The beautiful sunset and fresh slipper lobster on the southern tip of Long Island had us in love with our magical lives… But that didn’t last long. The wind switched and the boat started rocking, just a little bit though and I was nearly rocked to sleep, weary to the bones from my day of diving.
Then the rocking and rolling got a little worse, then a little worse, then even worse, till finally we were being thrown out of bed!! Why!?! Argh, just want to go to Sleep!!!!
Sleeping was out of the question now though, instead we were running a fire drill around the boat trying to store everything before it crashed to the floor.
It’s said among sailors to always make your plans in pencil for as soon as you’ve got it figured out, your liable to change it, if the weather doesn’t change it for you first. We had planned a longer stay in Crooked Island before heading on to Great Inagua, our staging spot to make it through the windward channel for Cuba’s south coast. But it was through chats with S/V Mars, dismay over the hurricane damage to French Wells, forecasts for the winds, and looking at our timeline that we decided to make a new plan.
We left mayaguana with a 5 knot breeze, a stark contrast from the previous couple weeks. We weaved through 5 miles of shallows and reefs before striding through the break in the barrier reef to the deep blue once more. Mayaguana was great but it was nice to be moving on to explore new islands, next up, The Plana Cays!
With no real wind, we motored to West Plana Cay. The uninhabited Plana Cays are two roughly 5 mile round Cays next to each other and not much else, both are fringed entirely with the whitest, softest sand you’ll ever see. West Plana gave us good protection and tucked in there in 10 ft of water. Alyssa’s eyes lit up at the beaches we had all to ourselves! So it wasn’t long before we were jumping off the bowsprit and swimming to shore. We spent the rest of the day exploring the island, finding shells and since there wasn’t another soul in sight, working on getting rid of those pesky tan lines!
West Plana Cay
The magical day came to an end with a beautiful sunset and we swam back to the boat. Toting a treasure trove of shells in our drycase backpack. We dined on fresh fish from Mayaguana and got ready for the next days sail, a 100 miles to San Salvador!
Sunset on our own island!
The next morning we tidied up the boat as we prepared for a bouncier crossing, winds were 15-25kts out of the east making for some decent seas but just the kind of wind Heritage likes. We picked up anchor around noon, hoisted sail and left the dazzling Plana Cays awaiting their next set of footprints.
With the fresh wind, we put a reef in the mainsail and mizzen sail. (A reef is when you tie the sail down so that the whole sail isn’t deployed, with one reef in the sails we had about 3/4 of the sail up to catch wind) we trimmed the sails for a close reach, about 60-70 degrees from straight upwind, and we started plodding along at 5 kts settling in for the overnight sail. Much to our amazement, the sail went off without a hitch! We had gusts where the wind picked up and lulls where it dropped, it sheared a little bit south on us by the next morning so that we were on a broad reach (about 120 degrees from straight upwind). By then San Salvador had meandered into sight, one moment we’re in 7,000 ft of water and the next we’re pulling in the sails and dropping anchor into 15 ft of crystal clear water in the same spot Christopher Colombus had back in 1492. While certainly not as momentous as discovering the West Indies, we were certainly happy to be there and glad we had a big sail go off without any trouble, hopefully starting to get the hang of this sailing thing.
Well, almost without a hitch… but what’s one little broken winch?
San Salvador is famous for three things, the Colombus landing, its world class diving and Wahoo fishing. Having repeated the first, we set off to check out the other two off the list. The scuba spot wasn’t far as the wall drops off about 1/4 mile offshore from 40 ft to 130 in one hand length and then down to 7000 ft in another hands length, it is epic and one of the most beautiful dives either of us have ever seen. The wall was covered in lively coral as we descended to 80 ft. Reef sharks swam below us, groupers hid in the crevices and it was fun to stare up from 80ft down and see the surface clearly. We started our dive late and got back to the surface just in time to catch the sunset!
The next day was a dead calm day so we decided to make a run to the wahoo grounds. 10 miles to the north, we packed for the day with water and snacks and loaded up the dingy.
