2/18/09
N23 30.241' W75 445.880'
Last day at Great Exumas
Just finishing writing in the log when the hail "Natie M!" came down the companionway. A cruising friend from early on in my trip down the ICW was alongside in her dinghy. It was Patti from the Pearson yawl "Lutra" which was now anchored 50 meters away. You will recall she was the dolphin scientist who not only saved the Natie M. from an ignoble grounding near Ponce Inlet, but gave me the insight to my near dolphin experience that I wrote about earlier. We did a quick catch up and agreed to touch base later on in the day. As I was a little undecided as to my next destination and was anxious to bid farewell to Georgetown, now that I was refueled and having had received the surfboard parts that I had been waiting on, had decided to return to Stocking Island across Elizabeth Bay. Patti invited Natie M. to cruise along with Lutra to Long Island the next day. I had heard so much about Long island and was easily persuaded. One of the more well known and regarded of what are called the family islands, named in reference to the original families dating back to early colonial and slave times that are still in residence there. Patti also described what sounded like a wonderful and very secluded anchorage at the north end of the island where a friend lived on his houseboat. Sounds good to me.
That afternoon as per my original plans I moved the Natie M. back over to the anchorage that I spent the first night in Elizabeth harbor. I wanted to say good by to some other friends on "Sun Suite "and "Opus" who had been camped out there for a couple of weeks. When I anchored there in the afternoon I hiked up the monument hill. It was a bit of a scramble up the steep slope with a lot of sand and loose rock. I was glad that I was alone as almost every step sent a small avalanche of rock down the slope. It was a quick climb though and once on top was rewarded with a spectacular view. On the Harbor side I could see the several anchorages along the shore, each with many boats, but on the sound side the view was one of waves and spray on the rocky shore. There was a substantial reef break too with monster waves. I was beginning to think that I had been anchored on the wrong island in Elizabeth Bay.
When upon returning to the dinghy, I motored south along the shore over to the beach club where many cruisers where hanging out on the beach and at the volley ball courts for the days play. Kids were running around and the adults lounged under the casuarinas and palms or played volley ball. The tiki bar was serving fresh conch and fish on a BBQ along with cold drinks. It was like a little cruiser Bali Hi! I made contact with my friends and told them I was moving on and bid them farewell. I have made so many friends on this trip. I think the cruiser lifestyle makes one more susceptible to making quick and close relationships as people drop their usual reservations at opening up when shore bound. The pervasive bon homi of sailors leads to mutual acceptance and friendships. Or maybe it's just the music and beer.
As sunset came I left the festivities and headed back to the boat. A brief radio exchange with Lutra to confirm plans and I set to making ready to sail in the morning.
2/19/09
At 0600 the anchor was up and Natie M. was underway. As for the past couple of days there had been a stiff breeze blowing out of the E-NE and we were expecting there to be a little bit of a swell. As I passed by Kidde Harbor I could see Lutra raising her main and getting underway also. To get out of Elizabeth Harbor requires not so much complicated but specific maneuvering to navigate the coral and small cays that mark the southern exit. I had programmed my handheld gps the night before with 5 waypoints just to make the 6 miles to the sound. It was easy going with the markers at some of the coral pinch points in the course. Having negotiated these and following a meandering path through a maze of smaller rock cays, and moving closer to the open ocean I began to encounter a slight swell which soon grew into some substantial waves on the bow. I would estimate that as I approached the last couple of waypoints I was running into some 8-10 foot seas. The view was amazing and scary as the Natie M. pitched and yawed through the waves and currents of the cut with 15 foot waves no more than a quarter mile away bashing away at the rocks and on the numerous reefs. Though taken back at the beautiful scenery, I must admit to a little concern as to a 15 mile passage in these kind of seas, but with the company of Lutra and a couple of larger sail boats also heading out the cut, I pressed on, though I quickly learned which of the cookware and books that were not properly stored below.
