2005.1 - Abaco, Bahamas

LOG OF THE TOP CAT 03 :: MAY 27- JUNE 5 2005

I can honestly say I have been planning this cruise since I was 12. It was 1971, my family was vacationing around Treasure Cay, and it seemed like paradise – so different from the waters of Lake Michigan where we lived and kept our boat. I looked at all the cruising yachts anchored in the clear warm water and knew this was for me. At age 45 I could wait no longer! Finally I had a little time, a little money, a boat, and most importantly, a brave and capable crew, in the form of Jayne, my wife and cruising companion.

Jayne and I bought Top Cat, a 1999 Glacier Bay 2670 Island Runner, in February of 2004. After a 375-mile shakedown cruise delivering her from Key West to our home port in Vero Beach, we spent a year fitting out, customizing, and gaining experience with the boat. Now we felt ready to go on our first real cruise – 2 weeks in the Bahamas, specifically back to the Abacos that had haunted me all these years. We had made several long-weekend type trips over to the islands in our previous boat, a 22-foot single engine outboard, always in convoy with other boats, but now we felt we could go it alone. We chose the Glacier Bay with cruising in mind – we needed a trailerable boat, and wanted one suitable for serious fishing and diving as well as cruising. Top Cat is a very confidence inspiring little vessel – built like a tank, very nice rough water ride, and the twin engines each have completely independent fuel and electric systems. The accommodations are tight, but sufficient. A comfortable bigger-than –queen size berth and an electric head make up the cabin, and everything else takes place in the cockpit, which we rigged with plenty of shade and screens. Our plan was to stay on the boat always, and anchor out most nights.

MAY 27 - After weeks of obsessive planning, and days of packing, we departed from Stuart, Florida at 0800. Gear and supplies were stuffed in every nook and cranny, and a 2-person kayak strapped to the hardtop. I’m sure we are over the weight capacity the builder recommends, but we will start losing weight fast, almost 3 pounds of fuel per minute at cruising speed. We set our course for the west edge of the Little Bahama Bank, 55 miles east.

The run across the Gulf Stream was a bit choppy, with a headsea of 2-3 feet. We stopped at the middle of the Stream to scatter the ashes of my father, fulfilling a long-delayed promise. He was a lifetime yachtsman who loved boats and the water, and it seemed particularly fitting that we honor him on our first cruise. About 15 miles from the Bank, Jayne spotted a floating board in a sparse weedline, and we put out a couple of baits and quickly had a nice dolphin hooked up. That one shook off, but we did manage two smaller specimens, just right for dinner for two. Upon reaching the Little Bahama Bank in the vicinity of White Sand Ridge, we set a course for Walkers Cay, another 65 miles east. We arrive at Walkers in the middle of a rainsquall – and stand off for a while until it passes. Even this early in our cruising career, we have learned to wait until conditions are such that you can “read the water” before attempting any even remotely tricky approach. Aids to navigation in the Bahamas are spotty at best, and a small error can be rewarded with a bent propeller or worse.

Hurricane Jeanne in 2004 has dealt the final blow to Walkers. The resort and marina are closed and for sale – only the Customs office remains at the airstrip. We tie up and begin the Bahamian customs and immigration process, which seems to consist of writing the same information on about a half dozen different forms. Along with several others, I wait in the sun while the customs officials finish a spirited game of backgammon, and then they are ready to do official business. It is a great introduction to the concept of “Island Time” and reminds you that you are in the Bahamas now! We pull down the yellow Q-flag and hoist the Bahamian courtesy flag to indicate that we are officially cleared in. Then off to nearby Grand Cay to buy 100 gallons of gas at four bucks a gallon, and a few grocery items we managed to forget. While our 150 hp Suzuki 2 strokes are excellent motors, and are as reliable as gravity, fuel efficient they are not! Gasoline is far and away our greatest expense. We got anchored up at Double Breasted Cay for the night, and had an excellent dinner of dolphin with peas and rice. Our galley arrangement is very simple. We cook in the cockpit on a single burner butane stove or on a small propane BBQ. Our perishables are stored in a terrific, although very expensive, cooler made by Frigid Rigid, which will keep ice virtually forever. Double Breasted is one of many anchorages in the Abacos with a strong current that switches with the tide. For that reason, we practice what is called a “Bahama Moor” with 2 anchors, one set upcurrent and one set downcurrent, and both cleated off to the bow, so the boat can swing with the current. I snorkel down to make sure both anchors are firmly set.

