Captain's Log

Help Thy Neighbor

Fri, 09 Feb 2024 00:00:00 -0500

This morning while listening to the cruiser net, my dad tried to get some information regarding a rental car or taxi. We figure if the weather is going to be too crummy for us to want to be in the water, maybe we should try and explore the land.

He called a couple different services to show us around for a day. Having some local knowledge to help guide us around the island definitely sounds like a plus. However the rental car places we contacted didn’t have any cars available or didn’t answer the phone. I guess we’re going with a taxi.

Someone on the cruiser net provided him with a phone number to a guy who ran a taxi service. My dad called him and quickly came to the conclusion that he wanted too much money. Now the plan has evolved to possibly getting a rental car when we reach Long Island; yes there is one in the Bahamas too. My parents were able to do it last time they visited and already know many of the attractions on the island including Dean’s Blue Hole. It is the second deepest blue hole on earth so Jules and I are definitely looking forward to that.

The wind from yesterday has calmed down slightly and we used the opportunity to head into town. As usual, we need more vegetables and my dad wanted to stop at the hardware store. The water was far from flat when we took off and instantly we started getting wet. It didn’t take long before my dad was more wet than dry and I think we all started questioning our decision. The moderate breeze coupled with the lack of sunlight and constant spray over the bow was brutal.

Eventually the safety of Lake Victoria came into view and the torment subsided. The next step of the adventure was to find a spot to park. The dingy dock was fully encumbered with other skiffs to the point where some people had begun tying to the back of others’ boats and crawling across them. My dad drove us around the back side and miraculously someone was leaving as we approached. We happily traded places with them.

Cruiser traffic jam

After tying off we headed to the Exuma Tourism Office. Our hope was to find a map of the area with some points of interest on it, but sadly we ended up with a brochure filled with advertisements. Maybe there just isn’t all that much to do around here. Feeling semi-discouraged, we headed to the grocery store. They had apparently just received some supplies as the vegetables looked beautiful and fresh. We also snagged two more big bags of chicken to help supplement our remaining frozen items.

Next it was time for some lunch. We headed out and ended up at the Sandpiper Cafe. Right outside Jules and I met a young local artist named Emmanual who was selling some custom prints and paintings. He explained to us that he had lived on a few of the Bahamian islands and this was his favorite. It was super refreshing to talk to someone in our age group for a change. There was an awesome mural on the wall behind him that he had created for the cafe and he told Jules and I that he had done several around the island.

He did eveything but the logo with spraypaint

Eager for a new project, Jules offered to try and create a map for him that would guide people around to see his work. He was very interested and wanted to hear all about how she had gotten into making maps. They traded some information and we purchased one of his prints before going inside to have lunch.

Jules is always networking

The cafe had the normal conch and fish items, but I was more interested in the tikka masala. I am a huge fan of Indian cuisine and didn’t realize how much I was missing it until I saw it on the menu. It wasn’t the best I have ever tried, but for an Indian dish on a Bahamian Island it was killer. I even finished my mom’s portion.

After lunch, we divided and conquered our final errands. My dad went to the hardware store, Jules and I went to restock on rum, and my mom went to the other grocery store to try and find the remaining items on her list. I think in the end we were all successful. It took every square inch of backpack and tote bags we brought to carry it but luckily the skiff wasn’t far. We loaded our haul into the small boat and headed back out into the harbor. Naturally the wind and waves had intensified while we shopped and we ended up even more wet on the way home. Don’t worry, the groceries were fine; our bodies shielded them from the icy spray.

Feb 10, 2024

While going through the new-found morning routine of listening to the cruiser net, a familiar voice chimed in. It was Captain Chris of Brown Eyed Girl. He arrived in George Town yesterday. We also heard there was going to be a free cruiser concert that afternoon. Apparently there are quite a few musicians spread across the multitude of boats.

My mom was still feeling under the weather when she woke up so Jules, my dad, and I went into town for some more groceries. This time Jules drove. It was a little touch and go to start, but her confidence is slowly growing. She just needs some more practice and she’ll be a pro in no time. It’s a big difference from driving the big boat; she’s never operated an engine with a tiller rather than a wheel for steering.

I think we were all a little nervous

The general rule is turn the arm in the opposite direction of where you want to go. It takes some getting used to for sure. Once we made it to Lake Victoria my dad took over to park and then we headed for the farmers market. It was somewhat lackluster the first time we went and we hoped that arriving closer to when it started would yield better results. Sadly that was not the case.

There were again two stalls of people, but this time there were some fresh eggs available. I opened the carton to check the eggs and found that one of them was huge. I commented to the seller that I’d like to see the chicken that egg came out of and he absolutely cracked up laughing. We bought three dozen before heading to the grocery store to try and find the remaining items on our list.

Scrounging for vegetables

It’s been an interesting transition from shopping in the U.S. We have adopted an “if you see it and want it, buy it” mindset because you don’t know if you’ll ever see it again. If I operated that way in Colorado, it would drain my bank account rapidly. After making three stops in total, we crossed off four of the six items on our list.

As we were leaving town in the skiff, I noticed Chris tying up at the dock. We stopped and chatted with him briefly. He said he was going to attend the concert this afternoon so we told him we would meet him over there.

Leaving Lake Victoria under the bridge was much more difficult than entering. The tide had begun rushing out of the small opening while waves rolled in from the harbor. The two forces were battling it out creating some large, inconsistent swells that bashed us up pretty good. Jules had to hold the eggs up off of the floor to keep them safe.

When we got back to the boat, my mom was feeling much better. I’m not sure if it was just the Tylenol talking but the difference was night and day. We threw together a quick lunch before packing up to head for the concert. With no real idea of what we were getting ourselves into we packed up four chairs, beers, and cocktails. You can never be too prepared right?

The waves in Elizabeth Harbor were much larger than what we prefer to take on in the skiff. In hopes of making it a little smoother for us my dad drove us through the back way as if we were going to town and then made a beeline across the harbor to the opposite side. The second we left the protection of the shore, the magnitude of the waves amplified massively. We pitched and rolled back and forth like the Altitude Adjustment on our crossing from Florida. Luckily it was short-lived.

Now we had to locate Hurricane Hole Number One and the band which was playing on the roof of a houseboat. We drove through a densely packed anchorage with boats everywhere, rounded the corner, and discovered a horde of skiffs. They lined every inch of beach and dozens of them floated on anchor or attached to mooring balls. I think we found the party.

We didn’t even try squeezing onto the beach

There was a large group rafted together and we asked to join. In total, I think there were eight skiffs tied to one mooring ball and not a single one of us was the owner. There was a huge crowd gathered on the beach and on the far side we could see a houseboat parked with a band squeezed onto the roof. There was someone playing a keyboard, one trombone player, and about half a dozen guitars.

We relaxed in the skiff with our drinks and listened to them play all manner of island-themed music, particularly Jimmy Buffet. I expected nothing less. It couldn’t have been much nicer in that little cove, the sun beat down to the point where I had to get in the water to cool off.

Feeling like a cheeseburger in paradise

While we listened I saw Chris pull in and we invited him to join our cluster. There was a very nice couple from Seattle, Mark and Stacey, that we met as well and after the concert Chris invited the two of them and us back to his boat for happy hour. We formed a disorderly line and followed him back to the Brown Eyed Girl just a few minutes away.

Once we got tied up and climbed aboard the first thing I noticed was how nice the wooden deck felt under my feet; Jules mentioned it too. It was so soft and smooth everywhere we walked. The interior layout of his boat was actually pretty similar to the Altitude Adjustment. There was a fore and aft stateroom both with their own bathroom, a nice comfortable salon area in the center and his kitchen was larger than ours. I was surprised at how spacious it felt seeing as how Brown Eyed Girl is about six feet shorter than Altitude Adjustment.

Chris went down into the galley and in no time had mixed up some rum punches. He gave fair warning that they were dangerous and, after two, I can confirm the validity of that statement. We all went to the roof to hang out and chat, swapping stories about our trip so far and reminiscing about covid times.

We really like the wood decks

Eventually the sun crept low on the horizon and Mark and Stacey took off back to their boat. Rather than endure the rough ride across the harbor, Chris offered to tow our skiff across with his boat. He was hoping for some assistance navigating to Red Shanks and hooking up to a mooring ball.

Racing to get hooked up before dark

Chris hauled in the anchor and we guided him into the cove. I used his boat hook to grab the mooring ball and in no time had him secured. I can imagine it is much more difficult to get hooked up without any help. Finally we headed back to our boat and invited him over for some elk burgers and fries.

Feb 11, 2024

After having a couple of Chris’ rum punches yesterday I think Jules and I were both in need of a real breakfast. Not only did bacon and eggs just sound way too good, but having a piece of bread to absorb some alcohol was a must. After some slight debating I suggested fully-loaded avocado toast.

Now there is a big difference between avocado toast and fully-loaded avocado toast. Rather than just having toast with some green slapped on top of it she and I made crispy bacon and over-easy eggs to pile on. My dad was a bit skeptical at first but I think we’ve successfully changed his mind. It hit the spot so much better than a bowl of cereal.

My dad managed to get a hold of his friend Jack on the radio this morning after the cruiser net and set up a happy hour at four. My parents met Jack and his wife, Jackie, on their first trip through the Bahamas. At the time they were cruisers like my parents but have since opted to trade their boat for something a little more stable: a condo.

While waiting for happy hour to roll around we got set up to watch the superbowl. My mom started a free trial on Paramount Plus while my dad and I got signed in on the TV to make sure it would run smoothly when we got back. After having another lazy day due to the consistent fifteen knot winds it was finally time for happy hour.

We all hopped into the skiff with our drinks and some snacks my mom made. Being moored in Red Shanks left us only about five minutes away from Jack and Jackie’s condo. Jules again got to practice her driving skills in the skiff and is getting better all the time. Once we arrived in front of the condo, Jack came out and directed us into a narrow cut with a small dock inside to get parked. He then led us across the yard to a cute beach house.

Finally, some elbow room

We sat on the deck outside looking over the water and told them about our trip so far while they explained what it was like to live in George Town. They apparently have no need for a car and use bikes to go everywhere; sounds good to me. I went inside and used their bathroom at one point and it is hard to put into words how amazing it was to use a full-sized toilet. It had been far too long.

Jack was gracious enough to offer Jules and I some Yuengling beer which we happily accepted. We went through the couple of cases we bought in Florida very quickly. He even brought us a six pack when we started getting ready to leave. I see why my parents like these two so much. Jack then asked my dad for a ride to another one of their friends boats and he happily took the two of them towards town and dropped them off.

Great friends = Great times

Jules, my mom, and I waited at their condo while he gave them a ride and were greeted by a very sunburnt island cat. Initially he was wary of us, but after some gentle coaxing we gave him some scratches and made friends. Jules and I have been missing our animals badly.

Soon after my dad returned and we headed home to watch our yearly dose of football. It was a little touch and go with the streaming but it’s hard to complain when it’s free. The worst part is we lost connection right as they started overtime and couldn’t get it back. I don’t think our viewership would have helped San Francisco win anyways.

Feb 12, 2024

Sailboaters tend to prefer different conditions for travel than we do. Where we look for very calm beautiful days with small waves, they are searching for a sweet spot in the wind. Most sailors we have talked to aim for wind speeds in the mid to low teens. That of course means that they travel with whatever waves are present at that time.

This morning the seas were predicted to range anywhere from four to six feet and we didn’t even consider traveling. However the wind speeds were favorable enough to draw a few hardy sailors out into the deep blue.

While listening to the cruiser net one of the departing boats named Snow Problem radioed in a distress call. They relayed that their rudder had fallen off rendering them unable to steer their vessel; they were five or six miles offshore and in desperate need of a rescue. I can’t imagine how badly they were getting tossed around in those huge waves without the ability to steer into them.

We listened as a rescue party was assembled and dispatched. The organizer repeatedly attempted to raise the Royal Bahamian Defense Force which is their equivalent of the American Coast Guard, and never received any sort of reply. If I had any faith in the RBDF before it is certainly gone now. Instead, a few upstanding citizens rallied together and headed out to tow the sailboat back to George Town.

In what has become typical fashion the wind was stronger than predicted this morning. Initially we were all excited at the prospect of paddleboarding, but the ever-constant gusts rapidly discouraged that idea. After lunch, we headed to check out a different beach that my parents’ friend Jackie recommended.

The clouds didn’t last long and it got HOT

It is located on Crab Cay which she said she walks to from their condo all the time. Crab Cay is an island like many others in the Bahamas that began development into a town or resort but failed. This of course means that a group or individual owns the island and, in this case, don’t allow trespassing. Jackie told us she has never had anyone approach or say anything to her about needing to leave so we went ahead and rolled the dice ourselves. If someone shows up and tells us to leave I suppose we will do just that.

The beach was rather small with sand that resembled mud in the way it sank beneath our feet. Jules broke out the frisbee we found earlier in the trip and we all tossed it around for a short time before getting overheated. My mom strolled to one end of the beach and back while the rest of us waded into the water. Jules immediately made friends with the tiny fish that gathered around her ankles. She hypothesized that they were feeding on something in the sand that was suspended as we walked.

Everytime she moved more tiny fish appeared

After finding a couple of small shells and collecting another full bag of plastic, we vacated the beach and explored our way back to the boat. My dad drove us through some shallow channels of water nestled between small spits of land and eventually we appeared on the far side of the Red Shanks mooring field. Shortly after we got back to the boat, a group of people in a skiff recognized my dad and stopped to talk.

There were two couples in the dinghy that we had met all the way back at Warderick Wells. One couple owns a power boat named Mojo and the other two people were the owners of the sailboat Snow Problem that had lost their rudder this morning. Someone had successfully towed them back into Elizabeth Harbor and gotten them anchored nearby. Unfortunately for them they had been left out in the open with no protection whatsoever and were trying to see if they could possibly move into Red Shanks and get on a mooring ball.

They were hoping to find some help to tow them the short distance and get them situated. After a short discussion with us, and very little actual planning, we loaded up in the skiff and went to assist. I was somewhat skeptical at this point that we could do much to help as their sailboat is close to forty feet long and our skiff is barely over ten.

Luckily the engine and propeller on their boat worked fine so we just needed to steer. It was much easier said than done. My dad grabbed a yolk setup that we could attach to both sides of our skiff creating an even connection point. After securing it to the eyelets on either side of the stern, Captain George of Snow Problem handed us a rope that he had tied to his bow. We clipped on and began letting it out behind us.

Who thought this was a good idea?

At the same time, Captain John of Mojo secured a second line to his skiff from the opposite side of the sailboat. He and his wife started letting rope out behind them and promptly got it fouled around their prop. Luckily it was a fairly easy fix, but the wind and current in the middle of the harbor pushed him around the nose of the sailboat and into us. In his defense, it was a lot to try and keep track of while also maneuvering his skiff in the elements.

After a minute or two, he managed to free the rope from his prop and get reoriented in front of Snow Problem. Next we had to go ahead and pull the sailboat forward slowly so George could haul in his anchor. His wife Carmen operated the throttle and urged the boat forward until the anchor was brought up. Next came the fun part.

My dad and John both tugged on the front of the sailboat and began navigating it around the visible rocks guarding the entrance to Red Shanks. Thankfully there was plenty of room to make a nice wide turn around them because Snow Problem did just about everything but tow straight. George even hopped in his skiff and tried to reduce the swing by attaching himself to the stern of the boat. All he ended up doing was going for a wild ride and he got yanked forcefully from one side to the other while scrambling to try and offset the sway.

I’m sure the whole scene looked absolutely ridiculous. The rope attached to John’s skiff was longer than ours to prevent us from smacking together. That in turn meant that when the sailboat swung hard toward our side the rope attached to the other skiff nearly decapitated us. Jules was put in charge of catching the line as it came in our direction and holding it off us. She did great.

Keeping a watchful eye on the other rope

The entire time we were pulling, the sailboat was oscillating drastically. It would sway to one side, stop, and then sway back nearly one hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction. It was literal chaos. At one point, Carmen gave the boat some throttle and, coupled with John pulling hard on his side, we ended up getting into a rather precarious situation. Due to the angle of the rope tied to our skiff, my dad was unable to make a turn to get us back in front of Snow Problem. After about a minute of fighting, we ended up behind the sailboat and began getting towed backwards.

Initially it didn’t seem like too bad of a problem. However, the back wall of the skiff where the motor is lower than the bow and sides to allow the prop to be submerged. This means that it is the easiest place for water to begin filling the boat. The forward momentum of Snow Problem coupled with the opposing waves caused a moment of sheer panic as water cascaded into the bottom of our skiff. I immediately went to the front to try and reduce the weight in the stern and we all screamed in unison to let George know we had a serious problem.

Luckily the yolk we had attached to the tow rope was clipped with a carabiner, and George was able to reach it and quickly release us before we got swamped. Crisis averted. Keep in mind that we were only about halfway to the destination at this point. I snagged the end of the rope back from George and, once my dad had us situated back in front of the sailboat, I reattached us to the rope and we went back to towing.

Very gently, we turned the floating disaster behind us in toward the mooring field and my nerves started to boil. Until this point there was plenty of room for error as the channel was wide enough to accommodate the archaic carnival ride we had created. But once we made the turn, the rocky shoreline on either side of us tapered in towards Snow Problem and the stakes got much higher. We got super lucky that the first five or six mooring balls in the field were empty and we didn’t have to tow the sailboat past any other boats to reach their spot.

Slowly but surely we tugged the sailboat toward a mooring and, once it was in position, my dad unhooked their rope from us. He handed the end of it to me and I managed to slip it through the eyelet on the mooring ball. Now the challenge was getting enough of the rope fed through to be able to hand it back up to George who had just climbed out of his skiff and back onto his boat.

The momentum of Snow Problem coupled with the wind dragging it away from the ball caused me to have to hold the entire weight of the sailboat for some time before we could get the rope tied off. That definitely didn’t do any favors for my recovering shoulder, but I held strong regardless. At least now I can brag that I held an entire sailboat in place with my barehands.

Don’t worry guys, I got it

The second George had the rope secured to the cleat, I think everyone involved took a massive deep breath. Not only was the stressful part over and done with but now we could all stop shouting bloody murder at one another in an attempt to communicate. I’m worried we may all lose our voices.

George and Carmen thanked us up and down before sitting down to relax after what I am sure was an extremely taxing day. I can’t imagine the emotional roller coaster ride they endured. After completing our good-deed-of-the-day we returned to the Altitude Adjustment for dinner. Hopefully we will have good boating karma from here on out.

Hard to beat a killer afterglow

Feb 13, 2024

My hopes of a relaxing early morning paddleboard were dashed by the wind once again. The six knot prediction from Windfinder was inaccurate; I’m guessing it was closer to ten or twelve. We have officially decided to say goodbye to George Town tomorrow morning so my parents took one last trip into town.

They dropped off one last bag of trash and after making the rounds to the grocery stores and farmers market were still unable to find corn tortillas or arugula. I guess fish tacos are just too much to ask for. While they ran errands Jules and I tried our luck paddleboarding in the wind. Initially it didn’t seem too bad, but after creating some distance between us and the boat we realized it was going to be some work to get back.

It might just be my imagination, but I swear the gusts escalated right as we turned around. We battled our way across the mooring field to the northern shore in hopes of getting some shelter; it didn’t help much. Rather than taking our time and relaxing we had to dig hard with the paddles to gain any ground at all. The silver lining was that we procured another pool noodle and drink koozie while fighting the wind.

The sun beat down, and despite the constant gusts of wind, created a very hot day. It wasn’t long after my parents returned that the floaties were in the water. Luckily the water temperature had come up a few degrees in the last day or two and we were able to relax rather than shiver.

Talk about a very near miss

I grabbed the new pool noodle we found and jumped in to give it a test drive. It was actually big enough to support me, which is more than I can say for the one we already had. While we were relaxing, John from Mojo cruised by to go help George on Snow Problem try and move some very tight bolts. They needed to remove the shaft that held their rudder in order to take some measurements for a replacement. Again, it was easier said than done.

The shaft itself is about four inches in diameter and has some beefy bolts holding it in place. My dad grabbed a couple of his biggest wrenches and headed over to assist. He handed George the tools and after a combination of grunting, cursing, and moral support from my dad the bolt finally broke loose; our triumphant yells resonated through the cove. The only thing left for Snow Problem to do now is wait for the new part to arrive. Hopefully it doesn’t take too long.

