A Tour of Spanish Wells, Surprise Beach, and a Visit From a Manatee

Spanish Wells – 2 nautical miles sailed, 4 miles in dinghy, 2 kilometres walking, 2 miles by paddleboard

I woke up at my regular time, feeling great. After a bit of writing I took the dinghy out to the reefs north of the anchorage. There was almost no wind as we were between weather systems and the water was flat and beautiful, broken only by the wakes of the passing fishing boats.

The reef was decent but the water clarity was not great, likely churned up by the winds of the past few days. I saw a few fish, but nothing worth shooting at, and could find no sign of lobster. Still, it was good to be in the water as I hadn’t snorkelled for a while.

After breakfast we took the dinghy back into the fuel dock to say goodbye to Catherine and John, who were on their way to Hatchet Bay, Eleuthera to meet up with their friend who lives there and is a caviar and champagne importer. Really. Catherine had texted Ana in the morning and told her they had arranged for a night of free docking for us at the slip they had prepaid for at least another week but wouldn’t be needing it. We’ll take that.

Unfortunately the lobsters had already been unloaded from the lobster boat so we didn't get to see that, but it worked out well as the big boy pulled away just as John and Catherine were arriving. We helped them dock then hung around while they fuelled up and filled their water tanks from the amazing RO system there which is in place primarily for the lobster processing plant, but is also available to cruisers for 50 cents a gallon. I asked the local man filling it about the presence of manatees in Spanish Wells and he told me there were no manatees anywhere in the Bahamas when he was younger, but they’d somehow found their way here over the years, and there were a number of these beautiful sea cows to be found in the channel, even young ones. The prospect of seeing manatees again was thrilling. After our chat, I browsed the seafood store and found grouper, lobster meat, and conch, all for US$20/pound. They also had larger bags of crab claws which were $120. On the top shelf was a giant lobster tail, and a photo of the local lady who had captured the beast just off the reefs here in Spanish Wells a few years before. It was a 14 pound lobster with a tail that weighed over 4 pounds, and they had kept the giant frozen tail trophy in the freezer since then.

After saying goodbye to our new friends and watching them sail down the channel towards the harbour entrance, we dinghy’d over to Pinders Supermarkeet and tied up at the dinghy dock then went for a walk. We visited a few shops, deposited a bag of aluminum cans at the local public school which has a collection facility there (the only such place we’ve discovered in the Bahamas), I picked up a couple of ultra-cheesy Spanish Wells postcards, bought fresh milk, and we found a great book exchange. The town is extraordinarily clean and well kept, and John had told us to avoid locking anything up as the locals are insulted by this. As we walked we saw open doors, keys in golf carts and cars, valuables in the open, no locks anywhere. Small town life still exists.

Ana and I returned to SeaLight, had lunch, then sailed back in and docked at Adventurers marina. A beautiful and protected channel runs through Spanish Wells, creating a mangrove wonderland between it and Russell Island and Charles Island to the south. My poor paddleboard had been suffering from disuse so I removed it from the deck and launched it while Ana ground through some yacht club work in the hot cabin. I paddled all the way to the western end of the channel, passing surfacing turtles and inviting gaps in the mangroves leading to other anchorages, but sadly no manatees. At the end of the channel I was surprised to find a small bridge to Russell Island and an opening to the sea, so I passed beneath the bridge and the channel opened up into a huge and shallow bay with delicious beaches on both sides. I landed the paddleboard on the shallows, becoming shallower by the minute with the dropping tide, and walked through the ankle-deep water for a while, wishing Ana was here with me to see it, then realized I could just go back and get her, so I jumped back on board and paddled back to SeaLight.

We rode the dinghy and when we returned I was surprised to see the shallows I had been walking in had transformed into a massive offshore beach. We pulled the dinghy onto it then walked, first across the sand, then through the shallows which went on and on and on. We crossed through a knee-deep channel back to the mainland where we found two swings suspended from posts mounted into the dry sand, that would become foot-deep water before long. A passing couple offered to take a photograph of us, in an image that is sure to be one of our favourites from the trip.

We had a little swim then got back in the dinghy and motored carefully as the water had become even shallower. As I scanned the bottom, looking for the deepest path, I suddenly saw something large off our bow – a manatee! I cut the engine and stopped the boat. We could see the bubbles breaking on the surface and the swirling patterns in the water from its tail movements as it came towards us. Then, we could see it perfectly – a juvenile manatee, still big, maybe five feet long, but tiny compared to an adult, and already had a few propellor scars on its back plus a smear of blue bottom paint. She passed right beside our boat and we could see her whiskered face so clearly, but also her front flippers, the scars, and her mermaid tail. We floated alongside her for a long time, watching her rooting up sea grass with her nose and sucking it in. We then lost sight of her so I started splashing my hand in the water. Sure enough, she approached again and brought her face right up to my hand where I was able to have the faintest touch on her nose before she had a look at us then descended. We could not believe our luck. We’d seen many manatees back in Vero Beach, but none nearly this close, and her details were just as beautiful as we’d imagined.

