Hop, Skip, and a Jump
Dec 29, 2023
This morning I decided it was time for a real breakfast. I’ve been fairly content with the bagels and cereal, but we have green chili in the fridge from a couple of nights ago and corn tortillas so it’s time for huevos rancheros! Once again I utilized the pancake griddle, I’m starting to realize the potential it has. Instead of three pans I only used one. I rocked out eggs, hash browns, and bacon, then proceeded to smother it in green and red chili with melted cheese on top. Breakfast was served.
I think this boat was built for dwarves
After breakfast, we took a walk to the grocery store. On Bimini there are two main roads: Kings Highway and Queens Highway. Calling either a two-lane road would be a stretch. We decided to take Queens, it has less traffic and follows the ocean. The waves crashing on the beach were, again, ridiculous. Needless to say, there wasn’t anyone in the water.
On our way to the store, we passed the Dolphin House. Built by Ashley Saunders completely from recycled material he collected on the island, it stands three stories tall and has a lighthouse on the roof. The entire outside is an amazing mosaic of tile, shells, and glass. Ashley gives tours to anyone interested. There is a uniqueness like no other that envelopes the whole building.
The beautiful exterior of the Dolphin House; photo by owner, Dolphin House Museum
Ashley is a Bimini local and wrote the first ever History of Bimini books. He was a school teacher on the island for thirty years and said “we didn’t have a history book, so I wrote one.” Mr. Saunders is a well-respected author, the President of the Bimini Historical Society, and a graduate of the University of Wisconsin at Madison. He also completed some post-graduate work at Harvard and earned diplomas in Tourism Education.
In case you can’t tell, we think pretty highly of him. We planned on seeing him when we arrived, but he fell and hurt himself a few weeks ago and is still recovering. From all of us here on the Altitude Adjustment, get well soon Ashley, Bimini isn’t the same without you!! The Dolphin House is a must-see for anyone vacationing on Bimini, you won’t regret it.
A small glimpse inside
We eventually made our way to the grocery store. The supply ship arrives on Thursday so Friday morning is the time to go shopping. When we arrived, the store was so filled with boxes and people that only my mom went inside. The grocery stores here are vastly different from the U.S. Not only are they closer in size to a convenience store, but the items fluctuate constantly so you never know what they’ll have.
The vegetables are typically good quality and fairly priced, but any meats brought over are frozen because they arrive by ship and are generally marked up. I recommend checking the expiration date on anything you pick up. Any cosmetics or toiletries are generally pricey as well. Hence, our spending spree at Costco and Sam’s Club.
Just across the street from the grocery store
Once we got back to the boat, Jules and I decided it was time to paddle board. Almost immediately after we got in the water a small shark swam right underneath us. I promise we were more interested in him than he was in us.
Jules and I paddled across the marina channel into the sand flats. The water under us was so shallow at times that we caught the fin under our boards in the sand. It was a killer perspective to have! Standing on the boards we were able to float right over the top of some southern stingrays. A juvenile lemon shark honed its hunting skills on the small fish harbored in the mangrove roots. Birds of all kinds call the mangroves home as well. The twisted, gnarled maze is an unrivaled sanctuary.
Paddleboarding in the mangroves near Bimini
Mangroves are some of the hardest working trees on the planet. They function as an amazing nursery for a multitude of marine species, create protection from erosion during storm surges, and, by using their explorative roots, aggregate soils to build islands.
When we got back to the boat, we took our time getting out and made a circle in the marina. We stood up just in time to see two more sharks meandering through. They dwarfed the juvenile we saw on the flats. My estimate is about five feet long each, but everything looks bigger underwater.
With all of the animals flourishing in the marina, I thought better care would be taken to prevent contaminating the environment. Apparently I am wrong. Our neighbors at the marina are from Miami and ended up staying in Bimini a night or so due to bad weather. They seemed like nice enough people, but to our surprise when they departed their trash was left just laying on the dock.
We must work together to preserve this
There are signs everywhere pointing to the trash receptacles, they’re only about twenty feet from where they parked. Needless to say, we were upset. All it would take is one gust of wind and their entire trash bag would have been in the water. It baffles me how careless people can be, but don’t worry, I went ahead and cleaned up after them. When they left the waves were pretty large, I hope they enjoyed their rough ride back to Miami.
Dec 30, 2023
This morning the seas layed down and the wind calmed, time to keep moving. Before we departed, Julia used the dock to replant our veggies since some of them seemed unhappy. The basil and pepper plants seem fine but the salty air has been harsh on our lettuce and cilantro.
Jules will use anything for a pot
When leaving the marina we put on an absolute clinic. We unhooked from water and power, untied our lines, and maneuvered away from the dock. The four of us operated like a well-oiled machine. My dad drove us out of the harbor and Bimini shrank into the distance.
