29 April 2014

The Extraordinary Adventures of Shambala and Taia in the Jumentos Cays and the Ragged Islands

“What kind of fish is this?”
“It's a parrotfish.”
“Is it edible?”
“No.”
“Fuck.”

I utter that last line of dialogue under my breath, for I'm talking with a six-year-old. This is an endearing boat-kid who obviously has much to teach me about fish and fishing. He's probably sailed more miles than me, to boot. He's 6. I'm 41.

Normally I would ask Paul, the kid's dad, before spearing the fish. But Paul is many meters away, pole-spear in hand, surveying the reef and knowing which of the hundreds of fish we see are good eating. Parrotfish aren't good eating. That's why there's so many of them and they're so easy to spear. I just ended a life with impunity, without guilt, because I thought I'd be putting food on the table. Now I get to live with the guilt and, more importantly, the dead fish gets to do or feel nothing ever again.

We are snorkeling and spear-fishing in a reef just west of Water Cay, in the Jumentos Cays. The sail to Water from Thompson Bay in Long Island took Shambala and Taia eight hours. For the next few days we'll be exploring these uninhabited islands with Shambala. Two boats, two families, many uninhabited islands, beaches, clear water, and plenty of fish to catch and eat.
Young crews of Shambala and Taia
Paul has been teaching me to spear-fish, and this is my second time wielding a pole-spear in a reef. The first time was a few days ago, in Elizabeth Harbour, where we caught nothing (but we swam with a dolphin for a good half hour, which was a much better experience than killing fish whimsically). But now we're in the Jumentos, and because these cays are so isolated and out of the way, they're not heavily fished. There are all sorts of fish living in reefs that have all sorts of corals. And there are barely any other boats around!

After that sour experience with the parrotfish, I make sure to ask Paul what fish is good for eating. He points at a triggerfish and assures me those are good eating. I proceed to spear not one, but two of them. Not too shabby for a n00b! And on the way back to the boat I pick up a few conch.
The first fish I speared (that was edible)
That night we had a feast: triggerfish, hogfish, conch, and grouper. Staci from Shambala did most of the cooking. The sea is plentiful and can give these two families all the protein we need.
Buena Vista Cay
From Water Cay we sailed to Flamingo Cay. While spear-fishing in Flamingo I realized that around here we can easily become somebody else's dinner. As we swam around in the biggest finger coral reef I've ever seen, we saw a few barracuda and two bull sharks. Barracuda make me uneasy, but I'm slowly getting used to them being around. Apparently they only attack if they feel threatened. A small bull shark that swims by can also be safely ignored. But a big one, maybe bigger than a grown man, falls under the category of “let's-get-the-fuck-out-of-here.” We saw one such bull shark. Thus I came to the realization that spear-fishing can put food on the table, but I'm competing for food with local predators that are at the top of the food chain.
Taia, Shambala, and their crews in Buena Vista Cay
In Raccoon Cay Paul and I went spear-fishing again. After a couple of hours in the water, we came back with a school master and two glasseye snappers. I got a chance to improve my fish-cleaning skills using the school master as the subject of my butchery. Then Paul taught me how to gill and gut one of the glasseyes. We were doing this at the beach with water up to our ankles. While Paul expertly worked on the first glasseye, I decided to rinse off a knife and a cutting board. That wasn't a smart move on my part.

Suddenly, Paul yelped and jumped out of the water. Not knowing what was going on, I looked back and saw a shark not 2 meters away from where Paul was standing. I proceeded to unceremoniously get out of the water, as fast as my legs would take me. The shark had smelled the small amount of fish blood I'd just rinsed. And here I was thinking that I was very clever for dumping a fish carcass and some discarded pieces of fish in a bucket rather than in the water. What hungry creature would smell that tiny amount of blood I'd just rinsed off?

Sharks. Bull sharks. The kind of shark that might have gone for a human ankle thinking that was the source of the blood. Fortunately we both got out of the water before the first shark helped himself.

We ended up spending a good 20 minutes looking at the sharks. And we gave them both glasseye snappers, just to be able to see them thrash in a shallow 30 cm of water. The Shambala and Taia crews were enthralled by these spectacular creatures. The kids ran out of words to describe the awesomeness of the moment, so they came up with a single word that describes it perfectly, a word that is better than awesome: extraordinary. It was extraordinary to see the two sharks eat every chunk of fish we threw in the water.
Shambala and Taia under different sail combinations
As Shambala and Taia continue their trek south, through the Jumentos and the Ragged Islands, both crews share daily activities and end each day with a feast of ocean protein. The adults chat in the cockpit while the kids play in the cabin. All eight of us are having a great time (and a lot of freshly caught fish!).

