FLUKE 2010 Bahamas Map and Statistics

I collected some data from my log book and created a table with some numbers for our Bahamas trip on FLUKE in 2010.

(The map showing where we went is below.)

One big change from previous trips was the amount of generator running time due to the effectiveness of the solar panels. We ran the generator for 61 hours over 55 days. We used to average over three hours per day which would have been at least 165 hours. This saved well over 100 gallons of diesel fuel.

Bahamas Statistics

Dates	Jun 04 to Jul 28
Days	55 (all at anchor)
Engine Hours	102.7
Gallons Fuel	300.6
Nautical Miles	604 (694 Statute Miles)
Nautical MPG	2.01 (2.31 MPG)

Post a Comment (see link near bottom of post) to let us know if there are any other numbers you would like to see.

Bahamas Map 2010

Here is the map showing all the places we anchored on the 2010 Bahamas (Abacos) adventure.

You can click on any of the placemarks to see when we were there and other notes. Also, if you click on the link below the map you will get it in a normal google map window where you can easily zoom and pan, etc. This will let you see some of the amazing water colors that show up even from the satellites. (I added the red line to show the order we went, but we didn't really drive over land!)


View FLUKE Bahamas Voyage 2010 in a larger map

Homeward Bound: Mangrove Cay and the Atlantic Ocean

July 27 – 28, 2010

Our Last Sunset

We arrived at Mangrove Cay in time to have dinner, get a few things in order for the crossing, and try to get to sleep early since we planned to get up at 0300 to make the crossing in hopes of getting back to Vero before sunset.

The water was glassy calm since there was absolutely no wind. That's how I managed to get a decent picture of the sunset. Most of the time the boat is moving enough to make the sunsets or sunrises too blurry. Everything is always a trade-off though; it was so stinking hot and still, I got up at midnight and went outside on the upper bridge deck to sleep where the air was cooler and moving more than the fan blowing on me in the bed.

The conditions were stellar for crossing: glassy seas, no wind, no thunderstorms, and beautiful skies. The only thing that would have been better would have been if we had been abable to catch a dolphin, but I can't complain as King Neptune was very generous towards us in our spearfishing adventures. We did catch and release two tunny tuna, and that provided some diversion.

Never Better Than This

Our trip was rewarded with one more wonderful event, especially appropriate for us bird lovers. When we were 10 miles off the Florida coastline, a colorful palm warbler circled FLUKE a couple of times and then landed. At first it would just sit in the shade outside the pilothouse. The next thing we knew it came inside and literally snooped around for 20 minutes. This little bird showed no fear and made itself quite at home, hopping on the doors, cabinets, table, helm, and floor. It would look in all the corners and louvered door panels , like birds hunt and peck for insects. It even kept landing on the fan and pecking at the junk stuck on the grill. At one point it landed on the laptop's keyboard and just looked up at me with an expression of “well, do you have a problem with this?”. It proceeded to land on my head and then jumped over and landed on Eddie's head (it was too slippery though because of lack of hair). The big moment came when it landed on the door sill, right next to where Visitor (the very fat, great hunter cat) was sound asleep. I was dreading a bad ending to this magic moment, but the little warbler was not to be outdone and had one more trick tucked under its wing before saying goodbye. It jumped from the door sill to right on top of Visitor's fat gut. Visitor awoke in a panic and tried to take a swipe at the warbler, but the little bird was on the ball, flying quickly upward over the cap rail and out to sea. This is truly a worthy entry for my National Geographic moments diary.

Feathered Stowaway

The long day had gone so quickly, and it was time to head into the Ft. Piece inlet. Despite being a Wednesday afternoon, it was like Grand Central Station because it was the opening day of mini lobster season. Anyone who could find a boat that could float was out. We'd never seen so many law enforcement personnel on the water in the same area, and many boats were being pulled over to check for violators.

Inlet Rush Hour

The two hour ride up the Indian River to our home port was easy and uneventful. It felt good to see the familiar sights of our beautiful community.

Always A Welcomed Sight

Readers:

Much thanks to those of you who have posted comments. We've tried to take some of your suggestions to heart and make appropriate changes to the blog.

I know that it may sound like I'm a real sea witch at times when I make somewhat nasty comments about my male crew members. However, I am truly grateful for all they contribute to keeping us comfortable and safe and wouldn't consider finding other crew mates, even if they could guarantee they weren't of sea stooge caliber. Plus, I think it's important to report the good things and bad things and all the stupid stuff we do, so that you get an accurate picture of what this cruising life is all about. We are humbled by our mistakes, and try to look at them as reminders that we can't get too complacent in thinking we know everything. If we did, life wouldn't be as exciting!

I am going to try to do another post or two in the coming months, with appropriate photos, so that you can see what's happening to our big fat lady for the rest of hurricane season. Plus, when we finally make some solid plans, I'll let you know where we'll be pointing her bow for our next high seas adventure.

Double Breasted Cays: Sandy CayGrand Cay: Wells Bay

July 24 – 26, 2010

Sandy Cay Anchorage

You will see that I've listed two places for the header this time. You should read on to find out why I did that, having never done so before. I wish it only listed the first one as it is one of the most beautiful places in the Abacos. I imagine the title also got the attention of most of the guys reading this!

This is another one of those places with a crazy name. I guess it's because the cays are formed be two parallel sets of narrow rocky outcroppings, each about a mile long. Currents run through and between them, creating pockets of deep water, good for anchoring if you don't mind being crowded in by the rocks. If you anchor in this area, you tell people you are in the cleavage. Sandy Cay kind of sits between them, on one end, and has more room around it. Getting in is tricky, as you have to avoid reefs and shallow bars. You have to have faith and confidence in your ground tackle, and there is no quick exit if you get in trouble and think you want to move.

