We tried out our new Wifi extender when we got there and to our surprise, it was picking up signals from miles away. We had no issues connecting and catching up on the work that had been piling up for the past four days. The angry customers had piled up high and after a few hours of calming them down, it was time for a dinghy ride to one of our favorite bars for pizza and Kaliks, Sundowners. Sundowners is a waterfront bar right in the center of historic Plymouth. With free pool, mini croquet, Bimini ring toss, connect four, and chalkboard walls for us to graffiti throughout the night, it was a no-brainer stop and always is. Behind the bar stood the couple that has been there for the past 13 years. Everything remained exactly the same as we remembered it. Everything except last year’s strategic name signing throughout the bar. Some crafty devil had located our signatures in the maze of “hey, ya’ll”s and “I’m totally buzzed, girlfriend!”s and discarded them. It was disappointing but that disappointment quickly turned to determination as we approached the bartender. We explained the difficult situation we had found ourselves in. We had been signing these walls for two years now, writing dozens of witty comments and cartoons throughout the bar yet none exist anymore. He stared off in the distance as he put deep thought into this enigma. Without a word being said, he left. Maybe he gets this a lot, we thought, and racked a game of pool. When we came back to the bar a few minutes later, before our drinks laid a blue-painted wooden plaque, screwdriver, and permanent marker. Ah Ha! We found the perfect spot and signed the names of our friends who had previously attempted to leave a lasting impression on the walls. It would take a hell of a hurricane to bring us down now and we’ve got our money on that never, ever happening.
We spent the next four days on the mooring ball, dinghying our way to and from the downtown area for breakfast and to enjoy the various beaches on the East and West shores. It really is an amazing island. The small town is like something out of a fairy tale. The only Bahamian island we’ve come across that compares in this way is Elbow Cay (Hope Town). This is the first island you’ll come across as you sail Eastward with white Bahamians and that alone is interesting. It takes a few days before you understand that the white guy ending every sentence with ‘mon is not mocking the accent but simply speaking with his own. Yes, we love it here, but we had much to see. On our second to last day we explored the Southeast shoreline and neighboring No-Name Cay. The Southeast side of the island has a crystal clear bay that never exceeds 3-4 feet of water. It has a pure white sand seabed for hundreds of meters and glows every shade of blue as far as the eye can see. After anchoring the tender and swimming around for a while we made a stop at No-Name and were greeted with swimming pigs. Apparently Staniel Cay isn’t the only place in the Bahamas with swimming pigs. For reasons unknown, Cass was very untrusting of these pigs and so we stayed on the dinghy and observed from a distance before making it back to the boat. We wanted to spend some time in Treasure Cay and so the decision was made to sail through Whale Cut and explore our new digs. We left the following morning, timing our arrival to Whale Cut with slack tide.
The new digs weren’t worth a blog post of their own. The beach at Treasure Cay is beautiful and the marina bar/ pool area was nice but with drinks costing upwards of $12 and food over $20, the discounted marina stay wasn’t much of a discount at all. We shoved off the following morning and set a course straight for Hope Town, Elbow Cay. It was about a 5 hour sail away.