After spending late December, most of January and February, and the opening days of March in George Town, the crew of Liberty was nearly desperate to strike out for somewhat less populated waters.  When we arrived in George Town on December 22, there were already around 60 or 75 boats at anchor, and by the time we finally left on Wednesday, March 4th, there were over 300 boats.  As in all societies, with all those boats and their crews, some social organization, the bane of the independent cruiser's existence, must rear its ugly head.  We eventually found that we were back on schedules again, just like when we lived in the 'burbs and wore watches and knew the day, date and even the time of day.  Each activity, taken on its own, was enjoyable or fulfilling or an opportunity to be with wonderful people we liked, but taken as a whole it just seemed like we were on the go a little too much.  So, when the first weather window opened for a passage northwest into the Exumas, we took it.
Within a few minutes of leaving Conch Cay Cut at the north end of Stocking Island and sailing out into the deep waters of Exuma Sound, we discovered that our weather window, like so many others we've jumped out into when we felt rushed to leave someplace or get to somewhere else, was not quite as open as we would have liked.  The wind was still pretty stiff, and the seas running higher than we like, but we still sailed under our "jib & a jigger" (headsail and mizzen) for 5 hours to Galliot Cut at Farmer's Cay.  Upon entering that cut and heading onto the Exuma banks, we kept the wind, but left the 5 to 6 foot swells behind.  We had just begun a good sail in the protected waters of the banks when we were hailed on the VHF by Jeff on Socia, a catamaran from Massachusetts with a family on board that we had met at George Town.  Jeff invited us to anchor at Great Guana Cay, near Oven Rock, to explore a cave with his boys.  They called it the "dripping cave" because of the water that drips from the ceiling.  After getting the anchor down (but not set very well - the tip was in a couple of inches of sand over a hard bottom, but by this time the wind was settling down and there was nothing behind us except miles and miles of 16 foot deep water, plenty of room for the anchor to reset if we dragged), we dinghied to shore.  Although Jeff and his boys had explored this cave several times in past years, he told us it was always an adventure finding it - and it was!  We clambered around the rocky, scrub-covered hillside until finally one of his boys found the entrance - a gaping, 50' wide opening, well disguised by a huge tree growing from within the cave, the branches spreading as if to hide the cave entrance.  The cavern was large, with stalactites and stalagmites, and a big fresh water pool at the bottom surrounding the many boulders and rock formations.  Interestingly, many of the stalagmites and rock columns are under water, indicating that the water level was significantly lower at some point.  In fact, it is known that 15,000 years ago, the water level in the area was approximately 300 feet lower than it is today and the Great Bahama Bank was a huge island.  The boys found red cave shrimp in the water, and termite trails on the ceilings, and generally explored for over an hour.  At Jeff's urging we had brought several flashlights and headlamps that we used to see into the depths.  There was also a metal pail and dip cup that had been placed on the top of a stalagmite under a dripping stalactite, positioned to catch the dripping water to allow visitors to taste it.  The pail was covered with nearly an inch of mineral buildup, and even the small plastic dip cup had a coating of minerals adhering to it.  The bucket was half full of fresh water, but with a strong mineral taste.
After the boys had their fill of spelunking, we scrambled back down the rocky hillside path, but rather than return to the dinghies, we hiked further across the narrow island to the edge of a cove on the windward ocean side. On this side of the island the sea had worn an opening in the rocky limestone edge of the island, about 600 feet wide, opening into a wide shallow bay edged by a long seaweed and trash strewn beach and flanked at each end by hard coral structure on the bottom, covered at high tide but exposed at low.   Since we had arrived at low tide, there was ample exploration of both beach and rock to be done, by both children and adults alike.  Nancy wandered the beach looking for shells and sea beans while Dave rooted through the trash looking for anything useful.  The boys ran ahead, and behind, and up and down the beach and rocks, turning things over, picking up various "guns and weapons", and looking for sea life, and generally having a ball.  As the sun dipped lower in the sky, we realized it was time to hike back to the dinghies and head for our respective floating homes.  On the trail back, we found several small rock cairns and other signposts clearly marking the trail up the hillside to the cave - we had just not hiked far enough in on the original trail to find them before beginning our wide-ranging scramble across the hillside.  Other than a few cuts and scrapes, no one was worse for wear by having forged our own path.  We invited Jeff and his boys over to Liberty for a dinner of chicken curry (supplied by Liberty) with rice and lentils (supplied by Socia).  Another wonderful day with another wonderful cruising family wound to a close with drooping eyelids on 4 boys and their parents.
