Moving south on the bank of Eleuthera we rode out some gnarly weather in Hatchet Bay, roughly in the middle of this long skinny island. Hatchet Bay’s entrance was carved in the 1930’s to support a large cattle ranch that operated until the late 1980’s. The entrance is very tight and we may not have even attempted it if not for knowing that a larger power boat had gone in shortly before we did. The bay itself is a sleepy little village with true “hurricane hole” status. We spent a couple days exploring the area (and discovering that our electric bikes are toast). There are a dozen stone grain silos left from the cattle business, a cave in which you can go a mile underground and emerge elsewhere (if you have better shoes and more than a cell phone flashlight!), a small store and a couple of restaurants. An interesting memorial is being built to honor the fallen Bahamian Defense Force sailors that were killed when Cuban MIGs attacked their patrol boat on May 10, 1980. The BDF had arrested eight Cubans for illegal fishing and then were attacked from the air. This is the kind of thing that was on my mind when we had to hug the Cuban coast last summer…
A few days later, John discovered that a screw had backed out of the traveller that controls the boom. It was just sitting there on the roof and the boom was now held by a single screw on the other side. He very carefully added some loctite and attempted to screw them back in. Somehow, he dropped the second one and it bounced straight overboard! OMG!!! Fortunately, we were only in about 8′ of water and in less than 5 minutes of diving for it, Tess found it! Our last stops in Eleuthera were in Governour’s Harbour, where we had a great Valentine’s Day lunch (couldn’t get dinner reservations), and Rock Sound.
On February 16, we crossed over to the Exumas and spent a couple days at Highbourne Cay, just a few days after a man jumped in with the sharks and was bitten on the face. While sitting in the cockpit the second morning a large live-aboard dive boat dropped a bunch of divers into the fast moving current right next to us for a drift dive. We then moved a few miles to Norman Cay where SpaceX was going to land its first ever rocket in Bahamian waters just offshore. Turns out that they had bought out the entire yacht club hotel and restaurant for VIPs and company techs. For the actual launch and landing we went up to the restaurant as it had the best view and found ourselves mingling with some seriously rich folks who had come to watch but didn’t manage to get onto one of the SpaceX vessels. Our boat was surrounded by a bunch of the world’s largest super yachts and their “tenders” for a few days and the normally sleepy airport was non-stop private jets. Was quite fun to be around for that. We also enjoyed the very nice restaurant once again. After a few days we were off to Warderick Wells, where we tried to find our boat sign and the sticker that we left on Boo Boo Hill less than a year ago. Alas, it seems nothing really survives the weather here. We also hiked a couple different trails this time and noticed some famous folk have donated to the upkeep of this national park.
After that we had to hit the Staniel Cay Yacht Club again before moving south to George Town where Tess flew home in a heavy rain to help her folks through some medical issues. Poor John was left all alone during the annual Cruiser Regatta festivities. No, he didn’t partake in the daily beach yoga, pilates, volleyball or pickleball but he did manage to get in some competitive bocce, attend several social events, a beach concert and a fantastic dinghy concert plus he made it to beach church twice. John’s friend Cliff flew in for some of the fun. They hit as many beach bars as they could, climbed to the Stocking Island Monument (long ago had a gas lit beacon on top) and they even managed to get a few boat jobs done.
