Margarita to Grenada 4 Dec to 7 Dec 09
Sorry that I have been so remiss about keeping you all update on what I am doing, I will try to find the time to change that this year. If you do not wish to receive these, let me know and I will take you off the list.
After having spent the five months of July through November 2009 in Margarita Venezuela I am now in Grenada. The passage was not without it's challenges. The normal route would have me leave Margarita in the late afternoon Friday, spend one overnight of motoring into 8-10 knots of wind, to arrive Los Testigos the following morning, rest up a couple days then proceed to Grenada. That would have been good advice, if I was one to take good advice. The general problem is not the wind, I can sail that, it is the North Equatorial Current, which is NW setting and relentless, flowing at 1 to 3 knots and against me the whole way.
During the course of the first night I heard a strange sound coming from my engine, upon further checking I found I had broken a motor mount, which allowed the engine to twist itself on torque, I simply threaded a heavy line through the mount, tied it off and everything was happy, something else for the needed parts and to do list.
I was able to sail all day Saturday in settled conditions, the wind held steady at 12-16 knots, the seas were only 3-4 feet, however, it was a bit more north than I would like, but I was making plenty of easting, so it was a good trade. I had to figure that the wind would go back to its normal easterly direction and I would be able to gain back that south. I was now north of and still 80 miles east of Grenada making good time in 14-18 knots of wind and speeds up to 9 knots with the current and less than 5 against it. After moonrise the squalls started. The rest of the night was spent tacking trying to avoid the worst of the clouds, whose silhouetes could be seen in the moonlight, that contain these short bursts of wind, up to 30 knots and plenty of rain.
During one of my many walk throughs I noticed water under the floorboards in the starboard hull. When I tried the manual side of the bilge pump switch the pump ran, but did not want to run in the automatic side. That is about normal, the float switch has failed. While sitting in Margarita no one showers on that side, there is never any water in the hull so that pump has not had much to do, until now, and it will not do what is expected. During further investigation I discovered that the pump would run if the wires were crossed, or as I discovered, the switch held in the manual side. The selector switch is spring loaded, so I rigged up a piece of string to hold it on, let it run until the water was gone, then take off the string. Next to find out where that water is getting in. It was the hose that takes the pump discharge water to the outside. It contains a one way valve so water does not get back in. I am sure that when I take this valve apart I will find it filled with hair, the great destroyer of pumps, valves, traps under sinks and showers, in a boat or in your home. Once this valve is held open, the higher water waves exceed the height of the outlet and allow water to run back in. With a functioning float switch you would never know the difference, unless you sat there and counted the pump cycles. Something else to fix after I get in. For now the string will work.
As the wind built, the waves built accordingly and were now eight feet. As the waves got larger the motion of the boat became more abrupt, causing the fifteen gallon, hundred pound, plastic, fuel containers lashed on deck to start bumping into each other, which finally cracked one of them. The smell of fuel was the give away sign. I gathered a bucket and hose. I first siphoned off three gallons of fuel, I guess I lost a couple more through the crack, and it was now below the level of the crack. Then felt I could safely handle the container on the rolling deck back to the cockpit where I could pump the remaining fuel into the tank. Good thing I had done all that motoring or I would not have had anyplace to put that fuel.
After all of this settled down Otto decided to take the rest of the night off, I could not get him to hold a course, he would steer for awhile, seconds or minutes, but then stop, so I turned him off and hand steered, which ended my cat naps. When daylight arrived I was able to do some checking and found that the plug had lost it's contact, a small repair and Otto was working again and I was able to get a few more ten minute periods of sleep while Otto steered. My tacks were a few hours in duration and covered up to fifteen miles, more in one direction than the other, but I was still making easting, very slowly, about one mile per hour.
It was later in the morning when I spotted a very large cloud, with ugly dark, round blisters of rain soaked pockets hanging from it's belly, right in front of me, I tacked to try get around it, but after nearly an hour it was one I could simply not get around, I think it went all the way to Grenada, and by the color of the clouds and shape of the bottom I knew I was going to get wind. I reefed the sails for much stronger wind than I was experiencing while I ran parallel the cloud line, before turning to go straight through. The bottom of the cloud was getting as dark as any moonless night and darker than the most surly teenager when asked to take out the garbage, seemed to be hanging all the way down to the horizon and as I approached and I could not see to the other side, this was a large cloud, at least several miles across, and I knew I would be in it for some time. When I finally got to the wind it quickly built to 35 knots, the beginning of gale force, then to 37 but never got any higher. It held there for a half hour or more until I got into the rain. Once you get into the rain, the wind dies, so I was happy for that. The rain was a typical tropical shower, falling in sheets like a waterfall, the kind of rain that will fill the laundry buckets in minutes when at anchor, wind driven, but quite warm. We call that a squall, you call it a downpour.
Between many of these squalls the wind dies, often down to 10 knots, so during those times I would start the engine, roll up the headsail and motor straight east, sometimes for 20 minutes and sometimes for over an hour; each hour of motoring would save about four hours of sailing, so it is worth the effort. All very important easting gained. I am not sure when the wind shifted to easterly, but discovered that my tacks were gaining more east. Perhaps the current was beginning to be shadowed by the island of Grenada. The squalls ended Sunday afternoon and the sailing continued on long tacks, each only gaining a little east. On a fifteen mile tack I would gain 3-4 miles of easting and being 35 miles away, that was still going to take some time.
The balance of Sunday afternoon and night, going into Monday was easy sailing. Long tacks, the wind was down to mid teens, the seas had dropped in height to 3-4 feet, there were still clouds in the sky and I could not see Grenada, but few of these clouds had much wind. I did not need to reef again the whole trip. By Monday morning I was still 20 miles away, by mid-day 12 miles, which is when the wind died, right down to less than ten knots, which is not unusual when you approach the lee side of any high island. I started the engine, rolled up the head sail and motored straight into the wind, soon dropped the main as it was doing no good. By 4:00pm I was very nearly in. One more time Ma had other thoughts. With less than a mile to go, all sails down, I had already prepared the anchor, another squall came rolling down the steep hills of Grenada, blasted by wind up to 30 knots, heavy rain that obscured the island, continued straight into the blast that only lasted ten minutes. At least it washed off all the salt that had attached itself to the boat. I drove along the coast line to find the strongest wireless internet signal, then stopped.
So after four days, three nights the anchor is down, life is good, it is time to get something to eat, have a quick beer, well maybe two, check emails, see what the market has done and go to bed, early. In this amount of time I could have nearly been in St Martin with a much easier ride.
Sebastian and Noel
Sebastian and Noel, a young couple from Argentina, were spending some time in St Thomas enjoying a family gathering, which was to be followed by three weeks on RPhurst doing some sailing. We would spend nearly a week around Grenada waiting for the other half of the crew. We discussed the options of sailing around Grenada or spending time land touring during the wait and they chose the land touring.
They had already done the historic St Georges and the careenage before we took one day off, and in the company of friend Diane of Jabulani, to do the valley of the Seven Sisters waterfalls. This is a valley in the interior of the island where the near constant rain, at the higher elevations provide water that keep these falls, falling. There are supposed to be seven waterfalls in all, but I have only seen four of them. This has always been an all day trip, requiring getting to the central bus terminal in St Georges, a half hour bus ride to Grand Etang, a National Park in the high central mountains of Grenada. One side interest of Grand Etang are the monkeys that hang around and will very happily accept handouts of banana from anyone offering same. Some of them will lay next to your hand on the top of a fence they frequent so you can scratch their bellies.From there we walked downhill, on the blacktop, road to the entrance to the valley, which is family owned and you are required to sign in and pay a small fee for crossing their land. They also claim that if you are not back out before dark, they will come looking. Along will all the other services, they offer good stout walking sticks, which are very necessary on the steep and often slippery walkways they call a trail but they have carved steps into the most difficult places. Care is still needed to avoid a nasty slip and slide down the slope.
After about an hour of hiking first up to the top of the ridge, then downhill to the bottom of valley where the river runs. During the times that we will be here the river is quite tame, however the signs are there of much higher water levels and greater flow, in large logs misplaced on the rocks and sometimes in the limbs of other trees. During the hurricane season this must be a real sight to behold.
The first waterfall is St Margaret which announces itself long before the first glimpse of the white water falling off a sixty foot cliff and splashing itself into the pool below. After the long and humid walk through the jungle no one can resist getting into the pool to cool off. Frequently there will be local boys willing to jump off the higher rims around the pool in exchange for some small donation out of your pocket.
We spent enough time around St Margaret Falls to recover from the walk and were ready to tackle the next falls. The next ones are not so often visited so the trail in not so well marked by traffic, but if you follow the babbling brook, it must take you to the upper falls. After the main falls the rest are all smaller, each feeding water into the larger one. Honeymoon falls is the furthest one we visited and the pool is in the shape of a heart. There we had lunch and talked over the hike, while the mist from the falls cooled the air around us. Eventually everyone was ready to leave, so we picked up all of our trash before heading out. The walk to the main trail is easy walking, even if hard to find.
Once on the main trail it is all up hill to the ridge, then down to the road. There we pass through the family garden, with every kind of local fruit and veg they can raise. There seems to be one of the brothers that is caretaker of the plot, no one can understand anything he says, but he takes great pride in describing what is growing there and is even more pleased with himself if you will taste some of the produce of his efforts, smell the leaves of spices and take a few pieces for later.
Once out of the valley we wait on the road for a bus, willing to go back to St Georges or to Grenville, whichever way has empty seats on the bus. We ended up going to Grenville, the second largest town on Grenada and this being Saturday we found the local market abuzz with activity. Then took a different bus route home, just to see some different scenery.
We had planned to do the underwater sculpture park on Sunday, but Sebastian informed me they had received an email from family in Argentina that required their immediate return home. Too bad they would miss the sailing as the next couple arrived on Monday.
Paula and Jani
The plan had been that we would have the new crew see St Georges on Monday, then head out on Tuesday, so we saw Sebastian and Noel off on Sunday and the arrival of Paula and Jani on Monday. Paula and Jani are a young couple from Finland, she has sailed more than he and she had just crossed the Atlantic on another Finish boat in the ARC, Atlantic Rally for Cruisers. Jani had joined her in St Lucia, the end of that rally, then they both flew down to join me in Grenada. Paula needed little in the way of instruction, except where things were different in detail from other boats. As with many people that know enough to get into trouble, she rarely wanted to take the instruction, but her way worked as well, so there was no reason to butt heads over it.
We left St Georges, Grenada the 22nd December, then spent a couple nights at Isla de Ronde, a remote and uninhabited island of Grenada, before moving on to Tyrell Bay, Carriacou. I had hoped to have good internet access there, but after a couple days of trying on Saturday we went out to White Island, another remote place where the protection is good, water is clear, the reef is growing and shelters lots of fish, and only a couple other boats. A current is what feeds a reef, so to have a vibrant reef requires a current. This also allows an easy drift with the current if planned correctly, done the wrong way it can be a very tough swim. Before taking the kids to the reef we discussed how they should see the reef and end up on a small island well down stream. There I would be able to see them and know when to pick them up.
We returned to Tyrell Bay to find the internet working, but barely. About all I could do was reply to prospective crew. I have started a posting on a www.floatplan.com, a different crewing site, and the response has been much better than www.7knots.com. I am still on that one, but do not get many inquiries from there.
They knew some of the Finish boats would be there, so had some party time in mind. One night after dinner they asked if they could use the dingy to visit. I figured what trouble can they get into so close by, the other boat was only a couple hundred yards away, under a nearly full moon and said yes. Before they returned at 0400, I was getting quite worried, they had given another Fin a ride, had somehow pulled the drain plug out of the dinghy, then while bailing had scooped it overboard, then needed to fashion a wooden plug to take it's place. Good thing I had a spare.
