Due to many delays in our journey south including two trips to Bradenton, FL, for doctors appointments and a trip to visit Amy’s mom in Illinois, we started to wonder if we’d ever make it to the Bahamas. We returned to Nancy J in Satellite Beach, just south of Cape Canaveral, on February 13. New friends, Rich and Frankie, on whose dock we were parked, invited us along with neighbors Paul and Jean, for a Valentines Day dinner. We celebrated in grand style with a delicious dinner of grilled chicken and played a rousing game of celebrity. If you don’t know this game, invite Amy over.
The weather the next day was perfect for exiting the tight quarters of the canal where we had been docked. Had the wind been as strong out of the north as it had been, we’d have been pinned against the dock with no maneuvering room. We motored down a series of canals and then out into the Indian River. We ended up in the municipal marina at Vero Beach (aka Velcro Beach). This well-protected mooring field attracts so many cruisers that it is not unusual to double up on a mooring ball. The fee is inexpensive and the facilities are very accommodating giving boaters easy access to the many amenities the town offers.
We were fortunate to be paired up with Josh and Michelle aboard the beautiful Baba 40, Tamboura. Our last visit to Vero back in 2012 was a bit of a disaster. The boat we were paired with had no owner aboard so I had to jump aboard to tie us up. The deck of our “buddy boat” was so cluttered that I tripped and severely hyper flexed my left knee. People on a neighboring boat could hear my agony and offered to let us tie up to them. That injury badgered me for months.
This visit was much better. We got together with old friends Jane and Danny Ferguson and Carol Moran. Jane and Danny gave us a driving tour of the town and invited us over for a cookout. Carol gave us t-shirts out of the shop she manages. We strolled oak-lined streets with fancy homes, through town past upscale shops and onto the beach. On Sunday we checked out the farmers market which was small and expensive. “Velcro Beach” is an apt nickname. It’s would be easy to get stuck there.
After waiting out yet another wicked cold front, we headed to Stuart, one of our favorite places in Florida. We had spent about six weeks there in 2012 while Amy was editing Red Dot on the Ocean. In Stuart, we reconnected with more friends and family: my cousin George, and his wife, Peggy; cruising friends Lou and Jane came up for an evening from Delray Beach; other cruising buddies Kim and Steve, who we met on our first trip to the Bahamas in 2008, met us for brunch one Sunday; new friend Jonathan from Maine, whose island we had visited this summer, stopped by for a happy hour tour of Stuart.
We delayed our departure from Stuart, as Amy flew up to DC to help out her sister, Mary, who was suffering with a bad bout of covid. Fortunately, Mary was up and running again in a matter of days.
After Amy’s return from DC, the weather looked favorable for a passage to the Bahamas. We decided to head down the ICW to Palm Beach and leave for the Abacos out of the Lake Worth inlet. On our last dinghy trip from the marina in Stuart to our mooring, our brand new outboard quit on us. After rowing about a half mile back to Nancy J, I pulled the starter cord again and it fired right up. This gave us pause about whether we should head out the next day or investigate this outboard issue further. We decided it was an anomaly and we’d not change our plans.
Just as we were about to drop the mooring lines and head down the ICW, the Coast Guard announced over the VHF radio that a drawbridge in Jupiter, FL, was broken in the down position and no marine traffic could pass through. There was no word when it might be open again to boat traffic. Facing the prospect of missing a very good weather window for crossing the Gulf stream to the Bahamas, we decided to go out the St. Lucie River inlet and go offshore to Palm Beach. The St. Lucie River inlet can be treacherous due to shifting sand bars. It would be best to exit at high tide and we’d be arriving at dead low. Amy called the local tow boat service for advice and was told that they had pulled a sailboat off the shallows earlier that morning, but with our 5.5 draft, we should be OK if we stayed inside the channel markers. We decided to go for it. We made it out with no problem although we did see 6′ 2″ on the depth finder for a few seconds.
The wind was against us as we made our way south so we opted to motor sail so as not to arrive at the inlet in the dark. The ride into the inlet was quite thrilling as the wind and tide were opposed making for some steep waves. The anchorage was chock full of all manner of boats giving us very little room to anchor in. Fortunately it was a very calm night so no need to be too picky.
Finally on March 16, at first light, we headed out the inlet, Bahamas bound. We were able to sail for a short while, but the wind let up, so we started the engine. It was a thrill to finally cruise onto the Little Bahama Bank after 10 hours of motoring. The deep blue sea gave way to turquoise waters of 10 — 20 feet. Dazzling. Then the sun set and the horizon melted away. The stars peeked out between clouds. We continued motoring across the bank until 1 a.m. where we dropped anchor off of deserted Great Sale Cay. We slept for six hours and were off again headed for Green Turtle Cay, where we planned to clear customs and immigration.