When everyone decided the weather had improved enough for us to haul up the anchor from Great Sale, Wayne consulted with Bruce about the feasibility of us taking FLUKE into the Double Breasted Cays. Bruce and Carol had stayed there many times and knew the waters well. Plus, we knew there were only 2 boats at the anchorage, so we figured we would have plenty of room for our big white whale. We have always avoided this anchorage in the past because of limited room with lots of rocks and strong, reversing currents.

A consensus was reached that our best bet would be to anchor near the wider opened Sandy Cay, going in on a slack tide when the current's push would be minimized, approaching with plenty of overhead light. EAGLE would go in first, get anchored, and then guide us in the deepest water by us following their dinghy.

We managed to put down our bow anchor with ease and decided to put out a stern anchor (our 55 lb. Fortress) to hold us in place, away from some nearby rocks. Everything looked good from above, and Eddie jumped in to see that all was well at the sea bottom too. I snapped the shot seen above; all was calm and peaceful. Wow! We had finally managed to get into this anchorage, a real feat for the FLUKE crew. Ha, Ha on us.

Since we thought all was well, and it was only mid afternoon, we piled into the dinghy and took off to explore some isolated coral heads a mile or so offshore for spearfishing opportunities. Bruce and Carol showed up in their dinghy, and we decided to venture further out to sea.

While in transit, the throttle cable on EAGLE's dinghy broke, and we had to tow them back to their mother ship. By that time, it was 5:00 p.m., just past mid tide. It was too late to go back to the offshore reef, so we headed back to FLUKE, about a mile away.

Boy, did we ever have a bad homecoming! The current was ripping by FLUKE, and it was clear our stern anchor had dragged from where we had set it. Eddie dove in to verify that it had and said that the anchor flukes were barely in the sea bottom. We were way too close to some nearby rocks, and we knew we needed to get the engine started and move farther away before the stern anchor gave way altogether. The three sea stooges were set into action.

We had to use the thruster and engine to move the bow toward the bow anchor, all against the ripping current, while letting out on the stern anchor. The current was hitting us broadside, so it was difficult to get the boat to move against it with both anchors in place. Eddie was supposed to be easing out on the stern line, which was taught as a piano wire. The line made a big jump and burned his hand. When we thought we had enough control with the bow anchor, we made the decision to tie a float on the stern anchor line and release it from the boat altogether and go retrieve it with the dinghy. The line shot out like it was released from a canon!

Wayne got in the dinghy and retrieved the 300' of anchor line and hauled up the Fortress anchor which was not easy! There was not to be a second attempt at anchoring here; we needed to get out before the light got even worse. We knew we could back track using the GPS track we had recorded on the way in, but we still needed to be able to see once we got on another route, and the setting sun was going to be in our eyes.

Fortress Flukes

Our saving grace was that we decided to travel the short distance over to Wells Bay, where we had gone several times before and knew the way in and a good place to anchor. It was 7:30 p.m. by the time we were settled again. Under ordinary circumstances we would never be traveling in those types of waters at that time of day. Is anyone keeping track of how many bone-headed situations we get ourselves into?!

We had two more days of great weather and some “interesting” adventures.

A couple on a sailboat came into the anchorage and came over to ask if we knew about diving sites in the area. They had never traveled in the Abacos before, and had come over from Ft. Lauderdale without any cruising guide. We loaned them the new guide we had just purchased before coming over and told them they could buy it from us if they decided it would be useful. Wisely, they dropped the money for the purchase off at the end of the day. I was amazed anyone would be traveling without a guide!

One morning we went spearfishing in a cut near a little cay with the current flowing strong. It was impossible to swim very much against the strong current, so we were drifting. I spotted a big hogfish in relatively deep water and shot it, but it came off my spear. I didn't want to loose the fish, so I had to swim hard to get to it and shoot it again and get it on my spear. When I was bringing it to the surface, I got cramps in both my calves, and I was already quite tired from the tough swim. I can swim with only one leg, but with both legs cramping, I began sinking. I couldn't stay up high enough to the surface to be able to breathe through my snorkel or say what was wrong. I sucked in sea water and was fading fast, but I wouldn't give up the fish. Eddie and Wayne saw me struggling, but didn't know what was wrong. Wayne kept yelling at me to hand him the fish in the dinghy; he was afraid to come near by with the prop spinning for fear it would hit me. Eddie swam over and grabbed me and the spear and pushed me towards the dinghy close enough for Wayne to grab the fish. When I was finally able to get in the dinghy I realized I wasn't wearing my weight belt. Eddie had ripped it off when he was trying to hold me up, and it had fallen to the bottom. We towed Eddie behind the dinghy where we thought it would most likely be and ended up finding it again. Here is the 10.5 lb. fish from our team effort. I decided to use this photo so you could see the interesting dorsal fins these hogfish have.

Almost the Last One

EAGLE showed up again because they wouldn't be able to get the part for their throttle cable for 2 weeks (it's always like that in the Bahamas!) and decided to go back to Florida. We had them over for dinner again and talked them into going out spearfishing in our dinghy since they hadn't had a chance to do any fishing in the area. We were able to get a couple of nice hogfish, but not without a lot of work, both searching and making a team effort to get them cornered and shot. I was by myself and shot a big fish, and it went under a coral head. I couldn't get it out alone and knew the time was limited before a shark showed up. Bruce and Carol were already in the dinghy because they had seen a shark in the area they were swimming, and I called them to get back in the water to help me get the fish. Bruce was able to get his spear in it, but when the three of us were right at the dinghy, the fish came off the spear and was flopping right in between us. That is NOT a good thing, with sharks in the area. We were all yelling at each other to hurry up and get out of the water and Wayne was trying hard to grab the fish. All the thrashing around just attracts the sharks even more. Bruce finally snagged it again with his spear, and we headed back with two nice fish. Bruce volunteered to clean both fish, and went one step farther by giving us half of each, already vacuum-packed!

