Not Really the Royal Treatment

May 16 – 20, 2012

We had watched many boats come up from the south and enter the Little Harbor cut over the two days we were anchored by Lynyard Cay and hadn't heard anyone complaining about sea conditions. So, with what appeared to be a good weather day to make the 60 mile open ocean crossing from Lynyard Cay south to our destination of Royal Island near Eleuthera, we hauled up the anchor after sunup on May 16. We planned to eat breakfast underway.

While the passage over the reef went smoothly, the waters east of the land mass area we left, weren't the greatest for our type of vessel.  Winds were forecast to be 10 -15 KTS with seas 2 – 4', but we started out with the high numbers of both categories.  We knew if we didn't cross today, conditions were forecast to get worse, and it would be several days before the next opportunity.  So, we decided to tough it out. 

Conditions were certainly not dangerous, just uncomfortable.  Visitor threw up within the first hour – I was surprised he lasted that long.  Eating was out of the question for any of us, since no one wanted to go down below anyway.  As luck would have it, the engine room bilge light came on, so Wayne had to go down to check it out.  The float switch had stuck, so once he fiddled with it, it worked properly for the rest of the time.  Since we were in the open ocean, we decided to pump out the holding tank, so Wayne stayed down below for that operation too. By the time he came back up, he wasn't feeling well at all.

Seas changed for the better once we got into an area with a lot of rain, but less wind than what we experienced in the clearer skies.  Fortunately, there was no lightning and no waterspouts.  I thought you might be interested to see what the radar image showed for the storm area we were in.  All the dark green spots are rain clouds – we are out in open ocean, so there are no land masses that show up on the screen (the boat is right in the center of the image).  It was a strange feeling to be traveling in the middle of the system and see some heavy downpour areas and very dark clouds all around us. However, we were relieved to get a break from the wind.

In the eye of the storm

Before we left the anchorage I had dressed for a big day of trolling, with high hopes of catching a dolphin.  We haven't caught ANY fish since we've been here, and our palates are clambering for some fresh fish.  Plus, the open ocean area we were traversing is a good fishing ground for some of the big game fish.  I was looking forward to some action.
However, since the seas were too wishy-washy I couldn't even put the lines out for most of the day.  If we did catch a fish, it would be too hard to bring it in with FLUKE rocking around so much.

Dressed for action

I'm sharing this rather unflattering photo with you and will reveal a personal secret.  It's only fair, since I rag out on the guys so much.  Because I have to keep covered up to reduce sun exposure, I wear a full set of long sleeved pants and overshirt.  I like the clothes to be loose-fitting, white, and lightweight to be as cool as possible, even though they make me look like the Pillsbury Dough Girl.  It is an exceptionally chic fashion addition if I happen to have a pair of colored underwear on that day too, and that gets the guys to make derogatory comments.  Because my clothes usually get salt, blood, and fish guts on them,  I want to wear fabrics that are easy to rinse out and will dry quickly.  I like to go to thrift shops and look for these kinds of clothes, so I don't feel guilty getting them torn or soiled like I would if I bought something new.  In this photo, however, I have stooped to a new level of thrift, I am wearing a pair of pants that my 88 year old mother gave me!!  I'm laughing as I write this because I can't believe I'm admitting to wearing them.  Say what you want, but “go girl, good for you” would be nice, especially because the guys think I look ridiculous and make fun of me and say it's a good thing the fish can't see me.  I am thankful there are no fishing fashion police.  None-the-less, I managed to catch one jack just as we were approaching our destination of Royal Island, and I threw it back.

Navigational chart overview

I decided to use this photo of the nav chart we are using so you could see what the Royal Island anchorage looks like.  The little island harbor is almost totally surrounded by land (the green area in the photo) so boaters can get good protection from most wind directions.  You only enter the harbor straight through the narrow opening between the rocks indicated by the purple dotted line.  The numbers within the blue area in the harbor indicate the depth of the water (in meters at mean low tide) and we like to see at least 2 meters (almost 7') since FLUKE draws almost 5.5', and we need a cushion of water underneath so we don't bounce off the bottom.  The text says that the holding varies, so you have to look around for what looks like a sandy area and hope that your anchor will bury in it to hold the boat in case the wind kicks up.  Since the harbor is very enclosed, waves aren't much of an issue.  The numbers in the green (land) part of the chart indicate the elevation, and you can see there are some nice little hills which really help block the wind.  The chart also indicates significant man-made features that are on the land, in this case, ruins and a jetty.  More about them later on.

It was a relief to get out of the wind, the anchor set and the engine turned off and just feel the quiet, even though the no-see-ums were out in bloodthirsty force.  By the time we started eating (we hadn't eaten all day), it was already 4:00 p.m.  No tick-tock, eat by the clock, day for the FLUKESTERS.  I decided we should all be rewarded for our crossing effort by eating a Fat Boy Jr.  I guess since we were exhausted from trying to keep our balance for hours and fighting off sea sickness the guys didn't complain about eating the Jrs this time.  We had the company of seven sailboats tucked in the harbor with us the first night.

