and I had
hoped that we would be able to work our way up Eleuthera through the
week and cross over to Abacos on Thursday in time to drop our guests
off at the weekend. This now looked impossible as there was going to
be a gusting 20 knot+ wind blowing onto the entrances to the Abacos
making entry hazardous. With current wind, we could head down to
Warderick Wells, on Exumas, and have an easy run up to Nassau at the
end of the week. A phone call to the Park office gave the
information that we would ‘probably’ get a mooring so we picked
up and headed off. There were still showers and gusts and sails were
up-and-down and in-and-out all day as we sailed back past the cape
and down. If there was no mooring available, we would have an extra
hour or so to motor round to an anchorage so I wanted to arrive by
17:30. This meant an occasional motor-assist to ensure an average
speed of 6 knots. Only in mid afternoon, did we recall that Albi had
a working satellite phone with him and we were able to confirm our
mooring and relax. We dropped sails just offshore and motored into
the mooring field, to pick up the last available buoy.
Warderick Wells was
just as wonderful as we remembered. Unfortunately, the weather
wasn’t. On Tuesday, we managed to walk a small loop, taking in
Booboo Hill and finding our driftwood maker from 2 years earlier.
While we contemplated whether to re-furbish it, a shower blew through
and we took shelter. In the afternoon we took the dinghy, initially
to Elsie’s favourite butterfly beach. Albi, Di and I then went out
to Emerald Rock to snorkel round that and a nearby head. Very nice. On returnig to the mothership Di discovered the source of a smell in her cabin that she had been dicretely keeping quiet about: the previous week she had picked up an empty conch shell from a beach. She now discovered that it had, in fact been inhabited by a hermit crab, now sadly deceased. Crab and shell were returned to the ocean.
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| Hermit crab RIP |
And so ended April.
Monthly Stats:
Across ground 338
Log 329
Across ground 338
Log 329
