Last night, there were more than 70 boats anchored in Black Point Harbour. At 6:23am a “friendly” guy in a small open fish came flying through the harbor blaring his music (country, I think, it was so loud our teeth were rattling). It was at that point, we looked at each other and said,”huh, then, “We’re outta here!”
We weren’t the only boat thinking that, as the anchorage dumped probably 30 boats before 0900.
The plan? Let’s head a bit north to a spot called Big Majors, also a popular anchorage, but the thought was maybe, just maybe, they also dumped a batch of boats hopefully headed south. Lotta maybes, so off we went.

So out on the bank we went, and most of the sailors were actually sailing! It was pretty, all the sails. Yep, there were a lot of them. All was fine until an oncoming large catamaran, that was previously not sailing but motoring decided to cut in front of us, now dead in the water as one of at least 6 people on board tried to raise the sail. Another dude was filming with his phone, while a couple of ladies “drove” the boat. We slowed to allow them to pass in front of us, watching this show. I think a couple more were cheering as they then did a 180 and started coming right at us! We gunned it (yea, a trawler doing 6 kts is now trying to do 8) and they all waved, “Sorry!”
Our first thoughts were, yep, there are a lot of boats out here. Heck, you gotta watch for traffic! Traffic?? But we wanted to get away from it all…

Next up was the big turn by Harvey’s Cay where we could finally see Big Majors. If it was okay in there, there would be a lot of water attractions (snorkeling, maybe fishing) nearby, so we could stay a few days to play.

Let’s check that plan. In fact, let’s top off the fuel tanks at Staniel Cay (basically right next door, and they go through a lot of fuel…. good thing) and head out tomorrow away from the Exumas over to Cat Island!

Oops, poor timing, we had to wait / hover / station keep / stay in one place for about an hour while a gentleman with his family watching, ever so slowly filled up their catamaran, using the fuel pump clearly on trickle, then cleaned up, then filled the extra cans with gas for the dinghy. The family just watched.

We finally got our chance, fueled up, asked about a slip for the night or maybe a mooring ball?
We’re on a mooring for the evening, leaving first thing in the morning to cross to Cat Island. We’ll stop in later to see how the traffic is….

Oh, did we mention Staniel Cay is a busy place – big boats, the mail boat/freighter, and an airport. We have to mention the airport (prop jobs – not silent…). And as night fell, one of the nearby mega-yachts is running a big, noisy generator and has a very unhappy infant aboard. Poor little guy.

But as always, the sun is beautiful saying goodnight…

John Anderson’s tune “Swingin'” came to mind over the last few days. My goodness, not sure exactly how bad this cold front was for y’all as it moved through the states, but Lordy, its been a doozy down here. Three days of constant, I mean constant, wind over 15 mph, gusting to more than 30! We are safely anchored and “just-a-swingin'” with numerous other boats in Little Bay off Great Guana Cay. While most of us hunkered down to wait for the winds to pass, a couple of kiteboarders took advantage of the wind for a bit of sport.

His sailboat was anchored near us, which allowed us to catch this great video:

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Mid-afternoon, Lady Eunice, Raging Bull and Patton Pride took their places at the buoy marking the outer starting line. They all have to be anchored, with sail down, before the start. Each boat holds a team of five guys ready to race.

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Party aside, life goes on – the supply/mail boat made another visit, allowing us to secure some fresh produce and a few staples. And then, as the latest cold front made its arrival, the anchorage kicked up, so it was time to retrieve the Lil Filly (dinghy!)

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!

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.

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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.

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Some shots around town (clockwise): Straw Mart market; Government Complex; Almost completed home; Educational Centre; Bible Mission

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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!

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”

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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.

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Experience, life’s best teacher

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!