May 2017

In which we finish our voyage through the Caribbean and make a dash for the U.S. coast.

Mayday 2017 was started at Black point, Exhumas. We had wandered ashore the previous evening for a recce, and now returned for some shopping. The supermarket provided basic provisions, though after picking our goods, we had to search for the owner to make a payment – presumably shoplifting is not a problem here. Our search for bread took us to a domestic kitchen, where half a dozen fresh loaves were just being turned out from the oven. Delicious!

It was only about 6 miles in direct line to our next destination, but that was doubled by the need to navigate around shallows. Staniel Cay is one of the signature destinations in the Exumas, with a fancy marina and tourist attractions. Following a narrow (unmarked) channel led is to an anchorage between the former and one of the latter. We dinghied ashore and parked at the marina’s beach for a wander round the town and top-up of our local SIM card. Elsie was fascinated by the fish cleaning station opposite the beach where there were half a dozen nurse sharks circling, close enough to touch in the shallow water. We tried to pay for use of the facility by buying a beer at the bar but after 15 minutes of trying to catch the eye of a barman who was studying the contents of his till, we gave up and returned to Ruby.

The main attraction at Staniel Cay is Thunderball Grotto, where the famous James Bond scene was set. It is only accessible through one of several small openings at water level and at low slack water. This occurred at 18:30, so we were probably better off not having had a beer. We dinghied over, but could not spot the entrance on the side nearest us so went round and I had an initial recce. As Elsie is unable to climb back into the dinghy from the water, we were worried that she would have to miss out, but the other entrance was easily found from inside and we both went in. It is truly remarkable – a huge natural dome, lit both by a skylight opening and by the blue glow coming from the water gates, crystal clear water with shoals of fish begging for scraps. Elsie was able to exit on the eastern side and swim back to Ruby, passing what she said was the best coral reef she had yet seen, and I recovered by dinghy.

Swimming pig, Big Majors Spot

The following morning, we dinghied out to Big Majors Island for the other attraction, the pigs. These have been trained to swim out to dinghies and beg for scraps. They in turn are training the boaters by, mostly, standing in the shallows and waiting for the dinghies to come to them but, nonetheless, it is one of those must-do things. By the time we had done another small provisioning and got ourselves ready, it was nearly mid-day. We only had about 20 miles to our next destination but, with light winds, we would have had to motor so, instead, just sailed 10 miles up to Bell Island. This is owned by the Aga Khan and we would not be welcomed ashore but we found a pleasant anchorage, out of sight of developments and, once the jet-skis and other toys had been put away, had a very peaceful night. Our chosen anchorage was next to the ‘runway’ for the seaplane, which arrived and departed a couple of times during our stay.

Next, it was on to Warderick Wells, a National Park site and one of the jewels of the Exumas. There are several mooring fields (anchoring is discouraged) and we were fortunate to get a mooring right next to park headquarters in the northern field. The whole island is beautiful, with rough, but well marked trails leading through scrub to wonderful sandy beaches, each with just one picnic table. The first afternoon, we climbed Boohoo Hill where, supposedly, the moans of shipwrecked mariners can be heard in the night, to place a piece of driftwood with our boat’s name on it, along with hundreds of others, as an offering to Poseidon. The following day, we dinghied down opposite Emerald Rock and walked from beach to beach, pausing for the occasional dip and then back to butterfly beach, just south of the park office, for me to snorkel round a reef and Elsie to lounge in the shallow water, now almost at blood temperature in the afternoon sun.

Warderick Wells

Ruby leading the fleet

On the 5^th, we let go at 0955 and headed back out to deep water to cross to the next major island group, Eluthera. We headed for Rock Sound, an almost totally enclosed bay a few miles in diameter but only about 3 metres deep. We had a S’ly F3-4 for the crossing, which gave us a fine broad reach but, as the wind was forecast to turn NW’ly in the night, we anchored on the Western side, just north of Deucey Rocks. This gave us nice shelter but the water was cloudier than we had become used to which meant that the bottom scrub that I spent the 6^th doing was not as easy or enjoyable as I had hoped. On the 7^th, the wind changed back to the usual easterly quadrant and we crossed the bay to join a fellow Cruising Association member, Tourterelle, and explore the town. This is prosperous but un-touristy, the main attraction being a 600 ft deep hole which connects to the ocean. We found a good supermarket and were able to get free water near the beach to keep our tanks going. The weather forecast looked good for us to stay until the weekend, sail up to Spanish Wells, at the north end of the group and then have a good passage across to Charleston, our first planned stop in the United States.

