#9 Riding the Devil’s Backbone

Imagine you have started a relationship with someone really special, in fact you’re beginning to think this is “the one”.  Neither of you have been overseas for years and you’ve never holidayed together. Whilst you have been sailing a few times, your special someone has never been on any boat smaller than a cross channel ferry. Would you choose to have your make or break debut holiday together on a small boat with dubious plumbing ,with a family from the other side of the world who your partner has never met, off an Island whose name sounds like a part of the body’s waste management system?  Well fair play to my old university mate Dave. Like me, he is either brave or stupid and he’d booked the tickets packed a suitcase full of stuff for us we had sent him (plus smaller ones for themselves) and with his partner Jen were on their way to Eleuthera.

We took a similar amount of time motoring 50 miles across an oily flat sea as they did flying the entire width of the Atlantic and by mid afternoon we were within the shallow bank off Eleuthera (the water rising from over 1km deep to 5m in just a few minutes) looking for our first anchorage at Meeks Patch. The only notable events on the trip were catching a large barracuda (which we had to throw back due to potential ciguatera poisoning) and seeing an enormous shark finning on the surface. It had to be at least half the length of our boat making it 7m and big enough to eat any of us in one mouthful.  We tried to get closer but with a lazy swish of its tail it disappeared.  10 minutes later we were anchored in crystal clear water, hot and sweaty from the passage and eyeing each other up to see who would jump in first. “No Hugo I insist, after you”.

We decided to paddle board / dinghy ashore and as we approached we could see some fat four legged creatures stomping up and down the beach and wading out into the water to great us.  These were the famous swimming pigs of Meeks Patch and we had great fun feeding them some old carrots from the bottom of the fridge whilst trying to avoid being inadvertently eaten as well.  These chubby creatures were ungainly on land but surprisingly graceful in the water and were masters of the “piggy paddle” as Jasmine called it.

The next morning we tied up in a small marina in Spanish Wells a bustling town/island which is the centre of the Bahamian lobster industry.  We happened to be passing a lobster boat that had just returned after 3 weeks fishing the banks and the process is pretty interesting.  They don’t put down lobster traps with bait but rather build a series of large shelters on the sea bed that the lobsters love to breed and hang out in being free to enter and leave as they please.  To harvest, the big boat sends out 3 or 4 open boats with divers in them.  These open boats motor from shelter to shelter sending a diver down to lift off the roof and take the lobsters that are over a certain size leaving the rest to grow and harvest another time. Then its back to the big boat for freezing. We saw literally tons of lobster tales being unloaded all headed for US supermarkets.  It struck me as being a very sustainable way to fish as by creating habitat the fisherman are increasing lobster numbers and by only taking some each time, these numbers are maintained.  In fact the fisherman we spoke to said in recent years, they have seen an increase in the number of lobsters on the banks.

The next day we tackled the famous “Devil’s Backbone” an intricate route through the reefs and surf along the north end of Eleuthera and the best route to Harbour Island where we were to meet Dave and Jen.  We decided to hire the services of a pilot for two reasons, the first being we didn’t want the anxiety of trying to tackle this one for the first time on our own and the second being it was good way to put some money back into the local economy.  Our pilot, Bill, was a white Bahamian who had spent his life fishing lobsters and was now subsidising his pension piloting boats like ours.  The longest boat he had piloted was 190 feet long (ours was 46 feet long) so I felt very happy relinquishing command for the first time. The route was crazy, diving between massive coral heads with waves braking over them barely wide enough for the boat, extreme 90 degree turns and a section where the boat was almost on the beach with the ocean waves breaking a few metres from our beach side hull. All this time Bill, a complete stranger to us just minutes ago, was cracking jokes whilst holding the future of our year adventure and home in one casual hand and it was all I could do to stop myself grabbing the wheel off him, turning the boat around and driving us out of this madness (and probably onto a reef)!

Fortunately, we made it safely through with both keels still attached to the hull and undies still (relatively) unsoiled and sent the pilot on his way with a healthy tip before anchoring in the beautiful calm waters off Man Island. After exploring the beach and snorkelling the local coral our main task here was to write a message on the beach to photograph by drone and send off to the kid’s school principal whose last day at the school was that week.  It was our small way of honouring an incredible school leader who created a wonderful caring and learning culture and has been a huge support to us in taking this adventure on with children.

