Another stint in the ‘space between the towers’, as it sometimes feels defined by us. The Land & Sea Park is a lot of things, but connected is not one of them, so we take the wonderful parts of the time there and fringe them with mild panic about not being able to respond to the random ‘important’ text or email that somehow slipped in while we were sleeping. Learning to understand what’s actually important is a necessary coping mechanism, but after eight years, we’re still not that great at it. We sit again off of Shroud Cay with what should be decent service, but only in the hours when the many other boaters anchored nearby are asleep. Thankfully I’m a sunrise-loving user.
The weather patterns this year have been so different from any other we’ve experienced. None of the frontal passages that clobber the Abacos on a regular basis have stretched their way down, and we have had amazingly settled conditions for weeks. Glassy water everywhere (not great for sailing, to be sure), and most excitingly the ability to get into anchorages we’d only previously coveted. For our first night in the park, we went to an old standby that we love, and hit up Cambridge Cay after a three year hiatus. To satisfy V’s snorkeling fix, we found a cove on the chart that we’d never been able to get to (due to wind direction and heft), and it was a complete win. Tons of elkhorn coral, all the brains (grooved, smooth and knobby, and also I’ve always wanted to be able to say that), frizzy staghorn coral, and all within a nice swim to yet another award-winning beach. And once again, we were the only visitors. As always, a lovely theme for us here.
After Cambridge we stopped for a quick snorkel at the Sea Aquarium before heading into an anchorage off of Warderick Wells that we’d only ever hiked and dinghied to previously. The Pirate’s Lair was more than magical. Completely protected from every direction (not that we needed it with only a whisper of wind), our 360 degree view included four beaches, the hiking trails of Warderick, the bluffs of Hog Cay, a sea tunnel between the lair and the ocean on Hog that made for an amazing crashing pop at certain tides, all over a white sand bottom, speckled with a few stromatolites in one corner for good exploratory measure. We stayed for two nights, and if the responsibilities of work, school, life in general didn’t weigh on us to get us moving, we’d probably be there still.
To add to its charm, popping out one of the narrow openings to the east, we could dinghy in and around a smattering of little deserted islands, one of which we fell in love with, and parked ourselves on two days in a row. Since we feel like we could be in the business of rating beaches for various activities at this point, this was a clear 10/10 for its perfect sand (not too big, not too confectioner’s sugar small (too hard to clear from a bathing suit once back on board!), the right drop, the view, and the intrigue of where the treasure must be buried. (Our time in the Pirate’s Lair had us harkening back to the 18th century, and anytime we’d see a mast sail by or a cruiser from another anchorage dinghy in to check things out, we’d joke that we needed to man the cannons. But really we just kept thinking about where the booty was.)
We met up with friends yesterday back here at Shroud and did the usual run through the mangroves, only to find an astonishing fifty people already there on the ocean beach. After such solitude it feel like a carnival, but we jumped into the great circular current of the deep cut of the mangrove as it meets the sea, and floated in the eddy for an hour with great people-watching as our secondary entertainment. We also learned a new lawn/beach game called spike ball, which we played with some yacht crew waiting for their guests to show up to their spread of beach chairs, umbrellas, coolers of food and drink and the array of water sport options they had laid out. (As an aside, the boat was called Emina, which apart from being a very unfortunate name to have to focus on saying every time, also led to me explaining to Violet what an enima was, so she’d understand our childish chuckles about it. Who’s saying she’s not learning things outside of school?!)
We now plan our next ‘jumps’ to the north, which is so pleasant to do with this weather and its many presented options. No ‘racing to the barn’ between fronts this year, so we can check as many things off of our wish list as we want. My list: to read, to write, to eat, to float, to not be shoveling snow. I’m doing pretty well so far, and I think any route we take can check those boxes!
