Conception

Boy, it's hard to find words to adequately describe the beauty of Conception Island.  We felt very lucky that the weather cooperated enough to allow us a window to venture out to this tiny, exposed paradise.  

Yup, that'll do

Conception is an uninhabited island that, luckily, the Bahamian people had the foresight to protect as The Conception Land and Sea Park under the jurisdiction of The Bahamas National Trust.  Visitors are encouraged to leave no trace of their presence here.  Of course, fishing is prohibited.  Scott, dutifully took the fishing rods out of their holders at the back of the boat, and put his Hawaiian sling on the shelf.  To be honest, we all needed a break from eating fish.  

The water was the clearest we'd seen yet.  So clear that the only evidence of it as it lapped onto the beach was the sand darkening below.  The main attraction on this small island, besides beautiful crescent beaches, are miles of mangrove creeks that flood the entire interior of the island with fingers of aqua water.   One inlet provides access to this inner maze.  We took the dinghy to the entrance and spent two days exploring on paddle boards and an inflatable raft.

Navigating the inlet in the dinghy

Fed and ready to go!

Explorers

In sync

The importance of this area as nursery habitat became evident immediately.   Schools of countless species of  fish darted for cover in the tangle of arching mangrove roots.  Predators abounded too; needle fish, barracuda, stingrays, and lemon sharks patrolled the waters under us, while many species of wading birds stalked the shallows.  Perhaps the most thrilling resident of this area were throngs of green sea turtles.  None of us had ever seen so many sea turtles in the wild and to have them darting about underneath our paddle boards was utterly amazing.  They were everywhere!  We couldn't beleive how fast they were.  Unfortunately, this made photographing them very difficult,  especially with a non-waterproof camera on a fairly unstable watercraft.  I opted to enjoy the experience rather than try to "capture" it.

Red mangroves arch their roots out of the water to acquire more oxygen

Another resident of the creek that I found particularly enthralling were queen conch.  They easily outnumbered the turtles 10 to 1.  Huge queen conch, with thick flared lips.  Legal conch.  Wouldn't you know,  I finally find a legal conch and it's in a protected area (amazing what happens when you conserve a resource, eh?).  They were everywhere, taunting me (I even had the ingredients for ceviche on the boat).  

After carting one particular individual around on my paddle board for a while to study, its little eyes gazing up at me,  I had to ask myself if I really could harvest any if they weren't  protected.  The first steps in preparing conch for the table are as follows:

1) Knock a small hole in the shell of the live conch between the second and third spire.

2) Stick a knife in the hole and sever the tendon that holds the conch in the shell.

3)  Hold the conch by the foot and cut off the proboscis and eye stalks.

4) Remove the...  Wait a minute...  cut off the eye stalks?!

I don't know about you but I think conch have adorable eyes.  Right up there with bunny rabbits.  I couldn't kill a bunny rabbit either.  

Could you?

Besides that, I'd been learning a lot about the status of the conch population here.  Not good.  There's a reason I haven't found any legal sized conch in my travels.  They are being over-harvested at an alarming rate.  The Bahamas needs every large reproductive conch it can get.

I winked back at Romeo and rolled him off my paddle board.  I watched him sink quickly into the blue and come to rest on a bed of turtle grass below.  I  told him to be fruitful and multiply.  Quickly!  I'll keep eating fish.

Cat Island

It was a full day sail from Half Moon Cay to Cat Island.  We arrived in time for Wren to fillet up the bar jack we caught on the way over for supper. 

Fish tostadas!

We also caught more barracuda than we care to remember.  Scott released each one very carefully.

These behemoth predators seem to be quite fond of our lucky "Whistler" lure.  Unfortunately, barracuda are not recommended eating as they are known to accumulate toxins in their flesh.  The primary concern here is ciguatera fish poisoning (CFP).  CFP is prevalent in fish that feed on toxic algae that colonize coral reefs (exactly the same mechanism as red tide and shellfish back home). It does not affect the fish in any way, just humans who eat the fish.  The larger the reef fish, or the higher the predator who eat the reef fish, the more potential toxin in the flesh.  We have a list of species to avoid.  Barracuda is at the top.  

Not lovin' that Whistler now!

The crazy thing is that the locals love barracuda and eat it all the time.  They seem to have some sort to natural immunity to the toxin.  Although, one Bahamian woman I spoke with wasn't so lucky and described the affects in vivid detail, "Ya jus sit wid one end on da toilet and da udda end in da sink".  She was also the owner of a small restaurant that featured barracuda on the menu.  Apparently, she was advised by her lawyer to at least post a sign before doing so.

