West End, Grand Bahama

[Kyle]The sail from Chub Cay to Grand Bahama was the same routine as the previous – sail across the Bahama bank in daytime and then cross the deep water of the Northwest Providence Channel at night. The main differences were that the dark bit was longer, so we didn’t have to slow down, and there was a LOT of traffic. It seems that every ship closing on the U.S. East Coast takes the shortcut through the channel. It was way busier than I remember the Torres Strait or even the English Channel - at least when we were there. It was an all-night head-swiveler.

The weather was being weird. After arriving in West End, we were to have one day of strong winds from every direction in which the anchorage was not protected. Then we would have just enough of a weather window for the leg to the U.S. I was scratching my head trying to figure out the best way to deal with the situation when Maryanne found a note about Ginn Harbour, just to the east. Ginn Harbour was planned as a Chub Cay-style posh development, but they ran out of funds right between dredging the harbor and building the homes. What is left is a big, dredged canal system in the wilderness that is protected from all sides. The only down side to it is that getting ashore is difficult and when you do, there is not much to see in the way of touristy enticements. It’s a great place to stay aboard while hunkering down for a storm.

From our anchorage in the abandoned development - we could take the dinghy down a side channel for a short walk to the town

As this was to be our last stop in The Bahamas, we really wanted to go ashore. We decided we would do whatever it took to get there. We started with a long row up one of the canals and under a couple of bridges to a dead-end. There, we could scramble up the bank to a trail. Then a long trail led us to the corner of someone’s property, where we could sheepishly join the last stretch of their driveway to the main road.

As it was midday by then, we were the only people out walking in the blazing sun while the rest of the town relaxed under the cover of awnings or trees. We got a few curious looks, as we were not locals. We were too far from the resort at the end of the island to be wandering in on foot and we weren’t being followed by an attendant in a golf cart. Several people waved and asked if we were alright. “Yeah, yeah,” we’d say, “We’re just on our way to the store.”

After a while, two guys drinking under a homemade awning waved us over. They introduced themselves as Magic and Ashton and offered us one of what they were having. Well, alright.

Magic is a fisherman in his fifties. Ashton, his twenty-nine-year-old nephew, has one of those instantly likeable faces that just makes you want to smile with him. We ended up spending a couple of hours with them. We looked out over the sun-dappled water and talked about everything from the trivial to the deeply personal. While we were there, we were introduced to every friend or family member that happened by. By the time we resumed our wanderings, two out of every three people we waved to were ones we already knew.

We popped in at the Police Station in the hopes that we could turn the Departure cards from our passports in to them instead of going all of the way to the resort to get to the Immigration office there. Within no time Officer Williams offered to drive us to Immigration in his squad car.

He dropped us off and five seconds later, we were ready for pickup again. We told him we would be happy to return to the Police Station, but he said he didn’t mind dropping us off closer to the boat. We came up with the compromise of being dropped at the restaurant next to Magic and Ashton’s awning. When I stepped out of the police car, Magic asked what is going on.

”I don’t know” I replied and pointed to Officer Williams, “But he REALLY wants to talk to you!!”

Guffaws all around.

The kitchen was closed, so we had no choice but to hang out some more until hunger really did send us looking for an alternative eatery. That gave us the chance to wave at the other half of town along the way.

Magic gave us a warm welcome in this peaceful, friendly, seaside village

Even though we really hadn’t done much, we both agreed our day in West End was our favorite during our whole time in The Bahamas. We weren’t being catered to or being offered any service we could desire for a fee. We were just enjoying the simple and universal pleasure of spending a slow day with nice people while enjoying pretty scenery in fine weather.

Conch gathering (and fishing) and preparing seems to be the main industry in the small town. The catch being delivered to the lager/tourist towns on the Island