Log 12: A Vagabond’s Easter Dinner

Lazily, I lay sprawled across our galley settee. It was morning, but already, a few beads of sweat form above my brow from the stale humid air in the boat (or lack thereof) from the wind’s absence. I stare at the calendar on our whiteboard that’s slowly teetering back and forth from Belafonte’s light cradle-like rocking. Easter is right around the corner, and Exuma’s biggest event of the year, the Exumas Family Island Regatta, is next week. We are starting to feel time slip by. Are we really approaching two months from departing St. Augustine already? Sheesh. 

We pack our snorkel gear, pole spears, and meet up with our new gang of sailing buddies to head out to a patch reef in hopes of catching Easter dinner, which is in a couple of days. Admittedly, we’ve never been avid spear fishers or even consistent anglers. We enjoy spending time in these beautiful ecosystems simply observing the multitude of life surrounding the reef. However, we’ve always respected the sport. Brendan’s father was a spearfishing champion, diver with the Aqua Aces in Louisiana, and would take him on hunts when he was younger. Since I’ve been involved with freediving, I’ve come to admire spearfishing in many ways more than other fishing methods. You’re in their element, and you’re often not the biggest predator out there either. You must work body and mind, and truly hunt. It also allows you to target your catch unlike rod and reel or the handline we’ve been using underway. Spearfishing allows you to be delightfully picky and avoid unwanted catches (or sticky situations) altogether. Also, most spear fishers I’ve met have deep respect for the ocean and appreciation for conservation efforts, as all true anglers should.

We spend the next two days diving and hunting. Now, I’m not sure which it was, the fishes were lucky, or we were unlucky, but there were not many keeper fish to be had except for a bunch of lionfish. (Which if you’re unfamiliar with them, they’re an invasive species here and it’s encouraged to remove these destructive fish from the reefs. We helped.) However, the group was able to find just enough conch to provide for our whole little Oven Rock fam. Afterwards, we head over to S/V Dacia, where Jackie and Evan teach us how to clean and prepare them to eat.

*Side note, if unfamiliar with conch (pronounced “konk”),it’s a marine mollusk (yup, straight up sea snail) that’s dubbed as a pillar of the Bahamas’ culture, economy, identity, and tourism industry. I have mixed feelings about harvesting them, nothing to do with appearance, taste, and anything like that (I think they’re delicious), but because of the depleting fisheries and rising conservation concerns surrounding them. The Associated Press has a great article and short video discussing these issues. I encourage people to check it out (here), especially who harvest these animals. For now, we partake, experiencing this Bahamian icon, while supporting the small-town family food shacks, learning the culture, and celebrating its blessing with new friends.

The sun sank toward the horizon as Easter dinner arrived. S/V Reef’n It hosted, as they were the glue that brought us all together; it also helped that their catamaran is much roomier than our monohulls, hah! Ten of us sat around the large round table in the cockpit area, as a handful of floating dinghy’s stood watch while docked on their beautiful “back porch.”

We chat with new acquaintances and laugh telling stories with now dear friends. Everyone brought a side dish, and like many sailing potlucks, the dishes had as much creativity and personality you could imagine. Potlucks with salty travelers in fairly remote islands where food’s expensive, if even available? Challenge accepted. I whipped up a cheesy Italian inspired dip with a sleeve of prized ritz crackers, Cindy and Ron made yummy dip too, S/V Allure brought two jugs of their homemade kombucha tea, and Jackie and Evan brought over the freshly prepared conch that they spent hours preparing. It was marvelous. We had a wonderful time celebrating, appreciating, and enjoying this special meal with our makeshift boat family. Afterwards, Cindy and Ron taught us a fun dice game (that I cannot recall the name of right now haha).

As we all get ready to head back to our own boats – knowing our plans pull all of us in different directions the following days – Cindy tells us how it’s never really “goodbye” but instead “see ya’ later” and how cruisers’ paths often intertwine again down the line. I sure hope they do.

“See ya later,” we smile, and head back home with full bellies and spirits.

We spend our last day exploring the settlement on Little Farmer’s Cay (just south of Oven Rock). We stumble on a friendly local church BBQ, checked out a rusty shipwreck, and enjoy meeting the kind owners of the Ocean Cabin grill and another awesome cruising couple on S/V Kismet. But it was time to keep moving, especially if we plan to make it to Georgetown in time for the Regatta.

~ Day 52