We’ve got a couple of weeks to spend in the Abacos, and that
isn’t a hard thing to do. People often
compare the Abacos with South Florida. It has many ex-pat vacation homes, ranging
from cottages to mansions, plenty of comparatively upscale resorts, and more
amenities than we’ve seen since arriving in the Bahamas. Our time is divided between cruising the
barrier islands and dropping into Marsh
Harbor for shelter during
stormy weather. Since we are a deep
draft boat, there are very few places for us to hide when a storm hits, so we
find ourselves in and out of our little pocket of deep water in Marsh Harbor.
In the span of two weeks we have had several fronts come through, giving us a
total of eight inches of rain. It is safe to say we are no longer salt
incrusted.
During periods of settled weather we go island hopping. Sunday is a must at Nipper’s on Guana
Cay. Everyone, Bahamians and visitors
alike, makes an appearance, and the deck
and two pools are packed with party-goers. It’s loud with a DJ belting out
Bahamian and American tunes.
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| The Sunday afternoon action at Nipper's |
After a
while, a stroll along the ocean beach makes a nice break from the chaos. Later
we walk back to the inside beach where we have left our dinghy and meet up with
some British friends we had originally met in Miami at Christmas. We stop at another beach
bar, Grabbers, for a light dinner.
Before long some of the overflow from Nipper’s show up, nicely
lubricated from the earlier festivities, and the action, even at quiet
Grabbers, gets going again.
Hopetown is one of our favorite cays in the Abacos; it is
what you might call cute. The village is
full of older restored cottages painted bright colors.
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| The new Hopetown Marina, done in a style typical of the village |
There are souvenir shops and waterfront bars.
We have to anchor far out due to the depths, but the weather is settled so the
distance is no problem. One day we take
the dinghy the entire length of Elbow Cay, the island on which Hopetown is
located. Along the way we see newer,
huge mansions and docks with large yachts – foreign money is plentiful here and
the locals seem to be flourishing from the infusion of cash. At the end of Elbow Cay, we come to Tahiti Beach,
a sand bar that extends a ways off shore.
It is a fun place to explore at low tide, and today it is populated by
many families as the waters are so kid friendly.
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| Exploring the sand bar at Tahiti Beach on Elbow Cay |
Walking along the sand bar, Burt finds a
small starfish. Upon turning it over, we see the claw of an even smaller crab
protruding from its “mouth”. It looks like this starfish had a pretty nice
breakfast today.
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| Starfish consuming a crab - the last claw is sticking out of its "mouth" |
Another day, we take our bikes and ride the length of Elbow
Cay on a decently paved road. Again, we
see million dollar homes perched on the barrier dunes and make a brief stop at
the well known and lovely Abaco Inn.
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| The beautiful oceanside pool at the Abaco Inn |
But, our favorite stop is at the pool side
bar/restaurant at the Hopetown Harbor Inn.
Overlooking the ocean, we sit by the beautifully landscaped pool and
enjoy lunch and drinks.
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| The gardens and pool side dining at the Hopetown Harbor Inn |
Once revived, we
climb down the stairs to the mile long
beach for a stroll in the breaking waves. Hurricane Sandy made a direct hit at this spot, and the
beach has eroded since we were here last year, but no one seems too concerned –
sand comes and sand goes, and it looks like the beach is beginning to fill in
again.
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| What remains of the beach at Hopetown |
Another day we take the boat further south in the Sea of Abaco
to an area administered by the national parks.
Here, at Sandy Cay, there are mooring buoys for dinghies and some of the
best snorkeling in the Bahamas.
The coral is exceptionally healthy and
small, colorful reef fish are abundant. Since the water is unusually warm, we
can spend most of the afternoon swimming. During the time we are snorkeling, we
see eleven large spotted eagle rays swimming with the current. Between the
clear water and their graceful movements, it appears they are flying and gliding
through air. As there is an ocean swell where we have anchored Exuberant, we
move over to the protection of isolated Taloo Cay for a restful night.
While we have been in the Abacos, we have experienced a
succession of weather fronts passing through with remarkable quantities of rain. Now, we see a break in the pattern and start
positioning ourselves to leave for the States.
It is a flat calm day as we motor across the Sea of Abaco. In depths averaging 15 feet we can see every
blade of grass and a bounty of starfish on the bottom.
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| Star fish on the bottom in the Sea of Abaco - the water clarity is amazing on a calm day |
We pass through the Whale Cut, an area often
known for crashing waves along the boundary where the Sea
of Abaco meets the Atlantic
Ocean. Today it is almost
calm, and we make it through easily, anchoring in the lee of Green Turtle
Cay. We have plenty of time to explore
the White Sound area of the cay, stopping for Happy Hour at a lovely, restored
resort.