We spent New Years Eve out there. The kids have trouble staying up past eight, so I woke them to watch the distant fireworks from Canouan, another island that has a major resort casino on it, which is part of the Trump empire.
New Year's Day we moved to Bequia, a wonderful sail, gentle wind from the east, which put it right on the beam, the current from slightly behind, hardly a cloud in the sky, leaving that deep blue color to the water, with little white spots of reflected sunlight, that makes you think of twinkle christmas lights, or the imagined sparkle off the rows of teeth in a shark as it is about to chomp down on your leg. By midday we were nearly to Bequia, so we sailed past a few miles, tacked and worked our way closer to Admiralty Bay where we would anchor in protected water for nearly a week.
I had decent wifi access so I did not care much what happened. The kids decided to upgrade their scuba certificates to advanced, so the lessons and classroom would take a few days. This way they were able to do some diving along with sailing, two very closely related activities when you live on a sailboat.
We arrived St Lucia after a very a disappointing passage, through a combination of contrary wind, prevailing current and very bad steering we missed St Lucia by twelve miles, then needed to tack and finally motor to get into a different anchorage by midnight. I hate coming into an anchorage after dark. The only consolation is I have been there before.
I try to be patient with people but that starts to get old after awhile. When given an instruction to hold a certain course, the person at the wheel has an obligation to hold as close to that as possible. The female side of this couple is one of those that will not take any guidance or suggestion, she has sailed before and does not need to be told. She is terrible at the wheel but feels she wants to take her turn, then can not, or will not hold a course. It is very frustrating for me. When faced with the currents in the passes between islands, it is imperative to hold a good course, or the current will sweep you west faster than you can gain it back. It is abit like running up the down escalator, if you get tired and slow down, the escalator will take you right down again, it does not matter how many steps you have taken up, stop and they are all gone. There is no way to gain back that distance without taking those steps up again, faster than they are coming down, which on a sailing boat is called tacking.
We next moved to Rodney Bay. The kids have been in Rodney Bay St Lucia earlier so had already seen most of the sites. I was to take them to Martinique on Tuesday, then to meet with Louis, a guy who has sailed with me before, then return to St Lucia to pick up Mark. This all changed when Louis's father was hospitalized and Louis was not able to make the trip. I was able to arrange a replacement, but he also was flying into St Lucia. So the kids discovered that the boat she had crossed the Atlantic was going to Martinique and they decided to save me the round trip by sailing up this the other friends.
Mark and Juniad
Junaid and Mark, arrived in Vieux Fort, St Lucia mid January as planned, Juniad Saturday afternoon. He had told me he was big, 260 pounds, I think a bit more, so I tried to put him in the forward bunk that is closer to the floor, but he insisted on having the larger bunk aft. I shuddered each time I heard him hit the floor, expecting him to put a foot through the sole. I sent Junaid to do a land tour the day after he arrived, but being Sunday nothing was open or driving in the small town of Vieux Fort. Sunday evening Mark arrived and we were all onboard, getting to know one another and talking about the plan for the next two weeks. The plan is to see seven countries in 14 days, we will need to really keep moving.
Juniad had told me he had substantial experience, owned his own boat and sailed all the time, I am so gullible. Mark has not sailed, but has many experiences in life that blend well with sailing. I would hope for the best and plan for the rest.
On Saturday before their arrival I had moved the boat from Rodney Bay to Vieux Fort, on the opposite end of the island down the east, windward side of the island, which is about 40 miles, because both of them wanted to see the Pitons on the SW corner of St Lucia. The area around the Pitons are argue ably one of the most beautiful places on earth, with two, side by side, eroded volcanic cores pressing toward the sky, each trying to outdo the other in height, surrounded by nearly clear water and very good snorkeling. It is a magical place and a must see.
During the passage to Martinique the learning curve was very steep. They needed to follow directions for getting up the anchor, raising sails and get the boat out of the harbor shortly after seven. This was another hint that things were not going to go well with Juniad. He was quite upset that we needed to be underway at such an unreasonable hour. I guess he had no concept of time, speed and distance, while we had lots of miles to go before arriving at the next place.
As with most people, they both had trouble steering RPhurst. Anyone that tries to bully this boat will soon find they can not make a track any straighter than the lowest of snakes, wandering all over the place. Mark seemed to catch on pretty quickly; Junaid had a terrible time, at one point going from luffing the sails straight into the wind to nearly gibing the boom going downwind minutes later. I finally needed to insist that I take over or we would have missed Martinique completely. I was discovering that Juniad is one of the laziest people I have had onboard and did not seem to want to do anything that required any effort at all.
On arrival to Martinique we stopped at a small bay I know so they could get some snorkeling time. Toward the end of the daylight Juniad requested a ride to shore so he could get some pictures. He was told dinner was at seven and arrived on the dock right on time. Then Wednesday morning we headed across the bay to Fort de France to check into the country and drop them off. The plan was they would see the town of Fort de France and some of the countryside, I would meet them in St Pierre for dinner then and we would move on the following morning to Dominica.
At the last minute Mark decided to stay with the boat to St Pierre. His emphasis is to learn more of the sailing part. He catches on quickly, having driven race cars, small planes and running his own business has taught him to take instruction well and follow directions. Our passage up the lee side of the island was slow and gentle going, but we made it in by 1400, which left enough time for him to see some of the town also.
We had arranged to meet by 1900 for dinner and I had it all ready long before that. Mark and I sat down to eat at seven and Juniad finally showed up after eight. Again I was to learn he always had his own agenda and schedule. After dinner the tension between them erupted and I thought I was going to need to put on my referee hat and call the shots. They finally settled down and went to their own corners to pout.
Thursday we headed across to Roseau, Dominica. The heading on the GPS was a tighter course than I had anticipated, about 60 degrees off the wind, so after a few miles out, I rechecked my numbers and found I had entered a 2 instead of a 1 in the tens column, which made our waypoint ten miles farther east. Once that was corrected we had an easier time, with the wind angle over 70 degrees. We had larger waves in this channel so steering becomes increasingly difficult. Mark did pretty well, only losing his way occasionally, Junaid was steering a 60 degree swing, once going from heading straight into the wind to nearly gybing the main three minutes later, while claiming to be steering a straight course. He did not have a clue about the relationship of a sailing boat to the apparent wind. It was during this passage that he went below to rest, found it was too hot and felt he should be able to open the hatch over his bed. In 8 foot seas, with salt water spraying everywhere, what is this guy thinking, it is necessary to keep the boat closed up and the salt water out.
The Anchorage Hotel and Dive Center has always been the place I frequent while around Roseau, Dominica. As we arrived by 1500 I dropped the guys off at the Anchorage to see the town and arrange a land tour the following day, with a return time of 1915 for dinner, and I stayed to check emails, then get back to the boat to repair the windlass that had stopped working. It turned out to be only a corroded wire. Mark was back in daylight so I made dinner, we no more than sat down to the warm meal at 1945 when Junaid returned. He started whistling from well down the beach, he was supposed to walk down to nearly opposite the boat, so he could be seen, but he could not recognize RPhurst from the other boats moored here. I was not about to give up my warm dinner for someone that was nearly an hour late, so I continued eating before getting into the dinghy to get him from shore. In the mean time, he had found someone to take him to the boat, with a not very warm thank you and no offer of cash. Juniad informed me that he needed to be onshore by 0500 for his land tour, then I set out his dinner. Then Mark and I went back in for a couple, well maybe five, beers and listen to some of the music.
On Friday I took Juniad in at 0500, then Mark later to do land tours on Dominica while I moved the boat north to Portsmouth, arriving about 1330, was able to get online and found time to update this log. I was able to find some bread in town. Three big guys eat a lot. In this way they get to see the island and the boat keeps moving forward. We are on a very tight schedule. We had arranged to meet at The Purple Turtle Bar, by 7:00pm to eat, or you have eaten earlier, but when I arrived there, found they no longer offer food, so we left a message for Juniad and went to another place a few doors down. We had finished eating long before he showed up for the dinghy ride back to the boat.
Saturday we crossed to The Saints, which are a group of small islands and part of the southern end of Guadeloupe. There is a small fort with an impressive museum and worth seeing. As we arrived early Saturday afternoon we stopped to do some snorkeling and hiking on an uninhabited island as Juniad had requested this. This is where the guys discovered another part of cruising. Uninhabited islands do not have anyone that keeps a dock, cuts paths on the island or mows the grass. When we approached the rocky shore to let them off, I told the guys they would need to get out quickly so I could get out of the surf. As we approached the shore a wave tried to push us onto shore, I reversed the engine and told them to go, Mark was in the water and ashore in a couple seconds, Junaid was a deer frozen in the headlights of an approaching car and could not move. Mark returned to try help steady the dinghy while I was trying to reverse into the waves, most of them doing their best to fill the dinghy with sand ladened water. Finally the dinghy turned sideways and closer to shore in a wave and Junaid got out, Mark turned me bow to the waves and I was able to get a short distance away from shore, but not before getting the engine wet, so it died and I rowed the water and sand filled dinghy back to the boat. After scooping out as much water as I could I hoisted the dinghy to drain the rest, then washed out as much of the sand as possible, then removed the motor cover to let it dry out.
Clearly another approach was needed to get Junaid back into the dinghy for the return, he is quite like a cow climbing a tree. I snorkeled to the beach, talked with Mark and told him I would anchor the dinghy off the beach, then ease myself in to waist deep water, Mark would need to hold the stern stead for Junaid to get in, then Mark could get in and I would pull us into deeper water, before starting the engine, all of which worked as planned. This all turned into something about nothing, as there were no docks, no maintained paths, no one to mow the grass or chop down the cactus, neither of them walked the island anyway.
We then motored the remaining few miles into the only town in the Saints, still with time enough to see some of the town. The plan was to see the fort the next morning, it is only open from 0800 to 1200, then Mark wanted to rent a scooter to see the rest of the island. After the fort Junaid felt he had seen enough and wanted to move on, so we sailed to Basseterre, the former main town on Guadeloupe, but it has lost it's glow since the cruise ship port has been moved to Point a Petre and the banana industry has collapsed.
I have checked into Guadeloupe in Basseterre before, but when we anchored the boat offshore and went in with the dinghy the office, which was previously the main customs office and always open was shut tight. As the conditions were quite rolly we decided to move along the coast about 6 miles to a sheltered bay. Course Ma had other ideas. The wind over the whole area had died, so the sea breeze picked up, blowing straight down along the coastline, up onto the highest hills, which are on the south end of the island, yup, wind right on the nose. I felt it was simply sea breeze so finally anchored with an onshore breeze but felt that would end at sundown, which it did.
We had a comfortable night and the next morning moved the boat to Pigeon Island, a well known snorkeling site, where the guys could snorkel and I could catch a bus to do the checkin. The weather was changing, we have had two days of no wind at all, now the clouds were moving in and the snorkeling was less than the best, so Junaid chose to take a bus to town also, Mark stayed with the boat for a relaxed day. On arrival the official office was still closed, so I started wandering around trying to find the new office. Finding anyone that speaks English in Guadeloupe is not easy. Finally a street cop, who did speak some English knew exactly where I needed to go, and walked me right to the door. I would have never found it. First you need to stop on the sidewalk to talk on an intercom, then walk around the block to the opposite side to the entrance door. I now learned they do not do checkins for small boats any longer, that job is done at the new marina. The girl in the office was very helpful, did the phone calls, sent my application by fax, and stamped me into and out of the country. A very nice experience.
