I don’t wanna brag, but we are killin’ this thing! It was worth waiting for excellent conditions. We got our weather window today, and we went for it!
65 miles from Marsh Harbor to Eleuthera
Almost 5 hours
4 of those hours in the open Atlantic, out of sight of land, no other boats in sight all day – And at the journey’s end: a narrow channel flanked by dangerous coral heads!
And I really have to applaud Lynn: the first two hours in the ocean were daunting. Large ocean swells, about 5 feet from trough to top, coming at us bow-on. The boat handled them very well: we just ran up the face of the swell and down the other side, but there was plenty of spray over the windshield. It wasn’t scary, but it certainly was impressive…it seriously held your attention. Lynn isn’t afraid in these conditions. She just asks me if I am OK / if it is what I expected. If so, she actually enjoys it!
We’ll have more to report about Spanish Wells tomorrow. We just wanted to let y’all know that we’re safe and sound!
TTFN
PS: Lynn here….
And this was after three of Preston’s mojitos last night. Preston is the bartender at the Abaco marina and his drinks are wonderful. Here’s the recipe he shared with us.
After a wonderful month of R&R, we’re moving on. Here are a few highlights from the past couple of weeks:
Lynn Kayaking off our beautiful beach……
Celebrating Lynn’s birthday at the elegant restaurant in the resort….
Took the boat across to Elbow Cay for lunch at Firefly….
Super Bowl party. (Guinness had more to say about this in his blog post from February 13….
Valentine’s Day dinner at Abaco Beach Resort…..
Guinness’ new haircut…….before and after!
And a very surprising chance encounter. We were having coffee onboard one morning when a pretty young woman approached the boat and asked “Are you Rod?” It was a woman named Heather, the daughter of Earl Smith, a man I have know since at least high school (maybe grade school)!
Heather and her partner Greg were guests on a gorgeous 100+ Westport. Earl and Josie follow the blog, so when they realized that Heather was going to be visiting the same marina, they urged her to reach out. What a great surprise!
The next part of our adventure is a 60-mile passage from Marsh Harbor on Great Abaco Island (That’s where we are now) to Spanish Wells on the island of Eleuthera. Don’t those names sound exotic? Spanish Wells… Eleuthera…
The main part of the trip is a 45-mile leg in the open Atlantic. And to get out into the Atlantic, we must pass through a “Cut”, and these can be treacherous if the conditions are unfavorable.
So, as the end of our month approached, I’ve been watching the weather forecasts closely. The winds have been brisk offshore, and the wave heights daunting. But we have a window tomorrow! Perfect timing!
This month has been fun, but I am ready to get back on the road!
So yesterday was a crazy day. The wind in Marsh Harbour was really bad and the waves had the boat bouncing all night. And there’s the beeping fridge that started up again. I don’t think any of us got a good night’s sleep.
But in the afternoon, even though we were all tired, we went over to this big tent with really big screens. The guys kept talking about Eagles and Cheefs. Not sure what all the excitement was about but Lynn and Rod seemed really interested. I mostly just walked around saying hi to people.
Then, as it was getting dark, everyone got really excited and ordered beer and food. Thee were special foods for today – nachos, pizza, ribs (love them bones), chicken wings. It smelled so good and I went from table to table pleading for treats so I had to be put on a leash.
Once in a while, something exciting happened and Rod put on this funny green hat with a bird on the front that screamed and moved its wings. He would yell E-A-G-L-E-S…Eagles!. Then sometimes other people in the room started clapping and Rod and Lynn didn’t look so happy.
It was getting late and everyone seemed nervous. Rod even tried to put the funny green hat on me for “good luck”, but I guess it didn’t work because they looked very sad on the way back to the boat.
This is humiliating – and not my good side!
Will someone please explain to me what an Eagle is and why people like them so much but make them so sad. They kept saying “maybe next year”, but that’s seven years away for me!
Love
Guinness’s
PS: Oh, and I forgot, at one time there was a lady flying around and singing in a red dress. . Is that an Eagle?
So the night before last, this large boat pulled into the slip next to us. Seven men and one woman aboard. We were prepared for a heavy night of drinking and partying next door, but not a peep. The guys immediately started cleaning the boat – so thoroughly, it looked like they were prepping it to be “shown”
And as it turns out, that’s exactly what was happening. About mid-morning yesterday, we heard little voices laughing and talking. And headed our way. Turns out the owner is trying to help children recover from the trauma of Hurricane Dorian three years ago by inviting them to come on the boat and take a tour. So 24 little folks and the adults piled on the boat. They got to look around, blast the horn, and take a book with them. Watching them get off was like watching a clown car unload!
