The Bounty of the Sea

The necessities of laundry and grocery shopping over, we were quite prepared to get underway once again, leaving the ever more crowded harbor of George Town. But wouldn't you know it, there wasn't any wind. Now you think that wouldn't be a particular problem; after all we do have an engine. But considering that the prevailing winds do make for excellent sailing north, and it was about 25 miles to our next port of call, and as we were in no particular hurry, we figured we might as well wait for a decent breeze. So we waited another day in George Town, watching as more and more boats poured into the harbor. The count now is well over four hundred as many boats are arriving for the Cruisers Regatta that takes place in early March. But the following day all was calm again. So despite having a nice evening before catching up with the folks on Morning Star, we finally had the bright idea to only go part of the way. Our charts showed a nice little anchorage behind Black Cay. So in company with Starlight and Seaquel, we made our way out of George Town. As the cut out of the harbor is relatively deep, we deployed our fishing line in the cut. And almost immediately, we hooked a fish. It didn't look particularly large and we couldn't understand how it was putting up such a vigorous fight. That is until we reeled in only half a fish! Seems that the local barracuda took a chunk out of my fish and I was trying to reel the both of them in.

Black Cay

Now many may question the wisdom at keeping and eating a barracuda at all. Our coral reef fish guide even says that more people have been injured by eating barracuda then have ever been attacked by one. Being a reef predator, barracudas are subject to a poison called ciguatera that comes from eating other reef fish. ciguatera poisoning is not at all pleasant, commencing with headache, nausea, fever, and hot and cold chills. From there it gets worse as you get violently ill! Once it's in you, it never really goes away, but some of the symptoms can reoccur at any time. But the locals eat all sizes of barracuda with great relish. And as smaller specimens are less likely to have the poison, we went ahead and prepared our catch.

Once we were settled in in the lee of Black Cay (and by the way, there were no other boats in sight) we set about exploring the area by dinghy. Right near our anchorage was two pretty little beaches, one lined with coconut palms and casuarinas (Australian Pine trees). On shore, someone had nailed up a rustic little table resembling a bar beneath the palm trees. But as the mosquitoes were bad even during this point in the day, we retreated back to the dinghy. Going out towards the next cut south, using our look bucket, we spied several conch about twelve feet down in amongst the eel grass. Diving down, we retrieved 7 nice sized conch. Soon joined by George and Julie, we all made our way out to the reef in the cut. And the coral here was quite striking with a multitude of colorful fish of many varieties, one of the nicest spots we'd seen thus far. George soon came up with a good sized lobster. Brian showed up and joined in the fun, catching a lobster and some fish. Hatch, single handing aboard Lazy Bench who joined us later, also came up with two lobster. And that wasn't all. George and I went out later and I finally got a lobster. As it was small, I gave it to George so that both he and Julie could both have a lobster for dinner.

But Julie being so wise had other ideas. She invited us all over to Seaquel that evening for fish curry, using the barracuda I caught and the yellow jack that George caught on the way over. While a truly memorable meal, the seafood bounty had just begun. The next day, we went out again. We had dropped the seven conch off in the water near the palm lined beach the evening before and we were curious to see if they were still there. For a snail, these things move pretty good. We finally found only four of the seven, the rest must have made a mad dash knowing what was in store. Thinking of another seafood night, we all went out to see if we could find a few more conch. While the place we found the conch the day before had only undersized ones left, we happened upon a spot in about 15 feet of water where more then 3 dozen very old large conch had gathered in one small area. The only question left was in selecting the biggest of the bunch.

And snorkeling out in the cut, I even managed to catch another good sized lobster. Back at the coconut beach with our conch, the messy cleaning process was begun. For Brian and Susan, this was their first conch cleaning experience, but they managed quite well. Some of the conch were so large that the finished sections were the size of large chicken breasts. After such a nice day of snorkeling, we were all now anticipating another marvelous meal. Six lobster, eight large conch made into cracked conch, some fresh coconut and a pecan pie....the seven of us couldn't even finish the lobster. We all got some to take back and make lobster salad out of.

We finally upped anchor the next day and headed off to our original destination of Lee Stocking Island. This island has the distinction of having the highest point on the entire Exuma chain. At a scant 123 feet above sea level, we hiked to the scenic overlook of Perry Point in a few minutes. Lee Stocking is also home to the Caribbean Marine Research Center, a branch of the US Government's National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). The research here focuses mainly on the important Bahamian food sources of the Queen Conch, Spiny Lobster and Grouper. The place did have a particular States feel to it, a harried office worker, lots of signs and rules, and a well financed dive center and sport boat fleet. It was apparently a busy day of receiving incoming supplies for the center as we were requested to stay away from the research grounds and the airstrip as several planes were expected.