Now the plan was to leave Pigeon Island for the 111 mile passage to St Kitts. As we had been having no wind at all, and we had been motoring the morning before, I had not been listening to the weather forecast. It would not have been of any help to know that heavy weather was forecast because we had a schedule to meet and needed to keep moving. So we were out of bed at 2300 to begin the next leg to St Kitts. Before taking a nap I had rigged all the lines for a spinnaker as I thought it would be an easy downwind run. We motored out with no sail, then as we started getting some wind it was nearly on the beam, too high for the spinnaker, so we set the full main and headsail and were making pretty good time. After just a few miles the wind built to over 25 knots, time to put a reef in the sails. As soon as I was done with that the wind went over 30 knots, time for another reef. We were now skimming along at 8-9 knots with winds in the mid 30's, only twice hitting 38, at which time we would turn and run away to lower the apparent wind speed.
The first 44 miles was hard on the wind, so Otto could not steer, Mark got sea sick, but stayed up, Junaid went to bed right after dinner and woke for his 0400 three hour shift then stayed up for almost an hour but could not steer in the dark before going back to bed. We passed Montserrat at daybreak and then the next leg was slightly more downwind. We were making great time, but it was rough, 8 knots is too much while sailing into 10-12 foot seas. After the turn the course was more off the wind and Otto was now able to steer, but I still could not get some sleep. Mark kept me company between his naps and after sun rise he seemed to recover from the sea sickness, Junaid came up for a few minutes every few hours but went right back to bed.
On our approach to St Kitts I knew that when we rounded the last hill and began the next six miles to the anchorage that the wind would be blocked off by land. I suggested that we should take out the reef in the mainsail as soon as we entered the calm behind that hill. Junaid jumped right up and said he would take it out, I had shown them how a couple times before. We rounded the corner, the wind dropped to 5 knots, barely enough to keep moving, consistent with his earlier demonstrated desire to participate, Junaid stood there in the cockpit, after several minutes of this I simply went out and removed the reef from the headsail, which gave enough drive to steer. Once clear of the hill the wind came back and the reefed main and full headsail was enough to sail all the way to the anchorage. I did not even ask him what had happened, but it came up later and he said he was waiting for me to tell him when, to which I replied, I said as soon as we rounded the first hill. He is only on for a few more days so I probably will not kill him.
We made St Kitts by 1400, so I took them to shore, while I was headed for the grocery store. How was I to know this was the day after a local election and everything was closed. Good thing it was not too early, so a short wander, then return to the boat. Wednesday, the guys are saw Brimstone Hill, an 1800's British Fort, a World Heritage Site and well worth the time to see it. I will go get propane and groceries and try to get caught up with emails.
The gas plant has now changed the rules and will no long accept walk in bottles, so it requires me to take them to a local agent, who will take the bottles to the gas plant. I did not even attempt to try this. Being the skeptic that I am, I was certain the agent would not take them the same day, and also certain he will substantially raise the price. I could wait for St Martin. This being Junaid's night to cook I asked what he wanted out of the freezer, he said he would do burgers. While at the grocery store I picked up premade burgers and buns. When he arrived back at the boat he stated that as he had been land touring he should not be expected to make dinner, so I made the burgers. I try not to do the easy meals like that, leaving those for the people less qualified at cooking.
Thursday we headed for Statia, which is only a bit over 20 miles, the first five along the downwind side of St Kitts so very protected and calm but swirling confused winds because of all the land effect. Junaid wanted to go to St Barths, Mark wanted to see Statia, I broke the deadlock with the comment that the wind would choose, if once we clear St Kitts we can hold Barths we will go there, if not, Statia. As it was we were hard on the wind to make Statia and with gusts up to 35 knots we had another rough passage at high speeds, often seeing nine knots. We did not need to tack to get in only because of the wind wrapping around the end of the Statia and coming in from behind us allowing us to turn more toward the anchorage. As we were approaching I started the engine and left it idling for later use. When I shifted into gear I could hear parts falling off the gear shift mechanism and the shift worked, but the throttle would not. I quickly put a bungee cord on the throttle part of the governor to raise the engine speed enough to have steerage into the anchorage.
Statia is small, quaint, very Dutch and is very laid back. I took the guys to shore with instructions to find the places of interest and where to be for the later pickup. I had no more than gone back to the boat then I heard Junaid's whistle. I looked to the place they we had arranged to go for pickup but he was not there, I went back to the internet, I had a weak signal off shore, then I heard the whistle again. I looked to the designated place but there was no one there, so I went back to the computer, then heard the whistle again. This time I could see him walking down the road nearing the pickup point. I got into the dinghy and went to shore near where he was standing and moving down the rocks on the shore. When I got close enough I turned off the motor so I could hear him tell me he had forgotten to put on his pants before going ashore and needed to go back to the boat. I told him there was no way I was beaching the dinghy on the rocks to pick him up. Now I needed to motor back to the drop off point, then wait for him to walk, or was that waddle back, so I could take him back to the boat to get dressed. The shorts he had on could not be seen as anything but shorts, but he would not have it. Another wasted trip.
Friday we headed out on the 44 mile passage to St Martin. I knew there was no way we could hold a course to Barths, but Junaid whined most of the day that we were not going there. It would have required several tacks, which in the sustained wind of high 20's and gusts up to 38 knots, I did not want to do alone and knew I could not rely on him for any help. It was a fast, wet ride. We closed down the windshields and still had substantial spray in the cockpit and the entire boat is covered with salt. I have not seen too many speeds over ten knots lately but we hit that a couple times during this passage. I was suprised with the sea heights, the highest waves were only eight feet, I would have expected more from winds that high. We arrived without incident and as we approached I started the engine to motor into the anchorage and after several minutes of idling but long before being needed, it died. I restarted it and it died again, so we sailed into the anchorage under sail. These guys have done the anchoring drill enough to have this figured out. I gave each specific instructions. Mark was getting the anchor ready, Junaid was to furl the headsail, bringing it in to nearly fully furled, when it stopped. Without having done any tacks during the day, someone had changed the lazy sheet, which then kept the headsail from furling fully. While I was trying to get that corrected, Mark was distracted and not paying attention to what he was doing so was not ready to deploy the anchor when I asked for it. It was a real cockup, but we did get safely anchored.
I took the guys to shore with instructions to be at the Yacht Club for the bridge opening at 1700, I went back to the boat to find out why the engine was not running, which turned out to be air, where did that come from. I pulled up the anchor and moved closer to shore, where we spent the night. After the bridge opening, which consists of the mega yachts and smaller vessels enter or leave the lagoon. The outbound traffic is first, to minimize congestion in the lagoon and the beginning of happy hour, then the inbound opening. Watching the massive piles of money passing through the narrow bridge, sometimes getting a bit too close to the sides, and the whole crowd cheering for the bridge. The abutments have been repainted since last year, still there are a couple of very fresh chunks of concrete missing.
Saturday Junaid left after I had done the checkin. Mark and I repaired the gear shifter, then went to shore ourselves, I need to get some groceries, I have new crew coming tomorrow. Mark will leave in the morning, he will be missed. Now the adventure will begin again with three new people.
Colleen, Rob and Rich
The new crew are here, the young couple, Rob and Colleen, are very outgoing and eager, he knows more than she and they are both ready for an adventure, so I am certain they will do fine. The other guy, Rich, is a bit older than his age, does not listen at all and wants to do the instruction, but does not know what is happening, then got sea sick during the first time out in light conditions. I am pretty sure he will be alright, just needs to know his boundries. All three are here for only one week.
As the kids came in on Sunday I had them do part of the town of Cole Bay on Monday while waiting for Rich to arrive. On Tuesday we sailed out of Simpson Bay through the Dutch side bridge to sail around about one third of the island. The first leg was all down wind, so we did a couple of gybes, just for practice, then turned the first corner of the island and the wind came up on the beam, mostly in the mid to upper teens and only hit twenties a couple of times. We stayed on this tack until we were nearly at Anguilla to the north, then turned into the wind and started tacking. This was when Rich decided to spew all over the deck. We only had three foot waves.
After turning into the wind our boat speed added to the wind speed so we had higher wind speeds although we were in the lee of the island and the sea state never did build beyond a couple of feet. While sailing it is always important to keep an eye on the weather. We were tacking back and forth, enjoying the sailing while a low slung, dark bellied cloud was approaching, the darker tendrils dropping out of the bottom were giving us fair warning of something different approaching. Then during one squall the wind built to 28 knots and I needed to reef, then half hour later it was back to mid teens and we did not have enough sail up. Several tacks later we were anchored at Grand Case where we will have dinner, go ashore for a street party, then stay the night. Rob and Colleen did most of the steering during this blow, doing a pretty good job and both were wearing huge smiles.
Every Tuesday of the winter the town of Grand Case closes both ends of it's waterfront street and vendors of all kinds, artists working with canvas, local seeds and nuts, sheets of metal and cloth, wanna be musicians play, food and drinks are served everywhere. Normally a small quaint French village these Tuesdays it is transformed into a carnival atmosphere with tourists and locals from all over the island coming in to see what is happening.
As the wind had died to nothing we spent Wednesday snorkeling around a local attraction just outside of Grand Case Bay. The locals take many loads of tourists out there daily in glass bottom boats. The snorkel was only fair, but if you do not snorkel the Caribbean often, it was probably quite good. The kids bailed half way back and swam back to the boat.
This was Rich's evening to cook and had requested pork out of the freezer, he said he was going to make stroganoff. I thought that may be a bit complex, but that was his choice. When he returned from shore and asked that I show him how things in the galley worked, we had only gotten to lighting the stove, when he said this was not going to work, as he had no idea what he was doing and asked if I would make the dinner for him, which I did, but was not pleased. Part of being on this boat is to take your turn in the galley, even if all you can make is macaroni and cheese you take your turn. The alternative to that is if you do not cook, you can make reservations on shore, but the bill is yours also.
The wind had still died so Thursday we moved to Marigot Bay for some land exploration. The town of Marigot is a very quaint French village, with a small fort overlooking the bay, that is well worth the time. So I took them to shore to spend the afternoon with a pick up time later.
Friday morning we still had no wind at all, the storms on the east coast of the states have sucked all air movement into themselves, the prediction is we may not have any for several days. Then the forecast is for huge swells caused by the winds moving offshore after dumping record amounts of snow in the DC area. So I took everyone ashore to do some land exploration. Rich headed for Orient Beach, the clothing optional end and the kids wandered. I picked them up later and Rich insisted on doing burgers on the grill.
Saturday morning we headed out in very light wind toward Little Bay, I love the way the Dutch named things, as our destination. The downwind leg out of Marigot was uneventful and slow, where the wind was light and on the beam, with only the headsail up, so we kept the motor running, then we turned to go east on the south side of the island, hard into the wind. We had not gone very far before the engine died. There was a short chinese fire drill to get the mainsail up, then as we tacked into the wind, I was able to bleed the engine so it would run again, but we were making good time and the kids were having fun steering, so we sailed, tacking the length of the south side, each taking their turn at steering, Rich having the last watch. The locals have built a snorkel park in Little Bay, with lots of submerged things, like an old sailboat, cannon, jet ski, a great place for one of those, and assorted hardware. There are usually lots of fish because the local fishermen are not permitted in there. We anchored alongside and everyone did a snorkel to kill some time.
The plan had been to stay the night, then move to Philipsburg the following morning. We all wanted to see the Super Bowl and seeing the main town and cruise ship port on the island is also necessary. As we pulled up the anchor and tried to head out of the bay I noticed we could not steer straight, we could do a port around circle but not forward. I dropped the anchor again and had Rob put on his mask and get into the water. We tested the rudder positions from side to side and sure enough one moved, the other did not. I opened the rudder access and the cable that connects the two rudders was broken. I am fairly certain from turning too hard in the tacks and forcing the wheel against the rudder stops, still it should not break the cable.
