Nassau to the Exumas

From the Captain

1/6-1/10/2014  Nassau Harbour

We spent a few days at the Nassau Harbour Club marina. We would rather have anchored out, but very strong north winds racked the area for three days, and we felt it best to be securely tied to a dock. Even then, Luna pitched unhappily, like a bucking horse confined in a small stall. We have not seen marinas with floating docks here, and keeping the dock lines tight in a three-foot tidal range presents its own problems. We were happy to move out on the 10th.

Nonetheless, we made the most of our time here. Nassau is a large city. Not at all like Bimini. There is congestion and noise and crime. People are not as friendly and open as on a small island. We learned first how to cross the busy one-way street in front of the marina. If you wait for cars to stop for you, you will grow old before you reach your destination. Bahamian drivers take the initiative. It's Boston on steroids. Pedestrians need to do the same. Step off the curve, make out like you're going to cross. Drivers stop to let you by. Perhaps grudgingly, but they don't honk at you. We always give a friendly wave and mouth, "Thank you."

There is a shopping center across from the marina. Here is a market. We enter the door and are transported--right back to the U.S. It's a supermarket with all the same stuff arranged in wide aisles. A little more expensive, but not grossly so. In the complex are also a Radio Shack, a Bed, Bath, and Beyond clone, and a Starbucks. We use the internet at Starbucks. Down the street are several well-stocked marine stores. We buy two booklets of Bahamian Explorer Charts for about the same price as in the U.S. When I looked in Ft. Lauderdale, there were none to be found.

There is a gas station where we can fill the fuel cans with diesel fuel. A bit beyond that is a bar, the Poop Deck, where the group meets for happy hour on the second night. Some people are going on toward the Exumas. Others are staying behind for a day or two until the strong north winds clear.

Further south, uptown, the main street, Bay Street, passes an area in transition which abruptly becomes the downtown area. Here the cruise ships dock, and there are three in port. The police are dressed in crisp white uniforms. There are high end diamond and watch shops, Gucci, fancy clothing stores. The government buildings are here, all pink colored, a throwback to the English colonial period that ended in 1974 with Bahamian independence.

The Bahamian National Gallery of Art

We walk up to the National Art Gallery of the Bahamas, a converted 19th-century mansion. The theme is 40 years of independence, and the exhibit showcases modern Bahamian artists. The style ranges from realistic to colorful island paintings to abstract. There are some politically themed works.

There is also an exhibit commemorating the sinking of the Flamingo. Shortly after independence, the new nation's defense forces ship intercepted two Cuban fishing boats in Bahamian waters. They detained the fishermen. Claiming piracy, the Cubans sent a warplane to attack the Flamingo. When the crew abandoned the ship, the plane strafed the lifeboats and swimming crew members, killing four Bahamians. In poetry and paintings, the Bahamians remembered that incident. In a series of photographs a Cuban ballerina interprets the Morse code of the Bahamian report of the survivors. We read newspaper reports and a letter from a displaced Bahamian saying, "See. I told you this would happen when you voted to leave the protection of the mother country." 

We read the Cuban government's apology to the Bahamians. The two countries currently enjoy an excellent relationship. You can get a Cuban cohiba here. And why not? Observed the commander, "You gotta love a country who names a warship 'Flamingo.' "

The Bahamian pledge goes, "I pledge my allegiance to the flag and to the Commonwealth of the Bahamas for which it stands, one people united in love and service."

On the way back down Bay Street, we stopped at Potter's Cay. This is a collection of food shacks selling fried fish and conch. I had the usual lunch, cracked conch and a Kalik. The plate came with salad and french fries. For the commander, the cook made a lovely stew of fresh snapper, onions, peppers and spices, served with peas and rice. We bought some limes, oranges, and fresh vegetables from another stall. On a second visit, we found a nearby fishing boat and bought a few Bahamian lobsters that we grilled back on Luna.

At Potter's Cay is a bridge that crosses the harbor from Nassau over to Paradise Island and the mega-resort, Atlantis. We did not take the short walk across the bridge on this visit.

The skipper with Ret. Police Inspector, Nigel Clarke

The highlight of our stay was a visit with a man my father and Siri met while cruising here 30 years ago. They became friends and have remained in contact. I have his phone number. Nigel Clarke is a retired Nassau police inspector. He was the director of the Bahamian Police Band, and played saxophone. Thus he met my father, a fellow saxophonist. Nigel picked us up. We spent the afternoon with him and his wife driving around the island, he pointing out the sights to us while calling out greetings to his many friends. It seems Nigel knows everyone in Nassau.

