10 Days in Paradise: An Exuma Bahamas Vacation

After an incredible 10-day boating trip through the Exumas, I’m still in awe of the breathtaking beauty and unforgettable experiences we had. From crystal-clear waters to secluded beaches, here’s a recap of our Bahamian adventure.

10-Day Exuma Bahamas Vacation 

Day 0: New Providence

We kicked off our adventure by heading from the British Colonial Hotel in Nassau — where my parents and brother were staying after flying in the night before — to a local dive shop then onto Palm Cay Marina. 

Palm Cay Marina is where we were picking up our 43ft power catamaran that we’d call our floating home for the next 11 nights. The first night was a sleep aboard at the marina so we could get unpacked and settled in before officially starting our 10-day trip the next morning. 

After swinging by the local dive shop HydroTech, we learned an insightful lesson. If you’re planning to free dive, bring your own weights!

The dive shop tried to charge us a whopping $800 to rent 20 pounds of weights for 11 days. We returned half of it right away, realizing it would have been much cheaper to pay the overweight baggage fee at the airport. Lesson learned!

Palm Cay Marina was a fantastic starting point. The beach club there is top-notch, and for $27 a day per person, you can enjoy the two pools, a secluded beach, and other amenities.

The restaurant is amazing too — I highly recommend dining there. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a visit from a friendly tabby cat who really enjoys tortilla chips. 

After a refreshing shower at the marina’s super nice air-conditioned facilities, we were headed back to our slip when, suddenly, all the power went out. Our response? A good-natured, “Welcome to the Bahamas!”

That night, with the generator humming in the background, we settled into the boat for our first evening. I hooked up my iPad to the TV in the galley using an HDMI cable I’d thankfully packed alongside my portable projector.

We watched Fools Gold — the perfect choice for our treasure-seeking adventure that was filmed in the Bahamian waters we were about to enjoy for the week. 

I made it about halfway through before I started dozing off on a galley cushion, which, I have to admit, is typically my go-to sleeping spot on liveaboard trips. Finally, I crawled down to my cabin and drifted off to sleep, having been up since 4:15 a.m. and more than ready to call it a night by 9 p.m.

The next day, we set sail for Black Point Cay, embarking on a 4.5-hour journey south. 

Day 1: New Providence to Black Point Cay

We started Day 1 with a slower, more relaxed pace, which was a welcome change after our first full day in the Bahamas although we were buzzing with anticipation to get on the open water. 

My brother and I made a quick trip to the marina café to grab smoothies while he downloaded a few more movies for our newfound TV setup. Meanwhile, Mom and Dad began their day in their usual ways — Mom with a book in hand, and Dad with his coffee, strategizing what needed to be tackled first, second, and third.

The marina café also tempted us with some delicious-looking sandwiches, so we decided to stock up for our upcoming crossing. If you ever find yourself near a local café or sandwich shop in the Bahamas, do yourself a favor and check it out — you’ll likely be pleasantly surprised by the portion sizes and quality.

Plus, having a couple of pre-made sandwiches on board is always a smart move.

Around 9:30 a.m., Alexis and a technician from Moorings arrived to address a few issues on the boat — a faulty galley door, a broken table lock, and some stuck hatches. While the technician worked his magic, Alexis gave Dad and my brother a full tour of the boat.

With Dad captaining this trip and my brother as the designated first mate, the tour was essential. Alexis also shared some must-see spots in the area, many of which were already on our list, reaffirming our knack for finding cool, off-the-beaten-path locations.

By the time the technician finished, the boys had completed their tour, and we’d had our chart discussion with Alexis. We were ready to get underway. Given the narrow marina channel and the tightly packed boats at the docks, a Moorings captain (referred to as a pilot) guided us out into the open ocean before handing over the reins.

The first hour of our journey was challenging, with choppy seas and an unpredictable wave pattern, compounded by storm clouds to the northwest. While we were relieved to be heading south, the rough conditions were tougher than Mom would have liked.

Once we arrived at Black Point Cay, we had the entire harbor to ourselves — not a single other liveaboard boat in sight. This was a peaceful preview of the solitude we’d often find in the Exumas. Local boats were tied to mooring balls, as there aren’t many docks in the area. 

We took a quick swim, and my brother and I rinsed off the boat using a deck brush and bucket method to knock off a thick layer of salt that we accumulated on our trip.

Afterward, we enjoyed a couple of drinks on the back deck before deciding to be adventurous and explore the beach side of the island.

We anchored the dinghy in the sand and went exploring, marveling at the breathtaking shades of blue and turquoise water. After climbing a hill, we were rewarded with 360-degree vistas of water on all sides, a few houses, and the occasional passing golf cart. 

