Bahamas – The Abacos

This is the summary of the last part of our trip through the Bahamas. We are currently in Florida, and tomorrow we leave the boat and head for Seattle to spend some time with friends and family! (reminder – click on photos for better pictures)

With a little more than two weeks left on our cruising permit, we departed Spanish Wells for a journey through the Abaco Islands. These islands lie furthest to the Bahamian northeast, and we had saved them for last, hoping that by May the frequent winter nor’easter storms would be gone and that the rainy season would be late. We weaved our way out through Gun Point Pass and headed north into a gently rolling Atlantic Ocean. With sails up on a beam reach, we were trying to time our arrival to the slack tide at Little Harbor Cut, fifty miles away.

An eight-hour passage can be a bit monotonous in good settled weather (not complaining!!), and we alternated two-hour watches. Occasionally a sail needed adjusting. We dragged 2 fishing lines but had no action. Then, about halfway across, a little bird flew down the companionway and landed on the windowsill! It flitted around the cabin for a bit, then found its way back out to the cockpit. We figured it was tired and just needed a rest, and it seemed in no hurry to leave. Finally, the snoozing cats realized there was a bird on their boat, and we went into protective mode. It let us hold it, and liked Fred’s arm as a perch. When it hopped under an open hatch and settled on the screen, we let it be. The cats went back to snoozing. The best i.d. we could make was a female or juvenile American Redstart – a common North American warbler that winters in Florida and the tropics. Sadly, when we checked on it awhile later, it had died. Grateful for the visit and general excitement, we surrendered its little body to the sea.

Great Abaco Island is one of the largest in the Bahamas, but there are no sheltered anchorages along the southeast shore until you get to the Sea of Abaco. This shallow sea lies to the east and north sides of the big island and is ringed with barrier islands and reefs which provide protection from the Atlantic. It is host to the more popular Abacos tourist areas and the main town of Marsh Harbor, as well as protected parks and remote cays. In September 2019 Hurricane Dorian spent three days crawling across these islands. The Category 5 storm left massive damage that is still evident, but recovery is on-going and visitors are being welcomed and encouraged to return.

We entered the cut with the rising tide and anchored in the outer harbor with four other boats. Inside Little Harbor it is completely protected, but the entry channel is only six-“ish” feet deep at high tide and we didn’t want to risk a grounding.  Before taking the dinghy into the harbor we decided to take a walk on the small beach near our anchorage. After beaching the dinghy we set an anchor and walked the beach looking for whatever flotsam or jetsam might have washed ashore. Fred turned to check on the dinghy and discovered it had floated away with the rising tide! Fortunately Lisa was able to swim out and catch the trailing painter and retrieve our ride back to Ritual. 

The inner harbor has several private docks, a public dock and small yacht club. There are moorings for rent but most were taken by the catamaran rental fleet. Pete’s Pub and Gallery is the going enterprise here, and we enjoyed a cold drink from the adirondack chairs and marveled at the slew of burgees and t-shirts adorning the walls and rafters. The Gallery was closed, but it hosts a working sculpture foundry which would be cool to visit. There are supposed to be a lot of sea turtles in this harbor, but we did not see any. 

Two days later we wove our way north to the end of Tilloo Cay and anchored near the huge shallow sand bar. At low tide the next day, we walked the long beach, known for its sand dollars, and Lisa finally found one sea biscuit. Being the end of cruising season, maybe it was that picked over! Continuing north toward Hopetown, we followed the channel around a large shallow area and passed south of Marsh Harbor just as a parade of Viking-style fishing yachts was coming in from the ocean for a tournament. We rocked and rolled in their giant wakes and stopped counting after 35 boats. We have come to really disdain this type of boat. They rarely slow down for passing and leave particularly large wakes, and no matter how carefully we stow things below, somehow something still goes flying!

Hopetown Harbor is another totally protected spot, and the entry channel is also shallow with 4.5-5 foot depths at low tide, so timing is everything with our 6 foot draft.  Once inside, depths go to 12 feet, and there are many mooring balls, plus a large marina. We tied to a mooring in front of Captain Jack’s Restaurant and Bar, and took in the view of the giant iconic red and white lighthouse and the myriad of boats in the bay. We planned to spend a few days here to ride out some forecasted big winds. There appears to be a lot of money in Hopetown, and the harbor and little town have recovered beautifully from the hurricane. However, as we walked the road south of town to On Da Beach Bar/Restaurant, there was still evidence of damage.