Once getting into the deep water and with getting the sails trimmed and proper course set the Natie M. flew! It was a rocking and rolling run but I gradually worked her up 6 ½ knots on a close reach. It was a thrilling sail. Captain Patti, on Lutra, and me conversed on the VHF and it soon turned into a race. Half way across we drew together to take pictures and Patti later provided for me some of the best photos, nay best photos ever, of the Natie M. under full sail. It was also a pleasure to sail alongside a classic Pearson Yawl and I also took numerous photos too. I asked Patti to describe the color of the water as it transformed from one incredible hue of blue to anther with depth change. I have always struggled in the course of this log to come up with the words to describe the amazing color of the waters here. Two of the best descriptive words we came up with were 'deep sapphire' to describe the color of the deep water of the Exumas Sound. Another one, probably not to be found in some seafaring epic, was 'Gatorade Blue' to describe the color of the shallower coastal waters.
It was just around 1330 that we approached Joes Sound and carefully approached the cut. There were numerous coral heads and the Natie M. was spared a scrape when Lutra called back to warn of an especially shallow one. One cannot afford to take your eyes off the bow when navigating this close to shore! Approaching the cut into the small harbor just inside Galliot Cay at the north end of Long Island, we both hesitated as we surveyed the little channel the lead inland. I say little and I mean 12 feet wide and at parts. The total length was not more than 75 feet but with rocks and coral and current to boot. Our luck would have it also being close to low tide. I volunteered to go first as I had the shallower draft, and with my heart in my throat zipped through with a couple of feet or more under the keel. The entrance was almost as exciting as the sail across! It added a little bit of drama to see what appeared to be a caste iron keel lying just inside the cut on the rocks, a remnant of an earlier failed attempt at this cut. Once clear of the inlet it led to a narrow channel with 8-10 feet of water with a large sand flat forming with the tide alongside. The small peninsula that formed the barrier with the open ocean was dotted with palms and trees and a couple of structures. To the east it was a half mile of exposed tidal flat of white sand dotted with some mangroves. A few other boats were already anchored and Patti's friend's houseboat was moored just a little ways further up the channel. Lutra also made it easily into the inlet and soon Natie M. was securely anchored in the sandy bottom. Once thing that is nice in sailing the Bahamas is that all you have to do to see if your anchor is set is look over the side.
After some house keeping and lunch I was pleasantly surprised to see another friend from the sloop "Daisy" row in scouting the cut. They too soon joined us in this secluded anchorage. This young couple from Maine has taken their 1969 vintage boat, after restoring her, on their own epic voyage. Some of the nicest people I have met, I was happy to run into them again. Patti came alongside too and shortly thereafter I made the acquaintance of Captain Patrick Harris. Pat restored a 72 foot Herreshoff sloop which he runs day charters in New York City (www.sailnewyork.com). Not only did he restore not such a small piece of yachting history but he works the boat in a profitable way assuring its preservation and maintenance. Of course in the winter months he lives here on Long Island. Nice way to make a living. An extremely likable chap, he invited the crews of the Natie M., Lutra and Daisy for evening cocktails to watch the sunset on the roof, or rather, top deck of the house boat.
We all regrouped after securing some driftwood for the fireplace on the roof (yes there was a clay fire oven on the top of the houseboat) and soon we were talking and laughing over rum drinks furnished by Patrick's capable blender. With sunset, the sky quickly darkened and the complete panoply of the universe spread out above. Patrick was extremely knowledgeable of the stars and soon had everyone pointing at the sky. The conversation and humor was lubricated not in the least by the two bottles of rum that soon were emptied. We returned to our boats laughing and feeling great and by 11 I was fast asleep in my berth looking forward to whatever the light would bring in the morning.
