Black Point to Musha Cay
Jan 24, 2024
Who could have guessed that the wind would be blowing when we woke up? Again we went through the motions of pouring coffee, eating breakfast, and checking the weather. There is light at the end of the wind tunnel but it’s not as bright as I would have hoped. Our constant twenty knot gusts are predicted to calm down into the teens. It’s not perfect, but at least it’s a step in the right direction. As we all settled in for another day cooped up on the boat, we were caught off guard by waves rolling in from the south. They didn’t look like much, but it wasn’t long before the rocking became uncomfortable.
Luckily our previous anchorage offered better protection from the south and was only minutes away. We opted to pull the anchor and relocate. Hauling it up in the wind was semi-strenuous. My dad fought to maneuver against the strong gusts and I repeatedly had to stop and lock the chain to prevent damage to our windlass but finally we were able to retrieve it without any hiccups.
The sandcastle house of Black Point, it is for sale in case anyone is interested
Once we rounded the corner the waves pretty much ceased to exist; it should be much nicer for sleeping tonight. Jules counted over fifty boats spread across the crowded anchorage. It was packed compared to a few days ago. Rather than be stuck on the boat for another monotonous day, we opted to go for a walk through town. My parents wanted to show Jules and I a blowhole on the eastern side of the island. A geologic one, not the one on top of a whale.
Coastal blowholes are formed when the rocky shoreline is eroded to form a subterranean sea cave. The caves turn vertically toward the surface and expose themselves over time creating a way for water to escape. Depending on the tide, size of the waves, and dimensions of the cave the amount of water expelled can fluctuate widely.
A diagram of a geologic blowhole
We lowered the skiff and headed into town. After dumping another bag of trash, we headed to inquire about more bread as our first loaf was nearly gone. My dad raved about this woman’s baking skills all the way from Florida and I can now confirm, it’s killer bread! She told us that she hadn’t made any coconut cinnamon raisin today, but to stop by tomorrow morning.
Next the four of us strolled through town to the northeastern part of the island looking for the blowhole. There wasn’t much signage so we ended up passing it and had to back-track slightly. Unfortunately, we arrived at the site around low tide so it wasn’t much of a geyser. The waves along the coast were still quite large and occasionally one of them would roll in just right to send a light mist blowing out of the hole.
The feature was nestled toward the back of a narrow cut with a tall outcrop of rocks on one side. Jules and I climbed up to get a better view of the coast. What the blowhole lacked in spectacle the shoreline more than made up for; the waves detonated against the sharp rocks spraying water against the coast. She and I carefully climbed back down and joined my parents around the blowhole.
We had a great view from up there
The area surrounding it was covered in trash deposited by the geyser, I guess that’s better than in the ocean. We searched through some of the debris and managed to find some pieces of sea glass. It’s really just a fancy term for glass that has been left in the water and weathered by the tumbling action until it is smooth. Jules picked up a few new pieces for her crown project and then we headed back to town to check out the grocery stores.
The project queen hard at work
Black Point is a very quiet little town. Only two cars passed us on the way to the blowhole and back, and we were walking on the main road. When we got into town, two of the three grocery stores were closed at 2:30 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. We did manage to snag a couple of bell peppers from the one that was open though.
Finally we headed back out to the Altitude Adjustment and, after some deliberation, chose to skip happy hour at Lorraine’s Bar. Instead Jules and my mom frankensteined together some piña coladas with our ingredients on the boat. While they made cocktails, my dad was troubleshooting the push-to-start button on our skiff engine.
It has been very inconsistent lately and only works about half the time. He thought that changing the oil may help, but apparently not. After poking around “under the hood” and a few google searches we think it may be a solenoid issue. The bad news is that solenoids are electrical and we have no replacement, the good news is that the engine pulls-to-start pretty easily. Fingers crossed it stays that way.
Later, while cooking dinner we had a visit from a huge black witch moth. These moths are considered an omen of death and misfortune in many cultures although some parts of the Bahamas call them “money bats” and believe they can bring good luck. The one that visited us was a male, which is generally smaller than the females, and we thought he was awesome. He hung out for a little while, I’m assuming because of our lights, before disappearing into the night.
Hopefully he took the bad luck with him
Jan 25, 2024
Last night our anchorage looked like a city. There were so many boat lights spread through the area I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more cruisers on anchor than residents on the island. There was also a rooster that continually drove us up the wall all night. It may have taken a break from crowing around midnight, but the minute the clock said 4:00 a.m. he was back at it. Slowly my eyelids peeled open and hatred began to boil. Whoever the owner is has more self-control than I do. If that was my bird, he would have been fried chicken long ago.
