Monday May 9: Sailing!

Just the drifter at first, then we put up the mainsail.

     Yes, sailing!  We are actually sailing!  We do use our sails most of the time, but they augment the motor.  The Willie Dawes was built as a motor-sailor; our rig is too short and our rudder too small to really sail.  I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve gotten from here to there with sails alone.  We are not making any kind of time - our top speed has been four knots - but it’s quiet without the motor running and we are not in any hurry.

     We went for a long walk on the beach this morning, finding a few more shells and some more driftwood and lumber.  Dan found yet more ties to Maine:  three lobster buoys.  These weren’t the first Maine lobster buoys we’ve seen, but three all on one beach seemed pretty amazing.  He selected two for salvage.

Dan says all Maine lobster buoys are marked with initials and four digits.  You can read both on the top buoy.  The initials are gone from the bottom one.

Our last beach walk in the Bahamas - Manjack Cay

     Dan and I also had a conversation about whether or not we would take advantage of a large weather window at the end of this week.  We had planned to cross to Florida around the 20th or so with La Maitresse, but the weather this week looks ideal for the crossing and we have met people on another boat who are planning to do just that.  Mark and Gail on C-Soul were anchored with us in George Town, and we met up with them again at Crab Cay yesterday.  We have been trying to get in touch with La Maitresse but all our attempts to hail them on the radio have failed.  Finally Rosaire contacted us via email this morning, and Dan laid out his thinking, but we haven’t heard back from them.  Dan and I decided to cross this week.  It’s earlier than we’d planned, but it’s almost a guaranteed calm and comfortable crossing.  I’m sorry to back out on La Maitresse, but many boats are making their way back to the States before June 1st, La Maitresse will find someone else to buddy boat with.

     We confirmed our plans with C-Soul and exchanged MMSI numbers so we can keep each other’s position on our electronic charts and talk privately on the radio.  There may be a third boat in our convoy - Windricka - whom we have not yet met or seen.  Those two boats were already in the anchorage at Angelfish Point, the very Western tip of Great Abaco Island, when we pulled in around four-thirty.  We managed to sail off the hook right to the anchorage - we even managed to beat! - but we had to turn the engine on to get us the last couple hundred yards to where we could drop the anchor.  Tommie was beside herself all day; she usually holes up when the engine is on, but today she was in and out of the cabin, occasionally even sticking her nose up above the cockpit to see what was keeping us so busy.  We’re not sure she knew we were underway all day.      

Sunset from Angelfish Point.

        

Sunday, May 8: from Green Turtle to Crab Cay next to Manjack Cay

     The guide book - which we have come to learn is biased toward certain businesses and against visiting the more remote cays, apart from not having all their facts down - told us the holding in Black Sound/Green Turtle Cay was poor.  Instead they urge cruisers to take a mooring.  We took our chances with the anchor.  This morning when we went to pull it up, I had to call Dan to help me right at the start.  We thought maybe we’d snagged something, but it turned out we were just dug in very well.  We pulled up a large chunk of heavy clay on the anchor which we had to bang off with the deck brush handle.  Poor holding?  We could have ridden out a hurricane in that stuff.  

     Dan made a canvas sun shade, which hangs off the sunny side of the boat in the evening.  It is one of the last things to come down as we prepare to weigh anchor.  It has two lines that hang into the water.  Yesterday one came up with a small crab attached.  Tommie was pretty interested in it until it pinched her in the nose.  Today it came up with a small seahorse attached.  So we saw a seahorse after all!

Tommie checks out the crab.

We didn't let her near the seahorse.  Both were returned to the sea, alive and well.

     Our destination was just a few miles away - a small set of cays that would be good protection from the East should we need it, and away from all the towns.  Several other boats had had enough of the towns too - we joined a small fleet, anchoring between Manjack Cay and Crab Cay.  Tide was going out, we had to hurry into the dinghy if we wanted to get through the cut between them to the snorkeling reefs on the other side.  