Ummm, I'll have the salad, thank you.

Just as we were finishing up dinner, we saw what appeared to be an alien space ship approaching the anchorage.   It was Fata Morgana!  Evo liked a well lit boat. 

They'd left Half Moon Cay about an hour before us that morning and were just arriving, several hours later.  It's not that Kiawah is a faster boat.  It's just that they are purists.  They refuse to use the "d-sail".  The" iron genny".  The engine.  This is not only a moral decision, but a financial one as well.  Diesel fuel is expensive here.  An average of $6.50 a gallon.  They reserved their engines (they have two), for emergency use only.  After listening to our stories of fuel filter woes, Evo smiled at Scott and said in his thick Bulgarian accent, "Hey, man, it won't break if you don't use it".  We are in total admiration of their philosophy and are trying to use the engine less and less.  But, sometimes it's hard to wait for wind when you have a "return by" date looming on the horizon.

Captain and crew of Fata Morgana "dinghey" to shore

T/T Kiawah

Fresh fish for the restaurant

The Sunshine Restaurant

We loved exploring Cat Island.  We were craving an authentic Bahamas experience after being at Half Moon Cay eating burgers the past few days.  

I spy something... blue.

That house?

We visited the Hermitage on Mt. Alvernia built by English priest, architect, and builder John Cecil Hawes in 1939.  "Father Jerome", as he was known to locals, came to the Bahamas to rebuild  churches destroyed by hurricanes.  He must have been a very busy man.  He also must have been very small because the hermitage, his retirement home and final resting place, is tiny.  There was a work crew up there replacing part of the roof after what they described as a "mini tornado" did some damage.

Maya, Wren, and Riley pause for tea before the hike

Wren signs the guest book

The secret life of Hermit the Frog

That evening we were treated to some rake n' scrape music at the Sunshine Restaurant.   Cat Island is the birthplace of this form of roots music, which involves, vocals, a drum, an accordion, and a hand saw played with a screw driver. We'd heard about rake n' scrape music before.  In fact, we'd even googled one night back home during band practice.  We watched a Today Show broadcast on youtube of a trio which, as it turns out, was from Cat Island.  We recognized Pompey and Cedell from that broadcast as soon as they started to play.  Pompey's soulful voice filled the humid night air, to the scraping rhythm of Cedell's saw and the drum.  We sat and listened (and even joined in at one point), tapping our hands on cold bottles of Kalik, and our feet in the sand.  We soaked in every bit of the evening, feeling very lucky to have serendipitously stumbled into such a memorable experience.

Evo brought his machete to shore to open all the coconuts we'd collected

Wren's not-impressed-with-coconut-milk look

Rakin' and scrapin'

Pompey's set list

Scott joins in...

Then Mira... (really concentrating)

And finally Evo shows everyone how they do it in Bulgaria

Maya, showing the girls pictures of her travels

Later that night, Kiawah had her first sleep-over.  Maya and the girls had a bitter-sweet time hanging out together, knowing they'd be parting paths the next day.  Boat friendships are hard. We were headed to Conception Island, and they were planning to stay on Cat for a few more days.  We are all hopeful that their "life nomadik" will take them to Maine someday.

Breakfast chef Riley, whips up some pancakes

Spit is best played with a deck of Eastport cards

We said our goodbyes to Fata Morgana and Mira sent us off with a loaf of freshly baked bread (this bread was so delicious it inspired Scott to fix our oven).  As a tribute to them, we sailed off the anchor, and did not use the engine at all that day, even to drop anchor that evening.

Goodbye, FM!

Carnival

And so, my education in marine diesel mechanics continues.  When the engine died on the way to Little San Salvador island I would have bet money on the problem being with the #1 twin fuel filter.  We were in pretty rough seas sailing windward and getting tossed around quite a bit.  It made sense that any algal gunk left in the fuel tank after our "scrubbing" job may have become suspended and sucked into the filter, thus clogging it.  No problem, we'd just flip the lever to run the fuel through the #2 twin and be up and running again.  No such luck.  Meanwhile, we were getting pretty hammered, pounding into boat-stopping waves. We really needed the engine to help cut through the swells to maintain any kind of momentum.  To make matters worse, Wren was seasick.  Actually, we were all feeling quite green around the gills.  We sailed on without the diesel, tacking our way across Exuma Sound in 6 foot swells at an average speed of 3.8kn.  After a grueling 11 hour day, we finally arrived at our anchorage well after dark, and dropped anchor under sail.  The ocean swells continued, even on the hook.  Kiawah rocked, sometimes violently, side to side all night long. Setting a stern anchor to orient the boat perpendicular to the swells would have fixed the problem but the outboard for the dinghy was up on deck and lowering it in such swells in the dark was not an option.  We needed the dinghy to set the anchor out away from the boat.  Luckily, the girls were oblivious to the chaos and were sleeping soundly in the v-berth.  Scott and I, however, were awake pretty much the entire night, jumping up periodically to stow things that were rattling or keep pots and pans from crashing to the floor.  The morning offered little relief.    Our spirits were lifted by the view of a gorgeous crescent shaped beach, with shade trees and... what?  Were those hammocks and lounge chairs?!   Clearly we must have been hallucinating.  We couldn't wait to get our feet on solid ground and recover from a crazy 24 hours.  Maybe then we could think clearly and troubleshoot the engine problem.

