Exumas, Bahamas 360 Islands Spread over 120 Miles May 22-24, 2006

Sailboat | Voyages | Log

Glass Cay, Dotham, and Big Rock Cuts Groceries delivered to dock Exuma Market, George Town Loading up the dinghy Phil and Barb aboard Ceres Treating Mike and I to a second Mahi-Mahi dinner Another day of rain Delaying our entry into Glass Cay Cut for an hour Daily afternoon bath Off the back of the boat Clayton Rolle Hilltop Bar and Restaurant, Rolleville Note the lizard above the window Tidal Current coming out of Big Rock Cut Staniel Cay It’s Monday. We are up early and heading into George Town to do errands so we can get moving again. The first order of business is to attempt to retrieve my credit card which I left at the Two Turtles Bar on Saturday night. I attempted to get it on Sunday, but they were closed. We got there about 0800, but the Two Turtles were still asleep, in fact, everything in George Town was still asleep except for a small bakery and breakfast place. I calmed my anxiety with a cup of coffee, the first in days. When we returned to the Two Turtles, I was greeted by the waiter with a big grin, “I’ll bet you are looking for this,” he says, as he held up my credit card. What a relief. Now off to customs to make ourselves legal. Except for the $300 cruising fee, which we had to produce in cash, that went smoothly. Two-for-two, we were on a roll. Next we were off to the Internet cafe, where I finally uploaded the last eight days of our trip. Now for shopping, we bought another Explorer chart, a fishing lure for Dorado, a Bahamas courtesy flag, groceries, and ice. We were back on Full Circle by noon and heading north through Conch Cut by 1300. Our goal was to put fifteen or twenty miles behind us before dark. We settled on Glass Cay Cut and anchored behind Black Cay. As it turns out negotiating the Exuma cuts is one of the most challenging aspects of sailing here. The Exuma Bank on the west side of the Exumas is shallow at 10 to 20 feet, while the Exuma Sound on the east side of the Exumas is deep at a 1000+ feet. Four times a day, during the changes from high and low tide, the water runs between these cuts like a river. The flow rate can easily exceed five knots. When you are in a boat that can only do six knots under motor, it is easy to get in serious trouble if you are going against the tidal current. It gets even more ugly when the wind opposes the current creating high steep waves. The cuts are narrow, often only a few hundred feet wide and peppered with rocks, reefs, and coral heads. When coming into Glass Cay Cut on Monday afternoon, it was raining so hard we couldn’t see any land formations and had to use the GPS to motor back and forth in front of the cut until the rain stopped enough so we could see our way through. Once in, we were greeted by a beautiful secluded anchorage all to our selves. By the time we had finished anchoring, the sun was out , and all was well with the world once again. We went exploring in the dinghy, did some snorkeling, and took our daily bath. As a bonus, we were only a mile from a remote Bahamian village called Rolleville. Now this is interesting. Fully half of the residents of Exuma go by the name Rolle. Denys Rolle was a major land and slave owner in the 18th century, and when freed, the slaves took the name of their master. Feeling bold, Mike and I decide to venture in. The village consists of three churches, two bars, a small school, and maybe fifty one room houses. One old woman with no teeth came out asking for money to buy a soda. We give her a dollar and are now golden in her eyes. We head for the Hilltop Bar and Restaurant. We are more than a little nervous. Our whiteness stands out like a drop of chocolate in a glass of milk. Except we aren’t the chocolate. A crowd of black teenagers linger outside the bar. Inside it is empty except for an old black man sitting in a dark corner behind the bar. “Are you open mon?” “Of course, come in” “Have you got cold beer?” The good thing about beer in marginal places, is that it is always safe to drink. “What kind you want mon?” “We want Bahamian beer, we want Kalik. You got that?” “Let me take a look.” Astonishing enough he had cold beer. Astonishing because, there were no lights on. It wasn’t clear that there was working electricity in the place. It was dark; it was barren; it was hard core. But sure enough, he had cold beer. We sat down and soon found ourselves in a most interesting conversation. Our bar tender, Clayton Rolle, owned the Hilltop Bar with his brother Kermit Rolle. It had been in his family since forever, like all old Bahamian property passed on from generation to generation. From the stories Clayton told, we pieced together his age at about 75 years. As a boy of 15, he was a laborer on farms in Minnesota during the late forties and early fifties. The work was organized by the Bahamian government and US government. Large groups of Bahamians were flown to Minneapolis and then bused to farms where they harvested peas and corn. Clayton had nothing but good things to say about his experience in Minnesota. “Those folks was real good to us, you know. They dun feed us four times a day. I do say mon, those folks shore do wok. Da dad, da mom, even da young-uns, they all wok hard.” It was getting dark outside and so dark inside we could only see a silhouette of Clayton against the window. Clayton reached up and whacked a florescent tube, which sprung to life at his command. The garish pinkish purple walls attacked our eyes like a lightning bolt. A lizard perched above the window was zapping bugs at will. Clayton slapped his hands together to simulate the speed at which the lizard’s tongue did its work. As the night wore on, Clayton revealed that he had fathered thirteen children. When asked if they were from the same wife, he replied, “No mon, I never been married.” I had to ask with how many women he had children. He sheepishly smiled with his gold front teeth shinning in the light and raised four fingers. He seemed more than a little embarrassed by his prolific progeny. He wasn’t sure of their ages or even where all of them lived. We were way off the beaten track in Rolleville. It was time to go. No other customers every came into the bar. Finding Full Circle in the black of the night was easy. In a sea of blackness, there was one lone anchor light. The next morning we headed for Staniel Cay, forty five miles to the north. We sailed up Exuma Sound, the deep ocean side, and entered Exuma Banks via Dotham Cut. The chart reported that we could experience strong current, which certainly was the case. Fortunately for us the current was flooding, flowing onto the bank and into the cut. As we entered the cut, the boat speed accelerated to ten knots. The current was at least four knots. It was just lucky that the current was with us and not against us. We could have gotten in real trouble if it had been going in the other direction. It became clear that we needed to pay closer attention to the safe times to pass through the cuts so that the current would be in our favor. We managed to arrive at Staniel Cay just as the rain started, about 1500. It didn't let up until nearly 1730 so we did very little exploring. We did investigate Big Rock Cut which we would be exiting the next morning, and took the included photo of the strong current. Clearly we wanted to get this correct for the next morning. We then headed for the Staniel Cay Yacht Club, not really a club but the name of a restaurant and bar. We had our usual three Kaliks and a hamburger. We were back on Full Circle by 2130. Previous | Next