Unexcused Absences

January 25, 2016 – January 31, 2016. After two storms in a seven day stretch, we were hoping to finally experience the weather talked about in the tourist brochures. We did some quick grocery shopping in Rock Sound, Eleuthera, and hoisted anchor and were on our way by 11am. The wind was about 5-7 knots out of the north, and we were traveling west, so the crossing to the northern Exumas was literally like driving across a pond.

Good Morning Vietnam and Cookie were a few hours ahead of us, and we heard them on the radio discussing the fishing (not biting) and the large pod of pilot whales they cruised through (amazing). We had our lines out too, but didn’t see any action.

Some pilot whales during our crossing from Eleuthera

Around early afternoon we too came upon a pod of pilot whales, I assume the same ones. Apparently these whales are known for lounging at the surface on calm, sunny days. I guess they need their day at the beach too.

We pulled into a little anchorage between Allen’s Cay and Leaf Cay, a mile or so north of Highbourne Cay. Good Morning Vietnam was anchored a few boats in front of us, while Cookie had continued south and was down near Normans Cay. We were now, finally, in the Exumas. The whole point of this crazy adventure on Miss Adventure is to spend a winter and spring in the Exuma chain of tiny islands stretching south-east from Nassau. We will now take our time and very slowly work our way south and east through the island chain.

The anchorage at Allen’s Cay

Ha ha, just kidding. The reality is that there was yet another storm, bringing yet more west wind, in the forecast for a couple days from now. As I’ve mentioned earlier, west wind is the bane of our existence in the Bahamas, mostly because the prevailing east winds have piled up lots of sand on the west side of all the little islands, so there are literally thousands of anchorages that are protected from the easterly tradewinds. Unfortunately, the islands offer very few places to hide from west winds.

So rather than linger and explore Highbourne, Normans, Shroud, and Hawksbill Cays, we would have to seek shelter. We would need to get to Warderick Wells, the headquarters of the Exuma Cays Land and Sea Park and also home to some of the only west wind protection in the northern Exumas. The alternatives (retreat back east to Rock Sound in Eleuthera, or north and west to Nassau), were completely unacceptable.

Visiting Leaf Cay

Fortunately, Brian and Susan (Good Morning Vietnam) invited us over for dinner, so we had someone else to complain to about the weather. Brian and Susan are a hoot; each is previously divorced, and they met a couple years ago on vacation in Vietnam and decided to chuck their careers and buy a boat and go sailing. An outstanding, and Dr. Vacation-approved, choice.

The famous iguanas at Allens Cay

The next morning we took an hour to visit the iguanas at South-West Allens Cay and enjoy a quick swim before heading south, while GMV went over to Highbourne to buy some diesel and some overpriced provisions. Our cruise down the “Banks” side was beautiful, with clear skies, shallow turquoise water, and green island after green island passing by to port. We caught up to GMV right as it was time to pass through the Warderick Cut into the Exuma Sound for the two mile “outside” passage to the southern mooring field at Warderick Wells, between Warderick and Hogs Cay.

The Exuma Land and Sea Park maintains a large section of the northern Exumas as a no-fish, no-take zone. They have set up mooring fields in the popular anchorages to help preserve the sea bed. Many are first-come, first-served, but the most coveted moorings are assigned at 9am every morning based on a waiting list compiled in the previous 24 hours. And we were hoping to get a spot in either Warderick North or Warderick South.

On our way to Warderick Wells

Unfortunately, we could not reach the park by VHF radio from where we were parked, north of Highbourne Cay. But we had a secret weapon in David and Barbara on Cookie, who were anchored between us and the park. So Good Morning Vietnam asked Cookie to request a mooring for all of us, and sure enough, our three boats were assigned moorings in the Warderick South / Hog Cay field.

The view from our mooring at Hog Cay

Hog Cay is one of favorite wife’s favorite places on earth. The completely protected bay only has moorings for five boats along a deep channel of water, and the rest of the bay is shallow sand, so the water absolutely glows turquoise. The chance to ride out the storm in this perfect bay, with our friends Cooke and GMV, was too good to be true. But that’s what happened.

“Cookie”, “Good Morning Vietnam”, and “Miss A” moored at Hog Cay

And the best news of all is that the “storm” hardly brought any rain or even clouds, only a nice stiff wind from the west. I was able to spend a whole afternoon windsurfing across 4-foot deep clear blue water. At happy hour we all dinghied to a little beach to watch the sunset, and later, we hosted dinner for both Cookie and Good Morning Vietnam onboard Miss Adventure.

Dinner onboard “Miss Adventure”

The next day the six of us (the only three boats in the south field) took a dinghy ride several miles north along the west side of Warderick to the Park Trust Headquarters. Once there we snorkeled the narrows to the south-west of the northern mooring field, then hiked the ~1 hour loop to the Causeway, Hutia Hill, and Boo Boo Hill. After a late lunch on the beach, we made it back to the south mooring field just in time for happy hour. We invited the other two boats that showed up, Vicki and Art on Don Quixote, and a bunch of French Canadians on a rental catamaran, and again watched the gorgeous sunset from our little beach.