So we broke out one of the emergency tiller handles and hand steered that rudder, the other worked with the wheel, to Great Bay, right next door to Little Bay and the location of Philipsburg. I took everyone to shore, did the necessary grocery store run and returned to the boat too remove the broken cable. Now finding a replacement or repair of this one could be interesting.
Sunday evening after dinner we all headed in to see the big game, and what a game it was, one of the most exciting I have seen in some time. That is the only game I take time to see each year, whether the ViQueens are in it or not.
Monday we were off again, downwind, hand steering the broken rudder to get us in the right direction, then lashing it straight and steered with one rudder. My hope was to get to Simpson Bay, then the following morning move the boat through the bridge and into the lagoon for the couple of weeks I would have to get some repairs done. After arrival we arranged a meeting place and I took everyone to shore, then went to find a replacement cable or a shop to repair mine.
The plan was to meet at the dock where I left them, if anyone wanted to come back early, they needed to walk down the beach to signal me for a ride, then walk back to the dock where I would pick them up because the beach had too much surf and was not safe to beach the dinghy. While I was having lunch I saw Rich signaling me from shore, so I waved back, then he started walking toward the dock, which was about a half mile. When he saw that I had not left yet, he walked back. I waved, then got into the dinghy and he headed out again. As I knew it would take him several minutes to walk to the dock I returned to the boat, rather than sit in the sun waiting for him. He saw me return to the boat and walked back, he waved, I waved and he started out again. When he saw that I had not left yet, he walked back.
Finally I got into the dinghy and motored over to where he was standing on the beach to tell him to go to the dock where we had agreed to meet and I would be there. With the surf breaking on the sand and the noise of the motor we could not hear each other. Then I did something really stupid and something I know not to do, I went too close to shore. Of course about that time a larger than normal wave came up from behind and broke right over me and the dinghy, which wetted the engine so it died, drenched me and half flooded the dinghy. I quickly got the oars out and rowed away from shore, outside of the breaking waves to anchor, open the motor and let it dry out, so it would start. Two hours later without tools or clothes I had the engine dry and running again. I am totally confused that some people can not take a simple instruction, signal, walk to the dock, meet, it sounds so simple to me. When I finally met him he was full of apology and could not understand how things had gotten so badly wrong. I simply pointed out that we had a plan and he did not follow that plan.
At the arranged time the kids showed up, after having seen some beaches, the small town of Cole Bay and we sat around at the St Martin Yacht Club for the bridge opening and the parade of mega yachts and smaller boats moving through the bridge first out, then in, to get into or out of the lagoon.
The whole crew left on Tuesday morning, Rich was hoping to get onto an early flight as he was going to the DC area, which we had been hearing was socked in and the airports closed. I have not heard how he did. The kids left on time and arrived home without incident.
Being only eight days this turned out to be lots of moving in very low wind conditions with lots of motoring, but I think everyone had a good time.
Lisa and Elisse
While every crew has something different to offer, the next two were pleasantly interesting. Two women, Lisa and Elisse, recommended by a guy who had been with me before, joined me in St Martin for a week. I had been advised that one of them wanted to be clothing optional so who am I to object and I fully admit to enjoying the scenery that provided.
They turned out to be lovely ladies and I really enjoyed having them on the boat. Their emphasis was on a tropical vacation and not hard core sailing.
They arrived Sunday 21 Feb mid afternoon, now these ladies know how to travel, with one small bag each. I met them at the airport and while walking back to the Turtle Pier we discussed some of the options. As the first day was shot we simply went back to the boat and settled them in and talked about the itinerary for the week. About eight they were heading for bed, which surprised me, but I figured they had just flown down and their arms would be tired.
Monday morning was time to start seeing the island, so I had them onshore early with directions to the nearest beach and the shopping areas. They did Mullet Beach, which is one of the nice ones on the south side of St Martin. By the time I picked them up I had dinner nearly ready so it was another relaxed evening. We discussed the weather forecast, which was for very light winds, mostly from the south, which will have an effect on where we can sail.
Tuesday morning the anchor was up and we made the 8:15am bridge opening on the French side, planned to sail in the sheltered water between St Martin and Anguilla until it was time to settle into Grand Case for the night. As we were sailing along the women were on the trampolines taking in the sights when Elissa's visor blew off. She made a hasty retreat to go get another one, I tacked the boat, then while sailing back to the floating visor told Lisa what she would need to do. I had her get to the bottom step on the stern, then sailed nearly to the visor, turned into the wind to reduce the speed, and the visor came right to her and all she had to do was pick it up. We still had enough boat speed to get back on course, pick up enough speed and tack. By the time Elisse came back on deck we were going the earlier direction. She noticed her wet visor and wondered how we had picked it up. I simply told her we had a man overboard drill.
Grand Case is a quaint French village that blocks off both ends of their waterfront street every Tuesday evening during the cruising season, which then becomes a carnival like setting with bars, food, entertainers, artisans selling everything from paintings and carvings to jewelry and clothes. The odor and smoke of meat cooking over a charcoal fire hangs everywhere. The fun starts at about five and goes to the wee hours of the night. Good thing for me the music stops as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Wednesday the wind was out of the south and right to sail to the east side of French St Martin, a place called Orient Bay, the home of Orient beach, famous for it's clothing optional section. The ladies spent the afternoon ashore while I did some projects on the boat. I could not log onto any of the internet sites as they were all security enabled.
Thursday we headed for Phillipsburg, the home of tourist shopping, specifically intended for the cruise ship crowd. I do not understand the mentality of people who go to foreign ports to buy high end jewelry and watches from vendors they will never see again instead of the shops back home, but they are in every cruise ship port. I had picked up wifi from shore here before and did find one this time, but very weak. I was able to read but not send emails.
Friday after I had taken the women to shore with the understanding they needed to be back by two in the afternoon, I returned to the boat to try to do some emails when I heard a loud crash, then felt the impact. One of the crazy young tourists from the cruise ship had rented a jet ski he had no idea how to drive and was speeding around the anchorage. When he realized he was going to hit my boat he bailed, letting the machine continue forward, into the stern of my dinghy, breaking the outboard motor mount bracket. I immediately jumped into the dinghy to get hold of the kid who was swimming back to the machine. I was certain that if he was able to make a clean getaway that would be the last I would see of him.
One of the employees of the jet ski rental place was quickly there to assure me who he was and where I could find their place of business, which was a sandwich board set on the sidewalk. The boss then showed up and was yelling at me for restraining the kid. I released the kid who was quickly loaded onto one of the other machines and hustled to shore. When I tried to start the outboard I discovered the impact had also broken the fuel line connection, so I rowed the dinghy to the nearest dock.
I found the jet ski rental place and the kid was no where in sight, when I tried to get some information from the young employee, he simply stated, you have no witnesses, there is no damage. That was enough for me, I headed for the police station. Not knowing where to find that I stopped at the court house, which was nearby, but was told no one would talk to me as I did not have a shirt on, but when I asked was told where to find the cop shop. I had left the boat quickly and did not put on a shirt first. I spotted a cop on the street and asked if he was on duty and he told me he was, so I gave him the short version of the details and was told that I need to get a shirt and come back to file a report. I could see all of this leading to the cruise ship leaving with any chance of recovery with it.
I went to the local market and bought a shirt, returned to the police station to report, but was told as this happened on the water it was up to the Coast Guard to investigate, one of the cops was calling as I was told this.
I then returned to the beach, found the vendors again, they had already loaded the jet ski onto the trailer and were about to close down for the day. As I questioned the guy that seemed to be the owner, who was far more concerned that I had grabbed the kid than any damage I had sustained, I simply asked what he intended to do. I do not know much about the law but I do know that the owner of the vehicle is the one who is responsible for any damage caused by that machine. We argued back and forth for awhile, then he lead me to the beach chairs where the French kid, and his father were sitting. From this point everything was done in French. The French guy was saying no way, the machine owner waved the liability waver he had signed under his nose, the French father wanted to get back the safety of the ship and I stood by hoping someone official would show up.
I estimated that my damage was three hundred dollars for the bracket, two hundred to install it, fifty for the fuel connection. I did not know that the latch for the hood and base plate for the motor were also broken. When I told all of this to the machine owner he grabbed onto the three hundred number and stayed with that. After much haggling he was able to get the French guy to cough up two hundred Euro, about two sixty in US and he said he had no more. The jet ski guy was saying take, take it, that is all you are going to get. As the French father started to head for the water taxi to return to the ship I accepted the offered amount, which I knew was low.
While the French father and son were sitting on the water taxi, waiting to return to the safety of the cruise ship, the Coast Guard showed up. They removed the pair from the water taxi to investigate, then took me back to the boat to produce my papers. After a time of Q&A, writing and form filling, the whole thing was finished. Bet that kid never gets to rent another jet ski.
The rest of the afternoon was spent getting the motor tied together with string, rerouting the fuel line, repairing the spark plug wire, fixing the hood latch, so I would be able to pick up the women later.
After the fact I discovered my numbers were even lower than I thought, but with the help of Mike Glatz of the yacht Baywood, possessor of all knowledge local in St Martin, was able to find a broken motor that had a good mount. I bought that and spent all day the following Tuesday removing the part from the motor and installing it on mine. The rest of the damage will need to wait for another time.
I then went to the grocery store for the few things we needed and stopped at a beach bar for a cold one. The guys in the bar had seen everything. In meeting all of them I discovered one was from Red Lake Falls and had gone to school in TRFalls, graduating in about '72. Now this is a small world. We had a few beers discussing world events until the women walked by, were told the whole story by the other guys, then we returned to the boat. Never a dull day in this life.
Friday afternoon we moved to Little Bay, the location of an underwater snorkeling park where the women snorkeled the park. Then we all spent some time just vegging out and I knew I would have internet connection here, it did not work. With the wind gently out of the south, and this bay being open to the south I knew it would be kind of rolly in there, but everyone was happy enough staying the night. We would need to leave early the next morning to make the early Dutch bridge opening.
Saturday we were underway early back to Simpson Bay, made the 9:30am Dutch bridge, and stopped the boat near the airport as I did not want to overwork my string motor bracket with long dinghy trips. I bid the ladies adieu and later moved the boat, found my favorite anchoring spot where I had wifi and went back to work on projects. I had new people coming in just a few days. I also needed to spend a bit of time with other cruising friends that were showing up, each with their own story of the past few months.
Mo and Patrick
Both guys, Mo then Patrick, arrived Thursday evening. While walking to the airport I met a single guy walking toward me, when we were close enough I asked if he was Mo, to which he replied yes, but how do you know me, so I introduced myself, we laughed and walked back to the airport, exchanging some stories, to wait for Patrick to arrive.
Friday I sent them off to beaches and other sites to see, while I did provisioning and putting away some of the projects I had been working on, I was able to get the steering cable repaired and replaced. We were due to leave St Martin over the weekend, so the boat needed to be ready. We had arranged to meet at the St Martin Yacht Club, a Friday ritual that draws many sailors to witness the opening of the drawbridge and the boat traffic of huge mega yachts down to the most simple sailing boat, coming or leaving the Lagoon. The bridge opens for outbound first, closes, then reopens when the vehicle traffic clears. The beers are cheap, everyone cheers for the bridge when a boat gets too close to the edge and this was the last time to say goodbye to some of the friends I had made and reacquainted while in St Martin. Mo had experienced some of the partying that goes on during the Heineken Regatta and wanted to go back to shore, so after dinner another trip was made to take him in and a time to meet established, he was right on time, so I did not need to wait while sitting on the dock by the bay.
