Read the first part of the Bahamas report here: Journey: Ready for the islands - Travelling in the Bahamas
Our Powercat cuts through the water with determination. We set course for Elbow Cay and Hope Town - another highlight of this charter cruise through the Abacos in the north of the Bahamas. The red and white striped lighthouse of Elbow Reef can be seen from afar; as we get closer, however, we realise that it is half covered. Apparently the historic landmark is being renovated. An hour before high tide and with just under two metres under the keel, we cross the bar before entering the natural harbour of Hope Town. The buoyage off Eagle Rock consists of faded wooden piles and a few small buoys. But soon the passage opens up to the wide sweep of the natural harbour. We pass the lighthouse on the starboard side and immediately take one of the murings in the front area, which are used here for mooring. balls are called. They are designed in a couple of wise ways to minimise the swaying of catamarans. As the season has only just started, there is not much going on. Just over a dozen boats are moored here: Charter cats and a few monohulls. The most beautiful yacht is from faraway Maine, a ketch called "Yonder".
The lighthouse is the last hand-operated lighthouse in the world. Its mechanism has to be wound up every day
We put the dinghy in the water and motor to the marina. There we learn that the mooring fee is only collected directly at the boat in the evening. So we continue to the lighthouse, where a sign confirms our suspicions: "Lighthouse closed for restoration works. No access." No access. That's a shame, as we had planned to take a photo of the harbour from above. But the workmen on the gallery help us out: We put Nils' Canon in my rucksack and tie it to a rope, which they lower and pull up again. The picture is in the can!
The navigation mark is the last of its kind in the world that is still operated by hand: Every day, the mechanism has to be wound up like a clock so that the paraffin lantern can turn at night. Hurricane Dorian also left its mark here three years ago, hence the extensive renovation.
We leave the site, take the dinghy across the harbour and moor at the Lower Public Dock. In fact, there are even more moorings: for the pedestrian ferry and for the supply and work boat with its wide hatch at the bow. Then there are the fast ferries that commute to Marsh Harbour. No sooner have we moored than we run into four grinning pirates in a golf cart. Their booty: a pallet of beer and a bottle of rum. Of course, there's no time to waste when partying and it's best to start in the morning: "If you wanna be a pirate, you gotta do the pirate stuff !", they hoot and race off on four tiny wheels.
In fact, there is probably no region of the world's oceans that was home to more pirates than the Bahamas: at the beginning of the eighteenth century, there are said to have been a thousand, including such illustrious names as Stede Bonnet, Charles Vane and Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard. But this golden era of privateering (at least for some of them) ended in 1718 with the arrival of Governor Woodes Rogers in Nassau. He granted an amnesty and persuaded many to take down their skull and crossbones flags. Some, however, hid on the Abacos, where their trail was lost - and that of their treasures ...
The colourful houses have names that sound like holidays and little getaways
In any case, today's Hope Town is nothing like a buccaneer's nest. The destructive traces of Hurricane Dorian are also barely visible, although many of the buildings are clearly new. Bright colours, lots of pastel, elegant gardens, framed by bright white latticework. The houses have names that sound like holidays and little escapes - Tranquility, Endless Summer, Rocky Retreat. In front of them: sweeping blossoms and inviting benches. The promenade, shaded by palm trees, may not be fifty metres long, but it is off-limits to golf carts. A small crescent of sand turns out to be the place where the first settlers landed - refugees.
After years of war, Great Britain recognised the independence of the young United States in 1783. Many loyalists then left the country, from New York in the north to Florida in the south. The search was on for a new home for these loyal subjects. The Bahamas still belonged to the British crown. So the search turned to the still uninhabited Abacos and soon the first cargo ships dropped anchor, including a brigantine whose name could be used for the entire venture: "Hope". Despite difficult conditions - the agricultural conditions were nowhere near as favourable as they had been advertised to the settlers - the settlements developed magnificently. When the Bahamas finally gained their own independence fifty years ago, nobody thought about packing their bags.
In the meantime we are sitting with conch fritters on the terrace of Cap'n Jack's, directly above the water with a view of our catamaran and the lighthouse behind it. It's not difficult to decide to stay another day tomorrow to explore the island: The south of Elbow Cay is waiting for us.
