The Crossing and the Northern Abacos

 

Our destination across the Gulf is the turquoise waters of the Bahamas.

This shows our route from West
Palm to Little Grand Turtle.  This
app also highlights our speed.
White is over 20 mph.  The colored
sections are where we slowed down.

Multiple weather, wind and wave forecasts all point to Thursday, 3/17, being a good day to cross the Gulf.  We wanted that, particularly for Molly’s and Tory’s comfort, and also given that we were picking a 100 nautical-mile route to Little Grand Cay, one of the northernmost islands of the Abacos. 

Many boats exit the Inlet with us.

We leave Florida’s Lake Worth Inlet around 9 am and are soon cruising at 20 knots on a compass course across the Gulf to famous Memory Rock.  It is choppy, but not uncomfortable.  In a few miles depths increase beyond the 1000-foot range of our depth sounder, and the water temperature increases 1.5 degrees, indicating that we are now in the Gulf Stream.

Slower vessels are significantly impacted by the 2-4 knot northerly flow of the Gulf Stream, but we go fast enough to maintain our compass course without much, if any correction.  For the first 2 hours the wind and waves are as forecast, 15 knots from the SE and 3-foot waves off our stern quarter.  Then we see the dark clouds ahead indicating that the squall line is much more northerly than forecast.  Soon the winds and waves are from the west, right off our nose, and wave height increases first to 4 feet, then 5 and an occasional 6. 

We had no idea what Memory Rock looked like.  It is the
only visible landmark for 40-50 miles in all directions.

Tory is not finding a comfortable position anywhere, and throws up a little on the floor.  After cleaning it up, Molly moves back to the sofa, an indication of her discomfort.  Our speed is now down to 12 knots, and after two more uncomfortable hours we finally cross the Gulf and reach Memory Rock on the Little Bahamian Bank, where depths are typically around 10-20 feet.   The large swells reside, and while still very choppy we are once again able to increase speed toward our destination.

Conditions continue to improve and before long Molly is back in her co-pilot seat.  Around 3 pm we can see our destination ahead.  Soon we are in the protected harbor and docked at Rosie’s Place in Little

We docked at Rosie's Place after our 100 nautical mile crossing.

Grand Cay.  Molly has to stay on the boat while Tory and I (as the boat captain) walk through the quaint Bahamian town to the Customs Office.  The check-in process goes smoothly, and we have our 3-month cruising permit.

Residents of Little Grand Cay returning from work at the
resort on nearby Walker's Cay.  Molly is in the foreground.

We always prefer docking in local communities rather than the fancier resorts, and Little Grand Cay fits the bill perfectly.  This is a Bahamian community of few whites.   The houses are a mixture of quaint, brightly-painted cottages and other dwellings still showing the from Dorian, the 2019 hurrican that devastated the Abacos and Grand Bahamas.

We had a great dinner at Rosie's.

Everyone is very friendly.  Oliver greets us at the dock.  Jonathan is able to figure out how to get around our locked Verizon phone to use a Bahamian SIM card and also point us to a nice shower in one of the little nearby cottages.  Raquel serves us a great meal of cracked conch and fried lobster.   We thank Jonathan with a beer, and he tells us he is the mechanic and deckhand for the private speedboat ferry that races the 90-minutes to Freeport, Grand Bahamas, a few times per week ($130 round trip).   Most island residents go at least once per month for grocery shopping.

Getting the anchors ready.

The next day an older gentleman tries to tell us that the best way to find the fuel dock is for him to go stand on it and wait for us.  After fill-up, we cruise out of the harbor to our nearby, next destination, Sand Cay, next to Double-Breasted Cay.  This proves to be one of the most beautiful anchorages in the Bahamas, and a great place to unwind on flexible Bahamian time.  The pictures tell the story.

Where to anchor in these
beautiful waters?

Salty Paws off Sand Cay,
anchored Bahamian style.

As there are strong tidal currents in the anchorage, we anchor Bahamian style, which is basically two anchors off the bow, but in opposite directions.  One anchor holds the boat on the incoming tide, and the other on the outgoing.   There is only one other boat near us, Leeway.  We meet Diane and Kevin on Sand Cay for cocktails on our 2^nd afternoon.  They are from Vancouver, and the majority of sailors in the Bahamas  seem to be from Canada.  They are waiting for a weather window to cross back to Florida, where they keep their boat, after spending 4 months in the Abacos.