Next the four of us headed to happy hour with Mark and Stacy on their boat One Life. They had joined us in Red Shanks this morning and graciously invited us over. We hung out in their cockpit and watched the sunset before heading home to make dinner. Of course I managed to leave Julia’s water bottle sitting on the deck and didn’t realize it was missing until the skiff was already put away and it was very dark. We couldn’t wait until the morning because the plan was to head for Long Island early. The next best option was to take a paddleboard over there and retrieve it.

Initially I was a little nervous to get on the board at night in the ocean, but the wind had all but ceased to exist and the water was absolutely glass. Jules accompanied me on the rescue mission and we took off into the inky black night equipped with a tiny flashlight and her phone light. After about ten seconds, we both realized how amazing it actually was.

I wonder whats lurking below the surface

It was so still we could see the stars reflecting on the water. We both stared up in awe at the cloudless sky and basked in the wonderful silence. The only audible sounds other than an occasional voice were our paddles gently breaking the water’s surface. I felt like we were on a stealth mission. I never even pulled out the flashlight. We took our time both going and coming to soak in the new-found activity. I honestly can’t wait for another still night like that to do it again. Just try not to let your imagination wander too far while floating on the dark waters.

Holding Fast in Red Shanks

Sat, 03 Feb 2024 00:00:00 -0500

This morning might have been even calmer than the last so Jules and I took off on the paddleboards. We followed a different route than the day before and were again greeted by a few tiny startled turtles as well as countless upside-down jellyfish.

This barracuda was lurking under the boat

We took our sweet time cruising along the shoreline and found a couple of treasures to bring back. Apparently the recent wind has blown some things from people boats and stranded them on the iron shore. The first was a neon green pool noodle we spotted floating against the rocks. I paddled over to it and secured it to the front of my board. Our other find was a styrofoam float for a crab pot attached to a length of yellow rope tangled in the iron shore. It took a little bit of convincing to break it out of the jagged rocks but after a short struggle I freed it and handed it to Jules to tie to her board. You never know what you might find out here.

The rest of the paddle was beautiful but not nearly as eventful as the day before. She and I soon returned to the boat where my parents were waiting. The cruiser net had informed them of a farmers market which warranted a trip into town. My dad also remembered a restaurant from their first trip that served a good, fairly priced burger so we figured we would stop for lunch as well.

We gathered up some cash and tote bags and headed out in the skiff. This time I drove. The motor on the skiff is much more powerful than the one on my small fishing boat, but otherwise it is the same concept. I twisted the throttle and we took off.

Red Shanks grants us easy access to a back route into town that is only passable in the skiff due to the depth of the water. I drove us past the blue hole we investigated a day or two ago and toward a large bridge, through the center arch and then took a right turn across a huge shallow sand bar and headed toward town. We drove through a field of moored boats and arrived in front of the small tunnel under the road. Once through, we parked at the dinghy dock, tied up, dropped off our trash, and then went to find the farmers market.

The familiar passage into town

We walked a short way through town and eventually stumbled across a couple of stalls. I think we may have been a little late to the party as there were only two stalls. Jules picked out a bottle of hot sauce (because we can never have enough hot sauce) and my mom purchased a bag of arugula.

Feeling slightly disappointed in the selection, we headed to try our luck at the grocery store. We decided to try a different one than the last time in hopes that we could find some better prices. The store we went to on our first visit is located right next to the skiff dock and we were worried they may upcharge because of the convenience for cruisers.

The other store we found appeared to have more local traffic, but the prices were still high. Some things were actually more expensive. The store was small with narrow aisles and lots of people. The four of us squeezed through checking off some of the items on our list and trying not to plow anyone over. None of us are particularly large people and neither was anyone else in the store, but man those were some skinny walkways.

It reminded me of shopping in Bimini

After shopping on an empty stomach we set out in search of food. The restaurant my dad had in mind was on the other side of Lake Victoria so we walked around but discovered it was closed. What kind of lunch place is closed at 1 p.m. on a Saturday?

We continued looking around town for a place to eat to no avail. We stopped at a small shack that had food advertised on the sign but only served drinks. Our final attempt at a meal was a place right next to the skiff dock, but their prices were too steep for our liking and we gave up and headed back to the boat.

Their burger was $22 and didn’t come with frys

The plan for our afternoon was to find a good place to snorkel. We picked out a spot on our charts that portrayed an abundance of coral and set off to find it. The weather was so nice we were able to skiff across the entirety of Elizabeth Harbor worry-free.

My dad drove us in the direction of the area we had picked out on the map and spotted another skiff exploring. We headed towards them in hopes that they knew what they were doing. The harbor may have been nice and calm, but the ocean beyond was throwing some pretty intimidating waves against the rocky barrier.

The other skiff tied off at a mooring ball just inside some small islands and two people jumped in. We watched as swell after swell rolled in bouncing their skiff around like a bathtub toy and slowly talked ourselves out of joining them. My dad then turned us around to see if we could find somewhere calmer.

We pulled behind a small rock, dropped the anchor, and jumped in. The water was fairly shallow and the large rolling swells had stirred up the fine sand reducing the visibility. We swam toward the rock and found a spattering of small coral heads to explore.

Unfortunately, much like our last snorkel, the coral seemed to be struggling. We swam a couple hundred yards and back but didn’t find much worth looking at. It fills me with sorrow to see the reef in this condition and I long for something to be done before it’s past the point of no return.

Discouraged by our snorkel we gathered our courage and headed to brave the larger waves. The other skiff had departed the mooring ball while we were in the water and we pulled up and tied on. We wasted no time before getting back in the water and this time I was much more enthusiastic about the spot.

The water under the skiff was closer to fifteen or twenty feet deep and led straight into a gorgeous wall of reef that stretched up very near the surface. Sadly, much of the coral still seemed to be in a state of decay, but there was a much larger diversity and a few very healthy specimens. I dove down to the bottom repeatedly trying to soak in the view.

Once we got in the water it was like the large waves didn’t exist. From the skiff we were questioning the safety of the situation, but underwater the waves only caused some awkward pushing and pulling sensations that were easy to overcome and adjust for. One thing we all noticed during the snorkel was the lack of predators in the water. We didn’t see a single shark or barracuda patrolling the reef as we usually do. The water was also surprisingly warmer than where we are moored in Red Shanks. I’m not sure why, but none of us were complaining about that.

Eventually my parents grew tired and climbed back into the skiff while Jules and I continued exploring. She spotted a juvenile jewel damselfish darting around the top of a mound of reef and we both stopped to watch as that is one of our favorites.

The neon blue dots scattered across their bodies shine like tiny stars; Florent’s Guide to the Florida, Bahamas, and Caribbean Reefs

She and I continued following the wall slowly leaving the protection of the small rocks, suddenly the push and pull of the waves grew much stronger like an underwater rollercoaster ride. I picked my head up out of the water and was briefly startled at the size of swell rushing towards us, but the reef grew so near the surface that it was providing a natural break-water for us and only a fraction of the potential power made it over.

It was awesome to witness the waves growing and crashing from below the surface too. I dove down and rolled over to look up at the surface. The patterns created by the white frothy caps were entrancing to say the least. I haven’t ever had the opportunity to witness that spectacle before and took a few minutes to observe before we headed back to the skiff.

We headed across Elizabeth Harbor to the Altitude Adjustment and relaxed in the dying afternoon sun. The gnarly winds in our future made us eager to enjoy every second of calm before the storm.

I’ll never tire of these sunsets

Feb 4, 2024

Today we began the slow transition into the wind. Over the next few days the gusts are predicted to get gradually stronger, eventually reaching over thirty knots. The sun was out in the morning, but played hide and seek throughout the day. Having had a lengthy, activity-filled day yesterday I think the consensus for the boat was to relax. We all eased into the morning sipping our coffee and listening to the cruisers net on the off chance we had anything to contribute.

I have been slacking somewhat on doing yoga every day but I am slowly approaching my thirty day goal. As of today I am two thirds of the way to completing my challenge that I probably should have completed around the end of January. Besides the occasional lack of motivation it’s also very awkward to keep up with it on days where the boat is bouncing around. A large portion of the instruction I am following includes balance training and even on calm days it is strenuous. I feel like I am practicing on extreme difficulty.

After lunch it was time to get off the boat. The next few days may not grant us the opportunity to leave so even a brief reprieve will be appreciated. The wind began picking up speed from the south and generated some swells in Red Shanks, but they are tame in comparison to our past experiences.

We left in the skiff to do some exploring and sightseeing. There wasn’t any destination in mind, just an urge to do something else. The small waves crashing against the bow of the skiff proceeded to spit water at us despite my dad’s best attempts. At this point I think we have all accepted the fact that, unless it is dead calm, you’re going to get splashed while riding in the skiff. It’s an unspoken rule to wear something that can get wet.

The main goal of our brief adventure was to try and locate a new beach that we could explore. Sadly the only sand we were able to see was in peoples backyards. I jokingly suggested that we land the skiff anyway and cross our fingers that the owners aren’t home, but the rest of the group didn’t think I was all that funny.

We cruised past a boat yard with some derelict looking boats propped up on blocks and what appeared to be a waste dump at one end of the property. There was a sign advertising marine repairs alongside one that read: “No Cash, No Splash”. I suppose they’ll just keep your boat if you don’t have the money.

There was also a sunken sailboat deteriorating in the saltwater a short distance offshore. Considering the popularity of the area, I’m surprised that it’s the only one we have seen around here. My dad then drove us through a shallow cut in hopes of spotting some rays or turtles but they were nowhere to be found. Once we emerged on the far side the waves rolling through Elizabeth Harbor intensified and we decided to abandon our search and return to the familiar beach we had explored the last few days. It may not be new and interesting, but some sand is better than no sand.

Parking on the beach in the rolling swells gave me flashbacks to Hawksbill Cay where we nearly sank the skiff. The previous experience however prepared us to handle the situation better and we got parked with minimal hassle anchoring the skiff further out in the water as opposed to trying to lug it up onto the beach. Jules and I went one way while my parents went the other. It’s great to get a little space between us every once in a while to prevent us from slaughtering one another.

Once again we all did our part to collect the trash we found. My parents gathered up a gunny sack full of plastic bags and when we passed I added my collection of plastic fragments and rope. Jules accumulated more pieces for her crown and had me keep her collection separate from the majority. It felt kind of funny separating the trash from the garbage but hey, happy wife happy life right?

There have been a few other people on the beach alongside us each time we have gone and I don’t think I have seen a single one of them helping to collect the waste. If every person out here would pick some up it would make such a difference. I guess the feeling of responsibility doesn’t resonate with everyone the way it does with us. We’re all humans, doesn’t that mean we’re all responsible for one another in some way? A little bit would really go a long way but leading the horse to water doesn’t always mean he’s going to drink.

The wind continued to escalate and after some time we jumped back into the skiff and returned to the Altitude Adjustment. The lack of activities today was a great reprieve for my aching shoulder and the dreadful wind in our future should allow me ample time to let it rest. Fingers crossed the sore throbbing pain becomes a thing of the past very soon.

The encroaching clouds over Red Shanks

Feb 5, 2024

The Windfinder weather app prediction for this morning was off once again. Miraculously it was calmer than expected. The sun beat down through the back windows and hopes were high that the looming weather had settled. Sadly, that was not the case.

As we enjoyed the morning sipping our coffee and easing into the day, the breeze began to stiffen. It was just strong enough to deter us from action. Personally I was alright with taking it easy because of my shoulder. Jules and I went out on the bow to lay in the late morning sun. We brainstormed ideas surrounding what to do next with our lives. Long story short, we still don’t really have a clue.

While she and I daydreamed about our future, my parents took it upon themselves to inventory our food situation, particularly the contents of our freezers. Normally when they make this trip they don’t have to worry much about buying meat as there is plenty of room to pack protein for two people. They have also historically been more successful in their fishing than we have. Now there are double the mouths and we haven’t been nearly as lucky as of late.

We have plenty of meat for the time being but some of our favorites are starting to dwindle. There is only one pack of boudin left and our green chili supply has reached the critical point where we may have to start being more conservative. It doesn’t help that we put it in just about everything. We will all be sad when it’s gone, but taking a break will make it taste that much better when we return to Colorado.

My shoulder repeatedly throbbed off and on throughout the afternoon and eventually my mom had heard enough of my wining. She went down to her stateroom and after some digging she emerged with some Bengay. I had never used it before and the tube she brought me had an expiration date of 2015, but it worked its magic all the same. I have used a few variations of icy-hot, but this stuff is the real deal. My mom said the smell reminded her of an old man, but I’ve definitely smelled worse. I can say without a doubt that Bengay will now be a staple in my medicine cabinet.

I applied the miracle cream thoroughly and returned to the bow with Jules. The sun was just strong enough to relieve the chill from the ever strengthening breeze, but once it disappeared behind the clouds we didn’t last long. She and I gathered up our things and promptly donned warmer clothes.

Next it was time to try and serve my mom a loss at hearts. I’ve been thinking about it and I think Jules, my dad, and I have all lost a few times, but my mom has been the silent killer. She has been smart not to brag thus far, but we finally wised up. Sadly, no matter how hard you try to target a specific person it’s impossible to predict every move and Jules ended up the loser instead. Sorry Jules.

After having our best laid plans foiled, it was time for dinner. Tonight we changed it up a little bit and prepared some Polish cuisine. It wasn’t spot on, but I think Jules’ Polish ancestors would be proud. My dad grilled some juicy Bavarian sausages and I threw together a healthy mix of peppers, onions, garlic, and sauerkraut. At home Jules and I prepare Eastern European foods more often than you might think, but it’s certainly more of a rarity for my parents. Jules toasted some bread to go with it and we had some happy, full bellies.

After dinner it was time for, you guessed it, more cards. I snagged the cribbage board and Jules and I proceeded to get slaughtered back-to-back. My parents have been running away in our friendly competition and it’s beginning to get less friendly. The current score is 19-12 and each time we come out victorious my parents turn around and put us in our place. There is obviously some form of strategy involved, but at some point you have to wonder where our card luck disappeared to.

The sun couldn’t manage to break through

Feb 6, 2024

The brunt of the west wind landed overnight and we were all happy to be well-secured on a mooring ball. My parents said they rarely see west wind with any strength down here, but California has been getting slammed with weather recently and it has now made its way across the country to us.

We heard reports on the radio of other boats in the area experiencing winds over sixty knots. The biggest gust I saw personally was about thirty five so either they’re exaggerating a little bit or we have some really great protection. I saw the strongest wind in the morning with my dad while he was listening to the radio in the pilothouse.

Nearly a 32 knot gust (bottom right)

The clouds began spitting rain at us and gusts of wind battered against the outside of the boat. One of the sailing catamarans moored nearby apparently didn’t have one of their sails properly stowed and when the powerful morning blow hit them it came unfurled. The wind offered no mercy whatsoever as it shredded their forward sail in seconds. It flapped around and generated a sound similar to thunder rumbling and by the time the crew made it outside it was in tatters.

Generally when the sails are stowed they are wrapped up tight by design to prevent that from happening. I’m not sure if their equipment failed or if they made a mistake but I guarantee they’ll be double checking their sails every time strong wind is predicted from here on out. That sail is probably in the eight to ten thousand dollar range and I’m sure it’ll be fun to try and replace it all the way down here.

If you look closely you can see the remnants of their tattered sail flapping in the thirty knot gusts

Strangely enough the weather was nearly enjoyable an hour later and continued to swap between horrendous and pleasant throughout the day. My mom has started feeling sick in the last day or two. I suppose it’s good timing as we will be confined to the boat and she won’t be missing anything exciting. Jules used our time stuck inside to attack our bathroom. She used so much vinegar that the fumes permeated through the boat but every surface was sparking when she was done.

The only other noteworthy part of the day was dinner. We defrosted some Royal Red Shrimp which are known for their tasty resemblance to lobster and scallops. My mom seared them in some butter and garlic before melting in some cream cheese, adding a can of Rotel salsa, and serving it on top of angel hair pasta. The richness nearly gave me a heart attack. Her sauce was so beautiful and velvety, combined with the delectable shrimp and medley of sautéed vegetables it was to die for.

Feb 7, 2024

Today wasn’t nearly as eventful as yesterday was and trust me, yesterday was well under the bar for “eventful”. The days are officially starting to blur together again as they did in Hurricane Harbor. At least we have better scenery here. I have been doing my best to generate content on our slow days, but you simply can’t squeeze blood out of a turnip.

I utilized the slow morning to take care of one of my favorite activities: taxes. I put my headphones in and went to work determined to make it as quick and painless as possible. Miraculously I ended up with a larger refund than I ever have before. I was ecstatic, which has certainly never been a word used to describe my tax situation in the past.

Happy to be well protected through this storm

Jules was bored enough to break out her Nintendo Switch and play some Zelda. You know it’s a slow day when the Project Queen is out of things to work on. Today marked the first ever loss for my mom in hearts. She of course claims that it’s only because she is sick and wasn’t functioning at maximum capacity as she usually is. Excuses aside, the three of us will always take the win.

Feb 8, 2024

Alright, it has been four days now since we have gotten off of the Altitude Adjustment. Bored to tears is an understatement. The sun was out for the majority of the day but with the strong winds and my mom being sick it was hard to talk ourselves into doing something. Jules has been fantasizing about chopping off the top of our conch shell for quite some time now to make a horn and today we finally pulled the trigger.

My dad supplied us with a hacksaw and his drill and we went to town. I was fearful to lop off too much so we started small and worked our way inward until we saw the opening of the chamber. Sawing through the thick, dense calcium carbonate was more of a hassle than we anticipated. When you think about it we were basically trying to cut through a rock.

It’s far more difficult than I anticipated

We used the drill to open up a mouthpiece and then took turns embarrassing ourselves trying to blow the horn. Jules was closer to achieving the deep bellowing sounds than I was, but neither of us were great.

Practice makes perfect

The remainder of the day felt so long and drawn out due to the lack of entertainment; I just had to keep reminding myself that my friends were at work and I am in the Bahamas. However it doesn’t matter where you are if you’re stuck with nothing to do. Hopefully my mom feels better tomorrow and the weather will allow us to vacate the premises of the boat and do something more interesting.

Our sun finally returned

Return to Civilization

Mon, 29 Jan 2024 00:00:00 -0500

The crummy weather that was supposed to arrive this afternoon accelerated and hit us around four a.m. The boat spun a circle during the wind direction swap and put us in a rather precarious situation. Last night, one of our neighbors dropped anchor right in front of us but due to the wind switching directions, ended up directly behind us this morning. This made them unable to move as we were directly over the top of their anchor.

Rather than waiting to see if we drag and run into them, my parents opted to relocate. Jules and I received an early morning knock on the door and a request to assist in hauling the anchor. I grabbed my glasses and rushed out to help. My dad already had the engines running so I headed onto the bow.

The moment I opened the door, I realized the wind was absolutely whipping. Luckily we have had plenty of practice and made quick work of bringing in the anchor despite the winds. The people on the other boat stood on their bow taking pictures of us as if the situation was our fault.

Nothing happened so it doesn’t really matter, but I’m definitely pointing my finger at them. I don’t think they were paying close enough attention to the wind and made the mistake of anchoring too close. It can happen to the best of us I suppose. We certainly ended up too close to a neighboring boat downtown in Fort Lauderdale. They were nice enough to not say anything and simply moved further away, this time it was our turn.

We headed a short distance north and cozied up close to Jimmy Cay. On the way I saw wind speeds exceeding thirty knots! Once we were in position I headed back to the bow and dropped the anchor. The wind collided with the side of the boat and accelerated us backwards rapidly. The chain started to vibrate as it was being pulled out faster than our windlass could feed; luckily my dad was able to buffer our speed with the motors. The second I saw the chain reach our hundred feet mark I locked it down and it pulled tight instantly. Thank god the anchor set hard and we didn’t have to go through that a second time.

The combination of strong winds, crummy neighbors, and an early wake up call, had my stress level absolutely peaking. By the time we had gotten reset and motors turned off Jules was just emerging from our bedroom. She’s never been much of a morning person. Sadly the weather confined us to the boat for the entire day once again.

The only excitement was making the decision to jump down to Georgetown tomorrow morning and fish along the way. Otherwise it was a great day to play some more cards. We are all going to be cribbage masters by the time this trip is over. Maybe we’ll head to Nevada to play in the Tournament of Champions.

At least we got a nice sunset

Jan 30, 2024

Every finger and toe on the boat was crossed this morning in hopes of catching a fish. Shortly after pouring coffee, we were on the move. We cruised south along Rudder Cut Cay and made our way into the deep blue through the aptly named Rudder Cut. I wonder what came first, the channel or the island?