We pulled up the anchor at 3:10 p.m. to travel the 25 miles to Mangrove Cay, our staging area on the Banks for crossing the Gulf Stream back to Florida.

Great Sale Cay: Northwest Harbor

July 24 – 26, 2010

Recycling Chores

No, we didn't return here because we think it's such a fantastic recreational destination. When tropical storm Bonnie was headed toward the Bahamas we needed to figure out the safest place for us to “ride it out”. The Gulf Stream crossing conditions were too rough for us to try to hightail it back to Florida. Plus, we weren't ready to return, and we thought Bonnie wouldn't be that bad since it was traveling so quickly and had only formed off of Puerto Rico and hadn't had time to build up into a big storm.

Great Sale afforded us wind and sea protection based on our best guess from where Bonnie would be coming towards us. Northwest Harbor is very large with good holding, so if other boats ended up there we thought we would have enough room. Our friends, Carol and Bruce on EAGLE left the Wells Bay anchorage with us and headed over to Great Sale too. So, we would be able to help each other if the need arose.

The need for help for anything never arose. As Bonnie was passing, we clocked winds of only 30 knots, much less than what we would have for a thunderstorm, and, to our chagrin, we didn't get any rain. The boats were covered with salt from the ride into the harbor, and we would have liked a nice rinse.

To alleviate the boredom of being “stuck in port”, we engage in a variety of activities, some of which includes routine maintenance. Eddie took time to catch up on his duties as Sanitation Engineer as evidenced in the opening photo.

On one of the narrow lee beaches, we did some beach combing. I collected a bunch of coral pieces that had been washed up on an old dune line, probably from a storm. I had to find any available container to pick up all the little piles I had cached as I worked my way down the beach when it was time to head back to the dinghy. Someday I will do something artistic with them, or so I hope.

Coral Cache

We had Bruce and Carol over for dinner one night, and that was a fun way to pass more of the time. They have been cruising for a lot of years and are avid fishermen, so they are a wealth of information.

It was always too windy to go into the water. Plus, the bottom of the harbor is a very muddy sand, and there is no good visibility. However, I did manage to get one prized fish specimen before we hauled up the anchor to move on.

Catch of the Day

Grand Cay: Wells Bay

July 16 – 20, 2010

Sooty Terns

This is where we have ended up the last two years because it is as far west as we can be before we have to make the commitment to head back to Florida, and it is a good location for us to access the offshore reefs located near enough for us to get to with the dinghy. Most cruisers who come here only do so so that they can go fishing or diving. The anchorage has fair holding if winds are in the range of E to SW. Outside of those directions, it is too open to be as safe and comfortable as we would like.

If the winds are too high to get offshore, we can do a little spearfishing, at slack tide only, around Burying Piece Rocks (don't ask me how anyone came up with the names of the places we stop or how they end up spelling them, which often times, is more than one way for the same place!). BP Rocks border the anchorage, so are easy for us to get to and from without using a lot of gas or spending time traveling.

We had some fun catching some hog fish and grouper and just looking at some of the other life that congregated to the rocky area. One time I looked over and saw a small nurse shark rising up from the bottom and heading right toward Eddie. I knew he didn't see it and it wasn't acting aggressively, so I decided to see what was going to happen without getting Eddie's attention. The shark went right up to him and gave him a sniff and then spun around and took off, like Eddie's odor wasn't to its liking! Some time later, a remora came off a big nurse shark and decided we looked like a better “ride”, so it kept coming up to both of us, trying to hook on. Remora have approached us before, and if I stick out my flipper, they seem happy to rest on it before taking off and going back to where they belong.

My best underwater adventure at this anchorage was when we were snorkeling in one of the cuts and two, 60 lb. tarpon were swimming nearby and stayed in the area for quite a while. I have never seen tarpon in the Bahamas before, so it was a neat, unexpected surprise. Tarpon are such a majestic looking fish, having huge heads, large eyes, and upturned mouths. Their bright, shiny silver scales are the size of silver dollars. The sunlight sparkles off the scales, almost making them look like stainless steel torpedoes underwater. I had a hard time falling asleep that night thinking about swimming with those “silver kings”.

Wells Bay has a very nice beach for walking or wallowing in the water. One morning, we took Ursa ashore to burn off some of her energy and walked to the far end. I noticed a path leading into the underbrush and decided to see where it led. I walked about ¾ mile and came to an open area where a group of people (adults and children) were working on clearing more of the underbrush. They were a group of locals who were clearing land for a ministry they were trying to establish. The land is accessible only by boat, so they had to be dropped off with all the tools, food, etc. they needed for their work day. They had done all the clearing work using chain saws, machetes, shovels, and wheelbarrows-this was a laborious chore to say the least. They had cleared the path I had walked on, an area for a building foundation to be erected, an area for a garden they had planted, and an area to offload all their supplies from the inland tidal creek they used to get to the site from the mainland. I was impressed with their efforts. I had arrived in time to watch one of the men feeding some large snappers stinky conch scraps on the incoming tide. I remarked that the group didn't have to worry about going hungry with all those fish around.

My stay in Wells Bay isn't complete unless I go out to Conchshell Cay and collect sea glass. This year I had an additional surprise, seeing that the western end of the cay had been taken over by a breeding colony of sooty terns, numbering over a thousand. In the U.S., breeding sooty terns are only found in the Dry Tortugas. When not nesting, they spend their time feeding in the open ocean unless they are blown toward the coast by storms. So, I welcomed the chance to get some pictures of the nesting activity. The opening photo shows several adults sitting on bay lavender.

Wayne dropped Eddie and I off at the cay because it is difficult to find a place to anchor the dinghy. The sea bottom is hard and rocky and there is no landing beach, so you have to anchor off and wade in, carefully finding your footing on the rocks. Wearing water shoes is mandatory because the rocks are full of urchins!

