Exploring Eleuthera: Blue Hole Diving for Treasure, Caving, Pink Sand, Canyon Snorkelling, and a Surprise Visit

Eleuthera – 2 miles in dinghy, 5 kilometres walked, 150 kilometres driven

Renting a car in Bahamas is fun. You ask a local where to rent a car and they will give you a WhatsApp number. You call that number, they will ask you when and where you want the car, tell you the price, and arrange the pickup. You show up at the agreed-up time, read a paragraph, sign a paper, show them your driver’s license, give them cash, and they give you a car. Then you drop it off when you are finished with it. That’s it. All trust and no fuss.

We rode the dinghy across the bay to the North Eleuthera Genes Bay Ferry Dock, a bustling place with ferry boats running people and gear back and forth from Spanish Wells. A man named John arrived with our car right on time and soon we were in our Mazda 5 dashing through the landscapes of North Eleuthera. The first stop was only a few kilometres away – a nameless, inland blue hole. A group of two tourists and a guide were just finishing up as we arrived, giving us the entire place to ourselves. It was a magnificent swimming hole, round with vertical limestone walls and only accessible by a flying leap and significant drop from one of two wooden platforms.

We were all excited to get naked after the nudie forest scenes from last night’s film screening, so after a quick change Kira was the first to leap. But disaster struck! She dropped her swimming mask upon impact and it sank down into the darkness, assumed to be hundreds of feet deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” I said optimistically as I leaped in with my own mask. The water was extremely salty, perfectly clear, and refreshingly cool. I strapped on my mask and looked down, happy to see that it was deep, but probably diveable at around 35 feet. I swam down a few times, trying to spot it, but could not get down far enough, so Dave tossed down my fins, then jumped in himself as Ana performed camerawoman duties from above. I swam down again, further this time, and spotted her mask, but also something else…a watch. After some deep breathing psyche-ups and a few attempts, I was able to grab her mask, then after another plunge or two, I snagged the watch. I handed it to Kira at the surface, and to our surprise it lit up with the time after she touched the face of it. It was an Apple watch, and after we had completed our swim and scaled the rock wall with the help of the installed rope and ladder, we gave it to Ana for inspection. It looked to be the newest model and must have been dropped very recently as the battery was still strong. I was pleased to have maintained my reputation as the village diver.

The next stop was just up the road, Preacher’s Cave – the location where the original settlers fleeing Bermuda from religious persecution in 1647 took up residence after their supernatural deity abandoned them and they crashed their boat into the Devil’s Backbone. The cave was spacious with excellent lighting from the natural skylights, bat-free, and had an ample supply of honey from the active combs suspended from the ceiling. I can see why they chose this place for refuge. And Dave just couldn’t stop singing, “The only hole that could ever house me, was the cave of the preacher man…” Before leaving we walked to the lovely beach on the Atlantic side and were tempted to do some snorkelling but realized we had far to go and time was short.

Eleuthera is a long and skinny island so we drove the only direction we could go – south. There was much to see – interesting foliage, homes, stores, the small villages of Lower Bogue and Upper Bogue, then the most popular viewpoint on the island - the Glass Window Bridge. This is where the island narrows to nothing but a single lane bridge where you can see the glassy and shallow teal Caribbean waters to the right and the dark blue churn and swell of the powerful Atlantic to the left. On the Caribbean side flew a large manta ray, gliding through the waters, putting on a show for the spectators.

Just beyond the Glass Window was the Queen’s Baths, a spectacular set of natural tidal pools and moon landscapes carved out by millions of year of tidal cycles, storms, and wind. There were a number of people there already, and the pools looked to be decorated with sharp rocks so we decided to skip the swim and instead just walk the area. This would be the perfect location for a crazy full moon party.