Heading for new territory
We have yet to catch any fish worth eating so the hopes are high today. We rigged up some enticing lures and, as soon as we hit deeper water, the hunt was on. The sweet spot is right along the shelf, or as they say in Finding Nemo: “the drop off”. Near Bimini, the drop off isn’t far offshore which makes fishing much more convenient than many other places. In parts of Florida the shelf is over fifty miles offshore, here it is less than one. We find the sweet spot using our depth gages and look for the moment that one-hundred feet jumps to around three-hundred.
Retracing our steps is easy using our breadcrumbs (bold dashed lines)
The sport fish we are after are mahi mahi, wahoo, or any kind of tuna, but beggars can’t be choosers. The method we use is called trolling, it’s a simple concept: drag lures behind the boat and the momentum generates action from the bait. There are so many opinions on the correct way to troll and they vary widely around many factors: what type of fish are you after, what lure are you pulling, where are you fishing, is it fresh or saltwater? The list goes on.
We fish at the same speed we travel which is about seven knots. Some fisherman claim we go way too slow, yet my parents have been quite successful at this speed in the past. Like I said, it’s all just opinions.
A variety of baits that we use when trolling
I feel like the most important factor to have on your side is luck. You can have the best equipment, location, and knowledge, but if the fish aren’t there it doesn’t matter one bit. I’ve seen inexperienced anglers catch extraordinary fish before, luck was about all they had.
Unfortunately we only caught one fish, it was a barracuda and we don’t eat those. They aren’t bad to eat flavor-wise, but they do contain a bacteria that causes sickness when consumed in excess. Naturally we try to avoid that.
At least we didn’t get skunked
Fish isn’t on the menu tonight but hopefully will be soon. Our anchorage is on the east side of North Cat Cay. It is a private island community and only members can go ashore; talk about some high-dollar real estate. They have a nine-hole golf course, an airport, and don’t get me started on the mega-yachts in the marina again.
We went ahead and parked right in their backyard. This time I trained on how to drive while setting anchor. I have done it once or twice in previous visits but a refresher was definitely necessary. Communication is the key component. From the pilot house it is hard to tell exactly where the anchor will fall, so I drove into the general area and my mom called out that we were in a good spot. She and Julia dropped the anchor using the windlass as I threw us into reverse to back away from the anchor.
The windlass (winch) that drops and retrieves our anchor
They continued to let out the chain until we hit the one-hundred foot mark and then locked it down. The momentum of the boat continued backwards and pulled the chain tight. It hooked correctly, the boat stopped and the wind swung us around - success!
In my experience we are typically successful on the first try, but we had one instance in Hurricane Harbor where we failed to hook and it was pretty obvious. The chain started to vibrate strangely and the boat continued moving long after it should have stopped. We hauled in the anchor, repositioned, and dropped it again. If the ground is dense it won’t allow the anchor to dig in, or the chain can wrap around the anchor initially and foul it. Luckily we didn’t have to worry about it this time.
Some killer afterglow from the sunset
Dec 31, 2023
The hunger for fresh fish is reaching a boiling point on this boat. After waking up, we wasted very little time before getting the rods in the water. We trolled north a few miles without any luck, eventually we turned around and that’s when it happened. My mom and I were sitting in the cockpit watching the rods, one second everything was normal and the next was chaos.
Only moments before mayhem
The smaller of our three rods suddenly bent over with the drag screaming to announce that a fish was on. We yelled in unison to let my dad know to slow down and I started bringing in the fish. The rod in question was on the right corner of the cockpit and immediately the fish swam hard to the left. It managed to get wrapped around one of the other lines that was out and I cringed at the potential rats’ nest.
My mom was reeling in one of the other rods to get it out of the way and suddenly she had a fish on too. At that moment I was both excited and scared. It’s a hassle managing one rod with a fish, much less two. The fish crossed over each other behind the boat and we inched closer to disaster. I was scared that we could lose both of the fish, but I never quit reeling.
As it neared the back of the boat we saw the bright yellow and green of a mahi mahi break the surface. I brought the fish in close and my dad gaffed it. The gaff is a long pole with a large sharp hook that’s used to impale the fish and hoist it aboard. He then moved over to get my mom’s fish while I attempted to subdue mine. In the commotion, my line rubbed something sharp and broke. Luckily we already had the fish in the boat. She brought hers in close - BOOM my dad hit his mark again and the fish was brought in.
Landing fish is a group effort
Now we had two mahi-mahi going crazy on the deck, it looked like Freddy Krueger’s basement. Between the fish bleeding from their mouths and the holes from the gaff they repainted most of the cockpit. Miraculously, we managed to land both fish and keep the lures even with a broken line.