The only unfortunate aspect of the experience was that Stella was not here to see it. She would have fallen in love with her.

The Morning Manatee, Snorkelling, Dinghy Washing, and Shopping

Vero Beach – 1 mile by dinghy, 2 miles by paddleboard, 4 kilometres walked, 50 metres snorkelled

For today’s Morning Manatee I sealed my phone in a Ziploc and shoved it in my shorts pocket. The frequent manatee sightings of the past days had increased my confidence level to the point where I thought it safe to bring along a recording device, with the expectation it would not jinx a sighting. And it did not. During my paddle, in nearly the same spot as yesterday, I was rewarded with a pair of manatee darlings. They did not get as close to me, so I couldn’t get a close-up photo, but I did take a short video of them swimming away, and got one image of their noses popping out of the water.

 

Today was our last in Velcro Beach, provided we could unstick ourselves to leave tomorrow, so we joined Ben and Kate on a public bus ride to the main commercial area to pick up provisions. While Ana was in TJ Maxx popping tags, I sauntered over to Panera Bread again and enjoyed an order of chili served in a thick, fragrant, sourdough bread bowl with a slab of baguette on the side as well as the thick bread bowl cap. I ate it all, every last chili-dipped crumb. It’s times like these when I feel so terrible for the glutards of the world. It’s just not fair. Not fair at all.

 

After stuffing myself with carbos like a goose in foie gras season, I staggered around, wheat-drunk, and semi-comatose for about an hour afterwards. If anybody told me anything important during that time, here’s fair warning that I wasn’t listening. When I finally shook off the gluten fog outside of Walmart, I struck up a conversation with a nice man at the bus stop. He was getting overheated in the sun so I grabbed a political yard sign from a nearby trash bin, knocked the ants and chicken nugget remnants from it, and held it up to shade him as we talked. He told me his whole life story, which was a classic tale of rags to riches to rags, starting with white hot American ambition which led to a successful business, a family and big house in the suburbs, and the rest of the dream, but a series of unfortunate events and sub-optimal decision making had landed him in a Vero Beach homeless shelter, which cost him the reasonable sum of two dollars per day which covered three meals and a bunk. And he was pretty damn happy with life. He rode the free public bus. He went to the beach. He wore nice clothes. He played checkers with friends. I really enjoyed our visit.

Once back at the boat we unloaded our provisions, which included 13 containers of UHT milk, salty snacks, and some meal-in-a-can test items from the Dollar Tree, in preparation for our upcoming weeks and months in Bahamas where fresh food can be scarce or expensive or usually both. I volunteered to sample some questionable, but highly affordable and infinitely non-perishable items so I will be monitoring my flatulence, urine quality, bowel movements, thirst levels, and general mood closely these next few days as I work my way through the buck-a-can chili, tamales, and beef stew. Wish me luck.

Ana got busy on the computer doing some yacht club business so I slipped, squeezed, and slithered into my new wetsuit, grabbed my snorkeling gear, and took off in the dinghy for the quiet end of the anchorage. My next level of manatee success was surely going to be encountering one of the big girls underwater, shaking paws, nuzzling into her luscious folds, and squeezing her cheeks before taking a ride on her back as she towed me around the anchorage and we could show off for all our underwater and above water friends. Sadly, the damn visibility was terrible and I could barely see my arms so it was a very short swim.

 

I returned to the boat, filled a bucket with fresh water, and swabbed out the dinghy to make myself feel useful while Ana was still pounding away on the computer, sending out delinquency notices, creating membership records, strategizing the presentation, without a single moan or grumble. She is a real trooper.

 

To slaughter the remaining hours of the day, Ben and Kate come over after dinner and we lounged in SeaLight’s cockpit well past Mariner's Midnight, chatting about everything and nothing, all at once.

The Breath of a Manatee

New Smyrna to Titusville – 28 nautical miles sailed, 1 bridge, 1 mile in dinghy, 11 kilometres walked

At anchor last night, the boat was making some noises we’ve never heard before. You become hyper aware of this when you are living on a floating object you rely on for staying alive. At points during the night it sounded as if there were a sumo wrestler standing on the hatch of the v-berth dragging a chain across the deck then kicking the paddleboard then yanking on various lines. It must have been a combination of the strong winds, opposing currents, and shallow water, but suffice to say we didn’t have the most restful slumber.