The wind was up and we sailed swiftly and joyfully over the mesmerizing multi-hued waters along with a few other boats. When the wind picked up even more, we reduced sail. Amy made many calls over the VHF radio to find a mooring or dock at Green Turtle Cay, but there was nothing available, so we anchored a few miles away off of the Treasure Cay airport. It should have been a joyful moment, but Amy was suffering from a stomach ache and the weather forecast was calling for cold fronts with high winds. A shadow of stress fell over us. It was St. Patty’s day, so we tried to make merry by sharing a Guinness and listening to Irish music.
The following day our attempt to clear in was delayed as the customs officer had not yet arrived at the office. As we contemplated our next move, we learned from other sailors that NOW was a perfect time to run the notorious Whale Cay passage, which can be treacherous in if high winds and tides are opposing. We knew we could clear in at Marsh Harbour on Great Abaco, so we joined the fleet of cruisers and made our way around Whale Cay to the southeast. It was another day of 20 knot winds, but it was in the right direction and we sailed briskly toward Marsh Harbor. Amy’s tummy was feeling better and the anchorage in Marsh Harbour would provide good protection in blows in from any direction. After rounding the Whale our stress melted away into pure bliss.
(continued by Amy)
Arriving in Marsh Harbour, we quickly spotted Windfall, the boat of our friends, Raffi and Lisa. A welcome sight indeed. We set our anchor nearby. Party time! But first we had to complete the customs and immigration formalities. We lowered the dinghy and went ashore. The custom building is just a stone’s throw from the public dinghy dock. Inside we found ourselves in a narrow, barren foyer, with a locked door, and a blacked-out bank teller type window with a slot at the bottom. After a few moments a man emerged from behind the door. He took a printout of the form we filled out on-line with all of our details and disappeared back behind the door. There was only one chair in the foyer so I grabbed one out of an adjacent room, which was empty apart from and old desk and piles of papers around the perimeter of the room. We sat in silence wondering what would come next.
Eventually we head a voice behind the blacked out teller window asking us to pay the requisite $300 for entry and fishing permit. I put my credit card through the slot. A receipt was passed back. I returned to my chair to wait. We weren’t sure if we were finished and should move on to immigration, or if there were more formalities. Then the man who first took our papers came back and said that the online form was incomplete. It only had Kenny’s name on it and not mine. The online form was not user friendly, so I guess I had failed to “save” after entering my name. “Can we add that now,” I asked. “Yes,” he replied, issuing me into the inner sanctum. Inside were a total of four disgruntled civil servants each at their own desk, some wearing earbuds. None of them looked up at me as I gazed around the room. The torpor was palpable. I followed the man to his beat-up desk and stood next to it while he got on the computer. Then he stood up and offered me his chair. “You want me to fill it in?” I asked. He nodded his head. I sat down and filled in all the missing information. “Thank you for letting me do this,” I added. I meant it. Why not cut to the chase rather than relaying the information to him and watch him type? Maybe he wasn’t a good typist.
I thought we’d have to go to immigration next, but an immigration officer showed up at the customs house and helped us fill out the standard forms. Then she said, “That will be $50 cash.” I was 99% sure, that there was not supposed to be any charge, and that only credit cards were to be used in these situations, but not wanting to make a scene I handed it over. She said she’d email us a receipt. It never came. Kenny asked the officer where we could find the Aliv office to purchase Bahamian SIM cards. She explained the closest Aliv office was actually in a car parked on the side of the road and told us how to find it. “Thank you.”
We walked about a mile and came upon an empty lot with small white car with “Aliv” emblazoned on its side. Next to it was a table with two chairs. As we approached, I thought the woman inside the car, might get out and sit behind the table to help us, but she just sat tight in the driver’s seat. She opened the car door and I maneuvered one of the chairs around to face her with the table at my back. Kenny drew up the other chair next to mine. She seemed less than thrilled to be doing business with us, but she was efficient.
We took our U.S. SIM cards out of our phones and replaced them with the Aliv ones she handed over, being careful not to drop anything in the dirt. It was windy and we were performing these delicate maneuvers on our laps. It was pretty comical. We tested the new system and it worked. I think it’s a matter of pride for Bahamians in certain occupations to appear bored out of their wits. I finally said something to eek a smile out of the young woman working with us. The next day we went back to purchase another SIM card for our wifi hotspot. I asked the woman who now had another colleague with her, if I could take their photo. They kindly obliged and offered big smiles to the camera.