We leave the bikes behind and walk to the tip of the beach
We head to our flybridge for a sundowner. The twilight is short and soon the anchor lights are reflected on the water. The wind will shift to the north and increase during the course of the day. Up to twenty knots are forecast for the day after tomorrow - and rain. Our plan for today remains unchanged: after breakfast, we pack our things for the beach. We actually wanted to hire a golf cart, but a bit of exercise isn't bad either. So bikes it is. We are the only customers at Abaco Sun Bicycle Rentals. For ten dollars each, we get two blue fixie beach cruiser with fairly comfortable saddles and a decent gear ratio - but only with a single gear. We still don't think this is a problem and pedal off along Nigh Creek out of the village, a natural canal lined with mangroves. We want to be back by seventeen o'clock at the latest when the shop closes. Then comes the first steep hill. And then the next: apparently the islands only look flat from the water. With only one gear, we work up a good sweat on the hills, but the wind cools us down.
The asphalt road winds its way south, past white holiday homes and the now equally familiar colourful signposts with their owners' places of origin. Sand on the road, bushes beside it. A bit like Sylt in midsummer. Except that you drive on the left. It's three and a half miles to the south of Elbow Cay, past White Sound Harbour, then to the right and onwards until the road ends at a car park. Behind it is the turquoise bay and the beach: Tahiti Beach. A dead end in paradise. We leave the bikes behind and walk to the tip, where the sand runs into the sea in a shallow tongue. There are also two palm trees here (there must have been more before Dorian), which provide enough shade for us and our rucksacks. A little further out in the bay, two sailing cats are anchored, a couple almost reach the shore in their hired day cruiser. This is possible here on the sheltered inner side of Elbow Cay. We stay in the water as long as the burning sun allows.
On the way back we only get as far as the Abaco Inn. "Tan your toes in the Abacos" is their motto. So get out of your shoes and onto the terrace! Down below, the breakers roll onto the hard beach. The local Kalik is ice cold. Sometimes it's worth waiting for the reward. An hour passes and the beer is followed by a cocktail. However, we wait in vain for the photogenic surfing couple (he Rasta, she with a wild blonde mane, both with gleaming teeth) to plunge into the surf and say goodbye - only to stop again a mile later at On Da Beach. Ocean view the second, with the Atlantic Ocean in front and the bar with a pyramid of bottles behind it. We order surf and turf and big bird and philosophise about travelling once again. With a view of the open horizon, there is no other way. We set sail late, start pedalling again and are soon back in Hope Town. What a day!
In the evening, the clouds come as a harbinger of the predicted rain. But then a single star flashes out. Maybe we'll be lucky after all? Hope remains!
Service
Cruising stages
S Marsh Harbour - Great Guana Cay: 12.5 nm
- Great Guana Cay - Man-O-War Cay: 7.5 nm
- Man-O-War Cay - Elbow Cay: 6.5 nm
- Elbow Cay - Little Harbour: 19.5 nm
- Little Harbour - Marsh Harbour: 15.5 nm
Z Marsh Harbour
Total distance: 61.5 nm
Literature
Precinct manual "The Cruising Guide to Abaco 2022" (published annually, available on board) by Steve, Jon and Jeff Dodge. White Sound Press; 176 p., 84 charts and detailed plans, 88 photos, area and background information, tide table, waypoints, format 28 x 22.5 cm, spiralbound; € 45.60. Order via: www.hansenautic.de
Sport boat charts"NV.Atlas Bahamas 9.1 Northwest" (2022/23) by NV Charts; 26 p., 7 over-sailors, 16 area charts, format A3, stapled, with marina guide (50 p., A4); 69,80 €. www.nvcharts.com
Moorings 433 PC (motor catamaran) - Length: 13 m - Width: 6.72 m - Draft: 1.00 m - Cruising speed: 8 kn - Engine: 2x 320 hp (diesel) - Plotter - Dinghy in davits - Generator - Wetbar/grill - Cabins: 3 (3 double berths) - Shower/WC: 2 - Price examples for a charter week: from 8644 euros (start: 1 November 2023), from 11,774 euros (start: 1 April 2024)
Charter: The Marsh Harbour base on Great Abaco in the Abacos is part of The Moorings' global charter offering. The company has a second base in Nassau in the Bahamas (in the Exumas) and five more in the Caribbean. Information: The Moorings, Theodor-Heuss-Str. 53 - 63, Entrance B, 61118 Bad Vilbel, Tel. 06101-55 79 15 22. www.moorings.de
Nautical information
The precinct: The Sea of Abaco stretches for almost 100 kilometres off the east coast of the island of Great Abaco. To the east, the saltwater lagoon is separated from the open North Atlantic by a chain of elongated cays. On the seaward side, there are coral reefs. The Sea of Abaco is mostly shallow (two to four metres) with an even bottom profile, which makes navigation easier, but the average tidal range of around one metre means that special care is required when navigating, and not only in very shallow areas. Fairways are marked on the chart, but there is hardly any buoyage. All skippers require an appropriate nautical licence from their home country.
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Christian Tiedt
Editor Travel
