Hatchet Bay Day

I’ve just hoisted myself up onto the old wooden dock, dinghy rope in hand. No ladder in sight. Had to make due. Not very elegant, one foot dangling just above the inflatable pontoon, the other knee splayed far above, hands groping for anything solid… but I managed to get up and ‘look ma, no splinters’! JW has just killed the dinghy engine and is offering up empty bottles of vodka and whisky and a little plastic bag of garbage.

We’ve arrived in Alice Town apparently, headed to shore via the bright blue and white buildings where ‘Boat Haven’ is painted boldly. Seems like a good place to start the adventure.

 

We’re barely off the dock and stood in front of a huge faded hand painted mural of the island, when Rinaldo appears, smiling from ear to ear.

“Is dis ya first time in Hatchet Bay?” Stocky and dark, his glistening gold chain and framed huge Bahamian coin pendant commanding all the attention. A cocky rooster bolts by in the yard behind him, commanding his harem.

We explained that it was, that we’d had no plans to be here but that this morning was quite a rough sail and we’d seen this protected bay on the charts and turned in for shelter.

 

The truth was, that this morning had been a wild ride from hell and there was no way we were going to make it to our intended destination only 10 miles further down Eleuthera’s coast.

We awoke hours earlier in front of a palm tree lined white sand beach, relative calm and sunshine said good morning, despite the side roll of little waves that had the sliding door doing it’s annoying ‘thump thump’ and the crew bumping hips into bannisters and chairs…

 

Wonderful morning to keep heading south! Southeast actually. Though the forecast warned us that just around Mutton Point Rock up there, the seas might have different ideas. The wind was actually swinging a bit southeast, which would mean no protection here in the supposed ‘lee’ of Eleuthera. And with the 17 knot winds, that could make for a potentially ugly ‘beat’ directly into wind and waves.

But there were fresh vegetables at a local farmer’s market we’d heard of, just 16 miles down, in a place called James Cistern. How bad could it be?! What’s 16 miles when fresh veggies beckon??? Well…

An hour later we had made it 3 miles. Things had fallen here and there in the boat. We were both at the helm, holding anything to secure ourselves. Sea spray slammed the entire boat and our shocked faces, eyes wide, mouths spluttering, as each four to five foot wave buried Shiloh’s bow, and jolted the whole lot of us back up, then immediately down into the next wave. The wind howled into us, adding to the assault, at 15 to 20 knots. It was unrelenting. I zoomed out on the chart plotter, looking for anything, any place, any way we could escape this. I could barely look at the screen and my finger was bounced off it over and over as I tried.

And there it was. Only 3 miles further. Hatchet Bay. A tiny narrow entrance, hacked out of the rocky shoreline, that opened up into a big calm bay. Hallelujah! We just had to endure another hour or so of this sheer hell, and then traverse the tricky little entrance with huge waves and big winds to complicate the maneuver.

Alleycat was ahead and turned the corner into the cut. But they literally disappeared into a sheer rock face. Adrenaline pumping and prayers to all sorts of gods, I finally saw the cut. Between waves that is. And there was a fisherman in a tiny boat in the middle. No!!!!! But I had to do the 90 degree turn and pull Shiloh sideways to those waves, and gun it. As we turned, one huge wave lifted and tried with all it’s might to dump us into the massive rock at the entrance. I held that helm like it was a life and death mission and pulled her away. The tiny fisherman just stared. And within one minute all the waves, the wind, the chaos were behind us. We were in a huge flat, calm bay. I wanted to kiss it. The water, the land that surrounded it and made all this possible. Alleycat was anchoring over in a corner. As we pulled up I was still shaking. I knew I was alive! Heart racing, ever grateful and somehow a part of me wanted to do that again. But I settled for a cup of tea and some research about the town we were now going to explore…

And so, just like that, there were to be no fresh veggies, but instead we had Rinaldo, eyes shining and enthusiasm oozing from every pore.

“You can dump de trash right here!”

“Dis is the boat haven. Have you heard of us? We have everyting. A shop here, restaurant and bar. Tonight we have karaoke. So if y’all up for it, come and join us!”

Our self led walking tour of town revealed a lot of old boarded up houses, trees growing up inside instead of out. A few friendly faces and a little grocery. There were two boutiques selling elegant church wear, and three little liquor stores. Three little bars. A catch all government building painted pink. A few kids kicking up dust as the sun beat down on all of us. We stopped at Da Spott for a beer. One of the online reviews of Alice Town had mentioned this place as THE social hub. Well, we met an 80 lb greying rasta man who mumbled a bit to himself and the bar maid who dozed before and after getting our drinks. Oprah’s voice droned from the TV mounted above. And that was it. We happily guzzled the cool liquid and moved on.

 

Spent a peaceful night out in the bay, with big plans for today. Laundry at Rinaldo’s Haven, a couple groceries at the bright green store. And supper with karaoke for entertainment tonight. Couldn’t pass that up! (We did see the bar with karaoke machine. The size of a shipping container, one table for customers, one table with a home karaoke machine and speaker mounted proudly. A tiny bar. Can’t wait!)

We might be here for the whole weekend. A forecasted storm that boaters like to call ‘a big blow’ should arrive tomorrow night and last a day or more. Fresh veggies and all the other adventures will have to wait. Our plans are not our own out here. Mother Nature reminds us who’s boss from time to time. But we wanted to meet some friends further south! We wanted to have reached a certain place by a certain date! Ha!

That’s why we go with the flow. In this case we take the town with the bay. The other rickety docks will still be there. New veggies will be harvested. And we will be here at the boater’s haven. Singing our hearts out on Rinaldo’s little machine.