But that’s not all. We were sitting quietly on the beach in the afternoon when we heard more little voices. The second group of 32 was coming in for second tour. Not sure how they got all these kids aboard, but I’m sure they had a great time.
One of the boat guys, possibly the captain, said he wanted to give these kids an experience that he never had as a child. He told us there aren’t any school buses on the island so the teachers drive the kids around. I guess they just walk to and from school.
Then later that evening, the teachers came back with their families and the boat headed out for a sunset cruise. The crew had also taken them out to dinner the previous night.
They left today and I got a picture of their boat next to Freedom. It’s about twice as long, and a heck of a lot taller. We didn’t get any more details about how they decided to do this for the kids, how they got the boat from California, or whether they are making more stops in the islands, but we’ll keep an eye out when we move on next week.
What a great thing they are doing for these kids!
We are finally settling into this place and taking advantage of the beach, the two pools, and the wonderful weather.
Yesterday, we decided to go joyriding…exploring some of the other cays that define the “Hub of Abaco”. That’s the local name for a point just off Marsh Harbor, from which routes radiate to Treasure Cay, Great Guana Cay, Man O War Cay, Elbow Cay, and Great Abaco Island, where Marsh Harbor is located. These islands (cays) surround and define the Sea of Abaco, which is the body of water we are living on.
It was a gorgeous day for a ride – blue skies, and that beautiful aquamarine water so typical of the Bahamas.
We left mid-morning for Treasure Cay. It’s not truly a “Cay” per se. It’s more of a marketing construct – THE brand name for a development of homes, canals, marinas, and shops. The plan was to pull into the harbor, pick up a slip or a mooring ball, and spend the day on Treasure Cay Beach – one of the longest and (reportedly) most beautiful beaches in the Bahamas.
Unfortunately, it was not to be. Treasure Cay has made VERY little progress since Dorian. There were no docks; four (occupied) mooring balls; and a collection of little shacks that was supposed to pass for a “shopping center”. So sad.
No docks and the marina buildings are pancaked
So Treasure Cay became a drive-by, and we moved along to Great Guana Cay. The first stop was Baker’s Bay Marina, which presented a sharp contrast to Treasure Cay. The homes are all restored, the docks are brand-new, and we motored past one mega-yacht after another! Baker’s Bay is all private, so we couldn’t stay. But we did get to watch a pair of kite surfers on hydrofoil boards. WOW!
On to Orchid Bay Marina, just a half hour farther south on Great Guana Cay. We wanted to visit Orchid Bay, because there is a famous (notorious) beach bar called Nipper’s on the Atlantic side of the island. The ideas is to tie up in Orchid Bay and walk the short distance across the island to Nipper’s. Unfortunately, the roller coaster ride continued: we were thinking of staying overnight, but there was very little to induce us to stay. Half the harbor was filled with ruined docks, and there didn’t seem to be much going on at all.
Today is calm and quiet, and it’s kind of a maintenance day. Lynn did some shopping and the laundry, and I cleaned the bilges and (hopefully) repaired a leak in a hose. Livin’ the Glamorous Life, y’all!
Forty-eight hours of gale-force winds and rain on Sat and Sun were more than enough. Although we were tied securely to the dock, the boat was pitching and rolling constantly, tugging at its lines. It looked like a steer at a rodeo. By the end of the wind event, I was feeling quite uncomfortable! Cabin Fever of the marine variety. However, Lynn said it felt like being in a cradle. What a gal!
During the final night, the wind clocked 180 degrees, and I had to get up twice during the night to adjust the lines, because the boat was hitting the dock, not our fenders.
At 30 mph, the palm trees really blow. Can’t imagine how this would be in a Hurricane at 185!
Yesterday, in contrast, was calm and sunny, so we took advantage of the opportunity to go kayaking and paddle boarding. We have a beautiful beach here that stays shallow for quite a way out. Lots of fun with Guinness on the bow.
Today is sunny and breezy; it’s warm in the sun and cool in the shade. Very nice. As usual, we are struggling with Internet connectivity. I am trying to pay some tax bills and it is quite frustrating. Next time I am buying one of Elon’s Starlink units.
