While we were staging down in Biscayne Bay, preparing to make the leap across to the Bahamas, our generator suddenly started giving us trouble—it kept overheating. After some troubleshooting, we discovered a hole in the heat exchanger. Since the Miami International Boat Show was happening, the only available marina we could find was down at Black Point Marina. So off we went. It took a few days for the parts to arrive, and about a week before everything was repaired and running smoothly again.
Just as things were settling down, late on Valentine’s Day, Declan was bouncing around on the bed and tumbled off, hitting the back of his head. He ended up with a pretty good-sized gash. We called an Uber and headed to children’s urgent care, where the physician put three staples in his head to pull everything back together. We were incredibly thankful this happened while we were still in the States—and hopeful this isn’t a sign of future medical adventures to come.
By late February, we were finally ready to begin our crossing from Biscayne Bay, just outside Miami, to Bimini. We woke just after midnight and started pulling up the anchor. It took us a couple hours to work our way from the Bay Bridge anchorage to the channel entrance out into the Atlantic. Navigating the channel at night—surrounded by flashing lights and trying to align the next set of markers—was nerve-wracking. But by trusting the charts and taking our time, we made it safely into the open ocean.
The crossing itself was surprisingly calm. Waves were only one to three feet, the winds were light, and we ended up motoring most of the way. The Gulf Stream gave us a helpful push north toward Bimini. We anchored on the western side of the island while I took the dinghy into town to clear immigration and customs. Docking a dinghy, walking into town, finding the right office—it was all a new experience. But within an hour we were checked in and officially free to explore. The 54-nautical-mile crossing took us about ten hours.
Back aboard, we weighed anchor once again and continued onward. We rounded North Bimini Rock and began the long stretch across the Great Bahama Bank. The weather could not have been more perfect. At times the water was as smooth as glass—so clear we could see starfish resting on the bottom. We were gifted an incredible sunset, and before long found ourselves surrounded by darkness on a nearly moonless night.
Then, at around 8 p.m., the sky suddenly lit up. For a moment we wondered how the moon had appeared so bright—until we remembered the moon was behind us. Looking up, we realized we were witnessing a Falcon 9 rocket streaking across the night sky after launching from Cape Canaveral. It was surreal.
Eventually the shallow aqua of the Great Bahama Bank gave way to the deep indigo drop-off of the Tongue of the Ocean—falling from fifteen feet to more than five thousand in an instant.
Around 1:00 p.m. the next day, we finally reached our first destination: Highborne Cay. The moment the anchor dropped, I grabbed my swimsuit and jumped off the bow. The water felt incredible—refreshing, revitalizing, and symbolic of finally stepping into the dream we’ve spent so long planning and praying over.
We loaded up the boys and their beach toys into the dinghy and headed to shore. It was an absolutely incredible day, and we are so thankful to be here in the Bahamas. What a place to begin this adventure—and to start exploring this amazing, beautiful planet the Lord created.
