Podimonium

I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I decide to jump in the water and scrape some growth off the boat. With snorkel, mask and fins and my trusty scraper - I'm fully armed and dangerous. The water is warm and visibility is decent - it must be about 60 feet. Scrape, scrape, scrape - there's a lot of boat and I'll be busy for awhile. Maybe Beth and J will jump in and help me at some point, I hope.

I'm About to Die

I take a deep breath and go deep to tickle the boat in its nether regions. It's calm and almost zen-like in the depths. I get back to the surface only to hear's Beth's hyper-excited scream of, "Ken, Ken, Ken!"

Of course, that could only mean I'm in mortal danger as a bunch of bull sharks are making a bee-line for me. I don't even think of looking around, I swim like mad for the back of the hull (the one without a ladder) and literally launch myself on top of it. My heart is pounding - I got a full dose of adrenaline on that one - but it saved my life.

Something Special

The screaming doesn't stop, "Ken, get back in the water!" Hmm, I thought we were pair-bonded for life. Wasn't that the whole point of getting married? Now, she want's me to be eaten for lunch?

Finally she starts making sense as her words sink in, "A pod of dolphins is in front of the boat!"

Here they come!

Now, we've seen quite a few dolphins in the last six months. They like to come up to the boat while it's underway and catch a bow-wave. Typically, they'll hang-out for a few minutes before going off to party somewhere else.

We've even seen them come near boats and people for minutes at a time. There were a couple of dolphins that frequented Elizabeth harbor and we'd see them from time to time. Once, they even came within a boat-length of us as they slowly investigated the shallow depths where we were anchored.

Mom and kid

We love dolphins and a dream has always been to swim with them, so it took little encouragement for me to plunge back into the water - hoping to get a brief glimpse before they went on their merry way.

Sure enough, I see hazy shapes coming towards me. It's a pod of seven dolphins. There seems to be a mom with a junior dolphin hanging close and a bunch of males, rowdy and randy.

Swirling mass of dolphins off the boat

It's a little hard to count them as they're constantly in motion and pairs break off and circle around and under the boat in different directions. Each time, they gather back together in a swirling graceful ballet as they twine themselves around each other.

Coming to check me out

Finplay

The female seems to be getting all the attention, so we think it is either some sexual play or actual attempts to convince her to go "all the way".  The males eagerly rub against her but she coyly turns away and makes a dash under the boat.

Beth is taking pictures from the boat while J is jumping around like a bag of superballs dumped on the stairs. Minutes go by and still the dolphins are circling the boat, going under it and me and getting close enough to touch. I yell at the girls to join me for the unbelievable experience.

They perform their dance

Beth's in first, followed by J. We don't need to swim out to them or even really follow them, they are strangely attracted to us and the boat.  We move from side to side at the stern of the boat, ensuring a quick getaway should the males get too rambunctious.  In truth, Jeanette becomes unnerved when they get too close - especially when they swim underneath her, mere inches away - and she is in and out of the water frequently.  She hangs on Beth and stays within arm's reach, mirroring the interplay between the mama and baby dolphin.

Again and again, they are a twisting mass of shapes as between 2-4 males swarm the female and circle us slowly en masse. She seems to be having fun and scoots away from all the attention from time to time - only to let them catch her and get close again.

I swim towards them and after they scan me with some clicks and whistles, they decide that this ungainly bony body isn't likely to be any threat. They come towards and below me as they tumble and turn in their play.

I keep my hands behind my back as I don't want to threaten them. If they are really excited, I also don't want them to mistake my fingers for yummy little white sardines.

Carefully watching them as they come underneath me

Still the dolphins circle us and play. Over and over again they come within an arm's length of us - gliding and twirling beneath, beside, and around us.  This is going on for so long now, that I go back to scraping the boat! They seem curious to see me hanging upside down under the boat and come over to check me out again.

Their permanent grins suggest there is nothing but fun on their minds. I wave the bright yellow scraper at them to see if they'll engage it in play. They seem to notice it and bounce some clicks off it. As they drift off, I start making weird underwater sounds - sort of a mix between an elephant rumble and a hyena's yip, to see if they'll be curious about it and return. They seem to, but then, they've been hanging out with us for over an hour and a half now.

More finplay

Finally, we get out of the water, and that seems to signal that the party is be over as they immediately speed off in unknown directions and we don't see a glimpse of them after that.

Definitely some magic loose in the world yesterday!


