Post #9
We left Black Point Settlement stocked with fresh groceries, full water tanks, and a shaky start to the week behind us. The plan was simple: make a short hop south before the final push to Georgetown. But nothing in the Exumas is ever as straightforward as it looks on the chart, especially when you’re cruising with a five-foot draft and a strong will.
To get to Georgetown from the Banks, we had to punch back out into the Atlantic. That may sound easy, but it involves some serious decision-making. Choosing the right cut to exit is a sailor’s version of a choose-your-own-adventure story. Each cut has its pros and cons, from depths and currents to traffic and breaking waves.
We set our sights on Little Farmers Cut, partly because it looked the safest and partly because Rodney had been following The Pioneers of the Caribbean on YouTube for years. They were building a house on nearby Big Farmers Cay, and we were hoping to drop by and check out their progress.
The sail south was easy, until it wasn’t.
As we approached Oven Rock, we were thrilled to see not a single boat in sight, a first. Just as Rodney made the final turn to settle in, I caught movement on the horizon. Two powerboats. Out of nowhere, they spun around and made a beeline for the exact spot we were headed for. Despite us making our intentions clear, they threw their throttles down and cut us off, dropping anchor right in front of us.
Ugh.
We were hot. I had to talk Rodney off the ledge, not literally, but you get the vibe. In the end, we found a new spot and reminded ourselves that life is too short to argue over a pretty place to drop the hook.
With the dinghy down, we zipped over to Big Farmers Cay and met the father and son duo behind The Pioneers of the Caribbean. They are building their dream, a house by hand, in paradise. Their passion was contagious, and seeing it up close made us even more excited about chasing our own crazy dreams.
After our visit and a quiet beach walk, we turned in early. We had a 7:00 AM departure planned, needing to hit Little Farmers Cut at the right time, and we were nervous. This would be our first time navigating a small cut like this.
Rodney took the helm, and I stood lookout. As we moved through, I spotted the infamous shallows off to port, the kind that have claimed many a keel. I winced and held my breath until we were past them.
The Atlantic didn’t let us off easy. Waves started bashing us almost immediately. But after surviving Port Everglades back in Florida, we were used to getting slapped around a bit.
We pushed out far enough for safety, turned the bow south, and settled in for a long day. The motor sail was smooth and mostly uneventful, just a handful of boats headed north while we headed south. That is when it really hit us. We were late in the season for cruising the Bahamas. Most cruisers were already en route back to the States or Canada for hurricane season. But not us. We never do things the usual way. Go figure.
When Georgetown finally appeared on the screen, we had one last challenge, another tricky entrance. It looked straightforward on Navionics, but looks can be deceiving. The boat in front of us followed the Nav track and promptly ran aground.
Ouch.
I grabbed the Explorer Chartbook, traced their recommended route, and noticed it took a totally different path. With no hesitation, we followed it, and made it in just fine, passing the grounded boat slowly backing out. A reminder that local knowledge always wins.
We pulled into Sand Dollar Beach, planning to stay a week. Or so we thought…
Want to see what happens next?
Follow along as we settle into life in Georgetown, explore the cruisers’ community, and maybe (definitely) get into a little trouble.
See you out there,
Patrice & Rodney | Sailing Kismet