Bahamas, Jumento Cays (Ragged Islands), Raccoon Cay and Johnson Cay – One way to ride out a storm front passing through these isolated cays

The Jumento Cays are the least popular sailing destination in the Bahamas.

They are a scattering of mostly small isolated arid islands with no ‘all round’ protected harbours.   Besides Ragged Island, at the furthest southern end of the chain, there are few land based activities and no other place to restock.   For that reason you do not run into many other cruisers in the outlining cays.

But if you like water based activities, quiet anchorages and are a little adventurous this is the place to be!

That is until a storm front passes by.  Unfortunately this February has been particularly bad weather with cold front after cold front dropping down from North America and sweeping through the Bahamas bringing strong winds.  Perhaps not the best time to come to the Jumento Cays?

(Storm front picture from internet?)

But we are here now, and we want to enjoy some time amongst the cays before heading further south to Cuba.  So what do you do in the Jumentos when a storm front sweeps through?  Well, to be honest there are a few options.  We have heard boats over the VHF radio heading to lots of bays, and I am sure if you study the charts of the area you will come up with your own suggestions, but this is what we did.

Before I do that I have to explain to you what happens when a cold front passes through the Bahamas.  The trade winds dominate all of the Caribbean with easterly winds that shift a little north and south with the time of year and often become very light in the summer, and sometimes very strong, in the form of hurricanes.  In the winter cold fronts can drop down from North American and sweep through the Bahamas from west to east upsetting the wind patterns and bringing gales and rain.

Now it took my humans a little while to rap their heads around it, and actually witness it a few times, before they got the whole ‘clocking wind’ pattern down.  So do not worry if all this stuff flies over your head too.

I will try to explain it to you as simply as I did the humans.  Imagine a clock with north being 12 o’clock.   The dominate winds in the Bahamas are easterlies, in and around 3 o’clock.  The first indication (besides a good weather forecast) that a front is coming is the winds begin to move clock wise towards the south.

As the front approaches the winds will continue to clock round.  South east to due south.  South to south west.  When the winds are blowing from the west many anchorages on the lee side of islands are untenable (you cannot stay anchored there safely anymore).  Although squalls (short storms with accelerated wind speeds and rain) can happen at any time during the clocking of winds the strongest winds and storms usually occur when the winds have turned to a northerly direction and the front is passing directly overhead.  Once the front has passed the winds begin to shift north east and then back to an easterly direction.  Simple right?

Now my humans have to put that theory to practice and make a plan of action to ride out an approaching front in the Jumentos.

As you may remember, we were anchored up at Flamingo Cay to get some shelter from the last batch of northerly winds thrown at us.

It was here we got notice that another front was coming, but this one was going to be much stronger with winds reaching gale force.  The anchorage at Flamingo Cay is open to the west, so my humans decided to cut their visit short and use the last of the northerly winds to head south to Raccoon Cay.

It was smart that they did this as the winds were already starting to clock around.  What started as an excellent downwind sail with winds around 20 knots from the north east finished as a beat into the same strength winds but on the nose from the south east.  At least the strong winds meant they travelled fast and we were tucked into the south end of House Bay on Raccoon Cay by the afternoon.

Although this anchorage is still open to the west in a front, the winds were forecast to remain south east for the night.  We thought it was a nice place to stop along the way.  We hoped the small rocky outcrop on our south would protect us if the winds did clock more south.

Someone had tried to settle on the Cay but all that remained of their attempt was a few walls made of plaster and conch shells.

A delightful anchorage to stop for the night, especially because it had a great beach for me.

With the winds meant to clock further to the south, the anchorage was not going to be tenable soon enough.  We were already starting to feel the surge of waves sneaking around the south point of the cay and around into the anchorage rolling the boat side to side.  One last run ashore and we motored over to Johnson Cay to find protection from winds ranging from south east through south west.

We were ‘kind of glad’ that a frontal system had forced us to come to this Cay because it was stunning.

Prone to surge in normal trade winds, this anchorage is a picture postcard.  A long powdery sand beach backed by sand dunes.  Despite its’ tiny size, reefs run out either side offering protection to quite a few vessels.  When we arrived other cruisers had already sought shelter here ahead of us.

The goats on this tiny cay keep the underbrush cropped so it is easy to hike about, even as far as the other side, but there are no ‘true’ paths and you just have to meander along through routes of little resistance.  The plants remaining on the island have developed defenses against these hungry goats and scent is obviously one of them.  Where ever I walked on the cay I was constantly hit by the strong, but delightful, scent of soap??

But the best part of this Cay is below the water.

Open on the north end of the bay to the Atlantic, and surrounded by reef, I sent the humans out foraging.  Although their skills are not improving, at least the number of targets has, so they have a much better chance of success.

Got to keep them busy filling the larder.

 

The winds are meant to shift again tomorrow, so we cannot stay for long.

The winds the following day were forecast to clock right around from the south, through the west, into the north west.  Winds increasing with a good chance of squalls.   Johnson Cay is a ‘death trap’ in northerly winds, so it was time to move again.  This time our destination was less than a mile away.   Man O War Bay on the southern end of Raccoon Cay.

We anchored well away from all the coral heads off the beach and found some good sand in 3m of water.  We initially tried further out from the beach, but the sand was too shallow.

There is a lovely long beach here, but it is a true windward beach covered in flotsam.

 

If you are into windward beaches this one is great.  We even found a ship wreck.

It also has one of the most stunning shallow reefs I have seen in a long time, and it starts only 10 feet off the shore.  You will find it on the south end of the beach.

Unfortunately it is not the best place to go foraging.  We saw schools of barracuda and sharks patrolling the waters here in the bay.  Although they were scared of us as we snorkeled, I am sure they would have gained in confidence had we started spearing fish.

The winds died down as they clocked around, but we knew that strong winds were on their way.  The clouds in the upper atmosphere were being torn apart by strong winds up there.  Mares’ tails – gales, is an old sailor’s wise tail.  And perhaps the clouds look like the tails of running horses.

We got the boat ready for strong winds and settled in for the night.  A couple of squalls came out of the west and passed through in the early evening.  They did not last long, but gave the boat a good rinse and made me happy we were in a protected anchorage.  It was not until the early hours of predawn that the winds clocked to the north and really started to blow.

We left the VHF radio on emergency channel 16 and checked regularly on our orientation and that of the one other vessel sharing the anchorage with us.   But the storm passed uneventfully, something you really do want.

The anchorage was very comfortable in the high winds and we only experienced a little roll at the top of the tide, but we did leave when the winds started to turn easterly.

In the morning the winds dropped down to around 15 knots and started clocking towards the east.  They were still coming from the north east, but we wanted to use high water and the lighter wind speeds to travel around the sand bar on the south end of Raccoon Cay and get anchored up back in House Bay.

After a front passes the winds clock around again to the east and the leeward anchorages on the west side of the cays are much more settled again.  Unfortunately a stronger secondary front was meant to quickly follow the one that just passed.  The winds were forecast to increase quickly from the east today, with more squalls, but miss out on clocking and instead shift directly from the east to north east and ‘blow a howly’.

We anchored up in the north end of House Bay this time to give us a bit more protection.

We found good holding in a wide pool of sand just off the beach and surrounded by coral heads that beckoned investigation!  But before I send my humans off to work, they have a silly tradition.

They have to toast the boat with a beer and thanks for getting us safely to another harbour.  Seems like a silly tradition when they have to have breakfast with the beer, but they are very superstitious.

So I hope you have enjoyed ‘riding out’ a frontal passage with us.  Perhaps you learned something new, perhaps you think we are a little crazy, but than what is life without a little adventure?