For dinner, we headed to Lorraine’s, where we enjoyed great food and cocktails crafted by a mixologist named Killer, who sported a stellar embroidered purple collared shirt.

We also placed an order for three loaves of bread, which Lorraine herself promised would be hot and fresh when we picked them up around 9 or 9:30 the next morning.

Island time is definitely a thing here, so we knew timelines would be flexible.

While we didn’t get a sunset due to storms offshore to the west, we did catch a glimpse of a Regulator — a longer and newer version of the boat we once owned.

Dad joked that it was stolen, and though it was in jest, that comment hit home harder than expected. Seeing a Regulator brought back memories of when our Regulator was stolen in the Bahamas many years ago. 

It felt like the universe was testing our trust, especially since we hadn’t spent much time on the water here since that incident. But instead of letting it deter us, we took it as a sign that we were ready to face the truth of what happened and continue enjoying one of our favorite places on earth.

We rounded out the night by finishing Fool’s Gold and crawling into our beautifully air-conditioned cabins by 9:30 p.m., ready for whatever Day 2 would bring on our Exuma Bahamas vacation. 

Day 2: Black Point Cay to Staniel Cay and Thunderball Grotto

Day 2 started with a trip to pick up our three loaves of bread from Lorraine’s mom. My brother and Mom made the early morning run and came back raving about how the house was practically built around the bread maker. My brother couldn’t stop talking about how Lorraine’s mom was glowing and as sweet as could be. 

We basked in the scent of freshly baked and warm Bahamian bread that would be the perfect backdrop to our sandwiches and breakfast plans throughout the week. 

However, we did make one mistake that we didn’t know about until our trip back to the airport at the end of our adventure. You have to get a loaf of coconut bread from Lorraine’s mom! It makes the best french toast according to our cab driver who was born and raised on Black Point Cay. Learn from us — get the coconut bread. 

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With a storm brewing out of the west, we decided to move north to find shelter from the northeast wind. We anchored near the famous Thunderball Grotto, eager to explore this iconic spot.

At low tide, we swam into the grotto, and the experience was nothing short of magical. Fish darted around us in the crystal-clear water, while bats roosted above in the cavern. It felt like we’d stepped into another world.

Later, we rinsed off and headed to the Staniel Cay Yacht Club for some drinks. The rum punch was 2-for-1, and the light, perfectly breaded grouper fingers and cracked conch were out of this world.

We had the place to ourselves for a while, but as the evening progressed, more people started arriving with their captains in tow.

We returned to the boat just in time to watch a stunning sunset. As the colors faded from the sky, my brother and I decided to dive Thunderball Grotto once more before nightfall. This time, it was high tide, and the current was rushing out instead of in, making the dive more challenging. 

With flashlights in hand, we prepped our lungs and followed the rope inside. It was exhilarating but definitely not for the faint of heart. We emerged with just a few scrapes from being pushed against the rocks by the strong current.

We rounded out the night by watching our family’s favorite boating vacation movie, Captain Ron, a fitting end to an adventurous day.

Day 3: Beach Day at Big Major Cay and Dinner at Staniel Cay Yacht Club

We woke up anchored in a serene spot with the entire bay to ourselves. The peace was only occasionally interrupted by planes flying overhead as they descended toward the Staniel Cay airport. With the clouds finally clearing, the sun revealed the breathtaking shades of blue and turquoise that make this area so famous.

We decided to make it a beach day. Our first stop was a secluded beach where we were entertained by two seagulls — one was scolding the other, who was doing its best to escape without leaving the sand.

The scene was hilarious and set a lighthearted tone for the day. 

Later, we moved closer to Fowl Cay and found a stunning private beach on the east bank of Big Major, known for the famous swimming pigs. Mom and Dad ventured out first to check on the pigs and reported back that the beach was empty except for the pigs lounging in the sand. 

My brother and I navigated a tricky cut off the south side of Fowl Cay and made our way toward the pigs, where we were greeted by the sight of an entire litter of piglets emerging from the brush. They were stupidly cute, and though we didn’t have any food with us, we knew we’d be back later with some treats.

Dinner reservations were set for 7 PM at the Staniel Cay Yacht Club, a place Mom had dreamed of visiting since she was a young girl.

The restaurant is unique in that you place your order when making your reservation, a practice that makes sense given the small and intimate dining space.

After a bit of downtime in the shade — the first full sun day had definitely left its mark on us — my brother and I took the dinghy back to the pig beach with stale sourdough bread in hand. As we arrived, a local was just finishing feeding the pigs their dinner. 

