Author: equinoxgardens@gmail.com

We hired a pilot from Spanish Wells to take us east across the Devil’s Backbone on Monday, and Andy enjoyed his stories as we wound our way through the dangerous coral heads that give the passage its name. Some heads are easily identified in contrast to the white sand surrounding them, but there is a section where everything seems to blend together, and it’s this half of the trip that markets the value of a local hand at the helm.

Once safely out of the stretch, he jumped back into his boat and sped away, leaving us to find our home for the week. We’re waiting for favorable winds for an easy trip northwest to the Abacos, and it’s looking like Saturday at this point. We’re anchored in between two marinas, and between the mega-yachts coming in and out and the water taxis moving back and forth across the bay all day long, it’s the best ‘TV’ we’ve seen in a while.  We’re also enjoying the routine of sameness of space- exploring different streets, shops (always on the hunt for fresh produce!), people and scenes every trip ashore we make, especially as comparing it to our last trip here, sans boat, in 2003.

In short, a lot has changed, but the overarching scene of an island maintained for moneyed Americans remains the same. Lots of crisp, clean storefronts, pink shorts and neatly-tended cottages and properties are as sweet and charming and as polished as the vacationers likely anticipate, but it doesn’t quite belie what we’ve come to know as typical Bahamian. One MAJOR difference for us are the ‘mailboats’ coming in and out of the government pier- every day they bring market refreshers, which is quite a departure from every other island’s ‘hopefully it’ll arrive on Thursday, which means the stores will be stocked on Friday!’ mantra. (And then, if you’re not there on Friday, you get the dregs of the bins….) Convenient, for sure, and clearly their land owners’ needs define the market for it.

There’s a reason people flock to the island- the ocean beach is really incredible. Pink sand, very deep from dune to water with a shallow entry, and it spans for miles. There are a number of public access points from town, and it’s a short walk, so we’ve put our time in out there.

On Tuesday we took the water taxi to Eleuthera and rented a car with which to explore the parts of the island we couldn’t access from our trip up the west side by boat. The day was spent landmark-hopping, and it was great fun. First we swam and lounged in the Queen’s Baths, a series of bowls scooped out of the limestone cliffs by intensive wave action. They are loosely connected with one another, all on a vast flat plain of rock carved out of a much taller cliff. The seas would roll in and spray to refresh them, which of course the girls took much delight in.

Next we stopped at the Hatchet Bay Caves. We had read little before pulling into the access road, but quickly learned that it was roughly a mile-long trek from the beach-side entry cave underground up to the staircase ‘exit’ near where we parked. We decided to go backwards, down the stairs, and after a quick ten minutes down and in, three out of four of us had met the end of our spelunking journey. Violet, meanwhile, was raring to continue, but as no adult was interested…. we turned around. The crazy thing is that she was the only one without a flashlight, and with flip flops was slipping and sliding on the smooth rocks like crazy. Alas, I think she wanted to see the bats that they mentioned were there. There were a few stalagtites and stalagmites near the entrance, but mainly it was a narrowing path of unstable steps, and when we got to a rickety ladder with a few broken rungs to drop us down to the next turn and cavern level, I was beginning to picture us once our 99 cent flashlights decided to quit, and had a moment of panic.

We explored Governor’s Harbour, had lunch at a beachside spot with a freshwater pool (the girls were introduced to swim-up bars), and after a bit of searching found Sweetings Pond, a large body of saltwater closed off from the sea (but connected via underground aqueducts somehow) that is a known nursery and habitat for sea horses. We donned our gear and went carefully in- the silty bottom of the shallow pond was easy to kick up and blur our vision. After much searching and realizing that we need to acclimate our eyes to search them out within the grassy tufts on the bottom, we started to see a number of sea horses, all wound into the bits of seagrass. Also beautiful bright red clams, what looked like baby bone fish, and a bit of coral scattered across the mostly-flat bottom. It was only after we all got out that I told the family that locals don’t go in Sweetings Pond for fear of meeting the giant squid that is assumed to live at its center.

On Wednesday night it rained so hard that industrious Andy was able to plug the scuppers, fill the empty port tank (35 gallons!), fill two jerry ‘cans’, plus our 5 gallon see-through bucket and all available galley mixing bowls. (Not to mention the fresh water rinse our salty snorkeling gear, suits and towels that were hanging on the rail.) I woke up a number of times to watch him scurrying about in the cockpit, but it was so nice to fall asleep to the rain pounding on the hatch above my head, I couldn’t be bothered to get up to help. We spent the day yesterday showering, washing down the cockpit and feeling like kings with a vessel of freshwater at every elbow. The little things, I tell you!

