While sailing between Eleuthera and Abaco, we had three LNG tankers cross our path along with several other ships.  This one was the closest.  The US is apparently exporting a lot of LNG right now.

 

In Little Harbour, Abaco we came across this cork tree in full bloom.  The open blossoms are yellow, and the older blossoms turn red.

 

These pretty purple flowers are butterfly peas.  We saw no butterflies nearby, but that was its name.

 

This noble craft is the “Thirsty Cuda”.  It pulls up alongside a partially submerged sandbar covered in tourists, opens the big flap on the side to form an awning, and dispenses great quantities of food and drink.

 

The Hopetown Lighthouse is one of the most photographed things in Abaco.  It is still lit with kerosene and powered by falling weights raised by hand.  It is one of the last of its kind.  Ths was the view from our cockpit.

In the place where a nice house once stood on the shore in Marsh Harbour is the Hurricane Dorian Memorial Garden.  Among the several things there is this tablet.  Take a minute, click on the picture, zoom in, and read it to get an idea of what happened here.

 

If you get a chance drop by Donnie’s Marina in Green Turtle Cay.  It’s easy to find Donnie.  His voice will give him away.  We recommend the place highly.  Simple is often the best.  And, it is an easy walk into town.

We were treated to several good thrashings on our way from Green Turtle Cay to Fernandina Beach.  After one serious rainstorm in the Gulf Stream, the sun came out, and this rainbow appeared.  Too bad the wind and waves remained.

We also had unexpected weather later off Hilton Head Island and Fripp Island when a long tubular cloud extending from horizon to horizon came at us from the west.  Our spot along the cloud had less rain and lacked the lightning that were present on either side, but none-the-less the wind reached 30 knots and stayed there for about 15 minutes before calming down to 25.  I stayed below and Bill dealt with it.  It was followed several hours later by another cloud just like it with similar results.

This is calm, tranquil, and uninhabited Cow House Creek off the Waccamaw River in South Carolina.  That is where we are now.  On arrival we were greeted by an alligator, a pair of nesting ospreys are in a tree behind us, and turtles are sunning themselves on the logs along the shore.  Nice.

Hello from Cow House Creek.  It is June, and we are back in the US.  We left Green Turtle Cay, Abaco making it across to Florida before the tropical storm hit the Bahamas and before a threatening cold front made it down to Florida.  More about our trip back later in this post.

Around May 1^st we turned north and began our trip toward North Carolina stopping at several beaches on Guana Cay in the Exumas.  Stopping at Black Point, Bill and I quickly collected about forty sand dollars on the sand flats in the harbor.  I finally said enough, we could not pick up any more sand dollars.  Still, it was hard for me to walk by sand dollar after sand dollar leaving them behind in the sand.

The weather this year has been rainy in the Bahamas.  We have not had many fierce thunderstorms with strong wind; it has been rain, just lots of rain.  We anchored for several nights at Sampson Cay to explore intending to go from there to the Aga Khan’s Bell Island.  From Bell Island we were planning to leave for the all-day trip to Rock Sound, Eleuthera.  But, on the day we were to leave, it rained, then rained some more.  While the rain did fill our water tanks, it ended our plan.  In the afternoon the sky finally cleared, and we decided to execute a new plan… go to Conch Cut, anchor for the night, and leave for Rock Sound early the next morning.

We had only light wind between Conch Cut and Rock Sound, and we mostly motored with the sails up pretending to sail.  It was an uneventful trip until we got close to the island of Eleuthera.  We could see a distant thunderstorm over Rock Sound.  Not wanting to meet it underway, we anchored at Powell Point for about an hour letting the storm go away.

The Rock Sound Harbor is almost 2 miles wide, and boats often move from one side of the harbor to the other to get the best protection from the wind.  Our first day in Rock Sound we stayed on the east side of the harbor which is the town side.  Bill bought fuel at the local filling station, and then we both went into the Wild Orchid Restaurant for lunch.  We had lunch there three years ago when they had first opened.  This time the owner, who is also the chef, came out and talked with us.  She and our waitress both told us that in the spring of 2020, the Bahamas was completely closed to tourists due to Covid, and she was forced to close the restaurant for a full year.  The cruisers anchored in the harbor were not allowed to come on shore for anything.  To help them, the police compiled a list of phone numbers for the boaters to call for groceries, fuel, medical assistance, and other necessary things.  The boaters would call for whatever they needed, and it would be delivered to the dinghy dock at Wild Orchid where they could also get fresh water.  The boaters could dinghy to the dock and pick up their orders, but they could not get off their dinghies.  To be a boat prisoner, wow!, not me.  I am thankful we had decided not to travel to the Bahamas in 2020.  We were also impressed that the restaurant, which depends on tourists, could survive a year-long shutdown.  It must have been a tough year.

