West End, Grand Bahama Island

photo #1: flying the quarantine flag
photo #2: West End, Grand Bahama Island
photo #3: dockside paperwork
photo #4: official! Flying the Bahamian courtesy flag

[Hilde’s log]

Good morning from the Bahamas! It’s about 8 a.m. and I’m waiting for the tea to steep. We’re at the dock at the Old Bahama Bay Resort at West End, having finally arrived yesterday afternoon at 5 p.m. after almost two years with this in mind (we left Seabrook, Texas on April 14, 2006). The waters here at the dock are the cloudy turquoise I remember from our stop in the Florida keys. Coming in yesterday, close to the island, it was clear enough to see the dolphins playing on the bow wake.

Raven left Hillsboro Inlet about 7 a.m. yesterday, at first light. The inlet is a tricky affair, mostly because of the strong current that can run around three knots when it really gets going. It’s not a straight exit, as you have to dodge some shoaling, so it’s not an exit you want to use in high winds or strong current. David maneuvered Raven through on a weak current and no wind. As much as we like southern Florida, we were both thrilled to watch it recede into the distance.

The Gulf Stream behaved itself after 12 hours of a light east wind and although it was a bit lumpy we made great time, most of it 8 knots or greater. Our GPS log last night showed a top speed of 8.9 knots, which is quite something for this old girl (Raven, not me!). Once across the stream, we unfurled the sails, hooked up George, the Monitor the wind vane, and enjoyed a fantastic three-hour sail toward our landfall at West End. Along the way, we passed a number of Portugese Man O’War jellyfish, the sun glistening on their clear, pink-tinged “sails”. I was amused, thinking of this tiny armada advancing on the unsuspecting Florida coast.

The deep ocean waters were as beautiful as I remembered, and changed color all day. The blues ranged from india ink dark to turquoise, not to mention what David called “Plato blue” (being the blue of perfection). The little medallions of golden seaweed drifted by and I felt like I was seeing old friends from the Gulf crossing two years ago.

Later in the afternoon we sailed through flights of flying fish. Shooting up about an inch above the waves, these little fighter jets of the sea scoot at high speed for about 100 feet, wings in a flurry of motion, before exploding back into the water like so much buckshot. From the deck, you can’t tell much about them – they look silver and fast. But I remember the one we saw in Beaufort, NC, floating near the top of the water. It was all colors, mostly purple and gold, about 10 inches long. I knew it was a flying fish from the shape of its “wings”, but I never expected the beautiful, shimmering colors.

I had a great crossing, but poor David suffered miserably from a tension headache and tender stomach most of the day. We both fared much better than we did when we first pushed off from Galveston two years ago. That trip started off with three solid days of seasickness for both of us. I was very, very grateful we didn’t have a replay of that experience. I think it helped that neither of us used those darn patches. I think they made us sick! It also helped me that I wasn’t terrified, like I was two years ago. My heart was light as a feather and I couldn’t help squealing “Isn’t this great? Isn’t this a beautiful day? What a great day! Look at the sea!”, etc., until I am quite sure my not-so-happy husband was ready to push me overboard. Fortunately he wasn’t feeling well enough to do that.

The last hour of the day was the most challenging. We furled the sails and motored toward Grand Bahama Island (West End being, appropriately, on the western tip of the island). The sea was simply churning, with three and four foot rollers heaving Raven side to side as we approached the jetties. I have taken a number of lopsided photos of our approach, holding the camera over the gunwhales as I wedged my foot in the hatchway to keep from sliding to the other side of the boat. David took her in, me relieving him at the helm for a bit so he could fix the yellow quarantine flag to the pennant jack (de rigeur for entering a foreign port – this was our first foreign port!).

I did donuts in the small turning basin right outside the marina while David attached our docklines and then David slid us into the marina and into our slip. We were met by a friendly Bahamian dockhand who helped us tie up, we filled out a sheaf of paperwork, David took that to the powers that be, they stamped us in and relieved us of our cruising fee, and we were in. David put up the Bahamian flag on the pennant jack and we clambered up on the docks and joined our friends, Luisa and Jay from Airborne (we last saw them at our anchorage on Prince’s Creek, off the Waccamaw River, SC, in December), for that long desired pina colada at the bar on the beach – as the sky opened and a torrent of rain fell for about an hour.

The resort here is really beautiful and tasteful, with all the amenities. There are beach chairs and umbrellas lined up on the crescent shaped beach, there’s an open air bar, and a beautiful heated swimming pool in the lushly landscaped interior courtyard. I wouldn’t mind staying for a few days. But we’re on a mission, so we’ll fill up with water this morning and take showers, and then we are headed off to Mangrove Cay, up the Indian Key Channel, to anchor out tonight. Tomorrow we’ll head to Great Sale Cay where we will stay at anchor for a few days til the coming norther comes and goes, and then we will head for the Abacos Islands. No wi-fi for awhile, so no posts or email replies until we find another place with amenities.