We passed the high wall that separated white areas from black areas before Bahamians achieved majority rule. We drove past very fancy residential areas at the west end of the island. We passed the airport and the Bahamian national university, And we stopped at Arawak Cay, another collection of better established food vendors and small restaurants. We went to Nigel's favorite fried food place. The commander and I split a bowl of conch chowder and an order of fried grouper, which came with french fries, cole slaw, and peas and rice. I loved the place, where the locals know to eat. We were nearly the only white faces there.

Mar-a-Lago, Amarone II, and Luna are the only boats left of the original fleet. We all met and discussed plans for leaving. Wind is shifting to the east then south for the next 4 or 5 days, and it looks like tomorrow we can sail to Allen's Cay, our first stop in the Exumas. We look at the charts, agree on the course, and make plans to leave.

1/10/2014  Nassau Harbour to Rose Island, southwest anchorage. 15 nm

Today was another of those days whose forecast did not match its actual weather. Expecting south winds, becoming southwest, we headed southeast for Allen's Cay, the first popular anchorage in the Exumas. The wind, uncooperative as it might be, remained southeast and built in intensity. The waves grew to 4-6 feet. Squalls passed close to us to the south.

The three boats talked on the VHF. It became apparent that at the speed we were capable of maintaining, we would not get to Allen's Cay before sunset unless the wind abated or shifted. The commander suggested we turn back and go to Rose Island, only a few miles from Nassau Harbour. Everyone jumped at the idea. We covered 15 nautical miles, but only made three miles toward our destination in the Exumas.

The anchorage at Rose Island is protected by a reef to the south, and so does not have the waves we saw on the outside. However, there are swells, and we spent an uncomfortable night rolling around on the anchor.

By morning, the winds have not abated, and it looks like the next day will be a better day to travel. There is another anchorage at Rose Island, on the north side. This should afford better protection from the swells of the night before.

Floating in the calm water of Rose Island

It happens in Vermont, where the weather can be harsh for long periods of time, that an occasional sunny day feels like a precious gift from the gods. One feels elevated on these days, lighter, happier.

The anchorage on the northern side of Rose Island was a similar gift from the gods. It sits off a white beach. The water is clear. The south wind on this side is gentle. The sun is shining.There are reefs to snorkel. Nassau is visible in the distance to the west. We have nothing to do but sit in the sun, swim, walk on the beach, admire the view. After all the traveling, we have arrived.

1/12/14 Rose Island to Allen's Cay. 33 nm.

The south wind abated and turned to the southwest. Four boats set out from the anchorage, turned the corner of the island, and set sail for Allen's Cay.

This is the first time since Pamlico Sound in North Carolina that we could actually sail somewhere. Motors off. Making 5-6 kts before a 10-12 kt wind. Luna is doing great in general, but we're most proud of her when we can hoist the sails and feel her take off in the wind. We pass Haven and Amarone II, the two other boats of similar size. Only Mar-a-Lago, the 42-footer, outdistances us.

Sailing into the sun, the fleet crosses the Bahamas Bank to the exumas

Eventually, the wind decreases, and the motors come on. Reluctantly, we motor sail to stay with the rest. We want to get to Allen's by early afternoon. Setting a destination and an arrival time is the enemy of sailing.

Halfway over, we pass the Yellow Bank. Here, coral heads reach up from the bottom, appearing as black patches in the water. Striking one would seriously damage Luna's keel. Or worse. We douse the jib so we can see forward, and the commander stands at the bow, ready to point out the right course. As it turns out, she has entered a course in the i-Pad that goes between all the charted coral heads. We never have to alter course suddenly, and we have an uneventful crossing.

Inguanas greet visitors at Allen's Cay

We reach Allen's Cay by 2:30. This is the customary first stop below Nassau, and the anchorage is already crowded. It's a lovely little harbor, ringed by beaches and coral. Iguanas live on the island and come onto the beach expecting to be fed. About the size of a chihuahua, iguanas are endangered, and it is illegal to feed them. It is clear not everyone complies. The beach is full of big lizards. They approach but are not tame. I hear the little buggers love fruit. Carve a scale model of New York City out of apples and lay it down. You could film your own version of Godzilla.

We swim in the crystal clear water. Through a swim mask, I can see a young conch traveling along the bottom. She leaves a track as she goes along. One from the group of boats organizes a happy hour on the beach, and we bring our drinks in by dinghy. Close to 20 people show up. Several bring snacks. We meet new people and discuss our adventures. Most of the group have shared the same experiences coming south. Those we haven't met already, we've heard talking on the radio along the waterway.

