West Channel, the narrow entrance to the harbor at Spanish Wells, North Eleuthera, is busy at 0900 on a Friday morning. Outbound, we took turns with other boats coming and going through the shoal-prone but well-marked opening. We encountered a large freighter and hailed for instructions – the Captain told us to hold our current course and wished us a good day. Our goal was south; heading towards Tranquility Bay in central Eleuthera. We were on a quest to find the Bahamian connection to Gozzard Yachts. A place we took to calling Gozz.
The seas offered a slight swell on 7 knot winds from the southwest. On our nose, so no sails. It was just enough air to require 2000 rpms on the diesel to make 6-6½ knots—the speed we needed to stick to a critical timetable.
Current Cut
There is no yellow brick road to Gozz. We needed to get to the Bight of Eleuthera, the large, shallow, turquoise bay that runs from the south side of North Eleuthera to the Y-shaped southern tip of Eleuthera. Getting to the Bight requires squeezing through a notorious channel called Current Cut.
Off the northmost point of Meeks Patch Island and its flashing white light, we steered south. Meeks Patch is a low, rocky string bean of land bordered by white sand beaches. Its northern tip lies 1¾ nm southwest of the West Channel Passage.
Timing is Everything
We followed the charted route skirting shallow water west of Meeks Patch and several small cays to get to Current Cut, two hours out of Spanish Wells at 6 knots. Holding a steady course and speed were essential because we needed to get through the cut before the tide changed at noon.
Current Cut is the deep, narrow channel that separates the narrow peninsula running southwest from the northern end of Eleuthera and Current Island. Tidal forces of the Atlantic Ocean to the north and Exuma Sound to the south squeeze through this pass. The results are notoriously fast and turbulent tidal fluxes that seesaw back and forth between limestone cliffs. The current runs south toward Exuma at high tide, and north, toward the Atlantic at low tide. Over millennia, this seesaw action carved a navigable channel that is best negotiated between tides, when the water flows through it at slower speeds in either direction.
The cut is 30-50 feet deep and 300 feet wide. It’s wider than West Channel in Spanish Wells, but submerged rocks and the fast current discourage boats from entering if there is already one boat in the channel. The distance through the cut is about half a nautical mile. The current can run 8-to-10 knots at high tide, we’re told! The tide is the primary thing to know and is calculated by following tide tables in Nassau, some 60 nautical miles west. Wind speed and direction are also factors in a safe transit, but the tides are paramount.
Sécurité on the VHF
We also needed to know about boat traffic going through the cut. Boats typically broadcast a “Sécurité” warning over VHF radio that they are entering the cut as they approach it. Minimally, they broadcast approach direction and ETA. If there are more than one watercraft approaching, the number and types of vessels are announced. As we approached the pass, another sailboat ahead of us was preparing to enter the cut. Radio chatter indicated that a couple of boats were approaching from the far side. The boat on our side held off entering the cut until the other boats came through the passage. The VHF chatter included channel conditions in and beyond the channel.
The current in the pass was relatively calm, as was the wind—now out of the east. After broadcasting our approach, we entered Current Cut at 1100 and saw our speed over ground drop from 6 knots to 3 knots. We revved our 71-horse diesel to 2400 rpms to maintain headway through the rest of the channel. We were through the cut in about 10 minutes and adjusted our heading to make for Hatchet Bay, about 16 nm to the east across the northern end of the Bight of Eleuthera.
Hatchet Bay
The two openings we already navigated that morning were narrow, but the 80-foot-wide entrance to Hatchet Bay made us thankful that we didn’t have any winds to stir things up. Hatchet Bay had been a totally enclosed lagoon until after World War I. An enterprising Englishman cut an opening in the high, limestone cliffs sheltering the lagoon from the Bight. The opening was made to facilitate transport of locally quarried stone, dairy products and farm produce to Nassau and beyond depending on which of several accounts you choose to believe. The quarry, the milk production and the ag development schemes all failed. The cut now serves the small fishing fleet, ferries and small freighters that pass through. The bay also offers excellent heavy weather protection and serves as a stopover for cruisers traveling the length of Eleuthera.
A marina, stone silo ruins and some small commercial buildings populate the low southeast shore of the bay. We didn’t need to check into a marina for provisioning or to take on water, so we examined our charts for a suitable place to anchor. The main channel from the cut to that southeast corner is used by the aforementioned vessels, so we steered to starboard and the west part of the bay.
Alice Town
The settlement of Alice Town—population 300—straddles a low ridge along the south shore. One food store and a few shops, restaurants and bars are scattered among the colorful houses. A ketch was anchored a couple hundred yards from the dinghy dock for water-borne patrons of Farrington’s Boat Haven, a busy bar\restaurant. During our second swing around that end of the bay, a large catamaran came in from the Bight and dropped anchor close to the dock. The cat was teeming with people and from the sound of things, they were already partying.
