Mike Ball

In response to some requests, along with a desire to learn more about using my scanner and photo editor, I’ve included some maps. These are excerpted from

Yachtsman’s Guide to the Bahamas
Meredith Fields, Editor

I heartily recommend the book for anyone really interested in the area.

This map shows the entire Bahamas area. The little square shows where we were.

This one shows the Exuma area, with George Town, our point of entry and exit

This one is where we spent the second day. The transit was pretty well along the indicated courses.

The final one is Crooked Island and the Bight of Acklins, where we poked around for several days.

This is a summary of my May 6 to May 17 trip to the Bahamas. While there I stayed on our boat, the Roseate. Individual posts will cover individual parts of the trip.

Just to finish the story, it wasn’t raining the next morning, so the trip home was uneventful. No lost luggage, no bad weather, and we even got in a little early.

Itinerary:

May 6 - Saturday

Fly to from San Diego to Ft. Lauderdale

May 7 - Sunday

Fly from Ft. Lauderdale to George Town, Exuma Island, overnight at Stocking Island.

May 8 - Monday

To George Town for Supplies, then South through Hog Key Cut to Dollar Harbor on Long Island

May 9 - Tuesday

Transit South to Crooked Island, overnight at French Wells at Crooked Island

May 10 - Wednesday

to Landrail Point on Crooked Island, explored Crooked Island by car, overnight at French Wells again

May 11 - Thursday

The Bight of Acklins, Long Cay, and Acklins Island

May 12 - Friday

North through the Bight to “the going through”, didn’t go through

May 13 - Saturday

Gun Point & Turtle Sound

May 14 - Sunday

Back to Exuma

May 15 - Monday

Picking up the new outboard in George Town

May 16 - Tuesday

Market, then back to a stable anchorage

May 17 - Wednesday

Going home

General comments on the Roseate

Still no weather front, but we had some strong gusts overnight and the little harbor where we anchored is getting rough. We went to the local market for some supplies, then back to Red Shank for some quiet water. There are a number of other boats anchoring in the area too, so we aren’t the only ones who had this idea.

We had to make more water, so we set it up, and I’m staying on board while it runs. Charlie and Donna went to the beach, but I’m not a fan of beaches, and the noise is almost inaudible up on the fly bridge. So I sat up there, read, and listened to lectures. It’s warm, breezy, and really nice.

The wind has been picking up during the afternoon, and this evening, as we were watching a DVD it started to rain for the first time since I’ve been here. It’s just been getting harder, and shows no signs of stopping. I hope I don’t have to get off to the boat and to the airport in the rain tomorrow. I don’t have any suitable rain gear

Bad weather did not develop overnight, though it is cloudier than it has been. It’s also breezy, and Charlie claims that the crossing would have been harder if we had delayed, and could have been much harder. I am just as glad that we pushed a little.

I took the boat the few miles into Elizabeth’s Harbor at George Town. We went through some mighty thin water, but it wasn’t all that bad because we took it fairly slowly. Anyway, we arrived safely and discovered that Charlie’s new motor had arrived safely. Getting it through customs was another task, involving much paper work and travelling back and forth. Sort of a bureaucratic game of Fetch a Rock.

While Charlie was skipping from one end of the city to another, I checked out a couple of souvenir shops and found nothing of interest. I visited the local library (all volunteer, open 10:00 to 12:00 Monday through Friday, 10:00 to Noon on Saturday). Yes, that’s what the sign says. I chatted for a while with the librarian, who was hoping it would rain, admired their effort, which had produced a pretty good library, and wandered out again to look for something to drink. I spent the rest of the time at an outdoor bar just down the street. Donna eventually joined me, and we had (bad) cheeseburgers for lunch. I just couldn’t resist getting a Cheeseburger in paradise.

We got the motor onto the dinghy, and Charlie has been spending most of the afternoon reading the manual and fiddling with it. To me, it looks awfully big on that little dinghy, but lots of the local dinghies have comparable engines.

The weather is getting darker, as we wait for dinnertime. Donna made reservations for this evening, so we’ll see what a local restaurant is like.

(Dinner Passes) The restaurant was fine, though the air conditioning was startling as we walked in. The food was unexceptional; I had a chicken Caesar salad that wasn’t bad, but wasn’t all that good. It was nice to get some salad, though. My diet on the boat has been significantly veggie challenged!

Still no rough weather, but the wind continues to pick up.

After the prediction of an approaching front, we wanted to get the open water behind us before it got here. We started out today before 7:00 and made as directly as we could for Exuma. The morning was cloudy, but so far it’s been calm and very smooth cruising. We’ll see.

The whole day went well, and we made it all the way back to Exeuma with no trouble. The entire trip took about 12 hours, for a distance of more than 90 miles. It was a long and uneventful day. I ended up doing most of the navigation; a part of my campaign to learn all about this boat. Most of the time we just let the autopilot take us where we were going while we kept half an eye out for trouble.

We finally anchored in a harbor called Red Shank, a few miles from George Town. Charlie and Donna are fixing a fine fish dinner. My more humble role is to do the dishes afterwards.