The next morning (Thursday, March 5th) Chris and Josh sailed on Socia while Nancy and Dave sailed Liberty north about 15 miles to Big Major's Spot near Staniel Cay in the Exumas.  After setting anchors in the sandy bottom, we enjoyed a quick lunch of fresh focaccia and wheat bread on Socia, baked by Jeff while underway, with some cheese and sausage.  We then met up again with Tauá, who had sailed with us from George Town but had stayed out in Exuma Sound longer and entered the banks at a cut farther north than we did.  Claudia (age 9) had told us all about Piggy Beach at Big Major's, and the "wild" pigs that live there, so we quickly jumped in the dinghies and headed for the beach.  We dinghied up to Piggy Beach where we were greeted by 5 or 6 pigs that waded out into the water, waiting for new friends and goodies.  We knew about the pigs, and had come armed with a few scraps of lettuce and stale bread.  The pigs are friendly, and love to be scratched - Jeff scratched one's back so long that the pig, in total nirvana, stretched out its front left leg and right rear leg, slowly, slowly stretching, until it finally sank down and toppled over onto the beach, grunting quietly in heavenly piggy bliss!
We also had time to catch up, for the final time in the Bahamas, with our friend Bill on Charisma and his friend Chuck, sailing with him back to the USA.  Bill was the choir director at Beach Church, so he spent quite a bit of time working with Nancy (flute) and Chris (youth choir) during our time in George Town.  Bill manages one of the West Marine stores in Deltaville, VA, where we plan to head first upon our return to the USA this summer, so we're sure we'll catch up with him again. We also reunited with our friends on Three @ Sea, a family with 12yr. old Ayla on board.  They had left George Town many weeks before and just happened to be at Big Major's now.  The kids all had a ball together (Claudia was especially pleased to have another girl amidst all the boys) and the adults exchanged notes on favorite places to visit.  Of course, with all these kids (and the young at heart too) a bonfire/marshmallow roast was a must one evening as we watched a gorgeous sunset over the Great Exuma Bank.  It is always great to meet up with friends.
We hung out for several days at Big Major's Spot.  There were a couple of dozen boats in the anchorage, enough that it almost seemed like George Town.  The first morning we were there Dave got on the radio at 7:58 am and announced "Good Morning cruisers, its time to switch to channel 72 for the net, oh, wait, we don't have to do that here now!"  Several boats called back their approval - "good one".  During our stay, Chris and Claudia waterskiied behind the dinghies, with Dave and Peter taking turns pulling them around.  We snorkeled, including one really cool adventure - snorkeling "Thunderball Grotto", a large natural cave in a small island in the harbor between Big Major's and Staniel Cay that was featured in the James Bond movie "Thunderball".  Waiting for low slack tide, we snorkeled under the overhanging rock with a couple of feet or so to spare above us and into the cave.  Depths in the cave ranged from a foot or two at the edges to 10 feet deep in the middle, and there were hundreds and hundreds of colorful reef fish eager to take bits of the dog biscuits we carried to feed them.  On a later trip we brought frozen rice balls, which the fish also enjoyed.  The cave above is 20 or 25 feet high, with a hole in the roof that lets sunlight stream in.  The overall effect is beautiful, above and below the water, but it only lasts a half hour or so, because when the tide reverses, a strong current sweeps through the area.  We returned the next day to snorkel the grotto again with our friends from Tauá and their on-board guests Monika and Walter.
