Plans Are Always Changing

It was about 7:30 a.m. when we slipped off from our anchorage and headed down Elizabeth Harbour, through Moriah Harbour and out into Exuma Sound. The wind was from the southeast, which was good enough for the first leg of our voyage, past the northern tip of Long Island. From there, we hoped to head southeast to Rum Cay. The wind was supposed to clock around to the north by the time we reached there.

Naturally, it didn’t.

I played my new video game, Furuno Plotter and Radar, and got us headed to Long Island just fine. We pootled along happily in about 15 to 20 knots of wind and a bit of a swell. As we approached Long Island, things changed. A squall went by just to the north of us. We could see the rain pouring from it. Another was headed our way. And WW said that currents, winds and general stuff often happens off points of land as you round them. All of this combined to make it a bit of a bumpy ride. The second squall passed right overhead, but only spat a bit. However, it brought a significant boost to the winds which rose to gusts of 25 knots and which remained steadfastly from the southeast--the very direction in which Rum Cay lies. We gave it a shot, but 20 miles of hammering into a growing swell and strong winds wasn’t going to happen. Fortunately, a more reasonable course took us to West Bay at Conception Island, about 10 miles away. We had to motor. The wind carried on at 18 to 22 knots for most of the trip, and WW reckoned the swell at as much as 8 feet. It did cause some fairly dramatic pitching, but Django ploughed ahead boatfully.

I took a watch while WW rested…he’d done the lion’s share of the work. I saw what I am pretty sure was an Audubon’s shearwater ducking and diving inches from the waves. Then came the white-tailed tropicbirds. Their tails are longer than they are. They fly like birds with tails that are too long; not really what one would consider graceful. But they are lovely.

As we approached Conception, the wind dropped. We had to wend our way between a couple of coral heads. I was standing on the starboard bow, watching for unmarked heads, when a dolphin swam to the surface in front of me as if in welcome. It is odd how thrilling something like that can be.

It was bliss dropping anchor. From George Town with its 250+ boats at several anchorages, we were off the pristine white sand beach of an uninhabited cay, sharing the space with four other boats.

We had a swim and watched all sorts of fishies that make homes of even the smallest coral heads. Then thorough rinsing and we settled in for RPs, dinner and an early bed. Bashing away like that all day is very tiring, plus the sun and wind. Still, it had gone well and we were in one of the most beautiful places we had yet visited.