Little Harbour to Tilloo Cay

--Blogpost written by Bob

Thursday, February 8

When we woke up we noticed that a sailboat was hard aground on the inside of the harbor facing outbound. It had all its sails up in an effort to heel the boat over and possibly get free, but the sails were actually holding the boat aground.  

While breakfast was in the oven I motored our dinghy over to offer assistance. It was 8 AM and the tide was still going out. I tried pulling his bow around and then to push it around, both efforts to no avail.  The next step was to take all the sails down. By that time, two other inflatable dinghies had joined the effort. All three dinghies pushing on the bow, could not budge it. We, then, took a halyard out perpendicularly away from the boat and one dinghy pulled the boat over while the other two pushed—still no progress.  

Three inflatable dinghies were used to try and free the
grounded sailboat but it wouldn't budge.
I am in our dinghy on the far
right of this image.

As a last ditch effort, we took an anchor well out into the harbor and dropped it so that at least the sailboat's position could be maintained and then pulled off using a winch as the tide comes in.  All three inflatable dinghies returned to their respective boats in defeat. 

The couple on the grounded boat seemed to be about 80 years old but nimble for their age. Apparently, they departed from a mooring buoy very early (4:30 AM) to catch high tide out of the harbor but miscalculated where the channel started (because there probably wasn’t enough daylight at that time).  The boat's draft was 5-1/2 feet.

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I just finished reading George Orwell's Animal Farm and there is a description of a cat that is nearly perfect: “It was soon noticed that when there was work to be done the cat could never be found. She would vanish for hours on end, and then reappear at meal-times, or in the evening after work was over, as though nothing had happened. But she always made such excellent excuses, and purred so affectionately, that it was impossible not to believe in her good intentions.”   However, I have to give Lizzie some credit, most times while we are underway, she is out in the cockpit with us, keeping us out of trouble.

Lizzie was in the v-berth at 10 AM.  I had to 
wake her up for her photo shoot.

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We departed Little Harbour after having lunch (again) at Pete's Pub.  It was precisely 1:53 PM, so that it was 45 minutes before high tide (2:38 PM).  Our depth sounder's alarm (set at six feet) was going off the entire way through the channel but we never touched bottom. 

As we motored away from Little Harbour we experienced a lot of big rollers coming in off the ocean. It had us rocking and rolling. It is hard to believe how waves can toss around a 16,000 pound boat. As we got close to Lynyard Cay, there were a lot of boats (maybe ten or a dozen) anchored nearer the south end of the island. We proceeded toward the middle of the island where the anchorage seemed a little better protected and, certainly, less crowded.

The water was gin clear, as Maggie snorkeled out to check our anchor.

A little bit later we took the dinghy into the beach to the north of us. There were “no trespassing” signs on the beach despite the fact there wasn’t a soul in sight. I was tempted to tear the obnoxious orange signs down. I think the beaches in the Bahamas are considered public property—if not, they should be. The owner could have used signs that said "Welcome to Lynyard Cay beaches.  Please respect our pristine environment."

We could hear the surf pounding the ocean-side of the Lynyard Cay but in our anchorage there was just a tiny ripple on the water’s surface. There is a sailboat anchored about 1/4 mile to our north and another one the same distance to our south.

This is perhaps the best home of the four on Lanyard Cay.
There are no trespassing signs on the nearest beach.

After snorkeling, Maggie takes a nice
warm sun shower in the cockpit.

A large group of boats anchored about 
1/2 mile south of us on Lanyard Cay.

Dusk from Lanyard Cay.  Great Abaco
Island is in the background.

Friday, February 9

This morning brought stronger wind, 12 to 15 knots out of the east northeast. The sun shone brightly with barely a cloud in the sky.  We found out that the large group of boats anchored to our south was a Marsh Harbor Yacht Club outing. (They had an announcement on the VHF radio about having yoga on the beach at a certain time.)

We couldn’t get the Cruiser’s Net this morning except for Gordy’s weather report out of Little Harbor (a location which we can easily see from our anchorage)—this is one reason why I have to replace the masthead antenna (to get more range).

We are anchored where the anchor symbol
is shown in the center of this image.

