Bahamas, Part 3: Southern Exumas and Long Island
Shrimp toes, cracked conch and preparing for our biggest storm yet
Greetings from “the other” Long Island! Michael, Maisie, and I have been calling Thompson Bay—a large, protected bay in central Long Island, Bahamas—home for about a week now. We sailed here to seek shelter from a rather significant cold front that swept through the entire Bahamian island chain last weekend. I’ll cover the details in a bit, but before you start to worry: Osprey and her crew weathered the storm safely and without any drama.
While it feels like the past three weeks have been all about hiding from bad weather, we’ve had plenty of adventures in between the blows. Here’s a quick overview of where we’ve been:
Route Overview
Saturday, January 17: Cambridge Cay, Exuma → Black Point, Exuma
Sunday, January 18: Black Point, Exuma → Little Bay, Exuma
Monday, January 19 – Wednesday, January 21: Little Bay, Exuma
Thursday, January 22: Little Bay, Exuma → Oven Rock, Exuma
Friday, January 23: Oven Rock, Exuma → Rudder Cay, Exuma
Saturday, January 24: Rudder Cay, Exuma → George Town, Exuma
Sunday, January 25 – Wednesday, January 28: George Town, Exuma
Thursday, January 29: George Town, Exuma → Thompson Bay, Long Island
Friday, January 30 – Monday, February 2: Thompson Bay, Long Island
Seeking Seafood
While our time in the Exuma Land and Sea Park was dazzling, by the time we left Cambridge Cay we were ready to enter the part of the Exumas where fishing is allowed. Before leaving for the Bahamas, we purchased a pole spear that we could use to fish for lobster and reef fish in the shallow waters surrounding Bahamian beaches and islands. Spearguns are not permitted in the Bahamas, so the pole operates more like a slingshot. We were excited to put it to use and try to catch some fresh dinners in the southern Exumas.
But before seeking out good fishing grounds, it was time to do laundry. While we can handwash a lot of our clothes, washing sheets and towels requires a laundromat visit. We’d heard there was a great one in the settlement of Black Point, just 18 nautical miles south of Cambridge Cay. Another draw of Black Point is the fresh-baked coconut bread sold out of a home kitchen by a woman affectionately known as “Lorraine’s Mama.”
After finishing laundry, we quickly realized that the harbor outside Black Point wasn’t a great place for us to stay long-term. A cold front was approaching, bringing cold wind and rain, and beach access was far enough away that taking Maisie ashore for bathroom breaks would be a cold, wet chore. So we decided to tuck around the corner to an anchorage called Little Bay, which had two beautiful beaches almost a stone’s throw from where we anchored.
While in Little Bay, we finally met a cruising couple we’d been in touch with since September but hadn’t yet met in person. S/V Anatta had spent time in Deltaville earlier in the season, and despite several attempted rendezvous, our timing never quite lined up. We were thrilled to finally share an anchorage and enjoyed letting our dogs run around the beach together.
One day, we walked to Black Point settlement together to pick up a few grocery items—and, of course, Lorraine’s Mama’s coconut bread. I knew the general location of her house, but since the settlement doesn’t use numbered addresses, I asked a local woman out for a walk if she could point us in the right direction. She told me Mama’s house was right down the street and that Mama herself was sitting on her front porch. We couldn’t miss her.
Sure enough, we found Mama weaving a basket from sweetgrass on her porch. When we asked if she had any bread for sale, she replied, “Of course!” and invited us inside. Mama led us to her kitchen, which was thick with the smell of yeast, sugar, and coconut. In the center sat the biggest mixer I’ve ever seen, and on the counter were several loaves of fresh bread. After chatting briefly about how she learned to bake, we were on our way—warm loaves of coconut bread in hand.
Coconut bread wasn’t the only Bahamian cuisine we enjoyed in Little Bay. We made several attempts to spearfish for dinner, and while we found two rocky coral areas that were fun to explore, we didn’t spear any fish or lobster. However, Michael did find several conch.
Conch are large sea snails common throughout the Bahamas. Their meat is tough—and even tougher to extract from the shell. After consulting several YouTube videos, Michael successfully removed the animal, cleaned it, and tenderized the meat. I took over from there, battering and deep-frying thin slices. That evening, we hosted the crew of Anatta for drinks and cracked conch in our cockpit.
Adventure Around Every Corner
One of the best parts of cruising the Exumas is how little distance you have to travel to find the next beautiful place. After the cold front passed, we left Little Bay and headed just 7 nautical miles south to Oven Rock, where we met back up with our friends on S/V Peaks and enjoyed a hike to what we now affectionately call “Shrimp Cave.”
After a shore hike—and nearly missing our turn—we arrived at a mysterious cave entrance. Inside, we were surrounded by stalagmites and with a saltwater pool at our feet, and stalactites and a colony of bats overhead. The cave was dark and damp, and it took a few minutes to steel our nerves before jumping into the murky water. Once we did, we were rewarded with even more spectacular sights and sounds: an island of stalactites rising from the center of the pool, and the ghostly echo of water slapping against cave walls as the six of us swam across.
The cave earned its nickname when Peaks’ youngest looked down and exclaimed, “I have shrimp toes!” Sure enough, tiny shrimp crawled along the rocks in the shallow end of the pool—and across our toes.
From Oven Rock, we made another short sail to Rudder Cay. Rudder Cay and neighboring Musha Cay are private islands owned by magician and illusionist David Copperfield. Several years ago, Copperfield commissioned a sculpture of a mermaid sitting at a piano, called The Musician, and sank it offshore as a unique dive site.
