There is no finer journey than the one that leads you to paradise

I am assuming that whenever anyone sets out on a new venture, whether it is a vacation, a new job or maybe just a shopping trip, there is in advance, a tiny sense of feel good anticipation. A cruise to a new place out of reach for most on a small boat, delivers that same rush, although the anticipation is often mixed with a small coating of trepidation.
I never fail to ask myself whether or not the risk will be worth the journey. There is a lot of work to do in advance that are not the normal things one experiences every day. On the sea, it is not like having a flat tire on the side of a road, or if an accident happens we can drive to the local hospital. Nor can we stop at the next highway exit for a burger, or fill up the tank. All these things not only have to be thought out and planned in advance, but all require due diligence. I'm thinking the planning is almost as exciting and important as the trip itself, if you like that sort of thing. Save for the reward at the end is compounded exponentially.
Such was this trip to the area known as the Near Bahamas.
They are a group of islands on the Bahamas Bank known as the Abacos chain. After crossing the notorious Florida Straits, better known as the Gulf Stream, which in itself is one of the biggest challenges reaching the Banks, you enter into the shallow waters just north of the Grand Bahama Island better known for its main harbour of Freeport.
Two phenomena take place; one physically and one mentally. First, the water in the Gulf Stream is almost a mile deep and the water on the Bahama Banks averages fifteen feet, so immediately you enter into an area where you expect to run aground at any moment. This again is compounded by the fact that all the charts allow for only a few places in all that open water to enter the Banks and your easterly entry point is being challenged by the Gulf Stream flowing north on a current of three miles per hour.
The line between the two is definitely drawn. You pass from royal blue of the deep ocean immediately on to a shelf of the most beautiful turquoise water in the world. Two minutes previous the depth sounder on the boat would not register the depth but now is giving you miniature readings; all under twenty feet. Self preservation forces you to slow the boat down, because although the water is deep enough to easily float our boat, the mind cannot make the adjustment that quickly. The bottom is now easily visible, and the water over the next month will become even shallower, but the brain will have time to adjust.
On entering the banks there is a rim of shifting sand caused by the two forces of the sea; wind and current. Therefore, because you are fifty miles from anywhere you have to be sure you enter through a channel where the water flows through to the ocean and vice versa, depending on the tidal flow. There are no signposts or land references, just a spot called "Memory Rock". There are underwater wrecks to avoid; plainly marked on the charts.You wonder for a second as you pass by, how many souls might have perished here. A very sobering moment.
After leaving Stuart on November 22nd, we motored down to Lake Worth, a small lake along the Palm city area of the Intracoastal Waterway and anchored with Soulstice II and a growing number of other cruising boats at the north end of the lake. Although we planned to stay only for a few days waiting for an opportunity to cross, (Lake Worth has an excellent access to the ocean) we ended up staying for a week waiting for the north wind to change. That means we spent the American Thanksgiving and Black Friday secured to the lake bottom. However that didn't secure us permanently to the boat as we have a trusty rubber inflatable dinghy (RIB) an outboard motor, and a good landing area. That gave us the All American dream of shopping centres, grocery stores, coffee shops and various chain restaurants including McDonalds.
The reason we have to wait is because when a north wind blows down against the north bound Gulf current, thank goodness even a fool has sense enough not to venture out into sharp angry seas 10 to 15 feet and higher. After provisioning for the last time we were joined by Heritage and Miss Ellie and at 3:30 AM we made our way out through the breakwater and headed on another adventure.
It takes about ten hours to cross the Stream, but that is still not quite halfway to the nearest island in the direction we planned. By nine o'clock that night after travelling for 18 ½ hours we decided to stop and anchor overnight miles and miles from nowhere under a full canopy of all the brilliant stars.
Just two hours earlier we were treated to one of the most spectacular things I ever seen in my life. A rocket left Cape Canaveral just behind and north of us and blasted into space over our heads, in the twilight of the evening over the Sea of Abaco. We had front row seats as it blasted its way spaceward through the flaming stages it requires to send a few humans on a journey more stunning than ours. It was perfect timing as the sun had just set and the raw edges of the earth could still be seen in the left over light. Apparently they had been waiting as we were, for the wind to subside, and the timing for us was perfect. They will never know how it would count as one of the top ten things I ever seen. Right away, I thought how lucky I am to be a sailor and get to see things I normally would never see, even by accident.
This trip was planned for a two-fold purpose. First it was to be an adventure to a part of the world, although fairly close to America, not many get to visit. It is important to me as a history buff to see a place where the people loyal to the Crown of England during the American Revolutionary War and those people who were set free from slavery by the same nation, chose a place to live and start a new life. It was a time of division in the new America and because they were speaking out against the revolution as "land mutiny" of their British brothers, they were being called traitors even as they were boarding their boats to leave! Other humans who for decades had been enslaved, slipped away as quietly as they could, but still were branded "runaways". There is a monument garden in Green Turtle Cay which approximately 50 busts of influential and defiant men and women subjects of the King, chose to flee rather than live with "revolutionary traitors".
Secondly, there is a rule in America, which I assume is duplicated in Canada that requires a vessel to leave the country after one year of cruising. On re-entering you can apply for a new cruising permit which allows you to "cruise waters of USA". In the Bahamas you apply for a cruising permit which only lasts for six months. However after the six months you can re-apply together with another $150.00 fee. So to re-enter and cruise in the US means you have to leave.
We touched Bahamian soil for the first time in Spanish Cay, a fairly large private island with no inhabitants other than a few souls who run a marina, and the government official who has an "office" there to register in-coming vessels to issue cruising permits. It had been 36 hours since we left Lake Worth but included the nine hours we anchored overnight on the Banks.
The "office" of the customs official in Spanish Cay is a swing set on the balcony overlooking the marina. This marina, as is the whole island is owned by some wealthy person who keeps his 125 ft. four story yacht there, and runs deep sea fishing derbies which justifies the 70 slip marina. It also is a place to keep his "boat" which is one of three he owns kept in various locales around the globe. Poor little rich guy. The manicured grounds down to the beach include a large oval pool, a general store, bar and restaurant and some accommodation for guests.
The four boats, after arriving safely and acquiring our permits decided to stay overnight and plan to press further into the Sea of Abacos the next day. It gave us all a chance to swim in the pool, walk on their beach and to see lots of curly tailed geckos. Then, next on to Green Turtle Cay which I have studied on charts for years.