Meeting the Mayor

Safely tucked into Joe’s sound, I set anchor and enjoyed a beer after my adventure. One beer has a way of making me very social. A couple sips in and I had lowered the dingy and headed over to my neighboring sailboat. Moments before, I’d seen them arrive in what seemed a dingy parade. Two dingies going to the other two sailboats, and one headed to a houseboat tucked away in the prettiest spot of a stunning anchorage. I was social but not too ambitious so I went to the closest sailboat. They were French Canadians and they explained in broken English that they had just come from town and that the man in the houseboat had shown them the way between some tricky shallows. We talked a little, I gave them some Mahi. The best line of the night was that they were told anyone going through Joe’s sound cut was either very experienced or crazy… so after drinking to the fact that we were all crazy I bid them adieu and went home to Heritage.

The next morning I had to meet up with Alyssa, if all went as planned, she would fly into Long Island and I’d meet her around ten. I just had to find my way into town and pick out a meeting point a cab driver could find. Not knowing my way, I set off in the dingy but made a call to the houseboat before I left the sound in hopes of some good directions. As I approached on my dingy through the aqua blue water, a voice boomed out good morning. Slowly the shape on the two story houseboat came into focus and I was introduced to Patrick,

“I heard you might know the way into town, my fiancé is flying in and I’ve got to find a spot to meet her, some directions would be great!”

“Say no more” Patrick replied.

Patrick disappears into his houseboat only to emerge a moment later hopping into his dingy, he pulls the motor to life and starts off, “follow me!”

It’s all I can do to throw the motor to full throttle and catch up to the wake Patrick is throwing. He expertly weaves through the shallows he must know like the back of his hand… the water is so clear that in 2 ft of water it appears your motoring through the sandy bottom and 6″ of water looks all the same, so easy enough to leave yourself high and dry hitting bottom. Weaving through the shallows, the water gives way to 5 ft of depth and Patrick slows down.

“See the hill about a mile away, on the right side is a dock you can tie up to, its deep till you get there. About a ten minute walk from there to the MGS store, biggest spot in town, have your girl tell the cabbie to meet you there,”

“Can’t thank you enough, was just hoping for a kick in the right direction, that was way more help than necessary!”

“No worries, as the unofficial mayor of Joe’s sound I consider it my duty and when I heard it was for love, I had no choice!” Patrick states.

I tip my cap and take off for town knowing that a couple drinks was in our future between the mayor and myself. His directions lead me to the mgs store, a fine grocery store about 30ft long x 20 ft wide that even had a couple pieces of fresh fruit!! A rarity for us this past month. I bought some $12 grapes, chatted with the friendly locals and waited for Alyssa.

My lovely fiancé arrived once more, two and a half days somehow had seemed a long time. The cabbie gave us a ride to the dingy and I impressed with my newly acquired knowledge of the shallows on the ride back. Weaving in between the white sand banks, and ending with a whoosh as the dingy came off plane into the turquoise water of Joe’s sound. If this anchorage didn’t impress Alyssa I knew I should give up then and there but luckily the look on her face told me I wasn’t dreaming and that we were anchored in paradise.

We spent the day catching up on each other’s adventures, napping between paddle board sessions and getting the boat ready for the storm that was coming late that night. Earlier, I had paddled to the houseboat and invited Patrick over for Sundowners, now he made the 30 second commute to our boat just as the sun was dipping below the tree line blocking our proper view. He clamors into our smaller cockpit with a gift, “try a swig of this, the game warden makes it!” Can’t say no as he passes the small bottle of moonshine. It burns going down but better than expected for an out Island concoction. The moonshine sets the tone for the night as I find myself cracking into nice whiskey for myself and Rum for Patrick. As we toss quite a few back he tells us of his writing for the NY Times, his summer work sailing an 80 ft wooden ship and how he came to find himself in Joe’s Sound on a houseboat. Alyssa makes some wonderful spaghetti squash and the storytelling goes on well into the night. It’s not until a strong gust reminds us a storm is coming and that it’d be best for Patrick to get while the getting is good.