Gregory Town was our next stop and we found a sheltered bandstand with a picnic table, right next to a cute elementary school and the lovely Pitman Cove bay. We enjoyed a fine lunch of tuna wraps, fruit, and veggies as we listened to the sounds of the kids in school and watched as every single kid danced, not walked, out of the front door, proving again that Bahamians are just born with the groove.

Next up was snorkelling so we tried turning down two different roads to the Atlantic side. The first led us to a garbage dump where Dave nearly scavenged a new set of fins, but upon closer inspection he decided the right place for them was indeed the scrap heap. The next one had a promising path through a small forest, which we followed, then popped out on a decent enough beach, but it was littered with ocean plastic and layered with sharp rock at the waterline. Instead of investing more time in trying to discover our own private perfect beach we motored down to Governor’s Harbour to the French Reach, the most popular beach on the island, and for good reason – it was beautiful. Pink sand, few people, and an incredible underwater valley that we snorkelled for over an hour, seeing grouper, risky swim-throughs in the rock, schools of brilliant blue fish, and Ana even spotted a lobster which we tickled out with a snorkel then played with for a while. Kira and Dave were mesmerized with the beauty of the place, both above and below the water, and I was thrilled that we’d found such a perfect spot.

We drove into the town of Governor’s Harbour, and along the way we wondered if our friends Kate and Ben might be there as they had most recently been in Rock Sound to the south, but thinking of moving north. Ana checked the Noforeignland app and unfortunately they were still in Rock Sound. We did a driving tour around town (finding not a whole lot) then stopped at the harbour to admire the great anchorage.

“Isn’t that Ben and Kate’s boat?” Ana asked as she pointed to a sailboat easing into the harbour.

“Sure is,” I said then started hollering WADDINGTON repeatedly through my cupped, megaphone hands as the others waved their hats, wiggled, danced, shouted, yipped, and flagged. Not knowing a lot of people in Governor’s Harbour, they looked puzzled. It wasn’t until they sailed closer and Ben put the binoculars on us that they realized we weren’t just the local looney tunes. We made contact and arranged to meet them at a watering hole in town as soon as they got anchored.

After gassing up the rental car and picking up a tin of sesame seeds from the shop as a crucial ingredient for tonight’s dinner, we went to the only restaurant we could find and ordered drinks while we waited for Team Waddington. Dave is an incredible eating machine who has been diagnosed with a colony of exotic tapeworms living in his legs. They’ve learned to co-exist together in symbiotic harmony; he provides them with constant nutrition and they contribute groovy art and music ideas, whispered into his inner ear at night. To keep the worms happy he ordered a massive hamburger which, I can confirm, was delicious, as he gave me a little bite to the great displeasure of the parasites which was evident when Dave’s leg started going all spastic.

Kate and Ben arrived and we introduced them to Dave and Kira. There is nothing better in the world than being surrounded by friends and being able to introduce friends from one world to friends from another. We caught up on news, shared some laughs, and made some rough plans to meet up with them next in the Abacos. We could have stayed chatting with them all night but had to get moving to take advantage of the remaining light for the drive back to the ferry dock. It’s easy saying goodbye to Kate and Ben as it’s only a matter of time before we run into them again somewhere.

We did the turnaround north and were about halfway back when darkness fully dropped and we discovered the Japanese made Mazda had a major design flaw – the upper half of the windshield was darkened, making it impossible for Canadian-sized folk to see through it without ducking down and peering through the steering wheel. So I slumped and squinted as my travel companions helped scan for roadkill, highway walkers, fallen trees, gaps in the road, fruit-fed raccoons, and collapsed bridges. I focused on keeping the wheels on the pavement. And we didn’t see a single damn raccoon the whole day so I think that Spanish Wellian artist may have been having us on.

