Maneuvering around rocks and shifting sand bars, we slowly made our way to Bell Island where we dropped anchor in the pristine turquoise waters to have lunch. Reading somewhere that the island was owned by Johnny Depp, we tried to come up with a plan to go ashore the private island without getting into a real life Pirates of the Caribbean situation. Not wanting to risk the outcome of trespassing, we observed what we could see (which was not much) of the property through our binoculars. Realizing the tide and the current had shifted, we decided to move the boat to O’Brien Cay which was extremely shallow but would provide all around protection from the swells. We were headed to snorkel “The Aquarium” off Soldier Cay not far away. Duane was super excited as we gathered our gear and motored over to the area. We tied Baby Belle off to a mooring ball which was perfectly situated so I didn’t have to expend too much effort swimming through the current and it also kept the dinghy close enough in case I needed a fast escape. What we saw below the water surface could easily rank as one of the greatest wonders of the world in our opinion. Majestic fish of all shapes, sizes and colors surrounded us…even what looked like little baby swordfish darted around. There were sea sponges growing intertwined with boundless coral formations and sea fans in purple and yellow hues were abundant. Nothing I have ever seen before could compare to what was before us and we were lost in the magnificence of it all so much so that I forgot all about the possibility of sharks. Fingers shriveled up like prunes, we reluctantly went back to the boat vowing to return on our way back through the area on the way home. Sad to say, our pictures do not do the marvel any justice. It was a pleasant calm evening and we were soon fast asleep not realizing at first how much the sun and the whole exhilarating experience had taken out of us.
The Cambridge Cay mooring field was full so we drove on out of the park and across the Conch Cut. In less than an hour, we were anchored off Compass Cay and found our way to the famed “Rachel’s Bubble Bath.” Trekking through the low lying area scattered with mangroves and rocks, we soon saw the spray in the distance marking the sight of our destination. The bubble bath was located at the northern end of the Cay just inside the Exuma Sound. When the surf from the ocean surge crashes over the gap in the rocks in the lower part of the formation, a foamy pool encompasses the tidal basin…hence simulating a bubble bath. We waded into the area and waited for the crash over the rocks…when it did come we were enveloped by the swirling foam and thrown back a few feet from the force. It was a great time and very refreshing as we picked our spot again and again to enjoy the warm bath splash over us. The optimal time to experience the full effects is at high tide on a windy day. So, today being mild and our timing on the tide a little off, it wasn’t perfect, but we definitely had an enjoyable afternoon.
Pulling anchor we continued on our way to Staniel Cay to hang out with the world famous swimming pigs. The timing of the tide again hindered us as the boat hit the sandy bottom as we rounded Sampson Cay. Aground, we dropped anchor and swam around waiting about two hours for the tide to rise as tour boats zipped back and forth to various islands loaded with visitors. Once we were on the move again, it wasn’t long before we found ourselves in Big Major’s Spot ready to make our acquaintance with the pigs. Grabbing a big bag of carrots and stale pretzels, we made our way to Pig Beach on Baby Belle. Getting closer I became a little wary as some pigs were the size of ponies and did not look so friendly as they chased down their visitors for food. Warned that the pigs would try and climb into the dinghy, we anchored Baby Belle safety in the distance, or so we thought, and swam toward shore with our treats. The first few minutes were calm as I tossed carrots to my first greeters, but soon it was sheer mayhem. As more pigs emerged onto the beach, they became aggressive and charged at us for more and more food. I began to haphazardly throw carrots in every direction in an effort to stop their approach, but one pig in particular would not settle down and chased me all the way back to the dinghy as I retreated, clawing me with his hooves as he swam. Duane found this hysterical as he took pictures of my terror. Finally able to make it back on shore, I decided to try again and, all was going well, when suddenly a mammoth of a pig with huge tusks grabbed my bag of food and ran off with it. Duane took off in pursuit as did the rest of the bigger pigs, but I was happy for the reprieve and went to pet the piglets. Unsuccessful in retrieving the food or the bag, he returned and, as we took a picture, one pig bit me and another snagged Duane’s bathing suit. Exhausted from constantly fending off the animals, who acted more like wild boars, we tossed the remaining carrots in their direction and swam as fast as we could to Baby Belle. Most were now distracted and torturing unsuspecting tourists just landing on the sand, but the super swimmer pig was in hot pursuit again and I barely escaped. Being late in the day and now high tide, we would not be able to snorkel Thunderball Grotto. Taking a quick ride to the grotto to at least see the underwater cave made famous by James Bond, we added it to our growing list of adventures to tackle on our way back through the Exumas on the way home to the States.
In the morning we went a mere ten miles to Black Point Settlement. It was a calm day so we decided to travel out on the Sound and avoid trying to work our way through the increasingly shallow waters. The winds over the course of the next three days were predicted to be 30 knots shifting to the West and we wanted a good area to hunker down and wait out the weather. Squeezing ourselves in just beyond the docks constructed to accommodate the future fuel station and the local fishing boats, we secured both anchors in the event squalls tore through the area.
