August 2019 – Have Wind Will Travel

One of the Bahamas’ Best Kept Secrets: Andros

August 23, 2019anniedike

Phillip and I had no plans to stop in Andros on our last voyage through the Bahamas. Although we do have a good friend who told us (when we were planning our first trip to the Bahamas in 2017) that it is a great spot for kitesurfing, we got caught up like most do in our excitement to see the Exuuumas! When most people write and post about the remote, untouched beauty of the Bahamas, they’re usually referring to the Exumas and surrounding islands. Places like Cat Island:

Staniel Cay with its famous James Bond Thunderball Grotto:

Or Little Exuma with its Tropic of Cancer Beach:

Many Bahamas cruisers told us while the Abacos are fun and stunning in their own right, there is just something pristinely breathtaking about the Exumas. So, when we left Bimini headed toward New Providence Channel all headings were pointing east, to the Exumas. But, as you know from our last blog and my scariest moment of the trip, the weather forced us on a slight detour. And, as is usually the case, Phillip and I were thrilled we took the detour because it revealed to us yet another new, exciting destination in the Bahamas: Andros.

Although our mere single-night stay this last time proved to us Andros is a rare gem, with experiences and stories all its own, after researching further we have since learned Andros is one of the most cost-effective and well-stocked islands in the Bahamas. Because it is so large, produce and water are often in much greater supply than the smaller islands. As many of you may know, water can cost as much as $1.00/gallon in certain areas of the Bahamas. With as much water as Phillip and I need to drink while sweating and dehydrating daily in the Bahamas and use for showering and rinsing the boat, the price for water in the Bahamas can start to creep into the budget.

We also learned Andros is home to one of the best and largest barrier reefs in the Bahamas, the Andros Barrier Reef, which Phillip and I plan to dive and snorkel in the future.

*Ahhhh … it’s so comforting to see healthy reefs!*

The spearfishing would also be good on the east shore of Andros as it drops right into the Tongue of the Ocean. Catching fresh fish to cook on the boat every night is not only delicious, it’s also not bad on the wallet either. All told, Phillip and I are planning to check out Fresh Water Creek and spend more time in Andros the next time we sail by. We know it’s worth another stop for more discovery because we got a personal, local peek into the island this last time when Phillip scored three-hour driving tour guided by a long-time Andros local and the Harbor Master, a wonderful woman named Kenedra (whose name I can only hope I’m spelling correctly) and her bubbly daughter, Diamond!

We dropped the hook in Morgan’s Bluff rather early in the morning, hours before dinner time (and you remember what was for dinner that night! : ).

With the whole afternoon on our hands, Phillip and I decided to venture ashore to take a poke around and see what life is like at Morgan’s Bluff.

I’ll admit it is just a beautiful little beach with a tiny little rum bar, but that sounds like heaven to me! And, it was. The beach there on the north end of Andros was nothing short of stunning.

And, an ice cold Kalik and rum drink after the beat-down and fish battle we’d just been through was quite the reward.

After talking with a local at the bar, we inquired about a potential tour of the island and he personally set us up with the Harbour Master, Kenedra, who offered to take us around the island herself personally that afternoon by car. This was such a surprise and wonderful treat.

Kenedra first took us to the huge rocky bluff on the northern tip of Andros. It really is a steep ways up with a harsh rocky shore below.

Legend has it, the cruel and infamous buccaneer Henry Morgan (you guessed it … THE Captain Morgan) had a hideout in a cave at this most northwestern tip of Andros. He and his crew allegedly hid their booty, both gold and rum (that’s worth hiding!), in the cave because the bluff the cave is located under was a notoriously dangerous spot for ships. Since most other sailors and pirates avoided this area because of its treacherous shore, Captain Morgan thought it was the best place in the world for his treasure.

Kenendra snapped mine and Phillip’s photo in front of the sign commemorating the Captain Morgan legend on Andros.

She told us, though, by the end of his career, legend says Captain Morgan was known not for his keen pirating abilities, but for his excessive drinking and weight gain. Blame it on the rum …

Kenedra drove us all over the island, stopping frequently to catch up with fellow Andros residents. (This is very common in the Bahamas.) Locals usually do not pass each other on the roads without honking and waving, at the very least, and often not without stopping and talking for a bit. It never ceases to amaze me how connected they are, compared to people in the States who can go for days, weeks (months even!), without talking to any people in their neighborhood. The sense of community there is truly heart-warming. After the Bluff and Captain Morgan’s famous cave (and specifically in response to her daughter, Diamond’s, insistent urging) Kenedra also took us to a quirky little hotel, the Pineville Motel, where the owner has a petting zoo with an eclectic mix of animals, ranging from goats, to peacocks, to rabbits.

