BAHAMAS BOUND

The Bahamas. The name alone conjures up images of brilliantly white sand, endlessly turquoise waters, and one famous song by the Beach Boys. Consisting of nearly 700 islands, several of which conveniently border the southeast coast of Florida, the Bahamas have long been a boater’s wonderland, whether it be for cruising, fishing, scuba diving, or anything else on, in or around the water. To provide you with a guide to boating in the Bahamas, and to show that despite some reports, the island nation is still a great cruising destination, we partnered with Roswell Marine and headed across the Gulf Stream to explore some of the islands in the company’s customized Invincible 37 Cat.

WWhile our arrival into the Bahamas was mesmerizing and full of optimism, it was met with the gut punch of reality. The allure of the vibrant, shimmering waters clashed with the nearly year-old devastation of Hurricane Dorian. The lone runway of Treasure Cay Airport on Little Abaco—a stone’s throw from said magical waters—was surrounded by swaths of barren, felled trees and debris, including the two small buildings that used to be the airport. Parked next to the rubble were a couple of RV trailers, which housed a few employees and the lone customs official to whom we presented our passports and paperwork. Yes, we’d made it to paradise—it was just a version that eerily highlighted Mother Nature’s cruel ability to be anything but maternal. And to top it off, we arrived in mid-July, mid-COVID-19.

This adventure boating trip through the Bahamas was originally set for March, but as the world went into lockdown, we pressed pause and hoped for the best— that we’d be able to make the crossing from Florida and the journey through the islands sometime before hurricane season. Somehow that window opened toward the end of June as the Bahamas started making plans to slowly and safely allow travelers back into the tourism-dependent islands. Despite Florida’s drastic spike in case numbers at the time, our crew of eight all managed to secure negative COVID-19 tests and have our Traveler Health Visas approved by the Bahamian government. Due to the drastic change in the itinerary, as well as juggling tons of logistics, the boat made the crossing with two of the crew, while the rest flew in a few days later.

We started at Green Turtle Cay, a quiet island that felt the severity of Dorian’s wrath, much of which is still in plain sight: power poles strewn about, houses without roofs, foundations without houses, piles of debris still waiting to be cleared. But as we cruised the narrow roads in our two golf carts, one thing quickly became evident: resiliency and hope. Every local we passed greeted us with a wave and a smile, and one spray-painted phrase kept popping up in various spots: “Hope is a weapon.” We made our way to Pineapples Bar and Grill, one of the few operational beachside joints on the island. There we learned of the camaraderie of the locals in the aftermath of Dorian. Due to the lack of tourism and resources, the island’s bars and restaurants were working together rather than competing against each other. Each night of the week was a different establishment’s turn to be open, and the others would stay closed. Bartenders would even rotate from one bar to another, helping each to run as smoothly as possible,

YES, WE’D MADE IT TO PARADISE—IT WAS JUST A VERSION THAT EERILY HIGHLIGHTED MOTHER NATURE’S CRUEL ABILITY TO BE ANYTHING BUT MATERNAL. AND TO TOP IT OFF, WE ARRIVED IN MID-JULY, MID-COVID-19.

all in an effort to support the island and its residents as a whole. Our bartender, who served us our celebratory Goombay Smash drinks while there, explained that the Abacos and the other Out Islands of the Bahamas were known as the “Family Islands.” With the perspective of hope and family, it’s easy to see why the Bahamian attitude is so positive and friendly, even when surrounded by destruction.

Our journey on the Invincible began as we departed Green Turtle Cay and cruised south to Harbour Island, nearly 110 miles away. Before leaving the shallow confines of the Abacos, we stopped in Little Harbour for lunch at Pete’s Pub. If you’re ever nearby, make sure to go. I could write a whole article about the unique art in the area and the even more unique man who created it, so suffice to say it’s worth the visit. It was leaving Little Harbour and crossing the open Atlantic where the Invincible earned her nickname on the trip, “the Beast.” With her unique catamaran design and equipped with quad 400 Mercury Verado outboards for power, the boat is designed to handle pretty much anything it encounters, often at speeds most monohulls wouldn’t be comfortable with. The 70 miles of the Atlantic between Little Harbour and Harbour Island were sporty, to say the least, but thanks to the Beast, we made it to Romora Bay Resort and Marina in under three hours.

