Where the Magic Happens!

On March 10th, we sailed from Bennet’s Harbour in Cat Island to Little San Salvador, an island purchased by Holland America, a cruise line.

It felt bizarre. Everything was constructed for the tourist experience. There were stables for horseback riding on the beach, cabanas, villas, a restaurant/bar, and a larger than life wooden pirate ship on shore. I felt angry at first, how could all this be built up with electricity and water while so many inhabited Bahamian islands struggle with reliable electricity and safe drinking water. While we could have ventured ashore, with permission, after the cruise ship left; we chose not to.

The next morning, we were up before the sun to get out of there before the cruise ship arrived and the ferry boats start zooming back and forth.

We pulled anchor just as the cruise ship dropped theirs. Then we passed another cruise ship and then another on our way to Rock Sound in Southern Eleuthera, to duck in for some strong winds that were heading our way. What we remember most about our sail, other than how miniscule we felt in comparison to the cruise ships, was the deep blue color of the water and the dolphins leading the way.

Rock Sound offers close to 360-degree protection, with the exception of protection from southerly winds. Luckily, we would be receiving north westerly winds and while this allowed protection for anchoring, the dinghy dock situation was treacherous. There were small-ish and constant breaking waves towards the dinghy docks making getting on and off the dinghy an acrobatic feat. Add carrying one hundred pounds of water and two backpacks full of groceries and you’ll either feel like an Olympic gymnast or a brick as you sink to the bottom. It turns out, we are a couple of Olympians. Despite how treacherous it was, Orchid’s Restaurant deserves a thank you for allowing cruisers a place to fill jerry cans with drinking water, throw away trash, access free WiFi, and enjoy a hot, delicious meal.

We had ventured ashore to check out the Ocean Hole, which is a pond connected to the ocean through underground passages, that is approximately 600 feet deep. Many locals believe that the pond has healing powers due to its high mineral content. Despite that, we chose not to take a dip into the Ocean Hole.

As we explored the town, we saw a few things we had not seen in a while, like a stop sign and a department store.

In addition to exploring, I had to navigate a situation with the paddleboard I ordered Blake for his birthday. My cell phone provider, T-Mobile, offers unlimited low speed data and unlimited texts in the Bahamas but not calling. I had to be on WiFi to make calls, unless I wanted to spend 0.25 cents per minute. This low speed data allows me to send emails. This matters because I was in email communication with the shipping company, Seacor, and Tingum Village Resort, the hotel our family would be staying and where the paddleboard was being sent. Mind you, the shipping company never responded to my emails so I was in communication with Juanita, the owner/manager of Tingum Village.

I had been trying to obtain information on the cost of shipping the paddleboard before it was out on a boat without a response from Seacor. In the email communication, Juanita told me the cost would be $319, which was the cost of the paddleboard. The representative, Casey, was on this email thread and never said differently but communicated with Juanita that the paddleboard was already on the boat and that was that. Several emails were exchanged between Juanita and I that were less than pleasant. I went to shore to access WiFi and called the general customer service number for Seacor and they did not have my name or any record of this paddleboard until I gave them the Amazon tracking number. I was then told shipping was calculated to cost $70…not $319. I was put on hold then Casey got on the phone. I demanded that the shipping invoice be sent to me; and that we need cut out the middle man which was Juanita. Casey all of the sudden became very helpful and even contacted customs to get the amount of duty tax, again not totaling anything near $319.

This may or not be a scam that Juanita and Casey run on wealthy Americans but they targeted the wrong girl. A few days later, giving Juanita the benefit of the doubt, I emailed her apologizing that she got caught up in the middle Seacor’s lack of communication and that I was grateful that she was holding the paddleboard for us. She did not respond to me but minutes after I sent that email, Blake’s mom, Laurie, text me saying Juanita reached out to her saying she had the paddleboard. And that was that.

Once that wind picked up, we agreed that we did not want to push our luck with the dinghy dock gymnastics so we hunkered down in the boat and let the weather pass.

On March 15th, we pulled anchor and continued North to Pelican Cay. We thought we would see if we could catch a fish along the way. Well, we did; it was a Great Barracuda. I’m happy to report that Blake somehow recovered our lure and still has all his fingers.

If you’re looking at a map and know the Bahamas, you may be wondering why we skipped Governor’s Harbor. We were expecting another blow to move in soon and we were trying to be north so we could catch a good weather window to go through Current Cut to Spanish Wells. Pelican Cay was a serene spot. At this point we were in a bit of a funk, feeling heavy from the farewells at Cat Island and exhausted from our experience at Rock Sound. Pelican Cay was beautiful spot to kick back and enjoy a sunset.

The next morning, we were at it again, headed towards Mutton Fish Point. The seas were larger and choppier than we anticipated which meant Mutton Fish Point may not be the best option. We decided to tuck into Hatchett Bay, a fully protected anchorage from all wind and sea conditions. The only thing standing between us and Hatchett Bay was the extremely narrow inlet, lined with large rocks.