The Elbow Reef Lighthouse affords an incredible view of the harbor, and it remains the only active light station left in the world, hand-wound by a keeper and fueled by kerosene – all others have been electrified. We climbed to the top to take in the view, marveled at the mechanics, and admired the Fresnel lens, which rests on bearings and a bed of mercury!

Our ”bar-front” mooring afforded quite a bit of entertainment as the Marsh Harbor ferrys and various cruising boats paraded by.  Least appreciated was the Friday night karaoke at Jack’s. What started as tolerable wound its way to those who figured the more they drank, the better they sounded, and by midnight resembled a pack of howling coyotes! Which (perhaps) was appropriate, as we had been treated to an incredible full moon rising, minutes after a beautiful sunset.

After a few days we moved north to Great Guana Cay and anchored outside Fishers Bay. This afforded us access to the new dinghy dock at Grabber’s Beach Bar, and a short walk to Settlement Harbour for provisions. Grabbers, and Nippers Beach Bar on the Atlantic side, are longtime cruiser favorites. Not sure if we mentioned this, but Bahamian food/drink prices are high ($20 burger and fries) at the popular spots! And instead of leading off with the specials, staff usually begins with “today we don’t have…”.

Due to a shallow bar stretching across the Sea of Abaco, continuing north to Green Turtle Cay for us requires sailing south of Whale Cay out into the Atlantic, and returning to the Sea of Abaco through Whale Cay Cut. The Cruiser’s radio net broadcasting from Hopetown included reports from those transiting the cuts between the islands, and conditions were favorable for us. If winds, tides and currents don’t align, the cuts can experience dangerous “rages” with huge waves. Our transit was quite tranquil and Fred reported seeing several rays and large fish from the bow as we passed through.

Another high-tide transit into the channel at Black Sound on Green Turtle Cay got us a mooring at Donny’s Marina. There are good anchorages outside the sound, but because of forecasted thunderstorms and Donny’s great reviews, we opted for the security of more weather protection. It is a short walk from Donny’s to the little town of New Plymouth (circa 1786), or to the gorgeous beach on the Atlantic side of the island. While the marina and town seemed to be fairly recovered from Dorian, we still saw a lot of damage around town. We were tickled to see a sistership tied to the dock, but no one was aboard. Cruisers gather on shore here for happy hour, and this is where we met Gary and Sharlene aboard Aurora, a Beneteau 37. Typically the “6 degrees of separation” kicks in at these gatherings. They owned a canvas shop and sail loft in Charlevoix for years before retiring to Hilton Head, and the mutual acquaintances were fun to discover! Seems we were on the same timeline for returning to the States, so we now had a new buddy boat!

New Plymouth sports several bars and restaurants – we loved Pineapples, which even had a small pool. There is an historic park in the town center honoring the British Loyalists who settled here after the American Revolutionary War. Considered traitors by the patriots, they suffered regular harassment, had their property seized, and were subject to personal attacks – tar and feathering was not uncommon treatment. Many fled to either Canada or the Bahamas to remain under British protection and maintain their livelihoods, many which were dependent on the British Empire and/or their connections to the Anglican Church.

With our permit days ticking down, we accompanied Aurora to Crab Cay and then to Great Sale Cay to await good crossing weather. Sadly we missed time at the wilder out-islands of the Abacos, known for their good snorkeling and wildlife. Great Sale Cay is a gathering spot on the shallow banks for those crossing the Gulf Stream to/from more northern points in Florida. We spent one quiet night there. The bank was calm as we motored west toward the Florida coast the next morning. We lost touch with Aurora since they took a more northerly route to Cape Canaveral, but we wanted to spend time in Vero Beach so we headed to the Fort Pierce inlet. We planned an overnight run across the Gulf Stream, which was uneventful except for the unexpected rolling waves from the north. The wind was not cooperating for use of the monitor self-steering windvane so we hand steered in 2 hour shifts. At 5 am, just before sunrise, we entered the Fort Pierce inlet. Aside from JUST missing a catamaran anchored smack in the middle of the channel with NO lights on (unbelievable), we safely dropped anchor in front of the Harbortown marina. After downing a drink to celebrate and calm down, we hit the sack.

Our next installment begins with Fort Pierce and highlights many (some major) boat projects. For those interested in the “work-a-day and sometime frustrating” world of cruising, stay tuned.

Fair winds, Fred and Lisa