Return to the U.S.A.

[Kyle]When the wind had finally moved far enough to the northeast from north, we pulled up anchor and left The Bahamas for the U.S. Even though we were sailing close to the wind, the sail was pleasant with the last of the reefs to windward flattening the seas. In due course, that all ended and we were soon having to hold on and dive out of the helm seat to avoid the errant wave. By sunset, we had reached the edge of the Gulf Stream. Our speed over ground climbed into the teens and stayed there for the next day and a half.

As we shot north, the wind and waves gradually veered astern. Conditions morphed from annoying to pleasant. The warm waters of the Gulf Stream kept the temperatures nice and tropical, even though we were pushing into what was the end of the Northern winter just ten days previously.

The wind started to blow hard from the south. We used as much sail as the gusts would allow since we knew it was forecast to continue veering to the west and increasing to gale force. The last hundred miles to Charleston, South Carolina are in pretty shallow water and I didn’t want to be there in forty-knot gusts.

An Easy sail with Pelicans at both ends of the passage

When our second and last morning came, we had just left the Gulf Stream. We were seventy miles out and all the forecasts were saying the gale should be arriving any minute now. When we finally sailed into the flat water between the breakwaters at the entrance to Charleston Harbor, the most wind we had seen so far was eighteen knots. By the time we sailed past Fort Sumpter just a few minutes later, we were going upwind at seven knots with only three square meters of jib unrolled. The channel turned directly upwind, so we rolled it up and started the engines. It was a few minutes before they were warmed up enough to drive us forward into the building thirty-knot gusts.

When we arrived at Charleston City Marina to clear in, we were pleased to find that our assigned space was alongside their big megadock, with no fancy maneuvering required. A lot of the boats who were scheduled to leave had elected to stay through the blow, so they cleared out a little slot that was barely longer than Begonia. The wind was blowing directly onto the dock, so all I had to do was use asymmetric power to keep us centered in our gap and aligned with the dock as the wind blew us in sideways, letting the fenders absorb the impact. Leaving would be pretty much impossible now, so it’s a good thing we have a couple of days to let the storm blow itself out before we have to try.

Aside from the dock crew ready to assist us, we were also greeted by two couples from the local Ocean Cruising Club (OCC) port officers (Kurt and Carol) and visiting OCC member boaters (Bill & Lydia) that had been monitoring our progress – we had quite the welcome. Our on-line clearing-in request wasn’t going as smoothly as expected so we were not quite sure what our legal status was without an "all clear" message; we opted to thank everyone from a distance and agreed to meet up later once rested and official.

We last left the USA by boat in November of 2016(!), and have only manged a few brief returns via plane: Kyle to collect parts and visit with his Mom while we were in Chile (March 2018), and a quick day trip to San Francisco to reset our visas in January of 2020. Our planned "proper" vacation around Easter of 2020 was all cancelled due to Covid, so visits with family and friends are long overdue.

We had a warm welcome from fellow OCC Members on our arrival
Bill and Lydia (of Take Five), and Kurt and Carol(Charleston OCC Port officers )

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

Chub Cay, Berry Islands

[Kyle]Our next stop from Allan’s was at Chub Cay in the Berry group of islands. The first part of the passage had us crossing the bank of shallow water between the Exuma chain and Providenciales (home to the Capital city of Nassau). That was some lovely spinnaker sailing in crystal-clear turquoise water. At the shallowest part, called Yellow Bank, we only had 20-30cm of water below our keels. Here, it is necessary to thread a path through shallower bommies. As the day wore on, I had a couple of nervous moments when I saw a previously unnoticed dark patch dead ahead with no time to swerve around it. It turned out to be Begonia’s shadow on the sand below. That’s about in the same category as altering course to avoid traffic and then realizing that the light you can see is actually the planet Venus. We should pass well clear.

In Order to make the distance AND have good light for the various shallow bits, we needed to do an overnight passage. We got to sail by Nassau just around sunset and wave from a distance.

We reached the end of the bank just before sunset. There, the depths increase to about a kilometer. We furled the spinnaker and unrolled just a scrap of jib for the few remaining miles to Chub Cay. To get to the shallows there at daybreak only required us to travel at two-and-a-half knots. Maryanne was doing a little better than that, so she rolled up the sail before waking me for my night watch. Now all I had to do was point the boat in the right direction and wait.

I must confess that the marketing got me with regard to the Berrys. Our guidebook says something along the lines of it being the most unspoiled group in The Bahamas. I should have read between the lines, because it also said that several cruise ship companies have their own private islands for their guests. They are on the northern end of the Berry chain, where the water behind the islands there is deep enough to anchor their giant ships. On the other end is Chub Cay, which turns out to be the epicenter of big game fishing in the Bahamas. People spend small fortunes to fly in and spend a day trying to hook a marlin or a swordfish. In between are the several remote and isolated islands mentioned in the guide. These can only be safely accessed by going to one end of the Berrys or the other and then backtracking several miles to the center. That makes them terribly inconvenient for those passing through with a slow boat.

The notes about Chub Cay Resort were that it is very nice and they will allow sailors to buy a day pass and use their facilities. I think I was looking at the 1996 price sheet when I decided Maryanne and I would just splurge and hang out on the beach for the day. When Maryanne inquired, the answer came back that Day Passes are now $100 each. “ARE YOU F…..”

It’s good for up to five people from your boat, they counter. Okay...