Rockside Laundry has been praised by many as the premier laundromat in all of the Bahamas. The owner, Ida, kept the place spotless, ran the business efficiently, and was said to serve the best conch fritters. It’s funny how the idea of doing laundry could bring a smile to my face these days as the waterfront property had a spectacular view of the crystal clear waters. It was surreal to sit out on the deck listening to the waves as the smell of Downy wafted through the air. Not a bad trade off for clean clothes.
Garbage was collected in a trailer by the docks with a suggested donation to the town to be put in the lock box nearby once you threw your bags inside. As for water, an RO water spigot was located on the road toward the laundromat so, once the garbage was disposed of, Duane grabbed our jugs to fill while I tended to the laundry situation. There was an additional donation box as a Thank You payment for the water which benefited the school. Any child passing by on their bike made sure that fact was known to any visitor filling up their water receptacles.
Waiting for Ida to get back from serving the school children lunch and supply me with the tokens to run the washing machines, I loaded up the laundry and met Duane at DeShamon’s for some pizza and ice cold beer. Twenty minutes later, I walked across the street to the laundromat and was greeted by one of the women from the school who Ida sent back so I could begin the wash. Noticing a sign that they offered eight minute showers for $4, I purchased some tokens to surprise the Captain. Since the only hot water we have had as of late has been from the solar showers, this will be a treat. As the laundry was spinning, a small tour boat crammed with 10 twenty somethings from New Jersey pulled into the dock and made a bee line to the pizza restaurant. Duane was soon to be invaded by the drunk fist pumping crew wearing not so appropriate beach attire and I could feel the eye roll now as they interrupted his quiet afternoon.
Being on his third beer when I returned, Duane had befriended one of the Jersey Shore revelers and was not so bothered by the ensuing conversation. Laundry folded, we made our way back to Baby Belle and head to our anchorage to unload the clean clothes and our fresh water onto the boat so we could return for showers. On the walk back to the beach, the cat from the restaurant caught our eye and playfully escorted us back to the dinghy. Over the course of our stay on the island, he was always close under foot and we couldn’t resist giving him some love and attention.
Never a dull moment, we each dropped one of the tokens into the slot and pushed the button but not even a drop of water materialized from the pipes. With no one in the office, we radioed on the VHF requesting help working the contraption. In the end, it would have been nice to know that two tokens were required to start the water pumps. Were we supposed to share the eight minutes? As the woman sent to remedy our situation figured that fact out by adding the additional tokens, she pushed the button and stood in the room as the water came sputtering out and my precious minutes started ticking away. I almost shoved her out the door as I jumped under the hot water to begin my race against time and rinsing the conditioner out of my hair. It was a refreshing, yet stressful shower, but I was thankful none the less. Afterward we went for Happy Hour at Scorpio and had drinks with a sweet couple we met at the bar. Heading back to the boat, the winds had already picked up and it was an extremely wet ride…so much for that eight minute shower to rinse the salt off earlier. I will most assuredly be bailing out Baby Belle in the morning.
We bounced and rocked most of the night so we were ready to get on solid ground in the morning. Trying to board Baby Belle had to be strategically planned as the water was so turbulent throwing her around, we had to practically jump in head first. Arriving at the government dock safe, but sufficiently soggy, we walked to Emerald Sunset Grill for a nice lunch on the deck. It was a gorgeous sunny day and we were completely dry by the time we sat down for our meal. Afterward, we followed the trails to the Sound side of the island to get a view of the monstrous waves crashing onto the beach below and the Blow Hole spouting high in the air.
Lorraine’s Cafe was having a buffet dinner that evening which we had reservations for and, making our way back to the harbor, we stopped next door at her mother’s house for some homemade coconut raisin bread. Momma’s bread was the talk of all the Exumas and the aroma coming from her kitchen as she led us to the selection of breads fresh out of the oven, had my mouth watering. There were plenty of cruisers at the cafe when we arrived. Introducing ourselves, we were invited to dine with a group of sailboaters who had been traveling together for the last few weeks. They were a personable group and shared pictures and stories with us as we reciprocated with tales from our journey. After a great evening, and stuffing ourselves with fresh fish, BBQ chicken, homemade Mac and Cheese pie, tender pork ribs and Bahamian rice, we set out on the laborious task of getting back to the boat. The winds had not subsided and we could see white caps rolling in. Descending the steps from the dock carefully as Duane tried to steady Baby Belle, I sat down, put on my life jacket and readied myself for the wet rough ride across the bay. Wet was an understatement….drenched is a more appropriate word to describe our condition once we arrived home.
The weather had improved significantly by the next day and we were able to get ashore and not require towels to dry ourselves or ring out our clothes. Planning to depart the next morning, we refilled our water jugs, left our donation and collected sea glass along the beach. Duane was obsessed with gathering as much sea glass as possible and proceeded to fill two buckets he secretly brought to shore with us. Some pieces looked like mere broken bottles to me, but he did not discriminate in his collection calling them “unique.”
