A little video on an incredible experience we had in Opunohu Bay in Moorea, French Polynesia.
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 30th, planned to sail out on the 31st, 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.
Author: Miranda
Location: Clarence Town, Long Island
So, we may have been slightly ambitious.
And probably stupid for even drawing up a route in the first place. But, one has to have goals and a general structure for where to be when on a cruising route, especially when there are hurricane seasons involved. We were excited while planning this little sabbatical, and I have been blessed (cursed, really) with a “can’t stop, I just can’t stop” approach to organization and planning.
But, as we truly assimilate ourselves into this cruising lifestyle, we’ve realized very quickly that the best laid plans are just that, lofty plans, and you can plan all you want, but if the weather and the wind don’t cooperate, you might as well rip up that cruising map as use it for toilet paper for all good it will do you once you start sailing. And if you knew how expensive toilet paper was in the Bahamas, this would make even more sense.
Our plan was always to head east, exploring the curving Caribbean island chain, and high tail it to Panama when the time came. We knew the prevailing winds blow hard from the east and northeast during the winter, but we underestimated how time consuming, how uncomfortable, and how much diesel would be required head more-or-less straight into the wind. Entire books have been written on how to get to the windward islands of the Caribbean outside of hurricane season. Generally, you need one of two things. A lot of time or a lot of diesel. Although, often you need both. And, going with the latter option doesn’t just mean a hit to the budget, it also means banging your boat into the wind, into the waves, and still not expecting to make much headway as you force your sailing vessel into a powerboat, and instead of using the wind, you’re fighting it, taking one step backward for every two steps forward.
To us, this is clearly not what sailing should be about.
So, we are changing plans.
We will head to Matthew Town, the southernmost settlement in the Bahamas, then we’ll shot for Colombia, going through the Windward Passage between Cuba and Haiti. Let’s hope we don’t need to go ashore for emergency rations a day or two in. Although all this talk of lifting the embargo, makes a trip to the land of Castro and communism fairly enticing. Anyway, with any luck, we’ll be able to celebrate our first-year anniversary in the place where we got hitched. Seems much too serendipitous to pass up.
It wasn’t what we had in mind, and skipping out on the entire eastern Caribbean does bum us out a touch, but, hey, being from the states, they are right in our backyard and a good excuse to head out cruising again later on in life. We’ll get there. Eventually.
So for now, we’ll make the smart decision to go where the winds take us, and slot the eastern Carib for the next time around.