Exuma - Part 3
Our time in Great Exuma gets its own entry because it was so different from our other anchorages. For one thing, Elizabeth Harbor, which is pretty much protected on all sides by Stocking Island and Great Exuma Island, is a world of its own. It is a sailing mecca. There were hundreds of sailboats and smaller power boats anchored all along the shore and on moorings in three protected harbors on Stocking Island. Many people come for the winter or stay for a week or more. At night it looked like a small city or the Milky Way galaxy with all anchor lights on. Dinghies were buzzing back and forth to town. The cool thing is to stand in your dinghy holding on to the tiller extension or bow line while going full speed. Every morning there is the Cruiser’s Net radio on channel 72 with weather, concerns, equipment swap, departures and arrivals, kid’s corner, community announcements etc. There are organized water aerobics, bonfires, bible study, poker games and A.R.C. (Alcohol Research Parties) on the beach, There is also community service such as fund raising cookouts for local organizations. We met a man who lived aboard his boat. He was volunteering in the library and tutoring a student. Despite the multitude of boats there was no pump out service or fuel. (The fuel dock was destroyed by a hurricane.) We took in jerry cans by dinghy and carried them to the gas station to fuel up. We did fill our water tanks for $.30 a gallon at the marina, although most people filled cans for free at the dinghy dock. There was, however, lots of variety at the market! Small freighters were constantly coming and going from the government dock.
Elizabeth Harbor, looking north from Stocking Island towards Far and Away (4th boat from the end) and Hooper's Bay, where Lisa and Joe rented a house for the week.
Looking southeast from the monument on top of Stocking Island towards Georgetown. Sailors have written their boat names using limestone blocks.
Looking south towards Little Exuma and the protected bays on Stocking.
East from the monument and the outer reef
The lights of the boats at night
Rough limestone on the east side of Stocking Island
We hiked to that side looking for a good snorkeling spot
Full moon over the harbor
The great thing about our week in Great Exuma is that Nico's sister Lisa and her husband Joe rented a house nearby. We anchored right outside of the town, Georgetown, for easy access to shore. Most often we would meet about noon and go off to a gorgeous beach and explore the island or they would come out for lunch on the boat, usually bringing the best take-out barbecue chicken ever, and we would go to a reef to snorkel. Afterwards, drinks or dinner before we headed back to the boat. It was a great time. It has been about 30 years since we have been together in the Bahamas and, as usual, lots of good talk.
Lisa and Joe enjoying some well deserved down time.
The gorgeous beach on Little Exuma helped with the relaxation process
Lunch stop at Santanna's Bar & Grill
The grouper special
Classic rum punch
The colors were out of this world
Rain squall
A salt pond, or salina, from the 1700's. You can just barely see the lines that divided the evaporation ponds.
This monument was built between the ponds and the beach to guide ships in to pick up the salt, hand carried over the sand in baskets. Working in the ponds was brutal - blindness from the sun and sores from the constant salt.
Siblings on the Tropic of Cancer
Arriving at the boat with lunch and cold beers!
The record of our trips in and out of the harbor from our chart plotter
This would be a good point to add a few comments about the demanding nature of our trip. Lisa texted her siblings when she got back to the States, “The trip they are on is epic and not for the faint of heart.” Hurricane Michael aside, it has not been a trip with extreme hazards but, as Nico likes to say, we exist in a dynamic environment and we cannot comprehend all the variables. We are out of our comfort zone and have to be always prepared for the worst - and that can be taxing. We are always half listening for the anchor alarm to go off, indicating that we are dragging. One night we were anchored close - well, actually IN the channel by Stocking Island - because there wasn't much room with all the boats. We were suddenly awoken out of a deep sleep by a long, angry blast of a horn followed by a searchlight. Nico leapt on deck and turned on the engine to creep forward, out of the way of a tug and very large barge filled with gravel.
We are also essentially camping for months, luxurious camping I admit, but still we are living in close quarters, occasional damp bunks, a holding tank for sewage that has needed Nico’s constant attention (but which, as of yesterday, may finally be fixed?), no laundry, and a two burner propane stove and no refrigeration. Rum drinks without ice each night can be a real hardship! Plus, I don’t even want to talk about what is happening to my hair and skin.
More seriously, the reason we took this trip is because of my head injury over two years ago. Teaching became difficult and I needed a break. It was a perfect time to do something adventurous. What I didn’t realize the impact of is that on a boat you never stop moving. The brain has to constantly work to maintain balance and equilibrium. If it rolls all night the brain is working all night and does not get a rest. Unfortunately, this meant that some of my post concussion symptoms came back although I was in denial about it for a long time. It wasn’t until we got to Great Exuma and I had some serious vertigo that I realized what was going on. I took two nights ashore in a lovely guest house (Regatta Point) and took it really, really easy. However, despite that nice break, I was still dizzy and we ended up in the local clinic for much of the day. Unable to reach my doctor (who was vacationing somewhere in the Bahamas!) and unable to get a good exam by the clinic doctor, I remembered that I took Benadryl after my concussion when I got vertigo with a cold. I figured I might have water in my ears from so much snorkeling so I gave it a try. So far, no vertigo. We are now taking care not to travel when it is really rough and not to pound into the wind. We are finding calm harbors and waiting out high winds. Nico has been very good about doing that all along, even though his risk tolerance is light years above mine.
We had a rough couple of days when we thought I might not be able to continue the voyage. Here the boat is so far south and we have thousands of miles to go. We are a team and we both panicked at trying to figure what to do if I had to bail out. So, sadly, we probably won’t reach some islands that don’t have good wind protection but at least we will enjoy traveling to the Abacos. I’ll just listen closely to what my head is telling me.
View from my bedroom terrace where I took it easy for a couple of days. The first night Nico stayed on the boat because it was blowing hard. The second night he anchored by Regatta Point and joined me.
The lovely living area
