At the end of the previous blog post, we had survived our rather “sporty” exit from the Turks and Caicos, officially cleared into the Bahamas at Great Inagua, and were beginning our hop north through the islands toward Georgetown.
Our daughter Andrea and her husband, Chris, joined us in Georgetown on the 21st. They had a short window, and winds were good to head North, so we set off the next day. We stopped in several places along the way, including the Exuma Cays Land & Sea Park. Pristine Beaches, stunning turquoise water – you can’t beat the Bahamas
Our next stop was Staniel Cay. Just look at that water! Of all the places we’ve sailed, the Bahamas are always magical, especially the Exumas.
After a wonderful visit (but all too short), we dropped them off in the busy port of Nassau.
Once Andrea and Chris left, we continued working north to Spanish Wells, Marsh Harbor and the Abacos. We have kept in touch with our friends on Juno—formerly SeaFever, the boat we circumnavigated on from 2005–2007—and as luck would have it, they were making their way through the same area.
Yet again, we were reminded just how small the sailing community really is! We met up with them in Spanish Wells, where Juno anchored just behind us and we had them over for happy hour.
We set out the next day headed for Hopetown (near Marsh Harbor) and Juno followed a day later. We anchored in Elbow Cay and had dinner on Juno a few nights later.
I gotta say, it was a little surreal stepping back aboard SeaFever (now Juno). So many memories came flooding back from the 2 1/2 years we spent sailing her around the world. She was our home for a long time! But she looks beautiful, and we’re so pleased to see how much love and effort her current owners have put into keeping Juno “ship shape.” We had a wonderful evening catching up over dinner, and we treasure the relationship we’ve developed with them.
There’s something pretty unique about sharing a friendship with the people who now love and care for a boat that was such a huge part of our lives.
The candy-striped lighthouse overlooking the harbor, and colorful cottages are typical Bahamas. We climbed the lighthouse, walked through the small town and its shops. What a lovely, relaxing place.
Our next destination was Marsh Harbour, where our friends Rachael and Jeff joined us.
We picked them up, made the obligatory grocery run to stock up for the week, and then headed back over to Elbow Cay and the picturesque little settlement of Hope Town.
From Hope Town, we continued heading northwest. Ultimately, we needed to get Moxie to Hilton Head, SC, where we planned to leave her for a few weeks while we headed home. One of our last stops in the Bahamas was Great Guana Cay. We spent some time exploring the island with Rachael and Jeff and, as the sign says, “Time flies when you’re having rum.” Seems like a good motto for the Bahamas!
We left Great Guana Cay headed to Great Sale Cay around the same time as Juno. At one point we were about 1 ½ miles away and I asked Anthony how it felt to be ‘racing his new boat against his old boat”? His reply: “I win either way”! We met up with them again at a beach bar called Nippers (I’m guessing this was so name because the mosquitoes!!)
As always, we were watching the weather closely, looking for the best window for our passage to Hilton Head. At this time of year, it’s not just the wind and seas we’re concerned about—thunderstorms and, especially, lightning become part of the equation too. The forecast for March 13th–16th looked pretty good, so we decided to go for it, with Juno heading out right behind us. All was good for a while…until it wasn’t.
As the passage progressed, the forecast began to change, and we began to see thunderstorms—and lots of potential lightning. Aaak! One of the bits of info we look at is the CAPE Index (Convective Available Potential Energy), which basically measures instability in the atmosphere. The higher the CAPE, the greater the potential for convection and thunderstorms—not exactly what you want to see when you have very tall metal stick pointing toward the sky!
Juno decided to duck into St. Augustine and texted us about the severe weather they were seeing. We kept going but were watching everything VERY closely as the system moved north toward us. By the afternoon of March 15th, the radar showed a big, ugly line of thunderstorms stretching across our path, complete with lots of red and yellow…and one particularly nasty cell pretty much right in front of us.
Here’s what those storm cells looked like on Moxie’s radar. Below is a short video of the sky. Yikes!!
The blobs on the screen were one thing but look at the wind! We saw gusts around 40 knots. By this point we had already been sailing for 30-some hours, and night was falling.
There really wasn’t anywhere for us to “duck into” at this point, so all we could do was keep a close eye on the radar and try to thread our way between the storm cells. We didn’t want to run with the wind, because that would have kept us in the storms longer and taken us way off course.
Instead, we furled the jib and started both engines so we could “hover” in place without putting too much pressure on the double-reefed mainsail and the rig. We gybed then tacked back and forth for the next 90 minutes (see our track on the right) while the lightning flashed and thunder roared all around us.
At one point it was all just too much for me. The wind was howling, the rain was pounding, and everything was SO loud that I finally just put my face in a pillow and covered my ears! Fortunately, the line of storms eventually moved through, and we were finally able to make our way toward Hilton Head around 11pm.
After anchoring in Broad Creek to wait for better light, we motored into Palmetto Bay Marina around 9:00 a.m. on March 16th—just ahead of the NEXT weather system! But this time we were safely tied up in the marina and could watch it from the comfort of Moxie instead of trying to dodge our way through it. In a few days, we’d be heading back home to Colorado for a little break. Woohoo! A few weeks at home is just what I needed!