Author: Miranda

The anchorage at Clarence Town left a great deal to be desired, so when we heard that we’d be getting only south-east wind for several days (the exact direction we’d need to sail to), we picked the flattest of those days, and shamelessly motored the entire crossing from Long Island to Crooked. We were lucky. The seas were dead flat, and we only had to cut fishing buoys out of our props once. Goodie. Our first stop was Landrail point, on the northwestern side of the island.

The settlement of Landrail point does nothing to stick out on a map. So, we planned on spending a quick night here, then heading off to Acklins Island in the morning. But the locals had something different in mind. We landed on the 30^th, planned to sail out on the 31^st, and had completely forgotten that New Years was a day away. (Wait, what day is it today?) When we took a stroll around town, in search of a few groceries, not a single local would less us pass by without stopping to chat, ask if we needed a ride, and feverishly tell us that we just had to spend New Years in Landrail. There was a big party planned and we were clearly missing out by leaving early.

Pete and I are travelers, and I’ve come to realize that traveling by sailboat can lend itself to sequestering yourself in that little bubble of a boat you live on, if you’re not careful. For me, traveling means interacting with a new environment, a new people, and a new culture. It’s about observing, listening, and learning about how others live. Therefore, taking the opportunity to glimpse into how people live on the islands we visit is important to me.

So, we stayed for the festivities.

Turns out the party was at a damn resort. Full of white people on vacation. We even played an hour of Cards Against Humanity for Christ’s sake.

Jinxed by the soapbox yet again.

But, it was a great time. We had blast. Really. There was a limbo contest that’s won by the same guy every year, and whose grand finale occurs when he limbos under a bar that is held up by two beer bottles. Beer bottles, people! It was quite a sight. The live band played classic American hits, even though they didn’t know the words. And at 1:00 am, who can really tell if they are singing each word or just slurring sounds together at the tricky parts? “Shiu feel up mah sehnses, like a nide ina fores…”

On the first, we celebrated the beginning of 2015 by sailing the 40 miles down to Acklin’s southern tip in that hangover haze that comes from too much cheap rum and not enough greasy late-night-diner food.

Where as our stay in Acklins was full of folks excited to hear our story, Crooked Island couldn’t have felt more devoid of civilization. The winds blew hard while we were here and the squalls frequent, so we hunkered in and got some projects done on the boat. Our grill now has a sweet new sunbrella cover. Fancy that!

Pete did plenty of snorkeling, but a few hammerhead shark sightings took the life out of our spearfishing gusto.

Apparently there are tens of thousands flamingos on the island, and we attempted to trounce around on the island looking for them, but soon realized we had no idea where they might be, and bushwhacking through a mosquito filled marsh wasn’t exactly our idea of a good time. Instead, we explored the conch graveyard along the beach.

When it looked as through the winds would finally calm down, we readied ourselves for our first overnight passage to Matthew Town on the island of Great Inagua. From our anchorage, we could watch as the many freighters passed by on their way to the Windward Passage, so we knew we’d see some action on the 70-mile passage south.

Anticipation, excitement, and a touch of nervousness hung in the air as we pulled up anchor and headed to our final port in the Bahamas.