No, not “and you are out” as in baseball, but better, like in bowling when you get three strikes in a row….as in: we have stuck land for the third time in the Bahamas.  First the Bimini Islands, then the Berrys, and now the Abacos!   Feeling more like novices, than rookies now.  Only 10, 12, 15…? More island groups to go (this could take a while).   Bimini – hustle and bustle, the ultra-rich and the very poor, contrasted; the Berrys – more remote and laid-back example of Caribbean culture with a smattering of US/Canadian vacation homes.  The Abacos?…well our much-traveled cruising mentors, Mark and Julie Kaynor described the Abacos as “Florida East”.   And they seem dead right.

Like Florida, there are little quiet places in the Abacos, like our Venice by comparison to Sarasota; but there are also fast-paced, high-traffic places like Tampa/Miami…only in miniature.   Our first stopover in the Abacos was Little Harbour:  one bar, no churches, dirt roads, no marinas, disserted beach, and eclectic artists…nice!   We tried to get to Hope Town next, but were rejected…no room in the harbor (notice the spelling), no room at the marinas, and no room in the anchorage outside the harbor….no place to park, just like Miami.  So we sailed over to Marsh Harbour, the “big city” of the Abacos, where there is always room to anchor, but you would not want to swim in the water, much like, like, well Tampa; even during Buc’s games, there is always parking available.

And now, we have finally arrived in Hope Town, which reminds me more of Catalina Island, off of the coast of southern California.  In the 60’s and 70’s, you were hard pressed to find a mooring in Catalina (at least at Avalon) on a summer weekend.  We only got into the Hope Town harbour, because I sprang for a marina berth, in honor of the admiral’s 63^rd birthday on April Fool’s Day (oh, I was not supposed to tell how old Miss Deb is).   Here in HT, boutique tourism has taken over the town.  Nearly all of the houses, in the main area of town, are rentals; brightly painted, but quaint old tiny places.  Everything neat and tidy…but you have got to love the beaches and reefs;  beautiful, clean, almost pink sand beaches with water so blue, so many colors of blue…well it hurts your eyes.  We might stay in Hope Town until the weekend…but then we are outta here (never liked Catalina on the WE either).

We are meandering our way north…closer to Great Sale Cay, the standard “jumping off” place for a trip back across the Gulf Stream and back to Florida.  Hurricane season is approaching.

     High ZZ’s has reached another milestone…two different island chains in the Bahamas!  We have gone from establishing just a toehold, to establishing a foothold in another country.  A lesson, too often re-learned, was taught in the meantime.   I have never followed the “herd mentality”, most often choosing to go our own way….you know…making a hot tub out of an antique runabout, not just teaching wildland fire, but actually participating, retiring early to sail off into the sunset with no intention of cashing in on my “consulting” opportunities; the list is endless.   But this trip, we succumbed.   We had every intension of waiting in the secure and quite surrounds of our anchorage in north Bimini and departing for the Barry Islands at midnight Saturday, after the wind and eight day’s worth of wind-driven swells, had subsided, and mild motoring into 5-10kts of headwind, and only 2 ft seas, would make for a boring but easy passage due east.   But instead, we saw boat after boat with our friends leaving early Saturday afternoon, in the light conditions that were prevalent in the lee of North Bimini.

So we succumbed; headed out with them with the idea of anchoring outside in the lee of the whole island, and then leaving at midnight to cross the Great Bahama Bank.   But as soon as we got outside the harbor, we noticed a wicked westerly swell (coming out of nowhere, unpredicted) that would have made anchoring “outside” very uncomfortable.   So, as the rest of the herd was deciding to just press on, all but us going further south to Nassau, we also decided to press on.   After rounding North Rock, we found the same mild conditions that our friends were talking about on the radio that they encountered on the bank south of Cat Cay…but it did not last long.  At dinner time, we had to slow down to keep the plates on the table as the 2ft seas had become 3ft.  And then, about 2000, those 3 ft. seas became 4ft, and near midnight, they became 5ft out in the middle of the bank.  We had to slow to 3kts, just to avoid heaps of blue water sweeping the decks…and we lost another running lights bulb, as the bow would submarine, and the cool water shattered the hot bulb (another $10 down the drain).   A 16 hour trip became a 19 hour slog that we would like to be smart enough to avoid….lesson learned again.  Don’t follow the herd!

