After deciding not to clear in to the Bahamas at Mayaguana, we sailed south of Acklins Island and then headed north to go outside of Long Island. Running under spinnaker all day long, mostly out of sight of the low islands, we saw only one other boat. But that boat was slowly converging with us. They had only a tiny foresail up, so they must have been motoring, although they weren’t moving very fast. Not a big boat, but definitely on a collision course, and getting close. I assumed they would change course slightly to pass behind us, but no change was happening and I couldn’t see anyone on deck. Time for a call on the radio. He answered; yes, he sees us. I thought that was adequate communication. But apparently not, as we continued on a collision course. So I called again and asked his intention — to pass ahead or astern of us. “Ahead, I guess,” was the reply. Apparently he had no intention of altering course. So I changed course and let him pass ahead. No big deal. But what the hell was he thinking? Did he have any clue what he was doing? People like that are dangerous!
In the evening we put in to Clarence Town on Long Island. There is a nice anchorage there, but we decided to go to the marina since we had to clear in, and I thought it would be nice to have some freedom to walk around town and chat with people. I almost changed my mind as we approached. Our slip was between pilings, with just barely enough water for us to float at low tide. And it turned out to be expensive, though probably not so much by Bahamas standards. We told the clerk at the marina we needed to clear in, and she called the Customs official. Turns out that although Clarence Town is a port of entry, it isn’t staffed. There was a $100 charge for the official to drive from the other end of the island. I spoke to him, suggesting that we leave the marina, anchor out, leave our Q flag up, and clear in elsewhere the next day. Nope…now that we had told him we were there, we had to clear and had to pay the fee. Oh well…
At the bar, someone looked my way and said, “Royal Cape.” It took me a minute to figure out I was wearing my shirt from the Royal Cape Town Yacht Club. And they were from Cape Town. Fun to chat with them. Plus they get extra points for recognizing that our boat is a Chris White design.
I walked into “town,” but there isn’t really any town anymore, after Hurricane Joaquin a few years back. Two big beautiful churches. Many houses with missing roofs. The grocery store boarded up and covered with vines, its sign still barely legible. A sad corner of paradise…
Next day the was no wind. We motored all day to Conception Island. The island is a marine park. No people. Beautiful anchorage. Maybe ten boats, but room for fifty. Steve and I swam ashore and walked the length of the beach. Sand so fine it felt like flour. Where does the miles and miles of sand come from here? I need to read about the geological history of the Bahamas.
Still without wind, we motored to Rat Cay — reaching the Exumas at last! Our destination on this leg is Marsh Harbor in the Abacos, but our goal was to spend some lazy time exploring the Exumas on the way. Between our cruising in Puerto Rico and our unplanned stop in the DR, our Exumas time was going to be limited. Great to finally arrive at this long string of sandy cays, with a deep Sound on one side and a shallow Bank on the other, and many cuts between.
Next day we sailed up the Sound to Little Farmers Cay. We picked up a mooring off the “yacht club” — a nice looking restaurant with a little dock with one boat there. We had read about a restaurant called Ocean Cabin, which claims to open pretty much whenever they feel like it, so on our way in we called them on the radio. Yes, they would be open for lunch…what would we like to order…? We asked about ordering after we arrive, but they said it would be better to order now. We did. And we managed to get the boat parked, paddle ashore against the current in the cut, chat with Roosevelt Nixon, owner of the yacht club, find our way into town, and find Ocean Cabin before our “reservation” time. We were the only ones there, but to my surprise the place got busy before we left.
The little restaurant had a display of new cell phones in the corner. Yes, they could sell me a SIM card and a data plan. For the next two hours the fascinating Terry Bains helped me attempt to get it working, including his making multiple phone calls to Support. I was ready to give up, but he was not, and finally together we got it working.
We bought some groceries and a bag of ice for our rum tonics, and our “lunch stop” was complete by about 5pm. But the light is still good for “eyeball navigation” (spotting the shallows and the coral heads) until nearly 7pm, so we decided to move on to an anchorage west of Great Guana Cay. With the wind veered around toward the south, and small waves nearly at right angles to the wind, it was a rolly night.
In the morning we headed for Staniel Cay, which is a yachting crossroads. Steve was not excited about anchoring where the swimming pigs come to the boat expecting handouts, but I wanted to see Thunderball Cave — a mostly underwater grotto that is in the old James Bond movie. I decided to try the “shallow route” into the harbor rather than add a couple miles to follow deep water. This turned out to be dicey, as it appeared to be even more shallow than the 1 meter indicated on the chart! We read the water as best we could, and our depth sounder at one point indicated 2.6 feet…which should have us digging a little furrow in the sand. But we never did touch, and if we had gone aground we would have simply waited on the sand for the tide to rise in an hour or so. Next time, though, I think I’ll go the long route…
We anchored near the cave and dinghied over to snorkel in it. It was smaller than I expected, but nevertheless was cool. Shafts of sunlight here and there from the high ceiling inside, lots of fish, and a familiar impressive shape to the mouth opening on the far side. Beautiful coral outside that mouth.
Next Steve and I went ashore at the marina, disposed of our trash for $6.45, and walked into town to a very well stocked “convenience store.” We bought fresh fruit, fresh baked coconut bread and zucchini bread, chocolate, cookies, lemons and limes, asparagus, lettuce, bread. Yeah! You can’t always get what you want in these Cays, so load up when you can!
The weather forecast is not good. A cold front is approaching, and the last days we have available are going to feature northerly winds and squalls — just what we don’t want for our crossing to the Abacos. So we are going to head north now, before the wind changes. While it would have been nice to hang out at Staniel Cay, we moved on again — up the Banks side to Hawksbill Cay. Hawksbill is part of the Warderick Wells marine park, and we picked up a park mooring. Since we were leaving again in the early morning, and not putting the dinghy in the water, we didn’t make it to wherever the box was where we were supposed to pay $20. We could have anchored, but they prefer that you use the moorings so anchors are not disturbing the bottom; so we did. Zeke approached the mooring too fast (his sight blocked by the spinnaker that had not yet been stowed and was now billowing as we turned into the wind), Steve hooked it with the boat hook and had the tool yanked out of his hands when the boat didn’t stop. Zeke hesitated about jumping in to rescue it, and Steve stripped to his underwear and jumped. He had an enjoyable refreshing dip after a very hot day.
I could spend a month in the Exumas, and someday I hope I do. But now we are hurrying north to the Abacos.















The guy in the boat who didn’t alter course was dangerous and stupid… It was Tom’s and my experience that where the sailing was thought to be “easy” (in that there weren’t many ways to hurt ones boat, though you might get caught up on a sand bar at low tide, etc), people could be really idiots and careless. In the Chesapeake, for example, it was not uncommon for sailers to be drunk and/or have no idea where they were and/or were just plain reckless. Tom and his former wife also experienced similar behavior when in the Bahamas. He and I never encountered anything like that in Maine waters.
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Zeke, isn’t it the parrot fish that eat and digest dead coral that makes the fine sand? Somewhere in my memory I dragged that information out, but not sure it’s accurate. Take care.
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