It was hard to leave Warderick Wells behind, but we were up with the dawn to depart as soon as the sun rose. We had a 50 nautical mile (as the crow flies) beat ahead of us, so an early start was key. We raised a reefed main in the channel where seas were lumpy but not as bad as I worried they might be, and rolled out a reefed jib to keep our speed slow to minimize slamming. Not surprisingly, we were the only boat beating our way north. We were still within VHF range for Cheri’s morning announcement and radioed to inform her of our departure and thank her and the crew for their efforts. She thanked us for helping rally people for the second Saturday cruisers’ get-together (she’d forgotten to announce it) and wished us safe travels in the rough conditions – she must have seen our rolly trip out the cut.
Managing the sail plan was difficult – one minute, we were seeing 20+kt winds and reefed sails were perfect, and the next we were wanting more sail to keep us moving as the wind dropped into the mid-low teens. We shook the reef out of the jib once, but the wind piped back up to 25 and we started to get slammy, so we reefed again.
As we closed with the Eleuthera coast, the waves settled back and the wind calmed, so we waited a bit then shook out the reefs and had a couple hours of beautiful sailing until just after the muted, but pretty, sunset. We dropped anchor in Ten Bay shortly after dark, by which time the water was like glass – a stark contrast to the day’s conditions. It took a minute to get the anchor to set in the grassy bottom, but we eventually got it to bite.
Our choice of Ten Bay as an anchorage was perfect – it was a pretty little spot that put us within an easy sail of Hatchet Bay. We had a lazy start to the day, enjoying our coffee in the cockpit while we took in our surroundings. We had gorgeous light-air downwind sailing that slowly built through the day but remained relatively calm – a lovely contrast to our long beat the previous day.
We spent two days in Hatchet Bay, which is incredibly well protected. The entrance is a man-made cut blasted through the limestone and while it’s 27m/90ft wide, it definitely feels smaller than that! There were a lot of boats already there, but we found a good spot to anchor that we hoped would be out of the way of any incoming commercial vessels. There were already a few other boats anchored in the area, so we figured we were safe (and we were).
We’d heard so much about Boaters Haven that we had to make a stop. We grabbed a couple Kaliks and had burgers out on the back deck while we watched the sunset, and played with Emmett’s adorable granddaughter. Emmett broke out his guitar to play for us, and by the end, we were singing along with him, “No other island will keep you smilin’ like Eleuthera.” In addition to the restaurant and bar (frequented by boaters and locals alike), he has a small convenience store stocked with just enough staples to tide you over – nothing fresh really, but toiletries, canned goods, cold drinks, and ice cream bars.
Our hope was to rent a car so we could see more of Eleuthera, but there was a big funeral in town and there were no cars available. Instead we decided to walk over to the Atlantic side beach. On our walk, we found a pair of abandoned silos from a failed cattle farming venture started in the 1930s and operational into the 80’s. We did NOT expect to find the abandoned cattle, namely two bulls grazing along the road. We stopped a good distance away with the hope that they’d move on, but they didn’t so we chose to turn around. Instead, we walked around town a bit. Alice Town (the actual name of the town, which is now more commonly called Hatchet Bay) is a relatively poor Black Bahamian community, but we found the people to be friendly and welcoming.
We stopped for lunch at the Beach Pot, which we’d been told was good, and we were not led astray. The portions were HUGE, and the BBQ chicken, peas n’ rice, and pasta salad were all fantastic (honestly, that might have been the best pasta salad I’ve ever had!).
Our vacation ended with an early morning departure from Hatchet Bay and a quick motor up to the Glass Window and Queen’s Baths. The Glass Window Bridge is the narrowest place in Eleuthera – on one side, you get the deep blues of the open Atlantic and on the other, you have the light, bright blues that are the trademark of The Bahamas. It’s a cool spot, but I wish I’d been wearing sneakers because you really need to climb up one of the limestone hills beside the bridge to be able to fully experience it (or fly a drone). I learned that lesson once already, though!
We also headed over to the Queen’s Baths, a set of natural pools that are filled by the Atlantic Ocean at high tide. As the tide goes out, the sun warms the pools, which are filled with juvenile sea life (we saw juvenile parrotfish, sergeant majors, hermit crabs, gobies and lots of sea urchins). Set against the rugged limestone terrain, the pools are absolutely stunning, and it’s one of those places that’s almost hard to believe is real.
We headed back to the boat and found ourselves among 17 boats at anchor – when we arrived, it was only us and one other. We hauled anchor in time to catch a bit of fair current taking us back through Current Cut and dropped the hook again off of Meeks Patch in time to enjoy a beautiful sunset and have a nice dinner to close out the week. The only bad part of the day was when I somehow pulled a muscle in my back getting out of the dinghy. Apparently I’ve reached “that age.”
Tomorrow we head into Spanish Wells Yacht Haven, the first time we’ll have been in a marina since we left Lucaya over a month ago, and I find that I’m equal parts excited and bummed. Last season, we spent a few weeks at the Yacht Haven and it’s a great spot – and we definitely need some time ashore to take care of errands – but I’ve really loved all the time we’ve spent out on the hook.