We also visited Staniel Cay a couple of times, where there is a small settlement and a marina, for fuel and some light provisions.  After several days of rest and relaxation, on Monday, March 9th, we raised the anchor for the 7 mile sail northwest to Pipe Creek, so named because it is a long narrow channel between multiple islands, with the appearance of a creek.  The trip took three and a half hours because we sailed slowly in the light breeze and then motored very slowly over a long, very shallow half mile sandbank to get into Pipe Creek.  Much of this half mile was in water between 5 and 6 feet deep (our draft is just 4'3"), with stretches with depths right at 4'6", and we even saw a 4.4 reading!  Once we entered the deeper water between a group of islands, we had to weave our way between coral patches.  The way in shown on the chartplotter looked too shallow, so we anchored Liberty in deep water and Nancy and Chris took our dinghy out with a handheld, portable depthsounder to sound out the route.  After 20 minutes or so, they returned to report that the least depth they saw was 5 feet, and they pretty much had the lay of the land (the undersea land, that is) and guided us in to the anchorage.  There was only one other boat anchored in Pipe Creek.   Given the route in, and the current once inside that swings your boat 180 degrees every six hours with the tides, it is a less visited anchorage than many that are more straightforward to approach.  The area is home to several very large expanses of shallow sand, under water at high tide, but exposed at low tide.  In fact, it was amazing how the surrounding rocks "rose up and sunk back into the water" with the tides. There were many beautiful coral and sea fans growing in the waters near our anchored boat, and it was just a very pretty anchorage.  We stayed several days, exploring, hunting, snorkeling and the like, seeing very few other people and enjoying the solitude.  A highlight was exploring the huge sand flats exposed only at low tide.  We'd beach the dinghy at the edge of the flats just off a deep channel, and walk around picking up shells, looking at the hundreds of juvenile conch stranded on the flats when the water went out, and otherwise just hanging out.  The other boat anchored there left after two days, so we had this beautiful anchorage completely to ourselves for a couple of days.
One of our most enjoyable excursions was a several hour, several mile dinghy exploration one day.  We first snorkeled at low slack tide in the Pipe Creek channel, with beautiful coral, sea fans and fish to delight our senses.  Then we made a long dinghy ride out to Twin Cays, a couple of small cays almost connected by a very long sand spit that is exposed at low tide.  When the tide is out, the islands are not more than 50 yards apart, while at high tide, they are over a mile apart.  We were the only ones there, of course, to enjoy the broad, soft white sand, gathering shells and enjoying the sun.  The long sand spit also inspired our modern art coffee table book (that isn't).  At some point while walking out to the very end of the spit, adorned only in swim suits for some and underwear for others (we had been snorkeling, in our wetsuits, and some of us - Dave and Chris - wear only skivvies under our wetsuits, and one of us (Dave) hadn't been farsighted enough to also pack swim trunks for this exploration), we began discussing the effects of the tide on the sand, noting that while only ankle deep at low tide, there would be 3 feet more water at high tide.  We determined that one of us could stand, clad only in skivvies, for 12 hours, taking a photo every hour, as the tide came in, with the water first at ankle level, then shin, then waist, then back to knee, then shin, then ankle.  Next, we surmised the same person (skivvie clad only, still) sitting on a chair, with the tide running its same progression.  Eventually, we had the family sitting on an old couch (later in our travels we saw some perfect examples of the couch we wanted, sitting out in front yards and alongside roads), with the tide and water running its same progression.  Chris then thought of the ringer - Dave sitting on a chair, reading a contract (or other thick sheave of paper), in a sport coat and tie (and swim trunks, or skivvies, as the publisher may prefer), while the water came in and went out.  We had a lot of fun on this topic, wandering about on the sugar white, talcum powder soft sand, ankle deep in clear-blue water, wondering which art institute would give us a $30,000 grant for this unique art project ($30K being just enough to fund another year of cruising, or so), and musing on the salability of our coffee table book - "Cruising Gohlkes on a Sand Spit", or "Skivvy Clad Family in the Tide", or something like that.   After way too much time wandering about deserted sandy isles in our underwear, we returned to Liberty, well-tanned, for another evening alone in a beautiful, deserted anchorage.