2/20/09
N23 37.038' W75 20.579'
Patti came alongside in the morning and invited me to come with her and Pat on an expedition of snorkeling and exploring the north coast of Long Island. Accepting immediately this opportunity to get a guided tour of the more remote parts of the island I packed my gear and lunch and was picked up by Pat around 0900. We took off in his go-fast dinghy, heading out the cut and north along the shore. We passed Elizabeth Taylors house (no she was there to show me her diamonds and Oscars) and as the shoreline quickly was dominated by rocky cliffs we approached one that rose prominently with the local monument to Columbus on top. The usual phallic tribute, needless to say it wasn't constructed by the remaining Awaraks or Lucaya Indians (if there are any remaining that is). Just around the head of the promontory was another small inlet similar to the one at Joe's Sound, but with the exception of rather a significant break at the entrance. Clearly there was some significant reef and rock formations at the entrance. With some trepidation on the part of Patti and me, but with complete confidence in Pat's piloting, we alternately surged and maneuvered with the waves and outboard through the rock and coral maze. On the inside the water quickly calmed down and we found ourselves motoring up a shallow and wide estuary that formed the division between Long Island proper and the Newton Cay and Cape Santa Maria. We were able to motor up the river which formed large sand flats and small inland bays bordered by red mangroves. Occasionally we would have to jump out to walk the dinghy to negotiate the shallows. The bottom was mostly sand with some rock, fortunately for me as I neglected to bring shoes. The mangroves soon closed in and we found ourselves in a narrow maze of mangroves with only a blue house on a distant hill to provide a marker for navigation. As this mangrove estuary straddles the entire cay the current switched and we found ourselves sailing with the current to shore as the tide continued to ebb. The mangroves were teaming with baby fish, mangroves being the nursery of the ocean, which darted to the safety of the tangled mangrove roots. On the bottom was littered with anemone type animals, of varying sizes 2-5 inches in diameter and flat in structure. Their edges fringed with pulsating tentacles and coming in an assortment of colors from a bronze to a cobalt blue. We rounded a bend to encounter a middle aged local couple poling their aluminum flat hulled boat up the creek. They were dressed very nicely, the woman in a colored blouse and dress, and the man in a jacket and long pants. I was somewhat incongruous encounter the three sailors in an inflatable dinghy with noisy outboard and the silent and graceful pole boat passing in the mangrove jungle. After a short while we passed the Seymours settlement and emerged into a wide shallow bay where some believe Columbus once anchored. This would be our first snorkeling spot and Patti and I were soon in the water at Pat's direction seeking conch in the bottom among densely planted in turtle grass. It was a short swim before we spotted numerous conch, unfortunately of immature size, but nevertheless a shell close to 8 inches in length, a hefty snail! We moved to the narrow outlet to the open ocean and the turtle grass quickly gave way to coral and rocky outcrops in 8-10 foot waves. Having traded my conch mesh bag for my spear I went seeking my first kill. The coral was extensive and there were even some Elk Horn coral formations. Though teaming with jacks and snapper and even spotting a large black grouper I was once again skunked at providing a meal for us. Pat tells me that black grouper are especially difficult to catch, whereas Nassau grouper practically beg you to eat them. Its probably why they are declining specie in the Bahamas having only recently been the target of conservation laws. Pat remained during this in the dinghy shepherding us around and keeping an eye out for sharks which frequent this area. We boarded the dinghy and motored north to begin our tour of the offshore reefs at Newtons Cay.
Arriving at a rather large reef about 200 yards offshore we dived once again. I was immediately struck with the difference in this reef, both in size and diversity. The coral formations were immense, forming large crevasses between and down to the white sand bottom at 25 or so feet. In addition, there were massive Elk Horn Coral formations the size of a truck. They are like large trees, only instead of ending in little branches, the size at the ends remains as large in diameter at the end as at the trunk. Where they break off, presumably from storm and waves, they form tangled piles of coral 'logs'. It was breathtaking. With the current you were able to dive quickly to the bottom and let it carry you through, below and above the formations. The sensation is as if you are flying through the trees. Sea fans, brightly colored in purple and amber, waved in the current, with schools of fish and brightly colored small reef fish everywhere. The water was crystal clear, with visibility easily 100 feet. We spent probably no more than 30-40 minutes in the water before the cool temperatures forced us out, but every second was burned into my memory. It was so beautiful that I did not even think to spearing anything here, not wanting to diminish it in any way. What a wonderful spot. Thank you Pat!