12 December found Kilauea anchored off Dunmore Town, Harbour Island and myself scooting off in the dinghy to pick up Dave and Jen from the dock on the mainland pretty much at the end of the runway.  All the other tourists arrived and shot off in powerful large speedboats to various luxury accommodation whereas poor old Dave and Jen had to make do with being splashed as our heavily laden dinghy full of people and suitcases laboured upwind against the chop.  Hmm, sorry Dave, I didn’t really plan that first impression very well did I?

After a quick safety briefing which I’m not sure helped and probably needs some refining probably with some humour and positivity (“if someone falls overboard chuck this in, if the boat catches fire, here’s how you fight it, if the boat starts sinking these are our lovely life rafts, if the toilet blocks…”) we upped anchor and took our guests back to Man Island which we had completely to ourselves.  Crystal clear water, a stunning beach and beautiful snorkeling, I think we may have just saved it!

Unfortunately for our whole time in the Harbour Island area we had strong winds so we weren’t able to sail too far.  We did have a great little upwind sail on the first day and a spinnaker run on the second which was fun and we went to two anchorages for the first two days before treating ourselves to a fancy marina on the last night at which we were the only modestly sized sailing boat sitting amongst super yachts.  Jen and Dave were great guests, helping out with the boat jobs and providing great banter throughout.  They both seemed to love being on the boat and even looked a little sad to be heading off to their seaside resort at the end of their time with us.  For us it was brilliant sharing our adventures, catching up with all the UK news and getting to know Jen who got the full seal of approval from all the crew of Kilauea. For me, reconnecting with my best mate after so long apart on our very own yacht was a treat and privilege I will never forget.

Harbour Island was the first place Charlotte mentioned when I asked her where she wanted to go in the Bahamas over a year ago. Part of the reason for this was that she is a fan and follower of India Hicks one of several celebrities that either live or holiday on the island.  The closest we came to rubbing shoulders with fame was when Charlotte picked out a pretty dress for her Christmas present from a fancy boutique and later that day Paris Hilton posted a picture of herself at the same place!  I wonder if Charlotte nabbed the dress Paris was after?

We drove to the ocean beach famous for both its pink sand and being the place where Daniel Craig’s James Bond walked out of the sea in Casino Royale which, for some reason, Charlotte keeps on raving about. She begged me to recreate this scene but unfortunately for her and Jen I had to decline on the basis I had forgotten to wear my tight micro swimming shorts. We had the whole beach to ourselves to body surf and frolic in the waves (us) and go for a romantic walk with kids chasing after them (Dave and Jen)

The only slight blip was when we lost a dinghy oar which we initially put down to theft but in hindsight I’m pretty sure we lost it while towing the dinghy.  Another lesson learned, always stow the oars properly. Whilst this may seem like a minor loss it could well be a serious safety issue if the outboard engine fails and you need to row to safety.  We would not be able to purchase one until we got to Georgetown almost a month away.  Fortunately, the wonderful cruising community came to our aid.  The good ship SV Womble was in Nassau and picked one up for us there which had the extra benefit of meaning we had a good excuse to rendezvous with them in the Exumas, the next island chain.

On 16 December we waved goodbye to Dave and Jen and set off once more along the devil’s backbone without a pilot this time.  Fortunately the chart-plotter leaves a trail showing exactly where you have previously been so it was a simple matter of retracing our steps to find our way back through the maze of reefs.  We spent one more night at Meeks Patch and set off at dawn the next day to cross the Yellow Bank on our way to the Exuma islands.

For the next instalment we navigate through the infamous bommies of the Yellow Bank, reunite with Womble, master foiling, dive another crashed drug running plane, experience the natural “washing machine” and mangrove creeks of Shroud Cay, befriend a colony of Iguanas on Allens Cay and explore the stunning Exuma Land and Sea Park.  Plus plenty of disasters averted and new lessons learned along the way…