On Saturday, May 7, the wind shifted to the southwest, and thunderstorms were predicted for the afternoon and the next day.  We, along with most of the boats anchored on the east side of the harbor, moved across to the west side of the harbor for wind protection.  By supper time, another 23 boats came into the harbor and joined us on the east side.  We had some wind and rain with the worst at about 4am, (It always happens in the dark.) but nothing too horrible happened.  Sunday, we had threats of more storms, but we only got a few sprinkles.  By Monday the weather cleared, and we moved back across the harbor to be near town anchoring near Frigate’s Restaurant.  From their dinghy dock it was a short walk to a local grocery store.  The store was like a small grocery in the US.  I had bought lots of food in Miami, so our shopping list was short which was nice because there are now no grocery bags in the Bahamas.  We were expected to bring our own reusable bags.  We filled Bill’s small backpack and all four of our hands.  On our way back to the boat, we dropped into Frigates’ for a nice cold Kalik beer and a bit of rest.

Tuesday, May 10 was an eventful day.  We had packed up some heels of bread to feed the fish at the Ocean Hole in Rock Sound.  The hole was a saltwater lake set in the town’s park connected to the sea by caves.  We were walking down the sandy road to the park when at the last house on the left six dogs came out barking at us.  They were not barking friendly barks but were snarling unfriendly barks.  Bill and I just kept walking saying pleasant things to the dogs.  The woman in the house came out and yelled at the dogs.  We just kept walking.  One of the dogs evidently did not like my looks, snuck up from behind me, and unexpectedly lunged out and bit me on the back of my left leg just above my ankle.  I was shocked.  I have never been bitten by a dog.  I yelled to Bill that the dog had bitten me, and we kept walking avoiding any conflict with the dogs or their owner.  Bill remembered bathrooms at the park where he would get water to clean my leg.  Unfortunately, the bathrooms were closed.  We walked over to the parking lot, and Bill asked a man sitting in a small van in the shade of a tree if there was a water faucet nearby.  The nice man offered Bill a half full gallon jug of water.  When the man saw my bleeding leg, he said I needed to go to the clinic, and he would take us.  Bill and I squeezed into his front passenger seat, and we took off.  The man was waiting for the vet to come to look at an injured goat that was behind us in the car.  His jug of water was for the goat.  When we told our driver and then later the clinic staff where we were when the dog bit me, every one of them knew the dogs and their owner pronouncing them all “mean”.

The nurses at the clinic cleaned my wound, dressed it, gave me a tetanus shot, and a course of antibiotics.  The total fee was only $70 including a return examination.  I am sure I’ll get advice on how not to get bitten by a dog.  Trust me, I did not do anything to cause that dog to bite me.  They were just “mean”.

We stayed in Rock Sound until Sunday, May 15 partly waiting for a break in the rainy weather and partly because I had to return to the clinic on Friday for a dressing change and a wound inspection.  The nurses told me I could leave, and they told Bill to change my dressing every third day.  Bill walked around town without me, shopping at another grocery store and going back to the Ocean Hole to feed the fish the two heels of bread that he still had in his pocket.  He wisely avoided the mean dogs’ house.  When we left Rock Sound it was not raining, but along the way to Governors Harbour we saw large raining dark clouds all around us.  Fortunately, using our radar we were able to dodge the storms and arrived in Governors Harbour dry.

Our stay in Governors Harbour was rainy, again.  Two of the boats we were with in Rock Sound came into Governors Harbour on Monday.  We all met that evening on the sailing catamaran Sangaris for drinks and snacks swapping tales of past adventures and advice on the trips ahead.

We left Governors Harbour on Tuesday, May 17 and headed for Current Cut.  Current Cut is an aptly named narrow channel between Current Island and Eleuthera.  The tide flows through the cut at up to 5 knots, and the approach is curvy, narrow, and shallow.  We wanted to pass through the cut with good visibility and with a favorable current.  Our timing was good.  We were mostly concerned with a big black cloud to our west.  Thankfully, that squall missed us, and we only had a few drops of rain.  We came through the cut without a problem and anchored just northeast of the cut off a white sandy beach backed with palm trees and some nice houses.

