To Conception Island
 
                Ambler Isle
                  V and S
                  
Sat 12 Mar 2011 13:11
                  
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 23 50 95N 75 07 50W March 7, 2011 Awake at 6:00am, we lifted anchor and moved north to 
exit Conch Cay Cut to Exuma Sound and Conception Island about 40 miles 
away.  There was almost no wind, but as we neared the cut, a swell began to 
rock the boat.  We set down the lamps and removed a couple of drawers that 
like to dance during rolling seas.  Should we? Shouldn't we?  It was 
borderline.  Then S/V Dreams at Sea called on the VHF with a sea 
state report. They were through the cut and it was good.  
MV My Sharona was a mile ahead of us.   We 
continued on, still unsure.  The incoming tide seemed to suck the swells in 
with it.  After about 30 minutes we were through the cut and into open 
water.  The swells were about 4' but spaced 10 seconds apart.  Heading 
straight into the swell, the boat settled into a gently motion.  There were 
no wind waves.  It was very comfortable.  Valt set out the 
fishing lines.  The power boat turned north heading to Staniel Cay.  
 The sail boat in front of us was heading to Conception Island also, and 
unfurled its sails.  Minutes later they called us to say they'd 
changed course and were heading east to Rum Cay. The wind was favorable.  
There were no other boats within our line of vision.   We planned to 
spend 2 days at Conception Island, then go south to Long Island.  Weather 
permitting we would continue to Salt Pond and top off the diesel tanks.  
We'd only gone some 200 miles since we left Georgetown, but used many generator 
hours over the past 14 weeks and would buy about 350 gallons of 
diesel.  Exuma Docking Service in Georgetown no longer sold fuel.  As 
the swells increased a bit, Captain Valt altered the course a few degrees.  
While we were still comfortable, he was planning ahead if the swells changed 
direction.  A few birds worked the sea surface.  I could almost taste 
the mahi.  From ten miles away we began to see land on the horizon.  
It was the northern tip of Long Island.  But before we saw land, we saw the 
cloud formations over it.  Clouds always form above land 
masses.   Flocks 
of seabirds.  No mahi.  The swells seemed to increase, but we were 
ok.  The surface had barely a ripple. Dreams at Sea 
called to report catching 2 mahi.  We considered changing course to 
try over there, but rationalized that fish can be anywhere.  Spotting a 66' 
"hill" on the sea floor, we detoured to pass over it.  On we drove, and 
were soon rounding Cape Santa Maria, marked with a stone monument 
as a landing spot of Christopher Columbus.  The sea here is usually 
rough and confused as the waters from the Exuma Sound match wits with the 
Atlantic Ocean.  But today, the Cape was calm.  The only disturbance 
was the persistent swells and Amber Isle was able to ride up the 
swell, then down with ease.  The very tip of Conception Island came into 
view.  Another of Columbus' discoveries, the name he bestowed still 
sticks.  The sea began to take on that "liquid mercury" appearance.  
It was so good to be moving again.  A small water spout formed over Long 
Island.  I tried to photograph it, but the camera did not see what the eye 
did. Two sailors reported whale sightings. We finally stopped to take 
in the fishing lines.  It was hard to believe we were in 50' of 
water:  we could see the coral on the bottom "clear as day."  When we 
finally tiptoed through the coral into the anchorage, we were stunned by 
the impossibly clear water.  We watched the anchor take hold of the sea 
floor.  Soon the resident barracuda and two nurse sharks came to welcome us 
to the harbour and see what was for dinner.  Disappointed, they swam to the 
next boat.   When dark finally fell, it was pitch black.  No 
town lights, very few anchor lights.  The only sound was the surf 
hitting the ocean side of the island.   We awoke that next 
morning and watched the White-tailed Tropic Birds frolic high in the 
air.  Seagull like in appearance, they have an 18' tail.  Their 
peculiar "Key, Key. Key" call was the tip off.  They circle, call, group 
together, do some fighter- plane maneuvers for an hour, never landing once 
during the display.    My first 
sighting of these rare birds I call it "flock bonding".  I guess it 
probably is really a mating ritual.  They fly so high that it sometimes 
requires binoculars to spot them.  The last time we were here at Conception 
Island, Jack and Judy Shader and we stumbled upon the Tropicbird's nesting 
grounds.  They dive-bombed us and scolded us even after we'd turned to 
leave.   | 