It’s not ten minutes after Patrick leaves that the front hits full force, cutting rain and enough wind to heel Heritage over while she’s sitting at anchor. Safely tucked in at Joe’s sound we don’t even feel a ripple in the water as the winds reach 45 kts and it’s easy sleeping as the storm rages!

As the sun came up the next morning the wind was still howling outside and thankfully our anchors (three to be exact) had us planted in the deep water as the current came racing through the cut. Alyssa went up to have her coffee and watch the sunrise, her shrieking woke me fully and I hopped up to see what all the commotion was about. Up on top she spotted a little “stow-away”, a small manatee that was taking refuge in the lee of our boat. As the current ripped through, the manatee floated along using our boat to cut the current. He must’ve had the same idea to wait out the storm in Joe’s sound and we were happy to have the friendly company. He hung around a half hour before the intrepid explorer (Supposedly only about 15 manatee in the Bahamas, so he must be quite the adventurer to get all the way out here) left for other waters. We pass the rest of the day playing board games and baking fresh bread, not too exciting but nice to have a storm day to recoup every once in a while.

We spend a last day in Joe’s sound enjoying the calm after the storm. Patrick’s girlfriend has arrived from Norway and he invites us over for some fresh Conch and sundowners. The houseboat has windows everywhere and must’ve been a hell of a view for the storm or any day for that matter. On the second floor, standing on the picnic table, we were just able to see the sun setting over the pine trees, catching a green flash as the last of the sun hit the sea! We say goodbye and it’s only been three days but Joe’s Sound has left a hell of an impression and can’t help but think of all the windows on the world. The mayor of Joe’s sound has certainly found himself one of the most beautiful.

At high tide the next day we navigate the very tricky cut without incident and are off for Conception Island. An uninhabited island protected as a national park. The conditions are just right and we enjoy an easy sail and afternoon exploring the shell swept beaches of Conception. Not much I can say about the island that pictures can’t do better so I’ll let them tell the story.

The next day we’re off to San Salvador to meet my friend Mike who is flying in for a chance to spear the giant Wahoo out there. Tune in next time to hear about our sharky adventures!

Going Solo!

My beautiful Fiancé had just left on a flight to check out our wedding spot with her mom and I made my way back to Heritage to live the bachelor life for a couple days. No time to mess up the boat and leave the milk out though, a severe westerly cold front was headed our way with winds supposed to push 45 kts and our current anchorage was completely exposed!

I had one day of nice weather to work with and I needed to get Heritage somewhere safe to weather the storm. Before Alyssa left, we had scoured the charts for a safe anchorage somewhere nearby. The problem with being in the “Out Islands” though is that “somewhere nearby” ends up being 55 Nautical Miles away- which is a full days sail in Heritage. There was a nice creek in Long Island that looked like it would be very good protection. So Joe’s Sound on the northwest side of Long Island became my destination, there was a note about the entrance being dangerous and only for a crew experienced at visually piloting around coral but with the storm bearing down I didn’t have much time to think about it. I spent the rest of the day getting the boat ready and planned for a 3 AM departure to put me at my destination by high tide the next day.

The alarm awoke me to a half moon and a million stars. Before tiredness could set in, I started going through my departure checklist. Pulling on some warm clothes, I start the engine, check all the instruments and get ready to pull up anchor. Luckily, it is the calm before the storm and the duck pond water makes this tricky single handed task much easier. From the helm, I slip the boat into gear, give the boat some momentum and then switch it into neutral, I run up front and have the windlass crank up the anchor as our momentum takes us over it. Storing the anchor quickly, I head back to the helm and steer Heritage out into the deep blue. Without a drop of wind I let the diesel engine drive Heritage through the glassy rolling water, her wake being the only ripples in sight. The next couple hours pass in a dreamlike state until the sunrise wakes me up fully for the day and out go the fishing lines. Probably not the best idea while running solo but the world class fishing opportunities just couldn’t be ignored.