By the time we all got up, the consensus was to depart Black Point immediately, but not before we went and got our bread. My dad and I lowered the skiff and headed to secure the loaf. When we arrived, the woman was again outside weaving some palm fronds. We asked about the coconut cinnamon raisin loaf and were invited into her house.
My dad and I followed her into the kitchen and she said “this is where the magic happens”. The smell was divine, like fresh baked cookies on Christmas from grandma. There were multiple loaves cooling in pans on top of her oven and sure enough one of them was for us. We paid her $10 and returned to the boat with our fresh bounty. Time to create some distance between us and that abhorrent rooster. Our total travel time was under an hour but there is no way we’ll hear him tonight.
We ended up just south of Jack’s Bay on Great Guana Cay. The bay hides a small beach nestled in the rocky shoreline and we went to check it out. My parents had visited this spot on their first trip and wanted to see if anything had changed.
Great Guana Cay is fairly narrow here and has an overgrown path that leads to the eastern side of the island. My mom and dad walked it in their first year and found a beautiful cove that had been decimated by trash. They described the scene and it broke my heart; the beach had been covered in so much waste that they couldn’t even walk on it. The four of us remained hopeful and trudged through the dense foliage.
Before we even reached the cove there were piles of trash littering the side of the trail. Plastic five gallon buckets, milk crates, oil containers, and flip-flops were a mere fraction of the waste problem. I was noticeably upset before even reaching the cove. The beach has been cleaned up extensively, but it needs so much more help.
My parents said they couldn’t even walk on the sand the last time they were here
The area is so gorgeous. A high sheer limestone cliff reaches into the air on the left side and the beach extends from it to make a half circle across the back of a small cove. The water cascaded in through a tiny opening between the cliff and the iron shore on the right and spilled into the tiny bay. Unfortunately, this is how plastic trash finds its way in and gets trapped.
The bottleneck leading into Jack’s Cove
My parents waded into the water and began skimming through it and pulled out handfuls of clear plastic with every pass. There were massive ropes and bunches of netting sprawled across the sand and rocks everywhere we looked. Again, my parents said that there was far less waste than their previous visit. The whole scene made me feel so dejected, I just stood in bewilderment trying to process what I was seeing.
Something has be done to stop the pollution
After scavenging through the trash we decided to return to the skiff. My dad had found a pretty good cutting board to use for cleaning fish and Jules found more turquoise crabline for her crafts. I think the important thing to remember here is that the cove has been cleaned up extensively in comparison to the last time my parents were here. The plastic problem seems immense but the actions of just a few people can make a huge difference, hopefully the small amount of clean-up we did made an impact as well.
Getting cleaner one step at a time
The four of us headed to a much larger beach near the Altitude Adjustment and my parents took a walk. I finally remembered that I brought some golf clubs and foam balls and started practicing my bunker shots. I drew a par three in the sand and dug a generous hole at the end. Luckily the balls float because the wind pushed many of my shots right and into the water. Jules took the opportunity to work out while I attempted to hone my skills.
I need to stay on top of the game or my buddies will take all of my money when I get home
Finally the heat started to get to me and I had to get in the water. We were so sheltered from the wind and swells that there were no waves crashing on the beach so I waded in and just sat down. I managed to talk Jules into trying some golf and she begrudgingly admitted that it was pretty fun, but trust me the foam balls make it much easier.
I found the monster of Loch Ness!
Eventually the sun fully drained our energy levels and we headed back to the boat to eat and recharge. It was nice to not have any neighbors for a change, the only other boat near us left in the early afternoon so we had this spot all to ourselves. Shortly after sunset the full moon rose on the opposite horizon, it reflected off of the water brilliantly. Julia said it was so bright she needed sunglasses to sleep.
Jan 26, 2024
The weather was so indecisive today. When we woke up, gray clouds loomed on the horizon with occasional bursts of rain spattering the boat. Jules and I had our hatch open above us and had to act fast to avoid getting soaked. She and I scrambled to loosen the knobs that hold it open and immediately after it closed the rain stopped. Typical right?
We have been asking for precipitation for over a week to rinse off the boat, but the weather doesn’t seem to listen. The Altitude Adjustment is absolutely coated in salt. Every surface I touch outside is gritty, and we can barely see out of our windows. The twenty seconds of moisture we received this morning wasn’t nearly enough to make a difference.
My dad finally caved and began using our fresh water to rinse it off. He sprayed off the front deck and pilothouse windows while my mom and I cleaned the aft deck. I attempted to spray off our side windows, but the wind had other plans. I squeezed the nozzle and instantly had water blowing straight back in my face. Who doesn’t love a cold morning shower?