Pipe Creek is just south of the Exuma Land and Sea Park, a sprawling stretch of islands and water that is a protected park.  There is no fishing or hunting allowed in the park, and we've heard from many cruisers that there are lots of huge fish and lobster just swimming and crawling around.  At the southern edge of the park there are a couple of small cays called the Rocky Dundas that have good snorkeling and also caves that can be explored at low tide, similar to Thunderball Grotto.  So, on Friday the 13th , we raised anchor in Pipe Creek to sail the few miles north to Fowl Cay, just across the channel from the Rocky Dundas.  On the way, we stopped at a long reef shown on the chart and anchored Liberty so Dave could hunt for some fresh fish.  Unfortunately, on this half mile long reef, Dave found no eating fish at all, but did spot several lion fish, a couple of which he dispatched in the name of public service.   We anchored the big boat off a long sandbar near Fowl Cay and dinghied over to the Rocky Dundas, but it was too rough to snorkel or go in the caves.  The waves were surging in and out, and we were worried that if we snorkeled in, we would be bashed on the rocks.  Since Fowl Cay is so close to the edge of the Land and Sea Park, we thought that some big eating fish may occasionally wander over the boundary (it's not marked well on the seabed, and fish can't read the charts to know where they're protected and where they're not), so we anchored the dinghy among some coral just over the park line.  Chris did spear a nice porgy, but otherwise no big eating fish, no lobster.  We did watch a Bahamian fishing skiff zoom in near the Rocky Dundas, quickly pull up a lobster trap that was on a floating line (but without a marker buoy) and then roar off.  The speed of their actions indicated that unlike the fish, they did know exactly where the edge of the protected area was, and that their trap was in it.
Returning to Liberty after a pretty much unsuccessful dinghy trip, we found the anchorage to be pretty rocky and rolly, and decided we had enough of the day left to sail south back to Big Major's Spot.  We had a nice sail and motorsail, and when we anchored, we discovered we were right next to Gotta Life, a kid/family boat we'd gotten to know in George Town and Long Island.  We visited a while, catching up on recent sailing and comparing notes for future stops.  After getting fuel at Staniel Cay the next morning, we raised anchor and sailed 7 miles to Bitter Guana Cay.  At Bitter Guana we anchored close to a beautiful beach with huge white sand cliffs and caves on one end.  We took a long dinghy ride to snorkel some rocks and reefs that we'd heard were productive, and came home with 4 lobsters, including one slipper (Spanish) lobster.  These are pretty rare, and look nothing like a Caribbean spiny lobster (which looks similar to a Maine lobster but without claws).  The slipper lobster looks more like a big cockroach than a lobster, but because they're mostly tail, they're good to get.  The meat is also sweet and delicious.  Needless to say, we had a good dinner that night - grilled lobster and rice!   The next day at Bitter Guana we met the crew of Silverheels III, a Canadian boat.  Lynn shared her foolproof bread recipe and encouraged Dave to become a more regular baker.   Sitting in the cockpit, we noticed white birds flying and swooping around - white tailed tropic birds!  This was a real treat for Nancy, as she loves to watch these birds.  We'd last seen them at Powell Cay in the Abacos last spring where we'd sailed for the specific purpose of watching them dive off their cliffside nests to fly around.  They spend most of their lives at sea, only coming to land to nest on the cliffs.  At Bitter Guana we also hiked a trail over to the ocean side, where we explored the wild rocky edge of the island and watched waves surge and crash into a craggy cove.  Dave, Chris and Josh built a very large cairn (taller than Dave), and later on the beach side Dave found a  very tall, very lightweight piece of driftwood that he erected as another monument to the fleeting presence of Liberty in the anchorage.   Between the two monuments, Dave spent a good hour or more moving large boulders, and had to take plenty of Advil that night to get to sleep!  The boys explored the sand cliff caves, and hiked to the top of the cliffs as well, while Nancy and Dave strolled the beautiful beach, darting from the iguanas that appeared hoping we had food.
The only downside at Bitter Guana was that it was a rolly anchorage, so late in the afternoon of our second day there, we raised anchor for a 45 minute, 3 mile sail south to Black Point Settlement.  The anchorage there is calm, and popular - there were a couple of dozen boats there, almost a mini-George Town.  We went into town that evening (Sunday) for dinner at a local restaurant, and heard other cruisers broadcast on the VHF radio that the space shuttle was about to launch, during our dinner, and that the launch sequence would be broadcast on the VHF.  The owner  switched her radio to the right channel, and we all listened to the "10, 9, 8, 7, . . . LIFTOFF!" countdown - our second shuttle launch on this trip!  On the way back to Liberty, we noticed high in the very dark sky a weird, bright cloud, like a delayed sunset (but way high up in the sky, not on the horizon).  Back at the boat we got on the radio and confirmed from another cruiser (later we learned he was an ex-NASA pilot) what we had seen - it was the space shuttle exhaust plume, hanging high in the dark sky, illuminated by the rays of the long-set sun, far below the horizon, painted as the most gorgeous, eerie blotch of color in the black night sky.  This makes two space shuttle launch events we've had the opportunity to witness on this cruise.
