Tuesday, 4 June 2019

Bring on the Bahamas: Part One

I have to admit that before we started cruising, the Bahamas held little appeal to me. I visualized a group of islands developed for mass tourism, with endless North American boats crammed into crowded anchorages. 

As we cruised the Eastern Caribbean in Nahanni V, I was surprised to hear reports from sailors coming from the Bahamas. They raved about the beautiful water, the abundant sea life, and the remote anchorages. So, when it turned out that it would be a relatively easy destination to go with Wakataitea, we decided to check it out.


As I sit down to write this post about our Bahamian adventures, we are leaving the Bahamas to head back to the US. After a three month stay, it feels like we've barely scratched the surface in getting to know this amazing archipelago.  

***********************

We officially checked into the Bahamas on March 4th in Green Turtle Cay, a small community in the northern Abaco islands. We got our land legs while exploring the town with its bright, charming buildings. 
Checking in on Green Turtle Cay
Customs vehicle parked outside Custom's office
Walking back to boat through the town on Green Turtle Cay
We met our first kid boat, Moonshine, in Green Turtle Cay. We followed Brian, Scarlet and Buddy to nearby Manjack Cay, a gem of a place with sandy beach, coconut trees and a gathering place for cruisers. While at Manjack, we began adjusting to life aboard, balancing school and well-deserved playtime.

There is an art trail on Manjack Cay, where cruisers have collected flotsam from the windward side, and created art installations along a path. After an afternoon of beach combing, we scheduled our school day to include art on the beach. I was surprised at the variety of materials we gathered. Wavey found some commercial rope from a very large ship and dragged it through the forest to our workspace. Simon used the coconut cracking tool on the beach to find the perfect shape for his sailboat. 
Art class on the beach
Wavey's creation
Simon's coconut boat
My flotsam sea turtle
Two monkeys
With each day, our routine became more established and there was less grumbling about school (it is hard to focus on the area of a parallelogram when there is a beach calling your name.) Luckily for all of us, Wavey was studying the new Canada Food Guide, and wowed us with her creations.
Wavey's galley: breakfast burritos
I love when Wavey cooks!

Banana bread!
From the time we left the US, we realized our main sail cover was not going to survive much longer. It was shredding more each time we put it on and took it off. We took advantage of some windy weather and holed up in Marsh Harbour, where we spent three days sewing a new cover. We used eleven yards of bright, orange sunbrella with only scraps leftover.
Measuring it out
Tucked underneath yards of material
Ta da!
We breezed through the Abacos, as we wanted to get further south to the warmer Exumas. But first, we stopped on the island of Eleuthera and the small cays around it. We went to a very protected anchorage in the uninhabited Royal Island to ride out some nasty weather. They were forecasting a couple of days of squalls up to 50 knots of wind and we wanted to find some good protection. It was here that we met our second kid boat, Vladroda.

It didn't take long for our kids to get to know Daryna, Roro, Vlady, and their parents Tanya and Drew. In the many days we were together at Royal Island, we enjoyed several meals and play dates. Simon and Wavey brought out their crafts, and Simon found fellow boat-builders who shared his passion for model boats.

Wavey demonstrating use of the 3D pen
Boat builders at work


Final paint job
Roro and Simon with a new creation before the sea trials
During our stay in the anchorage at Royal Island, we had a few squalls come through and we were glad to be securely tucked in. One afternoon, we decided the weather looked good to have guests, so we invited the crew of Vladroda to have a leisurely lunch on board Wakataitea. 
Before the storm
In the late afternoon, we noticed the sky darken with ominous clouds lurking on the horizon. We quickly tidied up. Vladroda crew buzzed back to their boat. We all battened down the hatches. We debated whether we should take down the full sun awning, but (stupidly) decided to leave it up. We were almost out of fresh water and wanted to collect rain water in the squall.