Ahead lay a 50 nautical mile open water crossing from Eleuthera to Abaco.  To get to the jumping off point, we motored to Egg Island and anchored there planning to leave early the next morning.  The seafloor where we anchored was rocky, and it was so calm and the water both so clear and so still that I could sit in the cockpit, look over the side, and see the colorful tropical fish swimming around the rocks 15 feet below.  It was magical.

We left Egg Island before sunrise on May 19.  “Before sunrise” is really, really early for me.  When we left there was no wind, so we motored.  Later, the wind returned, and were able to raise all three of our sails.  It was a good trip.  We arrived at Little Harbour Cut in Abaco at 5pm and motored through the cut.  Our anchor was down shortly afterwards in the lee of Lynyard Cay.

The next morning, we launched the dinghy and went into the Little Harbour settlement for lunch at Pete’s Pub.  Pete also had a gallery and a shop in Little Harbor where he sold the cast bronze sculptures that he made in his foundry (along with tee shirts and such).  After lunch, we went to the gallery and spoke with the clerk who was also a potter.  She was quite friendly, and we had a long conversation about Hurricane Dorian.  She lived in Marsh Harbour which was heavily damaged in the storm.  She told us about the storm and how they coped when it was over.  It was quite a story; certainly not one you (or I) would want to experience.

Bill and I headed north to Elbow Cay stopping first at Tahiti Beach.  Tahiti Beach brings in lots of people on their small boats who are in the Abacos staying in rental properties.  They come to play on the palm tree lined white sand beach (well, it used to have lots of palm trees and post hurricane Dorian a few still remain) and to play on the huge sandbar that emerges at low tide.  We watched the Thirsty Cuda, a houseboat made into a restaurant and bar, pull up to the beach, anchor there, and began to sell food and drinks to the crowd.  The customers waded out to the boat, placed their orders, got their snacks and drinks, and waded back to the beach or stood in the waist deep water to enjoy their purchase.  It was fascinating to watch.  The Cuda guy must have made a killing, and he did not have to clean toilets.  We went to the beach early Sunday morning May 22 before the arrival of Thirsty Cuda and the crowd.  I found several sand dollars but left them for someone else to find.  Bill found three nice shells but placed them in the sand behind a small girl who was digging away.  He hoped she would later discover them.

With the tide rising, we left Tahiti Beach and motored to Hopetown’s harbor where it can sometimes be difficult for us to enter with our 1.5m draft.  We usually anchor outside and take our dinghy in.  But, at high tide we had no problems, we easily came into the harbor, and I snagged a mooring ball on the second attempt.  (Bill screwed up the first attempt.)  The town looked nice, much had been rebuilt, and all the rubble had been removed.  We ate in a restaurant, bought gifts, went shopping, and walked around town.  One evening we sat in our cockpit and enjoyed watching the lighthouse keeper atop the tower silhouetted in the evening sky take down the curtains, light the kerosene lamp, and start the clockwork driven lenses revolving.  I really enjoyed our time in Hopetown.

We dropped our mooring early on Tuesday May 24 at high tide in order to have sufficient water depth leaving Hopetown and headed across the Sea of Abaco to Marsh Harbour.  I do not know if any of you saw pictures of Marsh Harbour after Dorian, but the town was totally devastated.  Not one building was left standing.  Everything was washed or blown away.  As Bill and I were entering the harbor, we had to stop and examine our charts because we did not recognize our surroundings, so much was gone.  Here the rubble has mostly been carted away, the concrete floor slabs of the buildings remain, and rebuilding is in progress.  Three restaurants were open.  Colours, a restaurant we had visited before, was open in a spot beside the ruins of their old place.  They built a new deck with a bar and restaurant seating.  The kitchen and storage were in a pair of shipping containers.  Walley’s restaurant was rebuilt in its old location.  A new restaurant, A.J’s., was open near the restored Maxwells Grocery which now has a large hardware department.  Three marinas were re-building, and one was already selling diesel fuel and fresh water.  The local laundromat was restored and open.  What impressed us the most was that everyone we met was smiling, happy to be working, and delighted that we were there.  The number of cruising boats in Marsh Harbour was a fraction of what was there previously, but hopefully with time more will come.

