May 9, 2012 Shroud Cay

Wednesday May 9, 2012

As we entered the creeks on Shroud Cay via the dink, it was something I had never seen before.  Mangroves everywhere in white sand.  It has been my experience to see mangroves in mud, but this was different.  Clean and calm waters.  It was very shallow and fish here and there, not many even though this is a nursery for sea life and is quite protected.  The winding through the very shallow waters, brought us to a dead end, we took the wrong turn through the mangroves.  Backing out and repositioning had us going to the flats which was separating the ocean from us with a pretty grove of trees.  At first we just dropped the dinghy anchor and tried to walk to the trees but the flats were not going to let us do that with out sinking to our calves.  So we about faced and decided to pull the dink to shore for two reasons, one it was something to hold onto since the footing was so poor and two, we wouldn’t need to trek across that quick sand like bottom that was really wanting to swallow our crocks.  The other side was a narrow beach, colors of the water changed from one end to the other.  Legend has it that one must bring a token to enter the beach, at least I think this was the place to leave tokens, and they were plentiful.  The beach was scattered with mostly plastic litter and a few other odd items.  We walked the beach and I found a big purple ball and brought it back as my token of passage.  We made our way back to the dink and followed another creek which brought us to a cove.  Now there, one would find at the top of a steep hill, Camp Driftwood.  Although the hike up was steep and slippery with fallen palm fronds, there were plenty of palm trees to hold onto to help make it to the top.  There, in the past, was a hermit who lived there but was taken over in the late 70’s by the DEA who decided to make this their stake out and watch the very profitable cocaine smuggling operation run by Carlos Lehder come in and out of Norman’s Cay via plane.  It made it a lot easier to get the numbers off the planes and see how strong the cocaine was being trafficking there so soon after, one of the largest cartels was busted.  Although no one on the island talks about it, fearing it would discourage cruisers it is said there is evidence of bullet holes in buildings on the island and a sunken plane, but I find it an interesting little island, and I think the population is less than 5 if I stretched it.  Fred says they have the best Conch fritters here and I loved their hamburgers the last time we arrived at Norman’s Cay in late December.  When we arrived to the top of Driftwood Camp, we met another couple, Jim and Carol from s/v Wind Quest who are also heading to Florida the same time we are.  When we returned to the boat Fred and I pulled anchor and Wind Dancer was right behind us.  The trip here to Norman’s Cay was a short 45 minutes just motoring.  The tide is going down and the sunken plane in here at Norman’s Cay is sticking out of the water.  It should make for a great picture at low tide.  Al, Sue and I went to the little island our favorite in all the islands.  Fred was tired and stayed behind for a nap.  Although it is small with a total of two palm trees, coral on one side and sandy on the other, it is full of sea life in the tidal pools.  I looked for a conch there although none were to be found.  Lots of coral washed up though.  Chelsea and Sophie had a ball running around the island.  It was probably the first run they have had in a few days and they more than made up for it.  I thought Chelsea was going to swim to another island.  Fearless little gal!

Sue called Chris Parker, the weather guru of the islands, and it looks like tomorrow it’s a go for Nassau.  At that point you know home is right around the corner.  I have run this through my mind a thousand times, thinking we should push on to the Abacos and then cross but I have responsibilities at home that need to be taken care of.  It would put us off schedule at least two weeks.  My friends tell me my house needs me, my friends need me and Wilmington needs me back home.  The saving grace of this whole adventure is that this is what life is all about.  Adventure!  Either in my own back yard or islands away.  One is just as exciting as the other.  Let go and let God.  He surely is the master planner.