Once adequately rested from our crossing, we studied our charts and closely monitored weather forecasts to figure out a plan to make it to Nassau as close to December 26 as possible. There the plan was to meet up with a long-time friend of James who would be there until January 1. The weather hadn’t been in our favor - a brisk 18-knot wind out of the ESE - precisely the direction we would need to head. We had a week. We could do it in two days if we wanted to tough out two more all-day crossings, but decided to take our time and sail under fairer winds. We decided to stay anchored in our own private abandoned marina for the first two nights of our time on Grand Bahama, then to poke our way west along the Cay until the weather shifted a bit. Since we had time to explore we set out in the dinghy to find a place to tie up and hop ashore.
One Way / Stop
The best we could find was at the trunk of a small pine jutting out along the shore on one of the many channels of the failed marina. We walked for miles along paved streets and beautiful brick sidewalks that sported nothing more than occasional street signs, fire hydrants, and posts for street lamps - the infrastructure all in place but no buildings except for two large houses that were never completed. It was hard to tell if they were occupied but hard to imagine that they were entirely vacant. We stopped to identify and photograph the plant life that had been overtaking the development - Beach Morning Glories, Beach Naupaka, Beach Sheik, and Brazilian Peppers. The view from these street was spectacular. We could easily see why investors would have chosen this location. Research revealed very little information as to why this plan had failed after it was so very far along in the 1980s but we were happy to be able to enjoy its paths and waterways now.
One of two unfinished houses in a would-be luxury development.
One branch of the marina system that had been dug out and finished with stone and concrete was traversed by a couple of small bridges. Here we discovered a partially sunken boat and a man fishing using only a line and bait. He had ridden to the spot on his bicycle with milk carton basket and greeted us with a broad smile and a wave as we approached. James slowed the boat to a crawl so as not to disturb any nibbles the man may have been getting and we turned around and headed back toward Bagatelle.
Sunken and abandoned.
Since leaving Florida, James had wanted to find a dock or other large, smooth surface to lay out the mainsail cover and mark it up for some adaptations - converting it into a sail bag that would allow us to lower the main directly into its open arms, so to speak. The empty, paved streets of the development were perfect for this task, so we went back to the boat and retrieved the cover, measuring tape, and markers, loaded them into the dinghy and headed back to our little tie-up spot. Having the expanse of a paved road made it easy. We measured and marked the cover as well as some sun-screening James had purchased to shield the cockpit from the Bahamian sun - something we had seen very little of since my arrival ten days earlier. We finished up, loaded it all back in the dinghy and made our way back to Bagatelle.
Boat Improvement Project (BIP)
By then the sun was low in the sky, the air was cool, and we were hungry. I made a pot of chili to fend off the cold while James secured the dinghy for the night. We gobbled up our dinner while discussing the plan for the next day - to hop along the south coast of Grand Bahama to the another abandoned project which showed decent anchorage. After dinner we played a few games of Cribbage (more about this later) before settling in for our first Bahamian night together - the true beginning of our adventure.
Abandoned view.