After a little more digging, Maryanne found a half price offer and did exactly what they want you to do. We did sail all of the way here and we’re only ever going to see the place once and it would be a shame to have to stare at it from the boat and not go ashore, so we gulped and she booked it.

When we rowed ashore (much to the amusement of the guests in the cabanas lining the channel), we were told there was an additional $19 fee each for club membership (it lasts until the end of the year). That’s how they get ya- pay $38 to not lose your $50. That’s just to get in. As far as we could tell the only thing that entitled us to was as many pool towels as we wanted, as long it was no more than two at a time.

Fine.

Looking around at the multi-million-dollar boats in the marina, it was clear that their usual clientele wants to be charged high prices for everything because all of those annoying remainders past the fifth zero are just icky. Well, we’re here, let’s spend the whole day at the pool milking their wifi.

Not too shabby!

The place really is lovely and the pool barman managed to (easily) convince us that frozen drinks would help take the edge off. After a few swims, we had a delicious meal served by a server that had what seemed to me to be a well-practiced permanent smile.

A dose of luxury was thoroughly enjoyed, and we could see Begonia at anchored from our recliners

Maryanne, being who she is, researched everything there is to do at Chub Cay with our Day Passes. The official answer is, of course, that everything we could ever possibly desire is available within the clubhouse grounds. She found a second bar, the Nauti Rooster, some distance away from the main resort area, it’s the bar in which they hold the fishing competition festivities (so I imagine it can get quite rowdy). There was no fishing tournaments on during our visit, and since the terms of our Day Pass clearly said we were to vacate the island by 5pm, she made sure we left the compound in time to give it a look.

When we swung the door to the Nauti Rooster open, I immediately loved it. This is the part of the island where the staff are housed. The place is basically a pre-fab box with cheap, old kitchen furniture. Inside were just a bunch of regular people drinking local beers, which were ¼ what the posh resort bar charges. They were friendly and it was nice to hang out and chat with Bahamians when they weren’t in ass-kissing mode.

Kyle was much more comfortable in the Nauti Rooster bar

Maryanne and I then walked back to the dinghy for the row home. As we rounded the corner, I noticed the attendant discretely watching us around the corner, presumably to make sure we were planning to stay gone after our 5pm curfew. [Maryanne] We had a lovely day, reading by the pool is something we only do about once a decade (or less frequently). Having cocktails delivered to our pool loungers, swimming up to the tiki bar, and making the most of resort towels for lounging, showering, etc all felt very decadent. It was a rare day of luxury and I loved it. But once a decade is about the right timing for such a fantasy day.

Allan & Leaf Cays, Exumas

[Kyle]After Thunderball Grotto, we joined a long queue of northwest bound boats for the trip up the protected shallows behind the Exuma chain. Even though it was in slight headwinds and a bit more blustery than forecast, it was pleasant to be able to sail fast on flat water.

At Allan Cay, we dropped anchor in the narrow channel in turquoise water in the middle of the group (Allan, South Allan and Leaf Cays). Allan's is a good stepping off/arrival point for boats crossing from Nassau/Providenciales. They have the a unique inhabitant: the critically endangerd Allen Cays Rock Iguana which are only found on these 3 small islands.

Ashore at Leaf Cay

Begonia and the Rock Iguanas

Like the pigs at Big Major, the iguanas at Allan’s are a (slightly smaller) tourist attraction and they are used to being fed by visitors. We went ashore the next morning on South Allan with a tub full of grapes (Iguanas are herbivores) and were surprised when they all scurried away from us as we approached. We tried again on Leaf Cay and were met by a few that cautiously approached us. Once they figured out we had grapes, we were their new best friend.

It can be a little intimidating when the big ones start charging at you, trying to beat out the others in the grape race. I used to have a regular green iguana of about the same size, so I know their behavior is mostly bluster. They protect themselves by whipping their tails or by biting, but really they want to scare you away to a safe distance before it comes to that. If you stay calm, they tend to not panic and lash out.

The main issue with the rock iguanas is really enthusiasm. They jump and lunge and snap at anything they think might be food. Also their eyesight doesn't seem that great. I got scratched as they scurried up me and a couple of them bit the wrong end of the skewer from which I was passing them the grapes. My lizard of yore had razor-sharp teeth and little hypodermic needles for claws, so I winced when the first one ran up my bare legs and chomped down on my finger, thinking it might be a grape. It seems all the sand in their environment has given them a nice pedicure. Even their teeth didn’t break the skin. That makes them MUCH cuter.

Allan Cay was had jagged rocks all over (thankfully we have a hard dinghy). We did find one small beach to land on but we couldn't get very far from it. There were Iguanas around, but they didn't want any company.

We tried landing on Allan Cay, the third island of the group, but found it to be such an impenetrable mass of sharp, shoe-slicing limestone that we gingerly returned to the dinghy, aware that any slip would likely sever or impale anything held out to break the fall. We returned to Begonia to pick up more food and then headed back to Leaf Cay to see the iguanas again. I think they are much more fun than the pigs at Big Major.

This time, we started with the previous night’s food scraps. They wolfed down the potato and yam peelings and even seemed to like onions and the accidental onion skins that had made their way into the food bag. They were happily munching away until we broke out dessert: more grapes. Then they had about as much interest in the other stuff as I do in a can of sardines covered in marmite. I guess everyone likes dessert.

From a small beach on Leaf Cay there is a trail to the other side of the island with a beautiful beach - we hung out with the iguans there too (our favourite spot). Even without the iguanas, this is a beautiful place to visit