Saturday I took the guys ashore again, with directions to the beaches, while I did the larger grocery run. They took in Sunset Beach, but alas, there were no ladies drinking free, but what do you expect it was way before noon. Sunset Beach Bar is located at the arrival end of the airport runway and is shown in most travel brochures of St Martin, the planes are literally right over head, and is famous for offering free drinks to any women who will drink at the bar topless. The guys were to find their way to Marigot, on the French side and I would get the boat through the French side bridge meet them there on the dock. It seemed all of this extra walking has irritated my Gout and my big toes are complaining, not enough to make anything change, just enough to know they are not happy.
The wind continued to blow from the south, very unusual for this time of year, but that is the way of things. The forecast was for the wind to shift to the north Saturday night, which was part of our plan to depart on Sunday. I had considered the options because we needed to start moving to get Mo to Guadeloupe by the 15th.
Marigot was very crowded because the Heineken Regatta is taking place and Marigot is the stop off for about 250 boats on Sunday. I needed to go ashore to check out of the country so used that trip to find the guys. Later we found each other and after a couple of beers returned to the boat for dinner. I noticed the boat ahead of us was quite close, but enough away. We would need to keep in eye on him.
Mo requested a ride back to shore for a bit more party time, with an arranged time to pick him up. As the next islands will not offer much in the way of night life, this was a good exchange. Unfortunately I was not able to connect to the wireless internet I have found in that harbor before.
Around nine that evening the wind started to change and the heavy, low hanging, round bellied, dark clouds rolled in. You could almost see the wind trying to escape these menacing clouds. This was a passing cold front, also very rare to be this far south. The wind quickly turned to the north and the rain started, about the same time I needed to go pick up Mo. When I departed the boat to pick up Mo, I stopped at the boat now behind us, which had been too close ahead of us, was now closer. I asked if they would consider letting out a bit more scope to gain some distance and they agreed. Several boats in the very crowded anchorage started to drag, we saw a few resting against one another and several motoring around the anchorage after dark, so it was clear they had dragged anchor. We spent a rolly night, on a lee shore, with too many boats, too close and many not anchored well so I slept with one eye and both ears open. Sleeping while anchored on a lee shore, that means dirt behind you, a building wind trying it's best to put you there, does not allow for restful sleeping conditions.
We left St Martin Sunday morning, headed for Statia which is 36 miles just east of south. The wind continues out of the north, which was very good for us, however it was not all that strong and nearly directly behind, which is a very difficult angle to steer. The route to Statia was splitting the islands of Saba and St Barths, so we had an out if we could not make Statia in time. Both guys picked up steering pretty quickly, Patrick a bit quicker than Mo, but we were able to keep going in the about the right direction most of the time. Patrick is a school teacher, has done quite a bit of sailing, so he catches on very quickly and is very pleasant to have around. Mo is an engineer by education, so he is 'what iffing' me to death, many of the questions are well thought out and valid, some are just plain silly, everything seems to be going quite well with both of them.
We were a bit too slow to make Statia before dark so I chose to put up the spinnaker, a much larger sail that goes in front of the boat. With this we should pick up more than a knot in speed and should make it in easily. We talked over what needed to be done and who would do what, in what order. While putting up the spinnaker Patrick got a very nasty rope burn that took some hide off his hand. That will be a few days before he is able to use that fully. Other than that injury the spinnaker was up and flying, only needing slight adjustment. Actually we gained over two additional knots, so we were making up some lost time.
As we approached Statia it was time to get the spinnaker down, it is such a large sail care is needed. I instructed both of them what needed to be done and everything went perfectly. We first started an engine, then set the head sail to block some of the wind out of the spinnaker, then released the after guy and pulled down the sock. Once that was done it was easy. We then furled the headsail and motored into the bay to pick up a mooring ball, ten minutes before sundown.
Everyone was worn out, partly from the lack of sleep during the blow of the night before and partly just from having done the crossing. So shortly after Patrick's dinner of stir fry chicken, everyone was ready for bed.
Monday they are ashore checking out the sites. Statia has a very good small museum, a very nicely restored fort, the history of being the trading center for the western world, supposedly the busiest sea port in the world at one time, most people do not know that most of the material for the revolutionary war came through Statia, and a small volcano, called the quill, from which seven islands can be seen on a clear day, for hiking. The snorkeling is also quite good, but the diving is supposed to be great.
We had a very slow trip from Statia to St Kitts. The wind started out alright but changed about half way down, first dying completely, then switching to the SW, we wanted SE so we could still pick up a little boost, then it went S, so we dropped all sail and motored. We then motored for the next three and a half hours, the longest motor of this year. We should not have been surprised as it happened just as predicted by Wind Guru.
That slow moving allowed for keeping an eye on the scenery, which is very impressive in the Statia, St Kitts, Nevis and Saba area. We could see all four islands for most of the day.
I took the guys ashore to see the town and I am dealing with a very weak wifi signal, it might be good enough to send this.
We will stay here through Friday so the guys can see Brimstone Hill, a restored fort and World Heritage Site, while I did the grocery store. St Kitts has been one of the places I have gotten propane over the past few years. Then move to the south end of the island for some snorkeling, then down to Nevis. We will be crossing to Guadeloupe over the weekend, which will require an overnight. These guys will be ready for that by then.
I also wanted to try to get some propane. The last time I was here I learned that the procedure had changed. I checked out the local agent that now must be used and they informed me that if I pay them, I can hand carry the bottle to the gas plant for filling, which is what I did. The price was the same and I still needed to go to plant, but it works.
After the guys did Brimstone we moved to the south end of St Kitts, there are a few nice snorkeling spots and they were ready to get into the water. We stayed the night in Balast Bay and moved to Nevis the following morning. I figured I would have good internet access in Nevis, from a bar called Double Deuce. While the guys checked out the hot springs and saw some of the town I was able to get caught up with emails.
Our plan was to spend only the day in Nevis, leaving enough before dark to clear the shallows between St Kitts and Nevis with daylight, then begin an overnight to Guadeloupe, which would be 75-85 miles, depending on the arrival point. As expected the wind would switch around to the east, we wanted SE for our heading, so it would be hard on the wind again. We took one tack north to gain a bit of easting, then tacked to the SE and kept going on that tack all night. Well, except we ran over a slightly shallow spot, not one where we would be in danger of touching bottom, but an area where the sea breaks, so we tacked around that, then went back to the original course, set Otto and off we went. While hand steering most people make a track any snake would be proud to call his own, rounding up, which stops the boat, then falling off that picks up speed but does not keep our course, so using Otto after dark makes good sense. We had discussed ship identification but as it turned out, only three vessels come into view and none were even close to us.
As there would be no moon at all, I used way points to fix points of land to go around, which requires us to hold a pretty good course. We were surrounded by waves marching by, occasionally one would break and we would get some spray, but for the most part it was quite dry and our trail through the phosphorescence was glowing behind us. We knew that once we had cleared the uninhabited rock called Redonda, funny even with only starlight, we could see the rock four miles down wind, then the island of Montserrat, which is lit up with street lights and homes, but this time no orange glow from the volcano summit and we could see the glow from Antigua from sundown on.
After we cleared Montserrat we would be able to fall off the heading just a bit and that would relax the head into the wind sailing we had been doing. The wind cooperated all night, mid to upper teens, rarely gusting over twenty, the seas did not build past 6-8 feet, so it was a pretty smooth ride with speeds mostly in the six and seven knot range. Shortly after passing Montserrat we could see the glow of lights from Guadeloupe, and by daybreak it was in sight and the wind was shifting off land and dying, the last few hours were very slow. During the night everyone took turns off watch and was able to catch a few cat naps, still after an overnight, everyone is exhausted and this was no different.
As we were not able to hold the nearest point of arrival I decided to take them to Pigeon Island, an area of very good snorkeling and shallow diving. Cousteau labeled this as one of the best dive spots in the world. I am not so sure I would go that far, but it is pretty good. Saturday afternoon we took the dinghy over to the island for some snorkeling before returning to the boat for dinner. While sitting on deck discussing the day, a dinghy pulled up and my friends Susan and Mike of Tabby Cat pulled up. They joined us for some drinks and a chance to catch up on recent events. It was obvious I had been putting way too much strain on my feet, they were getting to the point of sore where walking was a challenge.
Sunday we bid adieu to Susan and Mike as they were heading south to see a waterfall and we were heading north to Deshaise. The guys had planned to do some land touring before Mo flies out on Thursday. Guadeloupe is a large island, so they are talking about renting a car to see more of it. They should have all the info when they get back today. There are no free wifi signals in France, so I will need to use an internet cafe.
During the short, ten mile sail to Deshaise I heard a radio call for me, it was Mike, wondering what conditions we had. Which were just the opposite of the strong SW wind they found, so they turned around and sailed to Deshaise also. I invited them over for fajitas and we had another chance to catch up. Monday the guys are wandering, I am catching up on things that need doing.
We did not have any trouble finding a place to anchor, Deshaise is seldom crowded early in the day, toward evening it often fills up a bit. The sail from Antigua is about a full day and the passage up from the Saints is most of a day, so those boats have a bit of a problem finding shallow anchorage. Much to my surprise a couple hours after we arrived a few larger, 80 foot race boats came, motored around and dropped the hook. Even that did not trip my brain cells to the fact a floatilla was on the way. From an hour before sundown, to a couple hours after a steady stream of boats came in, each thinking there was still room for a couple more. Many were so close that when the wind switched they would swing within feet of each other.
The crew on most of these were Russian, so the sounds and languages coming from them was strange. Monday appeared to be a lay day for them, or the fact there was no wind kept them in port, so the onshore hot spots were lively on Sunday night. We did not go ashore, but could hear and see some of the festivities. Funny, as soon as my head hits the pillow, the music stops.
Tuesday morning they were up early and getting the boats ready to depart, the committee boat went out to set up the start line and by ten they were all gone. The guys made plans with Susan and Mike to look for a waterfall. There are no rental cars available so they are needing to use the local bus. I am sure they had a grand adventure, the rental car was then to take Mo to the airport before returning it to Basseterre.
Patrick drove Mo to the airport in Point a Petre Thursday morning for an early morning flight, then needed to return the rental car to Basseterre, the capital, before taking a bus back to Deshaise so we could leave. We expected he would be back by nine. Because of a selective strike by the bus drivers there was no service between Basseterre and Deshaise, he needed to hitch three different rides to get back by eleven, which was too late for us to leave so we put it off for one more day.
With Mo, the dynamo, being gone, we had a quiet dinner and were in bed early, with plans to get up and going early the following morning. I know, it is bad luck to begin and voyage on a Friday, but I am told that does not apply to voyages that can be concluded on the same Friday. With 47 miles to go and a forecast for good wind we should easily be in before dark.
Beginning about eight, the first three or four miles were in the lee of Guadeloupe so the wind was goofy, shifting direction, gusting and tough to steer, so we motored most of that. There were a few boats ahead of us and we could see them setting their sails about the same place, so we knew we would have some wind. When it finally arrived, it was about perfect, slightly south of east, we were headed north, and in the upper teens. We trimmed the sails, set Otto and sat back for a nice ride, and we were not disappointed. For the first 32 miles everything went perfectly, winds high teens to low twenties and the seas less than 8 feet, then out of nowhere the wind velocity picked up to the high twenties and I needed to reef. This only lasted about an hour before dropping back to the low twenties but I left in the reef, we were still doing over eight knots and would be in early. I finally released the reef in the headsail to pick up a bit of speed. The final time for the 47 miles was six hours, averaging 8 knots, not a bad passage.
Patrick was very excited when I pointed out a passing humpback whale, about 200 yards from the boat. In these seas the whales are hard to see, but I caught sight of the water plume of his breath out the blow hole. It was a simple matter of moving my eyes upwind to find the whale.
With all the crew I have been having this year Otto is not getting much time at the wheel, other than the two overnights, he told me he was happy to be working again and I was happy to know he still works.
