Written by Hans Wilson
Sunday – We unloaded the dinghy and used it to head to Moxeytown to make dinner reservations at Mr. Greens restaurant and drop off some trash. Dave had stayed with the boat, a theme common to travelling with him. It is his baby and he likes to spend time making sure she is just right. We headed over to Gibson Cay, which had a blue hole in the middle of it. Em dropped back to walk the beach as The Squirrel and I worked our way over the karst, in our flip flops. It was a typical first day mistake for walking gear but we were careful. We got to the blue hole, which was probably 400’ wide. I could not see the bottom except at the edges, which I estimated to be 30’ deep. I paused long enough to drink the Gold Kalik I had nurtured in my back pocket, then we picked our way carefully back to the shoreline. Eventually we found Em and headed back to the boat.
Dave and The Squirrel did some scouting of the Middle Bight since we were mixing routes between the waterway guide and GPS points Charlie Bethel gave us. Charlie Bethel owns the Flamingo Cay Rod and Gun Club and makes the trek across the island on a regular basis, providing supplies to his resort. The boys stopped in to see Crazy Charlie (not Bethel) who was living out his life in a run down resort famously known as the Bang Bang Club. Charlie tied bonefish flies, drank his homemade Sapodilla wine, and told the boys stories of his time running the club.
Meantime Em and I stayed on the boat and I actually did some work for the business. As time got on we started to worry a little since the boys didn’t respond to our hail on Channel 14, the agreed channel to monitor on the VHF. Turns out when they arrived and checked in, Dave handed the radio over to The Squirrel, who inadvertently switched the radio to channel 16 instead of 14, doing his best distress impression for Em and I, only to broadcast to the world instead. I guess I am sorry I missed it, maybe not.
They finally got back to they boat for our dinner reservations. The wind was howling out of the east, probably 10 to 15 mph, and the dinghy ride was pretty far for a late night run back to the boat. Dave made the call to relocate the boat closer to Moxeytown on the south side of the bight so we had a short dinghy ride to the restaurant.
The Green’s restaurant was basically a tiki hut with bar, some plumbing, a sand floor and a kitchen in the back. The Squirrel put in an order for a seafood mix for all, except no conch for Em, and Mr. Green refreshed the vodka drinks we brought with us to the restaurant. We chatted with the locals, met Mike, a retired special forces guy (we later learned) and got some good information on the tides and the “wheel channel” that Mike admonished us to stay in as we trekked across the Middle Bight to the west side of Andros. The conch was opened fresh by Mr. Green on the “dock” and his daughter, Anastasia, was prepping conch salad right in front of me. It was fascinating watching her chop and prep the salad, seemingly with her eyes closed. I complimented her on her abilities, as “poetry in motion” and received a big grin filled with beautiful white teeth in return. We finished our meals, dropped about $100 in the bar, then loaded up for the now short dinghy ride back to the boat. Good call Dave!
Hanging in the “restaurant” at Mr. Greens.
I retired once again to the top deck for my evening solitude, scotch tinkling in my coffee cup, and watched the starry sky. It is so beautiful in the Bahamas, with the various colors of the water, sunsets, and unadulterated starry skies. I always enjoy these trips and was happy to be relaxing.
Bahamas sunset in Middle Bight.