As another gorgeous sunrise materialized around us, we were soon ready to pull anchor and cross over to the Exumas. Following eight sailboats through the Porgee Rocks we were soon traversing the Yellow Bank. The Bank was a relatively shallow expanse of water about 30 miles wide stretching to Northern Exuma and was a land mine of potentially destructive coral heads. We had timed the crossing perfectly as the sun was high in the sky aiding us visually and I stood post on the bow pulpit scanning the waters for any hazards. We anchored off Allen Cay by early afternoon and were excited to enjoy the tranquil beauty for the rest of the day. After scanning for sharks, we jumped into the refreshing crystal blue water to cool off. The current was extremely strong through the Cay so I held onto a rope tied to the back of the boat to avoid being swept away as the Captain grabbed his flippers and swam around.
Once Iguana Beach was clear of all the tour boats, we jumped in Baby Belle with our bag of grapes setting off to feed the inhabitants scurrying around the sand. At first the iguanas were timid and inched closer to our outstretched sticks topped off with the grapes very slowly. But, once the first animal scored his treat, they all came fast and furious. There had to be 50 iguanas at one point on the beach trying to creep up on us and snag the grapes. It was a little unnerving and exhilarating at the same time watching them suddenly jump for the stick and then quickly waddle away with the grape clasped tightly in their jaws. The bag of grapes was devoured before we knew it so we took our leave back to the boat before there was a mutiny. Watching from the water, the iguanas were soon back to lounging under the cover of the palm trees.
That night was crystal clear and we opened a bottle of wine to relax on the bow and marvel at the sky illuminated with thousands and thousands of stars. Once the current shifted, the water rocked us a little uncomfortably but not unbearably for the rest of the night. We were starting to get used to the tide and current shifts and now plan our anchorages accordingly as to avoid more sleepless nights.
Continuing further South the next day, we decided to stop at Norman’s Cay. The drug cartel had used the island as its headquarters and for drug smuggling into the US in the late 70’s and early 80’s…or so the story goes. Duane was anxious to snorkel the sunken plane wreck in the shallow Norman’s Cay cut. There was speculation that the plane had been owned by reputed drug lord, Pablo Escobar, and crashed when overloaded with kilos of cocaine, but, according to locals, the background of the crash was less spectacular and scandalous— just a drunk pilot misjudging the runway. Either way, we took Baby Belle to the area to snorkel the mangled metal and swim among the tropical fish that called it their home.
On the way back to the anchorage, we explored some of the lush mangroves and stopped by the deserted beach bar. Told the bar opened at 5pm, we patiently waited…but when no one arrived by 5:30, we left. Island time for sure!
Shroud Cay was only a few miles away and was our next destination. Shroud was an uninhabited island and part of the Exuma Land and Sea Park. The 176 square mile park was established to preserve and maintain the delicate ecological balance of marine life in the Bahamas. Being a “no take zone,” fishing, conching and even gathering shells is prohibited.
Along the trip we happened upon mega yacht after mega yacht trolling through the pristine waters. Shroud was breathtaking …surrounded by sand bores and prominent rock formations making for an unforgettable landscape. Baby Belle was getting a workout these days and, starting her up, we headed off to explore the nature preserve and marine nursery surrounded by mangroves and littered with giant sea turtles frolicking in the shallow waters. At the end of the winding creek, we pulled the dinghy onto a beautiful white sand beach. The ocean crashed on the shore and we swam out to the sandbar to absorb the full effect of the unparalleled beauty of the turquoise waters.
After a refreshing swim, we hiked up the hillside to Camp Driftwood. The area was nothing more than a clearing from where you were able to view the vast expanse of the ocean from one side and the blue waters of the Bank on the other. It was a hot day and not wanting to get attacked by mosquitoes, we quickly descended back to the sand for a few more minutes in the water before we headed back along Sanctuary Creek. After lunch, we headed to the fresh water well which was allegedly located on a path on the far side of the creek. GPS in hand, we climbed through the brush and low hanging branches toward the documented spot. Finally seeing the well in the distance, Duane lowered the bucket into the depths and came up with a pail full of orange murky water. It was definitely a disappointment after trekking all the way over there.
The winds were picking up the next day, but we felt that we would be protected on the shallow waters of the Bank from anything extreme. Boy were we wrong. As the winds whipped over 20 knots we were battered and rocked all the way to Warderick Wells, headquarters of the Land and Sea Park. I had prematurely stored my seasick bands once we crossed the Tongue, but I quickly retrieved them as we went through the relentless spin cycle.
Thankful in the warm climate that an unpleasant confrontation with the wayward socks was not going to be a possibility, I almost regularly had to deal with the medley of sunglasses which did not make the morning cut and now ended up strewn about the whole boat after we were tossed about for hours. As do the socks, they too have a comfortable bin to travel in, but never quite make it back inside after the fashion show concludes and they are cast aside for the day.
The Emerald Bay mooring field was the closest in the direction we were heading, so I called ahead for a ball assignment as I had paid for the reservation on the Park’s online website already. Hooking up to the ball without incident, we took the dinghy to check in at the Park office. Once registered, we went to hike up to Boo Boo Hill. It has been a long standing tradition for boaters passing through the island to leave a momento on top of the hill which was the highest point of the Cay as an offering to Neptune and all the sailors lost at sea. I had found a piece of driftwood while we were on Andros Island on which Duane burnt the boat’s name which was going to be our offering. The geography of the area up to the hill was breathtaking. Duane tried his hand at the musical rocks and we skipped stones across the creeks snaking out from the mangroves. While we were enjoying the scenery of the unparalleled terrain shaped by nature from atop the hill and marveling at the thousands of driftwood signs left behind, we realized we had cell service for the first time in days. Checking in with family and friends, we also caught up on the news and didn’t feel so detached from the rest of the world as we obviously were.
We were thoroughly exhausted when we arrived back to the boat just before sunset. It was a glorious day and an even more wonderful evening as the water lapped the side of the boat as we enjoyed some wine in the calm serenity of our island oasis. Over the last few days, we finally felt like we had found the Bahamas we had been searching for.