The next crew arrive in Jolly Harbor, Antigua on Sunday, Patrick leaves on Thursday, so I have only a couple days to get provisioned and ready for more company and things keep changing. I will be spending the next several weeks around Antigua, including the Classic Race week, before moving on 1 May.
Cindy and Amit
Sunday 21 March Amit and Cindy arrived at Antigua, followed instructions perfectly and we found each other at Jolly Harbor, then returned to the boat, had dinner and discussed what they wanted to do for the next ten days. As with so many land lubbers, these kids have no concept of water or fridge temp conservation. They walk past a faucet it is necessary to run some water through it, when they open the fridge they window shop for the first couple of minutes, then slowly make their choices and even more slowly close the door. They wash their hands before using the head, something I have never understood, and again after, but when they figured they could shower together, the pump ran intermittently for nearly twenty minutes, at one time I turned the pump off, then back on a couple minutes later. After this wasteful display I talked with Amit and told him again that water needs to be conserved. Their next shower was much shorter, but still way too long.
They are both doctors, highly educated and smart, they seem to be a very nice couple, for how long I have no idea. Both are excited about spending some time sitting doing nothing, sailing and trying to find some wildlife to photograph. They seem to want to do everything together, which can get in the way of getting anything done, but they enjoy each other's company. While earlier stating an ability to put a meal on the table I was soon to learn that this had it's limitations. By the end, I just did all the cooking and everyone was happier for it. Amit made up for that by buying a meal on shore.
Monday we got a late start as the kids were not quick in getting up, it was after ten, then we sailed to a remote anchorage in Carlisle Bay. This is a good first day out, it is only eight miles, most of the sail is in protected water, but the second half is right into the wind and current, so the going is not easy. Patrick was a real help during this passage as we did ten tacks and they were only about seven minutes apart on the short leg and a bit over twenty on the long leg. I did all the steering as we could not afford to loose any distance to the current. We were passed by a few boats that were getting a great lift using only the hull of the boat and the iron sail for propulsion.
Once anchored in Carlisle Bay everyone put on the snorkel gear and hit the water. The plan was to stay here for only one night and part of two days. The wind forecast was for higher than normal winds, so sitting that out was a good idea. Tuesday was another day of snorkeling, we again got a late start due to late sleeping, hanging out and soaking up a bit of sun. Both the kids received more than their fair share of sun this day and needed to be a bit careful. Cindy sat on something in the water that she should not have and got a large welt on the back of one of her legs, a good lesson to not touch anything.
Tuesday afternoon we headed out for Falmouth Harbor but did not get underway until one in the afternoon. We were only going four miles, but more day would have allowed more sailing. The wind was still up so while they raised the main, I had Patrick and Amit put in one reef. Once we were out of shelter the wind picked up to over twenty knots, but the boat was not moving fast enough. I stuck my head out from under the bimini and could see the problem right away. They had secured the first reef on the outhaul but had hooked the second reef on the luff, we only had half the sail and were way out of trim. I quickly corrected this and we took off at eight knots. As it was we did a few long tacks offshore, then back toward the island. This allowed the kids to actually see the measure of our advance from each tack. We ended up doing six tacks, but we arrived long before dark and everyone got some practice at steering. They both caught on pretty quickly to the process of steering but neither grasped the idea of moving a boat forward into wind and current.
Wednesday was Patrick's last day and he wanted to see Shirley Heights and Nelson's Dock Yard. I had him ashore by eight then returned to the boat. My plan was to do a propane run, but I needed to wait for the kids to get out of bed, which was ten again for Cindy. Amit was out earlier looking for some coffee. About eleven we headed in, took the bus to St Johns, I gave them some directions and I headed for the gas plant. Keeping my gas bottles filled is always a priority. Mostly I know where it can be done so that has been working. The plan was to meet at a bar call the Mad Mongoose and go for pizza. Le Cap restaurant is nearby and has decent pizza. Later we needed to get Patrick back to the boat to get packed.
Thursday brings a sad ending to a great visit, I had Patrick ashore about five am for his ride to the airport, he was fun, knew enough about sailing to be helpful so I will miss him. After getting a short nap myself my plan was to hit the grocery store. The kids had said they wanted to do the beach, which is a short swim from the boat, then do Shirley Heights and Nelson Dockyard in the afternoon, so I left for the groceries, leaving them to fend for themselves until about midday. When I returned they were ready to go ashore so I made a return trip with the dinghy then back to the boat to put the groceries away. As I suspected the shower floor was wet and the water tank empty. I do not understand how the pump turned off. So while I was putting things away I ran the water maker for an hour. We are planning to head out to a remote place, Green Island, which is one of my favorite sit spots, tomorrow and I will be able to replace some of the water. I need to get to shore to work on my taxes. As it turned out, the directions from Patrick were not clear enough to get them to the top of Shirley Heights easily. Taking the long way around they enjoyed the scenery and the wildlife.
Amit is of the opinion that they should be sailing more, he wants to sail to both Guadeloupe and Barbuda, which can not be done, one or the other, but certainly not both. Cindy wants to have restful mornings, getting up after ten, which does not leave enough time to go anywhere. I am not sure how this will resolve. So earlier than normal on Friday morning we headed out toward Nonsuch Bay, then turned into the wind so the kids could raise the main. So many non sailors do not understand the need to do a job and get it done, preferring to discuss the why's and what's before doing any of the work. Much committee discussion during different parts of getting the sail up can cause the process to take much longer than it should, we had very little room between us and the island so when the sail was up we needed to fall off.
So under full sail and partly cloudy skies, the wind was over twenty knots and we were making very good speeds in 3-5 foot swells and a 3 foot chop causing small white caps, but into the wind and current, it is the current that makes thing difficult. I did the first couple of tacks, then turned the wheel over to Amit who felt he was doing a pretty good job of steering. Once he had done two tacks I turned on the plotter to give him an idea of his tracks, which nearly laid over each other. With no forward progress we would not get there today, so I steered and we were able to arrive before dark, but not by that much. I still needed to scrape the lumps off the bottom of RPhurst and finished that just before dark.
Entering the area of Nonsuch Bay requires sailing about ten miles east from Falmouth, following the coast of Antigua, which curves northeasterly, then once past York Island turn in, put the wind on the beam and an easy sail past Green Island, with special care given the reef on one side and rocks on the other. I did not remember the sailboat hull laying on the reef before, a navigational error or bad anchoring. Once past Green Island you turn to the northeast, staying inside the reef after the entrance and turning more north, then an easy reach to Bird Island, where we anchored. I suggested that we would need an earlier, at least by eight, start the next morning to be able to sail the nearly 30 miles to Barbuda.
Saturday everyone was up before eight, I thanked Cindy, the sky was going to be clear, the wind was mid teens, it was going to be a wonderful sail to Barbuda. The first couple miles out of Nonsuch Bay are winding through a reef, the channel can be easily seen with good light. While still in the channel I turned into the wind so the kids could raise the main before we were in the swells of the open ocean. I suggested that this required the job to be done much more quickly than the day before or we would run out of channel. As it turned out, I needed to have them stop, motor back across the channel, then turn back into the wind to finish raising the sail. Finally it was up and we headed out into the expected swell of 4-6 feet. We turned off the wind, set the head sail and off we went. An easy broad reach and right on course. Both the kids had a chance to steer and we had plenty of time for them to extend the track by wandering. My only concern was to get through the reef and coral heads on the south end of Barbuda, around the area of Spanish Point. Once inside and finding a large enough spot we anchored within an easy swim of several coral heads. The plan was to stay there the next day and head back on Monday.
Sunday Cindy and Amit were excited about getting into the water to do some snorkeling. The area around Spanish Point is littered with coral heads, most are dead, but provide habitat for a wide variety of fish. After an hour or so they came back, quite disappointed in what they had not seen, which really surprised me, anytime I have snorkeled this area it was alive with fish. Just after mid day, when the light is best, I snorkeled to the nearest three coral heads and found lots of fish, grouper, snapper, barracuda, trumpet fish, all of the colorful tropical fish that hang around the coral and on the way back to the boat there was a sting ray investigating our anchor, but not one lobster. When I told the kids about all of this they mentioned that perhaps they should go with me and I could point things out for them.
Later that day I took them ashore, while the water maker was running, so they could enjoy the beautiful sunny day, walk the beaches, investigate a salt water pond, get some pictures of birds and have some time to themselves. We had agreed that I would come pick them up when I saw them on the beach, eliminating the need to coordinate the time.
We needed to get an early start on Monday to get back to Jolly Harbor. The heading was easy with the wind slightly behind the beam, the sky was clear and a deep blue, the water was dark blue in the deep places and nearly green in the shallow place. We used our arrival track to get us through the reefs, then set the sails for the comfortable passage back to Antigua. Only one area of concern was ahead of us. Returning from Barbuda requires threading the needle through a reefy area that has only one half mile wide place to get through. We hit that perfectly and could barely see the lighter color water over the shallow spots on both sides. From there we had an easy time getting to Galley Bay, where they were able to snorkel the shipwreck in the harbor entrance. This is not a great snorkel, usually the water has limited visibility and today is no exception.
After the snorkel we moved the short distance to Jolly Harbor and settled in for their departure the following day. Dinner was ashore and on Amit, a welcome and appreciated gesture on their part. I have enjoyed showing them a bit of how I live and hope they enjoyed the time spent here.
Classic Race Week
The past few years I have reserved the second half of April for Classice Race Week in Antigua. Many friends gather around the same time so it is often like old home week. To qualify for classic the boat must be old, new built on old plans, or new built to look old, then they are all put into classes that approximate their build, and as you can see there is a wide spread of sizes. It is all great fun, the races are wonderful to watch and the evening festivities are subdued, lots of free booze and food put on by the sponsors. There are few surprises in the standings for the larger boats, which are professionally crewed. Often the difference between winning and loosing is a few seconds and more often determined by ratings. All in all it is a great time, a welcome rest for me in the middle of the winter and is a very nice diversion.Louis
Louis and I have spent a few pleasant days sailing around Antigua. He has been with me before and is knowledgable and helpful, I enjoy his company. He arrived Saturday afternoon and was to meet me at the Mad Mongoose, how was I to know it would not be open because of the late night party the previous night. Sunday evening we did the trip up the hill for the Shirley Heights festivities of good overpriced food, a few beers and some lively music by a pan band followed by a local group, a good time was had by all. There I met Cris and Mark on Silhouette and spent some time visiting with them.
We first sailed out of Falmouth Harbor, on a clear sky Monday morning, on our way to Green Island, which is one of the famous sit spots in the Leeward Islands. Like many other places where a boat is anchored behind a protecting barrier reef, in good holding sand with little swell from the waves driven all the way across the Atlantic by the trade winds, some people spend a few days to a couple of weeks out there doing not much of anything but snorkeling and watching the kite surfers practice. I needed to clean the bottom of RPhurst or we would be very slow going to Barbuda, so a few hours in the disappointingly murky water and we were nice and smooth again.
In previous trips out there I have done some snorkeling on the outer edges of the new growth reef, where the water is much clearer and the swell a challenge to all but the most advanced snorkelers. Much of the reef is dead by storm damage, but the leading edge is still growing. All coral requires a current to bring food to the polyps, which leaves the leading edge the only growth area. As the reef matures it gives off sand, part of the break up of the reef as it dies, which is then carried down current to cover the older growth with sand, killing what is left.
Given our very tight schedule, he only had a week, and wanted to do as much sailing as possible so we only spent an overnight. The next morning it was up early to catch some weather forecast and then out the cut to head north the 28 miles to Barbuda. The forecast was for easterly wind in the mid teens, we actually had ESE wind in the mid teens and a very good angle for RPhurst.