I wanted to pet (keep) them all! Thankfully, Phillip put the kibosh on it (or that would make for quite an interesting sail on Plaintiff’s Rest the next day! Phillip and I also posed for another cameo photo on the Pineville Motel’s Disco Stage.

[Strike your own John Travolta disco move now! That’s a HaveWind order!]

Kenedra also took us to an exquisite little bungalow resort on the island, the Andros Island Beach Resort, and introduced us to the owner who runs the rental units (adorable little cottages right on the beach) and the restaurant.

Phillip and I were really surprised to see such amazing accomodations here, that would cost upwards of $500/night on the east coast of Florida going for a mere $200/night in the Bahamas. Another reason it pays to travel.

Diamond was cracking me up at this point. Over the course of the three hours she went from shy and unengaged to bubbly and inquisitive. Diamond and I became good little buddies by the end of it. She wanted to braid my hair. I should have let her!

Our last stop on the tour was the “Blue Hole.” While we have since learned there are many of these in the Bahamas, the one in Andros carries all the way out to the ocean.

The hole formed when a portion of the limestone island caved in, leaving a stunning blue water hole in the middle of the island fauna that is filled with cold, rainwater. But, if you dive the hole, you will start to lower down into water with more salinity and you can eventually cave dive your way out of the hole into the Tongue of the Ocean on the east coast of Andros.

How cool is that? It was cool enough for Phillip to jump in!

I only hesitated (as you all know I love to jump from cliffs) knowing if I got soaked I’d have to drench Kenedra’s car with my wet soppy clothes and wild pile of hair. Stinking hair … there are so many times I wish I was bald and more “quick-dry” like Phillip.

The highlight of the Andros tour, however, was not a destination, but it was a big deal. It was a dilly! While we were chatting and driving around in the car, Diamond, happily jumping into our conversation the further we drove, suddenly blurted out “Have you guys tried a dilly yet?” I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I didn’t even know what a dilly was. Is it a food? Is it a dance? A local handshake? I could confidently say to Diamond, “No, I have not tried a dilly yet.” With a gleam in her eye, her mom Kenedra (without saying a word) drove several roads leaning forward and looking up and out the windshield to the left and right, finally pulled off near a particular tree. No sooner than she put it in park, Diamond busted out of the car and started sprinting toward a very tall, bushy tree and began whacking at the upper branches with a long stick. Phillip and I exchanged a fun “What’s the dilly-yo?”glance as Kenedra followed her daughter and started whacking too.

Unfortunately, just as soon as it became clear to us they were trying to knock some type of fruit off of the tree for us to try, Kenedra said: “I tink dey all been picked ooh-vuh.” But Diamond would not give up. She kept scrambling, kept whacking, until we finally heard a muffled voice from within the cavern of the fauna. “I got one!” Diamond cried as she came running out, her spoils in hand: a perfectly ripe dilly fruit. Kenedra and Diamond eyed us as we eyed the fruit. Diamond cracked it in half with her hands (a dilly is roughly the consistently of a firm kiwi on the outside, an almost ripe peach on the inside). The two halves were a bright, blazing orange.

Definitely a fruit I had never seen before. The word guava came to mind, but then I remembered those are green on the outside, pink on the inside. This dilly was totally different. But, the taste was very similar.

Mmmm guava … I thought as the super sweet interior slipped down my throat. Phillip and I ate both of our halves right there on the side of the road in Andros, getting all sticky-fingered without even caring, and we still note it as one our favorite “bites” of the entire trip.

I think it was the combination of the surprise and newness Andros offered, the generosity of our hosts, and Diamond’s enthusiasm to share something of her local community with new friends. All of it came together to culminate in the perfect sweet treat. As we said goodbye to Kenedra and Diamond and dinghied back to our boat, Phillip and I agreed that’s what Andros felt like to us: the perfect sweet treat. New, unexpected, and rewarding.

Andros, we will definitely be back. Next up, we’ll weigh anchor from (Captain) Morgan’s Bluff and make our way to our first island in the Exumas! Man, so much work and effort has gone into bringing the boat to this point. I still get thrills now just remembering and writing about it. Stay tuned!

Fish Off the Hook – MY Scariest Moment of the Trip

August 3, 2019August 3, 2019anniedike

Do you see it in the photo? That fish is off the hook! Literally! Looking back, I still can’t believe Phillip and I actually got that one into the cockpit, but the pics are proof: WE DID!

