Thursday, March 10, 2016

Shroud Cay to Wardrick Wells

3/8/16 -3/9/16   Shroud Cay    24 32.065N    76 47.926W    16.9NM
With fewer boats at Allans Cays Monday evening, we watched the sun set, unobstructed, behind the clouds on the Exuma Bank.  The wind continued to whistle in the rigging all night, as we rocked in the current.  It might have been smoother if we'd reanchored on the other side of the sandbank after some of the boats had departed, but it was easier to stay put.

Sunset at Allans Cays
An 'oh shit' from Leonard as we started to take in the anchor proved worthy of phrase.  The gears on the windlass broke when he stepped on the up button.  No, we don't carry a spare, and we won't be getting a replacement in the Bahamas. Although the Bahamas have no income tax, everything imported into the country is taxed (VAT), and in this case 40%, to say nothing of the paperwork, shipping and logistics.  Luckily the windlass can be used with a winch handle, not ideal, but considerably easier on an aging back than hauling by hand (60' 5/16" chain and 35# of anchor).  It's less of a problem in the Bahamas since we usually anchor in fairly shallow water (10'-12') and we can motor toward the anchor as we pick it up.  We'll need to make sure the anchor is well set to avoid any midnight Chinese fire drills, at which time it could present a bigger problem.

White caps on the bank, looking toward the marina on Highborne Cay as we sailed past
The wind showed no sign of easing back, blowing steadily around 20kts with a few gusty periods.  We ran out a bit of the jib once we cleared the shoals and had a fast, somewhat salty, sail down to Shroud Cay.  It would be great if we could stay tucked close to the chain of cays, but the Exuma bank has numerous shoals extending W, some distance out into the bank, and the cays bend a bit to the SE toward Georgetown on Great Exuma Cay, the Jumentos and eventually Cuba.  Reaching was great - we were doing between 6-7kts, but after clearing Norman Cay Spit (2.5NM out), the course to Shroud was more to windward, and with several miles of fetch and shoal water, we had short, choppy 2' seas that occasionally splashed on deck.  So much for our salt free decks, a quick rain shower would have been appreciated, but although there were clouds, no rain appeared.  Wiping helped, but didn't remove all of the salt, and we don't carry enough fresh water to wash the boat.  We joined a fleet of vessels either on the park moorings or anchored at the deeper of the Shroud Cay anchorages.  Two of the anchorages are charted as shoal with less than 1.5meters, great for multihulls and trawlers, but a bit iffier for deeper drafts.

Panoramic view looking at Shroud Cay and anchorage from a cay by the sand spit
(entrance to the creek to beach is upper left)
After lunch, we headed ashore in the dinghy, hoping to go to the beach on the sound via one of the creeks that flow through Shroud Cay.  Unfortunately, it was new moon, and we'd arrived at low tide, we didn't make it past the sand bar close to the entrance.  Instead we walked along a sand spit to several little cays before it disappeared as the tide rose.  By the time we finished our dinghy ride, we were salty and in need of a quick rinse.

Lynnea walking on the sand spit  - we watched a dinghy motor across at high tide
The wind clocked another 20 degrees overnight (into the SE) , and continued to blow, and not forecast to abate until the weekend.  With more fetch, the boat danced and bobbed all night as we listened to the sound of the trade winds moaning in the rigging.  We considered moving, but opted to wait for a day since we weren't in a hurry - crossing the Wide Opening would be messy in these conditions.  The wind backed into the E again by evening on Wednesday and picked up a bit.  One monohull ventured into one of the 'skinny' anchorages during the day to avoid the swell and we wondered if it would be any calmer.

We've been enjoying the beautiful, clear waters in the Bahamas.  The colors are varied and vivid.  Unfortunately photos, ours at least, don't do them justice.  Much of the  ICW looks like root beer due to the amount of tannin in the water, akin to bad coffee.  Here, with some practice, the water depths can be judged by color and help to avoid grounding on a sand bar or coral in good light.  The darker the blue, the deeper the water, green usually indicates a grassy bottom, the darker the color, the deeper - white or brown and you're in trouble, while black indicates a coral head, best avoided.  We listened to a vessel that misjudged the depths going into the N harbor at Warderick Wells and stopped short.  I suspect they met a lot of new friends by the time they got to their mooring (sailors are a helpful bunch).  It's a narrow, winding channel into the moorings, dodging moored boats and the banks that go dry on either side at low water.  When the current's running, it can be difficult to pick up the mooring lines.  We've had problems and watched others struggle as well over the years.

Looking on the brighter side, with all the wind, bugs aren't an issue, neither is power.  We've had to shut down the wind generator to keep from over charging the batteries - it's earning its keep!  After shutting the wind generator off much of the day, we were only down 11 amp hours.  Amazing what 20kts of wind and some sun can do.  If we were connected, we could sell power to the grid.  Meanwhile, we'll bob and weave, wishing for a tad less wind.  Leonard commented these conditions are like what we encountered 2 years ago in Marathon when we missed a  weather window by days.  It blew out of the E for over a month, 20 + kts, nonstop, and folks waited in Marathon until April before crossing the gulf stream.  Today, on his weather broadcast, Chris Parker predicted 8'-9' seas in the gulf stream, hardly anyone's idea of a good time, no matter which way you're headed.

