Snorkeling at Half Moon Cay

Half Moon Cay is popular with cruisers that sail on Holland America Line's ships.  The long beach on Little San Salvador Island in the Bahamas is the beach most people dream of when escaping to the Caribbean: sugary sand, mostly uncrowded, and rum drinks easy to order.  The destination is also private, only hosting passengers from the line's cruise ships, usually just one ship at any given time.  Sometimes an additional ship might stop, as the Rotterdam did when I visited off of the Nieuw Statendam early in April.

My ship offered a guided snorkeling excursion off the island, however the tour was cancelled when the boat that was supposed to take passengers experienced some problems.  But there was a solution for many of the disappointed tourists; join me on a mile hike down the beach to the western end of Half Moon Cay.  From this uncrowded corner of the isle, it was an easy swim to where the tour boat was originally headed.    

Like most of a ship's stops in the Caribbean, a busy port can be initially overwhelming.  From the moment I got off the tender in the small marina on Half Moon Cay, I was confronted with throngs of people and shops.  Even at 8:30 in the morning, the beach closest to the marina was crowded with beach chairs and sun worshippers.  At least there was little vehicular traffic, only a few motorized trolleys shuttling passengers to excursions like horseback riding and kayaking.  

On this, my very first visit to the island, I enjoyed the first part of the walk to my snorkeling spot by following the pavement path above the beach: the pirate ship-themed bar and pastel-colored rental bungalows to my left, the busy food pavilion to my right.  Afterwards, I left some personal belongings at a clamshell-protected chaise on the beach, and walked on the sugary sand near the surf to the much quieter western end of the beach with only my snorkel gear in tow.  

The sky was cloudless and the water calm, crystal clear, and warm: conditions enticing me to dive right in.  I had read about what to anticipate snorkeling on the island, so my expectations were actually quite low.  Around Nassau, not far away on another Bahaman island, New Providence, I'd witnessed vibrant reefs with a kaleidoscopic array of sea life including angelfish, parrotfish, and corals.  I've even snorkeled over reef sharks off that island.  In contrast, Half Moon Cay was mostly a reef-less sand bar: essentially a pretty beach very well serviced by a giant cruise company.  But nonetheless, since drinking mojitos and sunbathing weren't my idea of beach fun, snorkeling a quiet, possibly boring spot was worth an hour's time.

Only a couple of hundred feet into the ocean, I encountered a small outcrop of rocks and coral where a large school of ocean surgeonfish gathered.  Some squirrelfish cowered in rocky crevices while others tried to blend in safely with snappers and grunts.  Juvenile yellowtail damselfish were easy to identify with their sparkling head dots. The shallow water was clear except for tiny jellyfish, creatures I've almost never encountered.  Rather than be alarmed, I swam through them without any stings.

Hugging the coast, I made my way west while studying the rocky, underwater wall defining the shoreline.  Lots of fascinating marine life resided there, including what I thought were anemones but were actually types of sea worms.  These creatures remained hidden deep in stony corals, only showing their protruding crowns used for feeding and breathing.  One species was a yellow fanworm, its crown's appendages appearing like flowery tentacles undulating in the gentle sea current.  Another was a Christmas tree worm, whose dual crowns indeed looked like a pair of snow-laden pine trees. 

I found myself pretty far from where I had entered the water, out of sight of Half Moon Cay's long beach and, more disturbingly, other snorkelers.  A small, deserted beach lay a hundred feet in front of me, so the shore was an easy swim away in an emergency.  Nonetheless, I headed further west over a sandy stretch, observing large tubes of sand clustered in individual piles. Looking a lot like white doggy doo, they turned out to be the sandy excretion of sea cucumbers.  Apparently the animals were horse-sized!  

Rather than continuing further alone, I decided to turn around and snorkel back where more people swam.  However, had I continued west a couple of hundred feet, I'd have found a rocky outcrop where a sunken boat lay.  Undoubtedly I missed seeing some fascinating marine life there.

Nonetheless, on the way back I enjoyed examining more critters populating the wall along the shore, finding a flamingo sea snail, beautifully patterned, hugging a fan coral and then some sea slugs clinging to rocks.  I also chased a huge spotted trunkfish and observed a large Atlantic blue tang flashing some agitation at me by displaying white stripes.   Two wrasses were easy to identify from my photos: a puddingwife and a blackear.

Out of the water, I chatted with a few snorkelers about the conditions and the marine life.  We all agreed that it was a nice place to snorkel and that the water was as beautiful as it gets anywhere.  Holland America Line actually calls Half Moon Cay a "slice of paradise."  I don't know that I'd go quite that far but I'd certainly say its snorkeling is well worth a taste or two anytime you're in the Caribbean.

Ocean surgeonfish off Half Moon Cay.

Tiny jellyfish close-up off Half Moon Cay.

Squirrelfish among grunts off Half Moon Cay.

Spotted trunkfish off Half Moon Cay.

View of deserted beach on my snorkeling trail off Half Moon Cay.

Sea cucumber's sandy extrusion off Half Moon Cay.

Dual crowns of Christmas tree worms off Half Moon Cay.

Atlantic blue tang displaying white stripes off Half Moon Cay.

Crowns of yellow fanworms off of Half Moon Cay.

View of the western end of Half Moon Cay's long beach, where I entered the water to snorkel.

Google map view of Half Moon Cay and the mile-long shoreline walk from the marina to where I snorkeled. 

Google map view of where I snorkeled: entering the water at the red X and turning around at the black X. Continuing to the left or west would have brought me to some rocks, reef, and a sunken boat.  Next time!