Ahoy followers! After that stretchy sidebar, it’s now time to get back to our Bahamas saga. When we last left our hapless crew, Phillip and I (well, actually I) had just accomplished my best de-docking ever leaving Bimini (and, don’t worry, there will be plenty more not-so-great dockings after). We were heading out early in the morning after a five-day hunker-down (that’s a military term I think) in Bimini when we had some steady east winds upwards of 18 kts on us for several days. While it did make for some great kiting in Bimini, after five days, most of the boats on our pier were ready to toss the lines and get going.

The winds were predicted to be a light ESE, that Philip and I were hoping would turn more south than east. (And, I hope you’ll notice my clever “hope” foreshadowing here. As is often the case when we try to predict the wind, we are wrong. I would call it bad foreblowing as opposed to foreshadowing but I wouldn’t want to entice toooo many foul jokes : ). The winds were nice enough to start. We were hauling away from Bimini toward our entrance into the Great Bahamas Bank with plans to make an overnight passage to either the west harbor on Nassau or—if things were going well on the passage—all the way to the Exumas, which was our ultimate goal this first leg of the trip. Always good to have planned “outs” and “plan Bs” at the ready.

It was a brisk romp in about 18kts of breeze (not what we expected, so much for the foreblowing) but it was comfortable making our way toward the Great Bahamas Bank.

Phillip and I are still very pleased with our decision to trade out our whopping 135% genoa for our 90% offshore working jib when we’re cruising island to island (or country to country) and know we’ll be doing a good bit of offshore cruising. Unlike “Genny,” our little “Wendy” (aptly named by one of my HaveWind followers) is super sporty and rarely gets overpowered. It was really a fun day sailing all the way into the Great Bahamas Bank and beyond.

While I didn’t expect it, after spending only five days and four nights on the dock in Bimini, I had already missed offshore voyaging. That may sound a little silly having just crossed the Gulf Stream to get to Bimini, I’m serious! When you actually get going and find yourself weighing anchor (or tossing the lines) and getting the boat moving—to an entirely new location—every 3-4 days, 5 days starts to seem just one to many. The moment you’re back offshore, moving again, you realize how much you missed it.

And, it didn’t hurt that the stars over the Bahamas Bank that night were just decadent. A white smattering of them, like salt on the sky. And, I remember seeing several shooting stars that evening (and making several wishes). That I cannot share! (It’s a Star Pact.)

The next morning, I had the sunrise shift, which is totally fine with me. I love the shift where the sky transitions from night to day. It’s amazing to watch it change seemingly slowly at first and then so quickly. It still stuns me sometimes—when Phillip and I are in work mode, doing all of our busy marketing and lawyer work on land, where we don’t see near as many sunrises and sunsets as when we’re on the boat cruising—that this still happens out there. Out there, every morning (when it is clear), the sky turns from this velvety purple, to mind-boggling magenta, to a warm welcoming pinkish-yellow. Every day. Whether you see it or not. It’s not like wondering whether a tree that falls in the forest makes a sound. No. I’m confident every single sunrise is beautiful, exquisite, whether seen or not.

But, that serene “Ahhh … life is wonderful” Annie-moment didn’t last long as we were coming towards the entry into the Northwest Providence Channel and the Tongue of the Ocean. In reality, it is a rather wide entrance. But, when a barge is coming through at the very same time, it is a rather narrow entrance. Phillip had only been asleep about 40 minutes when I was debating waking him again. Not that we try to be prideful, in not needingto wake the other crew member (known on our boat as the “other captain” : ) up—well, Phillip might be … a tad … he still is a Marine, or helpful, in letting the other person sleep more when we know they are tired.

No. On Plaintiff’s Restwe try to always follow the standing “When to Wake the Captain Rule” which I have written on before. That rule is: It’s time to wake the Captain when you’ve thought: Maybe I should wake the Captain. Standing rule. Applies all the time.

And, with a 600-foot barge coming toward the NW Providence Channel inlet the exact same time I was with a CPA (closest point of approach on our AIS) narrowing from 0.8 of a mile to 0.6 down to 0.3 in about 20 minutes, I knew it was time to wake my “other captain.” While Phillip was not thrilled with his 40-minute-only nap, he is always very diligent in getting up and getting alert quickly when there is a potential issue. Although this one was a little embarrassing in that by the time we passed the barge just before the entrance, it was clear 0.4 nm apart is a perfectly safe distance in the daytime with everyone motoring along in calm seas. The entrance to the channel suddenly felt monstrously wide leaving me plenty of room, which mighthave left me a little embarrassed for having woke Phillip. But, I was not. This is the very reason for the rule. It alleviates the need to feel embarrassed or ashamed. (And I like it that way.)

