April 2019

In which we mooch about the Bahamas and have our first ever long term guests.

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.

Fossilised palm leaf, Rum Cay

The forecast for Tuesday 2^nd 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 14^th 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Hermit crab RIP

And so ended April.

Monthly Stats:

Across ground 338
Log                  329