3/1/14




Hope Town

From the Captain

We pulled away from Marsh Harbour on the high tide. With the rain the past two days, Hope Town harbor has been full of boats. We have a friend, Frank, on Eleanor Q, there. When we checked in on VHF channel 8, he reported that several boats have already left and he expects others will follow. There are already empty mooring balls in the harbor.

Amarone II was the first to leave. Having the deepest draft, Bruce is most concerned with tides. He will arrive first and reserve two other moorings for Luna and Mar-a-Lago. He will make the reservation by tying a floating fender to the pennant of an unoccupied mooring.

We will follow behind, but first we need to pump out our holding tank. We will sail several miles out of our way to do this.

A couple days ago, before the front passed, we took the dinghy and our snorkel gear across the harbor to the Marsh Harbour Marina. From there, we walked a quarter-mile or so down the road to a path leading to a rocky beach. Off the beach is a sign for Mermaid Reef. Mermaid Reef is an artificial reef created by a local SCUBA dive shop several years ago. It was an easy swim out, and the reef was full of colorful fish. The fish somehow know the area is a wildlife sanctuary, and we hear the local guides feed them. They are not shy. Schools of them swim right by. They don't hurry away from us. They seem close enough to touch, but are just out of reach. It was lovely.

And the water was murky.

I'm sure one pleasure boat pumping its holding tank near the shore will not affect water clarity. But if all do it, as most probably do, water quality suffers.

We are concerned with water quality in the area. We have a pamphlet from an Abaco environmental group that advises not pumping waste within three miles of shore. On the way to Hope Town, we use the measuring function on the GPS to select a point near the cut to the ocean north of Man-O-War that's three miles from Marsh Harbour and Great Abaco Island to the west and the barrier islands to the east. The tide is going out, and here we open the valve and turn on the macerator pump to empty the tank. The tide scours the Sea of Abaco, changing 50% of its water with each cycle.

We arrived at Hope Town harbor right behind Mar-a-Lago. The iconic red-and-white-striped lighthouse guided us to the harbor's mouth. When we visited here 35 years ago, there was a very narrow channel into the harbor. There was a range to guide boats in and very few boats anchored here.

Now, there is a wider, dredged and buoyed channel. Entering the harbor is not difficult. Even two hours after high tide, the water depth measures 6.5 feet. And Hope Town is no longer a quiet little settlement. The harbor is full of moorings, very close together. Like sardines in a can, boats fill the harbor. The engineering is sound. Boats swing, but do not touch. It costs us $20 per night for the mooring.

Hope Town harbor moorings

 The little town has become a popular tourist destination with several resort hotels and many cottages for rent. Water taxis motor through and around the anchorage. We get settled and motor over to a dinghy dock.

Beyond the shore, the town is as we remembered it. Neatly kept houses line paved streets no wider than sidewalks. Bougainvillea add color. Other vegetation is lush There are no cars. The island, Elbow Cay, is narrow, so there is one street by the water front that travels all the way down to the tip, where Tahiti Beach is a popular anchorage across the water from Lubbers' Landing. There are golf carts on the low road. But there are none, or very few, on Back Street, Hope Town's high road toward the beach.

There are more shops than I remember. We visited the tourist bureau right next to the ice cream shop down by the main dinghy landing and government dock. There was a party and bake sale in town to benefit the fire department. The firemen were giving kids a ride on the shiny red Isuzu fire truck. We visited the Wyannie Malone Museum. She was the first woman to settle in Hope Town, and the museum shows early life on the island. There is an interesting sea shell collection, and reference to wrecking and salvage of ships on the reef, but otherwise, the artifacts are not all that different from what you'd find in a small town in Kansas or even Vermont.

And, of course, we walked on the beach. The sand is fine and has a pinkish cast. Just a sampler today. We'll take a longer walk tomorrow. We climbed back into town and walked down to the harbor. At the Harbour's Edge Restaurant we met the group for happy hour and dinner. It's pizza night on Saturdays. Remembering Snappas, I had the jerk chicken quesadilla.



Somewhat more balanced in an international sense, the group now includes Frank. He is from southern New Jersey and keeps his lovely Gozzard 41 sloop,  Eleanor Q, in Annapolis. MaryMarie, his wife, is visiting family in the States and is due back in a couple of days.

