Spanish Wells

Wednesday, January 28th: Spanish Wells, St. George's Cay

Looking out at the Beach at Spanish Wells

We left Marsh Harbour on Sunday morning and sailed to Lynyard Cay where we anchored for the night. On the other side of the cay we could hear ocean waves crashing. The following day, we would be venturing through a cut between islands and out into the Atlantic.

We put our dinghy in the water and scooted around stopping to talk to crew from 2 other boats. Both were there to swing on the hook with no intention of leaving the Abacos. In other years, they had made the trip to the Exumas as we planned to do, loved the experience but also loved the Abacos with its beautiful cays and anchorages as well as towns, services and stores that are never far away. The Exumas, on the other hand, involve a trip of several days to get to their awesomely beautiful but sparsely populated cays. Once there, finding secure moorings and traveling from place to place over coral heads makes for a unique but challenging experience - or so we've read.

To reach the Exumas, we would be crossing the Northeast Providence Channel to get to the tip of Eleuthera, and then choosing a route that goes south and then west to the chain of Exuma Islands (I've decided that it's time to spell Exuma correctly!). Crossing the channel is the first big step. We would be in ocean waters that with high winds can build tall unpleasant waves. In the preceding 2 days, when groups of boats had set out from Lynyard Cay to go across the channel, winds had been manageable; wave height, moderate. For the following day (when we planned to cross), Chris Parker, predicted winds out of the north (a good direction for a sailboat going south) and wind speeds of 10-15 knots, but as he admitted on his 6:30 a.m. single sideband broadcast the day after we crossed, he had made a rare mistaken prediction. If we had heard an accurate forecast, we likely wouldn't have left.

At 7 the next morning, we set out. Mary and I were only just slightly less anxious than we had been for our Gulf Stream crossing. We were traveling in daylight - yes - but the passage was expected to take 10 hours and we had an unfamiliar anchorage in a tricky location to get into before dusk.

Southern Vectis in the Northeast Providence Channel

At first winds were in the expected the 10 - 15 knot range but as the day progressed, they increased and began gusting to 20 knots. Accordingly, the waves built until some, we think, were as high as 6 or 7 feet. All of this sounds awful but actually it was not. The time between ocean waves can be several seconds. As they build, the boat tends to ride up and over them so that they are not necessarily looming 7 feet above. Also - the wind was on our beam (mid-boat) so that we were able to turn off the engine and sail about as fast as our boat allowed - 7+ knots for a good part of the day. That's fast for a 35 ft. sailboat. With sails up, both Southern Vectis and Sea Change cut a steady path through the water with a minimum of tossing about. Some waves splashed over the Sea Change deck showering us occasionally in salt water but not so with Southern Vectis - it is a bigger boat with more freeboard (more boat above the water). Our crossing was so fast that both boats reached the last waypoint in 8 hours rather than in the expected 10.

Finally we were close enough to turn on the engine and take down the sails. Bob turned the engine key and pushed the button - the engine began to turn over, whined a little and then with a clunk, stopped. Bob tried again. With more whining the engine clunked and stopped a second time. My heart went to the bottom of my stomach and I began to shake. This was a very bad time to be without an engine - but Bob wasn't panicking yet - he told me to turn the battery selector from the starting battery to "both" (starting and house batteries) and then he tried again - the engine turned over and then as it threatened to sputter to a stop once again, Bob pushed the throttle forward - the engine raced - he pulled the throttle back and we were in business. Still shaking - I listened to the engine and was convinced it was running rough, clunking - all manner of scary things - Bob lifted the stairs to have a look and listen to the engine behind. "It's fine", he said. He was unconcerned and cited possible dirty fuel as the cause. He would add "conditioner" when we were safely at anchor. And that was that. We've had no problem since.

As we neared Royal Island, our destination that day, Mary wisely put out a call to other boats also making the crossing - asking whether the closest charted entrance was safely passable in this "wild weather". One captain responded that he had just gone through the cut with room to spare and plenty of water under his 6 ft. keel. A second boat called to give us a heads up on how to safely enter the inner harbour where we would be anchoring for the night. From there, we carefully picked our way in following behind Southern Vectis while they consulted the anchorage chart in their excellent Pavlidis guide book.

