Blue Holes, Sea Turtles, and Wild Weather: Our Jump to the Berry Islands

From Royal Island to the Berry Islands: The Blue Water Leap

After the intensity of Current Cut, we sought a bit of solitude at Royal Island Harbour. This perfectly protected natural bowl is a cruiser’s sanctuary. Surrounded by the ruins of an old 1930s estate, the harbor feels like a step back in time. We spent a day exploring the ghostly, crumbling stone walls and overgrown paths—a quiet contrast to the rushing tides we had just left behind.

But as any sailor knows, a good weather window is a terrible thing to waste. With the Atlantic settling and a gentle breeze calling, we weighed anchor and pointed Jubilee west toward the Berry Islands for the next part of our adventure.

Crossing the Channel

The passage across the Northwest Providence Channel is about 35–40 miles of true deep-water sailing. Watching the depth sounder drop from the shallow, 15-foot greens of the Bank into the bottomless, ink-blue of the Channel is always a thrill. It’s that deep, “Tongue of the Ocean” blue that reminds you just how vast these waters really are.

For a catamaran like our Xquisite X5, this is where she really shines—stable, comfortable, and slicing through the swell as we left the silhouette of Eleuthera in our wake.

Arrival: The Fishbowl of the Bahamas

The Berry Islands, often called the “Fishbowl of the Bahamas,” greeted us with their signature quiet charm. Dropping anchor here is a unique experience; the chain rattles down into water so clear it feels like you’re hovering over the sand rather than floating on top of it.

After getting settled in our new anchorage, we headed north in the dinghy the next day for a short trip up toward Hoffman’s Cay. We anchored the dinghy and set off on foot to explore. Winding our way through the jungle, we eventually came upon the Hoffman’s Cay Blue Hole.

Just as we began exploring, the clouds turned gray. We quickly ducked into a nearby cave at the edge of the blue hole to wait out the passing rain. It turned out to be a wonderful moment to stop, reflect, and truly slow down to enjoy the beauty of God’s creation—a rare pause instead of chasing the boys as they rushed ahead to discover the next great adventure on the island. Once the rain cleared, we headed further inland, discovering a few more old ruins along the way.

Close Encounters and Sunken Ships

Next, it was time to head back to the beach, where we were greeted by three friendly sea turtles. They were just as curious about us as we were about them, swimming so close that one of them gently brushed against Pamela as he swayed along. It was an incredible experience swimming alongside them for fifteen minutes or so, with the turtles leading the way as the boys swam close behind.

The next day, we met up with three other cruising boats and went snorkeling in search of a sunken ketch. Seeing this large vessel resting just beneath the surface was a sobering reminder of the absolute power of Mother Nature.

Sailing on Anchor

The following day, we decided it was time to pull up the hooks and head south toward Alder Cay. The previous night, we had found ourselves “sailing on our anchor”—a very uncomfortable phenomenon caused by opposing wind and current.

Typically, our boat points directly into the wind. However, at this particular anchorage, the strong tidal current kept forcing our hulls off the wind. As the breeze picked up, the force of the wind against our beam would cause us to sail forward over our own ground tackle, leaving the anchor line trailing off our stern. After a very restless night of watching the boat lurch, we were more than ready to head over the horizon in search of a more comfortable anchorage.