Once he left, we had the beach to ourselves, watching the pigs happily wag their curly tails and the tiny piglets nibbling on leftover scraps. It was such a peaceful scene until one of the pigs got a little too excited and put its front hooves on the side of our dinghy! 

I screamed, my brother tried to drive away, and we circled back, tossing sourdough bread to the pigs while dodging seagulls attempting to dive-bomb us.

It was an experience I’ll never forget, and somehow, we escaped without a drop of bird poop on us.

Back at our picturesque anchorage, everyone enjoyed a full shower — the first on board — which felt amazing after a long, sun-soaked day. We dressed up and headed back to the Staniel Cay Yacht Club for dinner.

At the bar, we were entertained by a young boy, maybe seven years old, who was playing the hook game with impressive skill. His hype man, an older gentleman, would lift him into the air, twirl him around, and cheer each time he made a winning toss. 

The whole bar couldn’t help but smile at the child’s genuine excitement as he collected high-fives from his parents and anyone else willing to give him one.

Promptly at 7 PM, the dinner bell rang, signaling that the restaurant was ready for seating. The meal began with an impeccably silky sweet potato soup, so addictive we wished they’d bring the entire pot to the table. Next came a fresh wedge salad, every bit as delicious as our first course.

For the entrees, Dad ordered grilled grouper with parsley potatoes, Mom enjoyed blackened grouper with a baked potato, my brother went for cracked conch with French fries, and I indulged in a steak with parsley potatoes.

Each dish was served with broccolini and a luscious herbed butter sauce that made our mouths water with every bite.

Our minds were blown, and we hadn’t even thought about dessert yet.

When dessert arrived, it was a rich chocolate cake with fresh whipped cream, the frosting reminiscent of brownie batter in the best possible way. We were officially fat and happy, realizing how much we needed this true family vacation. If you’re looking for an amazing meal, the Staniel Cay Yacht Club should definitely be on your trip itinerary.

Back on the boat, Mom and I basked in the light of a bright and beautiful super blue full moon. Dad brought out his phone, equipped with Sky View, so I could get a better look at the surrounding constellations.

I absolutely loved learning more about the sky and star formations. I discovered that the full moon was in Capricorn, which made my previous astrology lessons click even more. I scanned the sky to find Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, with Sagittarius, Capricorn, Pisces, Virgo, and Libra all nestled between them.

After getting a couple of minor bug bites, I got ready for bed, knowing that the next day we’d be headed to the Tongue of the Ocean.

Day 4: Staniel Cay to Tongue of the Ocean to Pipe Creek

We started the morning at the fuel dock to top off on diesel, gas for the dinghy, and fresh water, as our onboard water maker was broken. Mama took the opportunity to walk to the store for a few items and swing by the liquor store for a beer run.

With everything restocked, we set our sights on the Tongue of the Ocean, planning to stop by some coral heads along the way. My brother and I jumped in the water and were greeted by two elusive groupers.

Guppy (my nickname for my brother) successfully speared a snapper, while I had a bit of a rough start, blasting a cannonball-sized hole into a yellow grunt after losing two lionfish off the tip of my three-pronged spear. 

Despite the challenges, I felt pretty good, considering it was my first time spearing a fish and the first time I’d held a spear in 10 years.

After trying a second spot and seeing only minor signs of life, we loaded back onto the boat and headed toward the Tongue of the Ocean.

The color change as we transitioned from the shallow turquoise waters to the deep, bright blue of the Atlantic Ocean is something you can only truly appreciate miles offshore in waters over 1,000 feet deep.

It’s my favorite shade of blue, a sight that always leaves me in awe.

The Tongue of the Ocean is surrounded by a shelf of shallow seas, making it a nutrient-rich area perfect for free diving. We dove onto a coral head that was teeming with life — conch shells scattered the ocean floor where turtle grass took over the sand. 

We found one coral head that was home to a grouper, a couple of snapper swimming nearby, two barracudas, and at least five lion fish, along with large schools of smaller reef fish. It was a hot spot for everything we were looking for.

I had a front-row seat as Dad speared two lion fish with ease, while Guppy took down another lionfish and a good-sized mangrove snapper.

Meanwhile, I was bobbing for conch on the sea floor, coming up with three conchs that we’ll turn into Mom’s favorite Bahamian treat, conch salad. 

The cadence of our free diving was almost one-to-one — each dive resulted in bringing something tasty back to the surface. Except for one instance where I snagged my brother’s spear out of a rock after he scraped the side of a grouper that still managed to get away.