Top Cat – ready to launch

May 28 - This morning we launch the “dingy” and kayak around Double Breasted, a beautiful little archipelago with a huge bird nesting colony and pure white sand flats and beaches. It is easy to see why it is considered one of the prettiest anchorages in the islands. After our long day yesterday, we have a leisurely plan for today, to work our way east and south just behind the barrier reef about 30 miles to Moraine Cay. This route is not found on any cruising guide, and is full of coral heads and shifting sandbars. This is tricky navigation compared to the more straightforward route on the Little Bahama Bank, but gives us the chance to do some nice snorkeling. With snorkel gear and a pole spear (no spearguns or scuba are allowed for fishing), it is no strain at all to feed yourself in the Bahamas. We get a couple of big hogfish and 12 conch near Carters Cay, but the weather is closing in, with rain on the horizon and a strong south wind. We find our planned anchorage at Moraine Cay a bit too exposed, so we go another 5 miles to Allans-Pensacola Cay. We get anchored up here just in time for a tremendous lightning show and downpour, but we are quite well protected, this time swinging on two bow anchors set about 45 degrees apart. I am a little obsessive about anchoring, and tend towards overkill. I get it from my dad, who routinely took cross bearings and posted an anchor watch. But I’ve never dragged anchor – yet. We put the fish on ice and decide to have cracked conch for dinner tonight, again with peas and rice, a Bahamian staple. Some of the rest of the conch gets made into conch salad for lunch tomorrow. Around the middle of the night the wind quit blowing and a cloud of no-see-ums came out. We were forced to apply bug spray for the first and only time the whole trip.

Aerial view of Double Breasted Cay

Double Breasted Cay anchorage at sunset

May 29 - There seem to be two basic forms of boaters here in the Abacos, the cruisers and the fishermen. The fishermen run fast and hard to get where they are going, many of them putting in 200 plus mile days. They fish hard all day, and generally want to get the heck off the boat at night. To the slower sailboats and trawlers, getting there is half the fun and most of the day is spent comfortably plodding along. We have decided to adopt a middle strategy. Although we cruise at 25-30 knots, we are mostly going to do short 30-40 mile days. This gives us plenty of time to sleep in, have a nice breakfast, stop and sightsee and snorkel, and still get where we are going in plenty of time. Today we run the traditional route across the Bank from Allens-Pensacola to Green Turtle Cay, and stay at Black Sound Marina. The proprietor, Carroll, is a wonderful fellow and tells us all the places to see in nearby New Plymouth, a historic and quaint settlement. It is Sunday however, and virtually everything is closed. We take a walking tour about town and see the sculpture garden with bronze busts of all the early pioneers of New Plymouth, British Loyalists who were run out of America following the Revolutionary War. There is a lot of history in the Bahamas. We have drinks at the marina with a couple on a huge sailing catamaran – their beam is bigger than our LOA! In the morning we do some laundry, have breakfast in town, and get ready to head out to the next destination.

The Town of New Plymouth, Green Turtle Cay

May 30 - Today is a short run down to Guana Cay, through the infamous Whale Cay Passage. This passage can get really rough when the wind blows against the tide and creates what the Bahamians call a “rage on the bar”. It was a little sporty today, but not too bad. The Glacier Bay really eats up a steep chop, and we ease on past some big center console fishboats that are pounding and getting wet. I resist the temptation to gloat. At Guana, we pick up a mooring in Settlement Harbor. I like moorings – you don’t spend all night obsessing over the wind direction and if the anchor might be dragging, or if your boat neighbor is going to drag into you. For 15 bucks a night, a great deal. We find here we can pick up some stray wireless Internet signal from a nearby yacht, and email all our family to let them know we are fine. We launch the trusty kayak and paddle into shore to visit Nippers, the legendary local bar, home to a weekly pig roast that reportedly draws over a thousand people every Sunday. But today is Monday, and things are quiet. There is a fabulous beach on the ocean side, and we go for a long walk. It seems the entire island here is up in arms about a proposed mega-development with golf courses and condos for rich gringos. Everywhere we go there are signs saying “No golf on Guana” and “Save the reef”. Good for them. I wish them luck. Development pressure seems to be everywhere.