Today the winds have knocked down and we’re planning on doing some dinghy exploration and hopefully some snorkeling, possibly in the ‘backbone’. One final trip to the store, possibly another flagging down of the little ice cream van that roams the island in the afternoon after school is let out, and then we’ll be prepped and ready to cross to Little Harbor.

Next stop, Abacos!

 

Another sweet ending to another sweet and full day. The sun set behind Meeks Patch Island not long ago, and as the rest of the boat sleeps here in our quiet anchorage, I’m happy to be regrouping after so much activity.

Backing up a few days, we left Staniel Cay on Thursday morning, and had a romping crossing, after a combined start of a romping sail and romping seas which started us out on a more exciting note than expected. About twenty minutes in I was the big ‘winner’ when a wave crested into the cockpit and doused not only me, but the clothes nearby that were piled and ready to be hung on the rail, as well as the chart kit (thankfully waterproof though frustratingly glue-y when it comes to salty pages drying together), and a blessedly cased iPad/Navionics guide. Once dried, we enjoyed a lovely crossing with little other action, and landing on Powell Point at the Cape Eleuthera Marina that afternoon was a great ending to the journey.  Another kid cruiser was ‘next door’, and we enjoyed the company of new friends while we discovered the marina’s pool, beach, and restaurant. Their seven year old boy and Violet hit it off immediately, and they played and roamed and made plans to wake early the next day to be able to maximize their plans before we both split off.

Kid boating is a bonus in and of itself, for the extra wide openings the kids bring to the admissions process of meeting people. As I’ve mentioned before, our girls scout anchorages for signs of other littles as we pull in, and are either encouraged and excited (and sometimes literally drawn in by kids’ waves and bellows) by seeing small kayaks, kid art or clothing on the rails, or droopy with disappointment in what looks like the worst possible outcome… retirees and single-handers (gasp!).  (/”Those lucky sailors!” say Mom and Dad!) Our new friend family was a great example: I can imagine no other situation in life in which Violet would be happy to be woken up early, and on purpose, but time with her new buddy was fleeting, and she knew how to make the most of it. (Which included loading the water guns that came in their Valentine baskets, running the docks and lawns like crazy urchins, and then plopping back down below on Chickadee while doodling and eating pancakes together. Heck of a packed hour and a half.)

While in Cape Eleuthera we walked to the Island School and had a long tour with a knowledgeable and sharp director, and I can’t speak for the rest of my family, but I’m sold. I’d apply in a heartbeat if I were sixteen again, and I look forward to seeing if our girls continue interest. The school’s mission is to foster leadership that effects change, with a hard look at sustainability and making small differences that therefore roll into larger shifts. Their campus was impressive (a farm, a boating and scuba center, a tilapia farm ‘feeding’ the aquacultural farm that had some mighty fine looking greens, etc., etc), with local and global initiatives showcased and led by students from local middle schools all the way through graduate programs. I feel like I’m in their marketing department all of a sudden, but perhaps that’s the point. It’s a supercool place doing really cool things, and I felt honored just to have a look!

From there we headed north to Rock Sound, and wow, what an odd place that was. The cruising guide and charts ‘boasted’ about many amenities and goings on, and yet instead we felt like we were in alien territory: apart from the actually identifiable market place a fair schlep from the dinghy-docking option, the ‘town’ was asleep. Three out of four buildings and homes were abandoned and being eaten by vines and shrubs, shops were closed, few people at all were even seen, signs led to nowhere (except the ‘in town’ blue hole- we did find that), and the various points of interest mentioned were either crumbling to the ground or totally nonexistent. We got back into our dinghy all but shaking our heads, and happily went home to the comfort of the boat, ready to make plans to head out again in the morning. (A funny ending to the day is that once the sun set, a ‘party’ materialized onshore and began pumping some serious 90s tunes for hours and hours… where did they come from?! Only Montel Jordan and Tone Loc know…)

Saturday led us to Alabaster Bay, which was a lovely departure from Rock Sound. About halfway up the east coast of Eleuthera, Alabaster is a wide but shallow beach rimmed in casuarinas, and we chose it largely for its decent anchoring and narrow ‘waist’, which meant an easy walk to the ocean beach on the west side.

