Hangin' In The Caymans

Scott's Anchorage, Cayman Brac.

The first thing we noticed upon arriving in Cayman Brac a week or so ago was the water. As we approached a (mandatory) mooring at Scott's Anchorage on the southeast side of the island, we could easily see the flora and fauna at the bottom in 50-feet! No place, not even anything we've seen in the Bahamas, rivals it.

South Hole at Little Cayman.

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Apparently the clarity of the water (or the "viz," as divers say) is due to the limestone islands, which hold very little in the way of nutrients. The result is ... wow!

That initial impression was followed by another very favorable one: the customs and immigration officials at "the Brac" were the most pleasant, efficient and helpful we've ever encountered. They were chatty as we processed our paperwork and gave us a thorough run-down of what the island has to offer once all the forms had been signed and stamped. Essentially, they doubled as tour guides.

Unfortunately, our pleasant experience at Cayman Brac wasn't to last much longer. We soon found the anchorage untenably rolly. The biggest problem with the Caymans, one we knew to expect, is that they are laid out east to west and there is hardly any outcrops or bays to get protection from bad swells and wind. After a sleepless night on the mooring at Scott's (and expecting the wind and swell to get worse), Maris and Linda on Amekaya (whom we met in Jamaica), Tropical Blend and us were weighing our very limited options. Staying on the moorings there would have been safe enough, but the rolling was just horrible. Definitely a "2 Spilled Gin & Tonics" anchorage! I had really wanted to go over and see the wreck of the Teignmouth Electron, Donald Crowhurst's boat, which ended up here sometime after the famous disappearance of the deceptive single-hander in the 1968 Golden Globe Race. I was thinking a little essay and photos would make a nice story for one of the sailing magazines -- especially because a movie about the tragedy (starring Colin Firth as Crowhurst) is about to come out. The timing would have been perfect. Too bad I really didn't have time to do it.

There was one vague possibility on the other side of Brac (Sessinger's Bay), but the cruising guides were not very clear about the mooring situation there and, as the customs officials had warned us, anchoring around the pristine coral carries a hefty fine.

One other option, though it looked almost equally bad, was South Hole Bay on the south side of Little Cayman, about 12 nautical miles away. The charts showed very thin water there. Not much more than 4.5 feet and all three boats draw more than that (Symbiosis the most, at nearly six feet). But cruising guides reported a bit more than that. Turns out that Maris on Amekaya had a friend who had lived at Little Cayman and still owned a mooring there. After talking it over, Amekaya agreed to head over, scout out the anchorage, and report back to us on the VHF.

In a couple of hours, Maris reported just enough water and a bay that he described as a "mill pond." Perfect! Tropical Blend and Symbiosis motored over and entered the narrow channel entrance, just a slit between the coral reef. We saw about 12 feet through the cut, all good. Once inside, we made a sharp right and headed in, with Noi on the bow and my eyes on the depth sounder. We touched the sandy bottom once, then again, then dropped the anchor in something between 6 and 7 feet -- our shallowest anchorage ever, with barely inches below the keel. We were almost at low tide, so luckily didn't have much more to lose. Even so, every day we were there, we bounced a bit off the bottom at low tide. Not ideal, but so much better than where we had been!

Spent the next few days enjoying Little Cayman and the beautiful anchorage. Maris, who went on a couple of dives there, reported that we were the talk of the island because so few cruisers ever attempt this bay. It's just too shallow.

Exploring Little Cayman.

Prism, a Hans Christian 33 with John, Shannon and Yet aboard, appeared over the horizon from Cayman Brac the next day. We'd seen them in the mooring field at Brac earlier, but had not gotten a chance to meet them. John is a videographer and is one of the few people I know of who seems to make money at the YouTube/social media thing. Good for him.

In a few days, Tropical Blend and Symbiosis decided to push ahead for Grand Cayman, which is 90 miles away. Since we would need to re-enter international waters, customs required that we clear out and then back in at Grand Cayman -- something that proved a major inconvenience, costing us many hours and miles, There is no longer a customs official at Little Cayman, so we had to go back to the Brac to check out. Add 24 miles (about 5 hours) to our journey.

We timed our arrival at the tricky entrance to North Sound at Grand Cayman for 0830, when customs opens (and coincidentally at high tide, when it would have been easier to get into the shallow bay). We hoped officials would grant us a (reportedly) occasional indulgence and allow us to check in at our marina rather than having to go all the way around a large peninsula to Georgetown. Ironically, Barcadere Marina is only about 2 miles across a neck of land from Georgetown, but a good 10 miles (2 hours) by water. The answer came back on the VHF from Georgetown: You must come around.

So, we motored against the wind and waves down to Georgetown. Tropical Blend was first and pulled into the customs dock. Larry reported back that the concrete dock was very surgy and had no fenders and almost no room to maneuver with a huge rock right there. The customs officials took two pieces of paper and had them off in a few minutes. Next, it was our turn. We somehow made it in and out without a problem. Credit where it's due: the customs officials were very polite and helpful.

As we headed back, we got a call from Grand Cayman Security explaining that customs had not collected the correct forms from us and could we please come back (by land, thankfully!) the following Tuesday to clear things up.

By the time we got back to the entrance to North Sound (five hours later), it was low tide. So, the shallow entrance, slicing between reefs and shallow water, was even more difficult. Thanks to Noi's eagle-eye, we managed to avoid hitting a huge rectangular mooring block that appeared to be just a few feet from the surface.

Once inside, it was still quite shallow, but manageable. Within a few minutes, Symbiosis' engine started loping and then abruptly quit. I have been trying to solve this issue for weeks. The engine will run fine for many hours and then suddenly lose its siphon from the tank and die of fuel starvation. I ran down, confirmed it was the same issue (no fuel in the first filter is the smoking gun) and restarted the siphon by sucking on the line and getting the flow to return. Within a minute or two we had the engine restarted and I crossed my fingers that it wouldn't shut down again.

Finally made it to the channel at Barcadere Marina, which is apparently new enough not to appear on any of the charts. The channel is just a trench that goes from about 12' to 5' instantly. Somehow we managed to edge out and promptly ran aground in mud and grass. Ignoble. Tropical Blend, ahead, could really do nothing, so after a perfunctory attempt to pass us a line, we encouraged them to go ahead and get their slip. Called the marina and they arranged to get a boat out to help us. I got the distinct impression this was not their first such rescue. After 20 minutes or so, the boat arrived and managed to pull us off. We could easily see clear water from where we were aground -- just two feet or so away.

Symbiosis aground outside Barcadere Marina.

Now we are in Barcadere Marina, resting and relaxing. Another strange passage behind us.