I told Eddie to minimize his movements so that we wouldn't disturb the colony any more than was necessary to get the photos. We had to walk a ways into the prickly brush, watching carefully where we put our feet so that we wouldn't step on any eggs. Eddie remarked that it looked like we weren't the first people to walk in, as it seemed the underbrush was beaten down in several spots.

Sooty Tern Egg

The females lay one, brownish-red speckled egg, kind of in a small depression in the underbrush, which surprised me. The other sea birds we have seen have nested out in the open. In fact, it was difficult for the adults to move through the underbrush to be able to take flight.

When I squatted down and peered through the lower, more open level of the brush, I could see chicks of varying ages and the adult birds trying to stay close to them. The chicks were very afraid and kept moving farther away, so it was difficult to be able to get close for a real good photo.

Sooty Tern Chick

When we completed the photographic session, we began looking for sea glass. I could hear the whirring of an approaching outboard motor. A small skiff containing three locals landed offshore around the point from where we were and waded in carrying white sacks. Our friends had told us that they had seen the natives collecting sea bird eggs in the past, so I figured, with dread, that's what they were going to do too.

I was pretty disturbed to think about being around for that activity, and the adult birds were going crazy, screeching and flying in all directions. Just up from where I was looking for glass, one of the men came barreling through the bushes, and to my distress, bent down and came back up with a chick squeezed in his hand and threw it in the sack. I thought about the irony of how careful Eddie and I had been and then to see these guys acting like elephants in a home vegetable garden. I have to keep telling myself that many of the locals have limited resources and have to live off the land as much as possible and, hopefully, they don't deplete the bird populations enough to affect the total population.

To get our minds off the idea of having to eat sooty tern eggs and chicks, Chef Wayne cooked up a delicious bistro-style meal of stromboli and pizza. Accompanied with some ice cold brewskis, we were in culinary heaven.

Chef Wayne's Gourmet Delights

Transition Cays

July 14 – 15, 2010

Safely Exploring With the Dinghy

I'm not going to be able to do a very good job conveying how really bad and scared we felt the two days after we left the Fish Cays, but I'll try to think of some adjectives as I write to give you an idea. The first thing that comes to mind is what I've told you before: Three Sea Stooges.

For those of you who are reading this that aren't cruisers, or just not familiar with the geographical layout of where we have been traveling with FLUKE, I'll give you a general overview of these out islands, so you will understand what we managed to get ourselves into.

Think of all the islands as just little strips of land. On one side (call it the outside) is the deep Atlantic Ocean, and on the inside is the shallow, mostly sandy, Bahama Banks. A treacherous, shallow barrier reef lays between the ocean and the islands. Cuts are trenches (deeper water) that flow through the barrier reef where strong currents bring the ingoing and outgoing tides from the ocean to the Banks. Nautical charts show ways of getting safely from one island to the next, from the ocean to the Banks using the cuts, and around the shallow Banks. Where you can take your boat really depends on how much water your boat needs under it to keep it floating or from hitting anything on the bottom, the worst being a big, hard, sharp coral head. So, the courses on the chart try to avoid those things that would do damage to your boat or get you stuck (like the sailboat W & E helped). Most of the time, we travel either outside the barrier reef, in the deep ocean, or on the Banks in chartered waters where it is deep enough for FLUKE's 5.5 ft. draft.

Since the pending wind changes had forced us to get out of the Fish Cays, Captain Wayne decided that we would go to the Carter Cays, a place we hadn't visited before for several reasons, the biggest one being that in order to get into the anchorage the “normal” way you have to transit a rocky bar on high tide. Then, you have to anchor in a cut between two small cays which have strong currents. Captain Wayne read in one of our cruising guides that there was a “back” entrance into the anchorage. When I looked on the chart I could see what he was talking about, but that entrance was protected by a huge sand bar, the kind I've described before that is only listed as “shifting” on the charts. That means, there's no guarantee that an easy to navigate channel will be there. However, I agreed with Wayne that even if we couldn't find the back entrance channel, we could anchor off the end of the bar and be okay with the predicted winds.

So, we had the destination in mind, but the next hurdle was really getting to that back entrance from our anchorage in the Fish Cays. The only way to do that was to travel in the area between the barrier reef and the cays. There is no charted course, and you have to proceed with caution, using what is called a visual piloting rule (VPR). VPRs frequently appear on charts in areas that are questionable for transiting because there are shifting sands, coral heads, rocks, or other obstructions. A captain of sane mind only transits those areas with good light, moderate winds, and favorable (mostly rising or slack) tides. We knew we would have to be going between and over coral heads, so we wanted to be on a high tide.

When we got up the morning we were going to leave, we decided we had time to go out to the reef one more time before the tide got high enough for us to leave. Fishing was good, and we caught several, but we stayed a bit longer than we should have (it's always the same chant: let's go down one more time!). Eddie said he would clean the fish underway, so we hauled up the anchor and began the journey.

We had good light, but Wayne still had to get up on the pilothouse roof to clearly see the coral heads and tell me where to steer FLUKE, while I watched the depth gauge making sure there was enough water to go where he was telling me to go. The depth alarm went off so frequently, indicating we had less than 2' under the keel, and many times I could see the digital readout indicate less than 1'. Thank goodness winds were mild, so that we weren't getting bounced up and down.

Eddie was in the cockpit cleaning the fish and could look over the side and see the treacherous, yellow coral heads looming up to the surface as we slowly glided by. He thought for sure that we were going to break off one of our stabilizers since they stick out to the sides of the boat, and it looked like to him that we were just easing through coral canyons where there wasn't much more room than the width of the boat. I lost track of how many times I eased FLUKE down to idle just waiting to hear a crunching sound when we hit something. It took us 3.75 hours to go 15 miles, but it felt like we had been underway for 8 hours.

