The anchorage at Double-Breasted is almost totally protected off Sand Cay, which becomes a formidable beach at low tide. 
We had it to ourselves for two nights.
Both sunrises and sunsets here are spectacular.
The beaches are soft white sand and warm water.
At low tide, we went ashore on Sand Cay and walked the beach.
Our next stop was Manjack (AKA: Munjack or Nunjack) Cay where we anchored between the main Cay and Crab Cay on the south end.
The south part of the island is owned a by a couple who welcome boaters to come ashore and enjoy the cay. They've set up beach chairs on the beach and made paths through the forest to the beach on the ocean side. They even supply a free and strong WiFi signal throughout the anchorage.
There are often minor rain showers in the middle of a sunny day which produce rainbows everywhere.
The main beach was being used to careen (or ground) a large sailboat when we arrived.
Our own anchorage was peaceful and serene off Crab Cay which has its own beaches.
Like many other places it in the Abacos, it shows signs of development that either went bad or were wiped out in a hurricane.
We had it to ourselves for two nights.Both sunrises and sunsets here are spectacular.The beaches are soft white sand and warm water.At low tide, we went ashore on Sand Cay and walked the beach.Our next stop was Manjack (AKA: Munjack or Nunjack) Cay where we anchored between the main Cay and Crab Cay on the south end.The south part of the island is owned a by a couple who welcome boaters to come ashore and enjoy the cay. They've set up beach chairs on the beach and made paths through the forest to the beach on the ocean side. They even supply a free and strong WiFi signal throughout the anchorage.There are often minor rain showers in the middle of a sunny day which produce rainbows everywhere.The main beach was being used to careen (or ground) a large sailboat when we arrived. Our own anchorage was peaceful and serene off Crab Cay which has its own beaches. Like many other places it in the Abacos, it shows signs of development that either went bad or were wiped out in a hurricane. 
Even on a cloudy morning, the sunrise is not to be missed.
Only a few miles south of Manjack is Green Turtle Cay with two excellent harbours (that's the way they spell it here so....when in Rome....) and a pretty little town an easy dinghy ride away.
As we were heading into Black Sound, we got a radio call from brother Jock who was sailing up from the south, so we went out to take pictures of him under full sail. "Home at Last" (HAL for short) looked great!
A local charter fisherman, who was gamming on the fuel dock with a couple of other locals, offered us his spare mooring at the head of the harbor. Both fuel and water are metered. Fuel is around $5.00/gallon (US) and water is up to $.25 per gallon. (The difference between a CAY and an ISLAND is that islands have natural fresh water and the cays do not. On the cays, you get either rain or r/o (reverse osmosis) water.)
It doesn't get much better than this!
We took the short dinghy ride to New Plymouth, where Jock gave us the nickel tour.
Like much of the Abacos, New Plymouth was settled by Loyalists during the American Revolution and the architecture shows its New England origins.
There are flowers all over the place, although the Bahamas have never been able to support any viable commercial agriculture
The views are spectacular -- for both the living and the dead! (We read that they don't need any more cemetaries because they get washed away so often by hurricanes, so they just start fresh in the old location.)
We plan to continue our tour of the Abacos only as far as Little Harbour, taking a look at all the places that have anchorages or mooring fields. (The many "Destination Resorts" have little appeal to us or our cruising budget.) After we've done the tour, we'll find a spot to settle down for a while. Right now, the quiet anchorage at Manjack, with its easy access to the more protected harbours and supplies at Green Turtle, looks awfully good!More to follow----
Contact us at: sesame@snet.net Communication is spotty here. Our cell phones (Verizon) are incompatible with local systems -- and would be prohibitively expensive if they weren't -- have been turned off. Free WiFi, which Jock says was common last year, has been hard to find. They alternative is "Out Island Internet" for $20/day, $40/week, or $120/month and is is quite slow and spotty. Where we can get WiFi, we can use Skype for outgoing calls -- free with folks who have Skype and about $.03/minute if we call them on their regular phone) and Windows Live Messenger for messaging and video conferencing with friends and relatives who have it.
To the more basic "Mine is bigger than yours" syndrome.