     There are supposed to be dinghy moorings all along the reefs - the guide book lists eighteen of them, and the chart shows them too.  But we didn’t find any.  There are big reefs about a mile offshore, perhaps they are out there.  We preferred to stay closer to shore.  We snorkeled in about twenty feet of water, taking turns holding onto the dinghy painter as we drifted along with the current over coral shelves and grassy ledges.  The water was incredibly clear.  We could see all kinds of different fish and corals.  Dan had his Hawaiian sling, hoping to spear us some dinner, but it was too deep for him to be very effective.  The fish fast and there were too many places for them to hide.  We spotted yellow-tail snapper, grouper, hogfish, and bar jacks - all good eating fish - but there would be no fish for us tonight.  We swam for well over an hour and were starting to get chilled so we started heading toward shallower water for easier re-entry into the dinghy.  (Climbing back into the dinghy from the water is not a graceful feat no matter what, but it’s easier if the water is calmer.)  Then we started spotting conch.

     We took turns diving on the conch and bringing them up to examine.  All were beautiful, all were healthy and alive, and most weren’t mature enough to harvest.  Determined to have conch for dinner, we kept going, giving our legs and our lungs (not to mention our ears) a good workout as we dove again and again fifteen-twenty feet down to pluck a conch off the ocean bottom.  We ended up with three beautiful specimens which Dan expertly dealt with.

This is the conch meat.  VERY tough.  A lot of people grind it with a meat grinder.  We take a hammer to it and pound the heck out of it.

     Conch fritters and french fries for supper!!  

Saturday May 7:  Green Turtle Cay

     We spent Saturday morning showering up at Treasure Cay and using their internet.  The wifi from the marina didn’t reach the boat, and didn’t even reach their outdoor bar where there was shade and a plug for the computer, but fortunately the nearby coffee place - Junkanoo Java - had free wifi for the asking.  We took care of business and then headed out of the harbor, leaving behind the Disneyland of the Abacos.  On the way out we met a young Canadian couple on La Milville, who trailed us to Green Turtle Cay.

     After the fancy atmosphere of Treasure Cay, Green Turtle Cay was a welcome site.  The town New Plymouth is similar to Man o’ War;  it’s a charming, happy place that caters to cruisers as much as it provides for its own people.  The buildings in town look like a small harbor settlement in New England except in color.  On a little wharf we saw tents and a stage set up: we just happened to arrive on the last day of their Island Roots Festival.  

     At first we thought we’d go to the festival tomorrow, as it was after four and we were ready to settle back with a drink and dinner.  However, we eavesdropped on the conversation going on between La Millville and their marina guide who helped them find their mooring, and learned that this evening there would be a Junkanoo and the festival would end at midnight.  So we had an early dinner and got into the dinghy to go ashore.

     We did not bring the camera!!  We didn’t even have our cell phones with us.  The way to town involves a long dinghy ride out of our anchorage at Black Sound, around the point, and into the town harbor to the town dock.  When we have such a long dinghy ride, we usually don’t bring much with us as it means carrying a backpack or at least a dry bag.  We regretted this decision as soon as we got ashore.

      The town itself is very crowded together, with narrow, cement-walled alleyways winding every which way around the small buildings.  Many of the houses have white picket fences around their yards, some of them have Southern-style wrap around porches on their second stories.  Like Man o’ War, the streets are made more for golf carts than cars.  Tourists and townspeople alike were making steady progress toward the wharf with the tents and tables and we fell in with them.  Everyone was friendly, happy, and excited.

      After paying a small entrance fee to the festival, we went into the first tent which held displays by the grade school students about the island’s history.  Pirates, buccaneers, shipwrecking, and rum-running were proudly defined and explained in posters and drawings.  We were impressed with the attention to spelling and sentence structure. (I’ve seen lots of grade school posters where these things were obviously not part of the lesson plan.)  This island, like many others in this part of the Bahamas, was first occupied by natives called Lucayans, who died out soon after Columbus discovered this place.  Then it was populated by British Loyalists fleeing the Carolinas, who brought along their own slaves and found much of the land inhospitable to their way of life.  Many people who stuck it out in Green Turtle turned to pirating and shipwrecking, and some enjoyed brief careers as profiteers during the American Civil War.  

