Sometimes the water is so clear that it’s hard to distinguish where air or water begins.  Here Calypso and one of the kayaks seem to levitate in the air over their shadows.   In actual fact, we were anchored in 7-8 feet.  Making landfall along Exuma Sound, it is sometimes possible to distinguish rocks, coral, and sand patches in almost 100 feet of water… “gin clear” as they say.

Allan’s Cay anchorage – view from Leaf Cay… We left Ship Channel Cay very early – around 7AM – in order to have favorable tide to clear the bar at the entrance of the Ship Channel Cay anchorage (3.5 ft MLW).  It was a short and pleasant sail down to Allans.  We’ve been telling the kids about the iguanas at Allans for a while now – which was suitable incentive for Julian to complete school work promptly!

Iguanas on Leaf Cay with Calypso anchored in the background… Two of the three cays in the Allans group host large populations of iguanas (endangered Bahamian Rock Iguanas).  They greet you as you land on the beach, expecting food.  Julian had a horde of 20 or so performing tricks.

Dinner… We went fishing on the offshore reefs and speared dinner – perfect dinner for two.

February 8, 2010

Black Point, Exuma (Great Guana Cay)

Whoo whoo – kids owe us $1 million.  And they could not be happier.

A quick one . . . Jeremy will post with pictures soon.  We are completely enjoying (luxuriating in, even) our time with Osprey, a boat we first encountered in the ICW just north of Vero Beach.  They have 2 kids aboard, and our kids have found fast buddies.  Life is once again filled with smiles and laughs from Maddie; Julian has a Lego friend.  We have grownups to share trials and tribulations with.  Calypso has been bursting at the seams with 8 for dinner (and empty save for 2 grateful adults) as kids are on the beach or on Osprey.

Many, many cheers – enjoy the snow.

Just a quick thanks to all who are posting comments – it is nice to know the blog is being read and enjoyed . . . we will harvest all email addresses and say hello “in person” at some point, but please know how much we enjoy knowing you are enjoying our adventure!  We know there are many out there silently reading – thank you too – but the comments are pretty neat.

Enjoy your evening . . . we have Thai curry chicken simmering on the stove and the lingering remains of a gorgeous sunset still in the sky.  We raise a glass of rum to you all!

One of the major attractions of the Rock Sound settlement is the large ocean hole on the outskirts of town.  This hole is a couple hundred feet across and connects to the Atlantic Ocean via subterranean passage ways.  Indeed the water is salty and the tide rises and falls in tandem with the ocean.  Reportedly Jacques Cousteau explored for the passage to the ocean from this hole and came up empty.  This hole contains lots of gray snapper which perform for bread crumbs.  We went snorkeling in the hole, feeding the swarm of fish from our fingertips: 

Just south of town is another smaller hole, just off the road, in the woods.  A path led around the perimeter of this hole and off to an amazing cave system:

Caves:

Several more holes abound around the waters of the sound.  This small one is just a few feet from the shoreline and drops to 20+ feet:
 

This one in the anchorage drops to 40+ feet:

We passed over this one with the boat on our way out, and the depth sounder went from 8 feet to off-soundings (our sounder works to 100-200 feet):

Sailing from Eleuthera to the Exumas – across the northern part of Exuma Sound:

At anchor in Ship Channel Cay:

Maddie doing school work:

Looking back at the anchorage from the top of the hill on Ship Channel Cay:

January 27, 2010

Ship Channel Cay, Exumas!

Back in our beloved Exumas after an, umm, interesting night on Monday night.  So I’ll start there, shall I?

On Sunday we explored the ocean hole in Rock Sound, a tidal salt water hole (looks like a Vermont quarry, actually) about 1/2 mile from the ocean.  You can swim with the fish and feed them (I’ll post video at some point).  After we had lunch on board, Jeremy went ashore exploring and found another hole and an amazing cave system.  Then we picked up the hook and headed to the south part of the sound – the wind was supposed to blow from the south and we wanted more protection.

Monday was smooth, with south winds making us smug in our non-pitching anchorage as we looked upwind at the boats off of the town, pitching away.  The winds during the night were supposed to shift to the north, which would make our anchorage less comfortable – but not until 3 am or so.  We elected to stay where we were, preparing mentally for the anchor drill to move the boat sometime after midnight.

Monday night/Tuesday morning, 3:30 am.  Wind still southwest.  We stay put.

4:10 am.  Jeremy gets up, wind is north.  He says, “Let’s go.”

4:20 am.  I am on the foredeck, wrestling with the anchor chain which was not quite ready to be picked up.  I finally resort to clenching a flashlight between my teeth as I work, feverishly waving it up to the heavens when the anchor is off the ground.  The rain begins PELTING, and I am soaked to the bone in a matter of 30 seconds.