We spent Monday morning at Black Point, doing laundry, buying provisions, and checking internet, and then we left around 11 am for a short 10 mile sail back to Oven Rock on Great Guana Cay.  Oven Rock is so named because it is a large, freestanding rock, right at the edge of the shore sticking out into the shallow waters of the banks, with a small but very visible opening leading to a large inner cavern, so that the rock looks just like an old Bahamian stone oven.  This is where we had anchored with Socia to explore the dripping cave, and we were meeting up with Peter, Monika and Claudia and guests on Tauá to share our experience the same way Socia shared with us.   By the time we gathered on the shore to explore the cave, our spelunking party had grown to 5 boats, and our band of 16 set out to find the cave.  Armed even with the knowledge to look for the rock cairns before heading off the main path, finding the cavern entrance still required a fair amount of clambering around on the rocky hillside.  Eventually the cry rang out - "here it is!" - when Chris found the opening guarded by the huge tree.  Upon descending into the cave we realized that we had forgotten flashlights, but some others in our party had brought enough to share.  There was much ooohing and aaaahing and general marveling at the wonders of the dripping cave, and Dave and the kids swam in the pools, along with Socio, the Golden Retriever from s/v Demon di Midi.   With our appetites for cave exploration sated, the group headed down the hillside for the path to the oceanside cove (except for Dave, who returned to Liberty to do some work).   On their explorations at the cove the boys found grub sea cucumbers, anemones, fire worms, sea urchins, brittle sea stars, and crabs.  Later that evening we went to Tauá for dinner and visiting.  The next day Nancy and Monika and the kids all went back to the dripping cave to swim and explore some more while Dave stayed back to work.  Swimming in the cool fresh water of the cave was exciting.  Tauá had some underwater lights to swim with that illuminated the stalagmites and the many red shrimp.  After the return trip to the cave, they explored Oven Rock, and we later hosted the crew of Tauá for dinner on Liberty, as the next day we would part ways for a while.
Christopher's friend Erik Loewen from Pearland was coming on Friday to spend his spring break on board Liberty, so on Wednesday March 18th we left Oven Rock at 8 am and sailed 24 miles to Williams Cay near Lee Stocking Island.  We left the protected waters of the Exuma banks through Galliot Cut, hoping to fill the freezer with fish during our 12 or so miles offshore.  About 30 minutes after leaving the cut, Dave was changing out some fishing gear and in the process, had removed a long leader from one of our two poles while still trailing a lure in the water right beside the boat.  Suddenly, a school of mahi-mahi, their brilliant green and blue forms flashing in the sunlight at the surface of the deep blue water, swarmed around the lure trailing in the water from Dave's hand.  Ignoring Dave's fervent cries of "don't bite, don't bite!," one fish bit, and Dave had a fight on his hands.  The leader was about 15 feet long and luckily Dave had his sailing gloves on while he hauled the fish, still green and fighting for his life, up on board.  While Josh scrambled for the gaff and Chris for the wet towel we wrap our new arrivals in, Dave swung the fish over the rail onto the side deck.  Having skipped the long run after taking the hook and the long fight back to boatside, this fish was still quite fresh and full of energy, and with a few violent tailflips and much thrashing about, he broke the hook from the lure and quickly flipped over the side to rejoin his friends.   We had only seconds to lament our loss, as another mahi-mahi hit our second line and the reel screamed out as he stripped off line.  This fish was big, and with Nancy slowing the boat, Josh holding the gaff and Chris the wet towel, Dave slowly reeled him in next to the boat, gaffed him and pulled him up to the deck.  Chris covered the fish with the wet towel, and he immediately quieted down while Dave removed the hook.  Just as this was occurring, we all noticed another sailboat coming very close to our stern.  Chris had put a lure out on our first pole, and it seemed this boat was very near our trailing lure.  The skipper of the other boat was looking over the side, and then turned his boat away.  