From Meeks Patch, we cruised through the narrow Current Cut to get to the west side of Eleuthera proper. From there, it is an easy two-hour cruise down the island to Glass Window.
In our travels last year, the weather and/or our schedule didn’t afford us the opportunity to venture over to Glass Window. We only saw it from a distance. This time, all was in our favor to cruise over for an overnight stop.
On a random side note, as we cruise, we enjoy seeing the houses perched on the islands. This one caught our attention – a tidy little Cape Cod, huh?
Back to the topic at hand, the Glass Window Bridge – considered one of the narrowest parts of the world! The ocean blasted through the islands a long time ago, but in 1895 there was still a natural bridge, as captured by Winslow Homer (below).
Upon approach, you can still see the lower remains of the original natural bridge and the simple man-made replacement. You can also see the mighty, deep blue Atlantic beyond. Kind of peaceful, right?
Yes, those are people on the left side of the bridge. That will be us in a few hours! 
A pause to marvel at the powerful view (and get a video), before moving just a tad south to anchor
Regarding the peacefulness, looks, as always, can be deceiving.
Once anchored, we took the dinghies to the beach, climbed a small hill south of the Window, crossed the road, and found ourselves at the entrance to the Queen’s Hot Tubs and Bath, which is a short mile or so from the bridge on the Queen’s Highway.
It was fairly blustery, but there was a family visiting and a couple actually sitting in one of the natural “hot tubs.” The shallow water in the “tub” is warmed by the sun, and the ocean is about 50 feet below!
…and a short walk over the rocks to the larger area of the Queen’s Bath. Large pools fed by the ocean!
But this wasn’t the day to enjoy them, that’s for sure!
We watched the waves crash for ages, and then it was photo opp time so we could move on. After all, we still hadn’t made it to the actual bridge.
After getting the group selfie using the camera timer, we traded cameras to get couple shots. Each photographer snapped loads of them, hoping to catch the other couple with a large wave crashing in the background.
Got a good one of Terry & Lynn
And we’re sharing this string (from the 19 or so options) because of the ending, which Susie mentioned deleting, but Todd said, “No; use it!”
Tiny shell contest!
On the way back to the road, we discovered something amazing – small shells. We’re talking VERY small…and perfect. The hunt was on!
(That’s an old reference. Wonder who’ll get it?)
We spent a long time scraping through the shells looking for the best specimens. The ladies would have stayed for hours had we not still needed to make the walk to the bridge. This was fun!
They finally agreed to call it so we could dust off our backsides and hit the road for the bridge.
Boys will be boys
When you get almost to the bridge, there’s a unique blowhole.
For some reason, it looked drilled into the rock. Not a natural feature but fun, nonetheless.
We finally made it to the bridge.
“What a view!,”
As we said, that’s the calm sound side. Meanwhile, Todd climbed up a craggy point to film the other side of the bridge, where ocean chaos ensues!
Although it’s a two-lane road, after the bridge was shifted by a huge storm and rogue wave, crossing is only a single lane for traffic (and tourists…) Like every attempt to capture the ferocity of the ocean, timing is everything, and our pictures just don’t do it justice. And to think, this was a mildly riled ocean. Those interested check this news footage from a few years ago. It was fun to see and we’d love to see it on a completely calm day. We will be back!
Oh, about that Tiny Shell Contest.
And a last anecdote: Susie had the shells (she’d carried around all afternoon) rinsed and laid out on the galley counter to get photos, make sure they were dry, etc. During the night, she was awakened by a strange, soft sound, like something falling to the teak floor. After hearing the sound several times, she went to investigate. When she stepped from the stateroom to the area at the bottom of the stairs near the engine room door, she stepped ON something in the dark. Uh oh. FLIP on the lights! Indeed, one of those tiny “shells” had crawled to the edge of the galley counter, fallen to the floor, made a poor choice of direction and crawled to the stairway, and fallen stair by stair to the lower level. Poor little thing. Ultimately, he then went flying and swimming. (“They’re coming to get you, Barbara.” There’s another old reference. Who’ll get that one?)
Our Travels 