While my dad drove, Jules and I moved the poles into position and picked out some lures. We decided on two squids and a diver and got them in the water immediately. George Town is about four hours away through the Exuma Sound and we didn’t want to waste a second. We haven’t had fresh fish since before the new year when we caught two mahi-mahi near Bimini.

Saying goodbye to Musha Cay

I took the first watch in the cockpit and slowly the morning ticked by. My mind wandered back to our last few times fishing; we didn’t even get a bite. As my doubts began to race I started questioning our setup, did we choose the right baits? Did we let out too much line? Maybe not enough line? Are the baits fouled together?

After a while, my dad came down and decided to switch things up. Rather than change baits he added another and we altered the position of the rods to better accommodate towing all four. My hopes began to diminish and I decided to trade out with my mom and dad. I headed up to the pilothouse to drive with Jules in an attempt to swap around our luck. The morning sun was roasting through the windows as she and I steered us back and forth over the shelf.

Shortly after we took over, Jules started seeing flying fish gliding away from the bow of the boat. Generally they are a good sign. Hopefully we can fool some of their predators with our lures. That’s when it all started to happen. I heard the simultaneous scream of the drag ripping out and my mom yelling “FISH ON!” I pulled the throttle back to an idle and Jules and I ran to assist.

She and I hadn’t even made it down the stairs before my mom amended her previous statement yelling “TWO FISH ON!” We still hadn’t arrived on the aft deck to help and she revised her announcement again screaming “THREE FISH ON!”

As we scrambled down the stairs, I noticed that my dad wasn’t present. Jules and I both assumed our positions on the bent rods and started reeling hard. We all screamed in unison for my dad to come help; of course he was in the engine room at the worst possible time. Luckily he heard the engines back off when I slowed them down and rushed outside. He went to the pilot house to stop the boat and then appeared behind us with the gaff ready to go.

Similar to our fiasco in Bimini, the fish began flanking the boat to the left and right. My mom and Jules were both fighting their fish on the starboard side of the cockpit and managed to bring them in close fairly quickly. In the midst of the chaos I looked down and saw one of the hooked fish with a big shark right behind it. It was a mahi-mahi that was in serious danger of becoming half of a mahi. I yelled out to the others about the shark but I seriously doubted there was anything we could do if he decided to steal our lunch.

Directly beneath us, the bright yellow-green of a dozen other mahi-mahi danced through the water as they scrambled to avoid the predator. Jules reeled her fish into a good position and, after a wild lunge or two, my dad landed a hit with the gaff bringing it in before the shark could take a bite. Of course it started flailing around and slinging blood everywhere around her feet. She worked to subdue the fish and avoid the sharp hooks on the floor while the waves pitched the boat side to side and the floor grew more slippery by the second.

At that point I had been reeling non stop and hadn’t gained an inch. My arm cranked and cranked but the spool of line wasn’t budging. My mom’s fish had managed to wrap around my line and was joining mine in flanking to the port side but soon she got it pulled up against the side of the boat. My dad grabbed her line with his hands, abandoning the gaff altogether, and slung it over the wall. Two fish down, one to go.

The one on my line had nearly swam to the front of the boat. The rod bent backwards toward my face and I began to worry if it could break from the awkward angle. My dad assured me it was fine and I bared down trying to turn the fish around. He looked toward the front of the boat and saw a big mahi come flying out of the water. The moment the words “that’s a nice fish” came out of his mouth the line broke and the fight was over.

Two out of three isn’t bad

I was briefly sad about losing the big one, but the worst part is that we lost a really good lure along with our dinner. However there was no time to be upset, so we secured the two mahi in the back of the boat and redeployed the rods. The two we caught in Bimini didn’t last long with four people to feed and neither will these. There’s lots of room in our freezer that needs to be filled.

My dad went upstairs and got us moving again and then returned to fix the broken line. The only lure that didn’t get hit during the commotion was the deep diver so we changed it out for another squid. Might as well pull what seems to be working the best right? In hopes of getting to yell “FISH ON” I stayed in the cockpit ready for action. Again the time seemed to fly by without an interest in our baits, I guess I didn’t have the magic touch.

Slowly I became discouraged and decided to change it up again. Jules and I headed back upstairs to drive and left my parents on guard. By this time we were about an hour and a half from Georgetown and the sun’s rays had intensified greatly. Jules and I swapped off sitting in the captain’s chair, now deemed the “hot-seat”, trying not to get roasted alive.

After about thirty minutes my dad decided to take our places at the helm. As soon as he left the cockpit and left my mom alone another rod went off. Again she screamed “FISH ON!” I slowed the boat down to an idle and went to check it out. By that time Jules and my dad had both joined her in the cockpit and she was reeling her butt off.

Jules began reeling in one of the other rods to get it out of the way, my dad relieved my mom before her arm couldn’t take it anymore, and I ran back upstairs to stop the boat. We like to leave the engines idling briefly when the fish first hits the line so the momentum of the boat can help set the hook; and it also keeps the other lures moving in case there’s multiple fish ready to strike.

Absolute chaos in the cockpit

Once I had stopped the boat I ran back to help. I traded places with my dad as he brought the fish in close and he got ready with the gaff. It was a wahoo! I was scared to bring the fish too far out of the water as I did with our mahi-mahi near Cambridge, so I removed the rod from the holder to gain more control over the fish. It also allowed me to swing the tip closer to the boat to make the fish easier to gaff. Wahoo are long and slender which makes landing a shot all that much more difficult.

My dad leaned out as I brought the fish in close. The first two attempts were a swing and a miss, but I managed to keep the fish from throwing the hook. Third time’s the charm: the gaff landed in the belly of the fish and my dad hoisted it aboard. It was definitely larger than any fish we have caught so far, but calling it a monster would be a stretch. It’s the perfect size to eat if you ask me. There’s certainly going to be less room in our freezer now.

Jules has been dying for wahoo since we got on the boat, her wish finally came true!

The fish was dispatched quickly by its wound and we got the rods back in the water hoping to get lucky one more time. By then we didn’t have far to go before we turned into Elizabeth Harbor to anchor near George Town. We drug the lures until the last possible second but didn’t end up adding to our haul. We reeled the rods in and my dad joined me in the cockpit to clean our catch. Recently, he was able to put a sharper edge on the filet knife and what a difference it made. He made quick work of the two mahi-mahi and I started rinsing and cleaning the meat to get it ready for packaging.

Once we parked in Elizabeth Harbour, I sent the first two fish inside for my mom to bag and vacuum seal before freezing and my dad started working on the wahoo. The first half of butchering was easy, but removing the skin from the meat turned into a back-breaking process. The mahi-mahi skin is tough and the knife easily slides between it and the filets; but the wahoo is much more delicate and makes it difficult to cleanly separate the flesh from the silvery skin.

By this time our mouths were watering at the thought of our fresh catch. After what felt like an eternity for my dad’s back he finally finished. I have been studying the process and Jules is eager to learn so maybe next time she and I can take some of the load off of his shoulders. It would help tremendously if we could stand rather than kneel when cleaning fish, but the fish are always too long to fit a normal cutting board so the floor is the easiest place. I guess we shouldn’t complain about catching big fish.

I went ahead and cut filets out of the skinned wahoo, rinsing it before handing it to my mom to package. My dad and I then got to work rinsing the crime scene out of the aft deck. He and I both snagged a scrub brush and went to town. Every time we thought we were almost done we would spot more blood, scales, and slime. If any of it is left behind it won’t take long before the smell lets us know. Jules then took the liberty of slicing some sashimi out of the wahoo. Her hunger for the elusive fish had finally been satiated. She brought out Wasabi, soy sauce, and ginger and we made quick work of the fresh fish.

The results of a good day fishing

Once we were satisfied and the fish had been fully taken care of it was time to go grocery shopping. George Town is by far the largest portion of civilization we have stopped at since Florida. We did spend a night parked at Nassau, but the next morning we were back on the move and never went ashore so this was the first city we had stepped in since Key Biscayne.

I helped my dad lower the skiff and we loaded it up with a rolling cooler, backpacks, a gas can, and our trash. Our shoes also made an appearance for the first time since Blackpoint. The skiff ride across Elizabeth Harbor from the northeastern anchorage was a fairly long one; luckily the wind was calm and the waves were fairly minimal. We headed southwest across the harbor, past a large group of anchored boats, and passed under a tiny bridge into Lake Victoria. It’s not a traditional lake but rather a small, well-protected bay with free docks to park at and run errands.

The narrow passage into Lake Victoria

We pulled into the first dock on the left and joined a multitude of other skiffs. I hopped out, tied us up, and began unloading our bags. I carried our trash up a short hill and was directed by my parents to a truck parked in the lot. Similar to Blackpoint, it was all on the honor system. The front window of the truck was cracked just slightly and there was a piece of paper stuck inside with rates for disposal written on it. Large bags were five dollars, small were four, and they would even dispose of used oil for a small fee. I pitched our bag into the back and slipped four bucks in through the slot.

Talk about passive income

Our next stop was of massive importance: the liquor store. Jules and I were very nearly out of rum! We picked up five bottles of Ricardo for seventy five dollars. Fifteen bucks a piece is definitely the cheapest we’ve seen since Bimini. The grocery store here is large enough that they actually have carts. Their vegetable selection wasn’t phenomenal as it had been fairly picked over, but it far surpassed Staniel Cay or Blackpoint. The store was actually fairly close in size to a small King Soopers, just more expensive. Jules did find ramen for seventy nine cents a piece though.

By the time we were ready to check out, we had just about every item on our list. Our cart was fairly full and the total was two-hundred and forty dollars. I was honestly expecting it to be much higher. I’ve spent far more than that on groceries in Denver. We then loaded up our tote bags and took a short walk back to the dinghy dock.

Our final errand was to fill up the gas can for our skiff. We untied, turned around, and went about fifty feet over to a different dock behind the gas station. There were a few people waiting that told us the tanker truck was filling the bulk tanks. I think they may have gotten distracted talking to one another as my dad strolled right past them up the hill and returned promptly with a full can of gas.

Now we had to get our haul across Elizabeth Harbor and put it away. There was so much weight in the skiff that it wouldn’t even get up on the plane even though my dad had the throttle cranked. It was like we had a lead brick laying on the floor between us. Finally, we arrived back at the Altitude Adjustment and promptly stowed the fruits of our labor.

Apparently we picked today to be gluttons for punishment and headed out one last time for a nearby beach to take a walk before sunset. My dad drove us through the vast array of anchored boats and we landed on some beautiful soft sand. We leisurely strolled through the knee-deep water and reminisced about our wildly fortunate day of fishing.

My dad spotted a massive red cushion sea star a few feet offshore in the clear water. They are the largest species of sea star found in the Caribbean and can also be colored yellow, brown, or green, depending on their life stage and diet. We all stood over the huge omnivore and admired the crazy pattern on its skin.

Don’t mind my distorted alien toes

We meandered out to the point basking in the dying sunlight and taking in the great view of Elizabeth Harbor. Jules and I cautiously took a seat on a makeshift swing set built on the beach, but rapidly lost faith in its ability to hold us upon seeing the rusty connections. Around that time the sun was nearing the horizon and we headed back to the Altitude Adjustment. Cocktails needed refreshing and fresh fish tacos were on the brain as a celebration for our long successful day of traveling.

So glad we didn’t break anything

Jan 31, 2024

There is some really gnarly west wind on the forecast for this upcoming Tuesday. Luckily, Great Exuma Island has quite a few spots to hide. There is an area just south of George Town that is called Red Shanks where my parents anchored on their first trip. They told Jules and I that it has fantastic protection from the west so we hauled up the anchor and headed that way right after we woke up.

On the way there we got introduced to the George Town cruiser net. There is such a large and consistent population of boaters in the area that someone started a daily radio chat around it. There is one person that is the moderator and he prompts the questions and calls on each boat so that the channel doesn’t dissolve into chaos with the multitude of people trying to talk at the same time.

They start each day by reading the weather and tide reports before calling on new arrivals to introduce themselves and their crew. There is no requirement to participate but there’s no harm in saying hello either so my dad went ahead and announced us. After welcoming all of the incoming boats they run through all sorts of community activities. There’s a segment for trading, selling, and buying hard-to-procure items, information surrounding the local farmers market, volleyball practice, yoga, a weekly Texas Hold ‘em tournament, local knowledge, a “Kids Corner” which is mostly kids telling jokes, and they end it with a daily inspiration.

There are many boaters that spend their entire winter here in Elizabeth Harbor and the cruiser net is a great way for them to stay connected with one another. We are only planning on staying for a week or so to get through the nasty upcoming wind, but I can see why it’s a popular destination. My dad heard that the Red Shanks’ anchorage had been filled up with mooring balls and they even mentioned how many were vacant as we cruised over. Someone also informed the group that the moorings are free until the middle of the month.

I figured the entire field would be packed with the upcoming weather and no nightly fees, but when we arrived there were surprisingly plenty of spots to choose from. We picked out a prime mooring ball nestled between the western and eastern ironshores that should be ideal protection. By the time we got hooked up the weather couldn’t have been much more beautiful; the sun was completely unimpeded by clouds and barely a breath of wind graced our presence.

Seeing as how we are going to be here for a good chunk of time, I have been scrutinizing our charts and picking out things we would like to see in the area. Red Shanks happens to have a blue hole in very close proximity to it as well as some snorkel spots that seem promising. We lowered the skiff and headed to try and locate the blue hole. According to our map it is just outside the channel of water that people use to get to town with their skiffs. Overall I think it’s only a minute or two away from the Altitude Adjustment.

Searching for the blue hole

My dad drove us into the general area we had picked out and we started looking; unfortunately the water in the channel wasn’t as clear as we would have liked. We passed over the darkest blue water we could see and used our handheld depth gauge. The water was only about fifteen feet deep. Blue holes are underwater sinkholes that can reach depths of up to nearly one thousand feet. This one wasn’t anywhere near that depth, but maybe it is just starting to form.

Since it is located in the middle of a semi-busy waterway and the water was murky we decided to head elsewhere to try and find something more interesting. There is a set of rocks that marks the entrance to Red Shanks and our charts show coral all around them so we went to investigate. By the time we dropped the skiff anchor and got masks and fins on I was sweating profusely inside my all-black wetsuit.

I was dying to get in the water. I jumped in and swam around briefly to check on the current. The first thing that I noticed is that the water was far colder than anywhere else we had been. There have been a few times when I questioned if I even needed a wetsuit; this was certainly not one of those times. My parents and Jules joined me in the water and were all equally as surprised by the temperature.

My next observation, which I believe was also shared by the whole group, was that the visibility sucked. From above it appeared to be clear and beautiful like we have grown accustomed to, but under the surface the sand was stirred up tremendously. Not only was it suspended in the water column, but it also formed a thick layer on top of many of the coral heads and sea fans. It seemed to be choking them out and killing them.

Coral struggling under layers of settling sand

I’m not sure what exactly was happening because the fine sand in the area must get suspended frequently and obviously the coral was able to grow in the first place. It would make sense that the corals would be adapted to handle the sand and remove it from its exoskeletons, otherwise they would have died out of the ecosystem long ago.

It had a similar look to it as stony coral tissue loss disease which is highly lethal to over twenty species of coral and is found throughout the Caribbean. It was first recorded off the coast of Florida in 2014 and spreads over coral reefs faster than covid spread across the United States. I’m not positive that the disease is what we were seeing, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

A massive sea urchin nestled in the reef

Unfortunately when the reef is struggling like that, it also makes life harder for the fish and other invertebrates that inhabit the area. We swam around the rocks and were somewhat unimpressed by the area. There were plenty of damselfish and sergeant majors as well as the usual snappers and grunts, but many of the reef fish I’m used to seeing weren’t present. There were no lobsters or turtles either, but we did see a massive red cushion sea star laying on the sand between some rocks.

It wasn’t long before the chilly water got the best of us and we returned to the skiff. I didn’t notice it in the water, but once I got out I realized my fingers and toes had started to go numb. Jules said hers felt the same way, but my parents thought we were just being dramatic. We cruised back toward the Altitude Adjustment while trying to absorb as much sun as we could.

Doing our best to photosynthesize

Once we got back, my dad decided to do some maintenance under the boat while he already had his wetsuit on. He wanted to investigate a rattling sound we’ve heard since leaving Georgia. The prop shafts under the boat are fitted with a set of rotating knives that function as rope cutters; this prevents lines from potentially fouling the props. There are also some rubber bushings that act as sound dampeners and my dad thought that these may need to be replaced.

For the first time this trip we broke out some dive gear and a tank. He flopped into the water with the cumbersome equipment and removed the parts. I took them and replaced the old crusty rubber before handing it back to him to reinstall. I think it took longer for him to get all of the gear ready than it did to do the actual repair but hopefully the incessant rattle has been taken care of.

By the time we finished up I looked around and noticed that the mooring field had filled up completely. Looks like we had some good timing. Initially we thought about spending an extra day at Rudder Cut Cay, but I think we are all happy to have headed south instead. We would have arrived late this afternoon and been scrambling to find a good spot to avoid the upcoming west winds. Instead we got here with plenty of time and now we can relax and wait it out without any stress.

Our home for the foreseable future

Jules and I used the remaining sunlight to warm up on the bow and, after watching another killer sunset, my dad grilled up some blackened mahi-mahi while my mom made her signature cream sauce filled with veggies and served it over pasta. It’s much more fun to ask the question “how are we cooking the fish tonight?” Rather than debating about what protein to defrost.

Feb 1, 2024

For the first time in a long time, Jules and I broke out the big comforter this morning. We really enjoy sleeping with the big hatch over our heads open for the airflow, but this morning our nice gentle breeze got very chilly. So chilly in fact that I put on my long pajamas and didn’t take them off until almost noon.

A steely gray morning at Red Shanks

Jules took the morning to continue planning for her friend Amanda’s arrival in March. Trying to predict where we will be in a month and a half is nearly impossible as the weather dictates our every move. Jules has been researching airports like a mad woman trying to nail down a few different options for Amanda to fly into. Just like everything else in the Bahamas it’s much easier said than done.

Many of the small airports on these islands have strange names which makes them very difficult to find when searching on a travel site. When she searches “Eleuthera” on the website, it only shows one airport even though there are two others further south on the island. In hopes of making her friend’s travel more painless, she has taken it upon herself to wade through the ill-maintained travel sites. I guess if we ever decide to fly in for a vacation later on in life it will be good information to have.

My dad has been keeping a close eye on our diesel consumption and decided today it was time to transfer fuel. The Altitude Adjustment has four tanks that hold diesel and our engines are set to draw out of the largest one. So far we have burned around 300 of the 430 gallons it holds. Rather than waiting until it’s empty, there is a fuel transfer system on board that allows us to add the contents of the smaller tanks to the large one. If you haven’t ever run out of fuel in a diesel engine consider yourself lucky because getting it restarted is a nearly insurmountable task. Naturally, we would like to avoid that at all costs.

My dad went ahead and showed Jules and I the process of setting valves and running the pump to add 240 gallons from our aft fuel tank into the midship tank. The whole system reminded me of the valves and pumps I operated while working at Coors, just on a very miniaturized scale. The whole transfer took roughly two and a half hours at one hundred gallons per hour. Unlike some of the operations on this boat, it performed flawlessly.

Once we had topped off the main tank, we were all ready to touch some solid ground so we took a short skiff ride to a nearby beach for an afternoon walk. Something that has surprised me for nearly this entire trip is the lack of shells. I am usually quite the collector and in the past I have been very fortunate to find some killer shells, but so far I don’t think I have found a single one that I brought back to keep. I have picked up a few small ones that I gave to Jules or my mom, but nothing substantial.

Jules saw a tiny crab inside a hole in the sand and we were waiting to see if it would come out, it didn’t

We walked from one end to the other of the soft silky sand beach and once again I returned home empty handed. The wind chill continued into the evening and reluctantly I brought out my pajamas again. The temperature never dipped below sixty five, but with the humid air and wind blowing, shorts and a t-shirt were far from sufficient. Everything is ten degrees cooler on the water.

Feb 2, 2024

Silence filled the morning air when we woke up. Not a single wave lapped on the hull and the wind generators on the neighboring boats were at a standstill. My parents jumped on the paddleboards immediately and took off to explore. Jules and I hung out on the boat and ate some breakfast awaiting their return.

The water and wind were so calm that people were out on their boards in full force. It seems like everyone in the mooring field had the same idea. Eventually my parents returned from their long expedition and Jules and I happily took their place.

The ripples on top of the water were almost nonexistent and made it much easier to see down to the bottom. My parents told Jules and I that they saw multiple huge starfish and that the far wall of the cove had some cool caves we should check out. She and I headed out and followed a similar route to theirs. It wasn’t long after we left that we began seeing the aforementioned starfish.