The tide was high this morning, so Charlie and I took the dinghy to go see Gun Point and Turtle Sound. Interestingly, we saw a gun at Gun Point and some turtles in Turtle Sound. I didn’t get any pictures of the turtles, but I did get some of rays that we saw on the trip.

The next item in the order of the day was sitting on the fly bridge listening to lectures while Charlie went snorkeling, then cleaned his catch while Donna fished off the stern. Donna caught some small ones but nothing big enough to keep. The sea was very still, with just enough breeze to keep it comfortable (if that)

We decided to move North and have a look around that end of Crooked Island. On the way we came across Jimmy Buffet’s boats (yes, plural). There was a very clear ring around the sun, and we were starting to get concerned about weather change. We’d seen the Bird Rock Light from the shore, and decided to see it up close and get some better pictures for Kathy. The light house is automated now, but they just stuck it on top of the original gas light and the updated electric light. We took the dinghy over and wandered around, climbing to the top and checking out the interior. We ran into a French family (I think they were a family) who had sailed a catamaran from France. There were two adults and about 6 teens and sub-teens. I can’t imagine what that must be like. They have 3 more months to go on their trip, and are writing it up for some French magazine.

Finally we wandered (carefully) along the North shore, looking for some caves that were alleged to be there. We found them. The book says

In their huge, cathedral-like rooms are stalactites so translucent that the appear carved from white jade.

Which, for some definition of huge is sort of true. We found lots of bats, and there were some stalactites, but very small ones. It was, however more cave than I expected to find in the Bahamas, so I guess I can’t complain.

We went ashore to see the caves and get some time away from the boat while the watermaker worked. It’s very noisy. We visited the caves, then Charlie and Donna went for a walk on the beach. I tagged along for a little way, but soon gave up. Having no ankles that really work makes walking in soft sand extremely hard work, not to mention rather painful. I ended up sitting on the beach waiting for their return. When we got back to the boat it turned out that we had set the watermaker to work filling the wrong tank, which was already half full. We put up with the noise for a while to fill the right tank.

We finally found a weather report with a prediction of a front coming through Sunday night, so we anchored in a place that we could get out of easily, and are planning to get our open-sea transit done as early as we can tomorrow.

Today we completed our circumnavigation of the Bight. We cruised North, heading for a passage called the “going through”, which led to a sheltered area on the North side of Acklins Island. We didn’t get through. The water was much too thin, even for the Roseate, which only draws two feet. We gave up and circled back along the North shore of the Bight to French Wells. The tide was out, and the depth depth finder said 2.1 feet of depth on some of the trip. It was a nervous trip in places. Luckily, there weren’t any waves, so we didn’t have to worry about bouncing off the bottom.

We anchored at French Wells again, and went over to the beach for a swim. Afterward we took the dingy up the tidal creek that comes out around there. There were some holes in it with some good-sized fish, and one place where we could see rock walls that lined one side of the creek. I really wonder about the geology here. How did that creek get made? Was there enough flow somehow to cut it through the bank? There certainly isn’t now, as the only flow was a gentle tidal current. Maybe there’s a really fierce wet season?

I spent much of the day idle, as we were just cruising slowly along, and I started thinking about the tools problems for HPC and Sun. It’s much more complicated than we would like to admit, and it’s certainly not “If we build it, they will come.” I think I’ll start a discussion about this on my work blog. Hey, thinking about work again is a good sign! The burnout is receding.

Today was a slow cruise on the Bight of Acklins, a shallow area enclosed by this group of islands. In contrast to the open transits we made a couple of days ago, this was completely smooth, with calm water and almost no wind. Our first destination was a rumored flock of flamingos down Long Cay. They were there, sitting on a flat surrounded by very shallow water. Charlie and I took the dinghy in to the beach and approached them on foot. I’d never seen a flock of flamingos in the wild before, and it was indeed quite a sight. Check out the pictures I’ve got of them.

After that, we cruised slowly across the south edge of the Bight, the water alternating between still and slightly rippled. You could easily see to the bottom. I just sat in some shade and watched it go by. There were supposed to be some reefs along the route, but they were not at all what we were expecting. Just some rocks, sponges, and soft coral. The water was so still that the wake went on forever. I’m not exaggerating when I say it looked like crystal. The gradations of color were so subtle that I despair of capturing them with the camera, but you should get the idea.

We haven’t seen another vessel since we started across the Bight, and there are certainly none where we are anchored, on the west side of Acklins Island. It feels perfectly isolated. I went for a swim, and it’s the first time in many years that I’ve been in comfortably warm salt water.

I like it.

This morning we cruised up the east side of Crooked Island to Landrail Point,on the way we trailed a couple of lines and managed to catch two (inedible) baracuda and a (very edible) grouper. We landed on the beach at Landrail Point and asked about someone who could give us a car tour of the island. Eventually we connected with one, though it took a while. Everything is on island time, which tends to be a bit flexible. The island is fairly large, with a population of a couple of hundred people. It’s very pretty in a tropical island fashion, with lots of mangroves and palms, quaint houses, and friendly people.

