Continued Crossings
Out running the wind to Eleuthera
Coffee with the Generator
Saturday morning, we woke well after dawn in Bullocks Bay and started the day by topping off our battery bank with a couple of hours of the Genie 🧞 making electricity. While the juice was flowing, I also made water — filling our tanks by converting seawater to freshwater through reverse osmosis (RO).
Eventually I radioed the local marina and requested a slip for two nights plus an appointment to check into the Bahamas.
The Narrow Cut Drama
From Bullocks Bay to the marina on Great Harbor Cay (pronounced “Key”) you must first pass the VERY narrow cut into Five Pirate Bay. It’s a steep ravine carved from the rock.
Even though I radioed “sécurité, sécurité, SV Angelfish 🐠 is passing through the cut to Great Harbor Marina, all vessels be advised. Standing by on 16,” no one else was on the radio.
As I approached, two vessels (one with no AIS) exited without any call. I made Angelfish hover in place as they left. We entered the cut keeping to the deep water in the center, when a local sports fishing boat roared out, making the gap even narrower. Needless to say we didn’t film any of this — we were a bit busy.
Marina Check-In & Politics
We brought Angelfish 🐠 past the fuel dock and into the marina slip easily. The Dockmaster “Mr T” helping out. I then wired her for shore power. This area is so protected from the wind that the sun really heats up the cabin below, so I expected we’d need AC. The marina also sells fresh water at 50 cents a gallon, but their RO system was down — so I was glad I filled up earlier.
By noon we had checked in and our passports stamped. We were good for 90 days. What cost $300 last year was now $700. We asked the customs officers if they’d seen a decline since the price jump.
“Oh yeah. Everywhere’s empty,” one said. I asked how much of the $700 stayed on the local islands. They laughed. “It all stays in Nassau.” The other added, “The Abacos wanted to secede and make their own money, but Nassau said no, no, no.” Politics everywhere, feeding politicians.
Marina adventures
K spent the day washing the salt off Angelfish 🐠 (using our own water) and polishing stainless steel. I took out trash, hoisted a sunshade over the foredeck, and planned our next passages, I try to always keep one eye on the local weather.
That evening the no-see-ums were out in force, so we closed up the boat and ran the AC. Next morning we woke to a puddle on the floor. Our AC unit was leaking. K, our resident plumber, grabbed the screwdriver, pulled the big mirror off that covered the compressor coil, and cleared the clogged condensation tray and drain line together. Fixed in minutes. She’s a very handy First Mate that one.
It’s important to remember that your boat is always about to break somewhere — you just don’t know where yet.
After the AC fix, K spent the rest of Sunday morning doing our laundry, and I wrote Substack posts and assembled our two JackRabbit bikes. With chores all done, we rode our electric scooters to Sand Dollar Beach, about 2 miles away on mostly flat roads. There we relaxed on white sand that felt like talc, walked in the turquoise waters and found one broken sand dollar. We hated to leave, but we would be leaving in the morning, so returned and packed everything away for the next leg.
Fuel Dock Fiasco
By 7:30 am on Monday we paid the bill and moved to the fuel dock. The finger pier here was ridiculously short. K heroically got lines around the pilings while the attendant just stood there watching. Completely unhelpful!
He handed me the diesel hose and walked off. I filled the tanks, he came back for my card, pointed to the trash, then watched us, as we backed out. Never have I seen a more unhelpful dockhand. I was warned this was the worst fuel stop in the Bahamas… but I hate traveling with our tanks not topped off.
Angelfish 🐠 headed back out through Five Pirate Bay, through the cut with no drama. Once out into Bulluck’s Bay we pulled out the Genoa and two-thirds of the main for a wonderful broad-reach run north.
The winds built favorably as we quietly sailed up around the Berry Islands, and passed the giant cruise ship terminals that make a destination stop here. But our final leg around back south was straight into the wind, so the Dragon 🐉 took us the last hour pounding into 2.5 foot swells. The sea spray had just re-coated Angelfish 🐠 with salt. Eventually we made it into the protected anchorage at Sand Dollar Cove. Gloriously, overnight it rained and washed the boat clean.
Out running the Storm
Tuesday morning we were off again before dawn on a 9-hour run to Spanish Wells, the northern island of the Eleuthera chain. We were taking advantage of a short weather window that would allow traverse the North Providence Channel and anchor safely during an expected 5-day northerly blow that was coming on fast. We needed solid holding for the Rocna anchor to keep us in place against winds peaking at 38 knots.
The wind started off great from the west and grew stronger. We flew full main and Genoa on a broad reach, then jibed (not easy in 20+ knots) to go wing-on-wing as the wind shifted northwest. Friends from the Great Harbor Marina snapped a picture of us screaming along before the jibe.
Midday the wind died — Dragon 🐉 to the rescue. The seas weren’t calm at first and we rolled around not feeling that well. Then the wind unexpectedly shifted east and we pushed harder into it.
Eventually, we reached the Egg Island Cut, and after passing this very narrow pass, we headed toward Royal Island. I had read from previous sailors that the holding here was exceptional. Five boats were already in the spots I’d planned on. So we punted and tucked in as best we could, buried the Rocna deep with 10:1 scope of 3/8″ chain, added a long 12-foot snubber. There was a more protected Cove further up on Royal Island, but I feared it would be crowded and wouldn’t allow us to put out so much chain.
I backed down on the anchor with the full force of the Dragon 🐉 to ensure a deep hold from the Rocna and we settled down to wait for the storm.
Next up, five days blowing hard.