The long run brought us to open ocean in our little dingy and I jumped in the mesmerizing blue water. Nothing in sight but my flashers (series of bright fishing lures hung from a buoy) and the tip of my Gatku Polespear. It’s a bit crazy but it’s has been one of my goals to polespear one of these giant pelagic fish. Wahoo are a wary fish and it’s tough enough to get close to them with a giant speargun, to try and get one with a polespear that has 1/3 the range of a gun will be a real challenge. Throw in the fact that wahoo are around some of the sharkiest waters and that the fish I’m trying to spear is nearly as long as the dingy I’m on and you might see why a bit crazy is a bit of an understatement. Never the less, I was drifting towards the ledge in the deep blue and like a ghost, a 4 ft long wahoo appears down by my flashers. I dive down and as I close within 25 ft I see something out of the corner of my eye, another wahoo, and then another!! First drift and I’m in a school of Wahoo! The third is the closest, close enough for me to clearly see the fluorescent blue/purple shimmer through its missile body with white stripes cutting through to the white underbelly, I can see the details of its eyes so I know I’m getting close, I act uninterested, hoping it’s curiosity will carry it a couple feet further. Alas, the wahoo turns even and starts moving further away, I close within 15ft but just out of range of the polespear. Out of breath, I return to the surface. The wahoo still circle somewhat playfully below but not enough to fall for any of my tricks and get close enough, I’m happy though, any day I can see a wahoo is a good one and today was just a scouting mission. I call to Alyssa, “You gotta see this! Absolutely incredible.”
To my surprise she agrees, the wahoo have left now so I take the boat back upcurrent and get set up for another drift. This time with Alyssa right by my side, hanging onto the dingy rope as we both drift in the deep blue. We get to see a solo wahoo on the drift and I’m very happy alyssa gets to see what drives my passion for this crazy Bluewater spearing. Alyssa has enough after that drift and sits the next one out as I set up for a last drift, I’ve run out of time on this “scouting day.”
I’m enjoying the peacefulness of the deep blue on the last drift, awaiting wahoo, when out of nowhere a darting 8 ft oceanic White tip makes a beeline for my flashers! it nearly chomps them but turns at the last second, it eyes me up but thinks better of coming closer about 10 ft away. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen one of these aggressive sharks and it’s muscular body makes a fierce sight. Not wanting to mess around while I’m diving solo, Alyssa brings the boat over and I happily hop in. The shark circles for quite a while and happy to observe from the boat as a couple smaller reef sharks join in to see about all the commotion. That properly concluded my scouting mission, we packed up and headed to a nearby island, uninhabited by anyone except for some nesting frigatebirds, it’s small beach made for the perfect spot to eat our lunch and unwind from the excitement…
The next day Alyssa was flying out to Eleuthera to check out our wedding spot and much needed break from the roll of our boat. The plan was for me to wait in San Salvador for her to return but a quick look at the weather report that morning quelled that idea. A massive westerly cold front was coming in two days and San Salvador with its exposed coastline is the last place you’d want to be. I’m going to have to find a safe harbor and I’m going to have to move the boat myself! Read the next blog to hear about the adventure…
We spent the rest of the day exploring the island, finding shells and since there wasn’t another soul in sight, working on getting rid of those pesky tan lines!
We dined on fresh fish from Mayaguana and got ready for the next days sail, a 100 miles to San Salvador!
By then San Salvador had meandered into sight, one moment we’re in 7,000 ft of water and the next we’re pulling in the sails and dropping anchor into 15 ft of crystal clear water in the same spot Christopher Colombus had back in 1492. While certainly not as momentous as discovering the West Indies, we were certainly happy to be there and glad we had a big sail go off without any trouble, hopefully starting to get the hang of this sailing thing.
That properly concluded my scouting mission, we packed up and headed to a nearby island, uninhabited by anyone except for some nesting frigatebirds, it’s small beach made for the perfect spot to eat our lunch and unwind from the excitement…