When we got to the back entrance, light and tide had faded, and there was no way we could try to find the “channel” and get into the anchorage. We felt we had pressed our luck to the max, and didn't want to tap King Neptune's gratitude any more than he had already extended it. So, we decided to drop the hook outside the bar. Space between the coral heads was rather limited for our swing room, but we made do. When Eddie hopped in the water to check the anchor, there was a small coral head right off our stern that had 5 lobsters and a couple of small grouper peering out.

Bahamian Fishing Fleet

There was still enough light left to do some exploring with the dinghy. In particular, we needed to see if we would be able to get into the anchorage the following day when the tide was favorable. Fat chance!

We had heard that in recent years Carters Cays had become the home port for native fishing vessels. No one lives there, but fishermen from nearby cays had taken to using the safety of the anchorage and its close proximity to the offshore reefs and inshore banks as a place to keep their boats. So, we weren't surprised when we saw all the moored boats you can see in the photo. Even if we had taken FLUKE inside there wouldn't have been enough room for us to feel comfortable and secure in the area not occupied by the native boats. They had the best spots for holding and avoiding the worst of the currents.

One boat was being tended to by a family with several children. They all waved at us as we dinghied by and were laughing and pointing when they saw Ursa straddling one of the pontoon tubes. We continued on through the anchorage to check out the tricky “front” entrance, which was not to our liking either. We had originally thought that if we managed to get in the back door, we would head back to the safety of the Banks using the chartered course out the front door. Nix that idea after our dinghy recon mission!

We continued on with the dinghy to check out the other nearby cays. We could see the remnants of an old missile tracking station, one of many (we've seen others in various parts of the Bahamas) left over from the early days of space exploration. The tiny keyhole of Hogstye Harbor contained a sportfish boat (BACKLASH) safely tucked in behind a rocky strip of land with a tiny entrance hole wide enough for the boat to go through only on high tide. We stopped in and said hi to him. Going over to Jacks Cay we found a nice beach to land the dinghy and go for a picturesque walk on the idyllic little cay surrounded by calm, colorful, shallow waters. I just kept wanting to walk around the next point, losing track of how far I was from the dinghy. I was happy to see Wayne come around the point behind me walking with the dinghy, and that's the photo at the beginning of the post. Native blooms provided fragrant, aromatherapathic scents helping drain away the tension of the day. The footprints (and paw prints!) we left behind were the only ones on this remote little beach.

Secret Beach

After surveying the entire area and getting an updated weather forecast anticipating higher winds, we knew we had to leave the following day and seek a safer anchorage. We had a feeling of being “trapped” in that we would never be able to move FLUKE at all during the night if a storm blew in and caused our anchor to start dragging. Plus, we would need good daylight to weave our way through the coral heads again to get us out of the area to deep water, and if it was too cloudy we would be stuck there until we could safely get underway.

Fortunately, the new morning came with some decent light and a rising tide, so we decided to get going while the going was good. BACKLASH was easing himself out of Hogstye Harbor, and we called him on the radio for advice about getting out of the area. He offered some helpful suggestions, saying the trip will have a lot of “pucker” factor to it, but if we kept our eyes open and picked our way through the heads, we would have enough water to get us to a navigable channel that would take us over to the safety of the Banks.

We were working with more water than we had the previous day, and the coral head formations were much larger, rather than small and numerous, and had enough space between them for us to weave through the 10 miles we needed to go. We would have thought it was a difficult transit if we hadn't been so “challenged” the previous day. So, as it was, we had a less stressful voyage and breathed a big sigh of relief to get back to more familiar, safer waters.

We dropped the hook at Great Sale Cay on the northwest side. Great Sale is a frequent stopping anchorage for boats coming over from Florida where cruisers can rest for a day before moving on into the rest of the Bahamas. The flat, mostly mangrove, cay is uninhabited and doesn't have any outstanding land or water attractions to keep people anchored for any length of time. However, because of its shape (like a giant wishbone) it affords protection from windy weather in many directions with good holding and room for lots of boats.

There are a few areas of sandy beach, depending on what side you anchor. We explored the shoreline, which I nicknamed Pig Poop Beach because it was loaded with the most pig poop I have ever seen outside of attending a state fair. Native Bahamians drop hogs off on uninhabited cays to “get fat” until they are ready to be eaten. They are free to roam, root, and ravage the native wildlife, flora and fauna, without anyone having to worry about caring for them or cleaning up after them. We reported they did the same thing with goats and sheep when we were in the Jumentos.

Catching the Fishing Fever

Fish Cays: North side off of Lower Cay
July 10 - 12, 2010

30 Minute Limit!

With light winds out of the west, we were able to drop the hook here, a place we hadn't anchored before because the winds are seldom favorable. We knew it would give us good access to the nearby, offshore reefs, even better than those off of Allans-Pensacola. No other boats ever dropped their hooks while we were anchored here. It was so quiet and peaceful, and the moonless nights sure were dark with no other boat lights around. It is too remote for even the nearest local thieves to bother us! Although, I would probably welcome an appearance from my favorite pirate, Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl!

We went out to the reefs each morning, taking advantage of clearer skies at that time of day. Usually by the afternoon clouds would build up and block out the sun, reducing our visibility. One morning from the time we dove on the first reef and caught all the fish we are holding in the opening photo, only 30 minutes had passed. Eddie was rewarded with his biggest fish to date, a 6 lb. yellow fin grouper seen in the photo. Reef security (sharks!) had already shown up, so we decided to call it a day. It took has four times the amount of time to get ready, go out to the reef and back and then clean the fish, ourselves, and our gear than it did to catch the fish. I whined the rest of the day that we should have moved somewhere else and stayed out longer, just to look around if nothing else.

The following day, fish sightings were less, and plus, we agreed to try to focus our efforts on spearing larger fish. Wayne heard Eddie and I discussing that the two fish we were looking at 20' below were too small. But, then, I dove down, obviously going after something. Wayne had a BIG surprise when Eddie signaled to get close, and I popped to the surface with a
7.5 lb. Nassau grouper, my largest grouper catch!