Sensing something was amiss, we reeled in the first line, to find what we had expected - this other boat had sailed (motored, actually) over our lure and cut it off with his prop!   Both boats were sailing well offshore, in the wide ocean, and there was never any need for him to come so close to us at all, especially when it was obvious we were fighting fish.  In the ensuing confusion, we completely forgot about our still live mahi-mahi, quietly resting on our rear deck, wrapped in a wet towel, until we heard an ominous thumping.  Dave rushed to the back of the boat, in time to save the towel and watch our dinner flip over the side.  Aaaargh!   Two of our favorite fish, boarded and practically on the grill, gone!  This goes down as our worst day of fishing ever.
For the next 10 miles, of course, we got not a single bite, and we entered Adderly Cut at Lee Stocking Island still lamenting our lost fish (and discussing whether to thaw chicken or a pork roast for dinner).  We motorsailed slowly around Lee Stocking Island to Williams Cay, where we dropped the anchor in 6 feet of crystal clear water into soft sand, white cliffs to our left and two beautiful beaches off our bow.  During the day we had been talking on the VHF radio with the sailboat Whisper, a 27' Albin Vega with Hans and Kristen on board.  Kristen was a paralegal in the energy practice group in Skadden's Washington, DC office, and had gotten to know Dave (through email and telephone, never in person) after we returned from our first cruise in 2005 and while they were planning to go cruising.  We've been following their blog while they cruised through the Bahamas to the Caribbean ( ).  Now they're on their way back to civilization and graduate school.  They sailed Whisper into the Williams Cay anchorage and dropped the hook right in front of Liberty, and we joined them on Whisper to visit a while before going ashore to explore.  From the quiet beach on the anchorage side of the island, we hiked up a trail to the craggy cliffs overlooking the deep blue waters of Exuma Sound, and on our way back we hiked down into the open clearing of a salt pond.  Completely surrounded by trees, the salt pond is a low area into which salt water occasionally accumulates before evaporating.  The salt left behind precludes any growth, save a small mangrove shoot or two.  On our walk across the pond we also discovered, much to Nancy's dismay, that the very dry-looking pond was wet underneath the crust, and into the mire we sank!  After making our way back to the beach and scrubbing the muck from our shoes, we returned to Liberty and hosted Whisper on board for drinks and a potluck dinner while the sun set off our stern.
Early the next morning, we raised anchor to continue south to the settlement of Barreterre where we would pick up Erik, and Whisper headed north, bound for the USA and school and eventually jobs and civilization.  We had decided to cross the shallow banks to Barreterre and taxi to George Town to pick up Erik (as suggested by our good friend Bill on Charisma), rather than sail all the way to George Town and risk getting stuck there by weather. We stopped at Rat Cay at the Children's Bay Cay cut so Dave, Chris and Josh could snorkel and hunt on a reef just off the end of Children's Bay Cay.  Dave speared a nice grouper, then while diving deep to look in lobster holes he spotted the waving antennae of a big lobster hiding under a ledge in the coral about 20 feet deep.  After diving several times to check the location of the bug, he speared it with his pole spear.  It was only when he wrestled it out of the hole that Dave realized it was by far the biggest lobster he had ever speared.  Back at Liberty we measured the tail at well over a foot and figure the bug weighed in at about five pounds.  We saved the tail to grill with Eric and boiled the head to make a broth and to pick out the meat.  On smaller Caribbean spiny lobsters we generally eat only the tails, but this one was big enough that we got nearly half a pound of meat from the head, legs and antennae stalks.
By noon we had the anchor up to motor in to the small settlement of Barreterre, located on a cay of the same name at the far northwest end of Great Exuma Island.   The route in to Barreterre is shallow, so we can get in safely only with "tide help."  With tides typically running three feet above the low water indicated on our charts, it is not uncommon for boaters to pass through shallow areas at high tide.  While the chart may show a depth of only 4 feet (at low water), at high tide there may actually be 7 or even 8 feet of water at that area.   With the tide still high, we raised anchor and slowly motored in to Barreterre, seeing depths of less than 5 feet at times (Liberty's draft is 4', 3").  We anchored in less than 6 feet just off the town dock and went to shore to arrange a taxi to get Eric the next day.