Wakataitea minutes before the afternoon storm (taken by Tanya on Vlaroda)
Within minutes of securing everything on deck, we were hit full force by a terrifying squall that came with blinding rain and winds of over 40 knots. Our sun awning became a kite, and the kids and I reached up to hold it down. For several minutes, it looked like it was going to lift right off the boat with Simon and Wavey attached. Luckily, we quickly got some ropes and tied it more securely to the boat.

Instantly, we were drenched. We lost sight of the other anchored boats around us in the driving rain and howling wind. John quickly had the engine on, and was motoring slowly ahead to take some of the pressure off the anchor. The rocks behind us looked hungry and we were determined not to pay them a visit. 

The storm lasted over five hours with the highest winds gusting to 66 knots. It was a long time to be dripping and vigilant. The kids stayed on deck for quite awhile standing anchor watch with us, but eventually went below when they felt we had things under control. We quickly learned which hatches we had not completely dogged down. While John and I tried not to get blown away on deck, the kids wiped the cupboards from the water that leaked in through a galley port. Our cabin also got wet. John and I slept that night in a soggy bed under the hatch I had failed to completely close.

Thankfully, the boats around us survived the storm with minimal damage. We were thankful how strong Michael and Catherine made the sun awning, as no damage was found. Overall, it was a good learning experience. Our takeaway lesson? Take the awning down in high winds; no water can be collected when the rain blows in a horizontal direction!
Sunny skies again!
Before heading south, we made a quick stop for fuel and water in Spanish Wells, a settlement on the island of Eleuthera. It was probably the grossest water we have ever taken on any boat, with lots of floaty, orange crud it in, but we used it without issue. While the rest of the crew was busy filling water and diesel tanks, I sneaked out to a small store and surprised the family by getting some ice cream, which we gobbled up while we sailed south. One tub and four spoons!


From Eleuthera, we travelled south to the Exumas. This famous group of islands and cays include the Exuma Cays Land and Sea Park, a protected group of islands where no fishing or shelling is allowed. We only stayed for a few days, but thoroughly enjoyed the pristine beaches and trails we explored.
Dodging the coral heads on the way to the Exumas







Shroud Cay

View from hill on Shroud Cay
Shroud Cay

Shroud Cay



Simon kayaking while doing sea trials with his model boat
Warderick Wells
Hiking on Warderick Wells
Cruisers leave items with their boat names at the top of the hill in Warderick Wells

The only downside of our visit to the Park, was the presence of several, private mega yachts, that ignored the rules and the spirit of a nature preserve. These cays are sanctuaries that serve as nurseries for sea life including baby sharks, rays and turtles. Loud karaoke music and the plethora of motorized watercraft emerging from these mega yachts, disrupted what was an otherwise, peaceful anchorage. We all fumed as jet skis proliferated, following us into the creeks through the mangroves, blatantly ignoring the signs prohibiting their use. 
The yacht with the armada of jet skis (and I must say, a very cool slide off the side)

I really lost it when we were slowly motoring through the mangroves in Shroud Cay, and a jet ski blasted by us, towing several kids bouncing and screaming on a large inflatable. We shot them the darts as they passed, raised three fingers, and shouted "3 knots!"

No jet skis allowed. Right.
There are so few protected places like this is the world. Why do so many people fail to respect these simple rules, especially when they can rip around everywhere else? Sheesh! 

As we sailed further south, Wakataitea became more familiar. The kids learned how to raise, lower, and trim the sails, and became competent at many chores around the boat like launching the dinghy and keeping things tidy. We began to work as a team and after awhile, there was less shouting and more efficiency. We hit our heads less often, and became more skilled at moving quickly up and down the companionways. I became one with Waka's dream galley, and got into the groove of making bread, yogurt, and finding creative dishes using dried beans.
Wavey raising the jib
We picked up the pace after the Land and Sea Park, as we wanted to get to Georgetown: the Bahamian Mecca of Kid Boats. The kids needed their own kind, and we were excited about our visitors who would be joining us soon.


Tuesday, 30 April 2019

Bahamas Blue

We said goodbye to February and Florida in the same hour.