The anchorage at Royal Island is a little dismal. Vegetation is sparse and the land has a desolate look. We all agreed to make the short run the next day to the marina in the town of Spanish Wells and what a lovely little place it has turned out to be. We are staying for the next few days until the next cold front - expected on Friday - comes through and settles through Saturday and Sunday. We hope to be able to move on near the first of the week.

Homes in Spanish Wells are built to withstand hurricanes. All have hurricane shutters or a place above and below the windows where they can be attached. The family auto - a golf cart sits in the driveway. The main industry here is fishing - note the fishing net hanging in the side yard. This home is fairly sedate looking but the trim on many is much brighter - lime green, pink, aqua or turquoise.

It's hot here and the beach is absolutely stunning. We've been busy with boat chores - both inside, outside, and electronic but fun times are ahead. This morning, Bob helped Bill free his jammed in-mast main sail and as a thank you, the Mursells have ordered dinner for us all from the local "take out" (a kind of shed/kitchen) - and we can hardly wait. We have already placed our orders. Dinner is being delivered at 6. My pork chop dinner (the special tonight) includes fried plantains along with "peas and rice" - commonly served with most dishes here in the Bahamas.Yumm.

Spanish Wells - the water is so clear, it's hard to tell where water meets the sand beach.

Tomorrow, we are taking a fast ferry to visit Harbour Island which is reputed to be a must see but for now, just walking around Spanish Wells and down to it's lovely beach has been a treat. - and the funniest thing, I think, is how we stocked up so completely at Marsh Harbour, expecting to encounter only tiny poorly stocked grocery stores from there on - but yesterday - in the course of our walk around to discover the town - Bob and I came upon a gigantic, well stocked store - bigger, Bob thinks, than the one where we shopped at Marsh Harbour. There's not much that we need now - not after all the frenzied "stocking up" that we did in Fort Lauderdale and again in Marsh Harbour - but we'll stop by on Saturday (everything closes on Sunday) - and pick up a few missing items (one or two) as well as some fresh veggies - they are difficult to keep in our humid fridge - or even in our hanging vegetable net during these warm down south days.

Time to Re-Provision

Saturday, January 24th: Marsh Harbor

We went through The Whale yesterday morning - escaping at last from Green Turtle Cay. There were rolling swells of 5 feet or so - very manageable seas which made for an easy crossing. It's not that we didn't enjoy our stay in that lovely place - but 5 nights on a small island in not so balmy weather were more than enough and we were glad to be moving once again. Always, after we've had our hot showers and done our exploring and our wash, we're glad to be on the move.


We sailed straight to Marsh Harbor, saying good-bye to Somewhere In Time as they turned toward Guana Cay where they'll stay until Sunday for the Pig Roast at Nippers restaurant and yes, we did sail - turning off our engine for the last half of the trip. It was great to be able to sail again (and save on diesel)!

Marsh Habour is the third largest city in the Bahamas - 5,000 people - so our plan is to take advantage of the large grocery store here to top up on fresh meat and vegetables and canned food supplies before moving south. Once anchored in the bay, we dropped the dinghy and went to have a look. The town is not what I expected - but then - not many places here are. We arrive with experiences of other places to inform our expectations and then nothing matches. True enough, the grocery store is large and well stocked - certainly better than any other we've been to - even the one we were taken to in Freeport - but the town is very different from New Plymouth on Green Turtle Cay with its pastel coloured buildings and clean crisp look. Marsh Harbor seemed a little bedraggled, dusty and haphazard. A second visit this morning left us with a revised impression - we walked away from the commercial centre of town along the waterfront and checked out a couple of stores and marinas along the water. This part of the town is a little more "spiffy". Every marina that we've seen so far in the Abacos also has accommodations for land lovers and with that a dining room or snack area as well as pretty surroundings for guests so sit in and take in the sun - like pools or attractive water side decks and outside dining.