     While we were soaking in the history, we heard drumming and music.  The Junkanoo was here.  A Junkanoo is a street parade with costumes, dancing and music.  We have heard the term throughout our stay here - there are many festivals advertising a Junkanoo, the most famous of which is on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas.  Here the kids had donned elaborate, colorful costumes with large, plumed head-dresses and masks and were dancing along in a parade to the music provided by a small brass section and many hand-beat drums.  Walton Cooper, my friend from the laundromat in Rock Sound had told me a Junkanoo has its roots in Africa, and that it must be “experienced”, not just viewed.  The pictures here are provided by Sylvain on La Milville,  and by Gail and Mark on C-Soul.  

     We stayed until after sunset, checking out the local crafts for sale, and Dan purchased a small pineapple pie to take back to the boat.  He said “How could I not? With a name like pineapple pie?”  The sunset was spectacular, by the way (sorry, no picture!) but we suspect it was so colorful because we close to the pollution provided by Florida.  

Friday May 6: to Treasure Cay

     Friday morning we went into Man o' War one last time for some fresh produce and a few other things.  For the first time since Florida we bought some water - .45/gallon - just 10 gallons, to augment our drinking water supply.  We also filled up the gas tank for the outboard.  Mid-morning we bid goodbye to Man o' War and headed out.  It was still a bit windy from the NW and the seas were choppy enough to throw salt water all over our cleaned decks.  So much for the fresh water rinse we'd gotten from the rain.

Marsh Harbor 

Marsh Harbor loading dock.

     We took a swing through Marsh Harbor, to see if we were missing anything and to try to touch base with La Maitresse, who has been anchored there.  The boat was there but they were ashore, so we left them a note with our intentions (next stop Treasure Cay, then on to Green Turtle Cay).  The harbor itself is quiet large and exposed to the NW, so they probably had a bouncy time from the rain squalls.  We definitely chose the better harbor to ride it out.  Marsh Harbor is the working harbor of the area - this is where other towns send propane tanks to be refilled, where they get their supplies brought in in bulk, and where most of the working people live.  Marsh Harbor on Great Abaco Island is the third largest town after Nassau and Freeport.  Fun Bahamian fact:  the whole country has a population of about 300,000 people;  over 75% of them live in Nassau.

Entrance to Treasure Cay

     We continued on up to Treasure Cay, which isn't a cay, but sort of a spoon-shaped peninsula off the top of Great Abaco Island.  The guide book calls it a 'must see'.   As we entered the concrete-lined canal that leads to the little harbor, Dan remarked that it looked a lot like Florida.  We have found little to change that opinion.  The harbor is almost entirely lined with crumbling concrete sea walls, and there are a few narrow canals leading out of it.  Colorful houses, condos, and many many docks line the canals; it's very reminiscent of the ICW through Florida, except these houses are much smaller.  There are two marinas.  The first one is Treasure Cay Marina, and a large sign informs all cruisers to register with them, even if you are anchoring.  For the first time ever we had to pay an anchoring fee.  The good news is that with the fee comes full use of the marina facilities - wifi, garbage, water, and showers.  We can even use the pool if we wish.
    We took a walk on the "sugar sands" of the three-mile long beach just a few minutes' walk from the marina.  It was pretty, but to us the ambiance was one of vacationland:  there are bars and condos and umbrella'd chaises to support the small hotels and it was obvious the beach was groomed daily.  If the beaches around George Town are considered like adult day camp, this is adult Disneyland.  It's very resorty.  After our time in the the more primitive southern Bahamas, we are not so impressed.
     So far our travel through the Abacos has gotten increasingly more upscale.  We are wondering if the rest of our journey through the Bahamas will be the same.  