After a beautiful trip yesterday in the green/turquoise/blue waters, today is a very gray day. The water is gray, the docks are gray, the sky is gray, and I’m sitting here across from a cute guy with gray hair and a gray shirt and gray socks. Get the picture?
The wind is howling through the rigging of the other boats and outside the marina, there are pretty big white caps, but it’s calm here. It’s been raining on and off so we’re pinned here at the dock and thought we could do something productive – like our taxes. But the internet stinks. So procrastination takes over.
Instead we are reading on our kindles, playing games on the iPads, and just generally being lazy. Rod just cleared a FreeCell game in less than a minute!
Even Guinness has hardly moved. Yesterday he jumped off the boat and took off running into the resort – leaping and barking. A few minutes later he came back with Jacks, our dog boat neighbor from Green Turtle quickly followed by Jacks’ owner, a lovely couple we spent time with there. How does he sense this? It’s really amazing.
We have two more weeks here at Marsh Harbour and a few things we still want to do before leaving. Most of them revolve around restaurants, but I think Rod wants to get in some snorkeling and I would like to try kayaking.
We hope everyone at home is safe and staying warm.
Yesterday, we decided to take a day trip to Little Harbour, about one hour south of our marina. It’s a well-loved spot with a very unusual history: In 1952, Randolph Johnston, a Smith College professor, sailed here with his family in search of escape from the rush of civilization. In true Swiss Family Robinson fashion, the family lived in caves, built thatched huts, and eventually constructed a foundry for Randolph’s work. Johnston died in 1992, having spent the last 40 years of his life pursuing his dream of living free to sculpt in an unspoiled natural environment.
Believed to be one of the caves Johnston lived in
Lynn was immediately smitten with the picturesque harbor, and as soon as we picked up a mooring ball, she exclaimed, “Let’s stay overnight”, which we did!
True to Johnston’s ideals, the island remains “off the grid” in many respects:
– Drinking water comes from rainfall
– Electricity is produced by solar panels
– Access by road is limited
And Randolph Johnston is recognized as one of the great sculptors of the 20th century.
His son Pete carries on Randolph’s tradition, using the 5,000-year-old lost wax process to produce bronze sculptures, most of which capture marine wildlife in dramatic poses. The life-size pieces sell for tens of thousands of dollars.
We visited the Foundry, and got a tour of the entire process, which is quite time-intensive. And we had lunch and dinner in Pete’s Pub, an open-air, sand-floored masterpiece, and home to their signature rum punch, called “The Blaster” in honor of the Foundry. (Do you think four apiece was too many?)
The food was fabulous: I had a ginger-spiced ahi tuna gyro. Decorated with a thousand t-shirts, (found an old Eagles t-shirt – go Birds!) and populated by locals and tourists, along with all their dogs, it is arguably the best little bar in the world!
And a few short steps from the bar is a walkway that takes you to spectacular views of the ocean and breaking waves.
The timing worked out perfectly: we made it over the sand bar into the deep anchorage of Little Harbour as we arrived and left. High tide came exactly at mid-day.
Now, we are safely home at Abaco Beach Resort. there are Gale Warnings for tonight – 30-knot winds for 36 hours, so we are grateful to be in a protected marina..
As you know if you follow our blog, we are presently berthed at Marsh Harbor, on Great Abaco Cay.
Marsh Harbor is primarily a working-class town, providing many commercial services (restaurants, grocery stores, medical clinic, nail salon, marine hardware, etc. And several prominent marinas, of which ours is the nicest.
Most of the homes here are modest, owner-occupied. Many built in the 1960’s or even 1950’s. Many of them uninsured. Some have simply been abandoned.
The ”word” on Marsh Harbour is that it has been slow to rebuild. First came the utter destruction from Hurricane Dorian in 2019. Then a year of Covid delayed everything further.
Several days ago, I had an opportunity to speak with our cab driver about his experience. He had just finished building his home in July of 2019. Dorian hit on September 1st. When the roof tiles started lifting off his home, he and his wife took refuge in their car. Cyclonic winds kept repeatedly lifting the car and dropping it, but they survived. Their house did not. They were uninsured.
We mentioned in an earlier post that we had spoken with Michael Albury, of the Albury family from Man O’ War Cay. He’s the one who explained to us, “What do you have to do first in a recovery here? Rebuild the commercial docks. Because without the docks, we can’t get the building supplies we need: wood, cement, etc. It all comes from off-island.”