We had an amazing two weeks exploring the Exumas, spending time with old friends and getting to know new ones, and enjoying new anchorages, new experiences, each other's company and the cruising life.
Bird on coconut feeder at Staniel Cay
Entrance to the "dripping cave"
Stalactites & Stalagmites meet under water
Red shrimp in the water
Tasting bucket covered with
minerals from the dripping water

Ocean cove on Great Guana Cay
Brittle stars found in the tide pools
Red Warty sea anemone
 contracted because he is
out of the water

Pigs great us upon our arrival at Piggy Beach
Piggy Bliss
Roger,  Claudia, Elliott, Ayla, Josh, and Chris
Marshmallow roast on the beach
Chris waterskiing w/ Peter & Claudia
Entrance to Thunderball Grotto
Sun streaming in from
above the grotto

Underwater at Thunderball Grotto
Feeding the fish in the grotto
Liberty anchored at Pipe Creek
Long Spined Sea Urchin in the tide pools
King Helmet stranded
by the tide

Underwater at Pipe Creek Channel
Chris & Josh at Twin Cays
Twin Cays at low tide
Striped Sea Star
Cairn we built on Bitter Guana Cay
Dave's driftwood monument
Iguanas wander the beach at Bitter Guana Cay
Oceanside of Bitter Guana Cay
Slipper (Spanish) Lobster
Liberty at Bitter Guana Cay
with cliffs in the background

Oven Rock
Josh, Dave, & Socia
in the Dripping Cave pool

Nancy, Chris & Josh with Monika,
Peter & Claudia at the Dripping Cave

The anchorage at William's Cay
Oceanside at William's Cay
Salt Pond on interior of William's Cay
Dave, Chris & Josh returning
from a successful hunting trip

This big guy weighed in around 5lbs!
Nancy on bow-watch across the
shallow waters of Exuma Sound

Sunset over Exuma Sound
Josh, Claudia, & Socia
explore Great Guana Cay

The ocean crashes
into this cove at
Bitter Guana Cay

The tide pools at the ocean side of Pipe Creek
Sunset over Pipe Creek
Exploring Great Guana Cay with friends
Shallow, clear, blue-green
waters of Exuma Sound,
dotted with cays

Dave peers through a hole
in the limestone at Twin Cays