We left Nassau at 8:30 AM on Thursday, January 15th.  Hey, Nassau was great, but with that bank robbery thing, it just seemed like a good time to go.  Also, with a prediction of Northwest winds and a frontal system behind it, it was time leave so we decided to head south to the Exumas instead of North to Eleuthera.  While Eleuthera would have been a nice downwind sail, there did not seem to be any suitable anchorages to weather a frontal passage within reach before nightfall, so, not wanting to experience another bumpy night (like after the last frontal system), we decided to head to Allan's Cay in the Exumas, which offers good protection from almost any angle.  Rather than head through the dreaded shallow coral minefields of the Yellow Banks (like most guides indicate), I chose instead to use a waypoint 2 miles south - southeast of Porgee Rocks and head 181 degrees southward for 11 miles before heading East to Allan's.  This route permitted deep water with fewer threats to navigation, and a better angle on the wind.  All in all it was a great decision since it provided our best day of sailing yet - 6 - 7 knots on a broad reach (the wind hitting your sails from the side rather than full frontal). 

We made Allan's Cay easily by 3:30pm, but so did about 18 other boats!  It's amazing to be in such a remote area and have a crowd waiting in the anchorage.  We did manage to find a lovely, deep spot, right where the tidal currents flow through the series of Cays that make up Allan's.  We put down two anchors about 180 degrees from each other with about 100 feet of scope.  Amazingly, we held through the four current shifts daily, without our rodes twisting together like a pretzels (unlike some of the boats).  While some boats left today, more arrived, so now, in remote little Allan's Cay, there are over 25 boats squeezed into the beauty of this little harbor.

To show you just how crowded this little haven is, Saturday night was rather stormy and we were called out of our bunks in the wee hours of the night to the shouts of a neighboring boat that had anchored rather close to us earlier in the day.  They were sure WE were drifting into THEM.  They were so close we could see the whites of their eyes.  Since we had been holding here for two days, and the GPS and site bearings remained the same, we were comfortable that we hadn"t drifted, but in a situation like this it is better to be safe than right.  However, in the dark hours of early morning, in current and lots of wind, I thought rather than move their anchors (or have us move ours) I suggested that we raft up until light arrived and we could all see what we were doing.  They refused, and let out more scope on their chain and we both spent the rest of the early morning hours sitting in the cockpits of our boats, hoping we wouldn"t crash into each other.   We didn"t, and he came over the next day to talk about it.  The lesson here is that we should have been more bold and talked to the boat before they anchored so near to us, rather than wait for a near crash in the middle of the night.  Even having two anchors down doesn"t relieve you of a potential crash, also consider how much chain you have out, the wind direction, the current, and whether your neighbor has anchored similarly to you (number of anchors, scope of rode, direction of anchors for holding).

We ended up being surrounded by boats and ended up staying in Allan's Cay for four days, until enough other boats left that we could safely get our (now three) anchors up.  We had visited neighboring Highborne Cay by dinghy to walk on the beach there and to Leaf Cay to visit the protected Rock Iguanas (see more in Story & Tales).  Since there is no walk - able land around Allan's Cay, I was able to get a lot of writing done.

As one might imagine, remote locations such as this treat you to a banquet of stars.  Fortunately, I brought my old Whitney's Starfinder.  While dated, it still provides some help in identifying, planets and constellations and even a couple of planets.  While on an extended cruise, you might find astronomy a welcome amusement, since such a feast for the eyes is rarely possible on or even near the US mainland.