We’d traveled 46.5 nm from Long Island to the “outer islands” of the Bahamas; a chain of cays called Jumentos Cays and Ragged Islands that stretch for 90-miles in a great semicircle from the west point of Long Island. At the southern most tip of these cays there is the only town, Duncan Town, where approximately 50 people reside. Few cruisers visit the Jumentos Cays and the guide book warns that you must be self-sufficient and able to navigate by eyeball to travel this island chain. No people, no attractions, why visit? Because there are NO people and NO attractions…just pristine waters and landscape.
Water Cay was our first sampling of the Jumentos. We arrived late in the afternoon and tucked far into a cove. The water was 2-meters (6-feet-ish) nearly to shore and we were excited for this beachfront access. Brian and I had had enough sun during our sail (first day we’ve wanted a dodger) and after a short paddle in the kayaks decided to settle in for the night and make supper. Still enjoying leftovers from Ren’s grouper, Brian whipped up some fish cakes and we dined in the cockpit while the sun set at our backs.
The next morning we were not bushy-tailed because an uncomfortable swell rocked and rolled Rode Trip all night. Brian and I were anxious to get to land so I hailed Serendipity on the VHF, waking them I’m sure, and suggested we take a stroll to explore the cay. Matt and Jessica had done some land exploring after we’d arrived the previous afternoon and they were happy to show us their discoveries.
We picked our way through the brush to access the ocean side/windward side of the cay. White coral cliffs cascaded down to the rocky shoreline. Waves backed by a steady 20-knot east wind crashed into the shoreline.
We walked a long stretch of coastline beach coming for useful or fun items. There was much plastic trash and driftwood strewn in the high water line. So many un-paired shoes! Flip flops, sandals, crocs, sneakers, even a Sketchers shoe that looked brand new after it’s ocean voyage. Plastic and glass bottles, fishing nets, pieces of line, jerry cans, combs, and even toothbrushes were intermingled with driftwood and seaweed. We found three blowholes; standing to observe the inward and outward flow of the water we “ooed” and “awed” at the bellowing sound the waves made crashing against the innards of the blowholes.
One of the blowholes was backed right against the cliff and it had spewed forth loads of garbage. Unfortunately, nothing of use in here.
Steady as she goes…
This piece of driftwood was our treasure to take home for the day. It’s shape rekindled fond memories of Nantucket.
Back at the boats, we quickly prepared to set sail. We couldn’t bear to stay another night in that mysterious rolling swell. We thought it a well protected spot and we left still pondering the source of the swell. Off to the next cay!