We are just beginning to understand what the Bahamas is all about - it's not about wealth - and it's easy going and relaxed with no worries about smart business practices. People we met at Bluff House, Lisa and John, have spent quite a bit of time in the Abacos (and love the area) told us of some of their experiences. For instance, the first time Lisa went to the bakery in New Plymouth, there was no bread. She asked if there would be bread the next day - and the answer was - maybe. Would there be some the following day? again - maybe. That was all the information available about the bread. The bank there is open 2 days a week and opens at 11 - but doesn't always open at 11 - sometimes later, sometimes not. One day the personnel came but couldn't do business because they had forgotten the money. I think that if you are traveling here, you have to understand the slow paced culture and not get fussed.


Last night we had people over for a drink. Kathy and Andy are from Nanimo BC and they had with them Kathy's sister, Gail who is visiting from Sault St. Marie. They have crossed over from Florida four winters ago, liked Green Turtle Cay so much that they decided to leave their boat there. Now they return every winter. Sounds lovely, doesn't it?


Today, we returned to the grocery store and concentrated this time on getting more canned goods. I've not wanted to buy canned veggies (other than corn) because I find them so unappealing but there will be times when we're traveling along Eleuthera and in the Exhumas when fresh anything will be hard to find. We'll also buy more milk in tretra packs - milk packaged this way is expensive but is tasty and can be stored without refrigeration until opened - perfect for a trip like ours.


Tonight we're going with the Mursells for drinks on a boat owned by people they met last night - they graciously included us in their invitation to the Mursells. After that we'll go to Snappas restaurant for dinner and have a listen to the band for the night- Andy and Kathy especially like the band slated to play so it should be fun. We sailors will have to see if we can manage to stay up past 9:00.


P.S. I'm giving up on uploading any more pictures for this posting - the connection seems good until I try to upload and then it times out - and - I've spent long enough sucking up energy from the boat batteries since they are my energy source while we're on the hook. Adios.

Crossings: Waiting It Out on Green Turtle Cay

Wednesday, January 21st: Green Turtle Cay

From the Wikipedia: A cay (also spelled key or quay; pronounced as "key" IPA: /kiː/) is a small, low-elevation, sandy island formed on the surface of coral reefs.

The town of New Plymouth on Green Turtle Cay

After crossing the Gulf Stream, we felt that we had "arrived" but the feeling was short lived. When we began to study guide books and charts, it was evident that there would be many more arrivals to come - each requiring study and planning.

When we first planned this trip, and before I began reading about sailing in the Bahamas - I pictured crossing from Florida, breathing a sign of relief, and then moving from island to island, from bay to bay in a leisurely relaxed way - soaking up the sun, walking through the sand and swimming in the warm water. Well not quite.

The Bahamas consists of two thousand cays and seven hundred islands that stretch north to south about 550 miles. A first glance at our Explorer chart book for the Northern Bahamas (where we are now) is confusing. While studying various pieces of the area with its myriad cays and channels, it's hard to get a picture of the whole. Where to next? What route to take? Will the shallow waters over Little Bahama Bank be deep enough when we set out? Should we be waiting for high tide? - and in the back of our minds, if we were to run aground, what recourse would we have?

When we left Old Bahama Bay last Thursday, as I described earlier, Sea Change led the way. Although we were following a charted channel, in the beginning there were some uncomfortable moments when the water was too shallow for comfort - but unless we wanted to hide out at Old Bahama Bay for the duration of our stay, there was not much choice but to carry on. Eventually we found ourselves in somewhat deeper water although since the islands and cays of the Bahamas sit on a kind of shelf in the Atlantic, we would seldom be traveling in water deeper than 3 fathoms (6 ft. per fathom) and the average depth we have so far encountered has been closer to 2 fathoms. Depths will remain minimal - until we make another "crossing" over the deep open waters that separate groups of islands and cays.

On our first day "out", we arrived, with relief, at the anchorage at Great Sale Cay at about 5 p.m. Our anchor dug in without problem. We are now in new anchoring territory meaning that the bottom here is much different than we have encountered before and the frequent high winds and their changing directions call for extra vigilance. A dragging anchor is more a threat than in it was when we were anchoring along the ICW. Indeed, the Mursells were to have a scary nighttime dragging experience at our next anchorage - Manjack Cay.