Going ashore on Sand Cay.

Tory and I walked the white sands exposed at low tide.

The sailing catamaran Leeway was our only neighbor.

Tory at the opening I cut
through the mangroves.

The boats anchored off Carters were all
seemingly abandoned.

The next day we depart for the 25-mile cruise to Carters Cay with its deserted US missile tracking base.  Upon arrival, however, it is clear that this is may not be as inviting as the book suggested.  Abandoned boats dot the anchorage, although they might be used by Bahamians for sleeping when fishing in the area.  A short distance away is Hogstye Harbour, a hurricane hole that only a shallow draft vessel like Salty Paws can enter.  This proofed to be a very comfortable anchorage, but the shoreline is only tangled mangroves.  Fortunately, I was able to hack out one short path to a rocky clearing for Tory’s benefit.

The deserted beach was on a small cay where the dock
and the house had been destroyed by Dorian.

Pulling the dinghy through
the shallow waters.

The nearest beach access was a mile away through shallow waters.  We went there twice, once by kayak and once by dinghy, and Tory had the time of her life, chasing her ball into the water and digging holes in the sand.  On both trips I had to pull our boat through the shallow waters.  I welcomed the exercise, but wasn't prepared for the 5-ft shark that swam by me! 

We activated our anchor alarm on our chartplotter, and
tracked our boat movement.  The black dots reflect our boat
position through the night and indicate that the anchor held
firm in the changing winds and tides.

After two nights there we continued our trek southeast another 25 miles to Allans/Pensacola Cay, now combined as one large cay because of a past hurricane.  Because Salty Paws draws only 2 feet or so, we almost always go inside of all the boats in any anchorage.  Here, however, the bottom is mostly marl, rock-hard dead coral with little sand.  We worked for over an hour trying to find a patch of sand where our anchor would grab.  Most observers probably thought that we didn't know what we were doing!   A local boater finally came by in his dinghy and pointed us to one sand patch, which worked but was very far from shore.

The trail across Allen's was
marked with flotsam.

We explored Allans a little and hiked the trail marked with flotsam across the island to the signing trees, decorated with boat signs and other trinkets from the thousands of boats who have visited the cay over the years.

View of the setting sun from one of the beaches on Allans.

At the dock at Donny's Marina in Black Sound, Green Turtle Cay.

Our plan was to spend two days there, but the rolly night at anchor had us off early the next morning to go the Green Turtle Cay where we can dock at Donny’s in Black Sound, explore the local village and ride-out the strong winds forecast for the next couple of days.  Many have told us that this has been the windiest couple of months in years.

We had a great breakfast with
Merydie and Ken at Plymouth
Rock Cafe and Liquors.
Great combo!

Greeting us at the dock were our friends Ken and Merydie, whom we met in the Exumas five years ago.  They keep their boat here permanently and fly here from Nova Scotia for 4-5 months each winter. It has been great having them show us around Green Turtle and introduce us to the many friends that they have made over the years.

Salty Paws Travels 2,500 Miles, Mostly on Land

Salty Paws was last in the Bahamas in March 2020 when COVID hit.

We are now a day away from our expected Thursday (3/17) crossing from the Florida to the Bahamas.  The conditions look excellent with a forecast of light winds and wave height of 2-3 feet with a 10 second period (i.e., time between waves).  This will be our third crossing from Florida.  The water was glass-like in our first crossing but not the most pleasant in our second.  I need to plan on Molly being nervous, particularly in the time leading up to actual crossing, which will, I hope, confirm our decision that it is the right to time to cross.

Depending upon the conditions we find based upon Molly’s standards, we could turn back or decide to take the shortest crossing of 55 nautical miles to West End, Grand Bahamas, or in smooth water speed the full 100 or so nautical miles to Grand Cay, a great starting point to explore the Abacos.  Readers can check on our progress, or lack thereof, by visiting inreachlink.com/AF2FSBB.  I am still refreshing my use of our Garmin InReach that sends and receives satellite signals, and is supposed to update our location every 10 minutes, assuming I have it on. 

Granddaughter Charlotte (on right)
and friend helped show off the fender
board that I made.

Leaving Georgetown on 2/27.

