Red Shanks Anchorage

We have settled in to Red Shanks anchorage, with Crab Cay to the north and Moss Cay to the south. We are well-protected from all wind, which is why we came here. Last night the wind picked up to 15-20 knots and that speed has been sustained and exceeded by gusts since then. A lot of rain has fallen; we have collected about 250 gallons of water in the tanks so far. 

Luckily, yesterday afternoon, the sun shone brightly, drying the laundry and allowing us to snorkel and explore a crescent shaped beach. From Mantra, we swam to the east end of Moss Cay, gliding over large hillocks of white sand where upside down jellies, sea cucumbers and amber penshell bivalves nestled. As we neared the narrow channel between Moss Cay and the small isle to its east, the incoming current over the low-lying, colorful and healthy coral and sponges strengthened. Among large purple and gold and various colored gorgonians pushed to a 45 degree angle by the stream of rushing water, I struggled just to maintain my position, let alone move forward. I spied Peter on the outside of the little isle. How did he get there? He instructed me to let the current take me back and then stay close to Moss Cay until I nearly reached the beach and then ferry across to him. This worked. Under the water on the outside of the isle, corals thrived and small fish, many of them juveniles, darted about. I was particularly awed by the 1-2 inch golden-orange fish with a broad neon blue lateral stripe, identified back on the boat as the juvenile phase of yellowhead wrasse. The changes in coloration that occur as some fish develop from birth to adulthood makes me wonder about the purpose of these transmutations.

On the far side of the channel separating the small isle from the southeast tip of Crab Cay, the fish became more abundant and larger. There were many large queen and gray angelfishes, blue tang, hogfish and grunts among other species, and we saw one Nassau grouper tangling with a queen angelfish for space beneath a ledge. The current racing into Red Shanks anchorage carried us through without a flip of our fins, one of the few drift snorkels I have done. 

We swam behind the isle to Moss Cay, stopping to chat with two men on paddle boards before getting to the less side of the island where, lining the shore, are mangroves, the only species of trees that can grow in coastal saline and brackish water. They help stabilize shorelines, filter water and serve as nurseries for fish. 

Crossing over the short distance of a hillock to the crescent beach, we met again the paddle-boarding men and chatted before walking along the water's edge. We haven't seen many birds in the Bahamas, so we were delighted to observe white and grayish-brown sanderlings high-stepping on the their black legs and shoving their long, narrow black beaks into the water and sand for food. At the end of the beach, we walked a short distance along the spiky limestone outcroppings. The tide was out, and the nooks and crannies sheltered 1-2 inch Fuzzy chitons with their furry girdle of gray and black bands firmly adhered to the surface by their muscular foot. There were hundreds of little gastropods with colorfully striped shells. (I particularly like the pink and red ones. When the weather clears, I must go back and take photographs of all the life on the beach.)

All salty, we showered on return to the boat and I gathered in the laundry. Later, we dinghied over to S/V Positive Waves to visit Hans and Kristen and their daughters Freya and Matilda as well as Kristen's mother, who is visiting from Vermont for three weeks. Their aluminum boat is only three years old and has many features that ours does not. Peter (and most male skippers) are always eager to see and learn about other boats. Matilda spent a lot of time during our visit swinging the length of the 44-foot vessel over the water in a sling seat. Freya entertained us, proudly reading a story she was in the midst of writing and illustrating. It was astonishingly well done for a girl her age.

Just after sunset, before the sky faded to grey and then black, we returned to Mantra. We battened down for the upcoming storm, and Peter did the final setup for rainwater collection. The deluge started shortly after we went to bed, the tap-tap-tapping lulling me to sleep. 

The wind has been howling, making small white-capped waves all day and buffeting the boat at times. It has rained intermittently, sometimes quite hard. When there was a break in the blustery weather, Adam and his second child, Sammy, came over for word games. Sammy loves Boggle, and I have observed her score steadily getting higher each time I have played with her. We also introduced them to the card game Quiddler, one of our favorites, which Sammy was reluctant to play instead of Boggle, but she seemed to like it well enough when she won. But we had to immediately return to her preferred game, particularly since they were trapped on our boat by heavy rain for a while.

We listened to a couple of Joni Mitchell albums this evening to drown out the disquieting wailing of the wind. No sunshine is predicted for tomorrow, and the sustained wind is expected to be near 25 knots Wednesday afternoon before finally beginning to abate. The winds of 10-15 knots that I prefer are not expected again until after dark on Thursday, and then we can bask again in calmness and sunshine starting on Friday.