I admit that we have become more superstitious over the past year. Most sailors are aware that it's supposed to be bad luck to leave for a passage on a Friday. Given that this was going to be our first offshore passage on Wakataitea, we wanted to venture forth with all the luck we could get. So, we left Lake Worth, Florida on Thursday, February 28th at 11:30 pm to cross the Straits of Florida and the Gulf Stream.

The Gulf Stream is basically a river in an ocean. It flows from the Gulf of Mexico in a northerly direction off the US coast to Canada and beyond. If you were set adrift in the Stream, it will be a sure ride to Nova Scotia. The current runs about 2 knots, so crossing it from Florida will set you more northerly than where you want to be, especially if you are in a slow-moving boat...like us.

Our original goal was to get to Miami and then cross to Bimini and make our way to the Exumas in the middle of the Bahamian archipelago. However, a nice weather window opened, and since we were sick of motoring in the ICW, we jumped at the chance. I was also tired of shopping. We heard many times that food and other items would be expensive in the Bahamas, with some items hard to find. So we stocked up on things repeatedly, until I could not bear to look at another grocery store.  Wakataitea can hold a lot, and she was starting to look pretty full.

We headed into the night from Lake Worth. The anchorage was glassy calm, and the lights from the commercial port lit our way out the channel and into the darkness. The kids were snug in their beds as we passed the sea buoy into the Straits of Florida. There was a breath of northerly wind, the stars twinkled, and the two-foot seas lapped the hulls. We motored all night and our watches were uneventful.

Sometime during the following morning, we left the Stream and arrived at the Little Bahama  Bank. As expected, the current took our leisurely course and dropped us at a higher latitude than we had aimed for, but we soon adjusted a course across the bank towards the Abaco Islands.
Sunrise in the Gulf Stream

It was an unforgettable experience to leave the rich blue colour of the deep Atlantic Ocean and move from 600 feet to 40 feet in a matter of a few minutes. Simon was fishing while the water was still deep and caught a couple of fish. Tuna for lunch! As we came upon the bank, the turquoise water was mesmerizing. We hung off the bow as we sailed over visible sea urchins and coral heads on the bottom.
Getting fishing line set up
Simon fishing
Teamwork
Pulling in dinner
Coming onto the Little Bahama Bank
We spent the rest of the day motoring across the shallow bank in 18-22 feet of water trying to reach one of the cays for the night. We were halfway across the bank when the sun started to set. Instead of pushing ahead in the dark, we simply anchored where we were, put on lots of lights and went to bed. (See Wavey's Words for her account of our arrival and the anchoring shark tale.)
Kids packing up the jib
Sunset in the middle of the Bank
The next morning we were sailing by 0630. It was a perfect day: warm, sunny and just enough breeze to sail. While we sailed on, I spent the morning baking banana bread and roasting vegetables for a quinoa salad. As the smells filled the boat, I felt a surge of contentment. We were home.



We arrived at Great Sale Cay, a small uninhabited cay that is a popular stopover for boats sailing back and forth to the US. I could not contain my joy once the anchor was set. THIS is what we had worked so hard to return to.
Raising our "Q" flag
We tidied up the deck, put up the sun awning, and Wakataitea was transformed into a cool, floating, party tent. We donned bathing suits, masks, snorkels and went out exploring.  Reassuring the kids that there were no sharks in sight, we relaxed in the blue, clear water. Later, we ate our meal outside on deck as dusk came. I kept saying, "pinch me!"
*******************************

For years I have claimed that purple is my favourite colour. However, after two days in Bahamian waters, I declare I've had a change of heart. (Are you allowed to change your favourite colour after 50?)  All I can think about is blue. There are more shades than I have ever imagined. As the sun moves through the day, some of the colours are electric.  I've never seen water this spectacularly blue. It takes my breath away. 

My family just smiles as I scream one more time, "THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL!"



The journey to return to our sailing and cruising lifestyle started many months ago, but it feels like we have reached a destination...a milestone where the next leg of this adventure will begin. I realize that sounds kind of corny. 

I am intoxicated by blue.