We crossed over to the beach via an old US Navy base, which was fascinating to behold, but completely eerie to walk through. Friends mentioned that somewhere within was a bulletin board that had a still-legible flyer mentioning some activity planned for the day that the base closed, sometime in the 1980s, and seeing something like that would have sealed me in for the super creep: walking by the entry booth, the old gas ‘station’, the multi-acre concrete slab of the water collection site, falling buildings and piles of scrap metal from abandoned machinery was enough to paint a clear picture. To mentally click back and forth on the then and now as we walked through the base felt like walking with a particular breed of ghosts I was not at all comfortable with (did the show Lost sit too deep with me or what?!). I was happy to get to the beach and have it disappear behind me, and happier still that Andy had planned for a loop to get back to the boat, so we didn’t have to retrace our steps.

But the beach, holy cow, the beach. Wide, barely any slope, pink sand, and the greens and blues…. the juxtaposition was intense. The girls were in heaven, racing and rolling in the waves, and Andy and I were happy to be stretching our legs and cooling our feet in the water. A mile or so later, we parked our butts in our chairs while V made another cafe from which to ‘feed’ us, while Lily collected various beach treasures and roamed back and forth, happy as a beach trash collector collecting…. beach trash.

This morning we left early to continue our ‘climb’ up the west coast of Eleuthera. We had a beautiful sail, and while Andy manned the helm, my day was packed with work (good wifi meant it was a easy day to accomplish some emailing and research), cleaning projects, crafting (Violet is working on a new ‘stuffy’ situation and I worked on bracelets), eating (as always), reading (I’ve been reading in the cockpit to the girls on our sailing days), and gaming (Lily kicked my cribbage butt). Once we dropped anchor, I hauled each of them aloft, and they monkeyed around the shrouds and had a blast while our neighbors dinghied by and no doubt thought that they were being punished. On Lily’s second go-round she sat just below the spreader for an hour flying a kite, and would have been happy to stay up there for the night, had V not urged her down to go for a dinghy exploration. These are some lucky and happy kids, which makes for some seriously grateful and happy parents.

Tomorrow is back to school and weekday routine before heading across the Devil’s Backbone north of Eleuthera to an anchorage off of Harbour Island for a few days. Once we pick our way through the coral heads (that’s the hopeful plan anyway!), we’ll wait out some winds there, and will take a breather for a bit before shoving off for the Abacos. Until then!

Written on Thursday, February 21st, 2019. (Posted a day late!)

Hi. Two nights  ago we played  a game of Uno . My  dad  came in 1st, my mom came in 2nd, I came in 3rd ,and Lily 4th.

Yesterday Lily, Maeve and I made a cafe on the beach and Martin made a store. It was awesome.

Sadly, we left the Hurley Hathaways today. We are going to Eleuthera.

Good bye!

Mom note: The kids’ cafes and supply store were once again amazing. Violet’s ‘Sea Rock Restaurant’ and Lily and Maeve’s ‘World Cafe’ had large menus, great service, and good prices. The decor was impressive as well.

We had a fun but sad last night with the Ruach family; our dinner marked the end of Rickadee until 2020. The kids miraculously played hide-and-seek (where can you hide on this boat?!) and completed their video premier/presentations before hugs and good byes. 

We are now heading northeast toward Powell Point in Eleuthera, in some rolling swells, but with enough wind to sail for most if not all of the day. We’re all looking forward to exploring the island. It’s been about fifteen years since we’ve been!

Have only five days past since the big Valentine’s nuptials? Hard to imagine, considering how much we’ve packed in between then and now. The days have their individual activities that separate one from the next, but the myriad other bits and pieces that are strewn in each day make every twenty-four hour period a real lesson in stamina. Fun + work + the level of exertion that living on a boat necessitates for all simple tasks = the best kind of exhaustion imaginable.

My coffee and reading time in the cockpit is a sacred way to start each morning, and no mere mortal (at least on this vessel) shall mess with that if they want me to hang around for the rest of the day for any further assistance. I sit, I’m still, I’m taking in the scenery, I’m plowing through my books, and I’m not fetching one bleeping thing for any human other than myself. I’m grateful that the other early riser in the family is one who is as avid a reader, and knows not to mess with the rhythm; I often hear Lily turning pages just below me in her bunk. (My perch in the cockpit is just above her head, and her porthole has proven to be a source of ‘scare the pants off of Mom’ joy when they reach out and grab my leg when I think they’re asleep at night (and sometimes in the morning, gr….)… Kids. Joys, right?!)

