Shallow Water, Deep Connections
Heading from the BVIs to Turks and Caicos was not fun. We weren’t sure we would make it in time to meet our friends, but we took the ‘best’ weather window (in sailing, best doesn’t always = good) and set out for an overnighter. The waves were high and we pounded into them; I felt ill and alternated between complaining and sleeping.
We made it with a day to spare, and the bad conditions and seasickness are mostly relegated to distant memory. Arriving in T&C seemed a bit perilous because the islands are surrounded by reefs. In a few weeks we would be used to it, but at this moment, a narrow, shallow entry meant all hands on deck, scoping out the best possible route.
The next day we had visitors! Tricia and Jamie are great friends we’ve shared various boating adventures with over the years, from an overnight on our previous boat on the Eastern Shore, to a wine festival in St. Michaels where we were pulled over by the coast guard on the way home (story for another time), a birthday dinner cruise that ended in torrential wind and rain and a taxi home, to many happy hour cruises around Annapolis. So it was very exciting to welcome them aboard Big Em!
We anchored off of Grace Bay Beach, a miles-long stretch of sand and resorts. Russ, Jordan, Jamie, Tricia and I took the dinghy to explore a shipwreck on a reef and the boys, always in search of tetanus adventure, climbed aboard. The clear waters of T&C have a pretty big tide, and we enjoyed exploring the little inlets by dinghy. We didn’t have the best luck visiting the beach, though, as all of the chairs and umbrellas are private and we felt like vagabonds, turned away from every private beach club. We finally found a spot to set up our chairs and umbrellas, but we got our exercise and a lesson in humility on the way.
The time with Tricia and Jamie felt like our own vacation—dinners out, sunset cocktails and lots of catching up. We returned them to the dock with tans and smiles, sad to see them go. It was at this point that we needed to get into a marina slip for a bit to see if we could fix something. After a calm docking at the fuel dock and to cheers as a female captain, we underestimated the wind and current. The slip we wanted was taken and the slip they directed us to had the wind and current pushing us off the dock.
It was a disaster. We got into the slip but lines were thrown and not caught, and within seconds the current and wind pushed us down onto the boat next to us, there was a piling behind us blocking our exit, and we finally scraped out - literally - with scars on the boat and my confidence. I will never forget Gus on the bow, holding a fender between us and the boat we were pushed onto, apologizing profusely at only an arms length away.
The dent in the stern we call the shark bite and a 6 -foot scrape on the port hull both required fiberglass repair in Panama over the summer. Luckily, we didn’t hurt the other boat and our own scrapes didn’t hinder our sailing itinerary. But it was a tense, scary moment and we learned a lot of tough lessons. As friends put it, “every docking is a controlled crash” and we must carry on.
The next morning we left for the Bahamas, a windy trip with a quick overnight in a protected area where we slept but didn’t leave the boat.
Our first stop in the Bahamas was Crooked Island. It’s southeast in a little cluster of islands that form the Acklins Bight. It only got electricity in the 90s, and has a few hundred residents, a couple of small mini-markets and maybe a couple of restaurants. They cut a little fishing port out of the reef and with the swells coming in, it made for a harrowing entrance in the dinghy. We rolled both nights at anchor but we did enjoy some island hospitality.
We had a little beach day and I needed to get some groceries (this is a need one should never have in small Bahamian out-islands)so Jordan and I started walking to the only store. A lovely American couple stopped and offered us a ride. It was hot and we gladly said yes, getting into the back of a car that is definitely older than me. They waited at the store for us and drove us back when we were done.
Meanwhile at the beach, a shark was spotted very close to shore, and that was the end of that.
So the next day we moved on in search of calmer waters and we found the holy grail of Bahamas life at the Hog Cay Yacht Club on Ragged Island. The Raggeds are a little chain of islands separated from Cuba by about 80 miles of shallow reef. Approximately 27 people live on Ragged Island. Most structures were never repaired after the most recent hurricane (which was about five years ago) and the miniature mini-market is for emergencies only. Those in the know order ahead for grocery delivery directly from the mail boat. The market is attached to someone’s home, with an old fridge as the only cold storage. We found a stick of butter and hot dogs, wilted lettuce and dimpled cucumbers, but the owner was very excited to tell me they had beets. Puzzled but hopeful, I walked the ten steps around the store again and still didn’t see any fresh produce. She led me to a box of canned beets in the back. Disappointed but not enough to dampen her excitement, I bought one can. Along with five other items, my total came to about $100 USD. This is why one should never need groceries in the Bahamas!
But the Hog Cay Yacht Club was simply amazing. The only initiation fee Is the time and wherewithal to get there. It’s a modest wooden structure with a thatched roof, maintained by cruisers and locals on a white sand beach, lined with homemade boat signs and painted conch shells. A fire pit is dug into the sand, old buoys decorate the trees, tables and chairs are years-old donations. The kids have taken over the sand cliffs and caves nearby and play for hours everyday Lord of the Rings-style. People meet and sit in the shade all day long, watching time pass by.
On our first night at the communal bonfire we met four other kid-boats, and Hannah found a new nanny position. We had recently decided to part ways when we reached Mexico, and she had connected with a family on the Nauti-Kids Caribbean WhatsApp group. Serendipitously, we pulled into the anchorage and there they were! Several days of hanging out with them and she got the job, even moving some of her things aboard before we left for Cuba.
For five days we lived our best Bahamian life. The kids were pirates, soldiers, kings and queens by day, and set up their own beach nightclub after dark. They dinghy’d around the anchorage sans adults, picking each other up like an on-water uber-share. We hiked the deserted island where old shoes mark the trail, made new friends and enjoyed long talks with old ones, and finally had to leave because we were running out of food and Gus’ sister was joining us in Cuba. The Big Emoceans sign is hung in the yacht club, so next time you find yourself on a tiny speck of sand in the middle of the Caribbean 80 miles from Cuba, send us a photo!