We were diving in 20-25 feet of water and having an absolute blast. Interestingly, we didn’t see a single shark. The only “predators” around were barracudas, who seemed entirely uninterested in what we were doing.

One of them was even sleeping on the bottom, watching us pull up lion fish after lion fish without making a move, which was fascinating.

By 4 PM, it was time to head back to shore, which took about an hour and a half at 16-17 knots in our 43-foot power catamaran. We had our eyes set on the Pipe Creek area for anchorage tonight based on the charts we reviewed yesterday and this morning.

Navigating through a channel similar to our anchorage near Thunderball Grotto at Staniel Cay, we encountered a “washing machine” effect — multiple sections of water colliding with each other, creating slick spots and contradicting currents.

We made our way through the channel to a bay that offered some protection from the northern wind, which had been persistent all day.

When we dropped anchor, the windlass started giving us a bit of trouble, but being stuck in this location for the night was more than okay with us. I flew the drone and discovered that we were the only vessel in these waters for miles in every direction. 

The only other boat was a yacht anchored to the west, outside of a barrier island. We were tucked into a magnificent area dotted with rock formations and small islands.

It’s breathtaking, and we continue to be in disbelief at how lucky we are to be here, basically by ourselves.

Dad grilled steaks and some of our fresh catch on the electric grill on the top deck while we watched the sunset to the west and the moonrise to the east.

The moon was big, orange, and beautiful as it climbed into the sky, eventually turning into the brightest full moon we’ve ever seen.

Today was one of those days that most people won’t experience in their lifetime, and I’m beyond grateful that it happened to me and my family on this unique Exuma Bahamas vacation. 

Day 5: Pipe Creek to Thomas Cay 

We started the day with high hopes for lobstering, but despite multiple dives yesterday, we didn’t find a single antenna sticking out of the coral heads. Unfortunately, today was no different — no lobsters in sight.

Instead, we found a little spot of land that was gradually becoming more exposed as the tide went out. There were swings in the sand, and we spent the afternoon hanging out there. The area was dotted with hundreds of baby conch shells scattered across the flats and shallow, receding water.

We cleaned our fish from yesterday, and I figured out how to clean a conch, which was a new experience for me. I also filleted a fish for the first time and did a pretty solid job!

We fed a nurse shark off the stern with the carcass of a lion fish and played Uno before watching the sunset.

With all four bean bags on the bow, we got comfortable as the sun went down. This was our first sunset without substantial cloud coverage, and it was absolutely beautiful.

For dinner, we had a mix of charcuterie and hot dogs while the moon rose, mirroring the stunning rise we had witnessed the night before.

Mom and I started watching Knives Out: Glass Onion in the galley but began to doze off. After laying down for the night, about 15 minutes later, Mom came in and asked if I was still awake. I said yes, and she replied, “There’s a huge fire in the harbor across the way.”

I jumped up, no stranger to random catastrophes while boating in different countries (nothing as horrific as a fire or a wreck, but having your sole mode of transportation home stolen while you sleep will always be catastrophic in my book).

I followed her on deck to find Dad sitting at the bow, watching a towering chimney of bright orange smoke billowing from behind the island to our southwest, off the starboard bow.

The fire was raging, lighting up the smoke from underneath and rivaling the brightness of the full moon to the east. It was hard to tell if it was a boat fire or a fire on land, but there weren’t many boats nearby in the surrounding bays or harbors today, except for one large yacht. 

We figured we’d find out tomorrow what damage was done since we had to go out through the south side of Pipe Creek, right toward the exact spot where the blaze had engulfed whatever was in its path.

The eeriest part of it all was the silence on the radio — no calls for help, no rescue SOS signals, nothing. Just bright, fluorescent orange smoke billowing into the night sky, reaching the height of a six-story building. For reference, the island in front of our line of sight between our anchorage and the fire was maybe three stories high at its highest peak.

After further investigation in the morning, we concluded that it was a trash fire. Locals often burn their trash as a means of disposal on the Out islands. There were a couple of yachts offshore in the same location as the blaze, but all of them were intact.

Day 6: Provisioning at Staniel, Run to O’Brien’s Cay, Overnight at Warderick Wells Cay 

We weighed anchor around 7:30 AM and headed out to make another grocery, gas, and water run. After comparing the best spots with full-service facilities, we decided to return to Staniel, knowing it had everything we needed. Highbourne was further away, and we hadn’t explored that island yet.

We got in and out of Staniel in about an hour, which put us at our snorkeling anchorage on the west side of O’Brien’s Cay by 10:30 AM.