We stayed 2 nights at Manjack and what an idyllic place it was. There we paused to admire the sparkling absolutely clear waters and white sandy beaches on each side of the cay. The night we went over to Somewhere In Time for a pot luck dinner, the water was so clear that our dinghies looked as though they were suspended in air and during the day when we all went from our anchored boats in to the little island and walked along a nature trail to the beach on the other side, the view was awesome. The colours of the water were so bright - even brilliant - like the best "technicolor" movie with the water shaded from dark blue to shades of aqua-marine and turquoise. We will have to learn to read these colours as, here in the Bahamas, they are an indication of depth with the darkest blue waters indicating the greatest depth and brown patches warning of rock patches or coral heads.

The morning after we arrived at Manjack Cay, Bob hoisted me up the mast to reattach the burgee halyard
(i.e. the line to haul up the club flag, also used to raise the radar reflector on foggy days)

We left Manjack Cay to get to a protected harbour as 2 cold fronts were coming through, one following the other, and we wanted to be securely tied up at a dock. So, after a long and bouncy ride with lots of sailing, here we are at Green Turtle Cay.

It's Wednesday, we arrived last Sunday and we will likely not set out again until this Friday or Saturday. There are 2 considerations. First, we need to wait for the high winds to calm and secondly, we must be sure that a short stretch of water open to the Atlantic, ominously called The Whale, is in good shape for passing through. This 2 mile long stretch of water, even when winds are calm, can be subject to "rages" making it impassible. We can determine the state of The Whale by listening to the local Cruiser's Net broadcast over VHF channel 68, each morning. For some reason, on Sea Change, we can't get much on this channel, so we have been relying on the Mursells for local weather reporting.

About Green Turtle Cay - we're staying at the Bluff House Marina - and guess what - it's kind of like being at another resort. It has it's own very nice bar and dining room overlooking the water, a pool (too cold for swimming right now) and a small but lovely sandy beach on the other side of this point of land. It's spooky though - there's almost no one here. At the top of the hill, the Bluff house hotel/lodge sits - with no guests. This month, the marina has a special - "eat your dock fees" - meals at the cafe/bar are deducted from fees for staying here. Not bad, especially since fees here are moderate - at least before you add the daily cost for electricity and water use (the water use is recorded on a meter).

Yesterday afternoon, Bob, Mary and I walked around to another spot on the bay where the Green Turtle Club sits. What a pretty facility - they have docks, mooring balls, a huge lovely dining room, a comfortable lounge and attractive bar - a well stocked gift shop and several staff members wandering around. There appears to be no guests - just staff. January is a slow month - but more than that, the economic downturn is keeping people away. Tonight, we plan to take our dinghies across and have a drink at the bar.

Day before yesterday, we took the Green Turtle "ferry" (smallish power boat) into the little town of New Plymouth - a charming place - and bought a few groceries at a couple of the tiny grocery stores. At Sids' Groceries we bought our first locally baked bread - in this case, coconut bread (mm-good). There are a few cars and trucks on the island but the major form of transportation is by golf cart - perfect for the narrow little streets of the town and the short distances around the island. The homes near here have car port like parking pads for their golf carts. Some carts have big, all terrain wheels, presumably for dealing with the dirt roads and possibly muddy conditions after rain.

Next stop for us is Marsh Harbor. Along with the Mursells, we want to get south as soon as possible - out of the cold north (well, everything is relative) - and into the Exhumas, where we can begin to breath easy, knowing that we will get to Staniel Cay (along the chain of Exhumas islands) in good time before Sean, Michelle and Krista fly in to meet us at the end of February.

The Woolseys will remain in the Abacos until their company flies home on February 2nd and then they will begin to move south also. To get to the Exhumas, we will be moving south from the Abocas Islands where we are now, and will make a 50 mile crossing over the deep blue water of the ocean to the Eleuthra chain of islands and then eventually, we'll sail to the Exhumas. It's not so far, but then again, while waiting for the good conditions for each crossing, it can seem very far indeed.