The wind has continually blown east for nearly a week, yet somehow the waves continue to roll in from the south. Seeing as how our spot hardly offers any south protection, it’s no wonder we didn’t have any neighbors. After enduring the rocking all night, we opted to leave and continue south.
We were briefly in the eye of the storm
By the time we left the sun had broken through the morning clouds and it was getting hot. We vacated our spot and headed back out on the bank to relocate. We weren’t ten minutes into traveling and the sun disappeared, the waves intensified, and the wind picked up even more. The sky began spitting tiny amounts of rain at us and we clocked consistent gusts of wind over thirty knots. What the heck happened to our sunlight? Luckily our boat has plenty of power and traveling in the strong winds wasn’t a problem.
We were underway for less than an hour to reach our spot just north of Little Farmers Cay. By the time we arrived, there were plenty of other boats in the area. We snuck through those anchored on the outside and secured a good spot. Initially, we had hoped that Little Farmers would block the south rollers but the waves continued to bounce us around.
Shortly after we anchored, the sun broke back out and the wind settled down again. It has been too long since our last snorkel so we squeezed into our wetsuits and loaded up the skiff eager to take advantage of the sun. Time to see if there is anything worth checking out.
We cruised through the area and were sorely unimpressed. We had seen other skiffs roving around but I’m not sure what they were seeing. My dad drove us over to a small dark spot in the water and I rolled out to inspect the site. There was a small shallow reef covered in fish. I disturbed a small green sea turtle laying on the sand and he swam off immediately. Sorry dude!
I surfaced and informed the crew to hop in with me. We swam around the structure and found multiple huge conchs. With so many boaters around I’m surprised no one has picked them up to eat. There were two absolute goliaths nestled under the rock. I picked one up and exposed the gorgeous pink underside of its shell, it was stunning. I showed the group and gently laid it back in the sand.
Easily one of the biggest conchs I’ve ever seen
There were tons of big-eyed squirrel fish darting in and out of the crevasses joined by small schools of snapper and all manner of juvenile reef fish. Jules and I spotted a young french angelfish and queen angelfish. The difference in colors and patterns between the life stages is astonishing. If you compare the juvenile to the adult they look like completely different fish.
This little guy will soon lose the vertical stripes and transition to have yellow edges on the majority of its scales instead
We saw tons of red thorny starfish in the surrounding area which is a first. It was surprising to see such a large population having not seen any during our previous snorkels. There must be a large distribution of clams and anemones for them to feed on. They may be slow moving but waste no time in making a meal out of other invertebrates.
Sizing up its next bite to eat
There were also multiple corals going to blows on the small reef. Corals have a very unique way of warring against one another for space. Some species are able to expel “mesenterial filament” which is a combination of nematocysts (stinging cells, like a jellyfish) and digestive enzymes that they will lash out for defense or combat.
In some cases it creates a sort of underwater barrier that other corals can’t or won’t cross, other times it can be much more detrimental. The stinging cells will do irreversible harm to the point where the neighboring coral dies and the aggressor can claim their spot. Hard surfaces are a massively limiting factor for reefs, and corals will fight hard to stake their claim. The filaments they use appear snotty and these battles can wage on for days or even weeks at a time.
While observing, I noticed a small fish that I believe was a type of blenny hiding in a hole in the sand. He repeatedly poked his head out and then retreated once he saw me. I tried multiple times to get a better look at him, but he was too shy to let me get close. He was mostly pale white with a bright blue tail, but unfortunately I haven’t been able to accurately identify him.
Our last cool find was a candy cane shrimp hiding on the bottom side of a small rock. I think he’s the first shrimp we have seen. Sadly we weren’t able to find any lobsters. My dad brought his spear in case we spotted one, but with the horde of cruisers in the area they’re few and far between. I guess we’ll have to settle for crawfish and andouille sausage gumbo for dinner instead. I swear there’s nothing that our instapot can’t do.
Dinner and a show
Jan 27, 2024
This morning we woke up with nothing but blue sky visible through our hatch. Once we were up it was time to move again. Today was the longest travel day we have had since getting to the Exumas and we’ll only be under way for about two hours. After some careful consideration and changing our minds three or four times, we decided to skip past Little Farmers Cay.
As the name suggests the island is tiny and, while they do have a grocery store, they usually have even less provisions than Black Point. The weather forecast is constantly changing our plans. We have now chosen to move down to Rudder Cut Cay to stage for a jump to George Town. There we should have no problem finding all of the veggies and other supplies we need.
