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!