I also noticed what I thought were some strange plants scattered across the sandbed. As we paddled along the shoreline I finally got a closer look at one of them and realized that they weren’t plants after all, but upside-down jellyfish. Their true name is Cassiopea and they’re found in shallow warm coastal regions all around the world. The last time I saw one was on a class trip to Belize, but there weren’t nearly as many. They aren’t immobile, but remain largely stationary while laying on the sandy bottom looking very similar to the nearby aquatic plant life.

Cassiopea tentacles swaying softly in the current

Like coral and many species of clams they have a symbiosis with zooxanthellae (pronounced “zoo-zan-thell-ee”) algae that lives within their tissues. They live in shallow, clear water so that the algae can photosynthesize and then utilize the sugars and starches produced as a food source. In turn, the algae is provided with a well-protected habitat to live.

There are nearly three thousand species of zooxanthellae spread between freshwater and marine environments, and the distribution of photosynthetic individuals harbored within each host varies widely. The variety of algae living inside a jellyfish produces a color combination that is unique to each organism which is also true for many clams and corals.

These microscopic algae are the true unsung heroes of marine environments and make life for coral reefs and many other host species possible. When they vacate their host it almost always results in death for the organism. Coral bleaching events are a product of zooxanthellae evacuating due to unsuitable living conditions such as high water temperatures or ocean acidification. Super long story short, they’re incredibly important!

Jules and I startled a couple of very small turtles that were hiding along the cracks in the ironshore. It was tough to get a good look at either of them as they thoroughly dismantled the stereotype of turtles being slow. Seriously, they were flying through the water away from us. She and I rounded a corner and passed right in front of the beach we walked down yesterday.

There is a wall of ironshore here that is decorated with all manner of conch shells. Many of them have been painted with names of people on them. They are stowed in small nooks in the wall and suspended in the trees surrounding it. We don’t know the significance of them, but it appears to be some sort of tradition among cruisers down here.

Shortly after passing the conch display, I looked to my left and saw a large dark shadow under the surface. I called out to Jules letting her know that I thought there was a big nurse shark passing by us. Interested to get a better look, I turned around and started following it. It turned into some shallow water against a tiny spot of sand and gave Jules and I time to catch up before turning around straight toward us.

At that moment the sun caught the side of the shark perfectly illuminating some very well-defined vertical stripes. Nurse sharks don’t have vertical stripes, but tiger sharks sure do. The pattern was unmistakable and I nervously commented to Jules what I had observed. She gave me a look of sheer disbelief thinking that obviously I had made a mistake.

She and I were both standing on our boards floating about eight feet apart and the shark swam right in between us. Jules then recognized what I was talking about and a brief moment of trepidation enveloped us both. The shark was easily as long as our paddleboards and took its sweet time to size up Jules as it swam by. They briefly made eye-contact as it approached the surface. My only thought was “please don’t bump into one of the boards”. It wouldn’t have taken much persuasion and either one of us could have been in the water with it.

I would consider myself comfortable around the vast majority of marine animals, but tiger sharks are one of the most apex predators found in the ocean. People swim in close proximity to them on a regular basis without incident, but they are also one of the three species of sharks that are known to occasionally attack people. Now on average about four times more people drown per year than are attacked by sharks, but I think we’re all a little traumatized after seeing Jaws.

The majority of attacks are a case of mistaken identity where someone is in the wrong place at the wrong time. Usually they occur in murky water where sharks are utilizing their sensory organs to hunt rather than sight. In our case, the water was crystal clear and I believe it was fairly obvious to the shark that we weren’t a normal menu item. All consternation aside, that was one of the coolest encounters either of us have ever had with a shark, and I would do it again in a second!

Once the two of us had calmed the butterflies in our stomachs, we continued on our exploration. The erosion along the wall generated some very precarious looking overhangs. There were multiple areas that appeared to be only a few grains of sand away from collapsing under the weight of rocks and trees supported on the thin shelf.

We turned around a corner at one point and the water became noticeably deeper beneath us. The bottom was like a huge funnel with the sides slowly tapering in toward a dark blue hole in the center. There was a multitude of fish surrounding it ranging from juveniles up to some large adult snapper. With this area’s predisposition for blue holes, my theory is that what we floated over is a very young one that could eventually descend hundreds of feet below the surface.

Eventually we returned to the boat and proceeded to squeeze every ounce of sunlight we could out of the day by lounging in the serene water. Again we were surprised at how much chillier the ocean is here than our previous stops. We have consistently moved south, so I assumed the water would gradually increase in temperature as we went. However with the Gulf Stream mixing warm and cool water as it runs north from the Gulf of Mexico, it’s hard to determine a consistent trend.

Life is so hard sometimes

Luckily the potent sunlight coupled with the absence of wind kept us plenty warm despite the bracing water. Eventually it was time to get out and start putting floaties away. Once we had them stowed I requested a haircut from my mom. She doesn’t have much experience, but who am I trying to impress down here, right?

I sat down on a chair on the swim platform and, using a combination of sewing scissors and my face razor, she removed the equivalent of a small dog from my head. Her constant comments of “oh crap” and “looks like I missed some over there” had me fearing the worst, but it actually ended up looking pretty good.

I was overdue for a cut to say the least

It also gave us an idea for a great service to offer out here. Just buy a rope light and run it outside where it’s visible to other boats, then program it to display the spinning red and white of a barber pole. The only other thing you would need is an open sign and business would be booming. Just pull up in your skiff, tie off, and sit down on the back deck for a quick ‘n easy haircut.

A gorgeous ending to a phenominal day

Black Point to Musha Cay

Wed, 24 Jan 2024 00:00:00 -0500

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.

Windy Blues

Fri, 19 Jan 2024 00:00:00 -0500

After some debating we have decided not to get fuel at Staniel Cay. There are so many logistical questions that we don’t have the ability to answer at this point in time, and we’ve only used about a quarter of our total fuel. Depending on the route we take after reaching the southern tip of the Exumas, we may or may not require more diesel, but we can always get some in George Town.

Saying goodbye to Staniel Cay

Our main concern is the price: the marina on Staniel Cay charges $5.75 per gallon, so if we topped off it would cost about fifteen hundred dollars. The fuel in George Town will probably be the same price, if not more expensive, but at least we will know for sure if we need it or not. It would suck to top off here and then end up not needing it because we decide on a shorter route.

Instead of making a dent in our budget we opted to try and fill the dent in our freezer. We haven’t caught anything to eat since Bimini and morale surrounding dinners is declining. Despite having reassured ourselves that we have the right baits, techniques, and location, the fish continue to elude us. It is definitely not for lack of trying.

We pulled anchor and got the rods in the water immediately. This time we broke out some of the lures we bought in Florida. Up until now we haven’t lost enough of them to break into the new ones, but it’s time to change it up. What we have been using has a proven track record in previous years of producing fish, but lately it hasn’t been working. My dad rigged up a couple of the new divers we bought in hopes that a different color or size may be the answer.

An example of two squid lures (left) and two of our diving lures (right)

Our normal tactic is to pull one medium to large diver on our biggest rod and have it isolated on one side of the cockpit. The other two rods are then both deployed with a squid lure of varying size and color next to each other on the opposite side. The diver and larger squid are then let out to around the same distance behind the boat and the smaller squid is kept somewhat shorter in hopes of avoiding a tangle in the lines. Obviously that doesn’t always keep them from making a mess, but it sure doesn’t hurt. Now I may be disclosing classified fishing secrets here, but lately they don’t seem so valuable. Do with them what you will.

Today we tried pulling two divers of varying size and color and a nice, brightly colored squid. Initially the hopes were high and the crew was in good spirits. However, after an hour or more of no action, the doubts began creeping in. We instinctively swapped around the duties of driving and watching poles in hopes of changing our luck. Sounds superstitious doesn’t it? Well you would try it all too if you were in our shoes.

Jules was struggling with the rolling waves again and layed down in hopes of escaping the nausea. I took over driving from my parents and they went to watch the rods. My dad also changed out one of the lures for something more coloful. The moment I sat down to drive I heard the drag rip from one of the rods and my mom screamed “FISH ON!!!” I had to compose myself for a moment to contain my excitement and pulled the boat back to an idle speed before running to assist.

We’re absolutely dying for some fresh fish

The lure my dad had just changed out had been hit, but by the time I got within sight of the rod the fish was off. I think Poseidon is angry with our boat for a lackluster offering on Warderick Wells, but to be fair, we specifically asked for nice weather and healthy reef; not one of us even mentioned fishing. Still the last few instances of “fish on” have ended very abruptly. We continued fishing with a renewed sense of hope, but by the time we reached our inlet we remained empty-handed. Not even a barracuda to keep our spirits up.

The destination for the night is the town of Black Point at the northern end of Great Guana Cay. My parents know a woman there who makes the best bread in the Bahamas so Jules and I are excited to try it. We pulled into the bay to the west of town and anchored.

Similar to Staniel Cay, the anchorage was semi-crowded but the town is much more low-key. The main appeal is a laundromat that claims to be the most “cruiser friendly” laundromat in the Exumas. Those words were music to our ears as both Jules and I have some pretty rank laundry that could sorely use a wash. We stripped both of the beds, gathered all of the used towels, and lowered the skiff.

I was so excited for some clean sheets

First, we went to drop off trash. My dad drove us to the government dock and I hopped out and took it to a trailer parked in the lot. Unlike Staniel Cay, Black Point asks for a donation rather than charging to dispose of any trash. They rely entirely on the honor system as the trailer has a lockbox mounted on it and no one is keeping watch. I dropped off our one bag and happily stuck two dollars in the slot.

My dad then drove us to the laundromat dock. Yes, they have their own dock for cruisers to park their skiffs, it’s sweet. The four of us lugged our laundry up the steps and paid for some tokens to use the machines. Once the wash was moving we had thirty minutes to kill. Might as well go inquire about some bread, rum, and groceries.

The bakery is actually just a woman’s house and she apparently sells out quickly. By the time we talked to her she had nothing left and was weaving some palm fronds together. My dad did his best to place an order and will be here early tomorrow.

Many people on the island weave palm fronds and sell them to manufacturers on Nassau

Next we went to a restaurant called Scorpios. My parents have enjoyed happy hour there a couple of times and have videos to prove it. The bar also sells rum and our stock is getting low, unfortunately it’s about double the price of Bimini.

After making those two stops we still had about twenty minutes to burn as the bakery and bar are right next door to the laundromat. There are still a couple of items on the grocery list so we walked a short distance into town to check out the stores.

Like Staniel Cay there are three of them, but they are definitely smaller and more expensive. After stopping at all of them, we bought one bag of rice and then went back to swap our laundry. Upon completing our errands, we headed back to the boat and waited for happy hour to start at four.

A directory of local shops and attractions

Of course there was still more to do. The motor on the skiff has been problematic the last couple of days. My dad checked the oil and discovered that it was overfilled. His theory is that the carburetor flooded with gas and overflowed into the oil. This creates a number of problems: the oil is much thinner than it should be, the engine is struggling to start, and having too much oil is worse than having too little. Time to change the oil.

Naturally, being on a boat adds about six extra layers of difficulty. First we raised the skiff out of the water with the crane and then gently balanced it on the rail of the cockpit. Precarious doesn’t even cut it. Draining the oil is as simple as removing a bolt, but of course we had to catch and direct it into a container so we weren’t polluting the ocean. My dad removed and replaced the filter and we refilled the oil reservoir. I think it went pretty smoothly all things considered.

We lowered it back into the water and fired it up. It sounded horrible! My dad revved it a couple of times in hopes of it getting better to no avail. He then checked the oil level again and it didn’t even show on the dipstick. Quickly he killed the power and we topped it off. The difference was night and day, he revved it again and the engine purred beautifully.

It looks peaceful, but it’s hard work

After all of this we decided to try and squeeze in a snorkel before dark. My parents tried to take us to a spot that they had snorkeled before. However, when every bit of shoreline looks alike and there are little to no landmarks, it’s tough to find. We rolled into the water and saw only sand. There was an occasional anemone clinging to the rocky wall along the shore and a few small pieces of coral, but otherwise it was uneventful.

On the way back to the skiff, I noticed a huge barracuda patrolling the sand bed. The fish was covered in battle scars and had a couple of small fish darting around him. We kept an eye on him as he swam past but he wasn’t worried about us at all. We may not have seen much, but I think we were all happy to have gotten in the water. Now it’s time for happy hour.

The rocky coastline surrounding Black Point

We returned to the boat, rinsed off the saltwater, and put on dry clothes. Scorpios, like the laundromat, has its own dock for cruisers. The tide was pretty low when we pulled up, making it a huge step up to get out of the boat. There is a ladder to help people climb up, but it was engulfed in other parked skiffs.

My dad managed to get over to it, and Jules, my mom, and I climbed out. Then he pulled around to the other side and we tied up our skiff, but the dock was sitting five feet over the water line with no ladder nearby. My dad jumped from the bow of the skiff and the three of us grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up onto the dock. I’m glad we didn’t drop him, because we definitely had an audience of bar patrons watching at that point.

Watching a beautiful sunset from Scorpio’s Bar

We sat down at the bar and proceeded to drown our fishing sorrows in two-for-one rum punches and watch the sunset over the water. The drinks are served in small plastic cups, but the alcohol ratio makes up for the size. Supposedly it’s a combination of pineapple, orange, lime, and rum, but after a drink or two you’ll be asking: “WHERE’S THE JUICE?” We drank three rounds and were definitely under the influence.

Jan 20, 2024

I am happy to say that I woke up feeling better than I expected to. Not that any of us were severely drunk, but there’s typically some tax to pay after drinking and I think I avoided it. Jules made an executive decision and took it upon herself to make some breakfast sandwiches for everyone. Our fresh bread combined with a tasty runny yolk egg, bacon, and spicy green chili hit the spot.

There is some nasty looking wind headed our way in the next day or two, so we moved a few minutes south to a more protected anchorage. The water in this area is plenty deep for us to snuggle up close to the shore and out of the wind and waves. Surprisingly, there was only one boat anchored here when we arrived. My parents said the last time they rode out a storm here boats were packed in tight.

This spot also gives us great access to a beautiful beach. The wind is predicted to start up around four in the afternoon so we took advantage of our last few hours of calm to go paddleboard.

One of our favorite beaches so far

Just south of the beach, the shoreline turns into an awesome wall of limestone. The ocean has carved a deep channel where the waves crash against it causing a dramatic overhang. A cacophony of lapping waves drew our attention and we laid down on our boards to peer under the lip.

The constant erosion creates pockets and crevasses where the softer minerals dissolve, and the water flowing in and out makes some very unique sounds. The wide array of pitches and gurgles produced sounded alien in nature, like something out of a sci-fi movie.

It’s also interesting to me that the iron shore, which I have described multiple times as gnarly, and jagged, is also very fragile. The sharpest pieces are also the nearest to falling off. I reached over with my paddle and just touched some areas and the edges crumbled away into the water.

Jules and I drifted along the wall right over the top of the smallest sea turtle I’ve ever seen. Unlike the majority of the others we have come across, he was a hawksbill sea turtle. Contrary to the green sea turtle, the edges of their shells are serrated and they have a much sharper and more pointed beak than other turtles as their name would suggest.

Hawksbill turtle (Left) Green turtle (Right); photos by SEETurtles.org and Jeff Milisen

He kept us company right under our boards and eventually came up to take a breath. Upon breaking the surface he saw two huge looming shapes hovering above him and was understandably startled. He instantly ducked back into the water and paddled away rapidly.

Some sections of the wall have sheared off and fallen into the ocean creating structure for fish and invertebrates to hide. Floating over those areas we saw multiple reef fish darting about, but the ripples on the surface made them tough to identify.

Jules and I made our way up to the beach where my parents were relaxing under their umbrella. We drug the boards out of the water and walked the beach. The tiny sand particles were so delicate and smooth under our feet.

My parents sure know how to relax

Jules recently began a mission to craft using trash we find on the shore. She sifted through the plastic debris picking out pieces that match her idea. Her goal is to create a sort of crown from the materials and then wear it to our upcoming music festival. She hopes to spread awareness of trash in our oceans while simultaneously making a fashion statement.

I know it sounds a little far-fetched, but once she has her mind set on something it’s useless to try and change it. She has surprised me time and time again with her ability to find valuable uses for things that are discarded by the general population. I’m betting she ends up with a pretty awesome piece.

The beginning of a masterpiece? Or madness?

While she was busy sorting through her tiny treasures, I took a walk up the hill behind the beach. The sand weaved through an array of low lying scrub and small trees until I ended up on a crude dirt road at the top of a small rise. My feet have become increasingly tough while on this trip and now actually feel more comfortable with shoes off rather than on. I walked across the road carefully on bare feet to a patch of sand on the opposite side. From there I could just start to see the ocean.

Hoping for a better view, I continued walking along the sand through the spattering of dense plants. Slowly the boom of crashing waves came into earshot and my excitement heightened. As I drew nearer to the edge, my sandy path became sharp and jagged iron shore so I had to be careful with my footing, but I refused to be deterred. I clambered down a couple of steps and arrived on the edge of an immensely sheer cliff overlooking the ocean.

Huge waves ferociously beat against the shore

The waves rolled in and grew to a peak as the water became more shallow and then crashed hard against the rocky wall below me. I admired the view for a few minutes before turning back toward the beach. I made my way across the road and down the sandy hill and met Jules wandering through the brush. Eager to show her what I had just witnessed, I called out to her to follow me. She and I returned to the cliffside and scrambled over the sharp rocks. Even having just seen it minutes before I stood again in awe at the gorgeous view.

Eventually the wind strengthened to an uncomfortable level and we headed back to the beach. My parents packed up their chairs and umbrella and we drove back to the Altitude Adjustment, arriving just in time to hoist the skiff back to the roof before the gusts whipped around us. Time for some dinner!

All of our activities had me famished. My dad marinated and grilled pork chops, Jules whipped together some instant Idahoan mashed potatoes, and I constructed a salad with our freshly procured vegetables. I would have never expected it, but Idahoan instant mashed potatoes can be killer. We doctor them up with butter, cheese, green chili, and garlic - there’s never any leftovers.

Having good ingredients to add definitely helps, but I’m blown away at how great they are. I was a cook for a long time and made mashed potatoes literally every day for the restaurant but I’d stack our instant mash against theirs made with Yukon Gold potatoes any day of the week. I might even prefer ours because they have green chili in them.

Jan 21, 2024

This morning Jules and I awoke to a rather unusual sound. When the boat swings back and forth in the wind the ropes of our snubber stretch and creak, at this point I think we are both fairly used to it. However that wasn’t the only noise we were hearing, there was a strange clinging that resembled a chain. Once I got up, I poured some coffee and went out on the bow to investigate.

Somehow one of the ropes holding our snubber had come untied and fallen into the water. I went and told my dad and he came to help me retrieve the loose end. I pulled on the rope that was still attached and, using the boat hook, he was able to snag the dangling line. He pulled it in, we secured it back to the cleat, and we were back to normal.

The two of us then sat there and scratched our heads, perplexed at the situation. The rope wasn’t damaged or broken, the other rope was still secured to the cleat just fine, and we are all confident in tying a figure eight to a cleat. Unable to deduce a cause for the failure, he and I went back inside out of the wind. I’m just happy that nothing was damaged.

The wind did intensify over night, but we rode out a much heftier blow in Hurricane Harbor and the snubber ropes held fine. Unfortunately the weather is predicted to remain like this for nearly a week, consistently blowing over twenty knots. The bullets are whipping across the water’s surface like an automatic machine gun offering no mercy to the exposed parts of the boat.

Jules doing an impersonation of a weather vane

Slowly our anchorage is filling up, multiple boats that we saw in Black Point have come around the corner to join us in hopes of better protection. For this strong east wind I’m not sure that we could be in a much better spot.

Being confined to the boat has presented us with an opportunity to tackle our mold problem. Being from Colorado, humidity has been fairly nonexistent for the majority of my life. I knew I was in for a surprise on this trip, but I didn’t know to what extent. The day before yesterday I pulled my backpack out of our closet and discovered it was turning green. The bottom and front pocket had developed a literal carpet across it!

Immediately I had it in the sink scrubbing with vinegar and hot water. The rest of our clothes had dodged the bullet somehow, but Julia’s shoes, ukulele case, and wallet weren’t as lucky. She scrubbed them all with the same vinegar solution and left them out to dry. Nearly the entire time we have been on the boat my clothes have smelled somewhat musty, I assume it is just the price of admission.

