Eleuthera

Current Cut to Hatchet Bay

The next morning we headed towards Current Cut, a small pass that gives access to the southern part of Eleuthera.

The trick here is to get to the cut around high water to avoid the strong currents. But, with no tide table specifically for Current Cut, it’s a bit of a guess as to what you are going to face on arrival. Fortunately, we went through with only one knot against us and a relatively calm sea. Once through we changed course for Hatchet Bay, an all-around sheltered anchorage with a buttock-clenching narrow entrance. 

We counted the number of boats in the anchorage on the one hand. The reason might be that there’s not a lot happening in Hatchet Bay. Not at this time of year anyway. 

Hatchet Bay does, however, have a fabulously understated takeaway operated through a hatch carved out of the wall of a bright pink house. A jovial woman there acts as the front of house, cook, and minder of several children. The menu here might be small but the place is popular. While waiting for our food (a safe choice of cheeseburgers and fries), a steady stream of customers came along to collect their dinner for the night. Only when we got back to the boat did we realise how good the food is. I know we are only talking burgers here, but they are excellent.

Glass Window

Earlier that day we went for a bike ride. Glass Window bridge is a small strip of land separating the Atlantic from the Bight of Eleuthera. The photographs we had seen of it, showing the contrasting colours between the two bodies of sea, looked incredible – and perhaps a little photoshopped. So we had to take a look for ourselves.

We carted the Bromptons in the dinghy to the rough dock near to town, heaved them up onto the wharf and set off along the Queen’s Highway towards the bridge. Although Google Maps tells you that it’s 10 miles away, what it doesn’t show is that the road has more hills than the Welsh valleys. It almost broke us.  And there’s no cafe or bar at the bridge – it’s just the bridge. It’s worth the ride though. The views are as good as we expected and maybe those photographs weren’t Photoshopped after all.

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An American couple we met at the bridge told us of the Queen’s Bath’s, just up the road from where we came. So, we stopped on the way to take a look. The landscape here is almost moon-like, but how to get to those pools that constitute the baths I have no idea.

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You don’t find one of these every day

I kept my eyes on the road on the way back, partly to look for potholes, and partly to conclude what the favourite local beer is based on the empties thrown out of car windows (Kalik won). And as we approached Gregory Town, I spotted a mobile phone lying amongst the bottles and takeaway containers on the side of the road. The phone looked new, and it still had battery life, so I stuffed it in my pocket and carried on back to Hatchet Bay.

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The police station closed before we got to town, so we took the phone back with us, charged it up and waited to see if anyone would call. Someone did. But all we could hear was music and rustling – probably a call from someone’s trousers. And with the wind howling the next day, there was no way we were going ashore. There are limits to this good-samaritan stuff you know.