Most of Tuesday was spent taking care of laundry at Long Island Breeze Resort (beautiful views) and grocery shopping as we planned to sail north along Long Island the next day.
With laundry wrapped up, groceries bought and loaded aboard, Matt headed out to get fuel for the generator. He stopped at a local dock where Ted was talking with a Bahamian fisherman named Rodger. Matt joined the conversation and later inquired about buying lobster. Without hesitation, Rodger handed him five tails and despite several pleas to pay, he refused to take any money in exchange. Overjoyed by Bahamian generosity once again, Matt thanked him profusely and brought our gifts home as a welcomed surprise.
Wednesday morning, we pulled up the hook and left Thompson Bay and with the wind at our backs, we set sail for Calabash Bay. That made for downwind sailing which just happens to be the best and most leisurely point of sail. With Kaleo running wing-on-wing (the jib out to port and the main out to starboard) we cruised along at 5.5 knots under puffy white clouds through electric blue waters. (Think the color of Sonic’s Ocean Water.)
For lunch, Matt grilled two lobster tails on the cockpit BBQ and we melted drawn butter in the sun. It was a gold star cruising day as we lounged back with bellies full of delicious lobster.
We arrived at Calabash Bay to find it rolly and somewhat uncomfortable, so we tracked back a few miles to the more protected cove of Joe’s Sound. The charts say the entrance is “narrow and tricky” with a “rocky bottom and swift current”. The chart was right. We pulled up to an entrance about 30 feet wide with coral and rocks on both sides. What made it tricky was that the only trail through the water deep enough for Kaleo was about 10 feet wide and made a snaky “S” curve through the rocks.
With Christie on the front shouting the direction of deeper water, and Matt piloting Kaleo, we were almost all the way through when the boat slid to a halt in soft sand (thankfully not rock). No amount of motor forward nor backward would release us as the current pushed us deeper aground. “Morning Glory”, who had just entered the cut before us, turned back, tossed a tow line our way, and with their help and the rising tide, we cut through the sand bar like an elephant would struggle to fit through a dog door.
In for the night, Matt set two anchors to keep us in the narrow channel when the tide shifted. The reward for navigating the entrance and extra anchoring work was a peaceful, glassy calm spot surrounded on all sides by low hills and tidal flats.
N 23° 37.67 / W 75° 19.95