The mold is one of those things that builds up really slowly and isn’t super noticeable until you start cleaning. My mom pulled out everything from against the walls in our dining area and went to town while Jules performed the same action in our bedroom. They scrubbed every square inch of wall and ceiling they could and the difference was stark. The bowl of soapy vinegar water Jules used turned black and needed to be refreshed multiple times, and our bedroom just isn’t very big.

Jules cleaning the ceiling in our stateroom

The humidity is great for things like making my skin feel nice and soft and keeping my nails from being brittle, but it also rapidly decreases the shelf-life of cereal and chips, doesn’t allow any of our towels to dry, ever, and bedsheets and blankets feel wet to the touch when lying down. On this subject, I may prefer Colorado, but they both have their drawbacks.

After cleaning it was again time to play some cards. A week ago we began keeping score of our cribbage games and consistently playing with the same partner (Jules and I versus my mom and dad). After seven days the score is all square at six to six. We have played so much cribbage that we even tried it backwards. The normal game is essentially a race to the finish line, instead we tried to get there as slowly as possible. It was hysterical, I think we may try and play reverse hearts next.

The cooler weather and gray skies prompted my mom to make spaghetti, one of my favorites. To be honest I just love Italian food, but spaghetti is definitely up there. She used a pound of elk Italian sausage and a pound of regular hamburger. After searing off the onions, carrots, garlic, and meat she added the tomatoes and melded together a magnificent sauce in the Instapot. My dad then sliced some bread and buttered it up with garlic salt before toasting it in the airfryer. Combine it all on top of some pasta and we had a meal that would make any Italian family jealous.

Bad weather with a great view

Jan 22, 2024

As of this morning we are in for at least three more days of wind over twenty knots. Windfinder uses a color-coded system to label the forecast and I’m tired of seeing green in our future.

20 knots is weak compared to the 35+ knots we endured in Hurricane Harbor

In an attempt to stay entertained I pulled up YouTube. In Colorado, watching videos was a somewhat regular part of my days off. I enjoyed relaxing after my long shifts at the brewery and drinking a beer. Here it is quite the contrary, minus the beer part. I started browsing some of the recent content from creators I used to tune into regularly and found myself bored. Maybe it’s because I’ve taken such a break from it that I am no longer up to speed on things, or possibly because I have much better things to do down here than watch videos. Either way, I lost interest rapidly.

My next activity was to do some yoga. I’m still not convinced that I’m doing any of it correctly, but supposedly practice makes perfect. Some days the instruction leads me to be calm and relaxed and others I end up covered in sweat and trembling. I never really know what I’m going to get, but that helps keep it interesting.

Jules used part of the day to work on her project for The Watershed Center. It’s an organization that she did some work for during a coding certificate program. She now has a part-time contract position that uses her GIS skills to help them plan future projects around floodplain resilience. She creates relative elevation models of certain areas that help The Watershed Center determine the likelihood and severity of future floods in Boulder, Colorado. It’s not super lucrative, but at least one of us has some money coming in.

An example of a relative elevation model (Beaver Creek, AK); photo from Open Topography

While she brought in the bacon, my parents and I lowered the skiff and headed to the beach. The gap between the boat and the sand was like driving through a NASA wind tunnel, but when we arrived on the beach a nearby hill calmed the gusts to a gentle breeze. After being cooped up all day, we were all excited for a walk.

We trudged through the sparse brush behind the beach and up to the dirt road. The thunderous roar of crashing waves filled the air. The amplified winds screaming across the ocean was sure to have created some monster surge. We hiked across the low-lying plants and emerged on the sheer cliff above the ocean.

The surf below us was unbelievable! Enormous waves grew into peaks as they neared the shore before exploding against the steep face below us. Eager for a better view we slinked back to the road and headed for some tall rocks to our left.

The road conveniently led us up a hill that almost entirely blocked the wind, but once we emerged on top the full force was unleashed. We had to brace into the gusts to keep our footing. The scale of the waves was hard to judge from above, but they looked tremendous. They were colliding with the wall below us so violently that the spray was coating my glasses. Unsurprisingly we didn’t see any boats braving the storm.

So glad we weren’t crossing today

I’m fairly confident that those were the largest seas I’ve ever witnessed in person. I am very happy to have been observing rather than experiencing the ferocity on display. The ocean is not usually known for being merciful, but Posiden definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. After bearing witness to the wrath of the sea gods, we made our way back down to the beach.

The three of us strolled to the end and back on the luxurious soft sand. I found another small starfish being tossed around in the surf and relocated him to a calmer spot. Getting off of the boat for a little while was well worth the effort, I never knew how much of a luxury taking a walk could be. Even if we did get blasted by the wind for most of it.

Jan 23, 2024

These windy days are all blurring together, it’s starting to feel like “Groundhog Day” with Bill Murray. At least we changed up our food this morning. Jules woke up hankering for a breakfast burrito. Typically they are a staple for breakfast food when I’m around my parents, but I think this is the first time we have made them on this trip. I got tunnel vision as soon as she mentioned it and promptly had some killer burritos knocked out.

The view through our tiny stateroom portholes

After settling into an early morning food coma, we all lazed around well into the afternoon. The only person who managed to stay busy was Jules. She probably has about a dozen projects in progress at all times. She’s always researching how to upgrade the blog’s website, working on things for The Watershed Center, or planning our camping and food list for our music festival in June. I’m not sure she ever actually takes a break.

Finally I got stir-crazy enough to suggest another walk, I really wanted to show Jules the spectacle of waves on the far side of the island. Again we lowered the skiff and headed for the beach. My parents decided to stay out of the wind and walk along the beach while Jules and I climbed up the hill. After being stuck inside all day the gusts didn’t bother us too much.

She and I hiked to the spot my parents and I had found the day before and again basked in the raw power on display. If there was a way to harness the energy of storm surge, I’m sure it could power entire cities. The waves pummeled against the rock face below us showing no signs of halting.

In awe of the magnificent crashing seas

Eventually we turned back and headed for the beach. My parents met a couple from one of the neighboring boats in the anchorage. They told us they were both from Texas and, after purchasing their catamaran named Lulu, had sold their house to live onboard full-time.

Personally, I’m not sure that I could live on a boat like this year round, I’m just too big. Between hitting my head on literally everything, the fifth grader sized toilets, and the “one-butt” kitchen I would slowly go insane. But to each their own I guess.

Central Exuma Highlights

Sun, 14 Jan 2024 00:00:00 -0500

This morning we said goodbye to Warderick Wells and departed our mooring ball. Fortunately, high tide happened to be around the same time. The channel that contains the moorings is narrow and full of boats so we need all of the extra water we can get. My dad gently eased us out right alongside the other boats. Too close for comfort is an understatement. We all waved at the people while trying to hide our nerves. Along the way the eagle rays swam under the boat but my dad was too focused to look. I’m just thankful I didn’t have to navigate the minefield.

Sharing breakfast with the sergeant majors

For the first time since Nassau we got the rods in the water today. Of course we didn’t fish inside the Land and Sea Park. We left Warderick Wells and headed into the Exuma Sound, the ocean couldn’t have been much calmer. The waves were predicted to be around one foot and this time they may have been even smaller. The park extends a few miles offshore and we traveled just outside of the boundary marked on our charts. We were well outside our normal one to three hundred foot fishing depth but who knows, we might get lucky.

I’m not convinced there are any fish out here

The lures went in and we turned the boat south along the park boundary. The morning sun beamed in through the windows and turned the pilothouse into a sauna. Jules took over as captain and my parents watched the rods. The plan is to fish south just beyond the boundary and then turn around and stay at Cambridge Cay.

At the southern corner of the park boundary we hooked a fish. The drag ripped out briefly and I bared down on the reel. We were still way offshore in a ton of water and our imaginations raced at what it could be. The fish fought hard for a short time before I got it turned around. Again it started flanking underneath the other lines but this time we avoided any mess. It came toward the surface and I glimpsed the bright yellow-green of a mahi mahi.

Contrary to the initial struggle, the fish was actually pretty small. I reeled it in close to the swim platform and my dad lunged with the gaff, the small fish wriggled around and dodged the attempts. In the excitement, I lifted the mahi too far out of the water and it managed to throw the hook.

Disappointed, but not discouraged, we got the lines back out. By this time we had passed the park boundary and were able to fish our normal depths. We trolled past the inlet to Cambridge Cay with nothing but dinner on our minds. Minute after minute passed with no action and I sat there kicking myself over the missed opportunity.

Scattered cays on the horizon

Finally another rod bent over and I jumped on to reel. I’m not trying to bring in every fish, I promise. I just happen to be in the right place at the right time and it’s difficult to swap during the fight. This fish was even smaller than the last, initially we thought it may have been bitten in half by a shark because wasn’t any resistance.

To our surprise it was a whole barracuda, just a really tiny one. After sending him back into the water we continued fishing but ended up empty handed. Unfortunately fresh fish isn’t on the menu. We turned around and headed back into the park to Cambridge Cay for the night. Again we managed to score a mooring ball.

The morning sun was roasting us while fishing and I was ready to cool off. I grabbed my bathing suit and jumped off the roof. When I surfaced the current was pulling me away fast and I had to swim hard to get back to the boat.

Overcoming my fear of heights

Once I was out, I became Casey the Bahama Barber and cleaned up my mom and Jules’s neckline. Not to toot my own horn but I think it actually looked pretty decent. They both wanted buzzed undercuts in hopes of staying a little cooler, and I cleaned up their necklines so hair wouldn’t get caught in their mask straps. Next my parents hopped in their lounge floaties and tied off to the back of the boat. Without their rope they would have been out to sea in minutes. We floated for a while behind the boat waiting for the current to ease up.

The snorkel we planned for today was to a set of islands known as Rocky Dundas. Supposedly it hides two caves that can only be explored at low tide. We left early to make sure we had time to locate the spot. We cruised across the deep channel south of the mooring with our eyes peeled. The islands in front of us jutted up out of the ocean, their flat rock walls reaching high into the air above our heads.

At high tide the overhang is submerged

There are two skiff moorings located just off the sharp wall that grant easy access to the caves. From the skiff, the shadowy wall made it difficult to see the entrances. We suited up and jumped in. From the water the caves were much more obvious. Initially, it was just a looming dark mouth on the side of the island, but after my eyes adjusted I was able to see the dim interior. The water inside was very shallow and we stood up to look around.

Massive stalactites dripped water all around us, some reaching completely from floor to ceiling. They are primarily made of calcium carbonate, however the exact composition of each one varies so they are all unique in color and shape. A small skylight with encroaching plants let in just enough light to see the brilliant colors and designs.

Awestruck by the beautiful interior

We ducked back into the water and swam a short distance over some beautiful coral to the other opening. The second cave was larger and had room to take off our fins and walk around. The walls inside were equally as impressive as the first, and another small natural skylight allowed light through.

Tiny pools in the rock remained from the tide and, after some careful examination, Jules and I located two tube anemones, a tiny red rock sea urchin, one lonely fish, two massive four-toothed nerites, and a few fuzzy chitin glued down tight. There were also coral and shell fossils embedded in the cave floor. The ecosystem contained within those walls was inimitable.

Jules was very excited

At the back of the cave was the most exclusive tiny beach I’ve ever seen, there was just enough room for one chair and a cooler. The caves also provided some great acoustics for my tone-deaf singing. Jules sounded alright, but I couldn’t carry a tune if it was in my backpack. As we made our way back out to see the reef outside, two skiffs full of people arrived. Looks like we had good timing.

The coral heads just outside were almost as impressive as the caves. The colors and diversity were the best I’ve seen so far. I checked off multiple reef fish that I hadn’t seen yet including royal grammas, juvenile and adult yellowtail damselfish, a smooth trunkfish, a trumpet fish and a gorgeous pair of butterfly fish. They were joined by countless parrotfish of all life stages, blue chromis, snapper and so many more.

It’s so nice to see healthy coral reef

Eventually we returned to the skiff and headed back to catch the sunset. On the way, we ventured around the backside of the smaller of the two Rocky Dundas islands and noticed an osprey perched high on the rocks. We moved in closer for a better look and noticed a huge nest beside it and a single chick peeking out.

Ospreys mate for life and lay between two and four eggs a year. The female will usually tend the nest but is relieved by the male periodically to go hunting. She will typically migrate a few weeks before her mate and leave him to teach the chicks to fish. They tend to reuse nests like bald eagles and add to them each year. Talk about the icing on the cake for a killer day.

We headed back to the Altitude Adjustment for the sunset. The water flattened out dramatically and there was hardly a breath of wind. It was even calmer than our morning at Pumpkin Key, The water was like a mirror reaching out into the horizon.

I hope I see another one tomorrow -Captain Jim

Jan 15, 2024

Today is our last day inside the Exumas Land and Sea Park. We spent the night on a mooring ball just south of Little Halls Pond Cay, an island owned by Johnny Depp. There is a rather popular dive site there that is nicknamed “the aquarium”. There is also a small sunken airplane in the same area that we’d like to check out.

We unhooked from the mooring ball and cruised north to get closer to the site before skiffing over. There is a sign and a single skiff mooring located along a tiny rock outcrop marking the aquarium. Unfortunately there was a group of people already tied off, but they left as we arrived and we were able to snag their spot.

The second we hit the water the fish surrounded us! A horde of sergeant majors gathered directly under the skiff joined by dozens of snapper and grunts. The water is fairly deep compared to the snorkeling we have been doing but it was crystal clear. The walls below the exposed iron shore were steep and covered in beautiful coral. It was even better than yesterday, Jules and I dove down repeatedly to get a closer look. The early morning sun made the colors pop beautifully.

Sergeant majors bullying a school of bar jacks

Suddenly a skiff full of people joined us in the water and I had to avoid running into anyone. We all gathered around a green sea turtle that showed up, taking turns diving down to get videos and say hello. Eventually the current started picking up along the sides of the small island so, after battling our way back to the skiff, we called it good.

My dad drove us over to the sunken airplane and Jules, my mom, and I rolled out of the boat to look. To be honest it wasn’t anything special. Just a small crashed plane slowly being eaten away by the saltwater. The coral heads surrounding it were much more interesting if you ask me. There were a couple of large, pretty sponges growing inside the plane and I spotted a long-spine porcupinefish hovering at the edge of the reef, but the aquarium far surpassed the small plane.

Losing the battle against saltwater

Once we were satisfied we loaded up, went back to the Altitude Adjustment, and departed for Sampson Cay. I’m sad to say goodbye to the park but we have been out of fish for far too long. Sadly the winds are strong this morning and the ocean is predicted to be very rough. Traveling along the bank should have made it a much smoother trip, however the waves are surprisingly big. Luckily, our trip was short and the swells rocked Jules to sleep rather than to death.

My dad picked an anchorage that he hoped would be semi-private, but upon arriving we had to fight for a spot. Many of the boats are much larger than we are so we weaved through them and tucked into the very back of the cove. The spot is great protection from everything but west waves and wind, and for the most part we are surrounded by jagged iron shore.

This anchorage was originally built up to be a marina, but in the early 2000’s it was purchased by a very wealthy man. He shut down the operation and made the island private for his friends and family. There are signs everywhere warning us to keep off, but we can anchor right beside it and they can’t kick us out.

Still haven’t see a green flash

Jan 16, 2024

We haven’t stopped anywhere to provision since Bimini and are running seriously low on vegetables. This also means that we haven’t been able to dump any trash. We have done well to reuse, consolidate, and minimize our waste but with four people on board it’s inevitable. There are two overflowing bags sitting out that need to go. There is the beginning of a fly infestation happening and I’m sure the trash isn’t helping.

From our anchorage we can skiff to Staniel Cay and run our errands. I helped my dad lower the skiff and replace the snorkeling gear with trash and grocery bags before we headed out. My parents spent a couple of weeks in this area so they know their way around well. By taking a shortcut through the empty marina we avoided any big open water and stayed fairly dry for once.

Like taking back roads to avoid a busy highway

The water along the way was gorgeous too. The varying depths and contours on the bottom produce a wide array of blues. Around the halfway point we turned into an anchorage at Big Major Cay to see if it was full. Surprisingly there was a ton of room, my mom said last time they were here it was a struggle to find somewhere to squeeze in. The huge area can probably accommodate over one hundred boats.

After concluding our investigation we continued to Staniel Cay. The town is basically a cleaner, nicer version of Bimini. Some of the houses are in rough shape but there is far less trash scattered around. It’s really nice to see the locals taking some pride in their community.

Cute beach houses of Staniel Cay

On Staniel Cay there are two and a half grocery stores, and typically you have to go to all of them to complete your list. The two main ones are ‘the pink’ and ‘the blue’ stores. Supposedly the owner of the pink store is mother to the owner of the blue store. They are very close together and nothing on the shelves is priced. I’m thinking the locals might get a better deal on things than boaters passing through.

We asked when they expected the supply boat and received a different answer from each store we stopped at. I’m not sure if they were messing with us or not. Just like in Bimini, I recommend checking the expiration on anything you plan to purchase as the supply boat only comes once a week.

The third option for supplies is a combination of a hardware and grocery store. In one aisle there are ropes and anchors and in the next there are vegetables and canned goods. The nice part about the hardware/grocery store is that we can tie the skiff to their dock, walk in and buy groceries, and then head back to the boat without lugging the groceries all around the town.

Skiff parking at the grocery/hardware store

After stopping at the pink and blue stores we decided to get lunch at the yacht club. Fair warning: the prices are high and the portions are small. We were able to sit outside and have a great view over the water though. The patio is situated in the middle of the marina and multiple sharks swam circles under the dock.

My parents say when the boats come in and butcher their fish there are dozens of them. There is a small staircase leading down into the water and apparently the sharks will line up with their heads on the steps and wait for scraps. At the same time people will be in the water petting them. Sounds like a great way to lose a finger if you ask me.

Losing a thumb war over an actual thumb

We also stopped at an adventure store/fish market on the island and were temporarily transported back to the U.S. The building was new and manicured for tourists, which felt very out of place here. The good news is that they had fresh grouper for sale and the price was surprisingly reasonable.

They charged us eighteen dollars a pound, but wanted double that for wahoo. In the states that’s usually the opposite. Apparently the demand is the opposite down here. The guy inside did say he ranks grouper lower than wahoo and closer to tuna. Personally I think the tuna trumps them both, but it’s just preference and all three can be fantastic.

My dad also took our time on land to source a new charcoal filter for our desalinator. Staniel Cay yacht club is actually owned by the company Watermakers Inc. so finding the part was easier than you would think. I wouldn’t expect anywhere else down here to have one in stock.

Waiting for parts in paradise

After running our errands we returned to the Altitude Adjustment only to find it completely socked in by smoke. The private island we are anchored near is doing some construction and burning large quantities of cleared vegetation. Yesterday we arrived after they had finished work for the day and were unaware of the fire. Today, the wind slacked and allowed the smoke to envelop the entire anchorage.

In an attempt to relax we floated off the back deck to cool off, but the thick smoke and rolling waves gave quite the opposite effect for me. After bouncing around for a few minutes and making a mess of the ropes that secure us to the boat I was over it. We did have a nurse shark and a turtle keeping us company for a few minutes at least.

That’s a big sea puppy

While shopping, Captain Chris of Brown Eyed Girl anchored beside us. We invited him over for happy hour and he didn’t show up empty handed. He brought homemade bread, killer salami, and enough butter to clog an artery or two. It was fantastic. His brioche bread baked with thyme and lathered in butter was the perfect snack to absorb some of the alcohol we were putting down. He stuck around for the sunset and we all traded cruising stories from the trip. It was nice to have company for a change.

I think the lack of socialization and space is making us a little stir-crazy. I’ve affectionately nicknamed my parents the Bickersons. My dad being out of cigarettes has him wearing on my mom’s nerves and it’s only a matter of time before the levee breaks.

Jan 17, 2024

Last night I became an all-you-can-eat buffet for the noseeums. They’re small enough to infiltrate the window screens and apparently I’m a beacon. They bite Jules too but she doesn’t have nearly the reaction that I do. I repeatedly awoke to a stinging sensation, but the bugs are difficult to see during the day, much less in the dark. Once they settled in there was no escape until the morning.

I awoke looking like I contracted chicken pox. Needless to say, I was unhappy. Jules and I went outside on the bow hoping for a breeze to stave off their advances, but there was hardly a breath. Usually we strive to find calm weather but this morning I was wishing for wind. With no available escape options on the boat, I donned my half-dry bathing suit from yesterday and got in the water. Sure it was cold, but anything is better than those biting midges.