Not the scenery you would expect

This is the view from where we are anchored – yucky, huh?  I know it is not the usual kind of island scenery I like to share.  The story behind it is not an uncommon one for many places we have seen over here, especially in recent years with the downturn in the economy. 

Back in the 1930s Royal Island was purchased by a man from Florida who built a grand plantation estate (the ruins on the nav chart) that was used and maintained for over 30 years. After he passed away and his relatives decided they didn't want to maintain the property, it went into disrepair, with nature, the elements, and vandals wrecking havoc on the remains.  In more recent history, a group of entrepreneurs decided that it would be a good place for an exclusive out island retreat, complete with a golf course, villas, and luxury marina.  Work got underway with some clearing, infrastructure, and a few villas built over the hill from the anchorage in a cove with a pretty, secluded beach.  Then the economy went sour, and no more work could proceed.  From our observations, it appears that the villa area I just mentioned is in operation.  There isn't a golf course; just a reminder that there was going to be one since the shuttle boats have the names of ROYAL TEE and GULF PRO.  Guests probably fly in to one of the airstrips on the north end of nearby Eleuthera and then are transported by boat to a protected dock area within the anchorage and then take a land shuttle over the hill to the small resort.  My first thought when I saw this dump within sight of our boat, and the resort dock, was what the guests must think when they show up to visit this high end resort for their “idyllic” island get away and see the same dump I see.  Not a good first impression to say the least.

So, you can imagine our surprise when around 10:00 our first morning, we got a call on the VHF from a voice saying they were Royal Island.  I acknowledged receiving the call and asked what they wanted.  The man said that a big construction barge was scheduled to arrive within an hour and FLUKE was in the way of accessing the area where the barge wanted to land so we needed to move.  We ended up moving to the area shown on the chart across from the 1930s ruins. 

Then we waited for the barge to show up.  We could hear it chugging along before we could see it since our view within the harbor was blocked from the hills on the south side of the anchorage.  We watched as the tug lined up to push the whole rig through the little opening into the harbor and then lined up perpendicular to shore to drop down the big front gangplank for off-loading the equipment.   For about 3 hours, the dump area was partially cleaned up and 3 big dumpsters were filled with debris.  The following is what the rig looked like upon departure.

Island waste

We spent the rest of the day catching up on boat chores.  It was too cloudy and overcast to go snorkeling anywhere, and the threat of rain kept us from going on any land tour.

The following day, May 18, with the weather forecast still not good for any in water activities we decided to up the anchor early in the morning and visit Spanish Wells, about an hour away.  We figured that we would pick up a mooring there and walk around town, even in the rain.  That  fun day is covered in the following blog.

We returned to Royal Island in the morning of the 19th.  It was early enough in the day for us to finally go ashore and tour the ruins of the original plantation.  There are the remnants of what was a big concrete pier with adjacent harbor side roadway.  We tied up to the pier area to easily get out of the dinghy. A long cascading steep stone staircase takes you right from the pier to the top of the hill where the buildings are located. The sturdy stone arched walls, terraces, and driveways are still intact and give you a feel for what the place looked like in its prime.  There are multiple buildings, like a main house and several guest buildings, a dining lodge and kitchen, free-standing bath, and boathouse, all built out of big blocks of heavy stone.  The floors are ceramic tile, colorful and pretty when they were new.  The whole property facing in the harbor was terraced to be used as planting areas, with many of the ornamental plants still growing, along with the native vegetation that has reclaimed the land.

Overgrown dreams

The view from the top gave the residents vistas of the sapphire blue Atlantic Ocean to the north (we could see a big Nassau bound cruise ship in the distance) and the aqua color of the shallow waters to the south of the harbor where we were anchored.  There was a road that ran all the way down to the north shore, where there was another pier ruin, built to provide protection for a small cove area, good for swimming.  We all walked down there to check out the rubble and look for “treasure”.

Treasure hunting

You can see that the shoreline is very rocky and not easy to walk on.  Since it was low tide, we were at least able to walk a short distance along the shore.  That rocky area is covered with the high tide, and there really isn't much of a place to walk without getting up in the bushes.  We found several nice pieces of driftwood, enough such that we all had something to carry back.  Even Captain Wayne willing slung one of the large pieces over his shoulder and headed up the hill.  Eddie and I carried the largest one (35#) between us and each had two other pieces in our other hands.  It was a good workout getting back up the hill and down all the stairs.  Eddie thinks the Bahamian Feds are going to pull us over for “stealing” driftwood when they see it strapped to the railings.  I told him to tell them we are collecting wood for a beach bonfire.

The sun FINALLY came out in the morning of the May 20th.  We decided to head out to the reef area on the NW side of the island and see if we could have any luck spearfishing.  While the visibility was good, we only saw a couple of “eligible” fish, and they had seen humans before and weren't letting us get too close.  Another fishless day for the FLUKESTERS.

No one had to light a fire under us to encourage us to continuing to move southward when the weather forecast looked good enough for us to make a move the following day.