Another nice day. Luna gets to sail. We reach a beautiful harbor. There are iguanas. What more could one ask?

1/13/14 Allen's Cay.

We spent another day here. We're enjoying the absence of the urge to keep moving. It's not that there's that much to do here. But that's not the point. You could spend the whole day drinking in the scenery. If fact, the only reason to move at all is the thought that it might be even nicer somewhere down the line.

There was one of life's little victories today. The holding tank. When we were in Stuart, I installed a pump to drain the holding tank in the Bahamas. I tried this out on the way across from Florida. The tank indicator continued to read 2/3 full. It didn't appear the pump had worked. I tried it again coming across from Nassau with the same results.

There are few pump out facilities in the Bahamas, and if the apparatus isn't working, I don't see how we can stay here. During one of those sleepless periods, I decide I will take the pump apart, see if it needs anything, and we will have to sail back to Nassau to get parts or a new pump.

But first, I will inspect the tank itself. See if there is a clog at the outlet. Without delving into too much information, I imagine this will be an unpleasant task. After breakfast, I take the V-berth apart in the bow. The pump, tubing, and wiring look fine. The inspection port for the tank is under here. I take a breath. I open the tank--it is empty! The pump is working. The tank level indicator is not. As Click and Clack might say to a caller whose check engine light keeps going on: "Fix it with a piece of black electrical tape (over the bulb)." I am happy. We don't have to leave the group.

The group  has established a nice tradition: Happy hour beach parties. We visit and talk about leaving in the morning. There are some strong winds forecast--first from the south and then from the north. We decide to leave for Norman's Cay in the morning. Here, an anchorage on the south end affords protection from either north or south winds.

1/14/14  Allen's Cay to Norman's Cay, Exumas, Bahamas 14 nm.

The strong winds came last night. There were rain squalls, and we had to get up and close the hatches. The wind gauge read 20 kts with gusts up to 28. The boats in the harbor were moving all around their anchors, Luna was pitching and bucking. The halyards were slapping on the aluminum mast. All this made a long night with not much sleep. I spent most of the night on anchor watch, making sure we did not collide with a neighboring boat. I noticed the lights in Mar-a-Lago's cabin were on every time I looked over. For us both, all was fine.

8 am radio check time, and we decided to leave. The wind would be on our nose at 15-20 kts, but we're only going 14 miles to Norman's. We reached the anchorage on the south end. There is a strong current here that reverses with the tides. The boats at anchor stay as far apart as possible.

Norman's Cay attained some notoriety during the 1970's. In the drug trafficking days. Much of the property was bought by Colombian drug lord, Carlos Lehder. There is an airport here. He moved a lot of cocaine through this island. There is one of his DC-3's sitting in the shallow water of the harbor where it crashed after taking off from the air strip here. We are anchored near the wreck. It is a popular snorkeling site.  After the crash, he reportedly told his lieutenant, "Go out and buy another one!"

Much of the island is under development, and we met one of the new owners. They are putting in a marina, improving the airstrip to handle jets, building some luxury units, and refurbishing McDuff's, the island's restaurant. He figures it will be done in two years. Bahamian time, of course. It didn't look like much work was being done.

We took our dinghy to the beach and walked past the drug complex, decaying in the bushes. We walked down the road to the airstrip. A worn sign said, "Welcome to Norman's Cay." We met a young Bahamian pilot standing by his twin engine plane. He takes charters from the various islands to Nassau. For $500, up to five people can charter his plane one way. His company is Uhuru Airline. He is a Trekkie.

The group of sailboats has found a lovely island for happy hour. There is a palm tree here. Bruce, from Amarone II brings a bucket with a large trigger fish inside. From the boat anchored next to him, the fisherman had caught more than he could use. He offered Bruce the fish. Bruce offered a filet to the group, and we stepped up to accept.

He filleted the fish at the beach, throwing the carcass into the water by the shore. Minutes later, a 4-foot shark appeared in the shallows looking for the pieces. He was practically walking on the rocks. Not 30 minutes before this, the commander and I were swimming off the back of Luna. Would we have refrained if we knew about the shark? I doubt it. We know they are everywhere.

The sun set to the west of the small island. We saw the ephemeral green flash as the last of the sun reached the horizon. The nearly full moon rose in the east. Meanwhile, the fresh trigger fish, brushed with olive oil and rubbed with Caribbean seasoning, was excellent right off the grill. What a treat. The commander paid it forward by giving a few cuttings off the basil plant from Luna's garden as well as a few hot Bahamian goat peppers from Nassau to Krista on Harmonium.