We continued our exploration of the point, rounding the tip after checking out some other reefs though impressive, barely compared to the one described above. Coming into the shoreline area known as the white cliffs, waves crashed and tossed our dinghy as we maneuvered along the shore, careful of the surge which could easily dash us to bits. The cliffs were all undercut from the waves and also formed several caves and even some blow holes. Very dramatic scenery with some rock formations almost snow white sandstone and frozen in the shape of a windswept sand dune. One cave had a 'skylight' which lit the interior to expose the eroded stone wall and a small white sand beach. Unfortunately, the tidal surge made any sort of close inspection extremely hazardous. Pat made a thrilling close pass before expertly veering off before we were sucked into the cave surge. He's quite the tour guide and even offers charters locally on his Pearson sailboat and even the famous and luxurious houseboat at Joe's sound. Yes, that was an endorsement.
The final stop on our excursion was an encounter with the largest colony of West Indian Whistling Ducks. Yes, these ducks don't quack. They live happily on this small area of the coastline and are considered endangered. They are unusual for ducks, aside from being quack-less, in that they have rather long necks and a beautiful coppery breast.
By 1500 we were back at the anchorage and I decided to tackle the burned out bulb in the anchor light. While up top, dangling 40 feet above the deck and water spotted 3 Eagle Rays swimming in formation and passing slowly by. They are so graceful as they fly through the water, gently 'flapping' their wings.
Just as I was getting ready to prepare dinner, a call from Daisy came over the radio, inviting me over for dinner. Never to turn down someone else's cooking, always better than mine, I accepted and soon joined them in their cockpit, as the sun set recounting our day's events. It was pretty dark, with the stars coming out in their full splendor, when our conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of numerous whistling low overhead. As if on cue, we turned to each other and exclaimed "Whistling Ducks!!"
2/21/09
0900
With the tide and the sun high so as to see the sea bottom more easily, Lutra and Natie M. headed south to Salt Pond. With two grocery stores and a marine supply store I was looking forward to some provisioning. I also hoped that I could finally get some access to the internet after a long spell of no communication with family and friends.
The sail was again one of a close reach in 15 knot winds. The waves were not as big this day though and though heeled over, I enjoyed the 20 mile sail down the west coast of Long Island. We arrived at 1330 and anchored near the Long Island Breeze Resort, where Patti was friends with one of the owners, and came ashore to sit on the deck of the restaurant and bar. I have to say it was one of the most beautiful clubs I had yet seen in the Bahamas. (www.longislandbreeze.com) Mike, the mentioned above, was a great host and while I struggled to get the computer hooked up (alas to no avail), we relaxed with cold beers and enjoyed the amazing view of the beautiful harbor of Salt Pond. The bay is so sheltered that you could not tell that it was blowing 15 knots outside, with just a few wavelets rippling across the water. The horizon was dotted with numerous masts of other boats and a few small rocky cays. I returned to the boat before sunset to clean up and make dinner before retiring shortly after dark.
2/22/09
N23 20.179 W75 7.366'
The next day brought the bike onshore for a little ride. As there are only two directions on this island, what the locals refer to as 'down north' and 'up south', I headed south to see what I could see. About 15 miles or so I found the Old Spanish Church which, though still standing, was without a roof. Just some rafters and the woodens shutters still in place. Depending on who you ask, it dates from either the 16th or the 18th century. Most of the concrete plaster was still in place as was the concrete floor and alter, along with the naïve and confessional grotto. Back on the bike I rode to one of the beaches on the Atlantic side. The coastline is very dramatic with many rocky out crops and small cays right off shore. With the strong winds of the previous days, there was a substantial reef break, all a little too intimidating for this novice surfer on his inflatable ULI board. Hope springs eternal though. Again, as with so much of the coastline, the view was marred by tons of plastic refuse.
With this last stop, turned around and headed 'down north' but passed the resort where the dinghy was tied and headed a little further beyond, where I found a little beach side bar and restaurant where I met up with other cruisers, some of which I had met before, that were anchored nearby. With a couple of beers among us we got into an interesting conversation between the US cruisers and the Canadians about the Cuba embargo. It was the general consensus that it was a pretty stupid law, not to mention immoral. I was also amazed to hear about the 'socialized' health care in Canada. These Canadians, all what I would describe as upper middle class judging from the size of their boats, considered their system to be vastly superior to the one, or rather lack of one, in the US. Sort of conflicts with what some of the politicians tell us, not surprisingly considering where they get much of their donations.