Check out this video. If you listen closely, you'll hear whistles and clicks as they pass by.

Leaving George Town

The Last Hurrah

Last month we hosted our last set of visitors – Michael and Lisa, from the Bay Area.  Being experienced sailors, they were game for just about anything.  After a couple of down days due to yet another cold front (something all of our visitors experienced!), we set the spinnaker and enjoyed a fast downwind run up to Rudder Cut Cay.  The currents there are very strong, and the moment we entered the cut, we were swept along between the numerous cays and rocks dotting the area.  

 

Swirling Currents at Rudder Cut

Entering Rudder Cut

Cave at Rudder Cut Cay

We spent a couple of days exploring caves, snorkeling, and diving on the mermaid (a stainless steel sculpture of a mermaid playing the piano).  David Copperfield, who owns Musha Cay, reportedly commissioned the sculpture and had it placed in about 15 feet of water.  The current was running so strong when we were there that, even with the dinghy anchored right beside it, I could barely swim hard enough to get a good look!  The next day we backtracked to Lee Stocking Island and explored the abandoned Caribbean Marine Research Center.   It was windy all week and not ideal for diving, especially for we “locals.”  It doesn’t take long for 70 degrees to start feeling chilly and we have become spoiled enough by the “good weather days” to feel more than a little reluctant to get in the water when it’s “cold” (i.e., < 79).   Nonetheless, our guests made the most of their time in the islands and we sent them home happy and tanned.

Mermaid and Piano

Michael discovers that Lisa will put up with him for another year

Saying Goodbye

Michael and Lisa left us in Emerald Bay, where we had ducked into the marina to catch our breath and do about 12 loads of laundry.  After a season of hand washing, it was nice to have sheets, towels, and clothing get a good cleaning in a real washing machine!  One more trip into George Town for provisioning and we were ready to go.  Nearly three months to the day after our arrival, we weighed anchor and began our return journey.  

Many of our newfound friends and cruising buddies had already departed and were drawing our thoughts north as we followed their progress.  How quickly time has flown!  When we first arrived, I was antsy and irritable, wondering why we’d worked so hard to come to this place and what in the world we were going to do here for months on end.  It took time for me to settle in – to myself, to the uncertainties cruising life, and, above all, to island time.  

Bit by bit, the constant need to be doing something gave way to the simplicity of waking up and allowing the day to unfold.  What a gift!  I began to understand the magic of the Exumas and why people are drawn here, year after year, like moths to a flame.  The clarity of the water, spectacular underwater beauty, rich marine life, protected anchorages, and reliable breezes make these islands a cruiser’s paradise.  The people who frequent this place create a warm and friendly community, always ready to pitch in and provide aid, or mentor and guide the inexperienced.  Although we were not part of the sundowner cocktails and Texas Hold ‘Em crowd, we relished our encounters with the homeschooling group and forged friendships with other cruising families.  We hope that our paths cross again and again up and down the coast and, perhaps, in George Town again next year.

Retracing our Steps

Transiting the Exuma island chain is planned according to sites on our wish list and provisioning opportunities.  Even after months of cruising, we haven’t warmed up to canned food.  We are fresh produce people, through and through.  In fact, I’m pretty sure that, left to their own devices, my Pimentels could easily be fruitarians.  There’s just no way that I can provision sufficiently to assure their daily rations of fresh fruit.  As for me, my fantasy is a small cabin-top kale garden to satisfy my greens’ cravings.  Leafy greens just take up too much space in our tiny refrigerator and by the time they reach market, they are usually just a day or two away from of a state of complete wilt.  

But, enough about food…  We sailed out of Elizabeth Harbor just before a front was to move through the area and anchored off Little Farmers Cay.  It was a small community, but the weather was really too unsettled for us to enjoy any time diving or snorkeling.  We left as soon as we could for Blackpoint Settlement on Great Guana Cay.  Blackpoint is a fairly large settlement with a school, post office, restaurants, and grocery stores.  We spent the better part of a Friday afternoon waiting for the postmistress to return from lunch (she showed up at 4:00) so that we could meet the postmark deadline for our taxes.  We stopped by the grocery store, just for fun, and were able to scrounge up a couple of items, but no eggs.  Finally, we moved on to Staniel Cay and better weather. 

