Snakes, Sharks, & Sailing

Mar 29

January 2024 marked the beginning of our adventures. After saying goodbye to family, we left St. Augustine and headed south to New Smyrna, where we hunkered down for several days to wait out a significant wind event. We ventured ashore a few times to explore the small coastal town and enjoy a meal off the boat, but what we loved most about New Smyrna was the dolphin activity. There is nothing quite like being below deck, busy with work or chores, and hearing the familiar exhale of a dolphin's blow.

One evening, we sat on the bow watching the sunset when we noticed the water stirring just ahead of us. Suddenly, fish began flying through the air. We grabbed our binoculars—that's when we realized dolphins were flinging fish back and forth, right to left, left to right, for well over thirty minutes. It was a rousing game, for the dolphins at least, and we thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

Another unforgettable moment came one night while we slept. I have always been fastidious about locking doors, so sleeping aboard a boat with hatches and windows open was, at first, a little unnerving. Having heard stories of thieves boarding boats in the night, I noticed every little sound. On this particular night, I heard a suspicious thump. I lay still, listening. Then I heard it again, and I knew without a doubt that someone or something was on our boat.

Above our bed is a hatch that lets in light and airflow. I lay there staring up at it, listening, and then I saw movement—shadows shifting. I sat up just beneath the hatch, and there, right above my head, was the giant talon of a bird of prey. Relieved it wasn't an intruder, I sat in quiet awe, gazing up at the underside of the bird perched overhead.

After several minutes, I noticed something dangling from its beak. In the dark, it looked like one of our lines, but then I realized it was a snake. The bird was swallowing its breakfast tail-first, the head and a few inches of body still hanging from its beak as if looking at me, begging for help.

I could not believe my eyes. Then, all at once, there was a clatter, a thud, a flurry of commotion, and off the bird flew. I shot out of bed screaming, "Oh hell no—no snake is getting on my boat!"

Ken, roused from a deep sleep, mumbled, "Are you sure you weren't dreaming? Or am I dreaming now that we're searching for a snake at midnight?"

Flashlights in hand, we spent the next ten minutes combing the deck to make sure our visitor hadn't left its half-eaten dinner behind. Once we called the all-clear, we pieced together what had likely happened: the bird's talon had knocked a lighter off the boat—startling itself in the process—and the sudden clatter had spooked me into thinking the snake was dropped as it fled. And that is how we ended up searching for a snake at midnight.

From New Smyrna, we journeyed to Ft. Pierce, our first glimpse of the bluer waters we'd been anticipating. Some of our Dock 7 boat family were already there, with two more boats arriving over the next week or so—all of us making our first journey to the Bahamas.

We loved Ft. Pierce. It's where I discovered my love of local farmers' markets. Ken bought fish dip and a spicy dipping sauce while I loaded us up with a Middle Eastern feast: olives, fresh hummus, baba ghanouj, pita bread, and labneh. It's also where Ken's East Coast Great Ice Cream experiment began. His test isn't the most scientific—not every shop carries peanut butter and chocolate—but Cream Republic in Ft. Pierce ranks firmly in his top ten.

Anchored in downtown West Palm Beach, Florida

After three weeks, it was time to move on to West Palm Beach, where we would wait for a weather window to cross to the Bahamas. We were among a fleet of four Brunswick Landing Dock 7 boats anchored within a half-mile of one another, right in the heart of downtown.

West Palm Beach is very walkable, with easy access to groceries, shops, restaurants, and laundry, which is just a short Uber or bus ride away. We had a great time exploring the city and checking out restaurants.

The farmers' market in West Palm was the best we found by far—and we aren't alone in that opinion. The West Palm Beach GreenMarket has been ranked among the top farmers' markets in the country by USA Today for five consecutive years. With over 150 vendors, there was plenty to love: Polish sausages and pierogies, the best frozen cookie dough from Gringuita Cookies, excellent Cuban coffee, and so much more.

West Palm was full of good stuff: time with good friends, celebrating mutual birthdays, ten people crammed cozily into our boat for the Super Bowl, and snorkeling off Peanut Island. We spent about a month there in total, between Ken flying back to work and waiting for a good weather window to cross to the Bahamas.

When the window finally came, we opted for one that meant mostly motoring rather than sailing—we'd waited long enough and wanted to maximize our time before it got too hot. We crossed the Gulf Stream overnight and arrived in Lucaya around lunchtime. I felt a mix of accomplishment, joy, and relief as we navigated our way into Lucaya. For someone who is risk-averse and not adventurous, this was a huge milestone!

After clearing Immigration and Customs, we docked for a couple of days to reset and provision before an overnight sail down to the Berry Islands. The Berry Islands are secluded and beautiful. We didn't waste any time—our first adventure was snorkeling a sunken barge, where our friend LJ gave me what would prove to be a very valuable lesson about what to do if I ever saw a shark. The east side of the islands offered crystal clear blue water as far as the eye could see. Our six-and-a-half-foot keel makes navigating the shallower waters of the Bahamas tricky, but doable. For one particularly stunning anchorage, we followed Addison Chan's waypoints and made it in with barely an inch under the keel—the view was well worth every anxious moment.