After getting our laundry done, buying a few groceries, finding gauze and adhesive tape for my dog bite, and eating in restaurants, it was time to continue with our journey north.  We left Marsh Harbour and anchored for one night at Water Cay before going around Whale Cay on Friday.  A string of sand bars extended from Whale Cay to the Abaco “mainland” closing off any route north in the protected water between the cays and the “mainland”.  To continue north, we had to go around Whale Cay on its ocean side, and we did.  Back in protected waters again, we anchored Irish Eyes off the settlement of New Plymouth on Green Turtle Cay.  With unsettled weather expected, Bill took the dinghy into Black Sound (one of two protected spots inside the cay) and arranged for a mooring ball at Donnie’s Marina.  At high tide we got over the shallow spot at the entrance to the sound and went to the marina where I snagged the mooring ball on my first attempt.

Green Turtle Cay had hurricane damage too.  We walked around town and ate in restaurants while we were there.  Once again, we could see dark stormy clouds all around, and we had a few periods of rain but nothing horrible.  Chris Parker, the weather forecaster we listen to over the shortwave radio, began talking about a possible tropical storm impacting the Abacos by Saturday June 4.  About that same time a cold front was expected to exit the US mainland around North Carolina and move south toward the Bahamas.  It was time for us to leave the Bahamas.  I did the online portion of clearing out of the Bahamas and Bill telephoned Customs.  A Customs Officer was to meet us at Donnie’s Marina early Tuesday morning May 31.  She never arrived, but after lunch we received our outbound clearance by email.  The dinghy was onboard within minutes, and we were off.  The only problem was that the customs delay left us leaving at low tide.  We grounded, but Irish Eyes’ keel pushed through the mud, and we got out of Black Sound.

Our course was set for the St. Mary’s River entrance at Fernandina Beach, Florida 325 straight line nautical miles away.  Over the next three days and nights, we had 25 knot storms, very light wind, huge swells breaking into the cockpit, and three and a half inches of rain.  It was a long and rough trip.  We sailed, motored, and motor sailed.  At 8am on Friday June 3 we entered the St. Mary’s River.  We anchored Irish Eyes, and I did our online clearance into the US.  We had managed to avoid both Tropical Storm Alex and the cold front.  The weather forecast for Fernandina was for strong winds, so we arranged a slip at Fernandina Harbor Marina for three days to let the cold front pass.

The first day we slept, and even after that we were tired.  When we re-emerged, we were rested but still sleepy.  Bill called his first cousin, Joe, and set plans for supper on Sunday.  We took showers, our first real showers with unlimited hot water in a long time.  We went out for a pizza, a real pizza with stringy cheese and with leftovers that were good for lunch the next day.  We visited two museums, Bill bought a book, we walked around the downtown, we bought fresh shrimp, we got our second Covid boosters, we bought some groceries, and I talked to a few of the many people who walked up and down the marina docks during the day.  One couple left us with some memorial seashells that we agreed to toss into the ocean for them.  Another had four kids in tow, and Bill gave a guided tour of the boat to the younger two while the other two watched with an air of superiority from the cockpit.  We went back to the same Italian restaurant where we had pizza with Joe and his wife Carolyn and even had the same waiter.  Our conversation was too enjoyable, and we talked too long while the establishment closed around us.  It was fun.  I was worried we would not sleep well in the marina with all the lights, the road traffic, two paper mills, and a railroad, but after three nights at sea we both sleep quite well each night.

While we really wanted to go back into the ocean and sail for the Cape Fear River, the weather kept us in the ICW motoring first to Lanier Island near Brunswick then to the North Newport River south of Savannah.  There we went into the ocean through the St Catherine’s Sound Entrance and up the coast to Charleston.  Once again, in the ocean we got hit by bad weather.  The thunderstorms coming off the coast missed us, but we had some rain, winds that peaked at 30 knots, and seas that reached six feet.  We entered Charleston Harbor at sunrise amid ships entering and leaving at daybreak.  We found ourselves between the rock jetties at the entrance with two ships and a pilot boat.  Think of the squeeze… rocks - outbound cargo ship - pilot boat - incoming tanker - us - rocks.  It was alarmingly tight. 

Continuing north in the tranquil ICW at the Ben Sawyer Bridge to Sullivans Island, we followed behind then overtook two sailboats both with young crews and failed engines being pushed ever so slowly north by their inflatable dinghies’ outboard motors.  Oh, the optimism and perseverance of youth.  We stopped one night in the South Santee River then continued past Georgetown and into the Waccamaw River anchoring in the isolated Cow House Creek.  Here, we will wait out the weekend small boat traffic Myrtle Beach and press on toward New Bern on Monday.

It's good to be back in the US, and I don’t have much farther to go to be home.