Only a week since the last post. Not too bad if I do say so myself. This blog might start to have a consistent release date for once, though that’s far from a likely occurrence. Ahem, well, I wrote that first line a week ago when I thought I was going to be able to upload the post, but due to an unforeseen complication it had to wait. Since then, we haven’t been through a wi-fi hotspot and once more, the post has grown. The past couple of weeks have been an interesting lot to say the least. We saw in the New Year, we went on a New Year’s Day dive, passaged into the Bahamas, walked along a deserted island and braved some rising seas to hunker down in port until the weather passes. As I wrote this the first time we were holed up in the Flying Fish Marina, Clarence Town preparing to head into the Exuma chain later this evening. Of course we factored in some game fishing time too. Since then however, we entered and left the Exuma chain. Now I’m writing this from Nassau, the Bahamian capital and I realize I’ve made the opening paragraph of this blog post all too confusing.

New Years was exciting, though we nearly missed it! We’d spent the whole day exploring the island and were so tired at 9:30 pm we decided to have an hours sleep before heading back out to tackle the throngs of party animals in Provo’s Grace Bay. Whether we missed alarms, or because the most tired amongst us sabotaged the equipment, we found ourselves waking at 11:15 pm scrambling to get everyone into the car to avoid missing the countdown. Luckily we got there just in time for the countdown followed by the impressive firework displays put on by the resorts. Then, whilst the ‘oldies’ (I know I’m going to get in trouble for calling them that) sat next to a large beach bonfire, the more party spirited of us crashed some of the resort parties and danced until the bands and DJ’s called it a night. It was a good decision to retire semi-early for us anyway as we’d scheduled in a New Year’s Day dive.

Scuba diving off West Caicos; an incredible way to see in the dawn of a new year. We performed two dives over the course of the day, each at around 30-40 metres deep. Definitely the deepest dives I’ve done personally, though I was accompanied by a pair of far more senior divers to keep me safe. Keep me safe they did, especially throughout a small incident involving a low air supply. Though that’s a story to tell my mother in person least she worries. Minor hiccups aside, we completed a wall dive and a sand/choral bed dive. Both showed an abundance of fish and ocean fauna, but the latter definitely showcased the best highlights. The first included a large barracuda and a dumb move on a group member’s part (one of the American’s in our group swam into arms distance of the guy); the second gave us monstrous Crayfish, an extremely apathetic turtle and a stalking reef shark. Not to be scoffed at, this shark was probably around 3 metres and cruised back and forth just off the edge of a shelf as we were all enamoured by the chill turtle.

Then, as soon as we’d arrived back at the marina from the dive, we were off once more. This time the aim was to do an overnight passage from Turks and Caicos to the bottom of the Bahamas. Our first Bahamian stop was to be Plana Cays, a small, uninhabited island with beautiful white sand beaches spanning the length. We spent the better part of a day there, swimming into shore and walking about the island. We took our own makeshift, balloon Wilson along to recreate some tear-jerking Castaway moments. You know, tourist stuff. I climbed the mast of the boat that day too, well, half of it anyways… I’d have gone all the way had it not been for the high winds forcing me off of it into the stays, I swear. We made a friend that day too: Barry, the barracuda. This guy was a right proper stooge. We all swam around 100 metres into shore with this 5 foot long good-for-nothing following us the entire way in, lurking just on the edge of our vision. Eye contact all the way.

Another overnighter landed us in Clarence Town on Long Island in a small marina for a few nights to wait out some bad weather. It was pretty low key considering it was the first major settlement we encountered heading into the Bahamas. We spent the first day getting cleared by customs and dining in the marinas restaurant, but soon realized there wasn’t much to the town besides what stood before the eye. Turns out the island used to have 14,000 residents, though most moved to the capital Nassau and now only 3,000 live there permanently. A lot of run down businesses and houses left in their wake. Another quaint thing we noticed were the seemingly infinite number of churches on the island. I’d be joking if I said there was one per person, but it sure as hell seems like it when driving up the island. Besides hitting up some local bars and making good use of the brilliant marina showers, we had to visit Dean’s Blue Hole. That was wicked. It’s the largest salt water sink hole in the world and is around 600 feet deep. You might recognize it from videos of free divers or numerous commercials filmed there. It’s damn eerie, even just swimming down the initial 10 metre deep slope before the drop off, I couldn’t imagine sinking into the abyss below for minutes on end. But I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to jump off the cliffs surrounding it. At the very end of our Clarence Town stay it was my birthday, which we spent at a secluded white sand beach. It was definitely an amazing surprise to have the rest of the crew put up balloons and gift me with some cool presents (cigar, Turks and Caicos T-shirt and a Lilo). The cake they baked on board the boat was indeed, the icing on the cake. Thanks to them again for being wonderful and sorry for the use of that cringe worthy phrase.

The weather cleared and our gap to cross over to the sheltered Western coasts of the Exuma chain appeared. Off again. Another overnight and then the next afternoon we found ourselves having to motor up the leeward Exuma coast, alongside its hundreds of Cays. Although all of these islands are picturesque and swimming amongst them was a dream, there were a few stand outs. Firstly, mosquito beach. I can’t recall the exact Cay this occurred on and whilst it isn’t a pleasant memory, it was memorable to say the least. We headed in to shore at sundown armed with a pitcher of rum punch and glasses for a sun downer. Little did we know the gorgeous beach we’d chosen was an ambush. A trap to be sprung. We beached the dingy and next thing you know, all the girls are running up and down the beach being chased by mosquitos. Swarms of the things. All we could do was chug our drinks and get going again. Sunset ruined. Better Cays were to come however.

Pig Bay, or Staniel Cay is just how it sounds. A beach full of pigs. Some small, some massive, all running out to the water at the hum of an outboard. They know the drill and must get fed by scores of passers-by every day. They’re all tame enough to pet and play with, but rowdy enough to chase you along the beach if you happen to be the unfortunate soul in charge of holding the bag of scraps for your party. I don’t think I’ve heard the word ‘cute’ used as much as our hour on the beach with the baby pigs, but rightfully so. We all wanted to steal one by the end. Surely boats are ideal places for raising pigs? Needless to say we all enjoyed our pork a little less a few nights later.

Another fantastic island we anchored at for a night was Allan’s Cay. What made it special were the hundreds of native Iguanas all lounging across the length of the beach and into the undergrowth. Prehistoric looking fellows they were, with jagged movements and leathery looking skin. They were, like the pigs, rather accustomed to us ugly humans and expected food. One brave guy even ate from a hand, but most weren’t perplexed and merely basked in the light of the dying sun. We also sought out Johnny Depp’s (the most iconic Caribbean pirate) island and went on a bit of a pirate escapade. We circled the estate before finding a secluded beach and landed on it. Just so we could say we had, but hardly the crime of the century. But at least now we can say we’ve committed pirate-like acts that extend past rum drinking and sailing.

So now we’re in Nassau, the Bahamian capitol as I mentioned earlier. The rest of my family, mother and sister, are currently en route to meet us in Florida so we’re making our plans to cross the Gulf Stream soon. The window has to be just right. Whilst we don’t want to leave too early and risk wasting time we could have spent in the Bahamas, we also don’t want to leave too late and end up in 30+ knots of wind as well as 3+ metre swells. But that’s something I’m going to leave to the ‘experts’. You’ll probably hear from us again once we’ve reached Florida. Until then…