N23 30.241' W75 445.880'
Last day at Great Exumas
Just finishing writing in the log when the hail "Natie M!" came down the companionway. A cruising friend from early on in my trip down the ICW was alongside in her dinghy. It was Patti from the Pearson yawl "Lutra" which was now anchored 50 meters away. You will recall she was the dolphin scientist who not only saved the Natie M. from an ignoble grounding near Ponce Inlet, but gave me the insight to my near dolphin experience that I wrote about earlier. We did a quick catch up and agreed to touch base later on in the day. As I was a little undecided as to my next destination and was anxious to bid farewell to Georgetown, now that I was refueled and having had received the surfboard parts that I had been waiting on, had decided to return to Stocking Island across Elizabeth Bay. Patti invited Natie M. to cruise along with Lutra to Long Island the next day. I had heard so much about Long island and was easily persuaded. One of the more well known and regarded of what are called the family islands, named in reference to the original families dating back to early colonial and slave times that are still in residence there. Patti also described what sounded like a wonderful and very secluded anchorage at the north end of the island where a friend lived on his houseboat. Sounds good to me.
That afternoon as per my original plans I moved the Natie M. back over to the anchorage that I spent the first night in Elizabeth harbor. I wanted to say good by to some other friends on "Sun Suite "and "Opus" who had been camped out there for a couple of weeks. When I anchored there in the afternoon I hiked up the monument hill. It was a bit of a scramble up the steep slope with a lot of sand and loose rock. I was glad that I was alone as almost every step sent a small avalanche of rock down the slope. It was a quick climb though and once on top was rewarded with a spectacular view. On the Harbor side I could see the several anchorages along the shore, each with many boats, but on the sound side the view was one of waves and spray on the rocky shore. There was a substantial reef break too with monster waves. I was beginning to think that I had been anchored on the wrong island in Elizabeth Bay.
When upon returning to the dinghy, I motored south along the shore over to the beach club where many cruisers where hanging out on the beach and at the volley ball courts for the days play. Kids were running around and the adults lounged under the casuarinas and palms or played volley ball. The tiki bar was serving fresh conch and fish on a BBQ along with cold drinks. It was like a little cruiser Bali Hi! I made contact with my friends and told them I was moving on and bid them farewell. I have made so many friends on this trip. I think the cruiser lifestyle makes one more susceptible to making quick and close relationships as people drop their usual reservations at opening up when shore bound. The pervasive bon homi of sailors leads to mutual acceptance and friendships. Or maybe it's just the music and beer.
As sunset came I left the festivities and headed back to the boat. A brief radio exchange with Lutra to confirm plans and I set to making ready to sail in the morning.
2/19/09
At 0600 the anchor was up and Natie M. was underway. As for the past couple of days there had been a stiff breeze blowing out of the E-NE and we were expecting there to be a little bit of a swell. As I passed by Kidde Harbor I could see Lutra raising her main and getting underway also. To get out of Elizabeth Harbor requires not so much complicated but specific maneuvering to navigate the coral and small cays that mark the southern exit. I had programmed my handheld gps the night before with 5 waypoints just to make the 6 miles to the sound. It was easy going with the markers at some of the coral pinch points in the course. Having negotiated these and following a meandering path through a maze of smaller rock cays, and moving closer to the open ocean I began to encounter a slight swell which soon grew into some substantial waves on the bow. I would estimate that as I approached the last couple of waypoints I was running into some 8-10 foot seas. The view was amazing and scary as the Natie M. pitched and yawed through the waves and currents of the cut with 15 foot waves no more than a quarter mile away bashing away at the rocks and on the numerous reefs. Though taken back at the beautiful scenery, I must admit to a little concern as to a 15 mile passage in these kind of seas, but with the company of Lutra and a couple of larger sail boats also heading out the cut, I pressed on, though I quickly learned which of the cookware and books that were not properly stored below.
