Sea Hunt

Photo: This is the little cove where we snorkeled.

[Hilde’s log]

We finally went snorkeling today. There’s a little cove on the Sea of Abaco side of Elbow Cay (Hope Town), right under the lighthouse, that looked just right to us beginners. It is shallow and is ringed with a nice sandy beach. That meant that I could stand up in the water in the shallows and get myself back into the dinghy, not something I can do in deep water. I don’t fancy being towed back into the marina like a sack of rocks, so I was happy to find this place. We dinghied out into the bay in our wetsuits, wearing our Joe Cool sunglasses, looking like we knew what we were doing.

The depth in the cove varies from a few inches near the shore to about 10-12 feet near the entrance. The bottom is covered with rough grass, about 6-8” long, with sandy patches scattered throughout. We anchored the dinghy in the shallows, donned our flippers and masks and snorkels, and hopped over the side. I abandoned my flippers almost immediately. They felt so weird on the ends of my legs, heavy and awkward, and I was panicking enough about breathing through the tube of my snorkel. After I took off the flippers, I felt much better about the whole thing. I discovered I could float along, propelling myself forward with my arms at a leisurely pace, and not run out of air.

I’m nearsighted as can be, but I could see everything very clearly through my mask.

The first creatures I discovered were cream colored, spongy, and puffy-round with scalloped edges. They had ruffled slits in their sides, like pita bread, and were rhythmically sucking water in and blowing it out as the water flowed past them. There were a lot of these little beasties scattered over the sandy areas. Some were small, 3-4” across, and others were more like 6-8”.

There were schools of teeny little striped fish, about 2-3” long, that darted this way and that in the grass. They were clear with brown stripes and blended in completely with the light glinting off the waving grass.

There were schools of really tiny little clear blue fish, maybe an inch long, zig-zagging through the water near shore.

Close to the entrance, in about 8 feet of water, I saw a really big fish, maybe 25-30 pounds, floating along sticking its head in the grass every once in a while. It was a non-descript grayish color with big yellow eyes. I paralleled it, moving slowly and trying not to look hungry. It kept a big yellow eye on me, but wasn’t overly alarmed. It moved off toward the bay and I was too chicken to follow it.

We saw a big, squishy cylindrical fellow with loose, rippling skin, yellow with purple markings. It wasn’t a fish or a jellyfish and no discernable parts – a sea slug, maybe?

There was also a very large sand dollar, the puffed up kind, not the flat kind.

The fish with the most personality was about 4” long, yellow and purple. It was hovering above a rock with some craters in it. When I came upon it, the fish was pecking at the craters, eating something invisible to me. It stayed right there on its rock, even when I moved away and came back with David.

The biggest and brightest find of the day was a huge sea star, about 15” across, light orange with dark red markings. Sea stars look like they would be so soft to touch, but it’s like petting rough concrete. I know that from touching one in the aquarium in Seattle a few years ago.

I looked in vain for the turtle we saw yesterday from the dinghy when we first discovered the cove. The turtle was after minnows and it zipped this way and that, scooting along just under the surface of the water at a high rate of speed. I really want to see one of those fellows close up in the water. No luck today.

We weren’t out that long. Even in the bright sunshine and the shallow water, we felt chilled. I bought bottled water and some snack crackers with us and we munched those and stripped off the wetsuits. Once we were dry and the gooseflesh had gone down a bit, we motored back to the anchorage. I sat astride the bow of the dinghy with my feet dangling into the water, laughing, as we bumped over the swells. The water is so clear, it’s like a gigantic swimming pool. I could get used to this place.

Man O'War Cay

[Hilde’s log]

April 18, 2008

What a picture perfect day we have had! After a brief stop at the fuel dock to replenish her diesel supply, Raven set off for Man O’War Cay about 9 a.m. It’s only 6.5 miles from Marsh Harbour, so even though we had to motor into what little wind there was, we got here about 10:45 or so. The channel is quite narrow, with rocks and sand jutting out either side, so we eased our way in, glad for the high tide. We are in the eastern anchorage, and it is crammed with boats. Most of them look unoccupied; I think most of the cruisers anchor out in front of the main town dock and marina to the west. It’s pretty shallow in here. As in so many other places (everywhere but Marsh Harbour so far) the water is like glass, completely clear.

