Harbour Island to Spanish Wells

Harbour Island to Spanish Wells – 13 nautical miles sailed, 2 miles in dinghy

I didn’t even open my eyes until 8:30. I staggered, blurry eyed, to the stove and fired up the kettle, trying to recall if anybody had fallen off the boat last night or if we were all present and accounted for. I wasn’t sure, but the dinghy was up in the davits and there was no sign of disorder so I assumed everything was cool.

The next to surface was Catherine, who joined me in the cockpit and we chatted for a while, enjoying the predictable, but welcome, morning sunshine. Ana arrived next, then John and we assembled in the cabin to recount the evening’s event while Ana and I made pancakes and scrambled eggs.

The breakfast helped the healing process along and soon we were underway, headed back to Spanish Wells after our plundering of Harbour Island. The strong winds east yesterday had shifted south, which was good for our Devil’s Backbone passage, but had left large swells that rolled and rocked the boat as we twisted through the narrow spots with waves breaking on coral on both sides at times. We made it through but it was a little scarier than last time.

Just before entering the narrow channel of Spanish Wells from the east are six mooring balls, but unfortunately all of these were already taken by boats, so instead we pulled up to Ronald’s Service fuel dock which was closed Sundays, hoping we could stay. We tied up the boat, tried calling all the numbers we could find for Ronald with no results, then drove John and Catherine in the dinghy back to their boat, passing at least ten surfacing turtles along the way. There was talk of happy hour at the nearby Wreckers Pub, but everybody was feeling and looking a little spent so I had my doubts.

Ana had a nap in the afternoon while I sat in the cockpit doing some writing, listening to music, and allowing myself to be regularly distracted by the many fishing boats passing by. This is the fishing and lobstering centre of the Bahamas, and a real Bahamian working town as there are no resorts on Spanish Wells, just small guesthouses. As I was tapping on the keyboard a man came up to the boat and said hello. I found out he was Kyle the owner and I apologized for taking up space on his fuel dock but explained we had tried to contact him. He was totally cool and said it would normally be fine for us to stay here but he was expecting a lobster boat to return tonight, with anywhere between 10,000 and 60,000 pounds of lobster tails, and it would required the entire dock. Despite being officially closed on Sunday he was happy to fill up my jerry cans with gasoline for the dinghy and also found me another dock we could rent for the night if we wanted to. We chatted while he filled up the gas and he gave me a rundown of how the lobster boats work, how long they stay out for, and how they catch the lobsters. He was also the owner of the lobster processing plant and seafood store located right behind the fuel dock. I asked if he could give us a tour of the plant, and he said he’d love to but there are strict regulations in place for food processing and non-employees were not allowed within the building. But I did plan to return the next morning to see them offloading the lobster boat.

We sailed out to a nearby anchorage called Gun Point and were admittedly relieved when Happy Hour with Catherine and John was called off due to extreme exhaustion. We enjoyed our quiet night on SeaLight and were asleep earlier than usual. 

Navigating the Devil’s Backbone to Harbour Island

Meeks Patch to Spanish Wells to Harbour Island – 13 nautical miles sailed, 1 mile in dinghy, 5 kilometres walked

We’ve gotten ourselves worked up a few times on this trip based on information we’ve sourced from Facebook and other online forums. One was the availability of water in the Bahamas, which was said to be scarce, expensive, and of poor quality. We’ve found the exact opposite. Another was the horrors of crossing the Gulf Stream. We chose a less than ideal weather window, but it really wasn’t that bad. A third was the exorbitant cost of things in the Bahamas. Well, Nassau groceries, meals, and drinks are no more expensive than what we found in south Florida. And many things are cheaper.

Then, there’s the Devil’s Backbone. This is a stretch of densely packed coral reefs and rocks that run along the north coast of Eleuthera and must be transited to reach the renowned settlement of Harbour Island. The majority of cruising guides and online discussions strongly advise hiring a local pilot for $150 to guide you through the passage. I reviewed the recommended track and did not see anything worse than many of the tricky passages we’ve made on this trip in both the Bahamas and through tight spots on the ICW. But still…we were hesitant.

I checked the wind forecast for the day, which called for steady east winds, which are favourable for this passage. I looked at the tides and found that if we left around 10:30 we’d get more than half a tide which would boost depths by two feet plus the overhead mid-day sunlight would make it easy to spot coral heads. The trip was a go!