They have a local custom of putting up shelters, sponsored by the government, that are roofed patios, sometimes with benches built around the edges. These are amazingly welcome when the sun gets hot, and sitting on a bench, in the shade with a sea breeze can just make your day. We shared one with some workmen and their dog while we were waiting for a car and had a leisurely and pleasant conversation. Two of them were on a crew to fix the road, and were on their lunch break. A couple of them were just “chilling”. Those two were arguing about nothing much at all, which provided a good show when nobody had anything else to say. One, from Nassau, was both an outsider and drunk, while the other was local and stoned. I could sit for hours listening to their accents. I only understood about half of the words, but it sounded wonderful! Donna gave the dog some water and made a friend for life.

We got tired of waiting and wandered over to a restaurant for lunch. Of course we couldn’t have any right away, because the owner was “at the airplane” and the person who was there couldn’t serve lunch until she returned. We got her to serve us some iced tea (Crystal Light) and eventually the driver found us. We asked him to join us for iced tea, which he did, and eventually he agreed to return for us in about 45 minutes. Lunch was pretty good, and we eventually got on our way. Actually, the lady running the resturant was quite personable, and even asked for a picture of the Roseate, which I am going to send her shortly. If I say anything wrong here, and she reads it, I hope that she’s charitable.

The road (there was only one main road) was definitely in need of the repairs that our friends were working on, and went around the whole island. It was “That’s where cousin Willie works, that’s the Anglican Church, where my mother preaches. That’s the Baptist Church. That’s the Ferry landing. And so on. Our next to last stop was a house on a hill top with great view of both sides of the island. It turned out to belong to our stoned friend from the shelter, who greeted us like old buddies.

We got back to Landrail Point and continued up to Pitts Town, an area that is being turned into a luxury resort. The first postoffice in the Bahamas is still there, sortoff. You can find its walls incorporated as inner walls in the bar. Jimmy Buffet was also staying there, and his seaplane, an old Grumman Goose, was on the landing strip. Now we understood the plane we saw the previous night. We also got a distant view of Bird Rock Light.

Back to French Wells for the night. We had the baracuda from the trip up, and Charlie and Donna were anxious to try chumming the water for snapper. We did catch some, though the only thing I hooked was a shark who broke the line. I’m afraid that I really have no enthusiasm for fishing as an action, though I’m quite ready to eat them, and it only seems prudent to drop a line while cruising. Mostly, holding a pole bores me.

This is easily the most luxurious small boat I’ve ever been on. I sleep in the forward cabin, which has two single bunks, one along either side.They meet in a V at the foot end, but it doesn’t seem as though there would be much interference with someone in the other bunk. The forward cabin has a separate bath and shower, with a toilet that flushes considerably more reliably than the “reduced flow” toilet at home. I hesitate even to call it a “head.”The cabin has a overhead ventilator hatch and two fans to keep the air flowing, so it’s very comfortable.

The Roseate has a watermaker, so there is no need for short water rations. Showers every night!

Charlie and Donna are in the aft cabin, which has a nice double bed and a private bath/shower of its own. There are bunks for four others, though they double as couches during the day.

Guaba, who sleeps pretty much where she pleases, completes the company.

The main problem I’ve found with sleeping is the collection of strange noises that the boat makes as it moves at anchor. Shifts in wind or current cause lines to flap and the dinghy to bump into the side. The first night I spent aboard I woke up in the middle of the night convinced that we were being boarded. The next face I expected to see was Johnny Dep’s, possibly followed by a skeleton in the full moon. As I finished waking up, I realized that the wind had shifted and a line was batting against the hull. Since then, I’ve kept one of the fans going just for a white-noise cover.

Getting to shore and back usually involves the dinghy, a rubber boat that we can either tow, for short cruises, or bring on board for longer or rougher ones. It has an electric winch to make moving it around an easy job. Its most vital function in our daily routine is taking Guaba to shore every morning and evening. She seems to be able to hold out during the day, which is pretty amazing to me.

We’ve been doing a fair amount of cruising, which is mostly waiting of course. The boat has full navigation equipment and autopilot, so most of the time you just keep an eye out looking for shallow water and possible obstacles. When the weather is still and the water sheltered, cruising is quite stable, and you can do other things like read, nap, or write on the computer. That’s the kind of cruising we’ve been doing the last couple of days. On rougher seas, things get a bit more active, and it takes all of your attention just to hold on. We have a stabilizing sail that reduces the rolling, but this is not the most stable boat I’ve seen. Charlie says that’s a characteristic of trawlers, and they sometimes get fitted with automatic stabilizers to help. Personally, I found that it took my attention, but didn’t bother me. Lots of people, like Guaba, get seasick. She was a very unhappy dog by the time we got through.

We’ve made a ritual of watching the sunset, hoping to see a green flash. We usually have an open western horizon,but there’s been some sort of haze that partly obscures the sunset as it goes down. No green flash so far, but some pretty sunsets anyway.