The next day we plan to explore the settlement of New
Plymouth, but the weather reports indicated that we should begin our trip
north. Our original destination was to
be Beaufort, NC,
but over the course of the day that is shortened to Charlestown,
SC, then St. Augustine,
FL, then Cape Canaveral,
FL, and finally Ft. Pierce, FL – the weather just isn’t being very helpful.
As we head east across the Little Bahama Banks, we are joined by at least
twenty other boats. Some plan to
overnight in the protection of Great Sale Cay, while others, including us, have
decided to head directly to Ft.
Pierce through the
night. It is a gorgeous full moon night
with just a hint of wind. Many of the stars are obscured by the bright
moonlight, and we can always make out the horizon. It is calm enough that we sail for a while
with just the jib while barbecuing steaks on the back deck. In the middle of the night, we slip off the
banks into the deep ocean waters and by sunrise find ourselves in the Gulf Stream which is much bouncier than expected. Forty
miles of queasy stomachs later we are free of the confused seas, and several
hours after that we make our way into the Ft. Pierce Inlet.
We have arrived back in the States and life should be easy,
but it is not working out quit that way.
We have something called a Local Boater’s Option Card which allows us to
clear into the States by phone. As we
are coming in, we make the call, but the agent says we need to be at a dock to
clear in. We can’t do that as there are
no marinas in Ft.
Pierce with sufficient
depth for Exuberant, so we agree to anchor off a marina and make our call. This should be a quick transaction, so we
drop the anchor with minimal scope and without backing it down, and turn off
the engine to comply with the requirement of being anchored. Once we get the clearance, we attempt to
start the engine but nothing happens. We are now poorly anchored off a busy
channel with strong currents and have no way to move to a better location or do
a better job of anchoring. Burt quickly
checks obvious causes of our problem but finds nothing. At that point, we launch the dinghy off our
deck, attach the outboard, and tie it to the side (hip) of Exuberant. This way,
if we get in an emergency situation, we might be able to control the boat with
the power of the dinghy. Meanwhile,
friends have pulled in behind us and are offering suggestions for trouble
shooting, staying the night for moral and perhaps other support. After tracing wiring and checking electrical
draws, Burt finds that the ignition switch has gone bad. He removes it from the panel and works on it for
several hours until he can get some voltage through it. Over the years water has gotten into the
switch and corroded the mechanism. The next morning, our fingers crossed, we
start the engine up with the jerry rigged ignition and head north twelve miles
to the mooring field in Vero Beach, a protected harbor where we will stay until
a new switch arrives. We feel very
fortunate that this failure occurred in the States and not in some remote
location in the Bahamas.
In the meantime, the hoards of boats that have also crossed
over from the Bahamas are
gathering in Vero Beach. It is like a grand homecoming with everyone discussing
their winter’s adventures. There are
meals out at local restaurants, happy hours, and visits with friends who are
CLOD (Cruisers Living on Dirt – ex-cruisers who have taken up residence in
Vero). Cruising friends from Annapolis who have just
purchased a condo near the marina invite us over to see their new digs. And we
meet new cruising friends including a couple from Turkey
who now keep their sailboat in the States since crossing the Atlantic
several years ago. We take one afternoon to bicycle through some of the nicer
Vero neighborhoods, admiring the lush tropical landscaping, probably thanks to
the incessant rain. Besides all the fun,
we get much accomplished during our stay. With torrential rains almost every
day (around 10 inches in eight days) the salt accumulations have been power
washed off the boat. Burt polishes the
hull and stainless. I do eleven loads of wash, including much of our interior cushions
and bedding, all of which have become a bit salty over the months. We have access by a free bus to do a lot of
shopping, replacing ship stores that have been depleted. During the time we are
in Vero the recurrent storms are making the ocean impassible, much to the local
surfers’ delight. Waves are reported eighteen feet high in the Gulf Stream. We will stay in Vero, bailing the dinghy on
a daily basis, until this unseasonable weather finally clears.
We are now into early May when we had assumed we would be
much further north. We finally get the word that conditions will improve during
the second week of May. We decide to
start up the ICW towards St. Augustine.
In the distance, we see the line of storm clouds out over the Gulf
Stream, but it is mild along the waterway. In the three days it
will take to reach St. Augustine, the ocean
should finally settle, and we hope to make a long passage between St. Augustine and Beaufort,
NC where we can easily rejoin the
ICW. Our fingers are crossed as this has been a winter of changeable weather
that often alters our plans at the last minute.
And did we mention that it is windy in the Bahamas? This
is a picture of our now retired Bahamian courtesy flag. It is/was an unusually durable flag, and you
can see what remains of it after three months in a stiff breeze.
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| The remains of our Bahamian courtesy flag after three months of cruising |