Nevertheless, we have been VERY impressed with the rebuilding that has been accomplished since then in Marsh Harbour. And our marina is certainly gorgeous. Here’s a drone shot…you can see the marina complex on the right and the hotel and the gorgeous beach on the left. The views from the hotel lobby are breathtaking.
Here’s a “building” right next to our resort
Yesterday, we visited Elbow Cay, where the rebuilding has proceeded at a faster pace than in Marsh Harbour. Elbow Cay is the closest island to Marsh Harbour – just six miles across the Sea of Abaco – a half-hour trip by boat. The island is about six miles long and quite narrow: at some points you can enjoy a view of both the Atlantic Ocean and the Sea of Abaco.
The primary port on Elbow Cay is Hope Town – towards the northern tip. It’s a pretty little harbor, watched over by a picturesque red-and-white-striped lighthouse. This is the only remaining manned lighthouse the Bahamas. It still uses a kerosene light, and the mechanism must be hand-wound daily. The harbor itself is protected on all sides and surrounded by pretty little cottages and houses.
We sailed into the harbor yesterday morning and rented a golf cart for a tour of the island. The farther south we travelled, the more impressive the homes became. Many of these houses are not 100% owner-occupied. They are investment properties, or second homes (or third or fourth). There is a lot more money in Elbow Cay, (and I’ll bet a lot more insurance coverage), and the recovery has been faster.
We rode our golf cart all the way to the southern terminus of the island to visit a well-known sandbar called Tahiti Beach. We timed our visit for low tide, because the sandbar extends almost a half mile at low tide.
The sand bar was spectacular, as we expected. What we didn’t expect was the dramatic scenery. The tide began to come in between Elbow Cay and Tilloo Cay – the next Cay south. They are separated by a channel, or “Cut” just a few hundred feet across, and the tips of both islands are defined by rocky promontories.
The tidal current was a visible force of nature, and the waves on the Atlantic side of the cut were crashing into the rocks, showering spray 30’ in the air.
Hard to see the waves crashing over these rocky outcroppings.
On the way back to Hope Town, we passed a MASSIVE marina being totally rebuilt from the ground up (or water up). Pilings being driven, cement being poured. Dozens of laborers.
A little farther down the road, we pulled into the parking lot of the Abaco Inn, poised on an oceanfront bluff. I had a duck confit club sandwich (yes, you read that right) with a Kalik, one the local Bahamian beers. YUMMY.
From our little hightop table, on the top of the highest bluff on the island, we could see behind us all the way back across the Sea of Abaco to our resort. But the view in front of us was truly spectacular: huge swells coming in off the Atlantic, breaking all along the reefs that guard the beaches. And the beaches run off to the south as far as one can see.
I have travelled extensively (Cape Cod, Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, Brazil) and I don’t recall a more spectacular oceanfront scene.
As you can imagine, rebuilding a nation take a LOT of skilled labor. This fellow is what’s called a “mortar forker”.
TTFN
PS: Sunday was a great day for Eagles’ fans. Here’s Rod with his special hat, drinking “green” mojitos in 78 degree weather. GO BIRDS!
So, let me tell you about the beeping boat. The word “beep” as used here is an actual beep, not a substitute for a different four letter word.
Sometimes beeps are good things. When we are underway and nearing a waypoint where we must change course, the plotter beeps so you acknowledge and approve the new direction.
Beeps can also be a good thing if the batteries need to be recharged. If we’re not on shore power, Rod will occasionally run the generator to recharge them, allowing us to stay comfortable and be able to make coffee, use the hair dryer or curling iron, or cook dinner.
And then there’s the fridge. I swear it’s haunted. We get an error code and we know there’s a sensor that needs to be replaced and the part is ordered and will be waiting for us in Florida. But this thing has been beeping for four days….and mostly just at night. The manual tells us how to stop it, and that seems to work pretty well during the day. But if we reset it at night, it only stops beeping for about ten minutes and then starts up again.
The “beeping” fridge – looks cute but it’s haunted!
And the craziest part of all this beeping is that Rod doesn’t hear any of it. Nothing, nada, not a single stinking beep. The beeps are just beyond his range of hearing. So while he is sleeping soundly, I am awake listening to the beeping fridge. I’ve had about six hours sleep in the last three days. Stay tuned. Things could get ugly.
Rod & Guinness' Amazing Adventures 