It may sound kind of silly for a retired couple living on a boat and cruising the Bahamas to require R&R, but after our harrowing experience, it was definitely needed. The weather has allowed us to stay comfortably anchored in Black Point Harbour for a few days. Our muscles and psyches have healed. Todd again dove to inspect the boat for any damage (she’s nicked, but nothing to worry about), we dried and stowed the many emergency lines, scrubbed the decks and cleaned the hull. But it can’t be all work and no play. Time to relax and explore!
First up: Happy Hour at Scorpio’s, where the local children certainly took a liking to Todd. They danced together and then engaged in a bit of “stealing noses.” We moved to a patio table for a few rounds of BINGO (where one of the children even pulled up a chair to assist before his mother pulled him back inside to help her). Alas, we were close, but no winnings for the Olsens.
Next up, time for some exploration. With Madeleine from Chanceaux, we walked from the harbor side to the ocean side for a few hours of beach combing.
A big blow hole at low tide! You can see the spewed sand all around it.!And a rock tunnel!
As we explored along the beach and ironshore, we spotted these odd-looking prehistoric guys. Looked them up later to learn they are Chitons. They stick and move along the rock eating algae.
Sea Beans! A Sea Heart (top) and a couple of palm seed sea beans. Lucky day!
After a few hours of fun in the sun, time for the long walk back. Look, the mail boat is at the dock. Perhaps they’ve unloaded some fresh produce and/or eggs.
Susie & Madeleine making the warm return hikeSupply boat
Some shots around town (clockwise): Straw Mart market; Government Complex; Almost completed home; Educational Centre; Bible Mission
We didn’t find produce or eggs. (Perhaps on tomorrow’s boat.) One more thing to do to complete this day of fun. Get in the water! The water is warmer here, above 80! After lunch and rehydration time, we located a spot for some great snorkeling. We found a shallow little bay with aquarium-clear water and lots of juvenile tropical fish! Such a colorful variety. Might be time for Todd to rig up his underwater camera!
Beautiful cruising in the dinghyTodd added to a small rock stackFinding conch shells along the little island. Look at that water!
Speaking of conch, inquiring minds would like to know, just how long does it take for already harvested conch shells to turn brown/black and become one with the rock? Because these are “welded” into the “rock”
During our play time on the beach, someone (Susie) decided that small mangrove would make a great backdrop for one of our long-distance “selfies,” wherein Todd carefully positions/balances the camera somewhere (in this case, on a rock), sets the timer function, and dashes over to join in the shot.
Are they…dancing?? Nope. Just didn’t quite make it. (Definitely need to select a closer rock platform.)Close (Let’s try one more time from a closer rock.)Almost perfect! (No one’s tripped yet. Let’s quit while we’re ahead.)
This and the spiky rocks in the photo of Todd with the conch shell are good examples of ironshore. Hence the need for rugged shoes to walk the beach.
The catamaran that anchored with us the first night left during the day, so we were alone the second night.
Experience, life’s best teacher
High tide rushed in from the cut (inlet)Remember those?Landed here
After our exploratory play time, sunset and a nice dinner, it looked like a storm might be heading our way, so we closed hatches, etc. and tucked in. About 2100, the winds really picked up and the incoming tide pushed a strong current through the cut on the far side of our little anchorage. It pushed and pushed, and we heard it until…anchor alarm! Yep, our well-buried anchor began to drag, and we were being pushed back. Remember those rocks to our stern? Uh-oh. We had no choice here but to weigh anchor, reposition, and drop it again, in the dark. Deep breaths. We pulled up the anchor and got away from the large rocks at our stern easily enough but didn’t get repositioned to drop the anchor before the current grabbed her and pushed us, sideways and slightly forward, onto an underwater bank literally right in front of the ironshore just beside the little beach. Our bow stopped about 6′ from the ironshore! Luckily, a Bahamian who normally keeps his 70′ sailboat moored in our little spot saw our lights move and came out in his really large rib (like 24′) to investigate and lend a hand. He also happens to do salvage, and while we didn’t need that, we most certainly did need his local knowledge, skillset, and assistance. Todd dove several times to assess the situation, which was bad but not as dire as it might sound. SaltyMare is a tough gal, and her drive train is fully protected by an extended