We were one of five boats in the anchorage at Staniel when we first arrived about ten days ago. The yacht club restaurant and bar was so empty, I was sure it was on its way to inevitable closure, as the stories of neighboring businesses made it sound as if it was a foregone conclusion.
Fast forward to two nights ago as we dinghied back to Chickadee after a barbeque ashore- the bright stars overhead made a crystalline blanket, which blended into a horizon with a sea of anchor lights. We were at that point anchored among dozens of other boats, and the ‘next door’ Big Majors Cay’s anchorage had another fifty twinkling away.
We wait anxiously for the mail boat to bring the fresh produce and dairy, and then we rush the stores to get what we need before other cruisers clear the shelves. Inflatable ribs packed with tourists from Nassau buzz this way and that all day (offering a reaalllly long-sounding day trip to snorkel at the Grotto, and experience the ‘pig beach’ on Big Major before turning around and heading back); megayachts speckle the horizon at the rear (read: deeper part) of each anchorage and dispatch large tenders of revelers doing the same; we recently ate dinner at the same yacht club bar with our plates practically in our laps for the hoardes of people packing it, and cruisers, cruisers are everywhere! Everyone came out of the woodwork in a four day window.
Strangely enough, despite so many floating neighbors, every beach we’ve parked ourselves on each afternoon has been empty, save for our own crowd of wild children, kayaks and gear. It was great fun to spend time in the area, exploring the island a bit deeper with each shore visit, and yet I am happily anticipating today’s sail back into the quieter islands once more.
Routine defines boat life, and my sanity almost always. We bade goodbye to our friends yesterday, and tucked into our favorite of year round events: Friday Night Movie Night. The girls pick the movie, at times at odds requiring some bargaining, and we settle in with snacks in lieu of dinner, and plenty of popcorn. Having that family gathering lead into a weekend of NO SCHOOL (can you see the excitement there?!?) is a dream.
“TGIF!” is a legitimate exclamation onboard between Susanne and me (the onboard ‘teacher/moms’), whereas at home I imagine this phrasing is used most earnestly by real teachers as they watch our kids file out of their classrooms for that sweet weekend reprieve. For all that boating life gives us, its one handcuffing experience is the less-than-wonderful school time dynamic between me and the girls at least twice a week. I’m determined to figure it all out, but it’s been an interesting learning curve of frustrations, fear of not doing well enough, and annoyance at our often opposing levels of patience. What was my mantra suppose to be, again?
After NOT having school today (Saaaaaturday!!), we’ll have breakfast and head up to Compass Cay. We’ve seen our southernmost point of the year’s trip, and will slowly wind our way back up the chain. The future is still unknown for us, since we’re throwing around different ideas of how and where we’ll end up. We may haul in the Abacos this year to see if we like it enough to continue (it would buy us more time in the Bahamas and less time in the brown waters of the Okeechobee), or we may still swing through the Abacos on our way back to Florida. Lots of good options to explore, and in the mean time, lots of beautiful anchorages to see and poke around in.
HEy hey now, don’t be talking bad about my hometown of Okeechobee!! Ha!!
Although, I think hauling in the abacos is a great idea, no way I’d go back to all that brown water!!!
I ALmost said “But we still love Okeechobee, Mike!” when I wrote that!