The Warderick Wells north anchorage

After four nights moored in paradise we decided to get on our way. Cookie left first, followed by Good Morning Vietnam, and finally Miss Adventure (our motto: Up and out by eleven). Cookie mentioned they were going to put the lines out for their sail south, and as we left the inlet into the Exuma Sound, David called on the radio, “the Mahi store is now open for business.” They had caught a 15 pounder. We put our lines out once we hit the Park boundary, and almost immediately we saw GMV tack to port to head towards deep water. They crossed not far in front of us, then tacked back to their original heading, and the two of us cruised in formation down the Exuma Sound, near where the depth plunges from ~100 feet to over 2000 feet.

Final happy hour at Hog Cay; Brian, Susan, Heather, Kent, Barbara, and David

We were getting near the entrance to Conch Cut, between Compass Cay and Cambridge Cay, and were about to give up and pull our lines in when I saw Brian suddenly luff into the wind and roll up his jib. I figured he had hooked a fish, and spun us around so we were heading right to the spot where he rounded up. Sure enough, one of our lines went taught. A bit of comedy ensued, as neither Heather nor I had ever caught a fish of any size before, much less a game fish out in the open ocean with the boat rolling around under us. Brian knew what he was doing, and pointed GMV dead upwind at a slow idle so he could bring in his Mahi.

We sort of slowly drove around in circles, while alternately reeling in the fish, running up to the flybridge to make course adjustments, taking pictures, and generally acting clueless. We somehow kept the fish, which was actively swimming back and forth across the stern, from tangling the fishing line in either the dinghy tow rope or the other fishing line we had out. As he (she?) got close, the Mahi jumped a few times, and I’ll never forget the neon yellow color against the deep blue of the ocean. If only we had a photo that wasn’t a) jittery, b) out of focus, or c) pointing at a spot the fish was a few seconds ago.

Our Mahi in the net

Anyway, I finally got the fish into our giant net and hauled him (her?) aboard. We frankly never expected to get this far, and only had a vague idea of what to do with this 30-inch long gamefish flopping around on our poop deck. More comedy ensued as we tried to subdue it with vodka (really). “Squirt it again.” “No, not in the face, in the gills.” Eventually we got a shot of vodka right into the gills, and the fish went limp in the blink of an eye. It really does work, and you don’t end up with fish blood and guts all over your boat like the more manly fishermen who use a bat to beat their catch senseless.

Our very first fish, a 7 pound Mahi

Once we got things settled down we called on the radio to check on Good Morning Vietnam, who appeared to be heading east over the horizon towards Portugal. Brian reported that he had hooked two Mahi, and was cleaning and filleting them right on the spot. Miss Adventure was really rolling in the seas, and I figured that trying to balance a slippery fish, a cutting board, and a sharp fillet knife was probably not the best of plans, so we put our fish in a bucket and headed for the nearest anchorage.

Forty five minutes later we eased into the tight channel at the north-west tip of Pipe Cay and dropped anchor in yet another gorgeous spot surrounded by turquoise sandbars on one side and the lush green hillside of Pipe Cay on the other (if you can call a 20-foot tall mound a hill).

“Miss Adventure” anchored off Pipe Cay

Sunset from Pipe Cay

We just finished cutting up our fish (which weighed in at 7 pounds) when GMV pulled in and dropped anchor next to us. Heather made a batch of Mahi ceviché and we invited Brian and Susan over to eat fish and exchange fish tales. They ended up catching a 7 pounder and a 9 pounder. That evening we made Mahi sushi with avocado, chives, and blackened sesame seeds, then followed it up with a Mahi omelette the next morning, pan-seared Mahi sandwiches at noon, Susan’s version of Mahi ceviché for happy hour, and a sort of poached Mahi with blackened onions and red peppers for dinner. Thirty hours of serial fish consumption, but it was most definitely the best Mahi we’ve ever had. We were understandably quite proud of our $400 fish.*

Our fish on the cutting board

Preparing our sushi dinner

Freshest sushi ever!

For the next two days we alternated dinghy, kayak, and snorkel adventures around Compass Cay, all the while eating fresh fish, as described above. At this point we are technically out of the northern Exumas, so I’ll continue our story in the next post where I will cover our adventures in the central Exumas.

Odd jellyfish in the mangrove creek at Compass Cay

Anemone

Tube worms

Bahamas 2016 Cruise – Northern Exumas

• Engine Hours: 15
• Generator Hours: 26
• Miles Traveled: 92
• Marina and Mooring Fees: $140 (four nights in the Exumas Land and Sea Park)

Bahamas 2016 Cruise – Total Numbers

• Engine Hours: 60
• Generator Hours: 56
• Miles Traveled: 374
• Marina and Mooring Fees: $1,110 (includes one month of parking on Grand Bahama during the holidays)

* That’s about what we spent on a rod and reel, large net, gaff, lures, lines and leaders, plus spearfishing gear, gloves, fillet knife, and sharpening stone. Hopefully we’ll catch at least three more, because four $100 fish sounds much better than a single $400 fish.

Bahamas 2016 Cruise – Northern Exumas 1

Our hike on Warderick

Boo Boo Hill at Warderick Wells

“Miss Adventure” moored at Hog Cay

The dinghy loaded with windsurfing gear

Pan-seared Mahi sandwich on fresh bread

North mooring field at Warderick Wells

One more look at “Miss A” moored at Hog Cay