But that little “adventure” was just the start of our harrowing day which turned out to be MY scariest moment of the entire trip. I have written about Phillip’s before. It was our “Auto Turn-Notto” dilemma before we left for the Bahamas (which, granted, was before we left for our trip) but that was Phillip’s answer when he was asked: “What was your scariest moment of the trip?” That was his. This was mine.

As we started to make our way into the Tongue of the Ocean, things got a little bumpy. The predicted “light” ESE winds were 18+ kts right on the nose. While Phillip and I had been hoping they would turn south sooner as predicted, they had not. And, ironically, although they had been blowing like stink dead out of the east for days, we would have welcomed an east wind now as it would have been more on our beam, rather than the nose. But, nope. We had those two kinds of winds that often occur together: winds of the wrong speed and in the wrong direction. “My favorite!” said no sailor ever.

While we were … somewhat comfortable … it was a bit of a bash-around bumpy ride, and the thought of continuing in that fashion for another 6-7 hours to Nassau or (worse) another 18-24 to the Exumas was … not very appealing. After some discussion, thought, and chart-checking, Phillip and I decided to pull into Andros. We had never been there before, but a good friend of ours from back in Pensacola (Captain Jack if you’re listening – here’s your “shout-out!”) had highly recommended it as a more untouched part of the Bahamas and a great spot for kitesurfing. Two things we love to find the most while traveling: tranquility and kite access. So, we decided to head for a new anchorage to us, a place we had not originally intended to go during this trip to the Bahamas, but NOT “going with the weather” was a lesson we had learned in the past.

The wind and seas were telling us to get out of this mess, so that is exactly what we chose to do. Morgan’s Bluff looked like a safe little harbor that would offer us awesome protection from the ESE and S winds for the evening while this stuff blew over.

It seemed, from the info in the charts, there was not much to do ashore, but we didn’t care. Phillip and I can make a lot of fun out of “not much” if we need to, and that’s only if we need. We are perfectly content to sip sundowners in the cockpit, cook aboard, and watch the sun go down. So, it was Morgan’s Bluff or bust!

But, that also meant coming into a new, narrow entrance in some kicked-up seas with winds on the nose knocking the boat all around. Good times. While the B&G chartplotter showed a nice little curve of an inlet with plenty of depth and very clear markers for it, that map was for FantasyLand! In reality, there were no markers in sight. Although this is common in many places in the Bahamas (they simply don’t have the government funding, or the need, to maintain navigation markers as rigorously as we do in the states), it’s often not a big deal because the Explorer Charts are soooo accurate. If I haven’t stressed that point strongly enough, I’ll happily do it again: If you’re planning to go to the Bahamas, get and study the Explorer Charts before you go and use them while you navigate! www.explorercharts.com.

Phillip was at the helm while I was religiously trying to match the lats and lons on the Explorer Charts to what was showing on the B&G as we made our way into Morgan’s Bluff in Andros. Maybe for some of you this is easy (following lats and lons on a diagonal). Annie proved to be not so good at it. To my credit, I asked Phillip to let me helm this time on the way in while he navigated (since I did such a piss-poor job of it when we made our way into Bimini) but he said he was “in the zone.” I would have loved to have been in his zone, because I was totally screwing up my zone. I don’t know how else to explain it other than a brain fart.

For some reason I was watching and monitoring the lats just fine, counting each degree as one, but stupidly my brain decided to attribute ten degrees to every one on the lons so I had us coming in almost dead from the north straight toward Morgan’s Bluff as opposed to making a wide curve to the east and coming in inside the inlet.

This is the actual, natural channel you *should* take into Morgan’s Bluff.

This is the haphazard path I had us on which was littered with little “x’s” on the chart to mark rocks. : O

Once I realized my mistake I could see we were weaving through some rocks along our path toward the harbor with no seemingly safe space to turn around, so there was just nothing we could do but hope the rocks were deep enough not to cause any problems. That was one of the worst gut-wrenching moments I’ve had on our boat, feeling the boat rise and fall with the waves and thinking I might be the cause of our keel striking a rock. It literally made me feel sick, and I hope I never have that feeling again (although I’m sure I will). The only other time I’ve felt physically ill because of something that might happen to the boat was when Hurricane Nate was seemingly making its way to Pensacola in 2017. Yuck.