But the bashing was worth it in  the end!  Bullocks Harbor/Great Harbor Cay is beautiful.  It is everything Bimini was not.  No stinky litter on the streets, no mega-yacht harbor, no casino, no super-rich playground contrasting with broken down poor local housing.  Just simple cruising folk, a smattering of US invested vacation housing, and most refreshing, a Bahamian population that takes pride in their surrounds, maintains their properties, doesn’t just toss empty beer bottles in the street (or at least picks them up on a regular basis)…we could stay here a month, if we had the time.

    And there is lots to stay for, Sugar Beach, great snorkeling in neat places like the pictured, drug smuggling, plane wreck, the biggest lobsters I have seen,  friendly people, an organized cruising community with lots of activities (like the green flash dingy-drift).  Deb even learned how to make baskets (guess which one was her second).    But Shush!   Cruisers say that the Berrys are too far off the beaten path, nothing to see/do…don’t tell anyone!  The Harbor entrance cut is a bit intimidating!     

We have gained a toe-hold on the Caribbean!  And, well we were very, very lucky with our first Gulf Stream crossing.  We left No Name Harbor at midnight, encountered nothing more than 5-10 kts of wind (but mostly on the nose) with 2-3 ft seas in the middle of the notorious stream, and arrived at North Bimini at 0900 to make the morning high tide.   As we had heard that the entrance channel had shoaled to 5ft, and we draw 5.5ft, we thought it was prudent.   And sure enough, in the middle of the well-marked channel, we found 7.5ft (our 5.5 + the 2ft tide).   We might have made it if we had waited until a more civilized time to leave Key Biscayne, and stuck to the red side as some had advised, but just by the skin of teeth, or rather the layer of bottom paint on the keel.   And so the Bahamas adventure begins.

It is true, the water is beautiful….also a bit scary.   When you can see 20-30 feet to the bottom, it looks like you are about to run aground at all times; it is hard to believe your depth sounder.  Another thing to believe is how laid-back the Bimini Customs and Immigration officers are (apparently unlike other ports –of-call in the Bahamas, we are told).   No extra fees for our bicycles, no mention of how much booze we might be importing, just a curious inquiry about wanting to have a fishing permit, but we only have one fishing pole?  “Sure you don’t have any spare poles?”  “Now how many poles was that?”  I guess most folks are much more serious about fishing here than we are.

Bimini Harbor is the antithesis of No Name Harbor.  No Name was full of “weekend-warriors” from Miami; as likely to park right on top of you and your anchor as to drag across into the mangroves, having set out 20ft of anchor rode to hold their 65ft motor yacht in 10ft of water in a 20 kt wind (don’t laugh, one of these nuts dragged right by us at midnight one night).  The 20-50ft long x 50 ft wide “raft-ups” of three or more boats will even move about the harbor tied together in search of good holding.  The “Cuban Navy” as one cruiser called it, shows up Friday night and blasts loud salsa music from speakers twice the size of their boat well into the wee hours and well past the 2200 curfew set up by the Florida Park Service (I guess all the FPS folks go home by then).  A week at No Name and we were ready to get out.  At Bimini, it is the shore-side bars, and impromptu liquor stands that blast the music all night long.   Bimini Harbor is fill of working boats, and cruisers who know how to anchor, or at least most all but one charter we had to help off of a sand bar.  But North Bimini is also an island of complete opposites.  At the south end, Alice Town, is dirty, litter is everywhere, the buildings are poorly maintained, smells of garbage…a typical 3^rd world country (or at least similar to Mexico and many other central/south American countries I have visited).  But at the north end, there is Resorts World Bimini Mega-yacht Marina and Casino.  Picture Disney Land for the superrich and, unfortunately this week, superrich college students on spring break.   Disco music at the poolside bar until 2 am, 165ft yachts from middle-eastern countries, meticulously maintained grounds/buildings with not one beer bottle to be found on the sidewalk (the second a student tosses one, it is picked up by the staff)…quite a contrast to Alice Town.

We could afford several days in a marina in Alice Town ($1/ft/night), but not at Resorts World!   But the big saving grace of the north end of north Bimini is that the resort has dredged out a deep (12-15ft) very protected anchorage…just small/unknown enough to allow 4-6 of us poor cruisers to anchor here for free!   And the icing on that piece of cake?  A modest tip to the dock master has allowed us access to all of the pools, bars (as if we could afford a $9 beer), picture perfect beaches, casinos (Deb has already lost ½ of her $20 gambling allowance)…and we are anchored for free!   Our fellow cruisers warned us about being “stuck” in Bimini because of weather….well we could “stick” here for a month, and still want more!