From a distance, it looks impossible, with no room for error. As we turn towards this inlet, we have following six-foot seas that cause our boat to roll side to side; not exactly the motion we want traversing a narrow inlet.

As we wobbled through, we puckered and held our breath, and with a cleansing exhale, we were through it, in the uninviting green waters of Hatchett Bay.

This dark green water reinforced our downtrodden experience. We questioned our decision to leave our friends and head north. Was Eleuthera and the Abacos going to be where we wanted to spend our final month in the Bahamas? These questions were a waste of energy and a non-question because our family would be in Harbour Island in ten days; turning back was not an option that deserved our attention.

We left Hatchett Bay the next morning. Leaving through the inlet was not nearly as scary as entering; and this time we got to our intended destination Mutton Fish Point. This destination was important because we wanted to check out the Glass Window and Queens Bath to make sure it was a worthy destination to take the family when they visited. We considered experiencing it all with them but they would be here such a short time, we wanted their experience to be as incredible as possible!

The anchorage had three boats when we arrived and plenty of space. The water was back to being bright turquoise; the anchorage was well protected from the winds and calm. We went down below to have lunch and while I was cooking, Blake called me to the cockpit. There was a boat that came in and dropped the hook; his bow was less than ten feet from our stern. Keep in mind, this anchorage has plenty of space. He then realized he was a pinch too close and began to move.

Blake went down below and luckily I stayed in the cockpit because this man didn’t actually pull up his anchor he was dragging it along the seabed. I called for Blake because the man was moving towards our anchor. Blake hollered out to him, “Hey, we have a bridle set and our anchor is right there!” He responded, “I was wondering what you had going on there.” He then begins to pull up his anchor then lower it back down then up then down. We didn’t know what was happening. He pulls up his anchor and has our anchor attached. We are in shock. He looks at us, sunscreen caked on his nose, and asks, “Is this yours?” All Blake could muster in response was, “Yep.” The guy grabbed his boat hook, unhooked our anchor and dropped it back in the water followed by dropping his boat hook in the water and just leaving it. Then he proceeded to steer his boat towards ours and Blake is on the deck waving him off. As he steers back towards our stern, he asks, “Where are ya’ll from?” He asked in a way like he didn’t just pull our anchor up and nearly crash into us. Again, Blake just responded, “Texas,” in total disbelief. Then the guy goes off to a space with no other boats about a hundred yards away and drops anchor.

We reset our anchor and noticed his boat hook was floating towards us. Does our boat have a magnetic field to all things owned by this man? We were making our way into the dinghy to go exploring and retrieved his boat hook. He was coming towards us in a dinghy. He apologized and offered us two beers; and we returned his boat hook. Moral of the story, it only costs two beers when you uproot an anchor and almost hit that same boat, so don’t hold back!

With that unfortunate experience behind us, we continued on to check out the Glass Window and Queens Bath. We dinghied over to a beach near the Glass Window Bar & Grill and hiked our way up to the spectacular Glass Window. The view is cool from the bridge but it’s breathtaking from the top of this cliff. We took in the bright turquoise temperate water on the bank side and deep blue commanding water on the Atlantic side all in one view, a rare opportunity.

As we made our way back to the dinghy, we worked up a thirst and made a stop at the Glass Window Bar & Grill that overlooked the bank side. Blake ordered a Kalik and I ordered a Sprite which comes in a hot can with a plastic cup of ice and a paper straw. I poured the Sprite in and sipped. About halfway through, I thought I had sipped a small piece of ice but it didn’t feel cold, like ice would. I reached in and took it out of my mouth and it was a sharp chard of glass. Thank the heavens for presence in that moment; otherwise, I would have mindlessly bit down or swallowed it. Disaster avoided!

We dinghied over to Twin Sisters Beach and walked across the street to Queens Bath. Other than the signs that you have arrived there, there is no indication on how to find the actual baths. We wandered around the rocks for a bit before we spotted them, then had to figure out how to get down there. I think the expectation was along the lines of hot springs but it was more like ocean water that was heated by the sun in rock craters. In the small pools, tucked out of harms way were dozens of sea urchins. Crabs tap danced there away from one rock to another. Waves from the Atlantic built and crashed against the wall of rock that plateaued and cratered into these magnificent baths.

Do you remember how it feels when you went exploring in nature as a child? Whether it was the creek behind your house or the wooded area behind your grandaddy’s office, there is a curiosity and a sense of wonder that comes to life. That’s how we felt and how we’ve felt on every hike, snorkel, paddle, walk down a beach. The world feels like your playground. I think in the day to day we forget what it feels like to play. For me there is a sense of innocence and surrender; what is there when needing to achieve or fix; or feelings of insecurity are stripped away. It’s a sense of being versus a “doing.” It’s where the magic happens.