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Travel Memories of a Caribbean Cruise

The charm and challenge of the Exumas

A Caribbean cruise! A holiday in the Bahamas! The idea conjures up images of lounging on the promenade deck, sipping a cool rum punch while your luxury ship glides past tropical islands in a warm, turquoise sea. But, depending on your choice of boats, not all Caribbean cruises are equal.

It is day twelve of our two-week cruise from Georgetown to Nassau and from the cockpit of a klepper kayak, my numb butt two inches from the briny, the view is very different from that in the tourist brochure. Sitting in the trough of a six-foot swell Betty and I can see nothing but water and sky. We brace, let the wave slide under us, and for a moment, suspended on its crest, we can see the other four boats of our flotilla and the low profile of Norman's Cay far in the distance. For over an hour we have been battling a head wind which has now grown strong enough to send wisps of spray streaming off the tops of the waves. In the lead boat Bob, our Ecosummer guide, is signaling that we are giving up on Norman's Cay and heading for shore – the third time so far that we have had to abandon our planned destination and take refuge from the weather.

Bob picks a spot protected by some off-shore rocks and slides expertly onto the beach of Little Wax Cay. We follow and are glad he is there to steady our boat as the receding wave tries to suck us off the beach and back into the surf. Getting out of a folding kayak with a spray-skirt around your middle and a five gallon jug of water between your knees is not a graceful manoeuvre but one by one everyone makes it ashore without dumping. By now we've become an efficient working team – it takes six people to carry each of the heavily loaded double kayaks. Straps in place, all together – "one, two, three lift!" Within minutes of hitting the beach our five boats are safely parked above the tide-line and there is time to relax and stretch cramped muscles before setting up camp.

Little Wax Cay, is one of 365 small islands and Cays that make up the Exumas Chain which stretches for 120 miles through the central Bahamas. Like most of the other Cays, Little Wax is uninhabited and except for a few curious iguanas and skitterish curly-tailed lizards we have the beach and the island to ourselves.

It has been almost two weeks since we flew into Georgetown on Great Exuma Island and began our Bahamas adventure. After checking in at the Peace and Plenty Beach Inn we met Bob and Gabriel, our two guides, our English friends Linda and Richard, and the other four travellers who had signed on for Ecosummer's 14-day "Complete Exumas" trip.

That evening Bob briefed us on what to expect and he didn’t pull any punches. We would be paddling our double, sail-equipped, klepper kayaks for about 100 miles from Great Exuma Island to Allan's Cay, crossing long stretches of open water, and camping wherever we found ourselves at the end of a day. Depending on wind and sea conditions the trip could be a breeze or a battle and we might not even make it all the way to Allan's Cay.

The next day we drove from Georgetown across the island to Exuma Sound and spent the morning assembling and packing the boats under the watch of a dozen curious kids. Bob gave us a final safety briefing, some tips on handling the boats and sails, and presented everyone with a "goodie bag" for their cockpit. The "goodie bag", more than just an assortment of high energy treats, is a metaphor of self control. It can be gobbled up on the first long day, rationed to last the trip, or hoarded as a hedge against some future disaster.

The first few days were a breeze – literally. A gentle southeast wind and moderate sea allowed us to put up the sails. Even though it has no keel the long slender hull of a klepper tracks well in a following or quartering breeze and we spent several relaxing hours each day letting the wind propel us through incredibly clear water. Because we were making good progress there were leisurely lunches in the shade of palm trees, long walks on shell-strewn beaches, hikes to the surf-pounded rocks on the windward side of the Cays, and snorkeling with schools of brightly coloured fish. We camped on the soft sand of tiny uninhabited Cays, dined on nourishing and tasty meals concocted by Gabriel over an open fire, and had energy left over for evening sing-songs accompanied by Bob’s concertina.

On day six, half way up Great Guana Cay, things changed. The wind swung around to the north and we were faced with a raging gale that stopped us dead. Bob lead us into the shelter of Jack's Bay Cove where we beached the boats and waited out the worst of the storm. By late afternoon the wind had died down to a stiff breeze and we were able to make it to South Gaulin Cay near a large colony of night herons. It was dark by the time camp was set up but Gabriel, with the aid of a head-lamp, managed to turn out a great meal topped off with cherry-cockroach cheesecake. The small, almond-sized roaches, not part of the original recipe, are into everything but they are clean, harmless, and easy to flick off into the sand.

The next morning the wind was still blowing but, inspired by the prospect of a cool beer at the Happy People Marina, we decided to push on to Staniel Cay regardless. The harbour was full of fancy yachts, wind generators spinning wildly atop their masts as they rode out the storm. After a refreshing hour in the local pub we paddled across to Thunderball Cave, put on our snorkel gear, and slid into a surrealistic underground world. A shaft of light streaming through a hole in the vaulted ceiling of the cave penetrated the glassy surface of the water illuminating teeming schools of small colourful fish. I followed Gabriel into a passageway leading from the main grotto. At first there was room for our snorkels between the roof and the water surface. Where the two met we did a shallow duck dive through the submerged portion of the cave and came up in the surf on the opposite side of the Island. It was one of the most memorable moments of the trip.

By the time we dragged ourselves away from Thunderball Cave it was late and we set up camp on a nearby beach called "Big Major Spot". As soon as we landed we were confronted with a gaggle of feral pigs who viewed our kayaks as floating troughs. Turn your back and they were into everything. A large sow snatched Richard's goody bag and with him in hot pursuit she careened around camp trying to avoid his stick and round up her litter of tiny confused piglets. Before it was over a startled piglet squealed and mom turned and took after Richard – so much for hoarding your goody bag. Richard's carefully guarded cache disappeared into the bush with the pigs.

North of Staniel Cay we entered the 176-square-mile Exuma Cays Land and Sea Park, a protected area where travel is permitted only by special arrangement with local authorities. Despite continuing strong winds and periodic rain squalls we managed several interesting stops within the park – a visit with the park warden on Warderick Wells Cay, a hike to the ruins of an 18th-century Loyalist settlement on Hawksbill Cay, and a snorkel exploration on one of the reefs.

Then, only six miles and one day from our destination a raging storm pinned us down in a makeshift camp on Little Wax Cay. During the night driving rain, accompanied by almost continuous thunder and lightning, filled the boats with water and soaked everything in camp. By morning the rain had stopped. We wrung out our gear and had a relatively easy paddle and sail to Norman's Cay where we again faced a strong north wind and ominously big seas. Bob agonized over whether or not we should continue or call for a pickup at Norman’s Cay. We were pleased but apprehensive when he decided to go for it. Paddling flat out into the wind it took almost two hours to do the last two miles. But we made it, arriving at Allan's Cay exhausted, elated, and with a satisfying sense of achievement. A hoard of iguanas, shameless scroungers, scurried down the beach to greet us and watched hopefully as we set up our last camp and dismantled the boats.

Next morning the folded kayaks and our gear were loaded onto a small cabin cruiser that came to pick us up for the 35 mile run back to Nassau. Before leaving I got out my goody bag, fed the last of the raisins to the iguanas, and silently said goodbye to the Exumas. As we pulled into Nassau harbour, past three towering cruise ships, some of the tourists waved from high up on the promenade deck. I waved back and thought how different their experience must have been. But tired and grubby as we were not one of us would have traded our Bahamas experience for theirs.

For more information: Ecosummer Website, www.ecosummer.com.