The dinghy trip back to Spanish Wells was done beneath a canvas of faraway stars and over pleasantly flat waters, providing for a rare, non-sketchy evening ride. Our contact from the rental car company was flashing us with her headlights as we approached a dock on Spanish Wells. We passed her the keys, she said thanks for the business, and ten minutes later we were all at work in SeaLight constructing dinner, and before long we finished the day with a magnificent meal of sesame ginger and soy marinated tuna steaks scorched on the flatiron, golden fried yuca, coleslaw, cilantro salad and plenty of red wine.

Exploring Royal Island – Ruins, Berry Poisoning, a Giant Conch, and Fresh Lobster For Dinner

Royal Island, Eleuthera – 1 mile in dinghy, 2 kilometres walked, 1 kilometre paddled, 500 metres snorkelled, 3 lobsters, 1 conch

We had a full day to consume before the anticipated storm arrived later tonight so we got started with a big breakfast of eggs, sausages, sweet fried plantains, grapefruit, and juice. Dave had gone for an early paddleboard ride to scope out the anchorage and shoreline and had found some things of interest for us to all check out.

After breakfast we loaded ourselves into the dinghy and eased across to the shore. Royal Island is privately owned with a small resort on the south-west end, but there was nobody around to ask permission to explore, so we tied the dinghy to an old and battered concrete pier and went for a walk. After ascending a weathered concrete staircase through thick bush we walked into a ruin of what looked to be an old hotel, loaded with small bats that burst out and circled around us as we explored the various stone buildings, some with collapsed roofs, others with large trees rooted into the walls.

We carried our snorkelling gear as we walked a trail leading to the other side of the island, hoping to find a reef. Instead we found a small, abandoned harbour, with sea grass and plastic littering the shoreline and a small boat with fishermen casting their lines into the water. Ana found a rubber ducky on the shore, washed it off, then stuck it into her pocket. Dave found a beaten hard hat, excellent for alternate use as a mushroom foraging bucket or possibly an improvised beach bidet in a pinch. But no suitable reef.

On the way back Kira and Dave analyzed the foliage as we went, scanning trees and plants and shrubberies, far more interested in the greenery than Ana or I usually are. They spotted a fruit tree and we pulled off some small oranges, which were later used to add a touch of tangy citrus flavour to our gin and tonics. They spotted a large termite home and I did what all ten year old boys do – poke it with a stick then throw rocks at it. Kira found a tree sprouting berries and plucked one off, mashed it with her foot, smelled it, then passed it to me, which I rubbed into my fingers and sniffed. I held it up close to Dave's nose for him to sniff it too. Ana googled it. Poisonberry, highly toxic. We washed our hands in the ocean then back at the boat with soap. Good thing I didn’t lick my fingers or stick them in any body cavities.

We constructed magnificent chili dogs for lunch with the leftover veggie chili, which had only improved with time. Dave the Explorer went back out on the paddleboard to find a snorkelling site and surprised us by returning with a giant and beautiful conch, by far the largest of the trip. I demonstrated conch cleaning technique and wished I had planted a hidden camera to capture Kira’s expression when I removed the giant slug from the shell. Shock and awe. Maybe a bit of revulsion. Certainly surprise. Dave was thrilled when I offered him the six-inch long jelly tube from the conch. He opted to chew it into pieces, relishing the flavour, instead of sucking it down whole in one go. This would likely accelerate the jelly tube's aphrodisiac properties, bringing on the Midnight War Hammer earlier than expected. I kept my distance and warned the girls to do the same.

The ladies floated in the dinghy while Dave and I snorkelled, as the approaching cold front had dropped temperatures and rendered the swimming a bit cool. While the visibility was not great, the snorkelling was excellent near the abandoned jetty where thousands of fish had gathered including a swarming school of minnows that remained still as you swam above them, and a huge hermit crab that had taken over a conch shell and was busy feasting on a dead conch from a shell beside it.

I circled further out and found a series of large coral heads, the third of which was home to no fewer than four lobsters and one big moray eel. I called Dave over so we could double team the catch and we were able to tickle-extract three of the spiny beauties, leaving the last one (she was just a teenager), and the eel, as who wants to skin and eat an eel.