O’Brien’s Cay, southeast of Johnny Depp’s island (Little Hall’s Pond Cay), was our chosen spot for the morning. We planned to dinghy around the northern point to snorkel the coral aquarium. However, we were greeted by a fierce outbound tide. So, we found a beach, brought the cooler, and relaxed while the tide dropped. We decided to wait for slack tide, which is when the tide is neither rising nor falling, to make snorkeling easier.

My brother and I went over after about an hour of watching the waterline fall. As we approached the mooring balls, we noticed a small Boston Whaler on one, and another center console vessel speeding toward us. I mentioned to Guppy that the boat didn’t seem to be slowing down. 

He replied, “I’ll be at the mooring ball before him, so it’s fine.” But as the vessel kept barreling toward us, throwing water off both sides, I tried to grab the mooring ball line, only to find it submerged over a foot underwater. The tide was pushing us toward the rocks, and suddenly, the other boat was just three feet off our engine, pinning us between their bow and the rocks.

My brother called out, “You don’t need to come barreling up my ass,” to which the first mate on the other vessel asked, “Can we grab this ball, and you tie up to us?”

The entire center console size tender full of yacht-living people looked at us in confusion while their captain remained silent. We declined, telling them to enjoy the spot as we sped off, frustrated.

On the water, there’s an unwritten rule that whoever gets to the mooring ball first has the right to it, and you’re supposed to give them space to tie up. This encounter broke every courtesy, almost turning into a dangerous situation. Did I mention there were also people swimming in the water less than 6 feet from us during this entire encounter? 

We regrouped with my parents on the beach, waited for the tide to go slack, and then all piled back into the dinghy. As we turned the corner around a small rocky island, we were thrilled to see an empty aquarium with two mooring balls to choose from. 

The sea aquarium was incredible, filled with fearless Sergeant Major fish, big tang fish, parrotfish, and some mangrove snapper. The sound of parrotfish and tangs munching on coral underwater is one of my favorites.

We swam around, taking pictures and admiring the multi-level coral heads dotted with brain coral, fans, and other outcroppings. I spotted a small white stingray with speckled spots about the size of a dinner plate, trying to find a place to hide.

A parrotfish kept him from entering his chosen hole, so he swam off in search of another.

After our fill of snorkeling, we headed north to Warderick Wells Cay, home to the headquarters of the Exuma Land and Sea Park. We called HQ as we approached and secured mooring ball number 10, which was directly west of Boo Boo Hill.

The area around us was stunning, with shallow flats to our stern and a beach with Boo Boo Hill at our bow.

At low tide, my brother, mom, and I took the dinghy 30 feet to shore to hike Boo Boo Hill and check out the blowholes. The blowholes were dry due to dead low tide, but Boo Boo Hill was larger than expected. The hike to the highest point on the island wasn’t difficult, but it involved some tall steps in sugar sand.

Boo Boo Hill itself was covered with signs, driftwood, and other memorabilia from boaters who had left their mark as a superstitious sacrifice for good weather.

After returning to the dinghy and spotting a small ray in the shallows, we headed back to the boat. Guppy somehow got involved in fish guts and started feeding sharks off the stern, attracting a 4.5-foot nurse shark and a 5-foot blacktip shark. 

We chatted with our neighbors from Coral Gables, FL, who were floating by on paddleboards, and learned about a wreck under their mooring ball where turtles and sharks could be seen. We didn’t snorkel the wreck due to the strong currents but were amazed that it was so close to us in the channel. 

This mooring ball field is unique and unlike any other anchorage we’d seen yet. With a narrow channel down the middle, the mooring balls are in a circle carved around a shallow flat, delivering a one-of-a-kind landscape that’s worth experiencing on your Exuma Bahamas vacation. 

As the sun went down, we gathered on the stern to watch it dip below the horizon. Dad cooked our lion fish and mangrove snapper, turning them into fish tacos that were out of this world. We wished we had caught more earlier in the week to keep reliving that culinary experience, paired with conch salad.

Exhausted, I was ready to greet sleep with open arms when my brother pointed out the star-filled sky above us. The previous nights had been bright with the full moon, which turned out to be a blue supermoon, which explained how it commanded the night sky with ease. 

With Skyview on my dad’s phone, I stepped out to the front deck to see a starry sky that filled me with awe and wonder. There’s nothing quite like the beauty of a night sky on the water.

After locating constellations like Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Libra, Pisces, Aquarius, and Scorpio, I retired to my port-side stern cabin, ready to rest and wake up to another day in paradise.