Once that blissful reverie is interrupted by kids banging around, Andy checking batteries and going about his a.m. duties, food is made and school begins. (Queue sometimes productive, sometimes not productive hours of labor here, so that I don’t drag you down with details of my whining at their whines about me asking them to just “do the [insert school ‘thing’ here] already, for Pete’s sake, and do you treat your teachers the way you’re treating me? How disrespectful!”)

Lunch is made and devoured, plans are made and unfold, and then the ‘back to the boat’ spray down on the transom and get clean dry clothes on ‘coming home’ routine ensues. This is another great time for me, and another one spent in the cockpit, as the kids often tuck down below for a bracelet-making marathon, a game (this year’s favorites are Uno and Memory), a movie or a newly-introduced show. They’ve been ‘Red Box’-ing movies and tv shows from Ruach, which has an incredible collection. Since our borrowing became so regular last year, Susanne made it one step more legitimate in that she has an old Red Box DVD case, which is now transported back and forth each time we need a fix. Great service, and 0% of the price! (Note: we are leeches.)

While they’re gaming below, Andy and I continue on with our cribbage streak, which has been almost a nightly occurrence since we started the trip. Dinner is often cooking below, kids are happy and clean, and we get twenty minutes to scope the neighborhood, watch the sun set (A is happiest when it’s unobstructed over the water and not messing around behind those piddly landforms), and play cards. From there, it’s dinner, sometimes a family game, and total CRASH. Sun, sand, salt, wind, activity.. it’s a wonder they don’t fall asleep at the table more often than they do.  (And they do, from time to time.)

That’s a day in the life, and as for a week on the move, we’ve hit a number of great little Cays between Great Exuma (there), and Staniel Cay (here) in the past almost-week. We met up with Maine friends on their boat in Leaf Cay, where we also met three other kid boats in the anchorage, and played happily on a beach after snorkeling one afternoon. We were able to snorkel in another spot the next morning before leaving, and found a great head of staghorn coral, though the vast fields of bleaching flanking is so depressing. Recognizing that our girls are seeing coral reefs at all when their subsequent generation may not see much of anything is a thread I don’t lose when we’re out there.

We then moved on to Rudder Cay, where we snorkeled a great ‘loaf’ (the tides carve out these little island nubs to look like muffins/loaves over time) in the mouth of the cut,  which had a great diversity of corals (stag horn, elk horn, fan, and others I can’t name at the moment), sponges, reef fish, a nurse shark, barracuda and a sting ray or two. The girls are both amazing snorkelers, and last as long as the slowest adult every time (usually Andy, as I tend to get cold..). V doesn’t use her actual snorkel, and prefers to dolphin around and up and down, resulting in a lot of work, but she is unfazed by it. They’ve both been practicing some free-diving and teaching themselves to equalize, perhaps as a result of seeing so many others spear-fishing along the way. A cruiser already in the water for that dive in particular said “I’m in a school of barracuda right now!”, and Violet’s response was “I gotta get IN there!”, while the rest of us were thinking, ‘Er, Uh… I may wait a minute or two..’ She’s gung-ho, to say the least.

From Rudder we moved to Little Farmer’s for a night before a night at Black Point Settlement on Guana Cay. Short easy runs between islands, with enough time for schooling in the morning and an adventure once we landed each day. A snorkel, an island walk-  as long as we ‘run the dogs’ and see the sights, we’re all happy.

Here on Staniel our plan is to provision (mailboat with fresh produce comes tomorrow, fingers’ crossed), and say goodbye (sniff, sniff) to our Ruach compadres before we cross to Eleuthera on Thursday, when there’s a good weather window for not beating to weather. It’s down to making the most of our last day with our buddies, and I already feel the weight of sadness from the girls. (The adults too, but I’m sure that it’s more intense for this sweet kid tribe.)

But first tomorrow, that cockpit coffee and book….

 

As Georgetown marked the southernmost end of our trip this year, our northward march begins. Thankfully it’ll be a slow march, as there is much to explore on our loosely-scheduled route up the chain. One flip-flopping piece of news is that we just got confirmation that there is in fact room to store at the boatyard in the Abacos, so our journey will be all Bahamian, and no Intercoastal Waterway, a fact that we are excited to relay.