The beach at Nipper’s - Guana Cay

May 31 - This morning we go for a snorkel at Fowl Cay, a Bahamas Land and Sea Park preserve. A gorgeous reef, with huge coral heads towering up vertically all the way to the surface from the white sand 20 feet below. The reef itself is nice, but where are all the big fish? I had expected to see lots of big groupers and such in a preserve where nobody is shooting at them. We head on down to Marsh Harbor, the largest town in Abaco, with almost 5000 residents (believe it or not, that makes it the third largest settlement in all of the Bahamas). We arrive just in time for another blinding rainsquall, which have been a daily occurrence. But all the rain we have had has been in the form of brief, intense downpours, which I choose to regard as a free boat rinse in a country where you pay 20 cents a gallon for fresh water from the dockside spigot. And it does cool things down nicely. Maybe we are already turning into anti-civilization hermits, but something rubs me the wrong way about Marsh Harbor. The marinas are expensive – it costs us eighty bucks to tie up our dinky little 26 foot boat for the night – and all the restaurants nearby are high priced as well. We finally find a really nice reasonable dinner at a little restaurant, Jamie’s Place, and I am somewhat mollified. In the morning, we walk to the grocery store (a very impressive one called Price Mart) and do some laundry, interrupted by a power failure. We buy 120 gallons of gas at $4.40 a gallon.

June 01 - We are getting near the midpoint of our little cruise, and are now fully reprovisioned and fueled. This area is called the “Hub of Abaco”, with lots of must-see destinations within just a few miles of each other. The Hub is ground zero for the cruising community, and all ears are on the cruiser net on VHF channel 68 at 8:15 every morning for news, weather, gossip, and help with problems large and small. Tired of waiting for the power to come back on in Marsh Harbor, we pack up our still soggy laundry and head over to Hopetown, only about 8 miles away across the Sea of Abaco. Here we pick up a mooring and load our laundry into the kayak in search of a laundromat that has a generator, as the power is also out in Hopetown. We find one, and also find that Hopetown is an absolute paradise, with a perfectly protected harbor, cute little cottages with spectacular views, and (like everywhere else we have been in the Bahamas) friendly people. We decide we love it here, and vow to stay an extra day.

Laundry run – Hope Town

June 2 - Laying over on our mooring at Hopetown, we sleep in, read our books, chat with our boat neighbors, and explore the town. I am basically a go-go-go type of guy, always thinking about the next destination. Jayne has been struggling to remind me that we are not in a hurry – this is cruising. So we do the tourist thing. Jayne was able to buy some of the Androsia batik she has been looking for, and we visit the historic lighthouse. Built in the 1840’s, it still has the original pressurized kerosene lamp and Fresnel lens. The view from the top is an awesome panorama of Hopetown, the Sea of Abaco, and the Atlantic Ocean reefs. We hook up with some people on another Glacier Bay catamaran just like ours, and make plans for dinner. After seeing their (spotless) boat, we realize ours is filthy from a week of salt and fishing and are shamed into some serious cleaning.

The anchorage at Hope Town

June 3 - Today we start the trip homeward, island hopping back west towards Florida. We had heard some nice things about Munjack (also called Nunjack and Manjack) Cay from our boat neighbors in Marsh Harbor, and decide to head there, about 45 miles. Whale Cay Passage had a pretty good “Rage” on, so we decided to instead take a small boat only alternative route called Don’t Rock Passage. It’s only about 3 or 4 feet deep at best, and marked only by the very conspicuous and steep sided Don’t Rock. Arriving at Munjack, there was a cove at the north end of the cay with a pretty sand beach. We tucked ourselves in at the very head of the cove, in just a couple of feet of water.