1/15/14  Norman's Cay

More severe weather is on the way, and we elected to stay put. There is a strong south wind again today, and a strong cold front due tomorrow. This anchorage is fairly well protected from the north when the front hits.

The sky is cloudy, and the strong south wind roils the water of the anchorage. Taking the dinghy out would be a wet ride. We stay on Luna and catch up on reading, do some cleaning. We meet on Mar-a-Lago for happy hour and review the weather. Looks like we might be staying here for several days. I advocate for leaving tomorrow if we can. The anchorage at Warderick Wells offers good protection from the north, and this would be a far more interesting place to be than here.

Overnight, the storm hits. There is heavy rain. North winds reach gale force. The boats pitch and turn in the anchorage. We're wakened at least once an hour by the howling of the wind, the lurching of Luna, or the clanging of the halyards on the mast. Hourly, I mark our GPS  position on the i-Pad to make sure we are not dragging our anchor. Luna moves in an arc around the anchor as she should. Around 4 am, the wind subsides, and we manage a few hours sleep.

1/16/14 Norman's Cay to Warderick Wells 22.4 nm.

It's time for the 8 am radio check-in on VHF channel 8. There are 4 sleepy people on the air. Everyone was up all night on anchor watch. The first front has passed. It looks like there might be an opportunity today to sail south. Winds are forecast to move from west to northwest at 10-15 kts.

The rain did provide one useful benefit. There are two inches of fresh water in the dinghy. I taste it--not noticeably salty. I am able to pump five bucketsful to refill our water tank. We are using this water only for washing, but as a precaution, we dump a quarter-cup of clorox into the 28-gallon tank.

One of the group confirms our reservation for four mooring balls at Warderick Wells, and four anchors come up at 10 am. For once, the wind is in our favor, and we hoist sails after leaving the harbor entrance. The motor is off. We are making good speed.

GPS technology is so precise that it allows you to navigate from one waypoint to the next. Certain routes are actually marked on the electronic chart, and the commander can create our own route using latitude and longitude coordinates of waypoints published on the charts.

Having defined waypoints creates a certain navigational rigidity in the minds of some sailors. I am constantly reminded: watch the sails. Forget about the GPS. As long as there is deep water and no rocks, we take the waypoints and routes as suggestions only, trim the sails for the course, and play on the wind. Luna is at the front of the pack, sailing with Amarone II close behind.

As before, the group remains in communication by VHF. "Luna, I see on my chart there is a rock right off your starboard."  "Thanks, Bruce. We can see it on our chart and are passing to the north of it." There is a sense of security in traveling with buddy boats.

We are on a broad reach on a starboard tack. We sail south and east of our next waypoint to keep the jib full. We fight the urge to gybe and head toward our point. Patience.  A few miles further south, I see on the Garmin that the waypoint bears about 135 degrees, and we can keep the sails full at 180 degrees, a 45-degree difference. We gybe and can maintain a good course to the next point.

We enter the mooring field at Emerald Rock. It's in the middle of the island south of the offices of the Exumas Land and Sea Park, which is headquartered here. This is a beautiful protected harbor lined with limestone hills and small beaches. There is an expansive view to the west. In the forecast there will be no strong winds from that direction. There is land on all other sides.

The group meets on one of the beaches. Hopefully, the winds will become calm enough to allow snorkeling on all the reefs around us. There are hiking trails on the island to beaches on the ocean side. There is a lot of exploring to do. We plan to stay here for a few days.

As we leave the beach to return to the boats, the north wind picks up. The bay becomes choppier. The boats start to rock. It looks like we might be in for another rough night, but we are securely moored, and there will be no need to keep an anchor watch. All will sleep well tonight.

1/17-1/18/14 Warderick Wells

Warderick Wells. The name, Warderick, makes me smile. It suggests the second of a two-word command issued by Python Michael Palin, playing the speech-afflicted Roman emperor in the film, Life of Brian. The first word, of course, is, "we-LEASE."

The island offers hiking trails maintained by park volunteers, most of whom are cruisers. The park's roster of supporters includes some heavy hitters like Nicole Kidman, Jimmy Buffett, Tom Cruise, and the Bacardi Family. No wonder. The place is gorgeous. And we haven't had a chance to snorkel on some of the reefs yet.