Fresh mahi-mahi is on the menu
We continued to fish in hopes of adding to our haul but eventually hunger got the better of us and we headed back to North Cat Cay to clean fish and make lunch. My dad butchered, I cleaned the filets, Jules lit the grill, and my mom cut veggies and made tartar sauce. The timing came together beautifully and we had ourselves some killer mahi sandwiches.
Catching fish early left us an open afternoon, time to go snorkeling. We rounded up the masks, snorkels, and fins along with chairs, beers, and wetsuits. With all of the gear and the four of us, the skiff was overflowing. We made our way to Gun Cay and staked a claim on a part of the beach.
A sand dollar skeleton, or “test”, I found while snorkeling
After exploring for a short time, Jules and I donned our gear and hit the water. It had been far too long, we were so happy to see our fish friends again. The water was cooler than anticipated but what can you expect when snorkeling in January?
Jules and I swam along the shoreline over the seagrass beds waving our hellos. Tiny reef fish hid in any structure they could find, juvenile barracuda patrolled the waters at the edge of our vision, and schools of yellow-barred grunts darted anxiously in the shallows. Eventually, the cold set in and we turned around. Jules had a wetsuit but I didn’t and I sorely missed it.
I was coated in goosebumps from head to toe
On our way back a southern stingray swam right beside us. The motion they make when swimming is so fluid, it was a treat to witness. We returned to the beach to photosynthesize and restore some body heat. Once adequately dry, we headed back to the boat for a fresh fish dinner.
Jan 1, 2024
This new year was unique to say the least. We all set our alarms for midnight and woke up to see a killer fireworks show. The fancy private island community we anchored near shot off some huge mortars from their airport runway. I’m sure glad I didn’t have to buy a multimillion-dollar home to see it.
The entire first day of our new year we traveled. We woke up early, before the sun came up kind of early. The anchor was hauled in and we left North Cat Cay. In front of us is nothing but blue. The water is only ten feet deep but it stretches for miles. The only land in sight grew smaller and smaller on the horizon behind us.
Our first sunrise of the new year
Our plan is to go about fifty miles across the Great Bahama Bank and anchor near the Northwest Channel. We will spend the night there and then make the crossing to Nassau tomorrow. Spending the night out on the bank means there is no cover from any weather. Luckily, we should have a very calm night ahead of us.
The Great Bahama Bank stretches about three hundred miles from north to south and about fifty miles east to west. It is composed of coral limestone that is nearly three miles thick. The water is clear and shallow but there are no fish in sight. Occasional plants litter the bottom and we have seen a few man o’ wars casually floating by, but that’s it. After some debating and consideration we picked a spot to spend the night. It looks exactly like every other spot because there aren’t any landmarks.
This feels like a massive aquatic desert
We couldn’t have asked for better weather to travel, the whole day was calm and hot. After we parked, Jules was in the water fast. She donned her mask, snorkel, and fins and took the plunge, I followed shortly after. There is a weird feeling I get from being in the ocean with no land in sight. Thank God the boat was there. I just felt uneasy, like something was watching me, or stalking me. It’s hard to get completely comfortable. Having other people around diminishes the feeling, but I don’t know if it’s ever truly gone. Safety in numbers right?
Jules floating in the infinite swimming pool
The main perk to spending the night out on the bank is the stars. There isn’t any city light polluting the view and the sky is amazing. We shut off the lights on the boat and inky darkness set in. You definitely don’t get a view like this from Denver.
Jan 2, 2024
Once again we were up before the sun showed itself. I think the bank is one of the craziest places I’ve ever spent the night. The Great Barrier Reef is still at the top of the list though. Very shortly after pulling anchor we left the serenity of the Great Bahama Bank and ventured into the Tongue of the Ocean, a basin of extremely deep water that separates Andros and New Providence.
We made our way through the Northwest Channel out into deeper water. So far, our cuts into the ocean have all been narrow, but the Northwest Channel is about half a mile wide. My dad has been told that this area is killer fishing so we rigged up the poles and got them in the water as soon as we made it through.
Ready to snag a monster!
This time the shelf was even more dramatic than in Bimini. Our depth finder jumped from around one-hundred feet to over eight-hundred in the blink of an eye. I wonder what this place would look like without water. I am imagining a breathtaking valley lined with incredibly sheer cliffs, the immense mountains towering miles into the air from the canyon floor.
Bathymetry lines ranging from over 1400 feet (left) to only 13 feet (right)
Again we pulled our lures along the edge of the shelf and almost immediately we had a fish on. I hopped on the reel and brought it in close. It was another barracuda. I grabbed the pliers, got the hook out, and we sent him back to the depths. Now it’s time to catch a real fish, we sent the lures back out and the waiting game continued.
After dragging them for a while with no action we checked the baits. Unfortunately for us, two of our lines had intersected. Calling it a mess would be an understatement, the lines were so twisted together it was a nightmare. We lost valuable fishing time untangling the rat’s nest.