Day 7: Warderick Wells Cay to Shroud Cay

We woke up to a brisk 15 mph wind on our seventh day, which wasn’t exactly ideal for our plans. We had intended to head east toward some coral heads about nine miles offshore, but with the wind howling, we had to pivot. Unfortunately, this meant grounding my drone for the day. Instead, we set our sights on Shroud Cay, known for its stunning lazy river feature.

Shroud Cay’s lazy river, bordered by ancient mangroves, promised a relaxing adventure. With the wind still whipping, we decided it was the perfect day to pack a cooler and float along the river in the dinghy. To make the trip more comfortable, we tied a paddleboard to the dinghy’s stern, which became my ride for the afternoon.

We were armed with cameras, drinks, wide-brim straw hats, and SPF long sleeve shirts as we headed toward the north entrance of the river.

The tide was falling, so we used the dinghy motor a bit more than planned. What awaited us in this unique ecosystem was nothing short of magical — dozens of turtles of every size. The turquoise waters, lined with soft sand and turtle grass, were perfect for spotting these gentle creatures.

After spotting our first five turtles within just 15 minutes, we began counting.

By the time we were halfway through the river, we had counted 28 turtles. It was a thrilling experience watching them glide gracefully underwater, awakening a sense of childlike wonder.

As we floated along, the shifting tides and low water levels forced us to turn back. On our way out, we spotted some of the same turtles, adding to the magic of the experience. Once we reached the bay, my dad helped me make a makeshift wake surf on my paddleboard by towing it with the dinghy.

It was a hilarious and memorable moment, filled with giggles and excitement.

Back on the boat, we faced the challenge of limited power. Our outlets weren’t working, so we could only charge devices using the 12V USB chargers. The bright side was that the strong wind created a natural breeze through the boat, keeping us cool despite the 3 pm sun. We took advantage of this by playing cards and enjoying the breeze.

Later, my mom, brother, and I decided to explore the south side of the lazy river entrance. Armed with our last waterproof camera, we ventured into incredibly shallow waters, navigating carefully to avoid getting stuck on shoals.

We saw another turtle and made our way about a mile and a half into the river, but the waning daylight reminded us to head back.

Navigating in the dark on the water is like walking into a pitch-black closet, so we made it back to the boat safely before sunset.

Dinner was already in the works, with my dad preparing potatoes, sautéed onions, cherry tomatoes, and grilled steak. I opted for pasta instead of potatoes, as it had been a while since I’d had it.

As we cleaned up after dinner, we noticed a storm approaching. We secured all hatches and checked our mooring lines, bracing for the storm. The thunderstorm that followed was a spectacular natural light show, with lightning illuminating the sky in shades of white and gray. 

While storms at sea can be intense, being moored to a ball provided added stability and peace of mind compared to anchoring. The storm passed after a while, and we wound down with a movie as the weather settled.

Day 8: Shroud Cay to Norman’s Cay

We woke to a rainy, overcast morning, a fitting follow-up to last night’s stormy weather. At around 6:45 AM, the distant lightning confirmed that today would be a leisurely one. Boating in bad weather, especially in unfamiliar waters with variable depths and low visibility, is much more challenging than driving in similar conditions. To avoid any complications, we decided to ride out the weather.

To make the most of our slow morning, I whipped up mango and banana smoothies while my mom indulged in a game of solitaire. We also finished watching the last 25 minutes of Knives Out: Glass Onion, which we’d struggled to stay awake for the night before.

Afterward, I joined my mom at the salon table for a few rounds of Rummy. I’d only recently learned the rules, realizing it was the card version of Rummikub. I managed to win a round, though my mom stayed ahead on the scoreboard. My dad, who had napped earlier, joined us for a few rounds as well.

For lunch, I prepared a charcuterie board with merlot cheese, Kerrygold Dubliner cheddar, Boursin, pistachios, sliced apples, and rosemary Triscuits.

We enjoyed it with a bottle of rosé that my mom and I had picked out from the Marina Beach Club bar on my first day. It was as delightful as we remembered.

As the rain eased slightly, we checked the radar and the winds to decide whether moving to Norman’s Cay for the night was a good option. Despite scattered storms around us, we had a brief window of clearer weather, so we started stowing everything and weighed anchor.

The trip north to Norman’s Cay was a short 5 nautical miles, taking us about 20 minutes. Although we had hoped to head offshore to spear lionfish and collect conch, the eastern wind and incoming weather made this unappealing. Slightly disappointed and regretting not bringing driftwood for good luck, we continued to Norman’s.

Norman’s Cay, once private, was now supposed to be open to the public, offering services such as a marina, cottages, a restaurant, and fuel for dinghies.