To high rises threatening to overtake simple multi-million dollar winter "cottages".
We did a major study of the variety of posted "Manatee Zones" in Florida. These purportedly are designed to protect the "endangered" manatee from boats by limiting speed and wakes in various areas.
Our research leads us to the conclusion that manatees are extremely gregarious, but they are also extremely snobbish. There are MANY more manatee zones in the vicinity of megamansions and high class condos than around trailer parks or unpopulated areas. (There was a recent movement to take the manatee off the endangered list which failed. One wonders what the wealthy folks would have done to keep the No Wake zones in their neighborhoods!)
We went past the Lighhouse Point condo of our friends, Pete and Sue Boden, who have a spectacular view of the ICW and the mega-mansions on the other side.
Our goal was one of our favorite anchorages off Oleta State Park and Florida International University in North Miami.
It has all kinds of creeks to explore by dinghy. Most are parts of mangrove swamps. The red mangrove drops new roots/trunks from its branches and, thusly, "walks" across the shallows, creating traps for sediment, flotsam, and jetsom and creating new land. In order to keep the creeks and canals from being over-run, the mangroves must be continually cut back.
There are a few liveaboards anchored here. Some are seasonal. Some are students at the University. And one has been here for at least 5 years. Apparently, he does freelance computer work to make ends meet. (He successfully reprogrammed brother Jock's laptop which had become extremely logey.)
Yes, we caught up with Jock again and had him and his friend Val (who flew down for a week from Connecticut) aboard a few times for cocktails or coffee.
One day they had a couple of big Dragon Boats, complete with a drum-beater in the bow, in the harbor. 
After having "staged" for a crossing to the Bahamas on our other two trips south and never finding the appropriate "weather window" for us wimps, we finally found what looked to be the perfect 3-day window. Jock left during the first day and had a somewhat lumpy trip across. We waited for the second day and, with the exception of our passage through the somewhat violently tidal outletting of Bakers Haulover Inlet (we'll pick a different inlet the next time), had a very quiet ride across, averaging about 12 knots all the way. (We normally cruise at 7 knots.)
The waves were all under 2 feet -- very much like a summer weekend ride across Long Island Sound.
After about 6 hours, we sighted West End.
And took a slip for a few days. (The trade-off for travelling on the second day of the window was that we either had to leave again the next morning or stay for a few days as the next norther came through. Brother Jock got a couple of extra days to travel so he's ahead of us again.)
We looked around at the scenery.
Renting a slip at a relatively high price at least gave us access to virtually everything at the resort (for which SHORE customers were paying FAR more).
We drank frozen rum drinks at the Tiki Bar, ate fresh conch burgers (FANTASTIC!), and went for a swim. There was a rare sighting of the famous and elusive "West End Endomorph".
To celebrate our arrival, the Old Bahama Bay Resort and Marina put on a spectacular fireworks display at midnight on the day of our arrival. (The fact that we crossed on New Years Eve was purely coincidental.)
As predicted, the northerly came through with a vengeance, so we're "stuck" here for a few days spending the kids' inheritance while we wait for the waves to die down for our next venture toward Great Sale Cay, Double-Breasted Cay, and Green Turtle Cay. (That's "keeee" to the newbies.) While we're waiting, we'll try a few more rum drinks, probably take a bus into Freeport, nap, have a few more rum drinks, lie in the sun, swim in the warm ocean or warmer fresh-water pool, nap, and have a rum drink.
We took the dinghy out toward the lighthouse and the ocean inlet
We took a grainy picture of the 30 or so lighted kayaks who paddled through the mooring field singing carols one night.
We have stocked our larders and are waiting for some mail to arrive. In a day or two, we'll start the two-day trip down to a favorite anchorage in North Miami where we will probably re-unite with brother Jock and start waiting for a weather window for a crossing to West End in the Bahamas. If a window doesn't arrive, we're still in a delightful spot with beaches and easy access to supplies. We are only a couple of hours away from comfortable anchorages directly off multi-zillion dollar mansions built on dredged land about 3 feet above sea level. South Beach and its various attractions are minutes away.