While Chris was over yesterday he asked if I would check some things under his boat. Having gotten in the water early, Jules and I swam over in our snorkel gear to see what we could do. He was concerned that one of the through-holes on his boat may be clogged with mussels. These are holes in the bottom of the boat that go through to the water, hence the name, and no they don’t allow water in. He handed me a screwdriver, and after taking a few big breaths, I went to investigate.

The sunrise over Brown-Eyed Girl

The hole in question didn’t seem clogged, but other ones definitely had some aquatic hitch-hikers built up. I gently chipped them away and cleared the holes. Next, he asked me to check out his drive shaft to see if it was rattling around. Now normally I avoid checking out other guys’ shafts, but Chris is a nice guy and brought good bread so I made an exception. After inspecting the bearings I informed him of a slight jiggle on his left rudder, but nothing that seemed urgent. I’m not certain that the info I provided was helpful, but hopefully he’s got an idea of what to do next.

By the time we got back to our boat the workers had arrived on the island and would no doubt be starting a fire again. Chris pulled up his anchor and we followed in suit, no way are we going to breathe that smoke all day. The calm morning prompted us to try our luck fishing again. We made our way offshore and the lines went in. Unfortunately, all we ended up with was a long boat ride.

If you caught fish all the time they would have named it “catching”

We had one fish hit our lures and as soon as I began reeling, it was off. My dad did some research in hopes of finding some new techniques and discovered that we have the right baits, spot and time of year. Apparently it just wasn’t our day. Luckily we have grouper for dinner to hold us over until we catch something.

Disappointed in our luck we decided to head back in and anchor near the yacht club. We are currently waiting on the supply boat to arrive at Staniel Cay so we can finish provisioning before moving on. After asking around, it seems like our guess is as good as theirs. I think the locals have made their peace with the lack of consistency but it would be nice to know the schedule. From where we anchored we should at least be able to see it arrive.

We ended up anchoring next to Thunderball Grotto. It is a similar swim-through cave as the Rocky Dundas but with a more renowned reputation. In 1965, the James Bond film crew traveled to Staniel Cay to film for the movie Thunderball. Sean Connery heroically thwarts the villain’s evil plans in an epic underwater fight scene. There is even a picture of the cast on the wall at the Staniel Cay Yacht Club.

Talk about a sweet movie set!

We loaded up in the skiff and went to check it out. The current surrounding the entrance was one of the strongest I’ve witnessed so far. My dad decided to stay in the boat in case we couldn’t make the swim back. The rest of us geared up and braved the conditions. Entering the cave was fairly painless as the current rapidly swept us in.

The stalactites and stalagmites were far less dramatic inside, but we were joined by dozens of fish to make up for it. There was a small eddy on one side of the pool that we used to escape the current and look around. I think some of the magic was lost having already visited the Rocky Dundas, but I still fully recommend checking it out.

Feeling cooler than James Bond

Upon trying to leave we realized that we would have to work to get out. There is a rope inside to help pull yourself toward the entrance but it doesn’t run all the way out. The three of us formed a line on the rope and got as close to the entrance as possible. Interested to see how strong it was, the girls sent me through first. Now I’m a pretty strong swimmer and had fins on to help, but it took about all I had to clear the overhang and escape.

Having witnessed my struggle, my mom and Jules reassessed the situation. They scrambled to the end of the rope and then found a way to pull themselves out using the rocks as hand-holds. I think both of them would agree that the situation flew by stressful and escalated straight to scary. My dad saw us coming out and quickly drove to snatch us before the current swept us away. I am fortunate to say that no injuries were had.

Our final activity for the day was to go see the swimming pigs at Big Major Cay. Unlike Thunderball Grotto, I don’t fully recommend it. The pigs operate under the assumption that everyone who arrives has food due to tour boats taking customers over to feed them. They see you coming and swim out to meet you in hopes of an easy snack.

Apparently there’s knock-offs somewhere

It may sound cute and innocent, but some of the pigs are 600 lb monsters. There are even signs on the beach warning people to remain in their boats while visiting. We made a couple of circles and Jules and I scratched one’s wiry back as it swam by, but trust me, snorkeling and fishing are much more entertaining than seeing pig bay at Big Major Cay.

Looks like a lot of bacon to me

Finally we returned home and prepared fish. My dad seasoned and grilled the grouper with some blackening and Española red chili powder while my mom constructed a coconut curry with veggies and saffron rice. We definitely eat well out here.

Jan 18, 2024

Every once in a while we all need a lazy day. We used the morning to go ahead and make some phone calls. I needed to change the address on file with my health insurance, which is much easier said than done. Jules has been receiving some mixed messages from her health insurance regarding the billing for a previous visit; as usual the communication has been inconsistent. My parents have been playing phone tag with their propane company trying to confirm the gas level at their house in Arboles. Thankfully I think all of it got straightened out.

Waiting on hold never looked so good

While we all worked on our chores, the supply boat finally arrived. It parked at the big government dock and the ship-mounted crane began unloading. The key here is to be patient. Just because the ship arrives doesn’t mean the stores are stocked up. It takes some time to get it picked up from the dock, distributed to the correct stores, and placed on the shelf for sale. In Bimini, it’s good practice to wait until the morning after the ship arrives to go shopping. Remember, down here everyone runs on island time so it helps to not be in a hurry.

After eating lunch and allowing ample time for the supplies to be divvied up, my parents and I made our way over to shop. The grocery and hardware general store is the most convenient because of its skiff dock so we started there. Upon entering it seemed like nothing had changed from our previous visit, because it hadn’t. According to the man inside, the supply ship that arrived wasn’t for them.

Brace yourself for the tida wave

Originally the woman running the place told us it would arrive the day before, but now this guy says it will be here tomorrow. Who knows if there’s even a ship coming for them at all? He was nice enough to inform us that today’s ship was for the pink and blue stores. We hopped back in the skiff and drove around to check out the other stores.

My mom and I walked up the street to go shop while my dad stayed behind to watch the skiff. First we stopped at the Pink Pearl and the deliveries were being unpacked. Score! She and I snagged some fresh romaine for salads, some avocados, a couple of bell peppers, and more onions. The two bags we had weren’t very full and the total was over fifty dollars. With no prices labeled it’s always a gamble on the items, you won’t know the cost until after you’ve paid and gotten a receipt. I’m sure they do it on purpose. We bought six avocados and they were four dollars a piece, ouch!

Princess Aurora mural on Staniels Cay

She and I then tried to go to the blue store but they were closed for some reason. Upon returning to the skiff things went south. The engine refused to start, and while we were shopping my dad snuck away and bought some cigarettes. Both my mom and I were instantly upset. He had been doing well, but it’s called addiction for a reason. My mom berated him on the beach while he struggled to get the motor started and I also voiced my disappointment.

We rode back to the boat and I did my best to avoid him. Naturally that’s impossible on a boat, but what can I say, I was agitated. My emotions often get the best of me in these situations, but I wear my heart on my sleeve. Dramatic is putting it lightly, but after some time had passed we both apologized. The ocean isn’t always the only thing that’s turbulent on this boat, but we always work it out. He made surf-and-turf for dinner. Lobster tails on top of elk steak smothered in bearnaise sauce, it’s hard to stay upset after that.

The Land and Sea Park

Tue, 09 Jan 2024 00:00:00 -0500

I am officially one-third of the way through my thirty day yoga challenge. I thought it was going to be a nice, relaxing journey, but it’s been pretty intense. Nearly every day I’ve done it I get a workout, end up sweaty, and have to jump in the ocean. I’m usually sore the next day. Although I haven’t been completely diligent and took a day off here and there, you can’t blame me too much, it’s difficult when we are rocking around.

The wind gusted to over twenty knots all day yet our anchorage continued to fill with sailing catamarans. I would imagine today would be a great day to sail, but they’re all staying put like us. I think I counted about twenty masts surrounding us and not a single other trawler. It’s really surprising that we are the only power boat here.

I guess cats are just super popular lately

The national park service made their rounds today to collect. They charge fifty cents a foot to anchor and a dollar per foot to use one of their mooring balls. At fifty-two feet we pay twenty-six bucks a night on anchor. They also offer annual passes but for a private yacht it’s around twenty grand. With boats anchored and moored everywhere, I’m thinking the park does alright.

Today was a great day to play some cards. Jules has been beating us up at hearts so I’m proud to say I finally won today. Once again, our game was interrupted by someone’s skiff antics. A couple had lost power to their engine and were battling hard against the opposing winds. They took turns paddling but were going nowhere fast.

One of them managed to get the attention of a sailboat nearby that had their skiff in the water. The captain graciously came to their rescue and towed them back to their boat. Hopefully they were just out of gas, getting a part or new motor down here would be a nightmare.

Unlike yesterday, we did enjoy glimpses of the sun here and there that coaxed my mom and I into the water. We jumped in together but, upon resurfacing, noticed that we were being swept away from the boat. The situation wasn’t dire but we had to put the pedal down to get back. The wind, wave, and current combination was like a Micheal Phelps Swim Spa. We swam hard and went absolutely nowhere. It was great exercise though.

When we got out the difference in temperature between the water and air was barely noticeable. Personally, I was looking for some air-conditioning so I stepped onto the bow. The gusts whipped around me like the world’s largest blow-dryer. I felt like a vehicle at the end of my automatic car wash.

Jan 10, 2024

I am unsure as to why, but sleeping on this boat seems to be getting more difficult for me. There could be a number of reasons: our mattress is nearly thirty years old, being in the bow of the boat is noisy against the waves, or maybe I’m just way too excited to see what’s next. Either way, I refuse to let it stand in my way of having a great time. I was up early enough to see a gorgeous sunrise, so that’s a perk.

The colors just kept getting better and better

Around five this morning, the seas began rolling in from the west. Of course that is the one direction we are exposed to and the boat started rocking. It quickly motivated us, and many of our neighbors, to vacate the premises. We hauled anchor and headed for Hawksbill Cay.

I woke up with a sore shoulder and it slowly worsened as we crashed through the oncoming waves. Needless to say I was grumpy, but a concerted group effort from the crew had me feeling better quickly. My mom applied some icy-hot, my dad popped my back, Jules rubbed my shoulder, and I ate some Tylenol. Time to go explore.

Hawksbill Cay was colonized by the Russell Family in 1785 and the ruins of their failed plantation are hidden amongst the ever-encroaching foliage. The loyalist family, along with many others, were granted land in the Bahamas after the U.S. cast off British rule. Their intention was to continue producing cotton, however the harsh rocky environment coupled with a lack of fresh water made the task extremely difficult. After the abolition of slavery by Britain in 1834, the plantations were slowly abandoned and the islands began reclaiming their lands. Today they are some of the most well-preserved ruins in the Bahamas.

The elusive Russell Ruins trail sign

After learning about the plantation ruins, we set out in search. We skiffed to the beach and nearly sank when we tried to land. The nose of the skiff hit the sand and a large wave crashed in over the back. Immediately I jumped out and tried to turn us around but the next wave caught us while the skiff was sideways and flooded the bottom. Our life jackets were floating around inside the boat. I managed to turn the nose back out into the surf and we stopped taking on water, but the damage was done.

Everything we brought to the beach, including our wetsuits, was soaked. The small bilge pump kicked on and slowly pumped the water out while my dad and I held the skiff against the waves. Once it had taken care of the majority of the water the four of us each grabbed a handle and dragged the skiff completely up onto the beach; it was the only way to park it for our walk so the waves wouldn’t fill it with water.

It’s not going to sink anymore

The small boat only weighs about three hundred pounds, but the shape makes it awkward and we were dragging it backwards so it was a bear to get it up there. After expending all of our energy managing the skiff it was now time to go hike.

After cruising up and down the beach, we located some footprints that led back into the brush. The sand trail weaved through stumpy palm trees and led us deep into the island’s interior. Curly tailed lizards scattered off the path with nearly every step we took and tiny snail shells littered every inch of ground.

Soon the trail split and we followed it toward what we thought would be the ruins. It led us up a hill to an amazing panoramic view, but no ruins. We stared in awe at the ocean crashing on the rocks below and behind us could see the Altitude Adjustment moored in the small bay.

Hawksbill island foliage is extremely dense

Scrambling down the jagged rocks was far more treacherous than the climb but no injuries were had. The trail continued through the thick trees and eventually we emerged on the eastern iron shore. Once again, the view across the bay was incredible but what took my breath away was the trash.

Plastic ranging from ice chest lids and milk crates to bottle caps and tiny fragments was joined by scraps of netting and ropes as big around as my arm. All of it tangled deep into the iron shore and largely unreachable. At least the storm surge has thrown it up out of the ocean, but it would be a dangerous task to retrieve and dispose of it properly.

Only a small fraction of the total heap

At this point the trail was largely unmarked and we were still unsuccessful in finding any ruins. We explored the area in hopes of continuing on, but the trail was nowhere to be found. At this point the sun was baking us alive and we decided to return to the beach.

The ruins were nowhere to be found

After cooling off in the water my parents took a walk and Jules broke out the metal detector. She and I tooled around on the beach for a little while and uncovered another can, this time it was a White Claw.

Supposedly, Hawksbill Cay has a smugglers cave hidden along the shoreline so we took off in the skiff to find it. After seeing multiple holes that resembled a cave, but were unreachable, we stopped on another beach. My mom pointed out a buoy hanging from a tree and we decided to investigate. I walked into the narrow cut among the trees and quickly found a sign pointing to the Russell ruins. Apparently we were on the wrong beach and followed the wrong trail to start.

Traversing the trail in flip-flops was probably not the best idea. We scrambled over the sharp and pitted iron shore and I thought for sure my shoes were going to break, but they held strong. At the peak, we finally found the ruins deeply embedded in the jungle. It was straight out of Indiana Jones, if there was an idol to retrieve we would have.

Only the bottom half of the houses remain

The Russell family mainly used shells in the construction of their buildings. They would gather conchs to eat and then, using a crude furnace, superheat the shells to create a mortar type material. Apparently it worked pretty well as many of the walls of buildings are still standing. They dug cisterns lined with lime plaster from the conch shells to collect rainwater for drinking and farming. The deep holes still exist there today, although not full of water. I’m sure they would swallow a person whole if they fell in so be careful poking around up there.

I wonder what they used to dig these pits

We explored the remnants of multiple decaying houses and found a short, sturdy wall that stretched out of sight into the jungle. Calling the path among the ruins a trail is a stretch, it is largely unkempt and the encroaching plants are taking back over. The mosquitoes were also thick around the ruins, it was definitely not a place to stop and look around.

I plowed through the low-lying brush, half trying to see the ruins and half running from the swarm of micro syringes eager to draw our blood. We stumbled upon another huge view, this time overlooking the Great Bahama Bank. After stopping briefly to admire it we turned back.

We think this was their crude furnace

My long-sleeved shirt was no match for the mosquitoes, our only hope of not becoming dinner was to keep moving. Still I ended up with bites on my sides, back, and even my butt. Finally we escaped the onslaught and arrived back on the beach. After cooling off in the water it was time for a well-deserved lunch. We headed back to the boat and, after replenishing our energy levels, went to snorkel.

Putting on our soaked wetsuits was about as much fun as it sounds. The neoprene stuck to my skin like a fly trap and the animated jumping and grunting didn’t seem to help. Finally we got in the water. Almost instantly I spotted a small sand ray and the area seemed promising. However, after paddling around the shallow rocks there was no coral to be found.

Jules found a big lobster hiding in a crevasse and the occasional fish swam by, but overall it was a pretty boring swim. By this time dinner and sleep was screaming our names, we had checked off just about every attraction on Hawksbill Cay in one day.

An awesome battle between light and dark

Jan 11, 2024

From Hawksbill Cay we traveled south along the bank to the Exumas Land and Sea Park headquarters at Warderick Wells. Along the way we contacted the park about a mooring ball for the night. Most of the moorings in the park operate on a first-come first-serve basis, but not HQ. In order to secure a spot on a ball at Warderick Wells, you must contact the office and make a reservation.

There is currently no way to reserve a spot online and the park has no phone number listed; their only method of contact is by radio. Every day at nine a.m. on channels nine and sixteen the office makes an announcement. Boats inform them if they are leaving and are immediately followed by a cacophony of antsy captains attempting to hail the office and secure their spot. My dad hopped in and miraculously managed to secure us a ball.

Hooking up to our mooring ball at the HQ

The lady on the radio had a velvety smooth Bahamian accent and vaguely instructed us to come to the northern mooring field; after making some educated guesses we managed to locate the red and green buoys she described which were both desperate for a new coat of paint. We pulled between them and then received further instructions to drive to the park office.

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The Warderick Wells morning introduction

The route was a narrow cut filled with moored boats. At one point, we were so close to one of them I could have almost stepped from our boat onto theirs. We were all nervous, but my dad navigated us through without a problem. Once in front of the office, the lady finally directed us to a mooring ball in front of every other boat. In my opinion, she gave us the best seat in the house.

My dad approached the mooring ball, I snagged the rope with the boat hook, ran a line through it, and Jules tied us off. Again we made it look so easy. Almost immediately, Jules and I looked down to see a small shark swim under the boat. Next we had to pay for our spot. They have no online portal, so we lowered the skiff from the roof and cruised over to the beach near the office where there is a massive sperm whale skeleton greeting new arrivals.

This whale washed ashore in 1995, the park stated that it died due to consuming plastic

The short trail leading to the building was laid with pavers and had some interesting facts about the native flora. Necklace Pods produce bright yellow flowers and attract pollinators year round and Poisonwood, which is related to Poison Oak, causes severe skin irritation if touched.

I dodged a bullet here

Once we got into the office we instantly understood why our instructions were so spaced out and short. The woman we talked to was completely alone. She was in charge of radio calls, checking people in, and handling sales in their gift shop. Funnily enough they sell beer and booze as well as t-shirts. They even do DVD rentals for two dollars a night and had a pretty solid selection.

We paid the mooring fee and went to investigate a snorkel spot. After winging it yesterday and being disappointed, we wanted to inspect our next spot before fully committing. My dad drove us to a spot that our crude map had labeled “coral garden”. We passed through a cut between small islands and the water deepened. Immediately numerous huge black shapes became visible under the surface.

Jules and I quickly donned our snorkel and mask to take a look. We lowered into the water and found ourselves surrounded by a squadron of massive spotted eagle rays. They swam a smooth beautiful circle around us and faded into the view at the edge of our vision.

The current was swift and pushed us back through the cut toward the Altitude Adjustment. Having had a wildly successful investigation, we returned to the boat for the remainder of our gear. Wetsuits went on faster than ever before and we returned to the spot eager and ready.

Rushing to get in the water

This time we all got in the water and my dad tied the skiff to himself to drift along with it. Initially there was nothing to see, just white sand and seagrass. The water surrounding us was semi-murky and suddenly, the rays seemed to materialize out of the cloudy blue. Sixteen beautiful eagle rays gave a new meaning to the word graceful as they approached us.

The sheer size of them was astounding. I have never seen one that large, much less sixteen at once. They easily reached eight feet from fin to fin and had to approach fifteen feet in length with their slender, whip-like tails. Eagle rays tend to be shy around humans and keep a healthy distance but these ones didn’t seem too concerned with us.

Adult spotted eagle rays can weigh over 500 lbs

I repeatedly dove down alongside them to get a better view. They seemed nearly as curious of us as we were of them. Strangely one of them was missing its tail. Again and again they faded away at the edge of our vision and reappeared, their elegant swimming looked so effortless. They don’t appear to move very quickly, but keeping up with them was impossible. Slowly the current relocated us into shallower water and the rays were gone.

The current intensified as the water lessened and we drifted quickly over a beautiful coral garden. Jules spotted a lobster buried inside a coral head, its long antennae gave away its hiding spot. There were brain corals the size of basketballs scattered through the area alongside bunches of staghorn coral and sponges.

The colors were vibrant even in the cloudy water

Once the current had pushed us back to the Altitude Adjustment we got back in the skiff and did the same thing all over again. The rays returned, but in smaller numbers. This time there were only seven. Terrible, right? They glided through the water beside us and then again vanished out of sight.

On the way back we saw three different turtles, the last of which was munching on seagrass right under the boat. Jules, my mom, and I hovered in the water above him. He clumsily meandered across the sand bed picking at the strands of seagrass, completely unphased by our presence.

We saw him trip over his own fins

This time we drifted past the boat and to the sandbar behind it. The sand was like velvet beneath our feet when we stood up. Jules found a living sand dollar which is actually a species of flat sea urchin. They are in the same class as starfish and sea cucumbers and tend to live in clustered groups in shallow sandy areas and use tiny suction-cup feet to move.