Trails lead to high places with views of the harbor beyond. There are ruins of an old loyalist plantation to survey. Given the rocks, dry climate, and lack of soil, we can't imagine what they might have grown. We did learn that the island was forested at one time, but once they harvested the trees, severe weather has prevented their regrowth.

We did hike up to Boo Boo Hill. Boo Boo is a Bahamian word for ghosts, not minor skin injuries. There was a shipwreck with no survivors off the island. There is a shrine of sorts to the dead. On top of the hill, cruisers leave mementos of their boats--pieces of driftwood and other flotsam with their boat names on it. This is an offering to the weather gods for fair winds and weather. I leave Luna's name on a plaque. We need all the help we can get.

There is a series of cold fronts passing through. And the weather has been cool and cloudy for several days. Too cold and the water too rough for much swimming. Had I known this weather pattern, I might have chosen a wind charger to keep our batteries up rather than a solar panel. As it is, we are running Luna's engine for an hour twice a day to keep the batteries charged.

We're waiting out the current front, and will head out for Staniel Cay. The weather on the 19th had other plans.  We had another night of strong north winds and rough seas. Not much better by morning. Harmonium left, but we elected to stay. We took a splashy dinghy ride into the waves to the park office. Used the internet there. Registered for another night. The commander left a book at the book exchange, and I picked up an Elmore Leonard book, the kind you can read in a single day when you're bobbing at a mooring. Cloudy and cool. We hear it's 48 degrees in Marsh Harbor in the northern Bahamas. We're in the low 70's.


1/19/14 Warderick Wells to Big Major Spot, Staniel Cay Bahamas, 22.5 nm.

The wind moderated overnight. This morning, it is blowing from the north at around 15 kts, but seas are flatter. We elect to move on.

This actually happened. Three days ago, coming back from happy hour, I dropped my sunglasses in the water next to the boat. It was getting dark. I wasn't sure what I had in my pocket, so I didn't jump in after them. I made several passes with mask and snorkel in the morning, but found no sign of them. The tides here sweep the bottom clean twice a day. There is no debris on the bottom, and the water is crystal clear. No doubt the sunglasses are out to sea in some deep hole off the banks. Luckily, I have a spare clip-in pair.

Today, as we prepared to leave, the commander looked in the water and said, "I think I see your sunglasses." Bear in mind, the water is 10 feet deep, according to the depth sounder. I looked over. She could be right. There is a black shape on the sandy bottom. What the sea takes away, she could just as well serve up again.

The air is cool, but the water is warm. I put on the mask and snorkel and climb down the swim ladder and have a look. Sure enough, the glasses are on the bottom off the starboard side of the boat, where I dropped them. Flippers on, I swam down and retrieved them. While down, I saw a rag off the other side of the boat. Hung to dry on the lifeline, it had blown off two nights ago. I went back down and retrieved that also.

The trip south to Staniel Cay was an uneventful run with jib only. We left the motor on to charge the battery. We anchored in a large cove with 16 other boats. This is the site of the famous swimming pigs. It's interesting to see what inhabits Bahamian beaches. From iguanas to pigs. We saw the pigs on a distant beach. They come to you to be fed. Apparently, they like carrots. We'll see. In calmer conditions, they swim out to boats at anchor, looking for a handout.

Late in the afternoon, the sun came out, the first time in 5 days.There was a lingering sunset. Looks like the front has finally passed, though another is on the way. Our plan is to stay at the marina for a night to restock water, fuel, food. Run the battery charger. We'll do laundry. Communication has been spotty at these uninhabited out islands. and we can use the internet.  We're looking forward to having a meal or two in town.

Internet service has been a problem since we left Nassau. Our plan with Verizon has been charged for megabytes of data we haven't used, so we're off that. The public Bahamian network on the out islands is slow. They know it. Here's what the network home page has to say:

This service uses a satellite uplink for all traffic. On its best day, it will seem slow compared to any land-based service. It's 22 thousand miles to the satellite, which means it's 44 thousand miles before your request hits the Internet, and 44 thousand for the data to come back. No matter how you slice it, 88 thousand miles may take more than a few seconds for a response. So remember, you're in the Central Exumas with the most beautiful water and Cay's anywhere on the planet. Fast Internet is available at most office buildings and cubicles in the states. Would you really want to trade where you are for a cubicle?

The secret to happy surfing on a slow network?
1. Click on the link
2. Take a drink of your Kalik
3. Repeat steps 1 and 2 above until network appears to have blazing speed.




I will say, we are enjoying the Kaliks. But, publishing photos will have to wait for another day.

Hello from the Exumas