Sunset at Treasure Cay

Weds & Thurs May 4-5th:  Man o' War Cay

Schooner William H Albury (missing the main mast) - a testament to Man o' War's heyday of boatbuilding.  Sad to say she's in really sorry shape now.

     The weather forecasted strong winds shifting from Southeast through Northwest, with thunderstorms and squalls, bringing gusts up to fifty knots.  We had a slight sprinkling of rain during Tuesday night, but Wednesday morning we awoke to a deep blue sky, puffy white clouds, and a very hot sun.  You could tell something was brewing.  We decided to spend the morning snorkeling.  We took the dinghy out of the harbor and around the North point of the island to snorkel along the beaches on the Atlantic side.  

      The big reefs were way off shore - we could see the waves breaking over them.  We stayed inshore and snorkeled along some smaller reefs.  Again the predominant fish were tangs, parrotfish, and grunts, but we did spy some squirrelfish peeking out from under some rocks, as well as butterfly fish and a couple brightly striped angelfish.  The coral was varied in both color and type.  We spent over an hour checking out the environment, until we noticed how dark and overcast the sky was getting.  The wind was picking up a bit, too.  We decided it was time to head back.

     After a late lunch of cole slaw and peanut butter crackers, we gathered the laundry and our shopping bags and headed to town for errands and a walk around.  Man o War is a sweet little town with concrete streets.  No cars are allowed (but we did see a few very small trucks) and most everyone gets around by golf cart.  The entire settlement is walkable from the harbor, and we saw a good part of it while waiting for the laundry to wash and dry.  There are two working boatyards, a sail loft, a grocery, and a handful of shops selling the usual mix of tourist t-shirts and handmade crafts.  There was a Heritage Museum with displays of Man o War’s boatbuilding skills on the postage stamp-sized lawn.  The museum itself was closed but we walked around it to look at the boats.  We browsed the book swap shelves at the marina, and bought a few things from the grocery store and returned with clean laundry to the boat just as the first thunderstorm rolled over us.

Queen's Highway.  (All Bahamian towns' main streets are called Queen's Highway or Queen's Street.)

One of the displays at the Man o War Heritage Museum.

Man o' War Grocery Store

     By dinner time the squalls were pouring rain down on us.  Our dinghy cover is our main collection point for rainwater, but the dinghy was still in the water.  Dan rigged up the cover to collect anyway and we started filling the juice jugs that we use for laundry water.  I took advantage of one particularly strong downpour to have a shower.   The winds picked up, setting off a ghostly moan as they whistled over people’s hollow masts.   We began closing portholes and took turns darting out on deck to replace a jug or empty out the bimini into a dishpan.  By bedtime we’d collected about six gallons of water and Dan ran the hose directly into the boat’s water tank.

Our method of collecting rainwater.

     It rained off and on all night long, punctuated by thunder and lightning, and the wind howled right through till morning.  People on the island were excited - everyone has a rainwater collection system going into a cistern and they said they’d been needing this rain for awhile.  It was all over but the wind by morning, and when we went ashore for a walk at nine-thirty, you couldn’t tell it had rained.  Everything was already dry.

Man o' War cemetery.

Wilson's Plover on the beach.

     We walked toward the South end of the island, as far as the streets went, and then across the island to the beach on the other side.  Just before the beach is a little cemetery, cheerfully decorated with brightly colored plastic flowers and bows.  The beach was mainly clear of debris, and we saw one man walking around filling a plastic bag.  This was the first island beach & settlement we’ve been to where people make a point of dealing with their trash.  Man o War is very clean and tidy.  They even have a small transfer station where they separate their trash into containers for easy pick up by boat.  

     After our walk we returned to Willie for lunch.  We sat first in the cockpit and then on the cabin top watching the turtles swimming between us and the shore.  We think we saw a green turtle and a loggerhead turtle, but they look very similar and it’s hard to tell. 