Joined again by Peaks, we spent the day diving The Musician and a nearby rocky outcrop, both teeming with life. At The Musician, the crew of Peaks speared two lionfish, which I later fried up and shared when they invited us over for dinner. At the rocky outcrop, I spotted a sea turtle and swam alongside it for about 50 yards. We also saw a curious nurse shark and several schools of fish.
Rudder Cay was one of the most stunning places we visited in the Exumas: dozens of small islands with pristine white beaches scattered across turquoise water, and vibrant marine life below the surface. There are two ways to experience Rudder Cay—arrive by private boat, or pay upward of $40,000 per night to stay at David Copperfield’s private resort. We’re incredibly grateful to explore such a beautiful piece of the planet aboard our own floating home.
George Town: Adult Summer Camp
Our next stop was a famous one among cruisers—George Town. Located at the southern end of the Exuma island chain, George Town is a hub for cruisers reprovisioning, reconnecting with friends, or staging for longer passages to outer islands or farther into the Caribbean. Others treat it as a snowbird home, spending five to six months each winter soaking in the harbor’s lively community.
In George Town, cruisers take yoga classes on the beach, play volleyball, attend organized excursions, and more. It’s no wonder there were nearly 200 boats anchored in the harbor when we arrived. After weeks of quiet anchorages, the crowds felt overwhelming at first—but we quickly leaned into the fun.
To learn what’s happening in the harbor, sailors tune into the local “cruisers’ net” each morning. At 8 a.m., I’d turn our VHF radio to channel 68 for a moderated round of announcements. Cruisers shared weather updates, requested help with boat projects, offered items to swap or give away, and announced upcoming events—like the pig roast dinner we later attended at Chat ’N’ Chill. After being fairly isolated for a few weeks, it felt good to be part of a large, active community.
Other highlights from our time in George Town included two hikes, reconnecting with our friends on S/V Alboe, and attending a few beach yoga classes.
It seemed the cold fronts kept following us, and while in George Town we began tracking what looked like a particularly strong one. After receiving a message from our sailing coach advising us to prepare, we started to seriously consider whether George Town was where we wanted to ride it out.
Storm Preparations
One of the best preparations we made for our Bahamas trip was working with Behan and Jamie from Sailing Totem. They are seasoned world cruisers who now offer coaching services, including one-on-one calls, texts, and emails whenever questions arise. They also host seminars on topics like provisioning, boat setup, and managing anxiety, and moderate a discussion group of more than 200 sailors. When severe weather is forecast, Jamie provides advanced, personalized guidance.
Earlier that week, Jamie messaged all his clients in the Bahamas and advised us to prepare for the approaching blow. Forecasts were calling for gusts over 50 knots and 15-foot ocean swells—conditions that could be damaging to any unprepared boat. Jamie organized a group call and provided tailored advice for each of our storm plans.
With his support, Michael and I decided to leave George Town and head about 40 nautical miles southeast to Thompson Bay, Long Island. In a storm, one of the greatest risks isn’t wind or waves—it’s other boats. If a neighboring boat drags anchor or suffers equipment failure in 50-knot winds, it could be blown directly into another vessel. With more than 200 boats in George Town, we didn’t want to take that risk.
So off we went—to our fourth island group: Long Island.
The Biggest Storm Yet
In Thompson Bay, Long Island, we not only found protection from the storm, but also an extremely welcoming community of cruisers and locals — all things that were well worth the fairly rough and wet sail it took us to get here.
We arrived in Thompson Bay a day before the storm was forecast to hit. We spent that day visiting the grocery store and reconnecting with our friends aboard S/V Eleanor and S/V Bubblemoon. When I made too many Rice Krispie Treats and put out a call to other boats in the anchorage to “come and get ’em,” we also met a couple aboard S/V Serendipity. They have since become Maisie’s best friends, taking her on shore walks multiple times during our stay in the bay.
After a full day of chores and catching up with friends, we battened down the hatches and got ready for the storm. During our preparations, I finally discovered the source of a strange sound that had been following us ever since we crossed from the Berry Islands to Eleuthera — it was our fishing lure vibrating against the taut line as the rod sat in its mount on the stern rail!
As the blow approached, we felt confident in both our preparations and our choice of anchorage. The most uncomfortable part of the storm was on Saturday, when the wind blew out of the south and southwest, directions from which Thompson Bay offers little protection. By late Saturday night, however, the wind clocked around to the west and eventually the northwest. While wind speeds picked up, gusting toward 40 knots, the land surrounding the bay provided natural protection. Come Sunday morning, the sun rose, and it seemed that everyone in Thompson Bay had made it through the storm without drama.
With the storm kicking up some major ocean swells, we decided to give the seas a few days to calm down before leaving Thompson Bay. While we waited, we enjoyed walks on the beach, an attempt at spearfishing with the crew of Bubblemoon (the water was too murky to see anything), and cockpit conversations with the crew of Eleanor. We also began planning our next destination: the Ragged Islands.
Next Steps
We’re looking forward to the next phase of our adventure — exploring the remote Ragged Islands. We’ve heard these less-visited islands are rich with fish and lobster, so hopefully we can finally make our fresh-fish dinner dreams come true.
The Raggeds are remote, with no marinas and only one small inhabited settlement at the southern end of the chain. That means we need to be fully provisioned with food and fuel and make sure Osprey is in tip-top shape. We’ll also be keeping a close eye on the weather, since there are very few anchorages that offer protection from west winds.
Stay tuned to hear how those preparations go, and hopefully how we are enjoying our most remote Bahamian island chain so far!
Until then, cheers!
— Jen, Michael, and Maisie