Riding the Waves: Surviving Our Roughest Miami to Bahamas Jet Ski Crossing Yet!
Have you ever looked out at the vast ocean from the shores of Miami and thought, "I could ride a jet ski all the way to the Bahamas"?
For us at Weekenders on the Water, that crazy thought has become an annual tradition. However, our third annual open-ocean crossing from Key Biscayne to Bimini proved to be our ultimate test. In our latest video, Miami to Bahamas Jet Ski Crossing | Our Roughest Crossing Yet, Christine and I take you along for a grueling, salt-soaked, 4.5-hour battle against Mother Nature.
Here is what it actually takes to cross the Gulf Stream on personal watercraft (PWC) when the forecast goes completely out the window.
One of the best parts of this year's trip? The trip actually made it out of the group chat!. Instead of a massive organized event like the previous two years, we were invited to a smaller, more intimate group of close friends and a couple of support boats, totaling about 10 jet skis.
Running Out of Luck (and Outrunning Storms)
The morning started with a stunning view of downtown Miami, but an ominous thundercloud loomed nearby. While we hoped to outrun the weather, we faced an early setback. We spent an hour idling in rolling waves waiting for a final support boat to converge with us.
Sitting still in rough water when you're heavily loaded is a recipe for disaster. Because I had so much gear packed on, water was already washing into my footwells just sitting at idle—I had to get up on plane just to keep the water out.
When we finally got moving, the reality of the ocean set in:
The Forecast: 2-foot waves.
The Reality: 4-foot rolling swells chopped up by localized rainstorms.
The Pace: Instead of cruising comfortably on plane, the rough conditions forced the pack to travel at a grueling 8 to 12 mph for the first part of the trip.
The Mid-Ocean Math: Managing the Fuel Anxiety
When you're 30 miles out in the middle of the Gulf Stream, your fuel gauge is your lifeline. Slower speeds mean burning through fuel less efficiently, which throws all your calculations off.
I always worry about gas out here, especially with the smaller 16-gallon tanks on the older GTIs. In rough conditions, even the guys with 18-gallon tanks have been known to run completely dry right at the fuel dock. To combat this, Christine's ski was outfitted with a rack to carry extra auxiliary gas cans.
At just past the halfway mark—3 hours into the grueling trek—we took a much-needed physical break to stretch our aching backs and transfer the auxiliary fuel to ensure we both had enough to make it.
Land Ho! Bimini in Sight
After crossing major shipping lanes crowded with massive cargo ships, we kept pushing. Finally, about 8 miles out, the tallest structure on the island appeared on the horizon: a docked cruise ship.
Before officially making landfall, we paused 5 miles out to mount our yellow quarantine flags. This crucial maritime protocol signals to Bahamian authorities that we've arrived from international waters but haven't officially cleared customs yet.
The Sweet Relief of a No-Wake Zone
Four and a half hours after leaving Miami, we finally glided into the peaceful no-wake zone of North Bimini.
I was completely exhausted, sunburnt, salt-crusted, and dehydrated, but the sense of accomplishment was undeniable. And I have to give a massive shoutout to my wife, Christine—I don't know many guys with a wife as badass as mine. Three times now she has ridden a jet ski from Florida to the Bahamas out here with the boys like a total champ.
Watch the Journey & Ride With Us!
If you want to feel the spray of the ocean and see those massive swells for yourself, make sure to watch the full adventure on our Weekenders on the Water YouTube Channel.
Are you a Florida local? You don't have to cross an ocean to ride with us! We are hosting a much calmer, beginner-friendly group ride happening just south of Tampa Bay on July 12th. No extra gas cans required! RSVP Below:
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