Tucking Into Alabaster Bay

After watching the weather and picking our moment, we made our way to Alabaster Bay in Eleuthera, looking for a place to tuck in for a few nights.

The ride in? A little sporty. Not the kind that makes you question your life choices—but enough to keep you on your toes and remind you that the ocean always has a say.  I found it invigorating and fun.

We arrived, scoped out our spot, and dropped the anchor, but it didn't bite.

So we tried again. Alas, still nothing. Third time?

Finally.

She held.

We exhaled, settled in for the evening, and let the boat gently rock us into a well-earned rest.

The next day brought one of those moments that reminds you why this lifestyle is so special.

We met a couple on a monohull nearby—kind, easygoing, the kind of people you instantly feel comfortable around. In the course of conversation, we mentioned we’d blown a 200-amp fuse. Without hesitation, they offered us two of theirs, and wouldn’t take a dime for them.

That’s boating.

It’s a community built on shared experiences, mutual respect, and the understanding that any day, it could be you in need. These aren’t just quick encounters—they’re instant friendships formed on the water, where everyone knows we’re all in this together.

After heartfelt thank-yous and good conversation, we headed ashore. Our destination: an abandoned naval base and a stretch of pink sand beach we’d heard about.

It was a hot day, and of course, I lead us the wrong way down the busy Queen's Hwy. So much for being the navigator. Once we realized we'd gone the wrong way, we about faced and found the base itself had seen better days. Time and the elements had taken their toll, leaving only outer walls and fragments behind. We poked around what we could, but there wasn’t much left to explore.

That being said, my imagination was fueled by the thoughts of what once transpired on those grounds. 

The beach, however, was absolutely worth it. Soft sand, gentle waves, and that unmistakable Bahamian beauty that makes you stop and take it all in. We lingered there, soaking up every second, feeling that quiet reassurance settle in—

This is why we chose this life.

We returned to Plot Twist that evening feeling accomplished. We’d handled new conditions, explored somewhere new, and ended the day with that deep sense of contentment that only comes from being exactly where you’re meant to be.

The night was calm. Mostly. Except for one lingering issue… The anchor was dragging. The good news was the wind had died down and there was no where we'd go but out into the ocean if it slipped anymore. With anchor alarms set, we went to sleep.

The next morning, we tried to anchor in a new spot. Once.
Twice.
Three times.

Still no solid set.

The hard-packed sand below us just wasn’t giving us what we needed, and after enough attempts, we knew it was time to make a call. As much as we liked the spot, it wasn’t secure.

So we pulled the anchor—again—and set our sights on Rock Sound, looking for a safer place to ride out the next blow.

And as it turns out…

That decision would be one of our best yet.