Excited to be on our way, we set off for Rum Cay, about 30 miles to the northeast. We had heard mixed things about Rum Cay, but the guidebook was glowing, and, as you might guess, Don felt there was no way we could pass up visiting a place named Rum Cay.
We anchored out in the open roadstead with just a few feet of water under the keel between us and miles of white sand bottom. Sharing the anchorage was a 76 Nordhaven and Cat Ppalu, a large go-fast catamaran that I recognized from the old days in the Virgins.
Don and I did a long swim to cool down and burn some energy. The sand with occasional patches of grass is mesmerizing, but not very busy. One stingray was our sole wildlife sighting!
In the evening, dressed up for dinner out, we dinghied over to Sumner Marina, at the very east end of the long bay. Probably once a charming little cruising center, we discovered that the marina is currently defunct. So much for the Guidebooks! Several boats are tied up there, nonetheless, despite damaged docks and no services, and several large nurse sharks patrol the waters. One of the boats in the marina is said to be a fellow who has just taken over the lease for the place. So perhaps there is hope for next season.
After discovering the sad state of the marina, we found ourselves all dressed up with no place to go! So, we backtracked to the town dock, hoping to catch a bit of local life.
It was Sunday, late afternoon when we clambered ashore. A bunch of guys had a volleyball game going over a net stretched across the sand road. Across the road was Kaye's bar, a very local hangout, with a sand floor inside and out. It looked plenty iffy, but the proprietor, Kaye, was a lovely warm woman who had me sign the guest book, and we managed to get cold Kilick beers and just enough intact chairs for the four of us to sit and enjoy them beneath a spreading almond tree. "No, THE almond tree," said Dru, a Norwegian girl who has stopped off in Rum Cay indefinitely, who wandered over from her group of male pals to chat with the visitors.
The afternoon's moment of drama came shortly after when Dru's dog took off to chase a police jeep rolling through where the volleyball net had been moments before, and an older dog following the younger pup proved not as agile at the chase and got clipped even though the police jeep was barely moving! The thump and yelp caused all dog lovers to leap to their feet in dismay. Fortunately, the dog seemed relatively non-plussed, with just some cuts and nothing evidently broken. She was still able to leap into Dru's Jeep! Good thing because I doubt there was anything like a vet on the island!
One wonders that an island of 70 residents warrants a police jeep!?!?!
For food, Dru suggested we try Ocean View, a yellow house on down the street away. although the house was dark when we approached, Ruby, the owner, welcomed us ins, turned on the fans, and promptly pulled out some icy cold beverages. Ruby was another super warm Bahamian lady who had, in addition to the cold drinks, Internet and some food, but the place was awesomely hot. Fans turned lazily overhead, but do nothing to cool. Silver air-conditioning duct work wound through the rafters, but obviously was not in use. Sweat was dripping off every one of us, and beading up on my iPad.
Later, just about the time we were finished, a big charter group came in from Ppalu, obviously well known to Ruby. With their arrival, the place came alive enough that they fired up the generator AND air con!
Such is the excitement of a Sunday evening on a small island.
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