Meeks Patch and Egg Island – 11 nautical miles sailed, 4 miles in dinghy, 2 kilometres walked, 1 kilometre snorkelled
The sunshine was strong, water flat, and skies clear as we left the mooring ball in Spanish Wells for our final full day in the Family Islands with our friends. I had high hopes for the day, and a couple of surprises in store for Dave in Kira, but I never could have anticipated how perfectly it would unroll.
We motored out of the harbour entrance and into the shallows leading towards the nearby island of Meeks Patch, noticing the keel scar trenches in the sand from the boats recently through this same passage at low tide. I eased SeaLight into an anchorage near a beach on Meeks and after anchoring we dropped the dinghy and paddled into land. Welcome to Pig Beach, Eleuthera version! We were met by ducks, roosters, and chickens picking at the washed up sea grass, but soon an army of piglets appeared, chasing around the milk-laden sows, clawing for a drink. I counted ten pigs and reckoned a hundred piglets, racing around the grounds in every direction, looking for a teat, any teat. Some of the piglets were very small, maybe only a week old, while others were older. The beach is used for the many tourist boats that come here, charging each visitor $15 for the privilege of a visit, but we arrived before the caretaker so our trip was gratis. I was able to grab one of the smaller ones, and passed it to Kira for a little cuddle before it got annoyed and started squealing.
After pulling up the anchor we deployed both sails for the six mile jump to the site of a wreck near Egg Island. We had a gentle eight knot breeze which pushed us along quietly at five knots. This was the first time we’d been able to raise the sails with Dave and Kira and it was a lovely, peaceful, tranquil ride as we lounged in the cockpit, rolling with the waves, looking to the sea.
The Arimoroa was a 260-foot Lebanese freighter carrying fertilizer that became ablaze in 1970 and was run aground into Egg Island by the captain to save the crew. It was further demolished by Hurricane Andrew in 1992, split into pieces and now rests in 25 feet of depth with only the bow protruding above the water, which we spotted on our approach and anchored a few hundred feet away in clear waters.
The wreck was magnificent, colourful with coral, and more than a bit spooky. Despite being quite deep, the excellent water clarity makes it possible to see the details of the wreck: the lopsided and sheer deck, buried deep into the sand and rising up to the surface like a giant slide, the twisted metal pieces lying on the bottom, motor gears encrusted with coral, bits of machinery, huge stringers from the hull with decking long since disintegrated and eaten by the sea. I was able to dive down to look into the hidden crevasses of the pulverized ship. The area of wreckage is massive, with different parts of the ship spread wide, and full of common varieties of reef fish, but also fish we’d not yet seen, such as giant puffer fish, sun fish, and large striped grouper. The wreck is not far from where the ocean plummets to thousands of feet deep so Kira was worried about sharks, but after getting in the water and snorkelling around a bit she was perfectly fine and realized you could see any sharks coming a long ways off. I don’t remember ever being at a wreck site that was so big, interesting, and available to snorkellers instead of just divers - it was the best wreck I've ever seen after thirty years of diving. We spent a long time there exploring, with the full sun lighting up the underwater world like a stage.
The west side of Egg Island was just a short ways off so we sailed there, winding through coral reefs on one side and shallows on the other. As we were preparing to drop anchor I looked to the shore to see a small pod of dolphins cruising leisurely through the shallows. We got anchored and sat on the boat watching them, mesmerized, until the people in the catamaran already anchored nearby jumped in their dinghy, motored over, then plunged into the water, trying to swim with the wild dolphins like they had some sort of VIP pass at Sea World. The dolphins, of higher intelligence than those in the dinghy, wanted no part of that so they disappeared in an instant, headed south to the deep. Of course, the dummies in the dinghy sped after them, and soon after that left the anchorage, disappointed with the non-cooperating cetaceans. Despite all that, we felt particularly fortunate to have seen dolphins at all considering how few we’d seen in the Bahamas.
After a juicy burger lunch, we put on the snorkelling gear and dove off the boat to check out the reef beside us. Just before jumping in the water I said, “Anybody getting sick of seeing all this cool shit today?” I felt luck was on our side, so I had to flex it a bit.
What did we see on the reef? Acres of coral and rock with parrotfish and their colourful buddies munching and crunching. A lobster cage on a circular sandy patch in the middle of the reef with a medium sized lobster, two very confused looking puffer fish, and a small angelfish. A big turtle lying quietly on the bottom, watching for passing food. And what we’d been waiting for all week – a shark! Ana first spotted it and pointed it out. It was a small one and he passed by and around us, having a look at us as we looked at him. Kira loved it and was not at all scared. I first thought it was a reef shark, but it looked a bit different and had a yellow colouring, and I searched it up later to find it was a lemon shark, the first we’d seen.
There was another reef marked on the charts at the end of a nearby island so we motored there but it was mostly rock and grass and little of interest to see, so we instead dinghy’d to the gorgeous beach at the anchorage and went exploring, finding dozens of sun bleached conch shells scattered over the landscape, a carpet of soft needles and cones beneath the pine forest, and a path leading to a pair of large tidal ponds, full of mangroves, and currently draining out with the ebb tide.
We returned to the boat to load up on sunscreen and put on shirts for protection from the hot sun. I ended up remaining on the boat for a bit of solitude and writing time while the others returned to the island, explored a bit more, and gathered firewood for an evening fire. They also built a conch-rimmed firepit and constructed an artful pyre, ready to us to ignite when we returned in darkness after dinner. They seemed particularly proud of the burning man worthy structure and were excited for me to see it.
Dinner preparation was again a full group effort and after Margherita cocktails we prepared fried conch fritters, dipping sauce, boiled rice, and cilantro cabbage salad. Just as we were finishing mixing the conch batter I looked out the porthole to see a massive blaze on the beach.
“Uh oh. Look over there,” I said.
“What the fuh? They stole our fire!” said Ana.
One of the two catamarans that had arrived to the anchorage had indeed taken their crew into shore and ignited our masterpiece and were fully enjoying it. Kira, Ana, and Dave were livid so I retrieved the flare gun from the cockpit locker and started launching fireball volleys into the sails of the first catamaran, setting it ablaze. Because we weren’t sure which of the boats belonged to the villains, I launched another volley of rockets into the second boat just to be sure. That one lit up too and we had an even better fire than we were hoping for as they both burned and crackled down to the waterline as the innocents in the second catamaran leaped into the water for safety.
Dave and I took the dinghy into shore and Dave, being the far more diplomatic of our power duo, said, “Hi everybody. I see you found our firewood.”
“Oh my god, we’re so sorry,” said the wife, deeply apologetic, with angry eyes trained on her husband silently indicating: I told you not to burn the wood!
“Well, you know,” started the husband as he walked towards us in the water. “We thought it was a leave it as you found it sort of deal. So uh, we’ll do that.”
“If you could replace what you burned we’d really appreciate it,” said Dave.
One of their two young kids burst, “Hey, do you guys want to join our campfire? You can come!”
With that we returned to the boat to enjoy dinner, entertained as we watched their headlamps flashing up and down the beach as they scrambled for firewood, which we knew was not there as Dave and the girls had to go deep into the bush to find any.
In the end it turned out perfectly. They left and we arrived to a nice bed of coals and a sufficient stack of wood and we drank and talked politics and played ukulele and admired the beautiful moonless night sky.
It was a fitting end to an extraordinary day.
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