Once getting into the deep water and with getting the sails trimmed and proper course set the Natie M. flew! It was a rocking and rolling run but I gradually worked her up 6 ½ knots on a close reach. It was a thrilling sail. Captain Patti, on Lutra, and me conversed on the VHF and it soon turned into a race. Half way across we drew together to take pictures and Patti later provided for me some of the best photos, nay best photos ever, of the Natie M. under full sail. It was also a pleasure to sail alongside a classic Pearson Yawl and I also took numerous photos too. I asked Patti to describe the color of the water as it transformed from one incredible hue of blue to anther with depth change. I have always struggled in the course of this log to come up with the words to describe the amazing color of the waters here. Two of the best descriptive words we came up with were 'deep sapphire' to describe the color of the deep water of the Exumas Sound. Another one, probably not to be found in some seafaring epic, was 'Gatorade Blue' to describe the color of the shallower coastal waters.
It was just around 1330 that we approached Joes Sound and carefully approached the cut. There were numerous coral heads and the Natie M. was spared a scrape when Lutra called back to warn of an especially shallow one. One cannot afford to take your eyes off the bow when navigating this close to shore! Approaching the cut into the small harbor just inside Galliot Cay at the north end of Long Island, we both hesitated as we surveyed the little channel the lead inland. I say little and I mean 12 feet wide and at parts. The total length was not more than 75 feet but with rocks and coral and current to boot. Our luck would have it also being close to low tide. I volunteered to go first as I had the shallower draft, and with my heart in my throat zipped through with a couple of feet or more under the keel. The entrance was almost as exciting as the sail across! It added a little bit of drama to see what appeared to be a caste iron keel lying just inside the cut on the rocks, a remnant of an earlier failed attempt at this cut. Once clear of the inlet it led to a narrow channel with 8-10 feet of water with a large sand flat forming with the tide alongside. The small peninsula that formed the barrier with the open ocean was dotted with palms and trees and a couple of structures. To the east it was a half mile of exposed tidal flat of white sand dotted with some mangroves. A few other boats were already anchored and Patti's friend's houseboat was moored just a little ways further up the channel. Lutra also made it easily into the inlet and soon Natie M. was securely anchored in the sandy bottom. Once thing that is nice in sailing the Bahamas is that all you have to do to see if your anchor is set is look over the side.
After some house keeping and lunch I was pleasantly surprised to see another friend from the sloop "Daisy" row in scouting the cut. They too soon joined us in this secluded anchorage. This young couple from Maine has taken their 1969 vintage boat, after restoring her, on their own epic voyage. Some of the nicest people I have met, I was happy to run into them again. Patti came alongside too and shortly thereafter I made the acquaintance of Captain Patrick Harris. Pat restored a 72 foot Herreshoff sloop which he runs day charters in New York City (www.sailnewyork.com). Not only did he restore not such a small piece of yachting history but he works the boat in a profitable way assuring its preservation and maintenance. Of course in the winter months he lives here on Long Island. Nice way to make a living. An extremely likable chap, he invited the crews of the Natie M., Lutra and Daisy for evening cocktails to watch the sunset on the roof, or rather, top deck of the house boat.
We all regrouped after securing some driftwood for the fireplace on the roof (yes there was a clay fire oven on the top of the houseboat) and soon we were talking and laughing over rum drinks furnished by Patrick's capable blender. With sunset, the sky quickly darkened and the complete panoply of the universe spread out above. Patrick was extremely knowledgeable of the stars and soon had everyone pointing at the sky. The conversation and humor was lubricated not in the least by the two bottles of rum that soon were emptied. We returned to our boats laughing and feeling great and by 11 I was fast asleep in my berth looking forward to whatever the light would bring in the morning.
