I have titled this "A novice in the Bahamas" in contrast to Chris Gordon's series, who seemed to know every Cay and bay, and first names of anyone who lived there. On the other hand we know nothing, and are learning just how little that is!
We upped anchor in Marsh Harbor at 08:30 on the top of the tide, hoping to make it to the fuel dock without grounding. However no one answered the VHF at either Harbor View or Conch Marina as apparently they do not open until 9. We did manage to get to Harbor View and fueled up as they opened: 37 gallons at $6.04 used since Georgetown, S.C. Then we hurried off to get over Lubber's Bank, charted at 2 meters or less and still an hour away on the falling tide. We did make it over with a foot or so to spare, then set sails and proceeded south. The forecast (that morning) was for a North wind shifting to NW, this put the Lynyard Cay anchorage seemingly somewhat exposed, so we anchored in Little Harbor Bay - Little Harbor itself having too shallow an entrance. Two other boats had the same idea, but there was plenty of room. We tried to take the dinghy into the beach but the outboard hit bottom still 200 yards off, so we contented ourselves to a rowing tour of the area, this is quite a workout in a RIB which rows poorly!
The wind did not shift west but rather east, making the anchorage a bit rolly and Lynyard probably the better choice in retrospect. Just one more mark against the weatherman. Early next day we left the Little Harbor Bay cut for Eleuthera. Just outside in a bit of a seaway from the 15 - 20 or so overnight I attempted to set sail, discovering that the 2nd reef clew pendant had knotted itself in big loops so that I could not raise to full hoist (pendant too short), nor could I pull down the second reef (knots do not go through blocks) so after wrestling with it standing on top of the dodger in a bit of a seaway I untied it from the sail to deal with later and we set off with the first reef on a broad reach. Three boats had preceded us through the cut by almost an hour, and then another 15 minutes spent on the sail. However by lunch time we had run down the first, shortly after the second, and as we neared Egg Island the last one. We rounded Egg Island and came into Royal Island harbor which seemed almost crowded, about 12 boats in the well protected anchorage. A couple more arrived after we anchored. There is some construction equipment on the shore but no one was working the day we were there, it looked deserted. At dusk there was the curious conch shell blowing routine. In some anchorages we have heard this from several boats, each blowing a conch shell like a discordant horn. I forgot to ask Chris if this was a local custom.
The next morning we had the anchor up by 08:00, but by that time there were only 4 boats left in the anchorage, everyone leaving early either north or south. It looked as though Spanish Wells could only be entered or exited at the top of the tide so we decided to skip that and get through Current Cut. I wanted to get to Current Cut near the high tide as it is suppose to have a strong current and a shallow channel exiting. We motored over there with 5-6 knots from the south, found quite a bit of current still flowing south onto the Eleuthera bank (lagging the tide which was dropping), and on the cut exit briefly saw 6.5 (our draft) on the depth sounder though we did not touch. The exit did not look like that charted in Explorer, Navionics, or Maptech to my eye. With the wind dropping off to 2-3 knots from the south, and heading south, we motored the whole distance to Hatchet bay, through the very narrow entrance blasted through the rock, and dropped anchor in the north lobe, all of the free moorings being occupied.
One of the things we are learning is that the guides which speak glibly of judging the water depth and hazards by color, and which always caution not to go here or there without good visibility and the sun behind you, must be written by authors far more patient than are we. While it does seem fairly straightforward in these "good visibility" conditions, we have found those conditions infrequent in our time here so far. The bottom changes from sand to grass or rock, clouds obscure the sun, or you are looking into the sun, or ripples and waves are on the water: all these things markedly change what you see, confounding your reading of it. Arranging for the sun to be high and behind you, the water flat, and no clouds in the sky is beyond my ability many days!
Here is the Steamer leaving Hatchet Bay at dusk, 90 ft wide according to the guide and looked less to us when we went through. He just lined up and floored it: