We left Staniel Cay on February 6th and headed about 9 miles south-ish to Black Point on Great Guana Cay. A couple of things that Black Point offered that Staniel Cay did not was free drinking water, a very short dinghy ride to shore, and a blow hole. And you can bet that the first thing we did was find that blow hole! The blow hole was exactly what it sounds like. If you sit and just watch it for a while, you notice that every time it blows out water, it catches the light and creates a rainbow. I mean, how sweet is that? Anytime, you want to see a rainbow, you can just come to this spot.
That evening we watched the sunset and tried our hand at night fishing again. Blake had been reading about fishing tactics so we put some food scraps in a bag with my brick and hung it over the side of the boat along with some of our inflatable lights. We caught something but will never know what because it took off with Blake’s lure under the boat and snapped the line. It’s a good thing we are not dependent on fish for survival because we would be dead by now.
The next morning we went to Ida’s Rockside Laundromat and did laundry and accessed the Wifi while we waited. You know, there were so many informative things on the wall, except for how to work the machines. They didn’t take American or Bahamian quarters; eventually we figured out you have to get a special coin from Ida or the grocery store down the street and it’s about $8.25 per load (wash and dry).
After a couple of blogs were posted and laundry was done, we decided to spend the afternoon fishing. We caught a couple of red hinds and a needlefish. We tossed them all back into the water. We learned later from a local fisherman that red hinds are very meaty and great eating. We really regretted tossing those back. The best part of the whole fishing excursion were the goats…yes, I said goats. There was a family of goats walking along the rock ledge, including two babies that were just the cutest as they hopped from rock to rock.
We awoke the next morning to flat water and a light breeze. I was on the paddleboard before Blake could say, “Good Morning.” This time I got to watch turtles swim around and starfish lined the white sandy bottom. Blake went out after me and spotted a couple of nurse sharks and some rays. We were so enamored by the beauty of that day that we decided to go on a hike to a rock that is supposed to resemble white horseheads or something like that. The hike started on the road which led to the beach then to different kinds of rocks; it was amazing to me how diverse the terrain was in just a three-to-four-mile stretch.
To every high there is a low, and the low on this hike, and this journey, is the plastic strewn along the beaches. From micro-plastics, which are tiny plastic pieces to large plastic bags and crates. There is a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness. If we pick it up and put it in a plastic bag to throw away, where will it go? We have seen and smelled burning trash on different islands at the dump sites. It’s toxic but we have become so dependent on plastic, especially single use plastic that our excess shows up in these beautiful oceans and on these pristine beaches.
In my previous role as an Advisor for Instrumentation Technology at Lee College in Baytown, TX, I learned all about the petrochemical industry and creation of chemicals that go into plastic products. I helped men and women navigate college and the hiring process to get jobs in this industry. I am not about to say plastic is evil but how we overuse a product in conjunction with not having a way to safely dispose of it is not sustainable.
What I saw the most of was single use plastic; like plastic bags that small assorted hardware come in, the kind that line the shelves at hardware stores or marine supply stores, and fragments of plastic. Single use plastic is the plastic that you never use again because there is no use for it. This world is full of brilliant minds and I can’t help but think that there has to be a better and more sustainable way. I have observed that Bahamian grocery stores have compostable grocery sacks, if you don’t bring your own bags, cups, and paper straws.
Speaking of observing sustainable practices, I have noticed that many restaurants here require dinner reservations, so that they know how much fish to catch and cook. We got to watch and talk to some local fisherman clean and skin their catch. Whatever they don’t use is tossed to the nurse sharks and stingrays. They do this at the same spot, around the same time every day.
May I get a drumroll please!? One morning while drinking some orange juice and using the WIFI at Lorraine’s Café, we finally met some people our age! We met a guy named Marc from Quebec, Canada who was solo but had crew that he would get from a website. That’s right, he sailed with strangers. We also met Sarah, a flight nurse from North Carolina, spending six weeks sailing with her dad, Mike. That evening we all met up at the cruiser’s happy hour at Club Scorpio, I drank sprite while everyone else enjoyed the two for one rum punch special. Before heading to “da club” Sarah had dropped her watch into the water. Captain Blake to the rescue! He stripped down to his underwear and dove right in. First, he retrieved a piece of trash that looked like watch then eventually found and retrieved the watch. Then I got to carry his wet underwear in my purse the rest of the evening. It was a super fun evening, wet underwear and all!
The next morning, Marc and Blake went spearfishing while I practiced yoga and had some me time. The next time they went, I tagged along. It was off a beach with lots of iguanas roaming around, by a small cut that led to the ocean side. I chose not to snorkel while two amateur spearfishermen were hunting. Marc and Blake were unsuccessful in their spearfishing attempts and no one was harmed. I consider that a win.
On our way home that afternoon, we saw a waterspout that appeared to be about a mile or so from our anchorage. It was spectacular to watch but that was a pinch too close for comfort. And if that wasn’t enough, as I was sitting on the bow on Puff Daddy, waiting for the Black Point Regatta to begin, I saw a giant fin poke out of the water. From the shadow it appeared to be a huge shark, but not a nurse shark, which we were accustomed to seeing. Blake and I hopped in the dinghy to get a closer look…I know what is wrong with us? It was an 11-foot hammerhead shark. I don’t have pictures but if you have ever been in our dinghy, picture that but two feet longer with a hammer-head. I could not believe how big it was.
The Black Point Regatta is a big deal! These boats are all made locally by hand. The entire community comes out to the government dock, cooks out, and watches the race. The captains wore red shirts and the crew were mostly made up of young boys. There were also folks cleaning conch and a lady making fresh conch salad. Music was blaring, kids were jumping off the piers and playing in the water, men were trash talking and laughing, and it just felt like community.
The best thing about hanging out at a place for a while is that you get to know the people who live there or on neighboring islands. We met a bartender from another island who said she lived at Black Point and she had her beautiful little daughter with her; when you are visiting and only interact with local people while they are at work, I think it’s easy to forget that these are people with families and life beyond what they do for work. We were both grateful to the man in the committee boat that encouraged us to join the party on the dock when we were watching the race from our boat.
The next day, late in the afternoon, we decided to try to catch a fish one more time before we began to head South. We walked over to the ocean side by the blow hole. We found a spot and I got a bite but thought I was caught on a rock, until I saw the fish…I also saw it swim away. A few minutes later an unexpected wave came and I was hip deep in water. I had a flashback of a time when I was ten or eleven and my sister Bri was four or five. We were walking on the beach with Bri’s stepmom, at night in California, near the beach house we were staying in. All of the sudden a towering wave came through and took us out. The undertow was so strong and after realizing I was safe; I didn’t see Bri. A few moments passed and I started yelling her name. Then there she was holding onto a big rock about 15 feet away. In those few seconds, I thought the ocean took my sister and apparently that has stuck with me.
We looked for a different spot but didn’t find one and headed back to the boat. On the way, some kids were riding their bikes by the dock waiting for their mom to get home (via boat) from working at a nearby island. One of the boys ran up to us and asked what we caught, since we were carrying a bucket and fishing poles. We told him we didn’t catch anything and he asked what we used for bait. Blake showed him our lures and said we didn’t have bait. He told us that was our problem and that we need some bait. The kids wanted to fish with our fishing poles and lures so we let them. One young man shared what he knew about local fishing and different ways to cook common fish. I wish we would have met him a month ago; we would have hired him as a fishing guide.
There couldn’t have been a better way to end our time at Black Point than fishing with these sweet kids.
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