November 28, 2012
The clear blues and greens of the water. It was exactly as Wil and I remembered it. In all of our previous cruising, the water of the Bahamas was some of the most beautiful we’ve ever seen. The kids, especially Colin, were bouncing with excitement, ready to go swimming.
After a painless clearance into the country by Bahamian Customs and Immigration, we pulled away from Marsh Harbor and headed for Hope Town, where we were expecting to anchor for a few days.
Hope Town is a place where a lot of cruisers go, the surfing is supposedly good on the other side of the island, and it’s a quaint little town to visit. However, without a guide book in hand, and no “word of mouth” from anyone recently, we weren’t sure about going into the tiny harbor which, according to the charts, seemed to be only for moorings. Therefore, we anchored outside the harbor entrance.
getting ready for a swim
We jumped in for a quick snorkel. The kids were amazed at just how clear the water was. There were many huge, thick starfish along the sandy bottom. (Exactly like the ones on many computer screen displays!) We took turns passing one around. It felt so rigid and bumpy, and reached about 12 inches in diameter.
admiring the beauty that surrounds us
lighthouse at Hope Town, Abacos
As we swam, the wind starting picking up strength. It would not be a comfortable place to stay for the night, so we needed to find a better place to anchor. We quickly exited the water, dried off, hauled up the anchor, and headed further south down the Abacos island chain.
After looking at the charts, we had two anchor spots in mind. We arrived at the closest anchorage to find it was crowded with a bunch of other catamarans. We decided to continue on towards a larger and more protected anchorage at the end of the island chain. However, it would be close to sunset by the time we got there. With the Genaker out and the wind on our stern, we flew through the water, in hopes of anchoring with enough light to to see.
We were just over a mile away from the anchorage as the setting sun seemed to fall faster below the horizon. We were out of time. There was no way we could make it before dark, and it would be hazardous to try. We checked the charts again and found one lone spot at Lynyard Cay that seemed to be calling our name. All remaining daylight disappeared as the anchor found the bottom.
All was dark and peaceful. It would be fun to see what sorts of surprises we would discover when the sun came up.
