Last we left off we had liberated our buddy Phil and I stitched Adams foot while underway…
We arrived in one (stitched up) piece to Rum Cay just in time to catch a beautiful sunset and make dinner before we both fell into a heavy well deserved sleep! Rum Cay is appropriately named after a ship carrying barrels of rum wrecked on its dangerous coral reef in the 18th century and the men all made it to shore but with nothing to survive other than rum! (We can assure you there is no shortage of Rum even to this day)
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.
Sunrise on my solo passage
“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!
Nice Bull Mahi!
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
Rum Cay is appropriately named after a ship carrying barrels of rum wrecked on its dangerous coral reef in the 18th century and the men all made it to shore but with nothing to survive other than rum! (We can assure you there is no shortage of Rum even to this day)
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!