The passage was begun under clear blue sky, reflecting the color of the deeper water, the most navy of navy blue, deteriorating as the day progressed to partly cloudy, we even had a three minute rain shower, then continued uneventfully and we arrived in good time, with plenty of daylight hours. The wind driven waves were coming from behind which caused Louis some difficulty in holding a straight course, then on arrival the clouds did their best to limit seeing the dangerous coral heads in our path, but we made it in safely.
Barbuda is one of the seldom visited places, and a couple more islands for him to check off his list. It does not offer wifi, much of a grocery store, very little in the form of entertainment or attractions, what it does offer is anchoring among the coral heads in reasonably clean water, miles of white sand beaches, lots of birds that come here to nest and no music coming from shore. There is something majestic in being anchored within sight of coral sticking above the surface of the water, knowing that you are safe and the marvels of the underwater world are but a short swim away.
In years past a cruiser needed to check out of Antigua, then into Barbuda, requiring a difficult trip to the only town of Codrington. This has changed and now if you are checked into Antigua, you are free to go to Barbuda without additional officious problems.
Getting in behind the protection of Spanish Point is always a challenge, always requiring good light from behind and a close eye for the many coral heads that dot the area covering a shallow of about three miles by one and a half miles, often allowing only a boat width between them, but mostly a hundred yards or so apart. The water is 25 feet deep between them, but many of them break the surface and are easy to see, the ones lying a foot under the surface are much more difficult, their jagged teeth just waiting to devour the unaware or the careless.
The anchorage behind Crown Point is much easier, but does not have much for snorkeling. It does offer a wonderful view of endless beach, actually about twelve miles, to the north, anchoring securely in soft sand. There is a high end resort located on Crown Point that is not very welcoming to cruisers, their well heeled guests pay far more than we are willing to consider.
We arrived early enough for a short snorkel before dinner. Then Wednesday was spent doing laundry, snorkeling while that was drying and I did take Louis to shore for a short walkabout and some pictures.
Thursday we sailed the 30 miles back to the west side of Antigua, Jolly Harbor, where I would check out of the country and hit the grocery store before moving on to Falmouth Harbor on Friday. Again no fish, this dragging a line and coming up empty is for the birds, but the past two days I have brought back a lure sans hook, so that is encouraging, maybe it was a fish that took the hook. This will complete the once around Antigua for Louis, and I will be in place Saturday for the next couple guys coming in on the same day Louis leaves.
The trip to Falmouth is not so difficult, only about eight miles, two of which are sliding down the lee side of Antigua in the swirling wind coming around each of the hills, before turning the SW corner and heading straight into the wind and current for six miles to Falmouth. We should be in there early enough to do emails. Well, not all goes to plan. The swirling wind along the west coast was right, we even did a full circle when Louis lost concentration and let the wind wrap around our bow, then dealing with winds up to 28 knots, under full sail. Then once around the corner and into the wind and current we did short tacks, about twelve of them, in 20 plus knot winds, to make it through a quarter mile wide and nearly a mile long narrow spot between Goat Head reef and the shore of Antigua.
Once out from behind the reef we were able to take longer tacks. This is always a struggle as we are straight into a full knot or more of current. Once we were out in the open and away from land, the wind began to fall off to the low teens and progress slowed. The day was perfect for sailing with a deep blue cloudless sky, even darker blue water that was covered with easy swells of 4-6 feet and a wind chop of not more than 3 feet. For the most part we were able to hold a pretty good line on our tacks, just needed so many of them. We were gaining nearly a mile on each tack but needed to sail about six miles to gain that one, three out and three back, such is the effect of the current.
Our last evening we spent walking down to English Harbor for the awards ceremony for Race Week. There were lots of people around, activities like large projector screens of the pics taken by the pros, award giving and speech making kept everyone entertained for a couple hours.
The taxi Louis had arranged the night before did not show, but he was able to flag down another, at 0515 is amazing, and was to the airport on time for his flight. I enjoy his company and wish he would come down more often.
Jon and Ariel
The day Louis left, which was a 04:30 trip to shore, and the taxi Louis arranged the night before did not show up, he was able to flag down another and get to the airport. Later the same day the next kids, Ariel and Jon, showed up, they are school chums from way back. Neither has done any sailing so these two weeks sailing to St Lucia could be interesting.
As this was Saturday and I needed to do the produce market anyway, after settling their stuff on the boat we all jumped a bus to town. St John's is not that much to see, but when you are there it is necessary. Much of the town has not improved with age, most of the older wooden clapboard buildings could use a coat of paint and the Caribbean architecture has not withstood the test of time. The area around the cruiseship port is all sparkle and glitz. I did the local produce market and gave them directions to the interesting sights, then I returned to the boat with a time to pick them up later at the friendly bar, Mad Mongoose. After dinner we talked about options and then went to bed, Jon soon learned about locals and their music. A DJ, I think, at a nearby bar started with the microphone about eleven, screaming, making guttural noises, singing with the music, all at ear busting levels of volume, and it lasted till about five, Jon could have killed the guy.
Sunday morning I sent the kids off to snorkel Windward Bay, a small beach between the entrances of Falmouth and English Harbors, that has a good taste of clear water and growing coral, then in the afternoon they did English Harbor. When we tried to pick up the last of beverages, would you believe the island was out of local beer, Carib, so we had to settle for Heineken, it seems all the boats leaving after Antigua Race Week had cleaned out the whole supply. Later, along with Susan and Mike from Tabby Cat, we all did Shirley Heights early enough to eat, enjoy the sunset and lovely views from the top of the hill overlooking English and Falmouth Harbors along with all of the boats anchored, as well as the magnificent homes built on the hillsides.
Under beautiful clear blue skies, contrasting with the turquoise shallows of the harbor, Monday morning we were ready to head out on the nearly 45 mile sail to Guadeloupe. We had previously done a tour around the boat naming names and learning the parts, so this morning we discussed the windlass and raising of the anchor. With the motor running to move the boat forward, the mainsail already up, Ariel was on the windlass. Wouldn't you just bet something really weird would happen during their first time in the process. While bringing in the chain and anchor the windlass motor was working really hard. As the anchor started coming out of the deep we could see a huge piece of dead coral attached to the anchor. Dropping the whole thing to the bottom was enough to make the piece fall off. Too bad we did not think to get a picture, but with the anchor off the bottom, we were drifting toward the boats down wind, so letting it down was the best choice.
Without all that extra weight we motored out of the harbor, setting the headsail as we went until we were clear of the hills and the wind became clean. Our course was easy as the wind was from the east in the mid teens and our course was nearly straight south. The boys were visibly excited to get out of the harbor and into the ocean, under the power of sails, with speeds up to eight knots. The ocean soon turned that dark circle of deep blue, indicating we were off the shelf surrounding Antigua and the swells were 3-5 feet, with small wind driven chop on top of that, and only the occasional white caps.
There were a few squalls off in the distance ahead of us and the haze kept us from seeing Guadeloupe, so we were flying by instrument. There were a few boats ahead of us and a visual reverence could be taken from one of those. We each took an hour at the helm and both guys picked up steering quite well, yes, both over steered, but not nearly as badly as some. Our speeds were good at 6-8 knots, we were making great time and the miles were falling off behind us.
Jon had mentioned his trip would be a success if he was able to see some marine life. We had been seeing turtles around the boat in the harbor, but when he spotted some dolphins coming up behind us he was truly amazed. Out came the cameras, and Ariel went to the bow to watch the magnificent creatures play in our bow wave, while they were still around the boat I spotted a whale spout well ahead of us, then told the guys to look forward as two humpbacks surfaced and one threw it's flukes in the air before diving. We did not see another spout from them, but in the moderate seas in which we were sailing that is not so strange. No sooner had the humpbacks disappeared I looked back and saw two pilot whales approaching, now all the attention turned to them, then there were two more and then two more. Generally when I see these they are in a herd of six to eight and I think we saw them all. What a way to start out the trip, I often see one of these species, but all three of the large mammals in one day is rare.
Shortly after our animal kingdom sightings I noticed a rain squall coming in from up wind. As it approached I tried to assess it's size and intensity, concluding that it was small, so might not contain too much wind. This is normally a time to be reefing, make smaller, the sails, but I felt we could simply turn away from the wind and reduce it's power. I explained all of this and when the wind finally arrived it just barely went above the strength where I should reef, and never over 26 as we ran away from it, so turning away easily brought it down to safe levels and it only lasted a few minutes. Once the rain arrives, the wind dies down.
By now we could start to see Guadeloupe, just a dark shape in the haze, but soon became an island, then hills, becoming trees. As expected our approach to the end of the island brought the wind wrapping around the end and following the coastline. These winds are often accelerated above the sustained wind and this was no different, but came from nearly straight behind so was of little concern. Of far more concern are the numerous fish trap markers that dot the shallow water along the coast. I knew they were coming so we had taken in our fish lines, alas, again no fish caught. Then sailed to a point just outside of Deshaise were we started the motor and took down the sails for the entry into the harbor. Ariel took the boat all the way in to anchor and did a good job of avoiding the many boats anchored here.
Once settled in we headed for shore, them to see the quaint French Caribbean town and me to do the official checkin. The French islands do it right, you sit down at a computer, fill in all the information and print out the form, the person at the internet cafe, bar or chandlery puts on a rubber stamp and you are in, and out usually. No more filling in five sets of copies of the same information, crew list and declarations, one stop, done.
Tuesday morning the kids headed out to see some of the countryside by bus. We had discussed what I know of the place, used the Lonely Planet guide and they had done some investigating before leaving home and had some idea what to see. How were we to know there was a bus strike on one of the legs they needed to travel, which is not unusual in France, so they made the obvious choice for an American, they rented a car to drive themselves. Actually by using the car they saw more of the island than they would have seen by bus. They took in some small towns, had a French lunch, a waterfall, where Jon irritated an old back injury and were able to get several pictures. It was also a very good idea for them to have paid me when they arrived, Jon left his wallet in the rental car. The guy said he would mail it, maybe he will.
Wednesday we sailed the nine miles to Pigeon Island, then snorkeled that area in the afternoon. This is one of the better snorkeling spots and is never a disappointment, with a clear sky the visibility was very good. This calm passage was a good time to start knot tying, so out came the practice cleat and a line. The story is told that Jacque Cousteu claimed that this place has some of the best diving in the world. I am not so sure I agree with that statement, there are many places that are much better, but this is good. As the boys had not done much snorkeling, this was very exciting for them and the fish did not disappoint. Jon picked up the anchor this morning and ran into trouble. Before the anchor was all the way up the windlass stopped working. I quickly went forward and lifted it by hand and would worry about getting things fixed later. As it turned out, Jon had changed the process of stowing the chain in the locker but out of the box, which meant he was pulling the chain out of place, inadvertently pulling it into the wires that run the motor, finally breaking the wire from it's end fitting. I will never understand why people do not accept the instructions given and not try to reinvent the wheel by doing things differently, but this is a common error.
Early Thursday morning we picked up the anchor to sail the 27 miles to The Saints, a small group of small islands that are part of Guadeloupe. The area is very French, has an interesting fort and nice clear water for those that want to get wet. The first couple of hours were very disappointing. Given the high hills of Guadeloupe, much of the wind is blocked by land. The forecast was for light wind anyway, and we had very light wind. We tried to sail away from land to get cleaner air, but the sea breeze was beginning, so the wind wanted to push us right back to the island. I finally needed to give up and start the engine. This was another good time to work on knots, so I gave them a couple more to learn and that kept them busy. We motored for about 12 miles before the breeze started to fill in and we were able to sail and turn off the motor. We had not done any tacking up to this point in the trip, so before we were out in the open and subject to the swells where we would need to turn into the wind, we practiced the mechanics of tacking. The guys picked it up very quickly and were able to continue flawless tacks all day, there were over twenty of them.We finally arrived at The Saints just before sundown on 6 May, put the boat in order and it was time to get dinner ready, then connect to wifi and discover the wild ride the market had taken that day. The after dinner discussion centered around what to do tomorrow. Friday morning the decision was made to rent a couple of scooters, do Fort Napoleon in the morning and tour the rest of the island later. This little fort has an excellent museum and describes the sea battles and live aboard for the early navies of the world.