5:00 am.  We are in building seas, motoring towards town, laughing about how this is like the south coast of Puerto Rico.  The boat is maybe making 2 knots over the ground, pitching wildly in the steep waves.  I make Jeremy a cup of hot chocolate and crawl under a comforter on the starboard side.

5:30 am.  Winds have calmed down (or we are far enough north in the anchorage to get some calming effects from the land).  I am called up on deck in the still-drizzling rain to drop the hook.

5:40 am.  We crawl back into our bunk for less than an hour of sleep before the weather forecasts lure me out of bed.

7:15 am.  Anchor is picked up under sail as we slowly make our way towards the open Exuma Sound and our passage to the Exumas.

10:30 am.  We are SAILING along under reefed main and reefed jib and staysail, throwing a creamy bow wake and occasionally getting blue water back to the cabin top.  School cannot possibly happen today.

2:30 pm.  We are back on soundings, trying to tempt a fish as we sail along the dropoff by Sail Rocks.  No dice – not even a barracuda nibbled!!!

3:45 pm.  We are scraping bottom paint off on a rock in the channel entrance, getting a sharp reminder of the necessity of dinghy exploring before going in some places.  Tide is rising, though, and we get off the rock relatively easily.  The anchor bites well in sand; Jeremy places the secondary by hand from the dinghy.

Wednesday am – 8 am or so – we emerge from the radio depths and are agape at the beauty here.  Yesterday we had enough visibility to see our surroundings and to read the water; today the sun is GLORIOUS.  There are absolutely no colors like in the Exumas.  Blues, greens, tans and blacks.  The dinghy looks like it is floating on air.  A goat family bleats by on the nearby hillside (like 50 feet away, maybe); an osprey searches for a private place to eat its catch.

Ahhh.

January 22, 2010

Governor’s Harbour, Eleuthera

I am amazed at how easily we are swayed by descriptions written/spoken by others, sometimes to our detriment, and sometimes to our great good fortune.

The main chart books down here are the Explorer Charts, a series of charts (maps for seagoing folk – details are in the water depth as opposed to roads) designed and produced by a couple who were cruising when we were last out here.  They are fabulous charts, including lots of very useful information about the places you might stop.

The rub, or maybe more accurately the caveat, is that the information included (other than water depths) is quite subjective (and not necessarily up-to-date – hardly the fault of the authors, who can’t be expected to get every place in the Bahamas – so we all need to help out!).  A place may be spoken of as “run down and untidy, with pea-green water that does nothing to enhance its appearance.”  We almost didn’t go in there – when we did, we found it to be a well-protected spot, with water color the same as that outside the harbor.  Yes, it is a little decrepit – but I would absolutely love to see what the authors have to say about Florida, say, or the Caribbean.  I also feel a bit sorry for the inhabitants, who may have a lot of cruisers by-passing the spot due to the off-putting nature of the writeup.

A place may also be written up as “charming and picturesque, tidy and welcoming.”  And our experience there was  . . .  a little more down to earth.

So what’s my lesson here?  Decide for yourself what you think of a place, not being swayed one way or another by what someone else has written.  Hard to do often, as we have to limit our anchorage choices due to time or weather.

And then there are the spoken comments.  We are in Governor’s Harbour in large part due to a friendly woman named Sandra who paddled out to see us at anchor in Alabaster Bay.  She is a Canadian transplant who lives much of the time in Governor’s Harbour (which was on our “stop” list anyway).  She raved so much about the community that we DEFINITELY had to stop – and we have been here, the only boat in the harbor, for 3 days.  We are staying through tonight because of the Friday night Fish Fry, which has been mentioned by every single person we have met here, from expat transplants like Sandra to the immigration official, Mr. La Roda, to Waide at the “laundrymat”, to the fisherman on the beach.   We’ll see – so far our extended stay here has led to chance encounters on the beach, a grand time at the library, fresh veg and meat, and a head-shaking sadness that other cruisers are not here as well (the “main” spot in Central Eleuthera is about 15 miles further south, at Rock Sound).

Until next time – likely to be from Rock Sound.

Underway in glassy water from Alabaster Bay to Governor’s Harbour this morning.  The rocky coastline providing scenery that is reminiscent of the Mediterranean.

Underway to Governor's Harbour

Underway to Governor's Harbour

We motored down from Hatchet Bay to Alabaster Bay Eleuthera – in a dead calm.  Explored the reefs, beach, and abandoned US Navy base here ashore.  Onwards to Governor’s Harbour today.

At anchor in Alabaster Bay, Eleuthera