David dropped the anchor in about 8 feet of water, over a sandy patch. He decided this was the perfect place to “dive on the anchor” for the first time. Diving on the anchor is exactly what it sounds like. You dive down to see if your anchor is set right, and if not, you set it by hand. Well. First of all, the water is still quite chilly. David donned his wetsuit and went over the side. When his bottom hit the waterline, he climbed right back out with a few choice remarks about the temperature. He’s such a cat, he really doesn’t like to be in the water in the first place, and he really doesn’t like to be in it when it’s cold.

I’m a fish, so I said I’d do it. I donned my wetsuit and dropped down in the clear water. Then I bobbed to the surface with quite a few choice words of my own about the temperature. Wo! It was glacial. Of course, I think anything less than 78 is glacial, but still. By the time I swam to the anchor, following the chain by looking through my snorkel mask, I was plenty warm enough. The chain snaked all over the place, but I finally found the anchor. It’s our CQR and it appeared to be lying on its side, with one of the flukes buried and the other visable. Upon that report, David backed Raven down and the CQR buried itself deeper, but still a bit on one side. It was fascinating to watch it dig itself in, like a large iron sea creature. David wanted to see for himself, so he dinghied over and leaned over the side, wearing his snorkel mask. Finally he decided he wanted to dive down and see if he could set it more firmly. He dropped into the water, fins and snorkel in place, which prevented me from hearing all the bad words that steamed up his mask. He flippered down a couple of times, but couldn’t get a purchase on the dratted thing. But there is always more than one way to skin a cat. He put the Danforth in the dinghy and motored out in front of Raven and set that anchor too.

Once we warmed up again with lunch and tea, we took the dinghy into the town dock. I climbed yet another ladder (I’m getting really good at that) and we spent the afternoon walking all over this lovely cay. Friends fussed to us that there isn’t much to do here, but golly I don’t know what else you’d want. Perhaps it’s just that Man O’War Cay doesn’t cater to tourists – there aren’t lots of places to shop, or eat, and no bars. The island is very pretty, covered with beautiful Easter egg colored houses, graced with a long Atlantic beach on one side and lots of boats and boat-related businesses on the other (also two gift shops, a shop that makes canvas bags and hats, two bakeries, a grocery, an ice-cream/snack/light dinner place, and a lunch place). It is criss-crossed with tiny one-lane roads, and the locals zip around, up and down, back and forth, in golf carts. We found real ice cream and each enjoyed a cone. We beach combed, took lots of photos, stopped in at the local grocery for (bountiful heavens!!!) a cold Dr. Pepper for me and a cold Diet Coke for David, and then ate dinner at outdoor picnic tables for a very reasonable price. We both had fried fish fingers made from actual fish (as opposed to the frozen square variety you find at home); David had enough French fries to satisfy even him and I had Bahamian peas and rice, which is exactly what it sound like. It’s a bit like fried rice with peas and crisp bacon mixed in, and is one of the national dishes.

Once back on board, we had a sundowner and relaxed, watching the sun set in the west and the full moon rise in the east, and listening to the cheerful song of birds. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed birdsong. We saw sparrows and woodpeckers and a big heron and I’m sure we heard wrens as well.

I found shells on the beach, we watched schools of fish swim by in the clear water, we had two dinghy rides, we walked all the way down the beach (which nearly killed me in the deep sand) and looked in all the tide pools, we watched the breakers smash against the rocks, throwing a fan of salty lace four feet in the air, we looked out over an ocean from the last land between here and Africa, and marveled yet again at the neon colors of the sea and the rushing line of breakers that stretched all the way along the island. May there never be anything else to do on Man O’War Cay.