A quick review of the likely consequences of anchoring in that area prompted us to move farther north and east in the bay. There were a few boats already parked there, and heeding some warnings about the seabed, we slowly circled through assessing depths and available space. As usual, I was on the bowsprit to determine where to drop the anchor. As Julie relayed depths over our headsets, I watched for patches of turtle grass and other potential perils identified in our research and charts. Turtle grass grows in thick mats that can thwart an anchor from biting into the seabed. I also looked closely for debris and other hazards.
Questionable Moorings
We had read that moorings set by The Bahamas government years ago deteriorated or even disappeared from neglect. Several buoys seen around the bay indicated the presence of moorings, but they were not deemed reliable. That’s an easy problem to avoid. We also knew that many moorings had lost their buoys, leaving hard-to-see chains, shackles, anchors and blocks on the bottom. A mooring without a buoy can entangle a boat’s anchor and ground tackle.
Blue Holes
Another potential hazard in this bay is called a blue hole. This is a naturally formed fissure in the seabed that connects to underground caves and passages that come up in nearby tidal areas. Those openings are called boiling holes. Tidal activity creates turbulence in a boiling hole that makes the seawater appear to boil. The water is not hot. An anchor dropped in a blue hole in a harbor can get caught and be irretrievable. A blue hole and its boiling hole counterpart can be miles apart. Blue holes can also occur on land; they rise and fall with tides. Oceanic fish and other sea creatures are often seen in them.
Blue holes and boiling holes are often marked on Bahamian charts, and we had been warned of a blue hole in Hatchet Bay in a cruising guide. It was also marked on our RayMarine chart, but I didn’t see it as we scouted our anchorage. Nor did I spot any derelict mooring debris and was able to find a small area free of turtle grass where I dropped anchor in 12 feet of water. We backed on it hard, noted our position and shut down the engine. Given all the potential hazards, Hatchet Bay is an anchorage that obliges arrival when the sun is high enough in the sky to get a good look into the water and at the seabed.
Noisy Crowd
As we prepared and ate dinner that evening, we could hear music from Farrington’s across the water. We were quite happy not to be any closer as we got ready for bed.
The next morning at 0900 we raised anchor and headed for the pass out of Hatchet Bay. The sky was clear and there was barely a breath of a breeze stirring. We cleared the cut in the cliffs and steered to port. A couple hours later we steamed past Billing Bay Point, the rocky cape that anchors the western shoreline of the bay we sought: Tranquility Bay.
Tranquility Bay
Tranquility Bay is better known today as Holms or Holmes Bay. That’s the place name most often seen on the charts and cruising guides we had. One reference indicated that Tranquility Bay was part of a larger area called Holmes Bay. We headed there at the behest of Mike Gozzard, president of Gozzard Yachts Ltd. Mike had given us the lat\long coordinates and a diagramed satellite photo. He also described the long, graceful arc of white sand beach washed by aquamarine waves. He has fond memories of the place.
The entire beach stands in stark contrast to a dense pine, brush and palm tree forest backed by dun colored elevations of varying grades and heights.
The 3/4-mile-long beach is oriented northwest/southeast. It is bookended by the tumbled grey rock formations of Billing Bay Point at its westmost end, and higher, darker cliffs that jut abruptly from water at the east end and continue to a headland to the south.
Sister Ship
Two small rocky islands stand a quarter mile southeast of Billing Bay Point and half a mile from the center of the beach. Midway between the islands but closer to shore, we saw Gaviidae’s sister ship, Shadow, lolling serenely on the gently rolling surf. Shadow’s dinghy was not attached to the sailboat, but we could see a small vessel making its way along the beach. We were not surprised to see Shadow anchored in the bay, we had arranged to rendezvous in Tranquility/Holms/Holmes Bay back in Spanish Wells.
Mike Gozzard had spent part of his childhood on this bay and he nurtures vivid memories of it. In fact, he traces Gozzard Yacht’s genesis to this bay. When he found out we were planning to cruise Eleuthera, he asked us to stop and get a photo of Gaviidae in the bay backed by the two islands. He wanted a photo of a Gozzard in the bay as a memento. With Shadow there, two Gozzard yachts in the bay would be a bonus.
H. Ted Gozzard
Mike’s father, H. Ted Gozzard, was in the building trade in Canada after apprenticing in carpentry and joinery while growing up in England. In the mid-1960s, Ted took a hiatus from work and traveled to the Bahama Islands with his wife and two sons. While there, Ted bought a large fishing boat in need of repair.
Besides preparing for a career in the building trade in England, Ted also studied ship design and construction. He bought the fishing boat as a project and as a home for his family. While in Nassau, he met an American couple from Chicago who owned a small resort on Eleuthera called the Tranquility Bay Club. They were interested in expanding the resort and hired Ted to manage and develop the resort. He began the expansion in 1967 by adding guest rooms and a new bar/restaurant. The bar is the octagonal building shown in the pictures below.