2/20/09
N23 37.038' W75 20.579'
Patti came alongside in the morning and invited me to come with her and Pat on an expedition of snorkeling and exploring the north coast of Long Island. Accepting immediately this opportunity to get a guided tour of the more remote parts of the island I packed my gear and lunch and was picked up by Pat around 0900. We took off in his go-fast dinghy, heading out the cut and north along the shore. We passed Elizabeth Taylors house (no she was there to show me her diamonds and Oscars) and as the shoreline quickly was dominated by rocky cliffs we approached one that rose prominently with the local monument to Columbus on top. The usual phallic tribute, needless to say it wasn't constructed by the remaining Awaraks or Lucaya Indians (if there are any remaining that is). Just around the head of the promontory was another small inlet similar to the one at Joe's Sound, but with the exception of rather a significant break at the entrance. Clearly there was some significant reef and rock formations at the entrance. With some trepidation on the part of Patti and me, but with complete confidence in Pat's piloting, we alternately surged and maneuvered with the waves and outboard through the rock and coral maze. On the inside the water quickly calmed down and we found ourselves motoring up a shallow and wide estuary that formed the division between Long Island proper and the Newton Cay and Cape Santa Maria. We were able to motor up the river which formed large sand flats and small inland bays bordered by red mangroves. Occasionally we would have to jump out to walk the dinghy to negotiate the shallows. The bottom was mostly sand with some rock, fortunately for me as I neglected to bring shoes. The mangroves soon closed in and we found ourselves in a narrow maze of mangroves with only a blue house on a distant hill to provide a marker for navigation. As this mangrove estuary straddles the entire cay the current switched and we found ourselves sailing with the current to shore as the tide continued to ebb. The mangroves were teaming with baby fish, mangroves being the nursery of the ocean, which darted to the safety of the tangled mangrove roots. On the bottom was littered with anemone type animals, of varying sizes 2-5 inches in diameter and flat in structure. Their edges fringed with pulsating tentacles and coming in an assortment of colors from a bronze to a cobalt blue. We rounded a bend to encounter a middle aged local couple poling their aluminum flat hulled boat up the creek. They were dressed very nicely, the woman in a colored blouse and dress, and the man in a jacket and long pants. I was somewhat incongruous encounter the three sailors in an inflatable dinghy with noisy outboard and the silent and graceful pole boat passing in the mangrove jungle. After a short while we passed the Seymours settlement and emerged into a wide shallow bay where some believe Columbus once anchored. This would be our first snorkeling spot and Patti and I were soon in the water at Pat's direction seeking conch in the bottom among densely planted in turtle grass. It was a short swim before we spotted numerous conch, unfortunately of immature size, but nevertheless a shell close to 8 inches in length, a hefty snail! We moved to the narrow outlet to the open ocean and the turtle grass quickly gave way to coral and rocky outcrops in 8-10 foot waves. Having traded my conch mesh bag for my spear I went seeking my first kill. The coral was extensive and there were even some Elk Horn coral formations. Though teaming with jacks and snapper and even spotting a large black grouper I was once again skunked at providing a meal for us. Pat tells me that black grouper are especially difficult to catch, whereas Nassau grouper practically beg you to eat them. Its probably why they are declining specie in the Bahamas having only recently been the target of conservation laws. Pat remained during this in the dinghy shepherding us around and keeping an eye out for sharks which frequent this area. We boarded the dinghy and motored north to begin our tour of the offshore reefs at Newtons Cay.
Arriving at a rather large reef about 200 yards offshore we dived once again. I was immediately struck with the difference in this reef, both in size and diversity. The coral formations were immense, forming large crevasses between and down to the white sand bottom at 25 or so feet. In addition, there were massive Elk Horn Coral formations the size of a truck. They are like large trees, only instead of ending in little branches, the size at the ends remains as large in diameter at the end as at the trunk. Where they break off, presumably from storm and waves, they form tangled piles of coral 'logs'. It was breathtaking. With the current you were able to dive quickly to the bottom and let it carry you through, below and above the formations. The sensation is as if you are flying through the trees. Sea fans, brightly colored in purple and amber, waved in the current, with schools of fish and brightly colored small reef fish everywhere. The water was crystal clear, with visibility easily 100 feet. We spent probably no more than 30-40 minutes in the water before the cool temperatures forced us out, but every second was burned into my memory. It was so beautiful that I did not even think to spearing anything here, not wanting to diminish it in any way. What a wonderful spot. Thank you Pat!