We watched as the sun set next to the candy-striped lighthouse. As darkness fell, the light came on, and its five-lens clockwork mechanism began to turn. Five focused rays of light pierce the darkness. Then there is a period of dim light called the "soul."  The pattern repeats itself every 15 seconds. On the nautical charts, this is noted, "GP fl w (5) ev 15 sec 120FT 15M" -- a group of 5 white flashes every 15 seconds 120 feet above sea level visible for 15 nautical miles.

3/2/14 Hope Town

The Hope Town lighthouse is open to the public, and we took the the short dinghy ride to the landing, right at the harbor. The lighthouse sits at the top of a very well trimmed lawn with soft grass. A hedge of purple morning glories lines the western border. It keeps watch over  the town and the harbor. 

There are 101 stairs to the top. The view of the harbor, of the ocean beyond, and of the Sea of Abaco on the west side were worth the effort. As was the opportunity to learn about the history of the lighthouse and to see the clockwork mechanism up close.

The British built lighthouses in the Bahamas in 1864 in order to protect its ships from the deadly offshore reefs. At the time, many Abaconians made their living from salvaging shipwrecks, so the lighthouse was not popular. In 1936, the (British) Imperial Lighthouse Service added the clockwork mechanism and lenses that extended seaward the visibility of the light.

In the Hope Town lighthouse

The rotating mechanism, manufactured in England in 1900, weighs between 3 and 4 tons and turns in a bath of liquid mercury. There is a series of gears to turn the light, turned by a long cable wrapped around a shaft and attached to a weight in the center of the lighthouse. Once every two hours, the light keeper must climb the stairs and wind the cable back up with a crank. The whole thing works like a giant grandfather clock. It's one of only three hand-wound lighthouses left in the world.

The light itself is a huge kerosene vaporizer that lights a mantle similar to a camping lantern. There is no electricity involved in this lighthouse. At the end of the world, when all the power goes down and the GPS no longer works, you'll still be able to find your way safely around the Elbow Cay reef.

Currently, the Elbow Reef Lighthouse Society maintains and operates the lighthouse. In the age of electronic beacons, this lighthouse is for show only. We hear there were three lighthouse keepers. One has passed on. One is nursing a foot injury from last fall and can't climb the stairs to wind the mechanism. The third climbed up last night, wound the mechanism, and lit the lamp. The light turned next to the new moon, its five sharp rays repeating every 15 seconds. After two hours, when the mechanism wound down, the lighthouse was dark for the rest of the night.

View of the harbor and the ocean from the Hope Town lighthouse

The next day, six of us rented bicycles to explore the island. Elbow Cay is six miles long, and Hope Town sits near the northern end. We checked the bikes out at the T shirt shop at the public dock and rode south. The narrow road took us past some restaurants and resorts, and we stopped to check out possible lunch spots.

The most interesting was On Da Beach, which is, as might be imagined, right on the beach, a mile or so south of town. The sign announced, "No shirt, no shoes, no problem. Closed Mondays." There was one problem. It was Monday.

The Firefly Resort looks out on the Sea of Abaco. The Abaco Inn faces the sea. The Boathouse Resort and Marina has an outdoor restaurant and bar. The defunct Elbow Cay Club looks like a hurricane hit it and is decaying on the beach.These are toward the southern end of the island, which is built up with the resorts and vacation homes. Vacant ocean front lots are for sale. Homes range from modest to

Bicycling in Hope Town

mega, though more are in the mid range. With access to a golf cart and a go-fast boat, you could spend your vacation here happily.

The road ends at Tahiti Beach, a huge sandy peninsula extending into the Sea of Abaco between Elbow Cay and Lubbers. At mid tide, when we arrived, much was still underwater. Yachts are anchored in the little bay to the north. We had a brief swim in the shallow sea. There is no surf here.

On the way back, we stopped at The Boathouse for lunch, then rode back into town. There is a mile or so of island north of Hope Town, and we rode there before returning our bikes.

