Pigs and fronts

I’ve been a bit caught up with weather fronts rolling through stopping our push south. ‘Grumpy cow’ nudges into the daylight which in truth is bloody ridiculous as we are in the frigging Bahamas. My aspiration is not to turn into Elton John who once called hotel reception to complain about the wind and requested that the management turn it down a bit.

We had a lovely relaxing week with Jenness and Patti. Pigs living on a beach challenges my view of normality. But they seemed to be in good shape and most people who visited while we were there turned up with vegetable scraps which were devoured with intent. The well known Olympic swimming race, the 100m doggy paddle can now be renamed the 100m piggy paddle. These babies were the water equivalent to the colloquial saying ‘pigs in sh*t’.

Our guests flew out from Black Point Settlement rather than Staniel Cay, changing their flights after we met Ester, who along with Lorraine and Ida seem to run the whole village shebang. Ester’s roles included Flamingo Air representative, Bahamas Telecom helper, shop assistant, pizza influencer, T-shirt recommender, accommodation booker. speed boat finder etc etc. She was a handy person to know as the flight change was necessitated by another front rolling in and us not really wanting to move anchorages.

We’re now off Lee Stocking Island, as another front passes over. Yes, it’s Elton John windy again today. Today being Saturday. The next front will arrive Wednesday. Getting here, the water was in boating terms, very skinny. When we first stared sailing in the UK, we wouldn’t anchor in less than 4 metres. We were worried about hitting the bottom. Grace draws 2 meters. On our trip down here we were flying long at 6.7 knots with just 0.8 metres under the keel at one point. A little clenchy.

We will head to what has been described to us as ‘the adult holiday club’ early next week. Georgetown in the Exumas is apparently a big hub for social activities. Shouts go out on the radio in the morning for partakers of yoga and volleyball and beach bbq’s and goodness knows what else. I will report back having assessed what’s on offer. But more importantly we can buy some vegetables which (other than 2 avocados) I last bought in Florida three weeks ago.



Phew! Made it. We dropped anchor on 3rd January, this fresh decade, just to the east of Thunderball Grotto, Staniel Cay in the Exumas. Our friends flight didn’t arrive until 4.30pm so we had a good five hours to spare to be frivolous and prepare for their arrival. Plenty.

I don’t doubt they were looking at Grace’s previous locations on the US coast and thinking, they’re never going to make it. They undoubtedly mused what are our options for accommodation if these tardy mariners don’t turn up?

The quietly manic push to get to Staniel Cay played out favourably and we came out ahead. Just. Days rolled with early starts and nights at sea. We had a fast boisterous crossing of the Gulf Stream. We squeezed in overnight stops at Manjack in the Abacos and Half Moon Bay on Little San Salvador. The Manjack stop coincided with New Years Eve and a gathering of friends at a bonfire on the beach.

The Half Moon Bay stop was restful and quiet. We did set the alarm for 4am the next day to get us to Sean Connery’s previous haunt in mid morning. All tickety boo.

Patti and Jenness arrived full of vim and vigour. They’d left a chilly New Hampshire and their beloved dogs for a week away in warmer climes. It’s great to have them on board, to share our home in a blue blue place.

Yesterday we snorkelled, meandered the metropolis that is Staniel Cay, watched the nurse sharks being fed dinner as a bunch of fishermen cleaned their catch and learnt a new card game, 3-13.

The plan over the next week is to explore a little of the Exumas. It’s pretty windy just now as a cold front goes over us. Dave was up at 5am checking on stuff and making sure the anchor was solid. I supported him admirably from a horizontal position in bed.