While we had managed to find an area rich in fish possibilities, it didn't come easy. Every time we dove an area and shot a fish, sharks showed up. Our policy is to get out of the water and move on once the sharks show up. We know we are no match for their quickness and desire to want to get an easy meal by going after the fish on our spears or any that may have been wounded. Plus, with visibility not being the greatest, we know it's what we don't see quick enough that will get us.

We keep our fish in a 5 gallon bucket (except my hogfish which wouldn't fit in the bucket!) before they are cleaned. Thinking she is really the pack leader whose job it is to protect the kill, Ursa will guard the bucket and snarl at us when we reach to take the fish out of the bucket to clean them. Ursa and Visitor both mill around when Eddie is cleaning the fish so they will get handouts, and Uncle Eddie can be way too generous with the scraps.

Everyone is Smiling!

Our refrigerator starting acting up again, and the W & E Refrigeration Co. were forced into using the coolant and peripheral supplies they had picked up in Marsh Harbor for an out island “fix”. Our refer specs say that the line pressure should be between 7-8 p.s.i., but the only gauge they had managed to find had a scale that went up to 200, graduated in tens. So, reading any small number is just a best guess. At least the fittings are compatible for getting the gas in, and Donnie had given us some tips on what to look for after adding the coolant. Apparently the line frosts over to a certain point, and the amount of frost, or lack of it, functions as an indication of how much gas is in the line. Too much gas can be just as bad as not enough gas. We are just going to have to wing it.

Besides, adding to our frustrations, the weather forecast indicates a wind change that will force us to have to move to another location for better protection. We would have liked to have remained in these productive Fish Cays a while longer.

So, The Real Hunt Begins

Allans-Pensacola Cay
July 4 – 9, 2010

Island Summer School

After we pulled up the anchor from our Green Turtle Cay anchorage, we moved northwest to one of our favorite spots, Allans-Pensacola Cay. APC is really another world compared to parts south, and it is the real reason we come to the Bahamas. We would have been here sooner if we hadn't had the problems with the refrigerator. While we always see other boats here, most cruisers only stay a couple of nights and then move on to populated areas. There are no goods or services available close by, so you have to come here prepared to be on your own for the most part. Here, we can jump off the boat and not have to worry about getting run over by a day boater rushing to the next bar or party site.

We did have some “activity” in the anchorage for the 4th of July celebration. A boat with 7 people in their 20s dropped anchor. At night they went to the beach and shot off colorful fireworks that were really nice to watch in the pitch black night with the beach, island trees, and water silhouetted in the glowing sparkles. Unfortunately, they left behind all the fireworks garbage right on the beach, to be washed into the sea with the high tide, so I made an early run to the beach and picked everything up. I think if I ever have a break down and go crazy on the high seas I will shoot people who leave garbage behind with my spear!

The water off the sandy beaches in this area is so clear, as you can see in the opening photo of the school of puffer fish I saw on one of my beach walks. As much as I enjoy snorkeling the exciting offshore reefs, I still delight in walking through the calm shallows and hunting for other marine life. There is always something to see in the water, washed up on the beach, or in the underbrush.

Sticky Nickers

I thought it would be interesting to show what the Nicker Bean pods look like since a lot of people find the pretty oval, smooth, blue-gray seeds (they go in that class called sea beans) on tropical shores worldwide and never see the plant they come from. As smooth and benign as are the beans, everything about the plant is just the opposite. Not only are the pods full of prickly spines, but so are the stems. You can't even think about walking through a nicker bean bush, so it has been used as a barrier for people and livestock. I have been scratched and had my clothes torn many times.

Our favorite reason for stopping here is to be able to more easily access the offshore reefs when the weather is calm enough for us to take the dinghy a couple of miles out. Since this area is remote, with no real settlements like those to the south that harbor permanent residents and large numbers of tourists, there is still a lot of marine life and edible fish to be found. We were finally able to find vibrant coral heads with lots of “game” fish and other abundant species of fish. Even if we aren't able to catch anything, it is fun searching and watching all the underwater activity. On days we get skunked and come back empty-handed, we placate ourselves with comfort food like Klondike bars!

Eddie and I are very competitive when it comes to spearfishing, but we are always cheering each other on when going after a good fish. I still can't believe I was lucky enough to find this 12.5 lb. prized hogfish, spear it, and be able to get it to the surface for Wayne to pick up. It is by far the biggest fish we have speared and a real dream come true, no matter who caught it. To give you some perspective, we are usually happy to be able to get them in the 3 lb. range, and if we get a 5 lb. one, we are elated.

Hugging a Hog

Eddie says I should explain why we spear hogfish. First, we like to be able to get them because they are delicious to eat, and we are hoping that eating more fish will make us smarter. Their meat is so white and firm, freezes well and can be cooked a number of ways. That makes it worthwhile to spend the time to try to hunt them. Secondly, if found, they are easier to spear than other fish. Their broad bodies make a better target. However, hogfish rely on the art of camouflage to get away from their natural predators. They can change colors right before your eyes to blend in with their background, instead of going into a hole or under a ledge like other fish, and then they think they are safe. So, they remain very still thinking the predator won't notice them. Well, humans aren't their natural predator, so that “trick” doesn't work as well on us. If we can sneak up close enough to them without startling them, we can get a shot off. It isn't really as easy as it sounds because we are trying to do this all on one breath, knowing that we have to have enough air left to get back up to the surface with a heavy fish on the end of the spear. Plus, we are using pole spears which rely on being propelled by a big rubber loop, which is very difficult for me to stretch to the limit to get enough force to get the spear points through a fish using only one arm. The tighter you can stretch the rubber, the more power you will have in the spear. Some mornings my knuckles are sore from having gripped my spear so tightly. Plus, I think we are both developing a case of spear elbow, a distant relative of tennis elbow!