The scenery on our drive was some of my favorite so far. Once we passed Little Farmers Cay, our route narrowed significantly and turned us toward the ocean. We ended up sandwiched between small cays with the ocean waves crashing against islands on our left. I felt like we were searching for King Kong on Skull Island. We passed a beautiful piece of land jutting into the air appropriately named High Cay and right beside it was a spit of barren rocky land that barely broke the surface. I affectionately named it Low Cay.
High Cay (left), Cave Cay (right), and ‘low cay’ (middle)
We passed by a deep ocean cut and our path led us right up against Musha Cay. It’s a seven-hundred acre private island owned by the illusionist David Copperfield. It’s one of several cays in the area that he purchased in the early 2000’s. In a not-selfish-at-all move he renamed the western bay after himself and created an exclusive resort on the island that costs upwards of forty grand a night. Emphasis on exclusive.
He states on his website that all of the magic and joy he has found in life has been recreated on the island. I’m sure it would be a crazy experience to stay there, but I found a free Youtube video walkthrough that seems much more economical. There are also claims of private waves, sun, and moonlight. Now I may be mistaken because I’m not a member of the “wealthy individuals” club, but I don’t think there are any exclusive rights to those things.
We drove right through the “private” waters
Once we passed the island our chartplotter showed a small stretch of shallow water; thankfully we arrived at high tide and never got into any trouble. The anchorage we planned on using runs along the western edge of Rudder Cut Cay, and was full of other boats. Apparently we aren’t the only ones headed for George Town. We inspected the area and decided to try our luck anchoring elsewhere. The options in the area aren’t abundant, but it would be nice to be somewhat private.
My dad and I inspected our charts and chose a new spot that we hoped would be good protection for the upcoming winds. I weaved through the anchored boats and drove us to the northern shore of Darby Island. The area had perfect protection from the southbound waves and was completely unoccupied. We should have known something was off. I swapped spots with my dad and went to drop the anchor. The bottom appeared sandy, but when we tried to set the hook our chain vibrated and bounced, obviously not setting correctly. Now we understood why no one else was there: the bottom was too hard to set anchor.
Searching for a better anchorage
Reluctantly we hauled the chain back in and headed to join the herd. There was plenty of room for us to squeeze in but the spot offered little to no protection from the waves. Unfortunately there’s nowhere else nearby to anchor so we just have to grin and bear it. Tomorrow is supposed to be much calmer so hopefully the rocking will be short-lived. For today I think the waves successfully deterred us from using the skiff which would have been a very wet bumpy ride. Instead we relaxed in the sun on the bow of the boat and participated in watching the marine circus.
Arriving early left us plenty of time to observe the antics of other boats as they trickled in. The majority of them operated like us: choose the spot, drop the hook, call it good. Pretty simple right? However there always has to be that one boat that makes everyone else nervous. Today it was a yellow catamaran. Jules and I watched as they came in from the ocean. The captain drove through the city of boats for at least fifteen minutes looking for an ideal spot to drop anchor.
We made sure to distance ourselves from the cluster
We saw something large flapping around on their bow and thought they might’ve had a problem putting away one of their sails. This was definitely something they could’ve handled after parking, but instead they kept driving trying to fix the sail and avoid the boats at the same time. The woman on the front repeatedly gestured toward the driver and slowly grew more and more animated. She walked back and forth from bow to stern multiple times but at no point did they attempt to drop anchor. Our main concern was that they were going to park near us; each time they neared our boat we tensed up hoping they would keep their distance.
In the time they were fumbling around, two other boats arrived and staked claim. When they finally decided to drop their anchor they ended up right beside another catamaran; so close they were able to have a normal conversation from boat to boat. That’s way too close for comfort if you ask me. My dad would have been out there making snarky comments like “there’s a whole ocean to choose from and you parked right there?” We were just happy they parked far away from us. They did end up providing good entertainment for a little while though.
By the time boats stopped arriving, we were again one of two motor boats in a huge cluster of sailing vessels. It continues to surprise me that we’re always the odd ones out. Sailing just seems like such a hassle to me, though I’m sure they get much better gas mileage.
Jan 28, 2024
This morning we lost the majority of our neighbors. The winds calmed down overnight and they decided to take advantage and head to George Town. Having just arrived yesterday, we still had some sights we would like to explore. We also weren’t complaining about the increase in elbow room.
Apparently David Copperfield commissioned a sunken statue of a piano with a mermaid nearby and my parents missed it on their first trip. The recommendation is to snorkel it at slack tide as the current can be very strong and it’s pretty deep. This morning the tide was high at 9:45 so we loaded up in the skiff around 9:15 and headed out. Unfortunately, the waves didn’t follow suit with the wind so the ride was somewhat uncomfortable, but we refused to be discouraged two days in a row.