There’s no more pleasurable way to start your day than by climbing a sailboat mast. I ascended the aluminum spar like an aged chimpanzee as Ana cranked on the winch to pick up the slack on the halyard attached to my bosun's chair. I reached the first spreader where I reconnected the faulty shroud turnbuckle then secured it with cotter rings, and did the same on the other side. Job done, no drama.

We pulled the anchor and motored over to near the entrance to Spanish Wells harbour, reanchored, then I dinghy’d over to sailing vessel Adventure to pick up John and Catherine, dodging the many turtles along the way as they popped their green heads up for a gulp of air. As experienced boaters, John and Catherine had packed all the right stuff – fresh vegetables, small soft backpacks, and a bunch of beer and wine.

After a quick tour of SeaLight and group review of the proposed route we were off. John shared the same opinion that the passage simply did not look that difficult. So with three independent devices and eight eyes tracking our course, we began the trip. As we approached the Devil’s Backbone I was expecting to encounter walls of jagged coral reaching up from the sea in all directions, menacing rock spikes, limestone towers of ancient rock dropping shards into the water, skewering any passing boats. But to nobody’s surprise, it was easy. There was no exposed coral and we simply followed the recommended magenta line on the chart and it was spot on. I didn’t even see any depths under twelve feet until we had passed the end of it and sailed into the shallow harbour. The route took us quite close to shore, but not nearly as close as we had sailed leaving Cape May, where there were jagged and dangerous rocks on shore which I could have hit with a tossed lemon. And not nearly as tight as some of the hairpin curves on the ICW where we were persistently close to grounding. And far easier than many of the of the narrow, scary, rocky, and shallow passages we twisted through in the North Channel and Georgian Bay. Any sailor who has made it this far, and chooses a good weather day, should have no trouble in the least with this passage.

We anchored in a beautiful spot close to Valentines Marina (appropriate, for Valentine’s Day) then had a light lunch in the cockpit as we visited. John and Catherine are from New Jersey and have been ocean sailors for decades. We quickly found we have many things in common – love of travel, liberal political views, similarly aged kids, a very similar return sailing plan, and some shared annoyances. The conversation was easy as we bounced from topic to topic.

We took the dinghy into Valentines, passing a couple of nurse sharks sucking up snacks from the sea bottom, and tied up at their free dock. Harbour Island is known for its pink sand beaches, cute streets, golf carts, and classic island vibe. I visited here once, many years ago, but I really didn’t remember much about it besides my first introduction to the “nail game” at a local bar where they had strung a small wire loop from a string and you had to swing it just right to latch it onto a hook on the wall. I played it for hours.

Our first big decision after walking up past the bar and onto the skinny street was right or left. We chose right, and soon saw a sign as a cross street saying “Rest of Island This Way <--”. As we walked we were passed by dozens of golf carts, driven by both locals and visitors. There was a much greater density of development here compared to what we’d seen in the Exumas – many shops, restaurants, service companies, schools, and well maintained houses painted with vibrant colours. We reached the beach and bought a round of drinks from Mrs. V’s then sat at her shaded picnic tables to enjoy the view. Now the famous pink sand beach is not a vibrant pink flamingo colour as we were expecting, but upon walking along the water the pink colour becomes apparent, especially the part of the beach where the waves slide up and down and little trails of pink flour sand tickle your toes.

We walked a good distance on the beach then cut in at a resort high on a hill where we stopped for another drink and to enjoy the spectacular ocean views. The entire shoreline is protected by a thick reef which breaks up the waves and provides for unusually calm water, perfect for swimming. Tomorrow may have to be a beach day.

Our slow wanderings took us through many streets in Harbour Island and we found a series of free public taps (which I plan to use Sunday before our return trip to top up our water tanks) near the small Fish Fry and Straw Market.

With our first small taste of Harbour Island we returned to SeaLight for an unusually long and immensely enjoyable sundowner, then got to work on a late dinner, where we all pitched in – I mixed up fritter batter and sauce and hammered down then minced the stubborn rubber conch meat, Ana made coleslaw, Caribbean rice, and fried the fritters, Catherine chopped all the vegetables, and John finished things up with searing rich salmon filets on a hot pan with a blanket of fresh organic bok choy and onions. What a feast! Our cockpit dinner was long, slow, and tastefully decorated with springy conversation and views of the colourful lights glowing from the bars, restaurants, and resorts along the shoreline.

By 10:30 I was finished so I slipped away to bed while the others finished up their tea, putting the wraps on a magnificent day.