Leaving Lee Stocking, we headed north once again out through the cut and into Exuma Sound. We had intended to go only a few miles up to Rudder Cut Cay but the sailing was so good that we did not want to stop. So instead we went a few miles further north pointing our bow toward the cut at Galliot Cay. When we exited the cut at Lee Stocking Island in the morning, the tide was nearly slack. So even with the onshore wind, the cut was relatively calm. But now, the tide was ebbing with maximum velocity against the building easterly breeze. We knew we would get bounced around pretty good on our way back in. As we know, some cuts are better then others, but they all can get pretty bad. We couldn't very well stay out in the Sound forever, so with little choice we made our way back inshore towards Galliot Cut. Starlight was just ahead and when they entered the choppy waters of the cut, they just seemed to stand still for the longest time what with the 4 knot current against their 5 knots of boat speed. As you can tell, entering these cuts are my greatest fear. You see, things have to be right the first time; there's only one chance to get it right; once in the breakers, there is no turning back. Your course and your boat had better be prepared because it's absolutely imperative not to get broadside to the breakers. You really don't know how bad the cut is until you are in it and then it's way to late to do anything about it but hold on and steer down the standing waves. To give you an idea at how scared I was, in preparation, I fitted the hatch boards and pulled closed the hatch, sealing the boat up in fear of waves boarding the boat. As we entered the worst of the breakers, the waves seemed to be standing on end, each rearing up as if to climb on board. White water was all around and the boulders lining the cut looked perilously close. By the time we were through, my heart was racing and I was in need of some serious decompression!

But once on the banks side, all was calm. In just a matter of a few boat lengths, we go from being in the mist of breaking waves to placid water with barely a ripple. In need of a peaceful nights sleep, we drop anchor in a well protected but current plagued spot just north of the cut. But with the current running against the wind, we just sit over top of our anchor, scratching our heads trying to decide which way to back down to set the anchor. This will not do! So we pick up our anchors, hoist sail and keep heading north. Once in clear air on banks, we make great speed in relatively flat water. The sailing is terrific and we slowly decompress from our scare in the cut.

A little on the sailing of late. It's been good. No, really good. No, fantastic. Ever since we left Conception Island, we been able to sail almost everywhere we've gone. Our spinnaker has gotten lots of use as well. On the day we came back from George Town, we sailed all the way into the harbor, almost to our anchorage. During our approach, someone from the restaurant La Shanté hailed the "two boats passing Pigeon Cay." He wanted to know what we called those colorful sails that we were flying and to ask if we were racing since there was two boats close together. The irony was that we had eaten at La Shanté during our last visit to George Town. Our meal there wasn't that good but it being such a nice day and the sailing so good, I fibbed and told him we really enjoyed our visit to his restaurant. We even flew our spinnaker into the cut as we were heading to Lee Stocking Island. And as I mentioned on another day the sailing was so good that we sailed right passed our destination and kept on going, not wanting the sail to end. Now I remember why we bought a sailboat in the first place!

We ended up later that day at a nice little spot all by ourselves near White Point. The fishing here turns out to be disappointing, but the day is warm and the coral quite pretty. All in all, not a bad afternoon to go for a swim. The beach here is also very nice and Joyce and I take a long walk, collecting a few shells along the way. We hear the weather report that evening calling for some heavy winds to start affecting our area late the next day, lasting for several days. So we make plans on where to tuck in until the blow is over. I borrow the Perfect Storm from Brian and Susan and Julie and I exchange puzzles. I've read the Perfect Storm before, but it seems good timing to read it again. We just hope that this storm doesn't bring another Pipe Creek experience.

But the next day was sunny and pleasant, the bad weather being pushed back for a day. So we sail up to the Staniel area to enjoy some snorkeling before the bad weather sets in. We snorkel the Thunderball Grotto for a second time and it's almost as good as before. Schools of fish nibble at my closed hand, thinking there is food inside. They are disappointed so swim off to the next victim. Brian takes his dinghy out the cut to find a reef outside in the sound. Looks a little rough to us so Joyce and I snorkel several spots on the inside.

When Brian comes back with a big smile on his face, we knew he'd found something interesting. He caught two of the largest crabs that we've ever seen. The body was as big around as a dessert plate and each claw measured about 12 inches, each thicker then your thumb. They were so big that only one would fit in the pot. And the taste....if anything, it was better then the Chesapeake Blue Crab. In the fish book, they are called "Channel Clinging Crabs." There was enough meat in the legs to fill all four of us with the body meat left over for a few crab cakes besides. We sat in the cockpit cracking the legs with pliers, splattering each other and the boat in the process. We all needed a bath afterward, smelling as we did of left over seafood, but it was worth all the mess. We could hardly wait to go back out and look for more.

After a wonderful meal, we were fortunate to see another beautiful sunset with our clear view of the western sky. Later that night it gets very calm. The water is flat and oily smooth. Of course this means something is up with the weather so I sleep rather fitfully. You see it's really never this calm without a reason. It usually means that a front is approaching sufficiently close to open up the normal pressure gradient and the typical trade winds breeze often dies ahead of the approaching front. I suppose that this gave rise to the expression "the calm before the storm." But such is life on a boat. You could never imagine how much the weather plays a factor in almost everything we do and every place we go. Let's just hope this latest round of weather passes soon.