The days in the Berrys were chock-full of adventure: our first bull shark sighting, catching our own dinner while spearfishing, and eating at Flo's Conch Shack. We also made new friends after a lost bag and a minor scooter mishap brought us together—one of those coincidences that turns strangers into lifelong friends. But we still had a lot of ground to cover, so we pulled up anchor for Eleuthera.

Eleuthera was just as beautiful, but more populated, and we were able to restock on fresh vegetables and other supplies. We explored Preachers Cave, Cathedral Cave, and a blue hole. We also spent a few days in Rock Sound, riding out a strong weather event with gusts up to 60 knots and whiteout rain.

When the weather cleared, we moved on to the Exumas—some of my favorite islands for their reefs, crystal clear water, and beautiful anchorages. Allen's Cay was our first stop, offering a good reef we could snorkel right off the back of the boat and a beach populated by Rock Iguanas—a rare, endangered species with striking reddish or pinkish skin. Seeing these prehistoric-looking creatures lazing on rocks, racing across the sand, and giving us the side-eye was quite an experience.

Norman's Cay came next, famously the headquarters of a drug smuggling operation in the 1970s and '80s. Aside from another strong weather event, we enjoyed exploring the area and snorkeling an old plane wreck—a first for me.

The highlight of the entire Bahamas trip, however, was the Bahamas Land and Sea Park (O'Brien's, Shroud, and Cambridge Cays). With 112,640 acres of protected land and sea, the snorkeling was incredible. At The Aquarium, crystal clear water and hundreds of sergeant major fish surround you. I chased stingrays, turtles, and the occasional nurse shark. At Larry's Reef, I encountered the largest sea turtle I have ever seen—so big he swam straight at me and made me move out of his way. Larry's also had large lobsters, more nurse sharks, and an abundance of colorful fish. Some of my favorites are the Queen Triggerfish and Scrawled Filefish—beautifully patterned creatures. I am constantly amazed by the beauty lurking just beneath the surface.

Nurse shark in the beautiful crystal blue Bahamian waters

Eventually, we needed to do laundry and reprovision, so we headed to Black Point, where we picked up a loaf of Miss Lorraine's famous coconut bread—worth every bite. One day, after exploring a blue hole, we stopped at Lorraine's Café for dinner. When it came time to pay, Ken realized he'd lost his wallet. While I stayed at the café, he retraced his steps to the blue hole and, thankfully, found it lying on the ground right where we'd been.

From Black Point, we moved on to Georgetown, the largest settlement in the Exumas, with a lively cruising community. We hiked Monument Hill and the Art Trail, and hung out at Chat n' Chill with other sailors. Ken also had to fly back for work while we were there. I stayed behind with the boat, but good friends from Dock 7 were anchored nearby, which made the time fly.

While we were there, we also attended the beautiful St. Andrews Anglican Church each Sunday. Every Sunday morning, we sat among locals, people of other nationalities, sailors, and people from every socioeconomic background, and yet we all shared the common bond of Christ, coming to the same table and taking communion together. It was a sweet experience.

Inside St. Andrews Anglican Church in Georgetown, Exumas

Ken's dad then flew in to join us for two weeks. After a quick tour, laundry, and provisioning, we pointed the bow north to begin making our way back toward the States, with several stops planned so Ken's dad could snorkel the Bahamian waters and explore the islands.

One stop was Lee Stocking Island, where we spent half a day spearfishing and snorkeling. Turtles were everywhere, so I was in heaven. I had been snorkeling on my own for well over an hour when I glanced up and saw Ken and his dad getting into the dinghy. I knew it was time to go—but I was so thoroughly engrossed in the underwater world that I meandered toward them slowly and begrudgingly.

When I was about twenty feet from the dinghy, I glanced left and saw a large bull shark about ten feet away. My heart stopped. I lifted my head and said, "Shark, shark, shark." Since we'd mainly encountered nurse sharks, Ken asked if that's what it was. When I told him no, he promptly decided to get back in the water to investigate. All of that happened in seconds, and when I put my face back in the water, the shark was gone—disappearing as quickly and silently as he'd appeared.

It was my first encounter with anything other than a nurse shark, which I'd grown relatively comfortable with. It was a magnificent creature, one to be respected. Though it frightened me, I didn't utterly panic—a huge accomplishment for me.

We also made a short stop at Staniel Cay, home to two popular tourist attractions: Pig Beach and Thunderball Grotto. We anchored right off Pig Beach to watch the pigs laze in the sand and sun—the piglets were especially adorable, and it was fun to experience once, though not something I need to repeat. Thunderball Grotto, made famous by the 1965 James Bond film, is a stunning underwater cave system filled with exotic marine life, vibrant coral, and hidden entrances.

We eventually sailed north to Nassau to drop Ken's dad at the airport, then set off on a 400-plus-mile jump back across the Gulf Stream to St. Augustine.

Our arrival in St. Augustine was a brief stopover—our goal was to get the boat to Norfolk, Virginia. We ran part of the ICW up to Beaufort, SC, then set off for Beaufort, NC, only to detour into Wrightsville Beach to address an electrical issue with the starter. After sorting that out, we traveled 300 miles around Cape Hatteras and arrived in Norfolk, where we docked and then returned to SC to spend a few weeks with family and friends.

Norfolk marked the transition from Bahamian blue waters to the second half of our adventure on the US Northeast coast.

But that's a story for our next post.