We are now anchored in Hog Cay, a mere 3 miles from Duncan Town, the only settlement in this group of islands. According to our guide, the settlement's population is a whopping 100. Soon we'll start heading back north, towards George Town, while Shambala goes north west, towards Florida.


It's been an incredible few days; postcard material for those who love to cruise in areas that offer nothing but wilderness. The best part has been to share the experience with Shambala. Paul and Staci, as well as their two wonderful children, have made the exploration of this deserted paradise that much more enjoyable, that much more interesting. To them I say thanks!

20 April 2014

George Town

George Town is known as the cruisers' paradise. Up to 300 boats can be anchored in Elizabeth Harbour during the winter and early spring. Some people like it so much they just stay here all the time.
We got there late in the season and therefore only saw about 100 boats. It looked like a small lighted city from the distance at sunset.

Elizabeth Harbour with "only" 100 anchored boats.

The following day, a Sunday, we decided to check out the town. We got there at noon, hoping to find a nice and cheap restaurant but everything was closed. So we quickly changed destinations and decided to go to the beach. The popular Volleyball Beach is very nice. Not only do people play volleyball but there's also a nice pub/restaurant. There's also a place that sells conch salad and the remains of the conch are fed to sting rays that are so used to being surrounded by humans that they don't mind being there and being touched. We saw up to 5 of them and played with them for a while. Camila was really excited about this!

Cami touching one of the sting rays.

Walk to the monument (at the top of the hill). The monument is not very nice but the view up there is beautiful.


Kids from Perry, Shambala and Taia.
Marshmallows roasting at the beach.

Being there late, we missed pretty much all the other family boats. But we met the family living aboard Perry and re-united with Shambala, whom we had last seen in Vero Beach, Florida. These two families travel with two kids the same age as ours. As a result, the next few days were filled with kids activities: sand tobogganing, strolls up to the Monument, playing on the beach, playdates and even a bonfire!

I have to say that the city itself was a bit of a disappointment for me. I was expecting a nice and colorful city, similar to Hope Town, in the Abacos. But George Town is not as well kept as Hope Town. The area with the markets and the banks is not so bad, but if you walk a bit beyond that you start to see something that has become common on our strolls through different towns in the Bahamas: stalled construction sites. Lots of them.

But the natural scenery is worth an extended visit. And so is the opportunity to spend time with other cruising families.


Next in our travels are the Jumentos and the Ragged Islands. Looking forward to that.

07 April 2014

Exuma Dreamin' (on Such a Winter's Day)

We had been told that the Exumas are beautiful, with more bountiful reefs, and water so clear you might ask yourself whether you are flying instead of sailing. It's been a week since we arrived in the Exumas, and the more time we spend here, the farther south we go, the more proof we find that these Bahamian islands are indeed beautiful. And we ain't seen nothing yet!
Exuma Dreamin'
Our first Exuma landfall was in Leaf Cay, the cay immediately to the east of the better known Allens Cay. This cluster of cays, Allens being the biggest of the cluster, is famed for the iguanas that inhabit the islands. The iguanas, far from being afraid or even shy, come out to the beach as soon as they see boats approaching. They want food, which is easier to acquire from the hands of uneducated human visitors than from the brush inside the island. It's unfortunate that people either don't read or ignore the signs that specifically state that iguanas should not be fed. These iguanas aren't large; the biggest we saw couldn't be more than 90 cm from head to tail. Some of them are fat, though, and their gait appears tired as they drag their inflated bellies over the sand.
Iguanas on the beach (the two on the left, wearing human clothing, are the most sophisticated of the lot)
Feed me or get off my beach!
From Allens we did a short 14-mile hop to Normans Cay, where we elegantly ran aground on the sandbar while trying to find a good anchoring spot, as close to the cay as possible. Fortunately we've learned to move around these shallow cruising grounds on a rising tide, so the moon made sure Taia didn't remain aground for long, just long enough to cause mild irritation of the nautical ego; nature's reminder that we should always remain humble. Less than 2 hours later we were safely anchored in front of Normans Cay.