About 10:30 AM I got the urge to make something very different for lunch today. I had to work with the ingredients we currently had on the boat.  After a brief look over what we had on hand and a search online for recipe ideas, I decided to make curried zucchini soup.  I am not that good at following recipes but this time the only thing I did differently was adding some dried parsley flakes.

My curried zucchini soup didn't look as pretty as the
photograph that accompanied the recipe
but it tasted great!

I was motivated to do something, in this case cooking, by a book I am currently reading, Who Ordered This Truckload of Dung? by Ajahn Brahm. (The book is written by a Buddhist monk living in Australia and it is a collection of stories he uses in his teachings.)  I decided to cook something for the pure enjoyment of the activity. 

We explored the entire length of Lynyard Cay by dinghy in the afternoon. There were a couple nice beaches on the Sea of Abaco side of the island. We saw a turtle while on our dinghy excursion. When we got back to the boat we decided to pull up our anchor and head to Tilloo Cay (which is just south of Elbow Cay where Hope Town is located). 

We came past the North Bar Channel and there were a lot of big rolling waves coming off the ocean, some 6 or 8 feet high and they were a beautiful turquoise color.

On our way to Tilloo Cay, we were on a collision course with another sailboat (also under power).  He was approaching our port side. He was on autopilot (and so was I for that matter) and when we were about 1/4 mile away, he went below and the helm was unmanned for quite a distance (certainly until after a collision would have occurred).  Even though I clearly had the right of way in this situation, I had to slow to a crawl to avoid a collision. I don’t think he even saw us.

It took about two hours to get to today’s destination. Once anchored we realized we were very close to an underwater electrical cable (we could see it under the boat)—so, we moved about 1/8 mile toward the north. (The underwater electrical cable is shown on our electronic charts but the position is not accurate.  In fact, there is an anchor symbol in the exact position of the underwater electrical cable.)  We were anchored for the night at 4 PM. This is the first time we have ever been to Tilloo Cay.

We are anchored off a small settlement of what looks like second homes. The only lights that go on after dark are outdoor solar lights.

A few of the homes that are visible on Tilloo Cay.

As we ate dinner (grilled chicken breasts and grilled carrots) the sun was setting. I had a sincere feeling of inner peace in this exact place, Tilloo Cay—the same type of feelings I’ve had in Bermuda both times I’ve visited the island. I’m anxious to explore Tilloo Cay tomorrow!

The sunset was absolutely beautiful tonight.

Saturday, February 10

A rain shower came through very early this morning (maybe 3 AM) and lasted just long enough for us to get all our hatches closed.  The night was cool and we needed a light blanket for warmth. 

When cruising, Saturday is just like any other day of the week.

The sun was shining brightly when we woke up for the day. The wind was blowing 13 knots out of the southeast but we were in the lee of Tilloo Cay. In a southeast direction, the shore is about 1/2 mile away and there is just enough fetch for the wind to have an influence on the water’s surface. The waves in our anchorage area were only about 6 inches high but the period was very short, making them somewhat choppy. The entire width of the southern Sea of Abaco is behind us—we could never be anchored in this spot during a strong westerly wind.

Directly in front of us is an unusual building with no windows and a peaked roof.  It almost looks like a monastery (white with brown trim) and it has a basin carved out of the limestone cliff, like for docking a boat. 

The building I call a monastery on Tilloo Cay.

Just to the south of the “monastery”, there is also what looks like a newly built home with a labyrinth of concrete walls on the water side of the house—it has a large “for sale” sign on it’s boat pier. (My imagination could conjure up all kinds of reasons for the concrete walls, like protecting a deposed dictator from some banana republic against an invasion to capture him to face justice in his homeland or a CIA safe house.)

We were close enough to Abaco’s civilization to get the Cruiser’s Net this morning—this is the first time we could listen to it in several days.

We took the dinghy in to explore the settlement on the south end of Lubbers Quarters Cay but the wind was too strong--we got soaking wet.  

A large wooden schooner was anchored between Tilloo
Cay and Lubbers Quarters Cay this morning.

After an unsuccessful exploration, we returned to the boat and took off for Marsh Harbour.  More from Marsh Harbour in our next blogpost...

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