However, when my brother and dad arrived at the marina, they encountered a man at the fuel dock who, after being asked about dinghy fuel, replied, “This is a private island, is it critical?” This was at odds with the charts indicating that the island services were open to the public.

If you’re thinking of coming ashore, it might be best to avoid Norman’s Cay. However, snorkeling the plane wreck on the southern end might be worth it. Although the island itself is private, the waters are not.

With my brother playing Widespread Panic on the top deck while my parents and I relaxed on beanbags on the front deck, we watched the wind shift from east to north, making our anchorage choice seem questionable.

The weather continued to worsen overnight and into the early morning.

Day 9: Norman’s Cay to Highbourne Cay

The day began before 6:15 AM, as the height of the waves and the force of the rain woke everyone. My dad took to the helm, turned off the generator, and started the engines. With the wind having shifted 180 degrees, our stern was dangerously close to the beach. 

The engines were crucial to ensure we wouldn’t run aground if the anchor came loose. My dad watched the navigational screens anxiously, surrounded by white-capped waves and a grey, hazy sky, hoping the anchor would hold and the weather would improve.

In my groggy, worried state, I tried to make a smoothie for breakfast. Unfortunately, my skin had begun reacting to the laundry detergent used on the sheets, resulting in itchy bumps on my right hand and arm.

This meant no Bahamian bread or bumwad for breakfast — an additional disappointment.

With the stress of the weather, a skipped breakfast, and no power for the blender due to the generator being off, I was feeling overwhelmed.

Spending an extended period on the water means encountering a storm or two, but this particular one was dampening my mood significantly. After three hours of checking the anchor, enduring the relentless rain, and being tossed around like a cork, the wind finally began to calm.

With the engines off, we were out of immediate danger. Although the rain persisted, the storm had downgraded to a typical summer squall. By the end of it, we had collected over four inches of water in our gallon bucket.

Once the generator was back up and running, I made my smoothie, and my dad prepared his breakfast while my mom assessed nautical charts to plan our northward journey once the weather cleared.

Mom and I played a few rounds of Rummy to pass the time while we waited for a break in the weather. 

As the weather improved, we stowed everything away and geared up in our hats, polarized sunglasses, and quick-dry shirts — our armor against the elements, particularly the wind.

We weighed anchor and set our course due west to navigate past the reefs and rocks.

Discovering Highbourne Cay

Heading north to Highbourne Cay, the only other full-service marina aside from Staniel Cay in this stretch of Out islands, we anticipated better security. Navigating through cloud-covered skies wasn’t easy, but with high tide and reliable navigational charts, we pressed on.

The channel into Highbourne Marina was uniquely marked by rock formations instead of the usual red and green channel markers.

As we entered, we had to align two red markers — one at the highest point of the island and one closer to the water — to ensure we stayed in the middle of the channel.

This unconventional marking system required careful navigation, but once we lined up the markers, the rest was straightforward.

We managed the marina traffic with care, reversing to give a 100-foot yacht ample space as it departed. After getting the all-clear to approach the fuel dock, we slowly maneuvered in, guided by a dock master in a knee-length yellow rain jacket. He expertly helped us secure the boat, and we proceeded to fuel up the dinghy, the boat, and our fresh water tanks. 

The dinghy desperately needed fuel after our experience at Norman’s Cay, and keeping our fresh water tanks full was essential due to the absence of a water maker.

While I refilled the tanks, my mom and brother explored the marina’s shop, discovering it had a charming selection of provisions, and made reservations for the next night at Xuma.

My brother struck up a conversation with the dock master, Steve, who had an interesting background, including an internship on the Orient Express and travels to various parts of the world. 

Steve shared stories of his experiences, including a memorable stay in Charlotte, NC, where he enjoyed a Jamaican restaurant near Bank of America Stadium — a place I’m eager to find when I return home.

As we finished topping off our supplies and wrapping up conversations with Steve, he recommended some spots for fishing and snorkeling, as well as an anchorage location just outside the marina. We thanked him and headed to the suggested anchorage. 

Finally under blue skies and sunlight, we could relax. The morning’s storm had felt like an eternity, with about six hours spent weathering the storm and planning our escape routes. Once anchored south of the marina, we enjoyed our well-deserved libations.

Checking the ESPN app, I saw that the FSU game was already tied 14-14 with Georgia Tech at our season opener in Dublin, Ireland. My mom and I kept up with the game through the ESPN gamecast, though we ultimately lost by a field goal — disappointing, but an early loss can be a learning experience.

With the game over and dinner approaching, my brother and I took the dinghy to explore rock formations for fish, conch, and lobster. I drove the dinghy while my brother free-dived at promising spots.

