Riding It Out in Rock Sound

 Riding It Out in Rock Sound

After learning a few lessons the hard way, we made our way to Rock Sound, determined to find a spot that would give us the protection we needed for the next blow.

We nudged our way into some of the shallowest water we’d dared to take Plot Twist, inching forward carefully until we found a place we hoped would keep us tucked in close enough to shore to block the worst of the wind.

And to our delight, it hooked and remained in place for days with zero dragging. 

The wind came, just as expected, along with an unexpected party at a restaurant ashore Apparently, they had their own plans for the evening, ones that involved music, laughter, and a full-on party that carried across the water like we’d been invited… whether we wanted to attend or not.

And by “evening,” I mean until 2:00 a.m. I was lying there in the dark, listening to the bass thump across the anchorage, asking ourselves if we’d chosen the right spot. Thankfully, the next day, Sunday, brought beautiful silence, excluding a little wind howling through masts.

Once the weather settled, we climbed into the dinghy and headed ashore, ready to stretch our legs and see what this part of Eleuthera had to offer That meant another walk along Queen’s Highway. But this time, there was some sidewalks or a grassy shoulder to keep us a safe distance from the traffic.

We made our way to the Cathedral Caves, tucked just a short distance down the road, and spent the afternoon exploring their towering rock formations and shadowed passageways. It was one of those places that makes you slow down without even realizing it. The quiet, cool caves were full of natural beauty.

Of course, I couldn’t stop there, I convinced Chris to make one more stop: a nearby blue hole. From a distance, it looked intriguing. Up close… a little less inviting.

The surface had that dark, almost oily look that made both of us admire it from a distance instead of jumping in for a swim.

By the time we made our way back to the boat, the day felt like a win. We’d ridden out another blow, explored somewhere new, met more boaters along the way—those easy, instant friendships that seem to form out here without effort.

It was the kind of day that reminds you you’re getting the hang of this life, or at least starting to, but as always, the next decision was waiting.

Do we head straight to Spanish Wells to meet up with friends, or do we take a chance and make a run for the Exumas?