 

Over Yonder Cut (Makai ahead)

Staniel Cay

The water at Staniel Cay was flat calm and clear.  We spent the morning doing a drift dive tied to our dinghy as we sped past beautiful corals, basket sponges, and sea fans.  Ken gamely held onto a pole spear but there really was no way that he would have been able to catch anything in such a strong current.  As we were swept out toward the cut, we climbed back into the dinghy and found a calmer place to snorkel and fish, closer to the boat and out of the ebb.  

Diving at the edge of a small rocky islet, we saw our first moray eel in these islands.  Ken speared a couple of snapper and we called our morning’s work complete.  That afternoon, we joined our friends from Makai and snorkeled in Thunderball Grotto.  The tourist boats had cleared out hours before and we had the place all to ourselves.  I took dozens of pictures, but the lighting just isn’t conducive to capturing the brilliant colors of the reef fish and corals, and far exceeds the limitations of our GoPro camera.   

Thunderball Grotto above and below

Anchorage near Staniel Cay

The Grotto is a “no take” zone and the fish are big and tame, eagerly approaching us in hopes of a handout.  At the Staniel Cay Yacht Club that evening, we saw a different sort of mooching as several nurse sharks patrolled under the docks for fish scraps.  The yacht club is an institution here; its walls lined with pictures dating back to the early days of the cay’s history and the family that settled on the island and established the club.  Over the years, the yacht club has expanded to include a small marina and a half dozen or so colorful cottages perched on the water’s edge.  There’s no shortage of rustic charm and character here. 

Top of the Majors to Norman’s Cay

The next few days we meandered from cay to cay and anchorage to anchorage, from Top of the Majors to Norman’s Cay.  We played and basked on vast expanses of sandbars, snorkeled a wonderland of reefs, dove on wrecked planes, and filled our bellies and freezer with fresh fish (thanks to Roy and Ken).  Norman’s Cay was of particular interest to Ken as he had recently read the story about the drug lord, Carlos, who created his own kingdom there in the ‘80’s.   In April, Hammerhead sharks congregate in the “pond” (actually a lagoon) there to mate.  We drove the dinghy into the lagoon in hopes of spotting Carlos’ mansion (we didn’t) and at least one Hammerhead (none), but settled for a lovely ride and a long walk on the beach.  As Makai set off for Nassau to drop off/pick up guests, we moved on, too, taking advantage of northwest winds to head for Eleuthera.

 

Jeanette and Marie play with the fish

Beth checks out the upside down plane

Can you spot the lobster - unfortunately we were in a marine preserve - or else!

Beth capturing dreamscapes

Small Lemon Shark and fish carcass

Points North

Easter Sunday found us sailing across Exuma Sound to Rock Sound Harbor on the southern end of Eleuthera.  We’ll spend the next few days traveling along the coast to Spanish Wells, and by the end of next week we’ll be in the Abacos, waiting for a weather window to take us north.  Our destination is still a little nebulous, but to comply with our boat insurance terms, we must be north of Cape Hatteras, NC by June 1^st.  The Chesapeake Bay is our most likely summer home, as it meets our criteria for easy and inexpensive boat yard access.  While our projects during this trip have been performed on the water, it’s time to haul this baby onto “the hard” and give her a good going over.  Our season in the Exumas over, we are already looking forward to coming back!

Exumas - End of the Rainbow

10,000 mm Beneath the Sea*

Anchorage at Water Cay in the Jumentos

We recently returned from our second trip to the Jumentos. These are a scattered chain of mostly uninhabited islands, some no bigger than your house, that lie about 50 miles south of Georgetown. They are not much visited and there are no supplies or help if you get into trouble. These challenges are actually appealing to cruisers looking for a more untouched experience. They have another feature, too:  fish! There are thousands of small reefs and coral heads that support communities of sea-life that only rarely feel the savage sting of a cruiser’s fishing spear.  Because of the reduced hunting, you get a chance to see schools of larger fish you almost never see up in Georgetown (or at least, we’ve never seen in our many underwater explorations), fish with names like, "Hog Fish", "Grey Triggerfish," and larger snapper varieties. They are all good eating so cruisers take aim and the sound of spear points pinging against coral ring across the reefs. 

 

A visual delight: Passing through Hog Cay Cut

The World Below Us

On our first expedition here, we found a nicely populated area of coral about 20-30' deep. The first thing I noticed was the incredible clarity of the water. I could see at least a couple hundred feet in all directions. The world was bounded by this pale blue milky horizon hundreds of feet away. The brilliant white sand of the bottom reflects a lot of light, so every rock or coral head is cast in sharp relief. If you can imagine a swimming pool the size of an ocean tanker, with a white bottom and scattered coral mounds, then you have basically the idea of what we’re swimming in. Throw in a huge assortment of fish, add a barracuda or two and the rare shark – now you have the whole picture.

