Hatchet Bay: Gravel Anchors, Cave Adventures, and Grandpa Roach

Hatchet Bay made us work for it.

Dropping the anchor took three attempts before we finally got a solid hold in the gravel and sand. Each time we thought she was set, the chain shifted, and we had to try again. But eventually the Mantus dug in, and just in time.

The blow arrived not long after.

At its peak, we clocked about 37 mph winds, the strongest we’ve experienced at anchor so far. Thankfully, Hatchet Bay offered excellent protection. There was no swell, and despite the wind howling overhead, the boat sat comfortably in the water. It was one of those moments where you feel deeply grateful for a well-chosen anchorage.

After a few days aboard, we were ready to stretch our legs. We took the dinghy ashore so we could explore town.

Hatchet Bay itself feels like a place caught between what it once was and what it might become again someday. The people we met were incredibly friendly, but much of the town is quiet now. There’s still a haul-out facility and dry storage, but the pier is surrounded by sunken boats, and there are no wet slips anymore. The dinghy dock itself is a bit dilapidated — though sturdy enough for us to climb up from the dinghy.

Once we realized there wasn’t much happening in town, I convinced Chris we should walk to the Hatchet Bay Caves.

The distance wasn’t the problem — only two or three miles. The real challenge was the road. It’s a two-lane stretch with almost no shoulder, meaning we had to walk right along the pavement while cars occasionally zipped past faster than was entirely comfortable.

About halfway there, a friendly local pulled over and offered us a ride. Apparently, this was very common on the islands, though it has slowed quite a bit since COVID. He didn’t ask for anything in return but did offer to sell us some frozen lobster tails.

For us, that sounded like a fair trade.

So we hopped in, bought the lobster tails, and headed to the caves.

As an explorer at heart, I was thrilled. We chose to self-guide through the caves, so we followed a rope through the darkness with our flashlights leading the way.

Right at the entrance, we were greeted by a baby roach, which gave me a moment of pause.

I took a deep breath, scanned the ceiling and walls for any parents or extended family members, and decided I could do this.

At first, the cave walls were covered in graffiti, but deeper inside, that faded away, and the caverns became truly beautiful — formations of stalactites and stalagmites, hidden chambers, and even a lower level filled with water that I absolutely had to climb down and explore.

At the far end of the cave, a rope ladder hung upward toward another opening. I attempted to climb it but discovered I was just a little too short to reach one of the steps, since one wooden rung was missing. Defeated but still excited, we turned back toward the entrance.

That’s when Chris started snickering behind me.

“What?” I asked.

“Well,” he said calmly, “your light woke someone up.”

I froze.

“Woke what up?”

“A roach ran from your flashlight… but then it circled back and chased after you.”

Let’s just say my walking speed through the cave increased dramatically.

Chris had wisely decided not to tell me until after the roach disappeared, because he didn’t want me panicking in the dark and hurting myself.

Smart man.

We climbed back out of the cave into the bright sunshine, leaving Grandpa Roach safely behind us.

Unfortunately, our luck with rides had run out. The trip back to the dinghy was entirely on foot, bringing our total walking distance for the day to 6.5 miles. Which I was happy to do, excluding the stray bullet fast cars.

Still, the adventure was worth every step.

And the lobster tails?

Well… let’s just say those became dinner that night aboard Plot Twist.

But the weather window ahead was shifting again — and the next decision we made would send us somewhere we hadn’t planned to go at all.

Stay tuned to discover the most beautiful and favorite anchorage to date. 🌊⚓️