Before stopping into the Sunset Grill to actually see the sunset, we walked the road through town observing the kids in the playground, women tending to gardens, and eventually came upon a house with a puppy sitting outside. Domino, as we came to know was his name, started to follow us on our walk and, even with our pleading, would not go back home. Ultimately, we had to walk back to his house and knock on the door to alert the owners of his wandering. A woman, who most likely was preparing dinner, appeared at the door with three little children peering from behind her and reassured us not to worry saying Domino will return home shortly when he was hungry. And with that we were on our way with Domino in tow….and sure enough about twenty minutes later, Domino abruptly turned around and ran as fast as his little legs could take him toward home. Sunset that evening from atop the gazebo over the water was spectacular and we were grateful for the time we had spent in Black Point over the last few days.
The next day was calm and, as the sun glistened off the water, we made our way through the Bank. It was a hot day and, with no breeze, we looked forward to anchoring and jumping in the sea of turquoise. Passing by Musha Cay, the 700 acre private island owned by David Copperfield, we marveled at the sprawling ultra-exclusive, $300,000 a week resort estate scattered about the landscape. Dropping the hook in early afternoon a little further in the distance by Rudder Cut Cay, also owned by the magician, we swam around and watched the day pass before us with no urgency to do much more. The next morning we were on a mission to snorkel the life size grand piano and sculpture of the admiring mermaid submerged by the illusionist off the beach of Rudder Cut Cay. Located in 15 feet of water, the stainless steel work of art, was an interesting outing. Duane was able to hold his breath and dive down to sit on the piano bench to get the full effect of the experience. I, on the other hand, enjoyed my view from above, as we have both come to accept my lack of diving skills.
We had been in constant touch with our friends, Molly and Bill, on Salty Paws over the few weeks since we last saw them and, by chance and good luck, we were now only a few miles apart. After exploring a few caves carved out of the rocks after thousands of years of exposure to the elements, we pulled anchor and went to meet up with them for dinner in Prime Cay. Being very shallow and low tide, we were forced to make the short trip out on the Exuma Sound. Needless to say, conditions were far from favorable as over the next hour and a half we rocked, rolled and banged all the way into the Prime Cay cut. By the time we settled down (and gathered stray sunglasses) and they arrived on our boat, I was more than ready to indulge in the Rum punches Molly had whipped up. We had the most enjoyable evening catching up with our old friends which made the decision to make our way through the rough waters worth it. The next morning, they drove by to say farewell as Salty Paws was heading North to cross over to Eleuthera and our ultimate destination was Georgetown on Great Exuma further South.
Our last stop before Georgetown was by the Captain’s request off William Cay near Lee Stocking Island. I needed to provide my bow lookout services this day as the blue waters were increasingly more shallow and I had no desire to travel out on the Sound unless absolutely necessary. Passing Leaf Cay we watched as the tourists feed the Iguanas and we were soon anchored off the white sand of the Twin Beaches. There were about 12 other boats around us and we set both anchors as we often do now as an extra precaution against the sudden changes in the weather and water temperament.
Exploring the Twin Beaches, we made our way to the top of the cliff overlooking a cavernous space where the crashing waves echoed. Arriving back to the shore, we directed Baby Belle further North making a beeline toward the ultimate destination the Captain had been anticipating. Securing her next to two other dinghies, I was relieved we were not the only ones about to wander through the brush to explore an abandoned Marine Research facility. Along the mile and a half hike we came in contact with the other boaters who were on their way back from seeing the dilapidated compound. Though they said it was interesting, being it was now later in the day, we needed to step up the pace as the mosquitoes would soon be out in full force and I did not want to be trying to find our way off the creepy island after dark.
I am sometimes at a loss for words describing the beauty of the world we are newly discovering, but this place the Captain insisted on exploring was the antithesis of all that. Some buildings were left stuck in time as if someone planned to return, but never did, with open books and research manuals littering dusty desks. Broken light fixtures hung from ceilings and walls were crumbling down in almost every structure we entered. Chills ran down my spine when we emerged into what had to be the research lab seeing murky fish tanks and test tubes and chalkboards filled with scientific formulas and notes. Duane was enthralled by the whole idea of what had transpired here years ago and, I should have known, was eyeing anything he saw laying around for its potentially usefulness. Emerging from behind a shed with a piece of tubing which he explained he could use to get the water out of the bilge, I cringed at the idea of what had previously flowed through the encasing. Finally arriving at the end of the line of buildings, we hurried toward the abandoned air strip and through the thick brush leading toward Baby Belle as mosquitoes buzzed around my head. Well, not before the Captain stopped one last time to collect a glass buoy which he said would be the perfect souvenir. Making sure he scrubbed his “treasures” thoroughly before they were allowed on the boat was my only prerequisite.
A nasty squall blew through at 5am and, as it shifted us precariously close to the rocks, we went out into the pouring rain in the dark to reset the second anchor and pull us further away. When I say we, I should say I, as the Captain was directing me from the dry confines of the flybridge as I was being pelted with rain on the bow trying to wrangle the anchor and not be thrown overboard as we bucked up and down. The sun was soon up and the rain subsided, and not being able to get back to sleep, we left around 7am to exit the cut onto the Sound plotting a course to Georgetown. We were excited to see old friends already there and also to welcome Duane’s mom, Jean, and sister, Lisa, who were coming to visit us during part of the two weeks we planned to stay in the town.