A bull shark comes to the boat to check us out

Jeanette relaxes BEFORE the shark arrives

Jeanette and Marie from Makai enjoy the water despite the circling shark

Many coral heads are multi-storied structures reaching up 20’ or more with jagged holes randomly distributed that harbor various denizens. There's the dreaded Lionfish in all its finery, slowly drifting about as if they were the main attraction.  Lionfish released from aquariums are now taking over Caribbean reef ecosystems as they have no predators and they feed on small reef fish. Despite having poisonous spines, they are supposedly good eating, so many divers spear them, cut their spines off and eat them. We haven't reached that level of bravery, so we look elsewhere for a meal.

 

Hanging out with our friends on Makai at Buena Vista Cay in the Jumentos

Dinner!

We are the swooping birds of prey in this underwater world as we take deep breaths and plunge to the lower levels, grabbing hold of the coral and pulling our faces (while upside down) into holes to see who is home. Invariably, there are bigger fish who glance at this bizarre creature at their door before disappearing into a deeper cavern with a flick of a fin. Those that wait too long will become dinner.

Face to Face

I learn how to clean a fish

As I’ve done more of these cavern-to-cavern house searches, I’ve become bolder about how far my face will go into a hole. I really haven’t seen any threats other than the lionfish. A bigger risk is brushing against some fire coral if you’re not careful. Most coral is safe to touch, but there are a couple types that will dramatically alter your experience. This is the primary reason I, and others, wear a wetsuit. It isn’t the cold that will get you – it’s the coral.

After poking around for 30 seconds or so, we slowly ascend and prepare for another visit. Eventually, we’ll find something worthwhile to spear and then we pull the struggling fish/lobster to the surface and hold them high above us – seemingly a celebratory gesture, but actually to keep their struggles from summoning critters we don’t care much for – barracuda and sharks.

Once we’ve caught enough for a dinner or two, or we’ve scared away the big fish, we go visit another neighborhood (reef). We’ll keep this up all day, breaking for an hour or two at lunch time.

Sir Baron Lockhart

While down at an island, Buena Vista, we met a 70-year-old character named Edward Lockhart who was singlehandedly trying to build a farm/house on the main beach. He had cleared several acres and planted various trees and vegetables. His house is a ramshackle, one-story structure, and he is working to add another story. He lives in this 3-walled building while tending his 13 chickens, several peacocks, a turkey, various wild goats and a couple of dogs. He told us he was hoping to prove that the island belonged to the Lockharts through some Baron Lockhart a couple of centuries ago. While waiting for proof to arrive, he took a lease from the government and started his project some decades ago. His parents used to spend time on the island and he was supposedly born on it. Now, he’s the only person living there and is fighting off the rats and surviving.

I had asked Edward where the lobsters were, and later the afternoon, he climbed in our dinghy to show me his favorite spots. Unfortunately, the lobsters were absent, but we did learn a key fact. Lobsters avoid the sun, so they crawl deeper into their holes during the day. The best time to catch lobsters is early morning when they are still out on their ledges and chatting with one another. Sure enough, the next morning we easily caught lobsters where before we didn’t see any. I found 3 under a single ledge – so we gathered more lobsters in one hour than we had the previous day.

The shallow water of Buena Vista Cay

Reefs Ahoy 

It seems all the little fluorescent fish you see in aquariums are here in ample supply. They are darting about the coral heads, brilliant streaks of color that sparkle in the sun-lit water. There are “clouds” of golden grunts that hover over the coral and seamlessly blend in with their surroundings. During one reef exploration, a school of roughly 500 jack (about 1’ long) came through and we were in the middle of these silvery flashes of light as they coordinated their turns and pivots. It’s a constantly evolving dance of color and form as we move from reef to reef.

Cool little cave you can dinghy into at Flamingo Cay

A Meal Fit for Kings

After diving the reefs one day, we gathered on the beach at Flamingo Cay with three other cruising boats to grill our day's catch. The three other boats more than made up for our somewhat dismal results that day as there were more lobster and fish than we could eat - and we were hungry! It was a perfect ending to a wonderful trip to the forgotten isles of the Jumentos. We'll be back!

 

Chilling on the beach at Flamingo Cay

*Note: 10,000 mm = 32.8 feet