One nice thing about cruising in a small boat is that you can always find room in an anchorage by taking the spots too shallow for the big boys. And we can take shortcuts and explore places where others fear to tread, since we can run in 2 feet of water and float in a foot and a half. We kayaked in to shore and went for a long hike along the beach and on a trail that went through the center of the uninhabited island. In the cove where we were anchored, stingrays and small blacktip sharks were cruising over the white sand flats, and the shelling and beachcombing on the deserted beach was super. We spent another very comfortable night at anchor with a nice breeze blowing down the hatches. With conditions like we have had on this trip, who needs AC? So many people are tied to the docks at marinas because they have to have that AC running, or worse yet, disrupt the quiet of some magical little anchorage with their generators. We take a lesson from the sailboaters and use those fabric wind scoop “breeze boosters” to funnel extra breeze into the cabin, and have invested in good screens to get breeze without bugs. By 9 or 10 o’clock, after we have had our cocktails and watched the stars come out, it has cooled down enough to sleep comfortably. And if you get hot during the day, the world’s largest swimming pool is just a step or two away.

June 4 - Today we are bound for Great Sale Cay, about a 60 mile run. Great Sale is kind of out in the middle of nowhere, and it is a popular jumping off or landing spot for sailboats and trawlers crossing over from Florida. We make a gas stop in Foxtown, the last outpost of civilization as you go west on Abaco. It was tricky to navigate the rocks and shoals to reach the fuel dock, but we topped up on gas for the trip home (80 gallons at $4.20 a gallon) and got a bag of ice. When we arrive at Great Sale, the wind is picking up, the anchorage there seems too exposed, and I am concerned about whether or not I have a prudent amount of fuel for the crossing of the Gulf Stream to Stuart tomorrow, a run of 120 miles. In theory we have plenty, but the Gulf Stream is no place to run out of gas, and the reports we are getting indicate that the crossing might be rough, which can substantially increase the fuel consumption on a small boat like ours. Jayne and I look at the charts and she suggests that we detour another 60 miles to West End on Grand Bahama Island, where we can buy some additional gas and where we will have a shorter run home tomorrow. We will also have better geometry for crossing the Gulf Stream, getting a slight boost from the current rather than crossing perpendicular to it. So off we go, getting to West End about 4:00. We buy 40 gallons of “insurance” gas at $3.65 a gallon, which by now seems like quite the bargain. We didn’t have time to forage for our dinner today, so we bought some conch from a local boat, and got anchored up just north of Old Bahama Bay marina. This was a tricky spot to get into, and the tidal current really roars through, so a “Bahama Moor” is needed again. Holding is not so great – I am forced to snorkel down with a hammer to spud the anchors in to some little crevices in the limestone bottom, as the sand layer is too thin to get a good “sand bite”. Finally anchored to my obsessively excessive satisfaction, we have cocktails and cracked conch for dinner. The wind is cranking tonight, and we are glad we are not in the wide-open anchorage at Great Sale. Around sunset, we hear a trawler calling Old Bahama Bay for assistance. He is disabled near Mangrove Cay, about 30 miles away, and is looking for a tow to West End. Nobody is going out tonight, so he will have to spend a roly-poly night out on the Banks. At least it is shallow enough to anchor there.

June 5 - Up early today for the 80 mile crossing back to Florida. It is raining and windy, and does not seem too promising. We call on VHF 16 for any vessel crossing the Stream to get a condition report. A Nordhavn 46 trawler comes back and says he just crossed from Stuart and conditions were “delightful”. Since the Nordhavn is a passage making monster built to circle the world, we take that with a grain of salt. But it turns out to be not too bad, with a sloppy, swelly 3-4 foot sea from the southeast. Top Cat can handle this kind of sea about as well as any 26 foot boat you can find. We are able to run 25 mph, dodging a few squalls, and I am well pleased. We find a flock of birds diving and actually see some tuna (yellowfin?) breaking the surface, but by the time we get some baits in the water, they are gone. After arriving in Stuart, clearing American customs and immigration (a tedious process), getting home and unloading the boat, we collapse in a heap. Both Jayne and I declare it our best vacation ever!

The cruising bug has definitely bit, and bit hard. Now we are saving up to repower Top Cat with some more efficient engines and do Andros and the Exumas for a month. Maybe we’ll see you out there.

A nice weedline in the Gulf Stream on the way home