keel. Yes, we were aground and sideways to the current that was pushing us against that submerged bank which wasn’t all sand but wasn’t ironstone. The tide was still coming in; we’d get more water to float off, but the strong current would still push us. Our fully protected keel was doing its job – protecting. The “uphill” starboard stabilizer fin was on the bottom but in sand and undamaged. Most importantly, our bow was wedged securely on a smooth basketball-sized rock that was keeping us from moving any further forward into the ironstone! Praise the Lord! The tricky part was that the incoming tide would indeed float us off, but we would then be free to get pushed by the still-rushing current up that not so soft hill beside us and worse still maybe forward against the ironshore! So, we had to somehow anchor/secure the boat before the water floated us off that little rock. Todd and our angel, Elie, lowered our 55 kg (120 lb) anchor into the front of his rib and while letting out chain (that weighs 1.6 lbs per foot!) they took the anchor out about 250 ft perpendicular to the boat and dropped it. Then they took our other anchor (only 90 lbs) off its chain and attached it to the longest line we own (400 ft), then attached it to our stern and hauled it also straight out away from the boat. So now we had two points holding us so that as we rose with the remaining tide we wouldn’t move sideways “up” that hill or forward into real damage. A nervous two-hour wait, now around midnight, sure enough, she floated off the little rock and we began to see the depth rapidly change as she began to float – 4.5 ft. 5 ft. 8 ft! – and more importantly the current was about slack. Quick! Hand-over-hand, heave on those lines. We strained and pulled her by hand sideways away from that underwater hill and most importantly that terrible rock ironshore. 15 ft! Yes, we’re safe in 15 feet of water! For the time being… Who could sleep?? But just in case, we set an alarm for the tide change at 0600 because that would reverse everything, and we would have to get in the dinghy and move the “lighter” anchor. Then we could wait for the high tide (about noon) so we could figure out how to retrieve the anchors, get them back on the windlass, and get the heck out of Dodge.
Three hours sleep
A harrowing experience
Cool heads prevail
An adventurous tale to relive in our golden years
You betcha! Just another day, night, in the life of liveaboard cruising. Oh and this spot had no roosters!
Where we anchored Saturday night on the west side of Pipe Cay turned out to be quite rolly (is that a word?). There were five sailboats and a cat in there with us, all bobbling. Although the winds were predominantly from the east, there was a swell coming from the south that wrapped around the point to hit everyone broadside. So, in the morning, we launched the dinghy to scout out a new location. Just as soon as the dinghy splashed into the water, a nurse shark showed up to check it out. I’d already put the camera in the dry bag, so Todd quickly grabbed the phone to capture the image below before the about 5-footer lost interest and lazily swam away. After exploring the nearby cays, circling, and reading depths, we found our new spot and dropped a pin on the Lat and Long. Time to go get the SaltyMare.
No handouts here, buddyOn watch, Caribbean OspreyRight here – mark it!
Rather than taking the time to put the dinghy up top, we opted to tow it to the new spot. Goodbye, bobbing sailboats. We’re outta here. Hang on, Lil Filly!
The new location was not something we ever would have chosen based on charts or VPR (Visual Piloting Rules), i.e. use your eyes. The color of the water and the currents tell you a lot, like hey, knucklehead, don’t go there, etc. But we had carefully charted out a path in the dink and confirmed it on the charts once back aboard the Mare. Time to put on our big-boy trunks and be brave. We followed the deeper blue path to a small opening that crosses a layer of submerged rock to the right of those visible in the distance. Yes, rock.
And, yes, that openingSlide right past those rocksRight therePast that oddly flat pool caused by the flowing tideTake it slowly. Slowly. Whew. Steady on… Susie, you should breathe now.
All in all, we anchored in an absolutely ideal spot where the swirling currents flow around us but don’t roll us. We are snuggled in a small area between a nice house on Little Pipe Cay (left photo below) and a tiny unnamed cay with a beautiful setup – dockage, multiple houses, and their own beach (right photo).
As we swing with the tides, the private beach comes within ~100′Beautiful, wonder if they rent it?
With the anchor set securely (checked and it’s buried! yeah!) and the water temp over 80, it was definitely time for some snorkeling. Let’s check things out near the boat!