Probably a green turtle.

     After turtle watching Dan rigged the dinghy for a sail and invited me along.  We sailed the length of the harbor and back, drawing lots of stares and a few thumbs up.  Very few people seem to go sailing in a small boat here.  

     We’ll stay here another night and probably head out tomorrow.  The wind is staying in the Northwest, but won’t be blowing as strong.  We’ve heard a lot about Green Turtle Cay, maybe that will be our next destination. 

Monday & Tuesday May 2 - 3:  Tilloo Cay to Man o War Cay

     We joined Rosare and Nina from La Maitresse for a dinghy run through a passage they had in their guide (neither our Waterways Guide nor our Explorer chart book mentioned this passage).  The passage ran along the West coast of some of the Angel Cays.  (The Angel Cays seem to be misnamed - Guano Cay, Cormorant Cay, Snake Cay, Deep Sea Cay, and Mockingbird Cay do not sound very angelic.)  This passage ran along Snake and Deep Sea Cay, between them and Great Abaco Island.  We started for the Northern entrance, between Snake and Cormorant Cays, and found it to be very, very shallow.  After some discussion and a lot of mud-stirring, we turned around and headed for the Southern entrance, between Snake and Deep Sea Cays.  

Nina consults her i-pad as we try to navigate the dinghy passage.

     It was still very shallow, and only somewhat passable.  Our dinghies both bumped along the bottom a couple of times.  Rosare was hoping for conch;  they had brought along a looky-bucket (a five gallon bucket with a plexiglass bottom) and Nina spied a lot of coral but no conchs.  We did, however, see a few conch crawls set up in the most unlikely places.  We could get close to only one of them and saw it was empty.  It seemed odd to us to find these here in such a hard to access, out of the way place.  They looked like they were fairly new, and in good repair, so they were being used.  But if our fatty knees, which draws less than six inches, had trouble getting around, how did the conch tenders get here?  We began to wonder if the area was used for other, more clandestine reasons.

Conch crawl.

     We discovered why our guides didn’t talk about this dinghy passage - there is no real passage, and probably hasn’t been one for some time.  Mangroves have filled in channels.  A small causeway connects Great Abaco Island to Snake Cay.  And it is simply too shallow in many areas to get around.  We finally gave up and headed back the way we came in, rounding Snake Cay along a crumbling wall of rusting iron and into the confused seas back to the Willie.  We made plans with La Maitresse to travel a few miles up along Tilloo Cay to a different anchorage than last night, and once we’d set the hook there they called on the radio and asked us to join them in an evening out to dinner.

     Cracker P’s is listed as a must-see, with a famous fish dip.  Cruisers have been stopping at this boat-friendly restaurant/bar on Tavern Cay for thirty years.  Sounded good to us.  We got into their inflatable and headed off.  

Cracker P's.  Closed.

     Well.  This was a disappointment.  We wondered if they were just closed on Mondays, but the place had an air of neglect and the property nearby was listed for sale.  As were the next two places with docks.  Dan and I told Rosare and Nina about the time we’d chartered in the British Virgin Islands, when every single restaurant we went to was closed.  Some were closed on that particular day of the week, some had been boarded up for a long time, and a few were closed until the week or two later, when the cruising season officially started.  (We were there in mid-November.)  Rosare turned the dinghy around and we started slowly back to our boats.

     Inflatable dinghies aren’t known to give you a dry ride.   Dan and I missed our fatty knees as we were splashed several times by the waves we headed into.  At least the water was warm.  As we passed by Cracker P’s, we noticed boats tying up at the dock next door.  Lubber’s Landing Bar and Restaurant was open.  We had been so intent on Cracker P’s, we completely missed this place right next door.  We hailed some people on the dock - was the place really open?  Was the food good?  Yes, and yes, we were told, so we tied up.

Lubber's Landing. Open.

