We pulled up anchor to move on from a roly poly two nights at Chub Cay. The seas were choppy, the winds were blasting and it wasn’t a very pleasant ride to our next anchorage between Bird Cay and Whale Cay. We were feeling a bit beat up. There is only room for one keeled boat at this anchorage and we were lucky to get it. However, it turned out to be a very roly poly anchorage. I was above my limit on rolling. My green light was coming on and green does not mean go. We deployed the dinghy and went gunkholing to get off the boat. A cay (pronounced key) is a very small island. Besides the 700 islands in the Bahamas there are 2400 cays. We pulled up to an expansive sandy beach, a deserted cay and spent the afternoon exploring. There were stingrays in the shallows, lizards darting, crabs dancing and shells to knock your knickers off. And if your knickers were knocked off no one would know! This cay was amazing. This cay is exactly what we have been planning and hoping for.
As soon as we returned to our roly poly boat I started to feel green again. The boat was rocking and rolling so much that the dishes and provisions in the cupboards were banging around noisily. You couldn’t leave a glass of water on the table. I wouldn’t have dared set a wine glass down, not that I usually do. It was going to be a long night. Captain Therehasgottobeaway had an idea. I unsnubbed Bitch Pussy and let out another twenty feet. John maneuvered Echoes so that she would take the brunt of the waves on the bow instead of the beam. He dropped a second anchor off the stern to position her. Then, I pulled back the twenty feet of chain and resnubbed her. Echoes sat bow to the waves (instead of beam to) and made life much, much more comfortable. Captain Myhero came through again.
That night we sat watching the infinite stars and our depth meter go down, down, down with low tide. It started to come back up after a reading of 0.4 below keel. We waited for a bump that happily never came.
We stayed another day and night to let more of the wind blow through and because it was most excellent to be in such pristine beauty completely alone, or so we thought. We took the dinghy out for a fishing trip. We spotted a stark naked, Robinson Crusoe type of long haired man wading through the shallows. We drifted for a moment to see if he needed help but he paid no mind and we went on our way. I would imagine living primitively off of an island is not a bad option for those who don’t mind mosquito bites on their hoohas. We fished the other side of the anchorage and John caught a Blue Runner. He asked a charter captain once if Blue Runner’s were good eating. The captain said, I’ve never been hungry enough to find out. We threw him back.