Our first stop was too shallow for much fish activity, but we were hopeful for better results as we continued our exploration.

We headed south to another rock formation that was surrounded by washing machine water, a common theme we kept encountering throughout our entire Exuma Bahamas vacation. I had to actively keep the dingy off the rocks until I found a sweet spot in between the competing tides. My brother kept exploring under the water until he speared a small snapper. 

On the next dive, my brother brought up a conch, allowing us to refill our conch salad container. He dove again, emerging with another bright pink shell. Excited for fresh conch salad before our trip ended, I stepped back into the role of conch cleaner.

Armed with a flathead screwdriver and a wrench, my brother held the conch shell while I hammered to create an opening between the second and third crown points. It took us about 15 to 20 minutes to separate the first conch from its shell. 

For the second conch, I worked alone and managed to extract it in under 5 minutes, showcasing a newfound skill that I wish I had filmed. Mom replenished our conch salad container and we patiently waited for it to cool down in the freezer. 

We passed the time by taking multiple dingy rides to the grocery store on Highbourne. Don’t let the term “grocery store” fool you. This shop was the cutest and most mindfully curated store to date.

The Highbourne Cay branding was clean, crisp, and reminiscent of the sea. Sea glass greens were present on handwoven canvas bags, towels, sand castle sets, and more. 

I had to come home with an extra large canvas bag because my family lovingly teases me as the bag lady. I also purchased a white stacking Yeti cup with the Highbourne logo on the front that will fit perfectly in my camper kitchen. 

Once we filled up our newly purchased bags with wine, pineapple juice, butter, and other miscellaneous items we needed, we headed back to the boat for dinner.

To round out what felt like the longest day ever, we enjoyed our vacation nightly routine by watching the sunset and basking in the night sky. 

I didn’t want to admit that I was really not looking forward to waking up tomorrow knowing it was the last day of our Exuma Bahamas vacation in paradise. 

Day 10: Highbourne Cay 

Last night on the boat was rough. I slept in the salon where the table converts to a bed, but it was freezing and the waves were harsh. My brother kept waking up every half hour, disturbed by the bridle hitting the anchor chain, which made me anxious too. 

Eventually, I moved downstairs to my bed, wrapped in a beach towel, and managed to sleep around 4 a.m. Upon our groggy awakening that morning, we all agreed that none of us had a good night’s rest.

Determined to find a more comfortable spot, we left the anchorage and headed northwest along the coast. Our first attempt at anchoring near the Iguana Beach by Allen’s Cay was unsuccessful due to strong currents. The waters were chaotic, with a mix of inbound tides, outbound currents, and slick spots creating a constant battle.

Once we discovered an anchorage outside of the cut with minimal current, we dropped the achor, relaxed, and enjoyed the sun. My brother and I took the dingy around to explore the smaller of the two iguana beaches.

One of the iguanas started to greet us as we approached the beach. This was hands down the largest iguana I’ve ever laid eyes on. He put regular lizards to shame. My mom would have stayed in the dingy and kept on cruising if she saw what I did. 

Later, we hoisted the anchor and returned to a calmer anchorage outside Highbourne marina. We had 7pm  reservations for dinner at Xuma, an open-air restaurant that exceeded our expectations in every way. 

From the stunning view to the exceptional service and innovative dishes, the experience was top-notch. The unique, mouthwatering combinations will have you savoring every bite and eagerly anticipating the next. This elevated dining experience surpasses even the renowned Staniel Cay Yacht Club, making it a must-visit. 

Exceptional service from Chef Michael, bartender GG, and hostess/server Dekota ensures a memorable experience from start to finish, including drinks, dinner, and dessert. Do not skip Xuma’s, you’ll regret it. 

This Sunday night meal was a perfect way to end our Bahamian adventure.

After dinner, we packed up our gear for an early morning departure and ended the night by finishing Captain Ron, since we were incapable of watching a movie from start to finish on this Exuma Bahamas vacation. It was the ideal conclusion to our trip.

A Memorable Trip From Start to Finish

Throughout our journey, we were struck by the incredible shades of blue in the water, the abundant marine life, and the warm hospitality of the Bahamian people. From feeding pigs to diving with sharks, each day brought new adventures.

This trip reminded us of our love for the water and the boating lifestyle. It was more than just a vacation – it was a reminder of what truly makes us happy. As we sailed back to New Providence on our final day, we were already dreaming of our next Exumas adventure.

The Exumas showed us that paradise isn’t just a place – it’s a feeling. It’s the thrill of exploring new islands, the peace of anchoring in a secluded cove, and the joy of sharing these moments with loved ones. Until next time, Exumas!