(continued by Kenny)
A cold front blew through that night making for a noisy night. The next morning, with the wind still gusting in the upper 20 knot range, Amy heard shouting nearby. I went out to look and found a 40 something foot powerboat anchoring way too close to Nancy J. Amy called the captain on the VHF and was told he would only be there a short while to do some repairs. He said only one engine was working and he had no electric power. A minute later he dragged anchor onto our bow. On top of all his boat issues, he was single-handing. As I ran forward to try and fend him off, Amy got on the VHF radio and alerted other boats in the harbor as to our situation. Within a minute, a posse of dinghies appeared to assist in any way possible.
One gal got aboard to help the power boater while others assisted me at the bow of Nancy J. Raffi took his tender, which was a rather large fiberglass skiff, off the stern as it was fishtailing all over the place and about to smack the side of our boat. The major concern was that his propeller may have caught our anchor chain. Soon after, the lame vessel was able to get enough power to move away to a safer location. Mission accomplished and no damage or physical injuries to anyone. Thank god for the kindness of strangers. Boaters are particularly helpful and generally come to the aid of their comrades.
This event encouraged us to seek a marina for the next big blow. We just wanted to relax and not have to worry about getting hit or dragging anchor ourselves. We found a slip in nearby Hope Town on Elbow Cay. It was way too expensive for our liking but we needed a “vacation.” The wind howled but we were secure. I only had one mishap there in that I caught my leg between the lifelines jumping from the high dock to the low cabin top. Ouch!
(Continued By Amy)
Hope Town is about the cutest little town in all of the Abacos. It boasts a candy-striped lighthouse, tidy brightly painted clapboard houses, flowers galore and a beautiful oceanside beach. It’s a very well-to-do place made up largely of second homes for wealthy foreigners.
On a beautiful sunny morning we moved out of the fancy-dancy marina onto a mooring ball in the tightly packed Hope Town harbor. We hiked out to On de Beach, a restaurant that sits on a small bluff overlooking the multicolored waters, and lunched in the company of other cruisers. We all sat at the ocean-facing bar and chatted about boaty things. On the way back to Nancy J, I purchased Pina Colada ingredients, and made drinks for us to take on the dinghy as we explored the shallow waterways extending out from the harbor.
After our boozy dinghy tour, we retired to Nancy J for naps in the cockpit. It was one of those perfectly glorious, carefree, paradisiacal days. Just as we were drifting into blissful slumber, the boat swung violently around on her mooring and then BANG! Suddenly wide awake, we jumped up and rushed forward to find a huge chartered catamaran pinned against our bow. They’d caught our mooring line on their keel and caused us to slam into their starboard side. The captain managed to extricate himself after a minute of back and forth, then continued to motor at high speed through the mooring field among the shouts and jeers of the other boaters. Unable to find a mooring he pulled up to a dock at the marina.
Examining our bow we found the pulpit bent, the bow roller cracked, and another piece of metal supporting the bow sprit deformed. We lowered the dinghy back into the water and went over to the marina to get their insurance information. The wife of the captain tried to keep us at bay, but we were persistent. She heard me mumble an aside to Kenny as we were going to park the dinghy and come up on the dock. “What did you say?” she barked. “I said, you don’t seem very remorseful.” “Remorseful? We said we were sorry! What do you want us to do? Cry?” I just shook my head in disbelief.
Standing on the dock next to the boat, the captain finally emerged and slowly started providing the pieces of information we requested. The wife continued to be rude, trying to shoe us away. I said, “We’ll just stay here til we get everything we need.” Mild-mannered Kenny couldn’t hold back anymore and told the woman, “I don’t like your attitude.” The captain never apologized, but finally we got all the names and insurance company details we needed and made our exit. The next day was spent making all the requisite phone calls to our insurance company and Moorings charters and various witnesses. We’ve decided to wait until we’re back in the Annapolis area to get an estimate and have the repairs done. Hopefully GEICO will recover all the repair expenses from the offending boat’s insurance company.
Since then we’ve had no collisions, but are ever vigilant. After two boat run-ins and two car accidents (one in our car and another in a rental) all in the space of a couple of months, we’re beginning to wonder if someone has cast a spell on us. At least we can say, none of the accidents were our fault and no one was hurt, except the poor deer that rammed into the side of our Subaru. But even he galloped off.
On our previous trips to the Bahamas we’ve visited multiple islands (there are about 1000 of them), but this time we’ve limited ourselves to the Abacos, the northern-most. They are a bit more developed than many of the islands and full of tourists. They are populated by the descendants of enslaved people from West Africa and Loyalists who fled the colonies during the American Revolution. Much of the Abacos were completely devastated by Hurricane Dorian in 2019. The category 5 storm hovered over great Abaco for 48 hours, destroying everything in its path. It is the most intense hurricane on record to hit the Bahamas. Every resident has a story about how they weathered the storm, holding up babies in attics over the rising water; being rescued by neighbors on boats… The locals have done an amazing job of building back, and in some places like Hope Town, you’d never even know there had been a storm.