The northern end of the island is by far the more interesting. The pavement stops just above the town. There is a narrow dirt road to the north. Here the vegetation lining the road is thick and there are older vacation homes on shaded lots with well established landscaping. These must be the homes of the original vacationers to Hope Town. The ones on the southern end are newer, and seem a little tackier by comparison.

We rode to the tip of the island, and the road circled back. Above the T Shirt shop, where we left the bicycles, we rewarded ourselves at the ice cream shop. We'd spent the whole day exploring the small island in Bahamian time. After a short walk to the Harbour View Grocery for a half gallon of orange juice, six cans of quinine water, and some fresh lettuce, we were back on Luna in time for happy hour.

On Tuesday, we had breakfast at the coffee shop and used their free wifi connection. Then, we went across the harbor to the marina where for $4.00, you can use their shower. The group gathered at a table in the outdoor restaurant to discuss plans for moving on. There is a cold front coming in two days, and Mar-a-Lago and Amarone are inclined to wait here in Hope Town. We, on the other hand, are anxious to move on, and will leave in the morning for Man-O-War, about five miles to the north. They will catch up with us later in the week.


We walked around the town searching for the dinghy maker, Wyner Malone. Two of his traditionally-built wooden Abaco dinghies are on display at the lighthouse. We checked in the

Wyner Malone in his workshop

museum to see if he is still around. "He lives near Vernon's Grocery. Check with them," the attendant told us.

Vernon Malone runs the town's second grocery, up on the Back Road, and performs marriages in his spare time. He pointed us to a house two doors away Under a flat roof, Wyner was in his outdoor shop hand-sawing a rib out of a piece of tree root or branch curved perfectly for the shape he needed. "I don't do this much anymore," he said. "I get younger people to saw the ribs. I mostly make models now." There is a partially-built sailing dinghy next to him. In his eighties, he has been building boats for over 50 years. There is not a power tool visible in his shop. Nor any plans or drawings.

Abaco Dinghy

We went back to thank Vernon for pointing us in the right direction. We had also read that he makes and sells legendary key lime pies here. We walked out with a couple nice tomatoes and a warm key lime pie that must have just left the oven. The pie passed our make-or-break initial test--it was covered with meringue instead of whipped cream. These days, we find, very few are made this way.

We will not see our friends for awhile, so I suggested we all meet at Captain Jacks, a restaurant on the harbor not very far from Luna's mooring. Tonight is margarita and taco night. Two fish tacos (grouper) for $6.00 and margaritas for happy hour, dos para uno. None could resist. All eight of us gathered (Frank's wife, MaryMarie, arrived by plane to Marsh Harbour and ferry to Hope Town today) for a dinner that extended from 5-8 pm, beginning with the margaritas and ending with a slice of Vernon Malone's excellent key lime pie.

In many respects, Hope Town has been our nicest anchorage. It is a well-protected harbor like Hatchet Bay. Luna sits on a secure mooring. The town is visually appealing, wonderfully pleasant, and there are a lot of interesting restaurants and shops. You can walk or bike everywhere. There is only one thing we have not found here: the Bahamian smile.

Keep watch over the Hope Town inlet

Occasionally in the out islands, we have run across a person whose smile lights our day. Sidney Poitier is Bahamian, born at the southern end of the island chain on Cat Island. His is that wide, very open face and welcoming smile that we have seen as we travelled. Shanee, the manager of Da Spot in Hatchet Bay has such a smile. The last time we saw it was on Monique, our server at Mangoes restaurant. Imagine such positive energy focussed right on you. It's so warm you could melt.  I find it hard to describe otherwise--you know it when you see it.

I have no way of knowing this, but perhaps that smile is the living remnant of the Lucayan Indian culture that Columbus found when he landed here. A branch of the Arawak Indians of the Caribbean, the Lucayans were described as very friendly. Of course, the Spaniards subsequently managed to eliminate the culture through enslavement and disease. The drawings of Lucayans in the books suggest a people with thinner faces and finer features than those with African ancestry on whom we see the smile now.

In any case, most of the people in Hope Town are of English ancestry and much more reserved. We met a lot of ex-pats here, and there are loads of vacationers and yachties. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. The atmosphere is relaxed. The vibes are happy. But nowhere that omigod smile.

On the beach at Hope Town