“Zzzzzzzzz” it’s ten am and the beautiful sound of line flying off the port reel snaps me to attention just in time to see a big mahi take to the air behind the boat. Line still sizzling off, I slow the boat to a crawl and throw on the autopilot. Grab the rod from its holder and feel the strength of the fish. The next 15 minutes pass as the tug of war goes on, I’m winning but the trickiest part remains. I weave the rod through the standing rigging, making my way to amidships(middle of the boat) on the port (left) side. I’d stationed my gaff here for just such an occasion, one hand on the rod I work the safety cap off. The fluorescent green mahi is mere feet down, studying every motion, I put down the rod and grab the fishing line in my hand, working the mahi into range, I grab the gaff and take a swing, the mahi dodges at the last second going wild. No one to tend the rod so I hold on to the fishing line as the mahi jumps boat side, the 5 second explosion of energy sends water everywhere but after I get another chance, whack, I make this chance count as the gaff sinks into the fish and I pull up the 25 lb bull mahi into the boat!

The fights not out of the fish yet though, and it’s all I can do to hold onto the gaff as the fish goes wild, blood now going everywhere from the gaff wound. Oh boy, Alyssa is gonna kill me! The boat looks like a murder scene… She really should never leave me alone.

It’s two hours of boat and fish cleaning but the fresh mahi for lunch never tasted better, I grin as Heritage rounds past Conception Island and then the northern tip of Long Island. The solo passage is nearing an end and I’m studying the charts for the entrance, I start to feel the full weight of how tricky this is going to be by myself. As I near the entrance into the cut, I can’t even find where to start. I know I need to get a closer look before I take the big boat through. The picture of Heritage torn to pieces on a coral reef flashing through my mind is enough to confirm my plan. I anchor in 20 ft of sand on the wavy outside beach, the wind pushing me back to set the anchor with no one at the helm. I lower the dingy and set off to scout the entrance.

“Whoa, are you sure this is the entrance?” I ask myself as I pull up in the dingy. There is a barrier reef with a couple cuts through that are about 7 ft deep in the right spots, 2 ft to spare on Heritage’s 5ft deep keel. The channel then gets boxed in by a coral rock ledge on either side, I’ll be committed at this point. The channel has about 10 ft of depth so as long as I can keep the 15 ft wide Heritage in the 25 ft wide channel I’ll be fine. The channel acts as a bottleneck though and current is racing through it. At the end there is a strange buoy right in the middle, slightly closer to the right shoreline. When I get closer to it I realize it is marking a 3 ft sandbar, I’m supposed to go between the buoy and the right shoreline, a jutting piece of menacing looking coral that narrows the cut to 20 ft wide. So I play the entrance over in my head, “navigate through the barrier reef, committed after that, stay in the channel but work towards the left side so that I can make the 70 degree right turn between the buoy and jutting coral where I should have about 2 ft on either side of the boat, then I’ll be safely in and just need to make a 150 degree left turn to get to the anchorage. Easy peasy”

With white knuckles and a couple prayers, I picked up the anchor on Heritage and made my move to the entrance. The adrenaline picked up as I passed the barrier reef, the current strengthens, I add some power to maintain steerage, steering for the left side of the channel I glide Heritage’s keel mere feet from disaster, just need to time the turn between the buoy and corner coral… NOW, I turn the wheel hard to starboard, Heritage responds but is swinging a little wide, I give a burst of power to help her through the turn, I straighten out, I can’t see the buoy or coral they are so close to the sides. I wait for the crunch… but it never comes, woohoo, I’m through!! I whip the wheel back to port and pick out a spot in this stunning protected anchorage, welcome to Joe’s Sound! Time for a drink…

Tune in to the next blog to hear about reuniting with Alyssa, weathering the storm, hanging with the mayor of Joe’s Sound, and a trip to the spectacular untouched Conception Island

The land of Hoo

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!

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!

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…