Now don't think we just lay idle in between our fishing forays swatting horseflies (there are many in this place and their bite is painful!). The W & E Marine Rescue Team saved a sailboat from a potentially unpleasant grounding. A sailboat that we had seen several times down “south” was also in our anchorage and left one morning. We noticed that it had gone a ways and then stopped. Before long, the captain had a halyard line strung from his mast and was trying to heel the boat over with his little dinghy. We knew he was aground, and it was only an hour past high tide, which meant he wouldn't have enough water to refloat his boat for 11 hours if he didn't get it off ASAP. I called the boat on the VHF and asked if they needed our help since we had a bigger, more powerful dinghy. W & E went to the scene and were able to work from the water while the captain used his engine to get the sailboat off the hump he had run up on.

We couldn't really blame the captain for ineptitude because he gave us the lat/long of the spot where he went aground, and it was right on the course line on our chart; it could have just as well happened to us. However, the area is charted as having shifting sand bores. Those are bar areas associated with cuts between islands where the water rushes through, depositing sand and creating humps. The charted courses try to give enough leeway to avoid the bars, but they can change with varying weather conditions and tides, such that all captains should take careful notice to give them adequate clearance. It was even a lesson learned for the FLUKE crew. When in doubt, transiting the questionable area on a rising tide is in order or you may suffer the potential consequences.

All Partied Out

Cocoa Bay Anchorage, Green Turtle Cay
July 2-3, 2010

Festive Thanks

We had the anchor up by 0730 so that we could travel the 16 miles northward to Green Turtle Cay and get anchored again in time for the Stranded Naked Party which was scheduled to start at 1100. Our transit through the Whale Cay Passage went smoothly, and I radioed in the passage conditions to the Cruisers Net, broadcast each morning, so that the other cruisers would be appraised of passage conditions.

We dropped the hook in Cocoa Bay, at the northern end of Green Turtle Cay. We hadn't anchored here before, but thought it would give us a good position to be able to take the dinghy to both Fiddle Cay and Green Turtle Cay and be less crowded than the GTC anchorage. With the chance of thunderstorms looming, we would rather be by ourselves than in a crowd. I have more confidence in our ability to hold anchor than I do with that of other boaters. Holding was good, but we were subject to some wicked wakes and close passes from the many go fast boats that were headed to and from Party Central.

Stranded Naked is the kick off party for what is known as Regatta Time in Abaco; this is the 35th year. Over the course of 10 days there are sailing races for cruisers and parties at different island stops beginning with the first race held at Green Turtle Cay and ending down in the southern part of the island chain in the Marsh Harbor area.

We floated into the Fiddle Cay anchorage by 1130, and things were in full swing. We had to find a place to secure the dinghy on the falling tide so that we wouldn't be left high and dry when we wanted to leave the cay after the tide had fallen. That meant that we had to put out a bow and stern anchor in a deeper section of water, but out of the way of the bigger boats which were rafting up in a semicircle at the perimeter of the big sandbar that makes Fiddle Cay such an appealing spot.

Waiting in Line Can Be Fun

The drink and food lines were already very long and the music was cranked up. The drink line goes quickly because there are many servers, but the food line creeps along. At least you can stay cool by standing in the water, and there is always someone willing to talk to you.

You can see by the photos that most of the “guests” are of American origins, as are the people who host the Stranded Naked party. We were hoping to see our friends, Kathy and Dave, who usually come over at this time, but we hadn't heard if they were going to be in the Abacos this year. So, we were pleasantly surprised to see them waiting in the food line too!

While we did take Ursa, I didn't have her wearing her sunglasses. At least 6 people came up and asked if she was the dog that wears the glasses. Her photo, from previous appearances, is featured on the Stranded Naked website.

The standard food fare includes cheeseburgers, hot dogs, and fries. Rum punch and margaritas are the alcoholic beverage choice, and fruit punch is available for kids and people like Eddie and I who had had enough rum punch at our Guana Cay outing the previous evening to preclude the desire for another alcoholic drink within the same 24 hour period. Since all of this is free, it is easy to be able to want to spend some money on their cleverly designed, and always colorful, tee shirts. This year's has the slogan “eat cheeseburgers, not turtles” because the Bahamas finally passed legislation to protect sea turtles.

Stranded Naked Memento

Many people attend several of the parties over the week and half period. I imagine some people attend them all, but the most the FLUKE crew can handle is to get to the Green Turtle Regatta Party the evening following the Stranded Naked Party. Thus, we dinghied over to the New Plymouth public dock and were happy to see Dave and Kathy standing there, having just landed their dinghy too.

Finding $16 in the street helped buoy my party spirit in addition to the free rum punch. If party goers got tired of rum, they could have free beer or coconut gin drinks. Food booths are operated by local community groups whereby the proceeds are used to fund their special projects. Live music is provided by a local group, and there is an area for people to dance. The regatta awards are presented on stage to the winners from all the different sailing classes.

Making the Colorful Conch Salad

Eddie had already gone through one vendor line and bought a fish dinner (fish, mac and cheese, peas and rice, cole slaw). I think the most popular foods are conch fritters and conch salad, but after I saw Eddie's dinner, I decided to get one too. Plus, the portions were generous enough that I thought Wayne and I could split one. However, by the time I made it through the line and to the servers, the fish had run out and more had to be put on the grill. It was quite a long wait, and when I finally did get served, the portions were all being cut back. The worst part was finding out the fish wasn't even close to being cooked in the middle. I took mine back to the grill and asked if it could go back on, and then proceeded to have a friendly conversation with an island grill master about fishing in the bay. To make up for the reduced fish dinner portions, I went to a dessert booth and bought two pieces of yummy lemon meringue pie.