Back in the 80's, Normans Cay was controlled by Colombian drug dealer Carlos Lehder. One of his planes, I believe a DC-3, had some trouble approaching the airstrip and the pilot was instructed to ditch the plane in the water. It's not clear whether the plane was carrying coke for later distribution in the US or sod for good Carlos's Bahamian backyard (and I'm not being facetious here, we've heard both stories from different people). Regardless of the plane's cargo, it crash-landed in the shallow waters just south and east of the cay. The upside for us, 30 or so years later, is that Gaia took over the crash site and it's become a great snorkeling spot. We dinghied over at slack low water and had the place all to ourselves.
Aisle or window?
Mace Windu: I've had it with these motherfuckin' sharks on this motherfuckin' plane!
With a bit of a coke and sod aftertaste, we went back to Taia and got her ready for a 25-mile sail to Warderick Wells, the cay that houses the Exuma Land and Sea Park headquarters. This Bahamian national park is littered with cays, rocks, coral reefs, all of them surrounded by the clearest water we've ever seen.

In Warderick Wells we hiked up to Boo Boo Hill, where cruisers are allowed to add a piece of driftwood with their boat's name to a pile that's been accumulating for years. Boo Boo Hill takes its name from local lore about a ship that sank in the area a few centuries ago (I'm not sure exactly when the boat sank and my internet connection is barely functional, so I can't look it up). The boat sank and every soul aboard it drowned. It is said that the ghosts of the drowned roam the island around the hill, making the traditional “boo” sound with which ghosts like to scare and startle us.
The ghosts of Boo Boo Hill
On another hike we did in Warderick Wells we saw the ruins of a loyalist settlement. The ruins must be from the 18th century. As we walked through the ruins, we wondered at the criteria these people used to select a place to settle. The island is a pile of sand and rock and is in an area in which rainfall is limited to a few millimetres a year. There are mangroves and a few other trees and shrubs. Oh, and the “wells” part of the name doesn't mean “water wells.” It's not surprising that their settlement ended up in ruins. Choice of place must have been quite limited for those people.
Ruins on Warderick Wells
As interesting as Warderick Wells was, the anchorage wasn't very comfortable and we decided to keep moving south but without leaving the national park. We aimed the bow at Bell Island, in the southern edge of the park. There we found the prettiest, most impressive anchorage and surroundings we've seen in the Bahamas. Not only that, but every other boat was moored or anchored in the mooring field in front of Cambridge Cay, about a mile south of our anchorage. We had the place to ourselves! And we were anchored a mere 200 meters from an incredible reef. This reef has all types of corals, growing like columns sticking up from the sandy bottom 6 meters below the surface. We snorkeled this place several times throughout the 2 days and nights we spent there. Unfortunately, and most ironically, our underwater camera succumbed to a flooded housing and we can no longer take underwater pictures. It doesn't matter, though. This place has to be experienced personally.
The good ship Taia in Pasture Cay, Exuma Land and Sea Park (the island in the back belongs to Johnny Depp - we did not see him)
We encountered two stingrays and two eagle rays. One of the eagle rays, sporting a tail that must have been 2 meters long, glided pleasantly right underneath me. It was a magic encounter with a magnificent creature of the sea.

The customary cold front was approaching and we decided to await it in the Big Majors Spot – Staniel Cay area. A big plus about this place is that we got to spend a wonderful afternoon and evening with Hold Fast, whom we hadn't seen in two months (last time we saw them was in Man-O-War, Abaco). Hold Fast sailed away to Eleuthera the morning after.

Myron and Dena showed us Thunderball Grotto, a grotto made famous by a 007 movie starring Sean Connery. We snorkeled around the grotto at high tide. I submerged a few feet to enter the grotto under water. Inside the grotto is a dome 8 meters high and 10 meters in diameter; once I swam through the hole underwater I could come above the surface to breath and be awestruck by the natural structure. This is another place that begs to be experienced in person. There's a reef all around the small island and the openings to enter the grotto are part of the reef. There are 2 or 3 holes in the roof and some people dive through the holes and into the water in the grotto. I'm hoping to try that out tomorrow at high tide, when the water in the grotto is enough to dampen the fall.

After snorkeling Thunderball Grotto we went to Pigs Beach. Get this: Pigs Beach is a beach that has pigs. These pigs are so used to humans feeding them, that they actually race to the water every time they see a boat approaching. They squeal angrily demanding food and drink. They're not wild, though, so we were happy to comply and gave them some potatoes and fresh water. (I can't believe we gave some of our precious fresh water to a bunch of angry pigs!)
Noooo! That pig is drinking my fresh water!
Get away from the dinghy, pig!
The piggy in the baseball hat looks hungry
The Exumas are fulfilling and surpassing our expectations. The water is crystal clear, the marine life is abundant and colourful, the snorkeling is beyond compare. This is cruising. This is not a dream, this is real.