Political Turmoil
At this time, Great Britain granted internal self-rule to The Bahamas as a first step to independence. Unemployment among blacks—80 percent of the population on the islands—was rampant and the newly granted freedom spawned impatience among Bahamian nationalists for more opportunities. Tourism was the fastest-growing sector of the islands’ economy and hotels, casinos and resorts became a focus of agitators. An explicit threat at the Tranquility Bay Club in 1968 prompted the Gozzards to leave the islands and return to Canada.
Back in Canada, Ted Gozzard kept thinking about what he had learned about sailboats and cruisers’ needs in The Bahamas. Interest in pleasure boats of all kinds was growing in Canada and the United States was growing and the maritime industry was experiencing boom times. Ted switched his design, engineering and construction focus from buildings to boats. In 1971 he went into business on Lake Huron coast of Ontario repairing, designing and constructing small boats. Operating as Bayfield Boatyard Ltd., Ted became proficient in working with fiberglass. Augmenting his boatwright education with what he learned about sailing and cruising in the Bahamas, he designed and built larger boats that evolved into the legendary family of Bayfield sailboats and later, the elegant line of Gozzard yachts. Time spent in The Bahamas, and at Tranquility Bay, inspired many design features found in Gozzard Yachts.
The View
Meanwhile, The Bahamas became an independent nation in 1973. Ownership of the Tranquility Bay Club changed over the years and the buildings fell into disrepair, according to Mike. Still, he wanted a photograph to commemorate the Gozzard connection. His vivid memories of gazing across the bay from the beach at the two rocky islands stuck with him. In his mind’s eye, he visualized seeing a Gozzard yacht at anchor framed by the islands in the background. Julie and I were sailing along Eleuthera and we were happy to indulge his nostalgic desire to see that dream come true. When we told Mike and Andrea (aboard SV Shadow) about the Gozzard connection to Eleuthera and Mike’s vision, they immediately agreed to join us. Mike was going to get photos of two Gozzards in that bay!
While Tranquility Bay was peaceful and beautiful, anchoring was something of a challenge. The bottom was mostly clear and free of turtle grass or other vegetation, but it was very hard. In addition, the depth was too shallow to park close to shore. We also had to be mindful of our position relative to the southeasterly stretch of the shore to get the photo of the two Gozzards and the islands. Our intrepid Mantus anchor finally got a good set near Shadow, half a mile from the beach.
Dinghy Exploration
Julie and I lowered our dinghy and mounted the Torqeedo electric motor on the transom. We gathered drinking water and snacks for a shore picnic and I put my digital camera in a waterproof seabag to take along. We also grabbed a handheld VHF radio for communication with the crew of Shadow.
We motored to the shoreline and followed it to near the resort. We were looking for a place to pull in, mindful of the No Trespassing signs attached to pine trees along the way, when a man came out of the brush and waved us ashore. He identified himself as Brett, owner of the property and asked what we were up to. He was initially guarded as we talked—then reacted with some surprise and enthusiasm when we told him about Mike and Ted Gozzard and our photo mission. Brett’s family had owned the resort for some time. He told us that he and his wife, Fiona, were in the process of restoring the property. He also told us that they’d had some problems with shady developers and were cautious about strangers turning up on the property uninvited.
After granting permission for us to get our photographs and invite our friends on Shadow to come ashore, Brett left us to bring Fiona to meet us. He explained that she was in their house up the hill.
The Tour
After the first round of photos were done and Mike and Andrea came ashore, we got a tour of the resort. Walls were still standing, but roofs and windows were missing on most of the buildings and interiors were destroyed. The one exception was the tall, octagonal bar/restaurant that Ted Gozzard had built nearly 60 years ago! Windows were boarded up and the big wood double door was intact and locked, but their caretaker had the key. They told us the interior was still in decent shape even with the holes in the roof. They noted that many of the fixtures, including the all-wood bar and back shelves were salvageable. Sadly, we wouldn’t be getting any photos.
Brett also showed us parts of the property already cleared of pines and shrubs. In his makeshift office in the trees, Brett spread blueprints on a table depicting plans for the restoration and further expansion of the resort. While they couldn’t provide a timeline for this ambitious project, they shared their vision for restoration of the existing structures and expansion plans, including a dinghy dock and beach bar at the south end of the beach for visiting sailors.Their hope is to retain the original feel of the resort from it’s heyday. Essentially restoring Ted Gozzard’s original vision. They have much work to do but they’ve already made huge progress clearing out invasive trees and shrubs. It was all very interesting and exciting and wanting to hear more, Julie and I invited Brett and Fiona as well as Mike and Andrea to join us for dinner aboard Gaviidae.
The next morning Brett took all of us on a walking tour over to the Atlantic side of Eleuthera. The east shore has pink sand beaches washed by dark blue waves—quite the contrast to the gentle aquamarine water lapping the shore of of Tranquility Bay.
After lunch, both Gaviidae and Shadow headed out of Gozz and made our way south for Governors Harbour.
March 1 – 2, 2025 25°15.075’N 076°18.392’W 2957.86 Nautical Miles