Leaving Stocking Island, we stopped for two nights in Emerald Bay, about 12nm north, to tuck into a marina so that Andy could utilize shore power to equalize our batteries. Once again we were treated like kings by friends living nearby, and we were not at all sad for the opportunity to swim in their fabulous infinity pool overlooking the ocean between stints of playing on the beach. We’ve been so happy to spy familiar faces from home while here, and are so humbled by the generosity shared by so many. We SALVio-ians are a lucky bunch.

Valentine’s Day aboard is always fun, and as the decorations from each year return and more are added, the boat is beginning to look like Cupid vomited down below. (He also leaves plenty of chocolate, so it’s worth the clean-up.) In addition to the day’s regular activities, Violet planned an ornate wedding for two of her stuffies, and with crafting help from a very crafty and patient friend, decorations were made, an altar was put together, and even an officiant was born out of felt, a couple of beads, and some embroidery floss.

Because this melded Great Exuma tribe that we had was so incredible, not only did we have great attendance, but we also had wedding cake: cupcakes were made for the occasion by another enthusiastic and dear wedding guest. Violet was over the moon with it all, and the final product was absolutely precious. The cockpit was filled with attendees, both human and stuffed, and the dock had its rows of guests as well. Tentee the officiant did a great job (despite “having been born just yesterday”), and the cake was delicious. Grass (hummingbird) and Mercy (felted pig) will now live happily ever after, and have an anniversary that they’ll hopefully be able to remember!

After the big ceremony we shoved off and headed just a bit further north to anchor off of Black Cay. The winds have fallen out, so it’s nice to be anchored in such flat calm after weeks of winds, and our low-wind goals are snorkeling, snorkeling and more snorkeling. Ironically we headed to one such spot, and were so taken with the ocean beach on the other side that our first opportunity for sea glassing and body surfing took over the afternoon. Snorkeling was forgotten.  We did however, see more pigs on a nearby beach. Pigs on a Beach- all I can think of is Snakes on a Plane, for some reason.

After school this morning (Frrrriiiiiiiday!! And no, we didn’t tell our kids that their counterparts don’t have school today, and no, we didn’t tell them that they had a snow day on Wednesday…. cruelty!) we’ll head up the chain for some actual snorkeling, though exact Cay destination is not yet known. My guess is that it will be a beautiful little island with one or two pristine sandy beaches, some great coral heads nearby, and if we’re lucky, an ocean beach for gallivanting. Such is life!

 

Hi everybody!!! Yesterday we hiked up the monument and we saw our boat name that is made out of rocks. We played two rounds of soccer.

HAPPY EARLY  VALENTINE’S  EVERYONE !!!!!!!!!!  Today we finished   the first season of the Jetson’s .

I have been making friendship bracelets almost everyday !

Despite our usual track record of staying on the move, we’ve been parked here off of Stocking Island near Georgetown since Tuesday afternoon, and we’re adjusting to the ways of the stationary cruiser: organized activities abound, and when we’re feeling less-than-organized, there is still plenty to do and plenty of people to meet.

The reason that we’ve been here this long is largely due to the high(er) winds that have been sustained out of the east for the last few days. As I sit and type in the cockpit tonight, we’re tracking back and forth on the anchor as gusts rail down over the island just off of our bow. We are certainly safe and sound, but the planning and navigation of the days are largely dependent on how wet we’d like to get on whatever upwind leg of our dinghy ride we have in the day.

School still dominates the mornings, and from there we plan the leg-stretching play. One afternoon we walked across a vast sand/salt flat at the base of the small hill/mountain that a large stone monument sits atop, and found large letters created with stones in the flats. Backing up a little we realized that they were boat names, and hiking to the monument proved to be the real lesson in the rock words: they are all perfectly visible (and fun to see!) from the top. Since our hike up, the kids have of course added our boat names to the mix, so we’ll have to hike again for photos to prove it.

We’ve had friends from home visiting on the ‘mainland’ (Great Exuma), and the winds have had them water taxi-ing our way to play in the lee of Stocking.  We’ve explored the various beaches here and nosed around in some hiking trails, tasted the burgers and fish sandwiches at the various beach bars along the island, and have turned ourselves into beach volleyball players (and wow, do I use that term lightly) in the mean time. One particular bar (the Chat N’ Chill) is the gathering spot for cruisers, locals, and intrepid vacationers alike, and not only does it have a giant swing in the trees for the kids and a bar and grill for beach nourishment, it also has two volleyball courts that any out-of-shape and know-nothing fools like ourselves can waltz onto. It’s a blast, and though my legs and forearms end up screaming after five minutes, it’s an addictive way to look like a total ass while having fun with the kids.