I will also go ahead and admit here I didn’t disclose the full gravity of our situation to Phillip at that time for two reasons: 1) I knew we couldn’t change or improve it at that point so why worry him further, I thought; and 2) I became too distracted anyway when right as we were bashing through the hairiest part, we got a

FISH ON!!!

Isn’t that when it always happens? Phillip and I had been trolling the entire time since we left Pensacola, all the way around the Florida Keys, across the Gulf Stream, and once again when we got into the Tongue of the Ocean, and that entire time fish after fish had bitten off our lure. Phillip and I joked often—when people, in person or on Facebook asked whether we’d caught any fish on the trip: “Of we’ve done plenty of fishing,” we’d say. “We just haven’t done any catching.” And, it’s true. We lost lure after lure to those feisty fish in the Gulf. I had to laugh thinking all those hours we spent when we were sailing over tothe Bahamas, in calm seas just watching the fishing line hoping for a bite, reeling it in time and again “just to check” we’d say, and throwing it back out. Any of those times would have been the perfect time to snag a big fish. But, no, Neptune has to throw one our way when we’re beating and bashing along, off of the safe path (thanks Annie), making our way into a new, unknown harbor. That’s the perfect time to be hauling in a fish!

So, haul we did! I took the helm and Phillip started pulling slowly and steadily winding our hand reel in. I will say I was grateful for the excitement of the fish in that moment to dissipate some of my boat nerves. In that sense the fish was a blessing. But, boy was he a monster?! Here’s one quick little video of him popping out of the water.

The first time I saw him zip to the outside of the boat, breach the surface and sink back down, I knew he was big. Phillip could tell by how hard he was having to pull—using his entire body to arch back to get some length in the line so he could then fold the hand reel over to get another 10 inches on the guy.

It was a slow and steady fight but Phillip finally brought him close enough where I could try to gaff him, which can be very hard to do with a fighting monster three feet below you, on a bobbing, swaying boat. But I finally got him right under the gills and by some wicked twist of fate it was at that very moment the hook came out of his mouth, which meant my gaff was the onlything standing between us and the biggest fish we’ve ever seen behind Plaintiff’s Rest. I was terrified he was going to kick and flail and fight his way off—and, believe me, he tried—but I kept turning the hook in hopes it would hold—and, thankfully, it DID! When I hauled that bloody beast over the lifesling (leaving a nasty bloody trail on it but I didn’t give a you-know-what) and flopped him into the cockpit floor, Phillip let out a “Holy crap, that guy is huge!” And he was. That was the biggest fish we have caught to date on Plaintiff’s Rest. He was as long as my leg! And, that’s not a tall fish tale. We have proof!

That photo, however, was the second picture I made Phillip take because I wanted to capture the full length of that guy before I hacked him up and, in trying to do so the first time, the fish flipped off my gaff right when Phillip clicked the camera. So, we captured a fish in mid-air!

It was such a wild, heart-pumping moment pulling that guy in while bashing our way into Andros, scary but fun, frightening but exhilarating. Cruising often feels like that. All the times between the leisure, lavish cocktails-and-bikini days. How did my friend Pat define cruising? Oh yeah: Serene, tropical days interspersed with moments of sheer terror. Yeah, that about sums it up. Oh, that and the fish! I made a bloodbath of our cockpit cleaning that big boy up.

But look at that filet. It’s bigger than my thigh! (And I’ve got some meaty thighs!)

As Phillip and I often do when we catch a fish that big, we cut up equally-sized (to the best of our ability) filets and bag some for the fridge, but more for the freezer so we can enjoy fresh fish at any time during our travels. The Mahi we cooked up that night, was probably some of the best fish we had during our entire trip to the Bahamas. (I’m sure the sheer terror of the moment combined with the monstrous fight getting him into the boat, followed by the hour-long cleaning of the fish, then the boat had some impact on the flavor, but it was a well-earned reward).

And, I kid you not, that fish fed Phillip and I, two filets each (at least, sometimes 2-3), six dinners over during our Bahamas trip. It had to be 8-9 pounds of edible fish. That guy was such a blessing! A long-awaited one, and certainly a wildly ill-timed one, but a blessing all the same!

Thank you Neptune!!

Next up, we’ll share one of our favorite new places in the Bahamas. A spot Phillip and I never thought we would stop at this trip but one we cannot wait to go back to explore further: the beautiful, untouched, but well-resourced, Andros. Stay tuned!