Most of our cruising is in open water, so on the days where we need to cut through a narrow gap between islands, careful timing and a bit more diligence is needed. Thursday was one of those days, as we moved north from Alabaster Bay back through Current Cut to return to our “friend” Meeks Patch in the top part of Eleuthera. This was a 4-hour, 33 nautical mile run. Besides being slowed by a not very friendly underpowered sailboat who crept through the cut at less than 4 knots, it went well.
With hopes of making the big crossing to Abaco Saturday or Sunday, we did some provisioning – groceries, gasoline for the dinghies, even moseyed over to the St. Georges Power Station and took on some diesel for the big girls.
Friday morning, we decided to stretch our legs and check out The Bluff, the northernmost settlement on Eleuthera proper.
The northernmost town on the island of Eleuthera doesn’t get many cruisers but is a productive area. We saw all kinds of folks working, mowing lawns, clearing a lot, even a couple of guys building a concrete block house/building.
Given the recent rains, the landscape was lush, with everything coming into bloom, including a gigantic mango tree loaded with small mangoes!
We discovered last year that the one thing we really miss while cruising isn’t cheeseburgers (sorry, Jimmy). It’s ice cream. It’s just too impractical to try to get it to the boat. There’s an ice cream shop in New Bight on Cat Island, but they’d sold out over the Easter holiday. There’s an ice cream shop in Spanish Wells, very near the grocery store where we just provisioned, but it is only open after 7pm, which seems a bit goofy. Most cruisers are back on their boats before dark and asleep by 0900. (That might be a slight exaggeration but not by much.)
At any rate, imagine our delight when we stumbled on an ice cream shop while wandering around in The Bluff. Yippee Skippy! Nobody get in the way. We’re going in! We get to the door, and… it’s locked. The Open sign taunts us, but the place is closed up tight. Oh no-o-o. Thinking perhaps it was just too early, we decided to find lunch and try again afterwards.
We asked a young man out working on a water line where we might be able to get a bite, and he recommended “Island Style,” owned by Fortune, just up the block. Lucky us. Turns out we were indeed lucky. Edward, who goes by the nickname Fortune, was just opening up. The ribs and fixin’s were outstanding and the most reasonably priced meal we’ve had in the Bahamas. We chatted with Fortune and a couple of locals during lunch, and all said the owner of the ice cream shop had most likely run to the shopping center for something and should return soon.
After lunch we went back to the ice cream shop with an anticipatory skip in our step to find… there was still no one there. We knocked. We shaded our eyes to peer in the windows like children. (Please, please, can we have some ice cream.) A man across the street told us, “She’s probably gone to the shopping center to get something; she should be back soon.” Ugh.
Disappointed we began making our way back to the dinghy. Along the way, we passed a colorful hair salon. Hey, a haircut would be almost as good as ice cream. Almost. Susie decided she’d go for it. The sign said Open. Guess what? Locked. No one there. (Perhaps she was at the shopping center with the owner of the ice cream shop.) Island time… all this was basically around noon….
Time to untie the Lil Filly (dinghy) and dash back home.
Mission Update
Weather. Yeah, always a consideration. Saturday/Sunday the window was open, but really only cracked a bit. One of those moments where “living on a boat” and “having a schedule” don’t mix very well. Unfortunately, looking out a week the weather “window” would be closed. So early (0800) Saturday morning we left Meeks Patch, swooped through Egg Island cut out to the North Atlantic for the crossing to the Abacos. Ocean passages mean “throw a line out – possible fresh catch for dinner!” Alas, to no avail, too much sargassum lent to reeling in the bait, clearing the “grass” from it, repeat. Ocean fish don’t eat grass.
Several days ago, our autopilot “died,” so we’ve been hand driving since the bottom of Cat Island. Not bad on a two- to three-hour hop; darn tedious on this 60 nm, 8-hour slog. This crossing was a chore.
But we completed the passage without incident! (Or fish.) Important, because this was the fateful leg last year where the ‘Mare was wounded. (“Wounded, you say?” We lost the engine! The brand new 2022 model is doing great.)
So, with that last crossing behind us and 264 nautical miles completed, with a little more than a week to go til Susie’s flight, we can take the foot off the pedal. The last 20-30 miles will be easy peasy. Long post…. long way.
Look how close we are to that star!
Our Travels 