We did take a break from volleyball one day to play beach baseball, which was equally as hard but just as much fun. A water ball and kayak paddle became our ball and bat, kids’ lifejackets and skim boards bases, and a whole lot of whooping and hollering rounded out the game for full effect. This whole running-in-the-sand thing however, is for the birds. Plovers, to be exact. (Legs. SORE.)

As the winds settle we’re looking forward to planning our next steps, and it depends on the usual variety of boat needs, crew interests and weather forecasts. We’ll likely make our way north in some capacity mid-week, and poke our way back through the lower Exumas slowly. We did get word that the yard in the Abacos where we were hoping to haul out is full, so onto Plan B, taking the boat back to the States for one more year. (We’re now higher up on the waitlist in Green Turtle for 2020.) Since that’s the option, we’re planning our work lists and upgrades to accomplish before next year’s trip, so that we can get even more things checked off before they’d potentially become a VAT charge here in the Bahamas.

Back to the breeze!

After two days of incredible sailing ‘outside’ (east of the islands, as opposed to ‘inside’, or on the Bank), we landed in Georgetown, the largest town on Great Exuma Island. Because we were semi mission-bound to arrive here in time to see friends flying in, we made quick work of the clicks from Staniel, but our one night’s stopover near Darby and Rudder Cays made us realize that an entire winter could happily be spent exploring the islands between the two ‘hubs’.

Day one was shorter than yesterday- we left Staniel after school mid-morning, and we enjoyed a decent sail with the wind behind us, dropping anchor off of Rudder Cay by mid-afternoon. We blew up the paddle board for its inaugural use of the season, and our flotilla of chaos (kayaks, paddle board, dinghy, bags o’ beach things, bag o’snacks, etc.) all made its way to the beach. There is a beautiful cave just north of the beach that we parked ourselves on where the wave action has carved an almost-perfect semicircle out of the limestone cliffs, leaving a sweet little patch of white sand within. As we sat and were highly entertained by watching the kids reunite with one of their favorite paddle board ‘games’ from 2018, known by the name (and I’m guessing here) Let’s See How Many Balancing Acts We Can Do On This Thing Until Someone Accidentally Gets Kicked In The Face Or Just Falls Off, we started noticing some crazy stingray activity moving in and out of the cave area and along the beach. Smalls chasing much larger, flipping and twitching out of the water, and all perilously close to the water’s edge. The kids stopped their game to freeze on the board, as we were afraid they’d fall off and end up a little too close to the action. A little up-close investigation concluded that it was ray mating in real time, which was frankly drawing a crowd of dinghies, and we left to give those poor rays their privacy. But, nature. Pretty cool.

We woke early from Rudder and commenced schooling underway as we once again went the outside route south to Elizabeth Harbor. Schooling is hard enough to command the attention of the girls who recognize that their mother is nowhere near as fun, exciting or as patient as their teachers, but throw in the other hats that are necessary for me to wear underway (deck crew, galley troll, stewardess), and the rigor is tossed overboard for some seriously low expectations. They have both been great journalers this year, so that’s been my given, but when we have connectivity Lily has plenty to do online, and getting her to focus on it while Violet finishes her tasks quickly and plays and watches movies is another bag of not-interesting for me. (The irony in that statement is that it was Violet today who tested me within an inch of my level of tolerance, while Lily dutifully worked away on required work. The low point was in fact when I ‘quit’ as teacher, and took up my job as sailmaker instead. I figured working on bimini repair would at least accomplish something positive that wasn’t me grumbling at my kid.)

Schooling aside, the sail yesterday was like we dream about. Wind just aft of the beam about 15 kts, comfortable sea conditions, blue skies, and lots of other boats ‘marching’ along around us, making for fun VHF eavesdropping. We were all fishing, and as we kept hearing nearby boats talk of landed mahi and tuna we started staring at our rig with a heightened expectation. And then BOOM!, fish on, and it was the very mahi we had ask the dear sea for. With a donut-type rig (no rod, but a rim-like loop to wrap the line around), Andy ‘reeled’ it in, and we marveled at the almost-four footer that fought its way in. I then fell into a wee funk as we watched its beautiful blues, greens and yellows fade to silver, and to lift my spirits from the death part of the catch, I meal-planned. (Alas, I am not a great hunter, but I am a persistent omnivore, so my conundrum is constant..)