A magnificent nacho plate was constructed and eaten as a post-lunch, pre-dinner snack, then we moved onto the main feast of garlic-baked lobster tails, kale salad, and fried eggplant as the 80’s playlist streamed in the cabin and the winds started to build.

ANA + KRIS

Nassau to Spanish Wells – 40 nautical miles sailed, 6 miles in dinghy

The anchor was lifted at 9:30 and we began the 40 mile sail to Spanish Wells, Eleuthera, maneuvering east out of the Nassau harbour then northwards around Athol Island, Blue Lagoon Island, Rose Island, and Chub Rock, being careful to avoid the many reefs and dozens of tourist boats zipping around at speed. The area around Nassau is very, very busy with boat traffic at all hours of the day so diligent attention is needed. Once out of the frenzy, we set a course for Spanish Wells which took us across an open stretch of the ocean where depths plunged into the thousands of feet. I set my fishing line in the hopes of finally landing a worthy game fish…but none took the bait. We did succeed in finally seeing a pod of dolphins, which Ana spotted far off our port side, right in the middle of the deepest water, which was surprising as we had become accustomed to seeing them closer to shore in shallower and busier areas of the ICW and coastal areas of the US. We also saw dozens of flying fish and managed to capture a short video of a few of them flying around. These fish are truly incredible and able maintain flight for far longer than one would expect. I was hoping one would fly up and land on our deck so we could have a closer look, but they kept their distance.

Around 3:30 we arrived at an anchorage at Meeks Patch, an island just south of Spanish Wells that provided good protection from the still strong southeast winds. Along the way one of the upper shrouds in our rigging had come loose and was banging around for a while but finally got wrapped around the mast and lodged itself tight. I must have forgotten to attach cotter rings to this turnbuckle when I assembled the mast back in the spring at Niagara-On-The-Lake Sailing Club, which felt like three eternities ago. Fortunately, we had been sailing with just the jib and not the main, which would have added much more stress on the rigging, so I wasn’t overly worried about it and expected to be able to go up the mast and fix it once we were in settled waters.

Ana had received a message on Noforeignland from a couple we had met way back in North Carolina – John and Catherine on sailing vessel Adventure. They were docked in Spanish Wells and invited us over for a visit. After a quick swim, and after getting hit with a huge wake from a dumbass and careless powerboater who rapidly deaccelerated his boat right beside ours, creating the largest wave possible, we got in the dinghy and started the nearly three mile crossing. Once rounding Meeks Patch we were hit with large waves built up over the stretch of the bay to North Eleuthera and it was a splashy ride, but we did manage a selfie and spilled our drinks and nearly swamped the dinghy in the process of capturing it.

John and Catherine welcomed us aboard their lovely Hans 40’ and we spent a couple of hours chatting over drinks and snacks as we watched the many turtles in the channel bobbing their heads up and down. Though we’d only met them once before, they felt like good friends, and we had an amazing time as we caught up on each other’s movements in the preceeding months. So amazing in fact, that we hatched a plan to travel together in SeaLight to Harbour Island through the dreaded Devil’s Backbone passage the following day. We left their boat around 8:30, vowing for us to all think on the plan then reconnect tomorrow to confirm if we wanted to proceed. By the time we reached the boat, after cruising at top dinghy speed over surprisingly calm waters beneath the light of a full moon, we’d already heard back from them saying they’d love to go. We were thrilled at the prospect of a new adventure as we’d been reluctant to undertake this passage on our own. Eight eyes are better than four.

As we were eating dinner, Ana showed me a message and photo she had just received from Marie, Corey, and Alice, our friends who were still in at the mooring field in Fort Lauderdale. Marie and Alice had been going through some of their trip photos and found an interesting one they had taken in a lock in the Erie Canal, months before we had met them, but shortly after we ourselves had passed through that same lock.

ANA + KRIS