She said she could feel the feet sticking to her fingers. We were both intrigued having only ever found the white skeleton of sand dollars called a “test”. She then gently buried it back in the sand. We walked to the end and back as the tide started coming up and the water slowly reclaimed the sandbar. We loaded up and skiffed back to the boat after an unbelievable day. I was certainly ready for some sleep.

Jan 12, 2024

Well I didn’t get much sleep. I rolled around in bed like a rotisserie chicken all night. The humidity makes the sheets and blankets sticky and I ended up pulling them completely off the bed. I just can’t seem to get comfortable and I’m not sure why. Earlier in the trip I was getting somewhat consistent sleep, but lately I’ve been struggling.

Luckily it’s impossible to stay grumpy when you’re in the Bahamas. I got up, drank my coffee, and rallied, ready to get back in the water. This morning, Jules was craving biscuits and gravy. We recently experimented with making a Johnny Cake and it turned out to be a killer biscuit substitute. She combined and kneaded her ingredients to make the dough and my dad threw together his signature sausage gravy. It may not have been the healthiest meal but it certainly prepared us for the day.

We couldn’t resist getting back in the water with the spotted eagle rays. The morning current was whipping when we got in the water. I felt like I blinked and drifted the length of a football field. The eagle rays came to greet us but it was nearly impossible to hang out, turning around and swimming against the current was a losing battle. Conveniently, it pushed us directly back to the boat and we repeated the drift snorkel one more time.

We did drift dives in Cozumel together, but have never done a drift snorkel before

I’m not sure I could ever be tired of swimming with the eagle rays, but a change of scenery would be appreciated. The cays and rocks surrounding the park all seem prime for snorkeling but it’s hard to tell without getting in the water. We took the skiff around the southern end of Narrow Water Cay and spotted a tiny beach.

The water approaching the beach was shallow for a long way but the skiff managed to get us pretty close. My dad found a sign dedicated to the iguanas of the island. It claimed that the Bahamian Government would prosecute anyone who harmed one of the lizards. However there wasn’t an iguana in sight.

A small green sea turtle popped his head up in the shallow water and we watched as he munched on the seagrass. The sun rapidly turned my wetsuit into a personal sauna and I was ready to get back in the water. We investigated the west side of Narrow Water Cay but unfortunately found no coral.

On the hunt for a new location to snorkel

Next we skiffed out to the northeast corner of Warderick Wells and again were unsuccessful in locating a worthy snorkel spot. I guess we’ll just settle for the eagle rays again. How tragic. This time the tide was slack and worked in our favor. Without it whipping us along we were able to float and observe them for much longer. Fourteen rays circled through the area as if showing off.

I can’t believe they let me get this close

They are the biggest animals I’ve ever been in the water with but at no time was it scary at all. The slack tide also allowed us to explore the coral garden for much longer. I spotted multiple lobsters sheltered in the coral heads, they were all monsters due to the fishing restrictions inside the park.

They were joined by a parade of beautiful fish: gray, yellow, and blue tangs, queen and gray angelfish, but no frenchies (french angelfish), wrasse of all kinds, blue chromis, needlefish, big eyed squirrel fish, damselfish, sergeant majors, a pufferfish, and an entire school of bigeye trevally, along with all manner of snapper, two or three kinds of ray other than the spotted eagle ray, multiple green sea turtles…I could go on forever.

Bigeye trevally and atlantic blue tangs

I even had an up close and personal encounter with a nurse shark. I was minding my own business taking some underwater photos and I noticed a small shark swimming in my direction. I aimed the camera for a picture and suddenly it was right in my face. After subduing a miniature panic attack I managed to compose myself and face it.

Luckily my pants were already wet

The shark casually swam directly at me and just before receiving a salty kiss I gently touched its side and persuaded it to swim around me. I believe it was another case of matched curiosity, but there was certainly a brief moment of panic in my eyes. I think the shark was around four feet long but could have easily taken a finger if it wanted to.

The diversity of marine life sheltered on this tiny reef blows my mind. From above it looks like dark blobs of rock and sand, underneath it is a thriving aquatic city. I could, and very nearly did, spend the entire day in the water.

Finally we headed back to the boat. I was so pruny it looked like I had aged forty years. The late afternoon sun warmed us on the bow and we partook in one of our favorite entertainment activities on the water: people and boat watching.

Can’t wait to see what tomorrow will bring

Usually on anchor all of the boats swing in the same direction based on the wind or tide. Here it appears to be entirely random. While the Altitude Adjustment is pointing one way, the boat beside us will do the opposite, and the one next to it will spin completely around its mooring. Some of them seem to get dangerously close to touching if you ask me. I don’t have a degree in fluid dynamics, but this would definitely be a place of interest if I did.

Jan 13, 2024

Today Jules decided to start our daily activities on the island rather than in the water. Warderick Wells boasts a magnificent panoramic view of the Exumas and she talked my dad and I into checking it out with her. It’s called Boo Boo Hill. We took the skiff to the beach near the park office and set out from there.

This trail, unlike our last, was marked fairly well with small signs and occasional splashes of paint on the rocks. A big heron made an early appearance, no doubt hunting the countless minnows in the shallow water. The tide was right around its maximum height when we started which caused much of the trail to be underwater, at least until we started climbing the hill. A wide, waist-deep channel of water cut directly through our route and I spotted a small stingray when we crossed. Good reminder to shuffle when walking in sand, you never know where they’ll be buried.

Luckily I wore my swimsuit and flip flops

The trail led us up a small hill to Posiden’s/Neptune’s altar. Cruisers apparently bring offerings to the shrine every year in hopes of pleasing the god of the sea. Jules brought a small piece of dead coral we found earlier in the trip and my dad offered a fallen palm tree stalk. The pile of driftwood engulfs a large area at the peak. Messages of all kinds, ranging from boats and peoples names to pleas to the gods to not get struck by lightning again, are scrawled on pieces of driftwood.

Someone even carried an anchor up here

The deep blue of the ocean stretched for miles along the east side of the island without a single boat in sight. Behind us, the island interior sprawled out with watery fingers stretching inward. The point gave us a great vantage over the whole mooring field and the islands beyond.

The view was the spectacular part

The eastern side of the island is almost entirely iron shore with only a few small beaches, but just below the rocks looked like great snorkeling. Typically it would be very hard to reach with the crashing surf from the ocean, but the light winds had the water looking flat like glass.

The ocean is rarely this calm

The morning sun, unimpeded by clouds, started boiling us alive. Time to get in the water. We returned to the Altitude Adjustment, gave my mom the results of our scouting mission, and loaded up the skiff. My dad again drove us around to the northeastern tip of the island, but this time we continued around and south toward the midpoint.

We stopped directly below the peak of Boo Boo Hill and I got in the water to check it out. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as nice as we had hoped. The underwater structure was mostly barren with scattered small corals here and there. I got back in the skiff and we cruised further south to the beach we saw. Again I hopped in to look around.

I was just happy to be back in the water

The water on the ocean side of the island granted us far more clarity than the coral garden near the park office. There was still a lack of coral heads but the bathymetry was far more interesting. I dove down and set the anchor into the sand and we were off. The large, hard structures we saw from above were actually stromatolites.

These are composite mounds built from lime-secreting cyanobacteria and are the oldest known fossils on earth. Some date back as far as three and a half billion years. Bahamian stromatolites are the only known specimens still growing in open ocean conditions; the hard structures provide shelter for numerous marine organisms to thrive.

I dove down to peek under them and discovered dozens of snapper and hogfish hiding from view. Jules found a pair of lobsters nestled together under one of the shelves, their antennae had to be longer than our arms. She and my mom also spotted a nassau grouper that had to push forty pounds. I could have all but stuck my head in its mouth.

The no-take rules result in some monster fish

Right alongside them was a plethora of juvenile reef fish, tiny sea fans, and small budding corals. We saw dozens of gray and yellow tangs, damselfish, multiple types of parrot fish, and a great barracuda which was waiting under the skiff when we returned.

My dad unfortunately found a gnarly, barnacle-encrusted, rusty spear from a spear gun during the snorkel. Apparently some people just can’t resist breaking the rules. Whoever dropped it was probably scared of getting caught and ditched it in hopes of appearing innocent. Even if they escaped the authorities, I’m sure karma continued to haunt them.

We have been relying on a hand-sketched map of the cays for our snorkel spots. It claims that the entire eastern side of the island is littered with reef. While that may be true, it’s not what we expected. Unlike coral reefs, stromatolite reefs are flat, and gray. Luckily there were plenty of fish to keep us company.

Accuracy not guaranteed

We then returned to the coral garden in hopes of swimming with the eagle rays one more time before leaving in the morning. Sadly, the current was ripping us through the area as soon as we hit the water and no rays were sighted before we were pushed back to the boat.

After three days of craning my neck around while snorkeling, I was ready for a break. I had a headache at the base of my skull that refused to be ignored any longer. I got out, rinsed off, ate some Tylenol, and went to relax on the bow. My mom and Jules happily joined me with a beer in hand but my dad, being a glutton for punishment, wanted to try one more time to see the rays.

Spotted eagle rays are his absolute favorites

He and I jumped back in the skiff and I drove him out in hopes of seeing them. Sure enough the large dark shapes passed under the boat and I dropped him off directly on their heads. He said there were seven of them this time. The tide was slack at this point and he managed to stay right above them for a good chunk of time before paddling back to the boat. I think he finally had his fill.

My mom skipped our morning trek to Boo Boo Hill and was ready to walk on something solid. She and my dad paddle boarded to the beach and went for a stroll. I enjoyed my time relaxing in the sun and Jules decided to exercise. Apparently, our two snorkel trips and morning hike weren’t enough for her.

Cooling off after her workout

In the evening, the low tide exposed a sandbar behind the boat and she and I paddle boarded over with our cocktails. The wet sand was so soft beneath our feet. Jules found two tiny starfish half-buried in the sand and returned them to the water. Hopefully they survived!

We named him Patrick

After walking to the end and back our drink was empty and she paddled back to the boat to refresh. She laid her phone down on the bar and instructed me to “keep an eye on it”. By this time, my mom had joined us on the bar and she and I walked to the end and back again.

Enjoying our final evening at Warderick Wells

Having felt like we had seen everything it had to offer, we paddled back to the boat leaving Julia’s phone laying in the sand. She walked out back with a full cocktail and said the fatal words: “where’s my phone?” Immediately, I realized my error and hurried back to retrieve it. Luckily it was sitting at the highest point and remained dry. I swear I’d lose my head if it wasn’t screwed on tight.

Introducing The Exumas

Thu, 04 Jan 2024 00:00:00 -0500

This morning we woke up relaxed - we have finally made it to the Exumas! Jules and I took our time getting out of bed, casually drank our coffee and basked in the morning sun. We utilized the calm morning to fly our drone and get some cool shots. I followed that up with some yoga and jumped straight in the sparkling water when I was done. Slowly but surely it is getting warmer.

The water continually blows my mind

Next on the agenda was snorkeling. We lowered the skiff from the roof and loaded it up with gear and beer. My parents took us up to a site near Allen’s Cay that they had snorkeled before and we dropped anchor. This time I took my wetsuit, I all but froze at Gun Cay. Jules put hers on before we left the Altitude Adjustment so she got to watch as the three of us squirmed around in the tiny boat. There was another group snorkeling nearby and one person waiting on the boat. I bet we put on a funny show for him as we squeezed and jumped around to get situated in our suits.

Finally, we all got in the water. Unlike our last snorkel at Gun Cay, there were coral heads in every direction. Jules and I immediately started diving down and checking out the scenery. Unfortunately the sun disappeared right after we got in, but the colors were still gorgeous.

A thriving brain coral near Leaf Cay

Julia spotted a nurse shark tucked into the reef, it was about as long as I am tall. We all hovered overhead to check it out. The shark wasn’t concerned with me in the least. Some of the group near us heard Julia say there was a shark. I think it made them nervous because they left shortly after. In my experience nurse sharks are like the puppy dogs of the ocean so we weren’t too concerned.

Can you spot the shark?

The four of us remained brave and continued our snorkel, gawking at the reef as we went. It has been way too long since I was here. We perused slowly back and forth. Gray angelfish stood guard with sergeant majors, yellow barred grunts schooled along the edges of the reef, and I found multiple sea cucumbers cruising along the sand bed. Jules later described it as a fish city and I couldn’t agree more. The sun never did show itself while we were there. The gray sky actually rained on us for a short time while we swam, luckily we couldn’t get any more wet.

A beautiful example of a white branching coral

The cold slowly set in and, one by one, we made our way back to the skiff to get dried off. Too bad the rain got our towels wet. We stripped our wetsuits off and urged the sun to come back out. My mom pulled in the anchor for the skiff and we took off to our next destination.

The islands surrounding us are the only known habitat of the Bahamian rock iguana. Naturally Jules and I wanted to check them out. We cruised around to a small beach nearby on Leaf Cay. The lizards are so used to getting food from people that they come running when you show up; there was already a family feeding them when we arrived.

I think this one has a weight problem

They didn’t look like any iguanas we had seen before. Instead of green or orange, they were primarily gray with red spines running along their backs and tails. Their large beards and faces were splotched with red as well. The majority of the iguanas were fat, no doubt due to the free food and lack of predators. Julia found some cucumber on the beach left over from a previous group, we cleaned it off and gave it a shot.

I was able to coax a smaller one into trying it. He cautiously approached and then lunged to grab the small piece, of course he got my finger too. I’m glad he was a small one. A much larger one took an interest in Jules. She offered the cucumber and, after some careful consideration by the iguana, he turned his nose up at it. She then found a grape and offered it instead, he happily snagged it from her hand and munched on it. I guess with the abundance of food they can afford to be picky.

Feeding a tiny dinosaur

Our next stop was the large beach on the northern part of Highborne Cay. We stopped at the boat to restock beer and get a snack before cruising over to the sand. The second I jumped out of the skiff a staff member came to investigate. He informed us that beach access here is only available if you’re parked in the marina and checked in on the island first. So I hopped back in and we turned around.

Heading back toward the boat we noticed an empty beach nearby. My dad anchored the skiff in the sand and we clambered out. It was immaculate. There wasn’t a soul on the beach but us. Not only that but there was no trash visible either, and the rocky shore surrounding us sheltered the small cove from any waves. A few mangroves lingered on our side of the beach while a forest covered the distant corner. The water was clear enough that we could investigate the spider web of branches.

The explorative roots of a red mangrove

My mom made her way down the beach to the larger grouping of trees, Jules and I followed close behind her. The tangled mess of foliage creates a sanctuary for small fish and invertebrates. I spotted a tiny sand crab lurking in the seagrass, my mom discovered a pool filled with baby conchs, and thousands of juvenile fish darted around the roots in the shallow water. The sand gathered around the mangrove roots is so fine, it felt like velvet on our feet.

A conch residing in the mangroves

Jules and I walked through the water and up onto the iron shore. Generally the rocks are gnarly and jagged, definitely not somewhere to go barefoot. Where we ended up the razor-sharp edges only existed where the waves crashed, and the sheltered side was soft and smooth under our feet.

Iron shore is formed of limestone from ancient coral reefs. During the Pleistocene epoch, nearly three million years ago, the oceans were deeper due to a lack of ice at the poles. This gave coral more room to grow vertically in the water column. Later in the Pleistocene, about one-hundred thousand years ago, the earth experienced our most recent glaciation period and the seas gradually became more shallow as water froze. This left the tall coral heads exposed and they began to die off. Their hard exoskeletons deposited on top of one another and formed the limestone surfaces we have today.

When the ice melted and sea levels rose, around twelve thousand years ago, the crashing waves began eroding the softer lime from around the harder deposits. This creates pockets in the rocks with edges that are brutally sharp. It’s equally as rough on boats that venture too close, offering no forgiveness as it tears apart the vessel.

If you fall on this stuff it will mess you up!

Once Jules and I made it around the far side of the mangroves we decided to walk back through the water. We waded in across the seagrass bed, the bottom was incredibly mucky. Every step we took sunk us deeper into the silt, the grass tickling our legs as we trudged through. We decided to cut the walk short and headed towards higher ground near the mangroves. In fifty years, that whole area will probably be dry. If no one removes the mangroves they will continue to aggregate soils with their roots and add to the beach of the island. Like I mentioned before, they are some hard working trees.

Newly established mangrove propagules

After a few hours of exploring it was time to leave, Jules and I meandered back along the beach toward the skiff. My mom was in the water ahead of us and pointed out a mangrove tree crab. He clutched the branches just below the water line, no doubt hunting for his dinner. These crabs feed primarily on mangrove leaves but prefer small fish and invertebrates. We named him Constance the crab, I hope he’s prosperous for years to come.

He is right at home bobbing about on the roots

We packed ourselves and our stuff into the skiff and headed back to the boat for dinner. Later that night we broke out the charts and planned our next move, Shroud Cay here we come! It marks the very northern tip of the Exumas Land and Sea Park which was the first ever marine protected area and no-take zone.

Watching the sunset at Highborne

Jan 5, 2024

Around 6 a.m. this morning the boat started bouncing hard. The wind and waves changed direction and large swells started rolling into our anchorage. Sometimes a gentle rock from the waves is nice when trying to sleep, but this was far from gentle. The bow of the boat rode high up on the waves and crashed hard into the trough between them. It was both loud and uncomfortable. Immediately after we woke up, we were on the move. The ocean may be violent but we can travel along the Great Bahama Bank and the shallow water will be much calmer.

Unfortunately, our route to leave the anchorage left us vulnerable to the waves. We made a turn to exit and got pelted in the side again. The waves tilted the boat fifteen degrees in both directions. Our chairs slid across the deck and I think we all had flashbacks to the crossing from Florida. Luckily, the rocking was short-lived.

Smooth sailing on the bank

It only took about two hours to reach Shroud Cay. A blink in comparison to our last three travel days. We have now entered the Exumas Land and Sea Park. Although we can’t fish here, I’m looking forward to what we will see.

The sun played hide-and-seek well into the afternoon, causing some frustration surrounding our plans. No one could make a decision on what to do, finally we decided to try and snorkel again. My dad climbed to the roof to lower the skiff, plugged in the controller, and discovered our crane was broken again. The button that lowers the cable wouldn’t respond. Snorkeling was out the window, time for plan B. While my parents fiddled with the crane, Jules and I went paddle boarding. Sounds super fair doesn’t it.

The Altitude Adjustment in the distance

We paddled over to a cluster of tiny islands near the boat and brought the boards ashore. They were ringed entirely by the iron shore so we brought our shoes. One of the first things we noticed is that the plants on these islands are hardcore, some of their roots grow directly through the rocks!

Nature finds a way

The competition for suitable growing conditions is fierce. Palm trees are few and far between, instead most of the islands are covered in extremely dense foliage consisting of skinny trees and brush. Palms are still present, just not in the manicured California sense.

My brother from another mother

The pools of water in the iron shore were filled with snails and crabs. Tiny aquatic plants struggled to hold on as the surf crashed again and again. There were also spider webs scattered across the many nooks and crannies. Spiders are actually some of the first colonizers of new islands, so it makes sense to see them out here. Many species are able to float on air currents and cross large geographic barriers.

Some beautiful but harsh living conditions

We did our civic duty and disposed of a huge wad of discarded fishing line we found. It definitely didn’t belong in the park. And just in case anyone was curious, my parents were successful in fixing the crane… again.

Can you please move your yachts!

Jan 6, 2024

Normally in the morning, around seven, Jules and I awake to the sound of the generator. My dad starts it up to make coffee and charge the batteries. This morning we heard the generator try and fail. Fortunately, my dad has seen it all on this boat and quickly deduced that it needed a new water pump impeller; essentially the cooling system was broken. He pulled out one of many backup impellers and we had the new one installed pronto. Apparently this wasn’t the first time.

Burning off the morning clouds

Jules and I used the rest of the morning to do some yoga before taking a walk on a nearby beach with my parents. There is a saltwater river on Shroud Cay that my parents say is a “must see”. Unfortunately, it’s low tide this morning and even the skiff will get stuck in the shallow river so we have some time to kill.

Getting the skiff off of the roof was somewhat precarious as the waves rocked us side to side. I did my best to steady the miniature wrecking ball as the crane slowly brought it down to the water. Luckily, we managed to keep from breaking anything.

The beach was beautiful. It ran along the side of an estuary inlet with crystal clear water. The sand was fine and soft, countless minuscule shells cascaded in the waves, and mangroves harbored all manner of juvenile marine life.