We dropped the hook where we now sit, on the easterly shore of Stocking Island in Elizabeth Harbor. The numbers here are pretty wild- hundreds of cruisers, anchored in thick clusters all along the island, with more groups across the harbor right outside of Georgetown proper. This is a place where sailors (and a few power boaters) come to camp out for the winter, and the boating infrastructure is impressive. The cruiser’s net this morning (and every morning) boasts of beachside yoga classes, church services, bridge games, aqua aerobics, ukulele bands, kids’ activities (there are a TON of kid boats around us!), services provided, submersion swimming lessons (huh? (what’s the other kind of swimming?)), barter and trade options, fundraisers, shop info, and general ‘goodbyes’ and ‘welcomes’ to those coming and going. There are a lot of different beaches on Stocking Island, each with its own purpose (yoga here, pilates there, e.g.), but they’re all beautiful, and we’ll likely explore them one by one in our time here. We hiked over to the oceanside beach yesterday afternoon before heading to the Chat N’ Chill, a beachside bar and gathering place (dance parties on Wednesday nights- woot!) for a sundowner. As we sat (with the cats, always with the cats around here), we watched dinghies zip this way and that, ‘cars’ flying by. So many people here!

Today was a ‘town’ recon mission, since we’re low on propane and also wanted to scout for laundry, trash, water and groceries. We buzzed across the harbor and found lunch, provisions, and most importantly for the girls- braids. We found a great straw market near town and a very patient woman who put up with the devastating messes that are the salty, sandy, never-quite completely washed clean mops that are our girls’ hair, and voila, they’re braided and happy.

Tomorrow we’ll hike to the monument on Stocking with the Ruach crew and a family anchored nearby who we met in Rudder and ran into again today. As if cruisers aren’t outgoing enough to dinghy here and there and introduce themselves and make easy friends, having kids onboard ramps that process to another level. Kids salivate over the sight other same-aged kids as they come into an anchorage, and parents, ever grateful to inject their children with buddies, are the happy matchmakers. It’s easy, it’s entertainment, and we get to spend time with people that we know are at least like-minded enough to have made this type of commitment of sailing existence, so there’s always a huge connection right off the bat. Since our girls are lucky enough to have the Ruach kids every day, we don’t have the down times of wondering when and where we’ll spy the next ‘kid boat’, but it’s certainly a lovely boon to meet others along the way.

We just woke the girls from their nests in their hammocks (a new addition to Chickadee this year, and they’ve made quick work of getting them set up as star-gazing, reading pods spanning from the head stay aft), which is prompting my own reading, nesting time in the cockpit. Goodnight, all!

After a communication ‘black hole’ (as an MDIslander I kept thinking of the Exumas Land & Sea Park’s lack of bars as the ‘Echo Lake stretch’ in that regard), we’re back in the land of cell towers on Staniel Cay.

It’s been a packed stretch of days (week?!) since Atlantis. We crossed the Yellow Bank on Tuesday morning, and landed off of Allan’s Cay, isle of iguanas, apparently. Our first run ashore was thwarted by the scaly buggers’ attempts at scoring some sweet salad ingredients off of us, and once they realized that we were sailors and that we were a) almost out of salad ingredients and b) too thrifty to share if we had had spares, they thumbed their noses at us and let us be. Even still, the idea of unpacking our beach chairs in relaxation was tainted, so we dinghied around to the oceanside beach and found a vast expanse of sand, and alas, only three iguanas, who were no doubt booted from the coven for not being aggressive enough with the tourists. A rogue Pringle fell an hour into our time there, and Señor Respectful had his turn, but I must say, Pringle + Bahamian iguana = ridiculous sight to behold. It turns out that evolution didn’t make their jaws big enough for that stacked slices of compressed hydrogenated vegetable oil (and to be clear, evolution still hasn’t had a part in making that junk edible for any creature!).

From Allan Cay we went to Shroud, our favorite stop last year, and again enjoyed the tangle of waterways through the mangroves en route to the ocean beach that we love so much. The mangroves had lemon sharks, green turtles and checkered puffers for us to spy while we wound around the sandy shoals. There is something so exciting about a dinghy adventure, which is funny since you’d think that being in an even smaller boat wouldn’t be something we’d be working toward, but with our view bucket and the sharp eyes of the kids, we always seem to scout the goods.