 

By 8am we were on the water with 15-20 knots of wind pushing us along, and we saw the Daily Dolphin within minutes of departure. At points along the route the dredged channel was very narrow so we really had to be paying attention. 28 miles later we reached Titusville (located just across the bay from Cape Canaveral) in very strong winds and had a hell of a time getting attached to a ball in the mooring field outside of the Titusville Marina. I was at the helm and Ana was balanced precariously with a boat hook at the front of the boat trying to snag the heavy and marine growth encrusted pendant. She snagged it a few times but wasn’t able to get a rope through it before the bow was blown over by the wind. In the process, our new boat hook snapped in half and dropped into the ocean, joining the other new one that had blown overboard last week, so we were now back down to the old boat hook we started with, which was also broken at the end and held together by a thick wad of duct tape. We are going to have to start buying those things in six packs. Ana took the helm and I went up to the front and we were finally able to get it after three or four more tries.

 

After a quick lunch Ana gave her mom a call to say hello. I was reminded once again of the trials and tribulations of trying to learn the Portuguese language. I can understand quite a bit of Portuguese, particularly when Ana is speaking, and I heard her telling her mom where we were and that we were excited to see the planned SpaceX rocket launch tomorrow night. I was curious to learn the Portuguese word for rocket so I listened intently. When they finished their conversation I just had to ask. 

 

“So let me check my Portuguese comprehension here,” I said to Ana. “Did I hear correctly that the Portuguese word for rocket is ‘that big thing that goes to the Moon and has little men inside of it’?”

 

“You heard right.”

 

“I’m never going to learn this language.”

 

We lowered the dinghy from the boat and surfed into the marina on the giant waves rolling across the mooring field. As we entered, one of the dockhands was waving at me furiously to slow down, which I did, then we coasted up one of the channels and got tied up at their dinghy dock. We went inside to check in and were told by the lovely staff that you need to move extremely slow in the marina as they have a number of manatees and dolphins that come here to give birth. The manatees are very slow moving so they need time to get out of the way of spinning boat propellors and boat keelsl. And dolphins…well, who could live with themselves if you ran over a baby dolphin. We were also told they regularly saw alligators in the marina too. Who needs the Tampa Zoo when you have the Titusville Marina?

 

Ana and I walked into the downtown area, passing a swamp alligator along the way, but most of the business were closed. The CVS pharmacy was open so we went in for a look. We found a killer deal on some items, but you needed to have one of their membership loyalty cards to get the sale price. The stack of loyalty cards we’ve picked up along the way from various stores in the many states we’ve travelled through had now surpassed the height of a can of Yuengling. So, I signed up for the CVS membership, making sure to use my dad’s email address in case they started spamming, and the nice man at the front who seemed positively thrilled for me, issued me two fresh new cards and tapped me twice on each shoulder with a striped broom handle to anoint me into the brotherhood.  I paid for the four cans of tuna and two boxes of Grape Nuts, gave the cashier the secret handshake, then we left.

 

“How can you eat Grape Nuts? It tastes like rabbit food,” Ana said.

 

“You’ve eaten rabbit food?”

 

“You know what I mean. When I was a kid I remember seeing that cereal on the shelf. I loved grapes. I loved nuts. Sounded like the perfect cereal. So I begged my dad to buy it for us. It was disgusting. He ended up eating it so it wouldn’t go to waste and wasn’t too happy about it.”

 

“That experience you describe happened to every kid in Canada. I hated Grape Nuts too. But at some point in life I got my adult taste buds and started enjoy all the disgusting cereal.”

 

“At one point was that?”

 

“Same point I stopped liking Count Chocula, Fruity Pebbles, Lucky Charms, and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I think I was 37.”

 

Our next discovery was a groovy 50’s themed ice cream shop so we stopped for a waffle cone and planned our next move. And the next move we planned was a 45 minute walk to the movie theatre to catch the 4:15 showing of Gladiator 2. Now, in my regular world, the thought of going to a Monday afternoon movie would be ludicrous, as I’d normally be checking email or talking to colleagues on the phone, but not this Monday. No sir. So we again found ourselves walking along highway 1A, with thousands of vehicles speeding past, most of them wondering what two able bodied adults were doing wandering the streets when they should be at work. I just smiled and waved at them all.

 

The movie was pretty good. Ana loved it. And I loved the classy reclining theatre seats. We stopped at a sports bar after the movie for $4 Margarita Mondays and a platter of phenomenal pulled pork nachos, which provided the needed caloric boost for the long walk back.

 

Once at the marina, we fired up the dinghy and every so slowly puttered towards the exit. As we were on our way out, I heard a blowing noise, exactly how the marina staff had described a manatee surfacing, and we looked back in the darkness to see a large shape just breaching the water’s surface, then disappeared. A manatee! I stopped the engine and we floated for a while to see if it would come back up. But it had disappeared.