     Lubber’s Landing is a charming open-air bar and restaurant with a small beach and several levels of decks.  New wooden walkways lead from the back of the thatched-roof building through a small woods to a few small rental cottages nestled behind the bar.  This place is known for their “Island Burger” which is a tuna burger served with fries.  They had plenty of the burger, Pam the bartender/cook told us, but they only had two orders of fries left.  We four settled at the bar and ordered the last two fries to split amongst us, along with the famous burger and a fried cauliflower appetizer.  It was all very good.  After our meal we lounged on the sofas near the bar and talked with other people in the bar.  It was a fun, relaxed place with similar people.  We had a great time there.  Good thing Cracker P’s was closed!

    Tuesday morning, after Dan listened to Chris Parker’s morning weather report, he told me we were in for fifty-knot squalls and he felt we should head over to Man o War Cay and take a mooring for the next couple of days.  It would be protected there, and we could resupply.  We called for information - yes moorings were available, on a first come first served basis, and no the price of a mooring did not include any marina facilities. If we wanted showers, wifi, or use of the laundry it would be extra.  Dumping trash or filling up with water would also cost extra.  I told Dan I didn’t need a $5 shower, I could still set up a hot spot with my phone for our own wifi, and the laundry would cost us extra anyway even if we stayed in a marina slip.  If it rained, we’d be able to collect the water, and it doesn’t bother us to pay to dump trash.  There is no such thing as “free trash”.  

     First, though, we kept our snorkel date with La Maitresse.  We swam around two small rocky outcrops not too far from our boat.  We always see something new when we snorkel - today it was turtles.  There were several sitting on the bottom, hoping we’d just go away.  I spotted a small octopus pulling a small conch into its lair, and Dan saw several large grouper hanging out in front of a small underwater cave.  He went back to get his Hawaiian sling and came back with Nina and Rosare.  Rosare was similarly armed, Nina had her Go-Pro camera to record everything.  The two of them tried again and again - and Dan actually managed to spear one grouper - but in the end we got no fish for lunch.  Dan said when he was swimming down to just look at the grouper, they just looked back, unconcerned.  But when he returned with the sling, they all hid.  

Hawksbill turtle.  Internet stock photo,

Nassau groupers like to hide.  Internet stock photo.

     We discussed our mooring plans with La Maitresse.  They hadn’t heard the latest weather forecast, and agreed a mooring in a protected harbor sounded like a good plan, but they had friends in Marsh Harbor and chose to go there instead.  We made plans to stay in touch.  We do want to make the crossing to Florida together.

     Dan and I weighed anchor and took a swing through Hope Town before heading over to Man o War Cay.  Hope Town has a pretty, and very busy little harbor clotted with moorings and ringed with docks.  A red and white striped light house overlooks everything.  Sunsail and the Moorings both offer charter boats here.  We thought it was very charming, but too busy and perhaps too built up for the tourist trade here.  

Hope Town light house.

Hope Town shore front.

     Man o War Cay is the boat building capitol of the Bahamas.  It’s also quite charming, and a bit touristy, but it’s also obviously a working town.  They used to build wooden boats on the beaches, but now all the work is confined to the two boatyards, and it’s about fiberglass, not wood.  There are two coves, both very narrow, and a lot of very dubious moorings.  We had been told they were “all sizes, all colors” and not to take one marked private, but few of the moorings are balls.  Most of jugs of any kind, and some look like pot buoys.  They are also very close to each other, with no thought to size and type of boat that might occupy them.  We first picked up one set of jugs but ended up very close to a large workboat, so we moved to another mooring that obviously hadn’t been used for a long time.  Dan dove on the mooring block, and attached our own line directly to it.  He’ll sleep better, knowing we are that much more secure.

Entrance to Man o War harbor.