Hard to catch fish without the lines in the water
We turned our course east and headed for Nassau, almost immediately our depth gauge maxed out and started flashing. Our charts show depths of over sixty-five hundred feet in the Tongue of the Ocean, it really makes me feel insignificant. If the security of the boat suddenly disappeared the terror would be immeasurable.
I guess that says something about our species’ innate sense of adventure and curiosity. We are willing to risk being completely at the mercy of the most brutal beast on the planet, the ocean. Right alongside my fear is an excitement that is hard to put into words, but there is nowhere else I’d rather be.
She takes her job very seriously
I starred in an episode of our new hit series Extreme Cooks today. I made breakfast for four while tossing around in the ocean with no land in sight. The eggs on the griddle looked like hockey pucks sliding around an ice rink. Believe it or not I didn’t spill a drop. The huevos rancheros made an appearance again and they were killer.
Nassau appeared on the horizon just in time. The waves in the Tongue of the Ocean had grown tremendously since our departure. The conditions weren’t as extreme as our first crossing, but we were thrilled to park before they reached that level. We hooked another small barracuda just before entering Clifton Bay, but nothing worth eating.
Nassua coming into view on the horizon
We anchored alongside some sailboats and ended up once again adjacent to the waves. Large rolling swells approached from the west and the wind held us north to south. The rocking is severe enough that the handrails are a must even on anchor. Jules has been battling her sea sickness all day and just because the engines are off doesn’t mean we’ve stopped moving.
Unfortunately there aren’t any other options for us to stay the night, she’s pulling through like a trooper though. Keeping her on a hefty dose of Dramamine doesn’t hurt either. Supposedly the wind will shift direction around midnight and the rocking should subside, but we still have trust issues after the Florida crossing.
At least we got a beautiful sunset
Jan 3, 2024
I am beginning to hear our windlass in my nightmares. The loud winch rang through the morning air directly over our heads once again. Originally our plan was to spend the day on the beach in Nassau, but just like the weather, our plan changed again. Sounds like another long day of travel ahead of us. Hopefully it will be the last for a while.
Leaving the factories behind
By this afternoon we plan to be at the northern tip of the Exumas. The cluster of nearly four-hundred islands is a cruiser’s paradise. Good anchorages coupled with clear blue water and deep ocean access for fishing make it a popular destination. But first we have to get there.
Everyone says it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey. In this case, I respectfully disagree. Traveling on the boat is leisurely but boring. For the majority of the day we will be on the Great Bahama Bank so there’s no fishing to do. The autopilot steers the boat, our chartplotter handles the navigation, and by the time we arrive at our destination we’re all ready for bed.
The only difference today is that we need to watch for coral heads. These are tall, hard surfaces covered in coral that can reach up very near the surface of the water. Corals compete for space and sunlight against each other. They grow very slowly, but over time, create amazing structures. Structures that have the potential to tear the fiberglass of the Altitude Adjustment to shreds. Still it only takes one person to be a look out, and the coral is few and far between out here.
After a couple of hours, Nassau disappeared behind us. Our course is set for Allen’s Cay, there is an anchorage between it and Leaf Cay that my parents have used before. The small islands run in parallel to one another and have a nice channel between them that offers great protection from weather. Around the five-hour mark, land came into view, scattered islands barely visible on the horizon.
Our first glimpse of the Exumas
We all took turns peering through the binoculars. It would appear that we aren’t the only ones who plan to anchor at Allen’s Cay and we may not fit. My dad pulled the boat into neutral and we started working on a plan B. The cluster of islands offers multiple anchorages; some easier to reach than others.
Coral heads stand guard in the shallow water surrounding the islands so using the charts is a must. There are narrow channels of deep water that can grant us access, eventually, we decided on our route and began snaking through. I went out on the nose of the boat to watch for any coral or rock that may not be visible from the pilot house.
The unbelievably clear water makes it easy to spot coral heads
We inched our way along nervously, the chartplotter showed some areas as shallow as six feet and we require at least five. The anchorage we planned to use initially was full. We rounded the corner to see boats of all kinds packed in tight, even Brown Eyed Girl was squeezed in there. Captain Chris left Bimini before us and made it to the Exumas a few days ahead of our schedule.
Chris hailed us on the radio as we arrived
Our target then became the northern end of Highborne Cay, luckily, it’s only about half a mile south. My dad urged the boat slowly through the water and after a puckered up few minutes we arrived. Jurassic Park theme music played in my head as I stepped onto the bow. This is where the sights start getting juicy. Highborne Cay is a massive privately owned island and remains largely undeveloped. The dense foliage and dramatic views give it a wildly untame feeling. We dropped anchor and prepared to explore the Exumas.
It’s just starting to get juicy