We continued our exploration of the point, rounding the tip after checking out some other reefs though impressive, barely compared to the one described above. Coming into the shoreline area known as the white cliffs, waves crashed and tossed our dinghy as we maneuvered along the shore, careful of the surge which could easily dash us to bits. The cliffs were all undercut from the waves and also formed several caves and even some blow holes. Very dramatic scenery with some rock formations almost snow white sandstone and frozen in the shape of a windswept sand dune. One cave had a 'skylight' which lit the interior to expose the eroded stone wall and a small white sand beach. Unfortunately, the tidal surge made any sort of close inspection extremely hazardous. Pat made a thrilling close pass before expertly veering off before we were sucked into the cave surge. He's quite the tour guide and even offers charters locally on his Pearson sailboat and even the famous and luxurious houseboat at Joe's sound. Yes, that was an endorsement.
The final stop on our excursion was an encounter with the largest colony of West Indian Whistling Ducks. Yes, these ducks don't quack. They live happily on this small area of the coastline and are considered endangered. They are unusual for ducks, aside from being quack-less, in that they have rather long necks and a beautiful coppery breast.
By 1500 we were back at the anchorage and I decided to tackle the burned out bulb in the anchor light. While up top, dangling 40 feet above the deck and water spotted 3 Eagle Rays swimming in formation and passing slowly by. They are so graceful as they fly through the water, gently 'flapping' their wings.
Just as I was getting ready to prepare dinner, a call from Daisy came over the radio, inviting me over for dinner. Never to turn down someone else's cooking, always better than mine, I accepted and soon joined them in their cockpit, as the sun set recounting our day's events. It was pretty dark, with the stars coming out in their full splendor, when our conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of numerous whistling low overhead. As if on cue, we turned to each other and exclaimed "Whistling Ducks!!"
2/21/09
0900
With the tide and the sun high so as to see the sea bottom more easily, Lutra and Natie M. headed south to Salt Pond. With two grocery stores and a marine supply store I was looking forward to some provisioning. I also hoped that I could finally get some access to the internet after a long spell of no communication with family and friends.
The sail was again one of a close reach in 15 knot winds. The waves were not as big this day though and though heeled over, I enjoyed the 20 mile sail down the west coast of Long Island. We arrived at 1330 and anchored near the Long Island Breeze Resort, where Patti was friends with one of the owners, and came ashore to sit on the deck of the restaurant and bar. I have to say it was one of the most beautiful clubs I had yet seen in the Bahamas. (www.longislandbreeze.com) Mike, the mentioned above, was a great host and while I struggled to get the computer hooked up (alas to no avail), we relaxed with cold beers and enjoyed the amazing view of the beautiful harbor of Salt Pond. The bay is so sheltered that you could not tell that it was blowing 15 knots outside, with just a few wavelets rippling across the water. The horizon was dotted with numerous masts of other boats and a few small rocky cays. I returned to the boat before sunset to clean up and make dinner before retiring shortly after dark.
2/22/09
N23 20.179 W75 7.366'
The next day brought the bike onshore for a little ride. As there are only two directions on this island, what the locals refer to as 'down north' and 'up south', I headed south to see what I could see. About 15 miles or so I found the Old Spanish Church which, though still standing, was without a roof. Just some rafters and the woodens shutters still in place. Depending on who you ask, it dates from either the 16th or the 18th century. Most of the concrete plaster was still in place as was the concrete floor and alter, along with the naïve and confessional grotto. Back on the bike I rode to one of the beaches on the Atlantic side. The coastline is very dramatic with many rocky out crops and small cays right off shore. With the strong winds of the previous days, there was a substantial reef break, all a little too intimidating for this novice surfer on his inflatable ULI board. Hope springs eternal though. Again, as with so much of the coastline, the view was marred by tons of plastic refuse.
With this last stop, turned around and headed 'down north' but passed the resort where the dinghy was tied and headed a little further beyond, where I found a little beach side bar and restaurant where I met up with other cruisers, some of which I had met before, that were anchored nearby. With a couple of beers among us we got into an interesting conversation between the US cruisers and the Canadians about the Cuba embargo. It was the general consensus that it was a pretty stupid law, not to mention immoral. I was also amazed to hear about the 'socialized' health care in Canada. These Canadians, all what I would describe as upper middle class judging from the size of their boats, considered their system to be vastly superior to the one, or rather lack of one, in the US. Sort of conflicts with what some of the politicians tell us, not surprisingly considering where they get much of their donations.
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