The opaline shallow sea inside the reefs at Little Harbour Cut

We scoped out and rejected three anchorages off Egg Island before backtracking a couple miles to anchor off a failed resort on the southern side of Royal Island. "Resorts" that don't match the name seem to be a feature of the Bahamas. Perhaps the brainchildren of over enthusiastic developers, or investment scams, or casualties of changing travel trends, or simply fodder for well aimed hurricanes, these mistakes waste money, junk up the landscape, and generally complicate the cruiser's life. So it was at Royal. The club house and fitness buildings look in good repair as do the 5 deserted beach villas. But where are the people?

Oh, there's one - some type of security presence? Just enough to discourage me from landing on this otherwise deserted and attractive beach -- another slice of paradise revoked. So I did my Navy Seal routine: wait till dark, counter surveil through the binocs, row ashore with no engine, and slip in behind the breakwater. Hey, there's a shallow patch of sand here outside the ironshore at low tide. Anchors down -- come on Chloe -- were going ashore! Another successful mission and they'll never know we were here...

We infiltrated again at 5:30. Then we upped hook at first light and rounded Egg Island onto a due north course across 50 miles of open Atlantic. Clear of Egg we felt the swell rolling down from the northeast. The sailing was a 16 knot beam reach and Thistle rose, fell, and yawed around as wind driven waves reinforced the swell.

Miles before landfall the undersides of the clouds started glowing green with the reflected glimmer of the Abaco banks. The chart for Little Harbour Cut has the notation "BREAKS ACROSS IN LARGE SWELLS". Warnings like that command attention. Fortunately, our definition of large swells matched the cartographer's. The moderate swell was breaking on the bordering reefs only and nicely framed the navigable cut.

A couple more miles saw us anchored behind long skinny Lynyard Cay listening to the pounding surf across a tropical meadow and outer beach beyond. Another slice of unimproved paradise beckoned.