Turns out, not all that long ago, Little San Salvador was purchased by the Holland America Cruise Line  Company and renamed Half Moon Cay.  After which, they proceeded to turn the remote island paradise into a "daytime delight" of activities for their guests (and also Carnival Cruise Line guests), complete with jet skis, parasail boats, banana rides,  jacuzzis, horseback rides, "swim with the rays" tank, and netted swim areas.  We read aloud from our cruiser's guide, "individuals from private yachts are welcome to anchor in Half Moon Cove but are asked not to come ashore until the cruise ship has departed".  Just then, as if on cue, a cruise ship lumbered into view on the horizon.  A huge, 2,000 passenger cruise ship.  We watched in disbelief as it got closer and closer and an army of ferry boats screamed out of the tiny inner harbor to transport guests to their tropical paradise for a day of fun.  Our hearts sank.  We watched the ship grow larger and larger and finally drop its Kiawah-sized anchor.   The ocean swells were only ripples on a pond to this giant.  However,  the smaller ferry boats were getting tossed around quite a bit and after several attempts trying to tie up to the mother ship they decided to abort the mission, deeming it unsafe for their customers to disembark. 

Now, we are not mean or evil people.  And we certainly would never want to intentionally deny anyone the pleasure of spending the day at beautiful Half Moon Cay, but the joyous cheers that erupted from Kiawah's foredeck at the moment the cruise ship pulled her anchor to leave could certainly could have been interpreted as such.

We had the island paradise all to ourselves! After spending the morning on the beach, recuperating, we returned to Kiawah to work on the engine.  After checking the filters for clogs using the process of elimination (and lots of paper towels) it became clear that the problem stemmed from air being trapped in the fuel line.  Of course!  When the engine kicked out we were heeled up quite high to port with only a half tank of diesel.  The fuel intake is on the starboard side.  You know what they say about hindsight.  Scott bled the line and the engine started right up. 

We headed back to the beach and spent the afternoon hanging out with a great family from a boat named Fata Morgana.  Mira and Evo were live aboard cruisers who had a 10 year old girl, Maya, and a 16 year old boy, Vicktor.  Of course the girls hit it off instantly.  This family had quite an interesting story.  After selling their home in Canada, they purchased and outfitted a modest sized catamaran.  The Bulgarian born couple had no prior sailing experience.  They'd spent the last 6 months cruising Central America and Cuba and had more stories than most people accrue in a lifetime.  I can't possibly begin to do their story justice here.  Their blog is well worth a read (and our family makes an appearance in the post entitled "burger paradise: part two".  Check it  out at: TheLifeNomadik.com.  We are looking forward to following their travels.

As luck would have it, Fata Morgana had spent several days at the Half Moon anchorage and had befriended several of the local Bahamians that worked on the island.  They knew the ropes.  They informed us that the island staff welcomed cruisers ashore, even when the ship was in, to use the beach and even partake in the afternoon buffet!  We were happy to oblige.  We spent three days on the island, hanging out with our new fascinating friends, and eating buffet every day at noon.  

Maya and Evo join us for buffet

Before

After

Wild chickens enjoying the freshly raked beach

Scott contemplates selling Kiawah and returning to Maine on a cruise ship

Kiawah and Carnival

Scott and Evo went fishing with one of the island workers one afternoon and came back with a veritable smorgasbord of marine edibles.  We gathered on Fata that evening for a feast of lobster and fish. 

   

After three days at Half Moon Cay, feasting and relaxing, we decided to take advantage of a good weather window to move south to Cat Island.  We were excited when Fata Morgana decided to join us in this adventure.

By the way, we all agreed.  Carnival Cruise Lines has much better food than Holland America.