Jules and I found an awesome baby shrimp hiding in some submerged plants hunting for its breakfast. I scared a sand crab out of his home by accident, it scuttled over to me and buried itself against my foot. At the end of the beach, mangroves stretched out of sight across the island’s interior, I’ve never seen so many at once.

These small snails litter the islands

Jules decided she wanted to swim back to the skiff. She waded through the mushy sediment out into the estuary channel and gracefully took the plunge. She was so eager to get in the gorgeous water that she went in with her hat and sunglasses.

After a while, hunger took over and we headed back to eat lunch and get ready to see the river. The four of us made quick work of some boudin, a type of sausage popular in Cajun cuisine. My parents stock up on some every time they drive to Florida. Scott, Louisiana is the boudin capital of the world, and trust me, its title is well-deserved.

After lunch, we piled back into the skiff and were off. We cruised to the northern end of Shroud Cay and into the saltwater river. Posted signs declare that idle speed is required to protect marine life. The water below us fluctuated depths constantly, creating amazing patterns of dark blue, teal, and turquoise. Mangroves lined nearly every inch of shoreline with their red, tangled roots reaching out into the channel. The river snaked through the island lazily with multiple tight curves and side channels.

We’ve never seen a saltwater river before

The flowing water causes shoaling throughout the river so my dad weaved us around the sandbars and kept us from getting stuck. Small sea turtles grazed on the plant life and a myriad of minnows glittered just under the water’s surface.

Eventually, we made it through the island to the ocean side. The river cut directly through an incredible beach and opened into a massive bay. I sorely needed someone to pick my jaw up from the floor. We parked the skiff and started walking the beach.

The picture-perfect scene felt like it was straight out of a movie. My parents led Jules and I around to a trail and we all made our way up the small hill. Apparently in the 1980’s the DEA used the spot to spy on Pablo Escobar’s activities at Norman’s Cay to the north. We used it to take pictures.

The DEA had a pretty killer spot

We climbed back down to the beach and my parents and Jules relaxed in the sand, but I wasn’t done exploring. A sandbar wraps across the river’s mouth and connects the two sides of the island. I decided to try and walk along it to the opposite side. It was a trek. Initially it was knee deep, but gradually the water rose to my waist, and then to my belly button. I thought I may have to swim the remaining distance but I pressed on.

I was on a mission

Right around the halfway point the waves crashing on the bar intensified and I fought to keep my footing, but I wasn’t deterred. Eventually, the water shallowed and I arrived on the opposite beach. I had it completely to myself.

I took my time walking from one end to the other. The beach backed up to the exposed iron shore and then upward into dense jungle. Unlike the gnarly, jagged shore eroded by the ocean, the areas that only experience wind erosion are soft and smooth. The sand gets blown across it and creates some beautiful patterns that resemble the topography lines on a map.

The smooth surface also created the perfect spot for curly-tailed lizards to sun themselves; dozens of them scattered as I walked by. One brave individual held his ground. I squatted down to observe him and he surprised me by approaching my hand. Unlike the iguanas we fed on Leaf Cay the curly tailed lizards are tiny, only a few inches long at most. I sat and watched him for a few minutes and he worked up the courage to investigate. I laid my hand down near him and he licked my finger in hopes of food.

These guys are prolific down here

After making friends, I decided to hike up the hill and was rewarded with another great view. On one side, the river carved a bright blue line through the mangrove forest, on the other beautiful waves swelled and crashed in the bay. I soaked in the sights for as long as possible before heading back across. This time, instead of walking a quarter mile of sandbar, I decided to swim across the thirty-foot gap in the river. I made great time.

We departed the beach just in time, two skiffs full of people took our spot as we left. On the way back, we ventured up one of the river forks. Turtles were everywhere; Julia counted a total of sixteen for the day! Again, I was in danger of catching bugs because my mouth was hanging open. This is one of the coolest ecosystems I have ever seen.

A gorgeous afterglow to end a killer day

Jan 7, 2024

When we woke up there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The wind was predicted to switch directions from north to south throughout the day so we hauled the anchor and moved to a more protected spot, snuggling up closer to the shoreline at Shroud Cay. The island will act as a natural breakwater for the incoming waves.

Once we parked it got hot fast! I felt like I was doing yoga in a sauna. Time for the beach. We inflated our floaties and stacked them on top of the paddleboards. Then we strapped the boards to the back of the skiff and towed the whole monstrosity over to another river inlet further south.

Building the leaning tower of toys

When we arrived, the beach was empty. I’m not sure how we keep getting lucky like this but I’m not complaining. Only yesterday this beach was full of people when we passed by. We wasted no time getting in the water. I untied our tower of floaties and began the difficult task of lounging, my parents jumped on the paddleboards and took off down the inlet.

It’s a tough life sometimes

Meanwhile Julia broke out the metal detector. We bought a cheap one for the trip and honestly kept forgetting to use it. I’m not entirely convinced that it’ll find anything but might as well give it a shot. She cruised the beach with it and found all manner of false positives. Eventually, Jules dialed in her method and managed to uncover a long lost can. I think we would rather have a pirate doubloon but at least we know that it works.

Believe it or not this is a can

When my parents returned, I relinquished my throne and Jules and I happily took the paddleboards. Shortly after we left, a finger split off from the main body of the river and we decided to explore it. Immediately there were fish scrambling to hide from us. Juvenile mangrove snappers were getting bullied by sergeant majors half their size. Sergeant majors are black, yellow, and white striped fish with a Napoleon complex, I’ve even had them peck at my mask when I dive.

The inlet was narrow to start and got skinnier the deeper we went. Mangroves lined both sides and the water slowly shallowed beneath us. Eventually, the reaching roots of the trees blocked the channel, beyond was a forest of mangroves stretching for miles - no way we were getting through that. Now we had to figure out how to get out. Turning a nine-foot board around in the narrow channel was like performing a twenty point turn with a car.

Paddle boarding up the river inlet

The main body of the river was much deeper and wider than the finger. The current creates sandbars and deep pools just like a normal river, but here the water is gin-clear. The varying depths create a beautiful gradient of colors, from white sand near the surface to dark blues in the eddies. After a few minutes, the river made a sharp turn against a rocky wall and got much deeper. The structure of the underwater rock provides hiding places for all types of fish. We saw adult mangrove snapper, a huge barracuda, and Jules even saw a juvenile french angelfish.

We eventually turned around and headed back to the beach, the wind and current fought us the whole way. Going was the easy part, coming back we got a workout. Unsurprisingly, my parents were right where we left them. We couldn’t have asked for a better day in the sun. I put four layers of sunscreen on my neck today and still got burnt.

Our private beach for the day

As the day crept towards sunset, we piled the toys back onto the boards and made our way to the boat. Julia later went to hang her wet clothes on the railing outside and was greeted by a nurse shark. It was laying on the bottom right under the boat. Some sharks will congregate under boats to target small fish that are attracted to food scraps.

Here for the fish, not for us

After dark, my dad went outside and saw a dark spot moving in the water. He grabbed a flashlight and revealed a huge turtle grazing along the bottom. It was too dark to identify what kind, but hopefully we will see him again tomorrow.

Jan 8, 2024

Being on the boat has changed my sleep schedule tremendously. Usually we are all in bed by 8:30 p.m.; I probably sound like an eighty-year old man. Next I’m going to start calling dinner, supper and eating at early-bird specials. There just isn’t much entertainment after dark down here. Thanks to StarLink, we have wifi so movies are an option, but we’re all too tired by the end of the day to watch one. The sun really takes it out of you, it’s like an inverse solar charger.

Unfortunately, the sun barely showed itself today. Jules and I woke up super early and were fortunate enough to catch a glimpse before it disappeared behind the clouds. The sky remained a dark gray monotone color all day.

Please come back soon

The winds are supposed to blow in from the east and be consistently over twenty knots for the next two days; that’s the strongest we’ve seen since Hurricane Harbor. Sounds like we may be confined to the boat once again.

Time to break out another puzzle

The weather prediction has filled up the anchorage around us. We are in a well-protected spot next to Shroud Cay and plenty of boaters have joined us. Surprisingly, a large number of them are rentals. Apparently it’s common to see rental boats at the northern end of the Exumas. The majority of them have been sailing catamarans which seem to be popular right now and have plenty of room for three or four like-minded couples to split the cost.

They run around ten to twenty thousand a week depending on which boat and the time of year, but there seems to be plenty of them despite the large price tag. They all seem to be in a hurry too, squeezing in as many sights as their deadline allows. I’m thrilled that we have the option to take our time. While we wait for the beautiful weather to come back they’re rushing around in the wind, keen to get their money’s worth.

We were the only trawler in sight

Of course my dad found himself another project. Our skiff crane was beginning to rust along the hydraulic arm. Fearing it may need replacing if not taken care of soon, he went to work. First running an extension cord to the roof, followed by a sander, white paint, and some elbow grease. He sanded the rust away to stop the corrosion and then painted the arm to prevent it from starting again. All of this was once again done on the roof in strong winds. By the time he was done, paint speckles covered his sunglasses but the hydraulic arm looked great.

One exciting thing did happen today, although not to us. Once all of the chores were complete, we decided to play some cards. In the middle of our game of hearts we noticed a skiff floating past the boat, unoccupied. Someone was about to be very upset, thats the eqivalent of losing your car out here. My dad ran to the pilothouse and honked the horn trying to get some attention on it.

Luckily another boat already had their skiff in the water and was able to go and rescue the drifter and return it. Our skiff was on the roof otherwise we would have chased after it ourselves. But imagine if that happened at night, those people would have never seen their skiff again. I don’t even want to think about how difficult it is to get a new one down here in the Exumas. The crazy part is that the people who nearly lost their fifteen thousand dollar skiff just tied it back off and went inside instead of picking it up and securing it. They’re just begging for a repeat if you ask me.

Hop, Skip, and a Jump

Fri, 29 Dec 2023 00:00:00 -0500

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

Crossing to Bimini

Sun, 24 Dec 2023 00:00:00 -0500

Last night was noisy. The bow of the boat bounced through the oncoming waves incessantly, our stateroom sounded like we were in a washing machine. Coupled with the chafing ropes on our snubber, it made sleep strenuous.

The ear plugs we have are a lifesaver but they keep falling out in the middle of the night. It’s pretty awkward trying to fish an earplug out from between the sheets while the boat’s rocking around, it’s pitch dark, and I’m trying not to wake the bear sleeping beside me.

We made our final trek south to Angelfish Cut today, now it’s all up to the weather. Wednesday is still looking good and it can’t come fast enough. I love playing cards, but I want it to be a hobby not a profession.

Continuing south to Pumpkin Key

We decided to treat ourselves to a very tasty prime rib dinner for Christmas Eve. It definitely feels strange to have no tree, no presents, and be completely surrounded by water. There has been a serious lack of Christmas music and the only lights we have came stock on the boat. It’s vastly different from the below-freezing temperatures and constant snow in Colorado.

Dec 25, 2023

I think I’m allowed to take a day off on Christmas. Trust me, it was uneventful. Just killer food, good people, and board games. The sun hid from us all day. We did have one person yell “Merry Christmas” as he passed us in his boat. My mom chilled champagne and somehow we forgot to drink it. Having a nice low-key holiday every once in a while is pretty nice.

Dec 26, 2023

Our final day of waiting. Tomorrow still has less than one-foot tall waves and single-digit wind speeds, hard to ask for much better than that for our crossing. When I woke up this morning it was so quiet. No waves slapped against the bow and our ropes weren’t creaking holding us against the wind.

The morning stillness was almost eerie

The calm weather prompted an early morning relocation to Pumpkin Key and now we are even closer to Angelfish Cut. My dad wanted to confirm the depth of the channel, so we lowered the skiff from the roof into the water and cruised through to the ocean. He has a handheld depth gauge that’s useful in these types of situations. Instead of relying solely on our charts, which are subject to change, we can skiff over the questionable areas and check the depths manually to confirm where to go. Passages out to the ocean can be notoriously tricky, so it’s nice to know what we’ll be up against.

Preparing to investigate Angelfish Cut

The mangroves occupied every inch of land along both sides of the cut. Their long roots stretched down into the saltwater clinging to anything they could find. Sadly, that often meant trash was littered throughout them. The density of the forest made it difficult to retrieve the debris, although we did our best.

Densely packed red mangroves

The birds don’t seem to mind too much though, we saw at least two snowy egrets hunting in the trees. Frigate birds and ospreys circled high overhead and the pelicans joined the cormorants patrolling the water.

Satisfied that we shouldn’t have any problem with the depth, we returned to the boat. However, the cable that lifts the skiff onto the roof stopped retracting. Dragging it behind us is an option, but that’s more of a last resort. My dad wired the crane himself so he decided to check the connections. In doing so he severed a very important wire from its terminal. Breaking things while trying to fix them is somewhat of a specialty for him. Luckily, our personal MacGyver can fix anything.

Our 30 year old crane

He broke out his soldering iron and, after some experimentation, we got it back together and operational. Keep in mind, this work was done on the roof of our boat while the wind fought us the entire time. I’m not sure the job we did was professional by any means, but the skiff is back on the roof and we don’t have to tow it to Bimini tomorrow, hooray!

To prepare for the journey, my dad showed us how to clean the sea strainers which filter water from the ocean before it cools our engines. We also changed the oil on our generator. These tasks aren’t very difficult, but squeezing into that engine room is rough. There is nowhere to fully stand up and two massive diesel engines are in the way of anything that needs done.

We call this boat yoga

Overall, I believe the Altitude Adjustment is shipshape and ready for the voyage. My mom is so excited she might not sleep. We would all really love to catch some fish too, fingers crossed we get lucky tomorrow morning.

In the evening we met up with the captain, Chris, and first mate, Melissa, of Brown Eyed Girl. Now we have a boat to make the crossing with us, it’s never bad to have company on a trip like this. We actually met Chris back in Lake Worth, crazy to think you can travel for miles and still run into the same people.

Our last sunset in U.S. waters

Dec 27, 2023

Finally, the day we have all been waiting for. As soon as it was bright enough to see, we were hauling anchor. We gently maneuvered our way through Angelfish Cut with the sun rising over the low clouds on the ocean.

Finally heading for The Bahamas!

Tensions were high as we navigated the shallow water, but we made it through no sweat. The only issue we faced was avoiding all of the crab pot floats. Fishermen seem to scatter traps everywhere, including the high traffic areas. They littered the ICW all the way from Georgia. Dodging them is like weaving through cones on the highway. Brown Eyed Girl followed close behind us and together we set course for Bimini.

Our travel companion for the crossing

It wasn’t long before land began to shrink and the water deepened. We got the fishing rods into the water and managed to catch two skipjack tuna pretty quickly! They definitely weren’t monsters but should be good eating and bait for later.

Unfortunately the calm, flat day we were expecting turned into anything but. Windfinder predicted one to one and a half foot waves. Weather apps are always subject to change but this time they were off by a mile. Not only are the waves closer to four and five feet tall, they are also coming from a completely different direction. The waves that should be moving northeast along with us are actually moving south and absolutely pelting us in the side.

To someone who hasn’t been on a boat that may not seem like a big deal, but it makes the rocking sensation much more severe. At the time of writing this, Julia is sick, our plants have spilled over, and we have been pitched as far as twenty six degrees from our center.

The inclinometer, affectionately know as the ‘tilt-o-meter

The chairs on our aft deck are screeching back and forth and our beer fridge just flew open cascading beverages in all directions. Supposedly, the waves should calm down as we get closer to Bimini but I’m not sure I trust Windfinder’s information any more. I feel terrible for any smaller boats that are trying to cross today.

The route across apparently took us directly through a shipping channel as well. Massive freighters loomed on the horizon around us. From a distance they appear to move very slowly, but most cargo ships average over twenty knots, that’s more than double our speed. Needless to say, we didn’t play chicken and gave them the right of way. With some cargo ships reaching lengths of over a thousand feet, I’m sure the waves didn’t affect them as much as they did us.

Moving around during the crossing was nearly hopeless, but luckily, there are handrails throughout the boat. Keeping a low center of gravity is the only way to not get thrown by the huge waves. It’s also the only way to combat sea sickness as Julia found out by lying starfish-style on the aft deck after losing her breakfast. Sitting and staying is definitely the safest plan. Using the bathroom was a… unique experience to say the least. I’ll spare the details.

The waves continued to assault us as Bimini came into view. We had planned to fish once we arrived, but after grueling through seven hours of extreme teeter-tottering, that plan was out the window. We headed straight for the marina.

Julia couldn’t wait to get flattened back out, she said the crossing felt like it would never end. Miraculously she recovered as soon as the rocking subsided. We rounded Henry Bank just outside of Alice Town on Bimini and suddenly Julia was standing beside me. I thought she was down for the count but she rallied just in time to help us dock.

Decompressing from our stressful crossing

Tying up Altitude Adjustment to the dock in Bimini differs greatly from my small Jon boat in Chatfield Lake. The tide in Bimini can vary two to three feet so the boat has to be able to raise and lower freely. If the lines are too tight when the tide goes down, ropes can snap and cleats can be ripped off the dock or boat. It’s not fun for anyone. To avoid that we use spring lines. The ropes themselves aren’t stretchy, instead they run diagonally to their cleats and allow the boat to rise and sink freely with the tide. In Colorado I don’t have to worry about any of that.

Water (white), power (yellow), and spring lines (black) on the dock in Bimini

The marina is a nice change of pace from being on anchor constantly. Here we can hook up to water and power similar to an RV park. Hot showers every night are fantastic and being able to go ashore without using the skiff is very convenient. However there is constant boat traffic, lots of bright lights, and loud music late into the night. There are pros and cons no matter where we park.

Dec 28, 2023

My parents have spent so much time in Bimini, it has become their home away from home. The marina we are staying at is closed but they know the owner, Allen, and he gave us the okay to tie up. They met him during their first trip, and over the last few years they traded him fish for a free stay, met his father, who is also Allen, and even helped him build his new house. It’s all about who you know.

Returning to a familiar beach on North Bimini

One of our first priorities is getting some laundry done. There is a washer and dryer on the boat but the capacity isn’t much so towels and blankets have been sorely neglected. We enlisted the help of Pat to drive us over to the laundromat. Pat is a Bimini local and is just about to turn eighty. He’s a little rough around the edges, but over time my parents have grown on him. He usually rents golf carts at the marina but currently all of them are in bad shape. The only one that runs is his personal cart, and it’s barely limping along as it is. My dad and I hopped on and he drove us to drop off our laundry.

Once we came back it was time to scrub. After the crossing the boat was crusted in salt so it needed a rinse. My dad and I were able to stand on the dock and clean more of the gnarliness from the boatyard as well. Unfortunately we were only able to clean one side but we are making progress. While we scrubbed, the rain continually threatened to fall and eventually we started getting wet. Time to let the rain do some of the work.

We took some time to plan our next move as well - Andros here we come. Andros is the largest island in the Bahamas and is also somewhere my parents have not explored so it will be new territory for all of us. To get there, it will take us two days of traveling, one of those nights will be spent on the Great Bahama Bank. It will be our first and, hopefully, only time anchoring without any cover from land. The nice part is that we should only be in about ten feet of water.

Using the charts to plan our next move

Once our laundry was done, we sent Jules and my dad to pick it up, this time Pat just let them borrow his cart. They also stopped by a bakery while they were out and picked up some Bimini bread. The cinnamon raisin is killer and I’m told the coconut bread is just as good, it was still warm when they brought it back to the boat.

Never has clean laundry looked so good

The rain continued to be sporadic into the afternoon. At one point it stopped and we took advantage of the lull to go for a walk around the south end of the island. The waves crashing on the beach and off the point were tremendous! What we crossed in was bad but this was noticeably worse. Huge waves crashed over the sandbar and battered the rocky shoreline. When you’re not caught in the middle of the violent waves they’re actually stunning.

Crashing waves off of Bimini’s coast

In 1997, Hurricane Mitch berated a freighter named Gallant Lady against the iron shore. Her remains have been fighting a losing battle against the saltwater ever since. The rusty skeleton does create a nice contrast against the crystal blue water though. My mom said there is definitely less Gallant Lady than last year.

The Gallant Lady in February (left) versus December (right) 2023

Unfortunately much of our walk was littered with all types of waste. I picked a gallon Ziplock bag off the rocks and used it to collect trash - we filled it instantly. It makes me so incredibly sad. I remember going to the beach as a kid and I swear it never looked like this. I have an immense love for the ocean and marine life and it kills me that we as a species haven’t done something sooner. Today we continue to exacerbate the problem! How long will it be before we can’t fix it? How long until there is more plastic in the ocean than fish? What are we going to eat then, huh?