The pie came in plastic containers with a close-able lid. When we were done with the pie, we let Ursa lick the container (we all have a sweet tooth on FLUKE!). The woman across the picnic table from us wanted to save part of her conch salad for her friends, so she saw we had the plastic containers and asked if she could have them. I said that Ursa had already licked them out, but she said she didn't care and her friends wouldn't know the difference. I gave them to her and she wiped them out with her dinner napkin and dumped in the leftover conch salad. I told her that all three of us are always sharing food with Ursa, and none of us have even had a cold this year. I'm sure her friends were delighted to get the conch salad, and “ignorance is bliss”.

The “official” ending of this party is concluded with a local junkanoo parade. It is amazing how loud and deeply reverberating those drums can sound and feel when the drummers pound on them in unison. Party goers fall in amongst the musicians and bump and grind their way up and down the street.

Getting the Beat

When we left the dock area and went out into the dark harbor, all the lighted boats looked so beautiful silhouetted against the pitch black night sky. We had to carefully find our way around a nearby bluff, motoring along so slowly, but kicking up a golden phosphorescent wake that lent a magical end to a fun evening. We could finally see FLUKE's solitary mast light in the distance. Even though she is such a big white whale, the moonless night was so dark, we wouldn't have easily found her if her anchor light didn't guide us home.

Great Guana Cay, As We Like It

Fishers Bay Anchorage
July 1, 2010

Island Welcome

In the last posting I described the Baker's Bay area of Great Guana. Now that we moved 2 miles south, I want to talk about this area associated with the original settlement, and it's what we like best. See that inviting, quaint dock in the opening photo? That is more typical of what we have always thought of as this part of the island.

In our opinion, overall, Great Guana Cay has seen more change than any of these small Bahamian out islands that we visit regularly. Even in the Settlement Harbor area (old time Guana), one of the newer marina developments has taken off to the point of putting in a second dock to accommodate the multitude of transient boaters (many with large vessels) that like to include Guana Cay as a stop in their travels. There are only 150 “real” residents on the island, yet there are many modern vacation homes, and the marina and bar businesses bring workers from the other islands. A freight and passenger ferry service connects Guana to Marsh Harbor, bringing goods and people to the island with ease. However, you can still get a good feeling for the “old” ways with a walk along the original waterfront area.

It's Better Than Nothing

You will walk by the Post Office building, or room I should say. Hours are short, but everyone knows them and just learns to “work” with that time schedule. The FLUKE crew thinks it's time for the dying U.S. Postal Service to cut back it “services” to save money, such as having residential mail delivery only 3 days/week.

Everyone Loves Ice Cream

Our afternoon walk was destined to include a stop at Pirates Cove, where we were going to get ice cream, every boaters delight. We are always tentative about taking Ursa inside any building, but when I saw a bowl on the floor behind the counter, under the hot dog machine, with macaroni and cheese in, and around, it I knew Ursa would be welcome. Then Mini, the minpin puppy, showed up to see what all the activity was about and to try to make friends with Ursa (a bad idea!).

Through the coconut telegraph (VHF radio) we'd been hearing Pirates Cove advertising that they had banana splits. One day they were $5, the next day $6, and by the time Eddie sidled up to the counter to order his (with no price sign in sight), they were $7, and not even close to the size Eddie had been lusting for. The chocolate chip ice cream Wayne and I ordered turned out to really be some kind of cookie dough. It was still a nice treat.

The ice cream parlor was transformed into the potluck buffet for our evening dining enjoyment. All the delicious food people brought was put out on tables inside, Pirates Cove supplied dinner ware, and after you filled your plate you took it outside to one of the tables, all within easy reach of the outdoor tiki bar. We shared a table with a couple we had met down at Lynyard Cay and enjoyed hearing about their Washington state backgrounds and how they recently became sailing cruisers. Since we had given them an old cruising guide when we were at Lynyard, they wanted to treat us to a few delicious, but toxic rum punches. Eddie and I jumped on that offer right away.

After the pot luck, we didn't want to leave Guana without having one of the famous, but also toxic Guana Grabbers. They are served Grabbers (formerly the Guana Beach Resort) which was conveniently located where the dinghy was docked so we didn't have to go out of our way to get to the sunset beach bar. The Grabber is a pureed ice rum punch drink that is so cool and refreshing it is easy to have too many. In our case, now one was too many. Years ago, in our younger days with our previous boat, we were drinking Grabbers to a rather late hour. Wayne and I got tired, but Eddie said the night was still young for him and he took us back to the boat and went back to the bar for more Grabbers. Well, I awoke to the sound of our dinghy motor approaching the boat, but it didn't stop. I thought that was odd since we were the farthest boat out from shore, and I knew Eddie couldn't be giving anyone a ride. The dinghy motor got a bit fainter, but then I could hear it getting louder again. At least Eddie eventually found his way back that night!

It's Always Bright at Nippers

Nippers bar and restaurant has really helped draw crowds to Great Guana for many years. Their colorful establishment sits high on a dune with views of the beautiful beach and near shore reefs. They have a freshwater pool, cute gift shop, and outdoor tiki bar. Their Sunday pig roast is known throughout the Abacos. There is really something there for everyone.

Nippers Scenic Beachfront

Bar Hog

The locals do a fine job keeping the public areas clean and orderly. This guy can cool off whenever he needs to and doesn't have to worry about tide changes with that tall ladder!

Getting the Job Done

All the establishments have catchy island tunes to draw your attention and try to get you to stop in. However, you can find solitude with a walk on the beach or a visit to the quaint, island cemetery, located on an upland site, well above any high waters from storm surges.

Party's Over

However, after a fun time on Great Guana, we still had one more thing to do before we got in our dinghy to head back to FLUKE who was anchored in the harbor.

Leave the Sand Behind

(We have returned home to Vero Beach and are busy getting FLUKE ready to haul out. We have several blog posts almost ready to go since we haven't been near civilization for quite a while.)