It is hard to believe that we left Maine over two weeks ago with snow on the ground and a temperature of 15 degrees.  The trip down to Florida covered 2000 miles, visits to friends and family along the way, and a 4-day stay with our granddaughter and family outside of Atlanta.  There I got the boat ready for use as an RV for two nights, and we finally splashed in the water in Daytona Beach, where a fellow Rosborough boat owner offered to store our truck and trailer until our May return. 

Molly at the helm in the ICW.

Sign in Titusville Park.

Over the last several days we have cruised down the Intracoastal Waterway with stops in New Smyrna, Titusville, Micco and Nettles Island.  It is great to see the pelicans again, and a small alligator briefly blocked our passage out of one marina.  We were untouched by one storm that created havoc and freezing temperatures in northeast Florida.  It got down to 44 degrees in Micco, but we were quite comfortable on the boat.

On the Cross Bronx Expressway.  We
will take a different route on our return.

We shared many great meals and laughs along the way, and our dog, Tory, has been a loveable hit everywhere.  Still, there have been multiple challenges in our travels.  We went through all the major metropolitan areas coming south because of our stopping points.  Our bridge clearance height is roughly 12 feet 8 inches and imagine our surprise when one of the Cross Bronx Highway bridges was 12 feet 8 ½ inches on the sides and 12 feet 10 inches in the middle.  I held my breath as we went under in the middle lane.

Another challenge was driving the 7 miles from my sister-in-law Nora’s house in Silver Spring to my cousin Paul’s house in Bethesda.  We made the mistake of not yet having a trucker’s travel app.  Google directed us on roads with travel lanes narrower than the trailer and overhanging trees around the height of our rig.  Then we encountered residential streets with steep hills and parked vehicles making passage nearly impossible.  Later I dealt with a severed brake line on the boat trailer and a refrigerator that wouldn’t run off the boat batteries.  Then, of course, were the separate trips to urgent care facilities for both Molly and me. 

Molly relaxes after her injury at the house of a fellow
Rosborough boat owner.

In Florida we visited a boating acquaintance, who wanted to show us his boat.  Molly started up his 5-foot tall, makeshift stairs to the craft.   She immediately hit her head on a metal cross piece that was head-high.  The force of the hit knocked her backward.  She grabbed for a support, that was only a loose boat hook and twisted off the stairs, falling directly on the hard ground below.  She shrieked in pain from her twisted knee (the one that was operated on last year!) and back.  25 miles down the road we arrived at an urgent care facility, and a nurse came out with a wheelchair.  Two hours later the x-rays proved negative, and we hoped that the muscle relaxant prescription would work its wonders quickly.  It has now been a week, and Molly is much better, but still not 100%.

As to me, I have had a toothache, very mild at first and increasingly painful over the last week.  Then last Friday (3/11) I noticed that my lip was swollen.  There was an urgent care facility 2-miles from the marina we were staying in Micco, and, fortunately, Molly insisted that I pay a visit.   The excellent PA quickly diagnosed me with an infected gum.  I had never heard of such a thing.  I got one shot of antibiotic in my butt, pain pills and a 10-day regimen of penicillin.  In less than 2 days, I stopped the pain meds and was and am feeling great. 

InReach shows our 
boat position off
Nettle Island.

With friends Diane and Sid Cohen on Nettles Island.  

Now we are departing Nettles Island Marina, off Hutchinson Island in Jenson Beach.     In the 1960s the island was entirely made of spoils from the dredging of the nearby Indian River.   The hunk of several acres of sand was purchased by a Michigan RV dealer.  His sales pitch become “Buy an RV from me and get a free week of vacation on your new RV at Nettles Island in Florida.”  He also had the island divided up into RV lots (perhaps, 20 by 60 feet) and began selling them.  [The lots now sell for $150,000 or so!] Soon, most of the lots were sold and occupied by RVs, and, in time, many of the RVs become mobile homes and others new-construction stick homes.  It is one of the most densely populated places that we have seen, but it is all well-cared for and strongly controlled by a very active homeowners association.

Yesterday we got our required negative COVID tests and restocked our refrigerator and stores.

Tory and I raced back to the boat.

  I then spent multiple hours last night completing the required online submissions and payments for Bahamas Customs, and we may finally be ready. 

We are now anchored in Lake Worth, West Palm Beach, and dealt with a tornado warning and a race to be back to the boat before the expected downpour.  Fortunately, neither came.

Bahamas, here we come!

Salty Paws is often the smallest boat in the marina.
We are in the center of this picture,  Do you see us?