Tropic birds
It's spring, and we watched as the white-tailed tropic birds performed their ritual mating flights overhead.  We were alerted to their presence by their calls.  They're beautiful, with long tails, about half their body length (some 30" overall), and their undersides reflecting the turquoise of the water.  They nest on several of the cays in the park from February thru August and are considered vulnerable to extinction, 2,000 - 3,000 pair down from 10,000 pair 20 years ago (approximately 500 pair breed in the Bahamas).  Breeding begins at about 4 years, and pairs lay a single egg in nests in cavities and on the cliffs. They rarely come to land except to breed and, with legs well back on their bodies, have trouble walking on land  They are members of the pelican family, diving head first into the water after small fish and squid.  Air sacks in their necks break the impact of the dive.  Like pelicans, they swallow their catch before resuming flight.  Getting the camera to focus on them can be difficult, even on shore, much less from a constantly moving platform.  Leonard did a great job!  

3/10/16    24 29.036N    76 46.391W    Hawksbill Cay    4.7NM

We headed for the beach a bit before high tide to have enough water to clear all the sand bars in the creek, crossing the sand spit near the boat with no problem.  We opted to stop by the longer beach, S of Camp Driftwood, anchoring the dinghy in ankle deep water and wading ashore behind the beach.  The surf was crashing onto the rocks and beach, and we were glad we wouldn't need to attempt to beach a dinghy in the surf.  With the tide still rising, we  had over an hour before we'd need to think about rescuing the dinghy, enjoying having the beach to ourselves.  Unfortunately, as is frequently the case, there was more trash than shells on the beach, and we helped the cause by picking up a bit, adding to the pile gathered under a tree.

With plenty of water in the creek, we dinghied over to check out Camp Driftwood, reportedly built a hermit, a bit further N.  Our day could have been a lot more exciting, but thankfully wasn't.  The creek empties into the sound at Camp Driftwood, a narrow cut that packs a lot of current.  As we approached, it wasn't clear which way the current was flowing, but became very obvious when we slowed to make a turn onto the beach just up the creek - it was flowing out, probably over 3kts.  Dinghies can be tricky to maneuver, especially in current, and as we turned, we were carried toward some sharp rocks and would have been taken out to sea (same waves we'd been glad we weren't trying to time to land a dinghy).  Fortunately the outboard didn't stall, but it took full throttle to get us headed back in the right direction.  Visiting Camp Driftwood no longer seem like such a great idea.

Surf rolling in from the Exuma Sound at Shroud Cay
Instead, we explored the creek system. The mangrove swamp which pretty much fills the interior, serves as a nursery for many species of fish, and over the years, we've seen small sharks swimming alongside the dinghy. The chart indicated another entrance at the N end of the furthest anchorage that we've never tried.  After a few 'S' curves, with no visual indication as to how the creek would get past some small bits of higher ground, we exited onto the bank, the creek much deeper than the one by the boat.  We checked out the other anchorages (calmer than ours) as we tucked in along the lee shore.  By the time we got back, the sand spit was too shallow to cross, and the more circuitous route around the small cays made for a longer run into the waves to get back to the boat.  I was drenched by the time we arrived.

Looking at the chart, the deeper anchorage at the S end of Hawksbill Cay wouldn't offer any more protection than where we were, but it would be different, and about 5NM closer to Warderick Wells, the park headquarters.  We debated sailing, but since half the distance would be to windward, we just motored (neither wind generator nor solar panel makes hot water, running the engine does).  We did a short 180 when the depth by a shoal read less than charted to avoid 'finding the bottom' not a good idea on a falling tide.  As we approached Hawksbill, we noticed a large yacht and numerous sail boats with drafts comparable to ours, anchored in the more protected anchorage along the W side of the cay, with a charted approach of 1.4 meters, just under 5', (we never saw less than 7').  We decided to do a slow approach to see how far in we could get, and were surprised to find enough depth and slightly deeper water as we closer to shore, so we joined the fleet, with about a foot of water under the keel at low tide.  The anchorage was closer to a beach and the trail head to the trail over to the sound, with less fetch and hopefully less swell.

After lunch we set about removing some of the salt accumulation from the deck and stanchions, and wiping the hull.  With less wind and wave action it was a bit easier to do.  The wind dropped back into the low teens for part of the afternoon, only to build back up to 20 after dark, giving us the opportunity to see how much protection, if any, this anchorage provided.  It was much better.

Hawksbill Anchorage
Friday morning we headed ashore.  We've never hiked the trail to the beach at the N end of the island, so we took a left at the fork.  We still didn't reach the beach.  The trail petered out with an alternative of skirting the cliffs overlooking the sound.  With the waves breaking just below, I wasn't a happy camper, so we headed back.  By the time we got to the trail overlooking the beach to the S, a dark cloud, threatening rain was approaching from the SE.  One shower had just missed us, but this one wouldn't.  We didn't mind getting wet, but the ports were open on the boat, and, with the memory of the recent deluge in Nassau, we headed back to the boat, we could always go back ashore once the weather cleared up.  It did rain, but not much.

We went ashore in the afternoon at low tide, and met Larry and Lynn, folks who'd been the host boat at the moorings at Cambridge Cay (another of our favorite stops).  I took a long walk on the beach while Leonard found some shade.  He'd stopped to look at a piece of interesting flostom that had washed ashore well above the high tide mark.  Upon closer inspection, it looked like it might have been part of a rocket, with a thick layer of aluminum honeycomb material under a skin of fiberglass.  It remains a mystery.

Not sure what this is - Perhaps parts of a rocket booster
Detail of Aluminum honey comb and fiber glass exterior
We'd just gotten back to the boat when a neighbor dinghied over to invite us to join a group on the beach to watch the sun set.  We joined them and got to met some of our neighbors.  The main topic was the recent winds, which have been keeping folks at anchor - a case of too much of a good thing.  While many are returning to the states, we did meet a few that we'll likely see again as we head S.  

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