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For the past couple of weeks we’ve worked our way slowly up Eleuthera, aka Urethra (as my Ms. Malaprop [aka Carol] calls it). There’s lots to like about this 110 mile long island, especially if you’re trying to get away from it all.
It’s different from the Exumas across the sound. Eleuthera is greener, it’s a little hillier, it’s a single big island and we didn’t meet any killer piggies. More than the obvious, it has a little more of a laid back vibe to it. Perhaps that’s because we’re a little more laid back than we were a couple of months ago. We’ve been doing our best to keep to a no schedule schedule and its been working in our favor. Our first week on the boat involved a great deal of sleeping in, the result of a month of running around selling the house and really committing to a life that is still completely new for us. Now fully invested, the extravagance of switching off all the utilities and unwinding was ours to enjoy.
North of Tarpum Bay is Palmetto Point, an artist’s community and a lovely spot to anchor in anything but a 20 knot southerly breeze. We know this because we anchored there briefly, but decided that as pretty as it was, the swell was only going to get worse and make for an uncomfortable dinghy ride and rocking night. Our next stop was just north of Governor’s Harbour in the lee of Levy Island.
Winds, which had been out of the southeast all day, shifted to the east as soon as we anchored, exposing us to more swell than we’d have liked. In the end, though, it was a great anchorage for the conditions and set us up for a full day of adventuring around the area.
In the morning we took Nell over to the shore, to a spot where a good sized dock used to be. Weather had taken its toll and the jetty was all but destroyed. Drawing Nell well up onto the beach gave us a chance to scout the area a bit more closely. Thanks to the miracle of satellite imaging, we knew there was some sort of dirt road from the beach to the Queen’s Highway, Eleuthera’s main drag. The trick was finding it.
Directly opposite us was a pond with a splendid Blue Heron that took to flight as soon as we cracked a twig. Near the dock was an old refrigerator, some plastic bottles and, yes, a couple of tire tracks in the sand. From there the path was easily followed and we found the main road a few minutes later.
We headed across the island to the Atlantic beaches and from there followed sandy driveways and finally paved roads back into Governor’s Harbour. Governor’s is a tight little place. It’s also the capital of the island and as such has superior pink official buildings. The local grocery supplied the few essentials we needed for Aleta, coffee included, while the local pirate restaurant was glad to see anyone in the slow season.
Leon Levy was a Wall Street financier, his wife a philanthropist. When the old man shuffled off his mortal coil, Shelby White (Leon’s Mrs.) set about creating a monument to her husband that was reflective of what I’m guessing was/is her love for the Bahamas. She picked a packet of land on which to showcase the flora (and a bit of fauna) of the islands and called it the “Leon Levy Native Plant Preserve”. Winding trails lead you through a series of plantings that eventually tell a pretty good history of the Bahamas. It turned out to be worth the two mile walk and $20 entry fee. Our only criticism is we’d have liked a little more information about the plants. Signs identified each one, but the mysteries of Millspaugh’s Dildo (Pilocereus polygonus) remains for us unsolved. Time was getting on and we’d walked a good nine miles when a car pulled up and its driver offered us a lift, which we gladly accepted.
The following day we headed north in 20-30 knots of wind to Mutton Fish Point, a splendid little cove at the top end of the island. Anchoring was easy and there was enough protection from the surge that we enjoyed a quiet night’s rest. The following morning we took Little Nell, our inflatable kayak, over to some rich bugger’s beach for a look around. Put off by the No Trespassing signs we moved along the shore to another patch of sand and decided we’d risk it and tied Little Nell up. Our objective, some two miles off, was the Glass Window, a narrow bridge between the wild Atlantic and relative calm of Eleuthera’s bank. A century ago the bridge was a natural wonder, enough so that Winslow Homer painted it. Today it’s a weight limited bridge that will inevitably need replacing as time and tide do their work.
Our penultimate Eleutheran stop was Current Cut, a fiendishly narrow passage between Eleuthera’s bank and the Northeast Providence Channel. Water rages through the 358’ wide gap all day long, with the scant exception of slack tides, variously estimated at an hour to two hours after high or low water in Nassau. For any reasonably keeled boat, transit is best attempted at high tide. Thus with 25 knots of breeze dead on our stern, a reef in our main, and our engine on and at the ready, we approached the gash. A bar of sand greeted us and our depth dropped to 7’ – that got my heart rate up – it was, however, the lowest spot and the bottom quickly fell away to 30’ and more. A controlled gybe (mainsheet taught with preventers snugged), and then another, were duly ignored as we steered for the optimum track as displayed on the chart plotter. In situations like this, keeping a sail up is more than adding additional spice to the running, it’s there to lend some steerage way in case the engine decides to conk out.
The turn of the tide meant the current flowed from the bank into the channel and helpfully pushed us along. With the extra half knot shove we made it through safely enough and anchored in the lee of the Current Cut settlement. Later we wandered around the little village with its cottages draped with bougainvillea. We’d read that it was one of the oldest in the Bahamas, founded in 1648. Barely 130 people live there today. There’s a library, a post office and a tiny little store with all the things that you’d run out of, like cereal. If it weren’t for the regular ferry service I’m not sure there’d be anyone living there at all.
Our last stop on Eleuthera was Royal Island, our final waypoint before hopping up to the Abacos. There’s not a lot to say about Royal Island. There’s a nice house, a resort under development, and a bunch of Keep Out signs. We used our time there to prep a ditch bag, check the lines, and play cribbage.
We liked Eleuthera with its easy going sense of remoteness. We thoroughly enjoyed our long walks, brisk sailing and having the place to ourselves. The Abacos are that much closer to Florida and that much busier, or so we’re told. More importantly we’re meeting Tom (aka, The Commodore), who is going to join us for the next couple of weeks. Stay tuned!