Just as we were wrapping up our swim, a huge Eagle Ray cruised over. He swam right past Todd, who was fortunate enough to still be in the water. By the time I got the camera, he was headed on his merry way. Perfect end to a fun day!
But, actually, I have to end this post with a different tale. We took advantage of the slack tide to swim and snorkel in our beautiful little anchorage. When I tired, I enjoyed one more lap around, then headed to the swim platform ladder, past the lone little fish still hanging out back there, and popped my head up out of the water to find…a gift. I felt like a school girl who’d just been presented a flower. What a fun surprise!
A gift, Honey, but about that stainless polishing??
Exuma or “the Exumas” stretch more than 100 miles and count more than 365 in number. The biggest cay is Great Exuma down near the bottom of the chart (yeah, hard to show the full expanse of them). The red box roughly shows the Exuma Cays Land and Sea Park. Established in 1958 (a fine year for Todd) as one of the first such parks in the world. A small group of naturalists sought to save a chunk of this beautiful area from developers. Lead by, ready for this, the grandson of Leonard Tolstoy, the famed Russian author, the group was successful in getting the government to establish the Bahamas National Trust and then the Park (all 176 square miles of it).
You can see where we are (red arrow) and all the little marks we created based on talking to our experienced cruising friends. Anchorages, a good snorkel/dive spot, and even a must go area where supposedly even Todd can catch a fish! But with all those islands and area there is just so much to explore, it will take years to even scratch the surface. (Honey, we are never moving off the boat.) The off-white is very deep water, think 3000 plus! The light blue is shallow (from about 50 on down). The tides move in and out of all the spaces between all those yellow islands, so we have to be mindful of the current flow. As far as settlements, the story is fairly familiar. The Spanish, after Columbus in 1492, brought smallpox and a need for slaves and salt. Unfortunately, because of that, from the middle 1500s to the middle 1600s it was pretty quiet around here; there just wasn’t anybody left. Then came the pirates. They seemed to like the Bahamas, basically empty islands. Nassau was the real hang in the early 1700s – you’ve heard of the main dude, Edward Teach (Blackbeard) – and the Exuma’s were the backyard hideouts. Finally in 1718, the English King granted the first real governorship, and Woodes Rogers did a good job rounding up the pirates and establishing order. For us, Exuma is just a really big bunch of islands surrounded by beautiful water. Let’s go exploring!
Settled in and watching our first sunset off of Pipe Cay in the Exumas (as a nearby cruiser returns to their sailboat from their own explorations)
We left Eleuthera to move south and over to the Exumas. Timing the tides, we safely slipped by our anchorage mates at 0512, in the dark, with radar-a-whirling. Several squiggly turns and then straight across, followed by a bunch more squiggly turns; for a journey of about 54 nautical miles.
After the first bunch of squiggles in the pitch black, the sun rose as we passed by the lower reverse “ↄ” arm of Eleuthera with a perfect picture-postcard view. Sun’s up, let’s throw a line out! Cross your fingers for Surf & Turf for dinner baby!
About a third of the way across we saw what we at first thought was a really BIG, black dolphin. It was so big, however, we think it may have been a Dense beak or Blainesville beaked whale. It didn’t jump like this internet picture, but it was much bigger than a dolphin. (We didn’t see it long enough to get our own photo. Rats!)
Very shortly after seeing the big fellow, we spotted a frenzied commotion off to port where large, fat fish (foot long plus) were literally jumping out of the water. How much easier could this get, right? We came off course and headed right over. ZING! Yes! We hooked something, and I brought her around so Todd could reel it in. We ended up making a Crazy Ivan circle before the “something” broke the line. UGH. Alas, only “turf” on the grill tonight!
Cross your fingers Over there! No over there!
Of course Todd would choose Conch Cut for our entrance to the Exumas. He’s a Key West conch head!
There’s a fascinating circular hole in that rock Passing through Conch Cut to starboard
Through the cut and tada, into the jewel-toned waters of the Exumas! Ready for more sun and, hopefully warmer water (gauge reads 80ish). Right after we anchored, we were “greeted” by a large ray slowly swimming lazy circles in the clear water alongside the boat.
Our Travels 