We noticed a small cave from the water and my dad drove us across the channel into its wide mouth. It was basically a miniature version of the Rocky Dundas caves, there was even a small skylight at the top. We stopped in for a brief look before continuing on to try and locate the piano. Yesterday we watched multiple skiffs from other boats congregate in one spot at low tide late in the afternoon. Now I may be crazy, but I bet that’s where the statue is.
The colorful cave ceiling and skylight
We cruised over the top of the area peering down into the water. The ripples made it difficult to distinguish anything under the surface, but soon my dad spotted a strange shape on the bottom. We dropped the anchor and hopped in. Sure enough it was the sunken piano. The large metal sculpture rested on the sand bottom about fifteen feet under the water’s surface. Some small pieces of coral and sponges have begun to colonize the new hard surfaces and a few reef fish had gathered beneath it. I took a couple big breaths and dove down to get a closer look.
Rather than playing the piano the mermaid is laying beside it with her head resting on the bench as if she is waiting to hear someone play. In an attempt to indulge her, I swam down and took a seat at the bench, however the keys weren’t playable. Probably for the best, I never was a very good musician.
My attempt to serenade the steel mermaid
About the time I sat down I noticed my dad waving at me from the surface, he gave me the hand signal for a lionfish and pointed under the statue right where my feet were. Immediately I vacated the area and returned to the surface. I’ve seen what a lionfish sting can do to someone and while it’s not usually fatal, the swelling and pain are deterrent enough.
Sadly the area surrounding the sculpture was pretty boring and it didn’t take long before we were ready to see something else. Jules and I both dove down again to take one more look and then loaded back up in the skiff. After rounding a corner we found a narrow channel leading into the center of the island.
The route led us into a sheltered, shallow bay lined with mangroves. There were a couple of derelict houses encroached by plants, the remnants of a crumbling sea wall, and a skinny unkempt road. I don’t think anyone has lived there for a long time. We made a circle in the small cove and headed back out to look for a snorkel spot.
The waves continued to beat us up in the skiff and we decided to try our luck for some lobster along the iron shore wall. I dropped the anchor and we hopped in. The water was shallow to the point where I could all but stand up and we swam over to inspect the wall. Usually the erosion creates tons of holes and crevasses for things to hide in, but they seemed to be lacking here.
Shortly after we started my dad announced that he had located a lobster. My mom had a net and a stick with her to get it out of the hole and, after a comical few minutes of splashing around, managed to nab the lobster in her net.
Jules and I followed her as she swam over to drop it in the skiff. We thought it was too tiny so I picked it up and put him back in the water. We encouraged him to swim back towards the wall but he looked a bit lost so Jules picked him up again and swam him all the way back to where my mom had struggled to catch him just moments before.
Remember, everything looks bigger underwater
The four of us then returned to the Altitude Adjustment and promptly moved to a new spot. The wind is predicted to switch directions overnight and we would like to be prepared. We joined two catamarans that were tucked in close to the iron shore nearby. Our afternoon was then spent sunbathing while we waited for low tide around four.
My dad found some information regarding a sandbar that is covered in sand dollars and we set off in hopes of striking it rich. The first area we stopped at wasn’t what we expected. We found a shallow cove that was slowly being exposed by the receding tide and started exploring. The bottom appeared to be soft fine sand but instead felt like a sticky gritty clay beneath our feet. It was really funky.
The whole area was pretty desolate
We walked around the area for a short time and after finding zero sand dollars decided to try our luck elsewhere. Just north of us we could see a huge field of shallow sand still covered in about two feet of water. We headed to check it out and nearly got stuck on the way. All of us had flashbacks to our theatrics in Hurricane Harbor and having to drag the skiff across the sandbar.
We all hopped out, grabbed a handle, and started pulling. Luckily it didn’t take long to find deeper water and we were off again. Once we reached our destination beside Jimmy Cay I dropped the anchor and we started wading across the sand.
The whole area was about the size of a football field and sure enough there were sand dollars everywhere. Pure white slivers peeked out of the sand all around us and my mom collected all she could get her hands on. Now we just need to find a beach bar that will accept them as currency.
Don’t spend them all in one place
My mom also found a huge Sea Biscuit which are a different species of sand dollar that aren’t flat, but rather appear as bulbous and hollow. They also have a sandpaper-like exterior and are extremely fragile. We returned to the boat with our bounty, made cocktails, and watched the sunset.