Saturday April 30 - Sunday May 1: Little Harbor, Abacos

     Dan was up early, making breakfast and listening to the 0630 weather report on our single sideband radio, while I was topsides, making sure everything was secured and ready for our passage from Spanish Wells to the Abacos.  This would be the longest passage since we crossed over from Florida, 58.6 miles.  Chris Parker, weather guru, confirmed Dan’s plans; we weighed anchor as soon as breakfast was over.

     Two hours later, with Spanish Wells a distant line on the horizon, we were wondering if we really wanted to deal with such steep seas for the next seven hours.  “They wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t climbing on top of each other.”  Dan sighed.  We rolled and occasionally crashed, and we endured a lot of sprays of salt water, but we persevered, as did about six or seven other boats.  Dan set about rigging the fishing rods, but after about an hour took them down.  It was too rough - we might have hooked one, but it would have been too difficult to land it.  

     Fortunately the day was warm and sunny, the winds not too gusty, and the salt water was eighty degrees.  When you got hit with the spray, it wasn’t a big deal.  And there were short periods of time when the seas weren’t more than three feet!  Nevertheless, it was a long day, and we were very happy to make our way into Little Harbor, a very protected little private cove filled with moorings.  About four-thirty pm we were bobbing gently, relaxing in the cockpit, listening to the heavy surf from the Atlantic side of the island.  

Little Harbor channel from our cockpit.

     Little Harbor is a sort of private artist colony.  In 1951 artists Randolph and Margot Johnston of Toronto, Canada along with their children sailed into this cove seeking a haven from the aftermath of chaos and destruction of World War II and staked a claim.  For four years they lived on their boat, then moved into a cave when the boat began to fall apart, while they built their house and their workshop and eventually a foundry.  Randolph was a sculptor who worked with bronze.  His castings grace Nassau and the Vatican.  Today their son Pete, also a sculptor, runs Pete’s Pub and Gallery and owns all the moorings in the harbor.  Visitors pay the mooring fee at the bar and can stroll the grounds to see bronze dolphins, mermaids, and stingrays among other things.  The Gallery is open every day, beautifully intricate displays of bronze sculptures as well as some watercolors and other art. 

Pete's Gallery.

Pete's Pub

     We went ashore on Sunday morning, taking in the outdoor sculptures, and walking the short paths to the abandoned light house that overlooks the Atlantic side of this island and to the two accessible beaches.  The lighthouse is little more than concrete walls;  we were told that soon it will be declared a National Historic site, which means there might be some restoration money coming.   On the way back, we toured the Gallery.  Among the many beautiful pieces of art were this lovely table and three exquisite tableaux inspired by Hemingway’s story The Old Man and the Sea.  

I told Dan if he was so inclined, he could make me one of these.

One of the tableaux of The Old Man and the Sea.

     We returned to Willie for a quick lunch and then dropped the mooring, thinking we’d head up to the next cay - Lynyard Cay - and stop there for a snorkel and probably for the night.  We came upon some friends we’d met in George Town, Rosare and Nina on La Maitresse.  They were just hauling anchor; they were going over to nearby Sandy Cay to snorkel, did we want to come along?  Sandy Cay is part of the Land and Sea Park here, and there are dinghy moorings near the reefs.  We abandoned our plans to follow them.  

Ketch La Maitresse (The Mistress)

     The snorkeling was excellent - we saw schools of parrotfish, snappers, and tangs.  A nurse shark lazily made its way around us and beyond.  The coral was outstanding.  There was elk horn coral (which we’ve heard is endangered and rare to find) and stag horn coral, and hundreds of very small, very colorful fish darting all around.  We spent a good hour moving from one section to another.  

Elk horn coral - internet stock photo

Queen parrotfish - aren't they wild looking?  They have white lips and teeth and they eat coral.  Internet stock photo.

      Afterward we both moved our boats a few miles further to Tilloo Cay to anchor for the night.  Rosare and Nina invited us aboard La Maitresse for a bit and we learned that they are pretty much following the same path we are, making their way back to the US.  I think we’ve found a buddy boat to travel with.  This will be good for when we make the crossing back to Florida.