We arrived late in the season (mid-March) and decided not to kill ourselves trying to visit multiple islands and have contented ourselves to remain in the Abacos. Much of the time we’ve spent with our friends, Raffi and Lisa on Windfall. It’s been the windiest winter in the Bahamas in 30 years, and there haven’t been a lot of good weather windows to go far afield. Even on very windy days, the Sea of Abaco allows for delightful sailing as it is ringed by islands, so the waves don’t get very large. And it’s only a few hours of navigating before you come to the next island or anchorage.
Each place offers something unique. Marsh Harbour, the largest town in the Abacos, offers a protected anchorage and well-stocked stores. Treasure Cay has a white sandy crescent shaped beach and the best cinnamon buns outside of Cinnabon; Nippers on Great Guana encouragers heavy drinking and offers a Sunday pig roast with overpriced food and drink and surly servers, but with a bluff-top view of multi-hued waters that cannot be beat; Tilloo Cay has a peaceful anchorage in easterly blows and is the site of cartoonist Gary Larson’s former vacation home; Tahiti Beach is a beautiful protected spot with extended shallows and sand bars, delightful for wading or swimming. Sandy Cay is an uninhabited island with a great reef for snorkeling. Sadly we saw few fish the day we went and much of the coral is dead, but the elk horn coral seems to be still thriving.
We even made new friends – Bill and Troy on the catamaran, Pink Moon. Bill’s late wife was from Newfoundland, so I shared with them the link to the short documentary we made sailing in Newfoundland in 2009. Bill actually new someone in the video! We became almost instant friends and they invited us on a road trip with them to the southern end of Great Abaco, where the destruction line of the hurricane was very apparent. For miles there were only stumps of trees, and then suddenly tall growth again.
April 19 is Nancy J’s (the real one aka “MumZ”) birthday, so Kenny suggested I fly to Chicago and surprise her. We had a wonderful celebration with my sisters Molly and Mary. At 97, MumZ is still full of joie de vivre!
Now back in Marsh Harbour, our cruising friends have moved on and we too will soon start heading westward back to Florida and points north. We’ll miss these dazzling waters, but are looking forward to seeing friends and family and heading up to Newfoundland this summer! We are so lucky.
Addendum
We caught up with our friends Bill and Troy in Green Turtle Cay. They invited us to feed squid to turtles and rays at a beach known for the activity. Even though it’s a bit naughty to feed wild animals, we couldn’t resist the opportunity to get so close to these sea creatures. Turtles are normally so shy, they disappear as soon as they see you. While we were enjoying this wildlife encounter, an American ex-pat emerged out of the bush and told us to cease and desist our activity, as the squid can also attract sharks and she wanted to go for a swim. We obliged her and Troy and I also went for a swim followed for a bit by our turtle and ray friends. There have been some shark attacks in the Abacos in recent years, but usually in cases where people were fishing and swimming in close proximity.
In order to get to Green Turtle Cay from the more southerly Abaco Islands, where we’d been hanging out, it was necessary to navigate back around Whale Cay. It requires leaving the sea of Abaco for a brief time and braving the Atlantic Ocean. The waters go from depths of thousands of feet then crash into reefs sending spray high into the air to land in two-digit depths. Needless to say the seas in this area can be treacherous and it is only advised to traverse Whale Cay cut (the narrow passage between reefs or islands) in calm conditions. A few weeks ago a sailboat attempted to navigate the cut when seas were running high and breaking. Their vessel broached and sunk. All three crew members were flung into the sea. All were rescued. The boat still lies at the bottom somewhere off of Whale Cay.
The day we rounded Whale Cay was a bit more lively than we anticipated. As we headed into the open ocean a couple waves of at least eight feet greeted us. Nancy J climbed gracefully up and scooted down the other side. Most of the waves were closer to five feet and none were breaking accept over the surrounding reefs and rocks. We made the trip without a hitch, though it did require full concentration to avoid rocks and other vessels. On either side of the cut waves smashed into the rocks sending white spray into the air. One catamaran approaching from the opposite direction heading for the cut was corkscrewing and taking green water over its bows. Another charter catamaran navigating toward the cut was full to the brim with people, several of whom were sitting on the trampoline in the forward part of the vessel. I couldn’t help but issue a gentle warning over the VHF radio to approach the Whale Cay cut with extreme caution. It seems everyone made it through that day without incident.
Tomorrow we plan to continue island-hopping our way to the west. In about a week, weather permitting, we’ll cross over the Little Bahama Bank and back into Gulf Stream, that magic flying carpet of northbound current. We’re aiming for landfall at Cape Canaveral, but if conditions are favorable and we’re feeling energetic, we might just keep trucking north.