Located on the northeast edge of

Eleuthera, Harbour Island is its own unique community, known for a relaxed vibe and killer cuisine—and of course, the friendly, helpful attitudes that run through the Family Islands. With an unbelievably accommodating staff and two amazing restaurants on property, Romora Bay was the perfect stop for our first two nights in the Bahamas. Wanting to make sure we experienced as much of northern Eleuthera as possible, Joe Dargavage, the managing partner of Romora Bay, organized a tour the following morning. Our guide took us to four beautiful locations, each unique in its own way: Sapphire Blue Hole, Preacher’s Cave, the Glass Window Bridge and the Queen’s Baths. Should you find yourself in Eleuthera by boat, do yourself a favor and take a day to experience these. Just one would be worth it, but the fact that all four are so close together is part of what makes Eleuthera so special. The Glass Window Bridge is

truly remarkable—one of those “you have to see it to believe it” types of places. Known locally as “the narrowest place on Earth,” the rocky isthmus separates the deep blue of the Atlantic from the shallow turquoise of the Caribbean. On a day with big waves, the Atlantic will occasionally come barreling through the gap, allowing the two seas to meet. That night, back at Romora Bay for dinner, Dargavage smiled at our excitement. A native Floridian, he fell in love with the Bahamas and found a way to leave the corporate rat race behind. These days, he spends a lot of time promoting the islands to the boating and yachting communities, and he was instrumental in writing the protocols to help the country reopen during the pandemic. Like the Bahamians he is surrounded by every day, it was clear Dargavage cared more for the greater good of his adopted home than anything else.

The next morning, we were greeted with 15- to 20-knot winds and looming thundershowers. Our destination was Cape Eleuthera, just over 80 miles south. We stayed inside Eleuthera to avoid the roiling Atlantic, but with winds coming from the southeast, the journey was miserable.

Thanks to the Beast, though, we made it no worse for the wear, and fortunately for our crew, Cape Eleuthera Resort and Marina was ready

OUR GUIDE TOOK US TO FOUR BEAUTIFUL LOCATIONS, EACH UNIQUE IN ITS OWN WAY: SAPPHIRE BLUE HOLE, PREACHER’S CAVE, THE GLASS WINDOW BRIDGE AND THE QUEEN’S BATHS.

and waiting for us. Located on Powell Point, Cape Eleuthera sits in epic isolation on a peninsula in the southwest corner of the island. It’s much more remote than Romora Bay, but that’s part of the appeal. We were greeted by general manager Chris Morris and his wife, Grayson, who showed us to our trio of villas overlooking the marina and then took us on a tour of the grounds. A North Carolina native, Morris grew up coming to Cape Eleuthera as a child, only to see it abandoned and left in disrepair later in life. So, when new investors came in to try to revitalize the area, Morris immediately applied for the GM position, eager to help restore the place that meant so much to him and his family. Like Dargavage, Morris’ loyalty also runs in lockstep with the values that seem to be built into the Out Islands, because he made sure that in the months of lockdown and the resort being closed, his staff were able to retain their salaries. We continued to see that for Bahamians, native or not, community and hope are the keys to persevering adversity, be it a hurricane or global pandemic.

We spent the next day and a half doing as much as possible in and around Cape Eleuthera. What makes the location special is almost everything can be done within a mile or two of the marina: snorkeling, scuba diving, spearfishing, sport fishing, or even just relaxing at a nearby sandbar. We started off scuba diving with Chad Sinden, the dive instructor on-site at Cape Eleuthera. A couple of miles offshore, the shallows of the island stop and drop straight into the Atlantic. Diving “the wall” was a unique highlight for our crew. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the cape’s pristine waters and catching what fish we could, capping it off by having the restaurant’s chef cook up our catch, and then enjoying a beachside bonfire with our hosts. Another advantage to Cape Eleuthera’s remoteness: jaw-dropping sunsets.

With our time on Eleuthera coming to an end, we started plotting our journey back toward Florida. The original plan was to run to West End on Grand Bahama

and stay at Blue Marlin Cove. Unfortunately, COVID-19 had different ideas, and that day Grand Bahama was forced to go back into lockdown. Needing an alternative, we found a condo on Bimini and braced ourselves for the 200-mile run. We made it to Bimini in about five hours, the Beast once again proving her worthiness. Before calling it a day, we set up the outriggers and fished for a few hours. While we didn’t catch much, it was enjoyable just to troll and digest everything we’d done up to that point. Looking back, we had much to celebrate. For many on the trip, it was the first time making the crossing, including the captain, Robert Oswell, who guided us exceptionally well in the less-than-ideal conditions. From the beginning, it was evident just what made it all possible: the boat. Thanks to modern hull designs and technology, boaters have more options for exploration and adventure than ever before. The Out Islands used to be reserved for mega-yachts and large sport-fishers. The Beast, a 37-foot center-console with a 550-gallon fuel tank, had run over 1,000 miles in a week’s time carrying a crew of eight and all the requisite gear. It goes to show that with proper planning and an ability to adjust when needed, a lot of doors can be opened with this kind of boat. If you’re in Florida, hopefully some of those doors are in the Bahamas. I’ve called the Sunshine State home for over 15 years, but until this trip, I had never visited my island neighbors. I can’t think of a better way to have experienced them for the first time.

ALMOST EVERYTHING CAN BE DONE WITHIN A MILE OR TWO OF THE MARINA: SNORKELING, SCUBA DIVING, SPEARFISHING, SPORT FISHING, OR EVEN JUST RELAXING AT A NEARBY SANDBAR.