After Shroud we went to Warderick Wells, and our two nights planned turned into three after we woke up yesterday morning to a torrential downpour and high winds. It rained so much through the night that by morning we realized that the decks were clean enough to ‘drink off of’, and subsequently plugged the scuppers and opened the water fill. An hour later, we fill our tanks! We had further water collection with Lily and Andy ‘milking’ our bimini, and therefore had water to top up after doing the dishes later in the day.

It cleared up in the afternoon, and the Ruach crew took the kids out to the sand bank in the middle of the harbor and let them play. The day was pretty ideal in that it was Saturday, we had nowhere to be, books to read, plenty of crafts to craft, food to eat, and movies to watch. Check, check, check and check.

After a beach gathering last night, Lily and I were hanging over the rail with a flashlight, checking out the scene below us. We watched wee fish being chased by slightly less-wee fish above the turtle grass, and reveled in the reactions of it all in the stiff current of the anchorage. And THEN, into the beam of our light came a very large hammerhead shark, which made me gasp, and made Lily toss me the flashlight with a quick ‘No thanks’, as she ducked down below. It was nutty! I haven’t seen a hammerhead since I was in the Sea of Cortez almost twenty years ago, and it was so clear and beautiful and BIG. It was also a great learning experience for the kids as to why we don’t let them swim at night!

This morning we made our way, upwind (bummer), to Staniel, and made quick work of enjoying ourselves once the anchor was down in 6′ of white sand. We swam to the boat next ‘door’ to say hi, snorkeled through the Grotto, and went for a walk in ‘town’ to scout what the stores had on the shelves. Then it was on to the Yacht Club, where the kids pet the nurse sharks below the conch stand, the adults enjoyed the Super Bowl happy hour specials, and we all recognized the exhaustion of the day. Tomorrow’s goal is Farmer’s Cay- stay tuned!

Tucked into the ‘nosebleed’ section of Atlantis’ marina (we have yet to measure the walk to the marina office or the actual resort beyond, but from the burn of my legs after 5 or 6 trips back and forth yesterday, I’d say it’s a haul-plus 1 mile), I’m being blinded by the light reflecting off of the three massive decks of a 200-something foot yacht as it slowly creeps out of the harbor. Such is life in this place. So much opulence to ogle in the marina, and so much amusing people-watching just about everywhere else.  After sailing in virtual solitude for almost thirty hours, the contrast here was head-spinning to start. We went from quiet moments in the cockpit as we made great way with 10-15 kts on a broad reach to thousands of cruise ship passengers vying for machines and tables in the casino. Eyes on sticks, all of us.

Our passage was logistically uneventful (as we like them) but perfect weather for sailing, and we made great time. Violet slept for half of it – apparently the ‘anti-gravity’ chamber of the V berth in the swells is not a bother for that one- but per usual we did a lot of reading, eating and napping. Three of my favorites things to do in any locale, but put them on a boat and BOOM! Heaven.

We’ll spend a few nights here to maximize water park/resort adventuring, and we’re already off to a good start. While it rained yesterday the kids ran this way and that and managed to take care of the plan of attack that they all chattered about on the crossing. Underway, they kept listing names of slides and ‘rides’ and what order they were going to do them. (The fact that they can remember these slides’ names and whips and turns in detail from last year and yet still forget to not leave their clothes on the floor instead of putting them where they belong blows the mind, really, but I digress..) Andy, Susanne and I meanwhile rolled umbrellas together and made as dry of an oasis as we could for keeping our drinks out of the rain. Pro tip: the more you drink, the less the rain matters.

Though our bodies ached with exhaustion from the late watch hours of the passage and the multiple dock walks, we couldn’t resist the pull of activity on a Saturday night at Atlantis, so after dinner we walked in once more. After the kids dropped [their own, thankfully] cash at the $1 billion dollars-a-pound candy store, we met a junkanoo parade coming through the marina village. We then wandered some more, and happened upon an arcade for the kids, which is a great babysitter for anyone else living in the sticks who doesn’t yet know of this option. Well worth the extra push, and we’ve all slept like rocks (V still ‘rocking’ it), which will gear us up for a fun-filled Sunday, no doubt.