April 12, 2022 - Abaco

There are two distinct Abacos. One is a favorite of tourists and those who have second homes. There are thriving yacht charter companies, residential developments, and many VRBOs. This area exists mainly on the east side of Great Abaco and consists of towns such as Marsh Harbour, Treasure Cay, Hopetown, and Man O'War. But there is another, lesser-known western part, known as the Bight of Abaco. It is a shallow sea with only a few channels deep enough for cruising boats to enter and exit. The Explorer Cruising Guide says that in a year only a few boats visit this “untouched” area, “lending a  feeling of complete wilderness”. It is recommended for boats that draw 5 feet or less. Far and Away draws exactly five feet.

We decided to explore the Bight of Abaco after leaving the Berry Islands. We had a lovely 40-mile sail northwest to Abaco. As we approached we had a short, powerful thunderstorm. We decided to spend the night at Gorda Cay (now known as Castaway Cay). The island was dwarfed by a large cruise ship with mouse ears on its stacks. The whole island is owned by Disney and cruisers are not allowed to land. We only wanted to anchor nearby because it offered us protection from the strong southwest wind. We tried three times to get our anchor to set, but the bottom was hard (sea fans), and we ended up having to go six miles south to Sandy Point, where we finally dropped anchor and had a peaceful night. We watched the cruise ship leave and immediately smoke rose from the island as Disney staff burned the garbage from 4,000 visitors.

Just one of several cold fronts passing through.

The calm after the storm - anchored off Sandy Point

The next day we headed back past Castaway Cay, now deserted except for hundreds of folded up beach umbrellas, and went to More’s Island and the town of Hard Bargain. Who could resist going to a town by that name? We anchored by a big lobster boat, now idle because the season had just ended.

 We went into town and asked where we could buy some fish. An older woman at the landing bellowed out to a man cleaning fish a hundred or more yards away that we wanted some. I was impressed by her set of lungs. Fallon and his wife were cleaning the day’s catch. There were snapper, grouper, hogfish, and lobsters (out of season?). He filleted a lovely fish whose name I didn’t catch. We asked about a store to buy eggs and another gentleman offered to escort us. Along the way, we were joined by little boys on bicycles. One little guy called Nico grandfather. We asked about bread at the store and the woman called her friend who promised to bake us two loaves to pick up the next morning. 

Fallon and his wife cleaning the day's catch

The store where we bought our eggs

And I think it is hard to schedule a dentist appointment...

Continuing our stroll we encountered a large pack of dogs roaming the town. They were big, rangy and many had mange. Some puppies ran over to greet us.

The coastal tug and barge had come in with an oil truck that needed to be unloaded. A crewman was madly digging and throwing rocks to make a makeshift road so the oil truck could come down the ramp onto the beach. Most of the male population was observing his work.

Incredible skill on the part of the driver. He had inches to spare before the rig went in the water.

 We met an older gentleman who was formerly a fisherman and boatbuilder, a life long resident of Hard Bargain. He wanted to show us a model of one of his sailing boats so we accompanied him to a house where he brought out a model.

 Everyone was so friendly. The town lived up to its name, but Hard Bargain was the most authentic Bahamian town we visited. There were no tourists, no tourist facilities, no white residents (seasonal or permanent), and very few yachts visited in the course of a year. The locals were all fishermen. 

Sometimes it was hard to tell what was damaged from Hurricane Dorian or just the way things were.

 The saddest thing for me was the next morning we took a walk while waiting for our bread to be delivered to the store. Our stroll on the road out of town took us to the dump, not unusual. I heard a tentative woof and a small puppy, maybe three months old, crawled out from under some discarded furniture. He tried to be brave, giving a few barks but then he really wanted to come to us, so he wiggled and waggled but didn’t dare. He was covered with mange and it killed me to turn away and leave him, or her, there. No sign of a mom. I kept thinking of Violet’s beginnings in Puerto Rico, the only survivor of a litter when they found her and her mom living under a wrecked car.

I didn't take a picture because it would haunt me.

We did get our wonderful bread, still hot and so good!

The next stop was Rocky Harbor, 30 miles north across the Bight. The Bight is 15 feet deep the whole way. We had a gorgeous sail across the bank. We didn’t see another boat the whole time. The anchorage had a truly remote, wild feel to it. We explored the shallow bay by dinghy and checked out all the damage to the mangroves from Hurricane Dorian. I would have thought mangroves of all plants would not have been affected but there was tremendous damage.

Footprints of a hutia, we think. It is a native mammal, a large rodent like a nutria, woodchuck-sized. There are no people in this area so it would be a good area to find this shy and rare animal.

The Bight is shallow, neon turquoise and just about deserted.

Lovely sailing. There is a natural occurrence called a "fish mud" that is stirred up sand. It makes the water look extremely shallow and can give you a scare when the depth is 10 - 15 feet at the most. Its cause is a mystery.

One reason why hardly anyone comes to this area is that it is hard to get out once you have committed. The only exit is a five-foot channel by Cave Cay, and if we couldn't exit we'd have to sail back to Hard Bargin and enter the out islands from the east, an 80 mile upwind detour. We had to time our passage carefully to hit it right at a rising high tide. A steady strong wind can blow lots of water across the shallow bight which could affect the level. The other problem is that the tide is 2 or maybe 4 hours after high tide in Nassau so predicting the tide isn’t an exact science. I had been closely charting the tide for two days to get a handle on the local tides as best I could. 

As it was our passage was uneventful, the result of careful planning and some luck. I stood at the bow and scanned the color of the water to help tell where to go in the channel. Luckily the shallowest depth we encountered was about six and a half feet. We enjoyed a quiet night off the beach at Cave Cay (as far as we got last time we visited, in 2019) and are now in the Sea of Abaco.