Rock Sound

Just when things could hardly get better, they suddenly get worse. It was the 3^rd anniversary of my being admitted for a major operation for cancer of the jaw and we were congratulating orselves on how well it had turned out. That evening, having a routine check round the area of my operation, I found that a salivary gland was enlarged. The next day, with no change, I confided in Elsie. We found a local doctor who agreed that it would be wise to see a specialist and we suddenly had a new objective – to get me back to Scotland ASAP. Major consultations of the internet showed that the best plan was to fly from Orlando to Glasgow at the weekend. The weather forecast showed that we could cross to the U.S. safely but slowly so we could expect to have to motor a lot of the way.

Up at first light on 9^th and, with detour into Cape Eluthera Marina for fuel, we motor sailed the length of Eluthera Bank, exiting at Fleeming Channel, then North round the End of the Abacos to Green Turtle Cay, arriving at 1230. We needed to book out of the Bahamas and this should have been the easiest place so, after a quick lunch, we dinghied ashore only to find that it was election day and the office was closed. I spoke to the Customs officer by phone and she confirmed that I need to book out in person. Another phone call to the next island, Spanish Cay, told us that there would be an officer on duty at 08:30 the following morning. This would also be a good place to top up on fuel, so we picked up anchor and motored 3 more hours. Bright and early, we tied up at the fuel dock, topped up and asked if we could stay while I complete formalities. No. The officer had not yet arrived and other boats needed fuel, so we moved berth. (Feeling a bit stressed by now, this was not a pretty manoeuvre). Finally, at 11:30 the officer arrived and informed me that all she needed was our personal departure cards which we had completed the day before and could have posted through her door. Grrrr.

Away at 12:10 and, after exciting the bank at Maraine Cay set course for Saint Augustine, 270 miles away. The weather was as before, benign but with too little wind to make good speed so it was alternate Sailing, motor-sailing and motoring, to keep the average above 5.5 knots to make our target of mid-day on the 13^th. We were hoping for a push up the coast from the Gulf stream but, when we got to where we expected to find it on the 12th, we only gained about a knot. We kept angling across, a little wary of finding a coastal counter-current and then, in the middle of the night, Elsie found the core and was able to exceed 10 knots across the ground in a force 3. This meant that we now arrived 3 hours early at the fairway buoy, as our booked marina berth was not available until 11:00. We could hear that there were no available mooring buoys and I was a little dubious as to whether we could find anchoring space inside so we just hove to until it was time to enter. We made the 11:00 opening of the Bridge of Lions and tied up at the city marina 10 minuted later. I will let you read Elsie’s account of the rest of our stay here. For my part, I flew back to Scotland, to be told that there was nothing to worry about and the inflammation was probably just caused by de-hydration (possibly while bottom scrubbing?) so lots of money, effort and disruption for no purpose than re-assurance which, on reflection, probably makes it good value.

On return to Orlando, I was collected by Ian Gault, an old work colleague from Shetland , who has moved here. His wife, Lauren, had been looking after Elsie in my absence and we spent much of the next week in their company with a couple of sleep-overs at their house on Vilano beach. We had to wait a few days for good sailing winds but, when they did come, they were very good. The Gault family joined us on the morning of the 25^th and we let go our mooring at 0900 and headed out into a W’ly 4-5 which took us up almost all the way to Charleston. The arrival could have been better for the tides and we took nearly 2 hours to motor up the fairway to the city marina, where we had booked our first night as, again, the anchorages near the city did not get good reviews. In fact, the one opposite the marina looked fine and, as it cost $86 to park alongside, we moved out the next morning.

Again, it looked as though we would have to wait a few days to get a sailing wind to take us on our next leg, up to Cape Lookout, N.C. or, better still, all the way to Norfolk, Virginia. This was not a problem as we had a nice anchorage and not only was it Memorial Day weekend, there was a huge arts festival on and we had endless entertainments to choose from. Charleston is, of itself, a beautiful city with the centre almost completely composed of old buildings, many of which date from back before the Civil War and many others made to look as though they do. They have the characteristic southern wooden exterior with huge balconies. Typically, they have a modest street frontage but are stretched 2 or 3 times as deep. The temperature was in the mid 30s C and humidity was high which meant that shade need to be sought in the middle of the day but we had many walks early and late round the old town. We also managed to take in a few musical events: the Memorial Day concert in Marion Square (very patriotic, of course with everything from the Gettysburg Address to ‘Stars and Stripes forever, including a bit of Disney in the middle); a blues brunch and an afternoon of Charleston themed music, from the origins of the St Cecilia Society, through Civil War songs, Spirituals and Gershwin to Amazing Grace, apparently inspired by a visit to the city. I say there was no problem with the delay but our insurance for named storms below N35 expires at the end of the month and we still see no definite window for progress. Fingers crossed.

Monthly miles across ground: 735.