Friday was spent touring The Saints by rental scooter. The boys did not leave much time for the fort, which is the most interesting spot on the island, but they did beaches and had another great French lunch. I spent the day loosing my ass on the market.On Saturday we headed out toward Dominica, 42 miles away. The route out of The Saints is around and between islands in deep water, then through a narrow passage between rocks on both sides, some of them above the surface, before finding the deep water between the islands. In good light the path is easily seen. The heading was easy, again east winds and a southerly course, we were rarely higher than 60 degrees, the winds were gentle seldom higher than high teens, the sky was gun metal gray, with a few spots where rain could be seen falling, the swell was comfortable at 4-6 feet. Ariel spotted a couple of spouts on the horizon, then with some looking we spotted the black fins of Pilot whales. They never come to play with the boat and only keep going on their way, we soon lost contact with them. One squall did try to give us some concern, but as it approached the wind went just over 25 knots and as we turned away to reduce the apparent wind it faded as quickly. We were soon back on course and still under full sail.
The only real excitement was on our approach to Portsmouth. Ariel had taken a heading that took us a bit too close to shore. When we entered the wind shadow of that big rock the wind swirled and finally was pushing us toward shore, which was far too close. I finally took over, gibed to take us away from shore, then when we were back into some wind I tacked to put us back on course. Once around that rock the wind really picked up. The harbor of Portsmouth has two large mountains on shore, sort of like book ends, with a valley between them. The wind that can not go through the mountains funnels into the valley and down into the harbor. I often see 25-30 knots of wind in this harbor, today was no different, as well as the swirling caused by the hills. We did four tacks to get in close enough to start the engine and motor the short distance to where I wanted to anchor.
Even before getting the anchor down we were surrounded by the local business men, read that overaggressive boat boys for which Dominica is famous, wanting to sell a mooring, local fruit, trips, tours and anything that could get a dollar out of our pocket and into his. The one thing that interested us was a night out on shore. The local boat boy association is having a fund raiser, where for EC$40. one can eat all you want, and drink your choice of beer or rum punch, while listening to music. In the past Dominica has had a reputation for late night boarding, which are uninvited guests calling while you are asleep and dinghy thefts. The Boat Boy Association now patrols the anchorage at night and this seems to have lowered the incidence of problems, so we are happy to support that group. As this sounds like a great end to a wonderful day of sailing we will give that a try. As it turned out, some of the details as explained by Edson were not quite as described. The buffet was limited in quantity, there was no beer and the rum punch was strong enough to wake a dead pirate and to assure you did not want more than a couple glasses, along with the price that seemed to have increased to EC$50, still a good deal and the cruiser turn out was good.
Sunday the guys wanted to do a land tour while I moved the boat about twenty five miles to Roseau on the southern end of the island. After a late night they were not in such a hurry to get up and out of bed. I was getting very nervous because I had a long distance to move the boat and wanted to arrive long before dark. It was nearly eleven when I had them ashore and was able to get underway. This would be their first chance to negotiate a tour package with the locals. There are lots of guys who claim to be tour guides, some of them even have a car, or know someone that does. So the adventure began with the guys finding a local on shore who would provide them with a tour. First he needed to find someone with a car. Finally someone was found, but alas he wanted to spend the day with his girlfriend, so a couple phone calls and someone else arrived that could drive. When asked how much they would pay, the guys offered too much and that was the end of the negotiation. Both the driver and the original guy went for the whole day.The passage was uneventful, following the coastline, in the lee of a high island there is little wind and all of that comes from everywhere. I needed to motor the first hour, then slogged along very slowly until I was nearly at Roseau when the wind died, then wrapped around the southern end of the island so it was right on my nose. I motored the last hour also, I hate motoring. Again no fish. We had prearranged a meeting place but not the time. I was about to start making dinner when I spotted a couple guys sitting on a dock nearby, I did not make too much of this as no one was signaling. Within a few minutes I heard my name called, and sure enough the two guys sitting on the dock, were the guys I was expecting. Everyone was settled in before dark.
I thought the guys intended to do another land tour on Monday, but they surprised me and wanted to move on. They had also expressed a desire to do a night sail. I was not so convinced. They seemed eager enough to learn, but had about four passages under their belts to this point and had been doing alright up to now, but I was there to talk them through everything they needed to do. Still, the conditions were favorable, the wind forecast was for light winds, for some reason I had a brain fart and said yes. Everything is done in the same way during a night passage, you just can't see anything and Otto does the steering at night. Also, previous crew have always been excited about night passages, but they either can not keep their eyes open or get motion sick and I end up doing all the sailing for the night passage. Because of the greater distance we would cover during the night we had decided to skip the first town, St Pierre, and go all the way to Fort de France.
To get out of Roseau it is necessary to motor the first nearly five miles to clear the island. I had removed the mail sail cover before we left so the main would be ready to hoist. As we approached the end of protection I asked that the main be raised, again reminding them to always look up to be sure the halyard is not fouled before hauling. They assured me everything was clear. The fact that they could not raise the sail very far by hand should have warned me something was amiss. Then when they started to winch the sail up the rest of the way it was making noises it should not be making. I told them to stop, went up to the mast to see what was going on and right away could see the halyard was fouled on one of the mast steps. I could not get the sail down. So we turned around to motor the hour back to where we had been anchored. We could not anchor anywhere close as this is a marine park and anchoring is not permitted. Jon steered while I tried to bring down the sail by winching down the leech reef lines, then climbing the battens and using my weight to pull it down, which did not work. Finally I took a line part way up the mast, tied it off to the luff reef cringles, then winched that line down, the sail came down one reef point at a time, then I would climb the mast and tie off the line to the next one, tighten the leech reef lines, then winch the luff cringles until finally it gave and came down. The suggestion was made that perhaps we could still sail, to which I replied that it was going to be necessary to inspect the halyard and sail to be sure no damage was done. The worst damage was the webbing that holds the headboard to the slides had been torn. I was able to repair that in the morning.
After we found our way into the anchorage and were secured it was after midnight. I told the guys I was going to go up the mast to inspect the halyard and sail. I found the mast step to be badly bent, but needed the halyard to be near the position where it was stressed, so I told them I would go up the mast, have them haul the sail up by hand to that point and I could look things over. Sure enough the halyard is also cut at that spot. It is only through the outer cover so the inner core should still hold. I had replaced that halyard at the beginning of this year. I was not pleased about this whole turn of events. The topper was after I had inspected that which needed to be inspected I had them lower the sail. Then I began climbing down. When I nearly reached the boom I took the halyard in my hands and was going to let myself down. I was in for a surprise, they had not secured the halyard, so when I put my weight on it, it simply let go, leaving me to fall the twelve feet to the deck. I was able to grab another line but was moving so fast by then I was only able to slow myself to a reasonable speed before landing on the boom for which I was aiming. The worst damage was some very nasty rope burns to my hands from the line sliding through. I used cold water and ice cubes to cool the burn, but it was a week before the blisters were gone and things got back to normal.
Early the next morning I was up, made coffee and we got underway. While moving I repaired the webbing that secures the headboard so we were ready to sail. Given the shortened sailing time we headed for St Pierre. when we had enough distance from the island. Before we cleared the island and began sailing I had the guys close all the hatches and remove the hatch covers. The wind did the usual wrap around the island and blow right on our nose, but that did not last long and soon enough we were sailing along, right on course and making great time. Course the wind strength was very nearly at the point when reefing is necessary, and that time soon arrived. I put one reed in each of the sails, but found we could not quite hold course with less sail area. The higher winds came and went through the whole passage so I could not release the reefs but that also gave us enough extra speed that we changed our heading back to Fort de France. The wind was also building the sea state, which was now approaching eight feet and we had water splashing on deck. When I went to make lunch I used the head and discovered the guys had not properly secured the hatches and salt water had come through each of them, over my parts and tools in the forward cabin, in the head and on my bed. I was not happy and told them it is necessary to pay attention to details, like securing hatches. I did not bring up clearing halyards, but I am sure they had that on their minds also. These guys have been great fun, but they do not have much of an idea what makes a boat operate well and seem to let many things slide when they can.
About six miles from the town the wind died so we needed to start the motor, the seas thought the wind was still blowing 25 knots so it was like a washing machine, finally we took down the sails to keep them from beating themselves to death, twenty minutes later the wind return and we could have sailed, but were nearly there by then. During the final approach to Fort de France we could see a squall heading our way, it was impressive, with a monster rainbow and a curtain of water that obscured the shore. This is also the approach for the French ferries that service the nearby towns. Prior to getting into the rain squall I had been watching a ferry approach, we would be very close when we pass, so I slowed to let him go ahead. About that time the wind from the squall hit us with over 30 knots, we were going too slow and the wind simply spun us in a circle, then with the wind behind us the rain arrived, an absolute deluge, the galley hatch was left open and the wind driven rain was blown all the way across the saloon.
The next day the guys rented a car and did the usual American tourist trip, drive around. While I sat for hours in an internet cafe' trying to contact one of the officials in St Lucia Customs, I spoke with a couple of underlings and secretaries, but no official. Remember when I left St Lucia without clearing out, well now I want to clear in again and do not want to have any serious problems when I arrive. At eleven he had gone to lunch and at two thirty he had not returned from lunch. No one else was willing to express an opinion.
They did see St Pierre, a town that was destroyed in 1906 when Mount Pelee erupted, killed 30,000 people, most of the white population of the island and buried the whole town with ash. One man survived, he was locked in a subterranean jail and was saved from the heat, he was found three days later. This happened just six days after Sufriere on St Vincent erupted killing 3,000.
We arrived St Lucia Thursday afternoon after a pleasant sail down from Martinique under nearly clear skies and an easy motion in the swells. The wind was a bit contrary and stronger than I would like, so I reefed the sails, but then Otto could not hold our heading. We needed to do five tacks to get in.
As usual we dragged a couple of fish lines, then pulled up an empty fish line. It is hard to put a Caribbean fish in the freezer.
From St Lucia south I would not have any crew, was ready for that. Sometimes it is better to not have anyone around to piss me off. I enjoyed slow sailing in gentle winds, usually waiting for the wind to pick up before leaving. Spent some time with local friends in St Vincent, then some time in Bequia, before moving to Carriacou, then on to Grenada, where I sat for a few weeks before heading out for Margarita.
Grenada to Margarita
The passage from Grenada to Margarita was pretty easy. I left mid afternoon on a Friday for the 140 mile downwind, downcurrent run. The forecast was for winds in the low twenties, dying to mid teens by Saturday, all from the east or southeast, I was going slightly south of west so all of this was good. Included in the forecast was 100 percent cloud cover, with a small chance of rain. As this was the very end of the moon cycle there would be no light from above.
The first several hours everything went as planned, wind in the high teens, I was making good time and the miles were slipping past. The the wind began to lessen and turn slightly, more and more behind me, to counteract this I tried wing on wing, which is using one sail out on each side, which catches a lot more of the light wind, but is a much tighter steering angle. This only worked for a short time, then OTTO finally oversteered and the main backwinded and I was stuck, there is no way to steer out of that and the only correction is to ease the main to the other side, get back on course and set for a better wind angle. The wind continued to drop off to ten knots so the going was very slow.
I passed Los Testios a couple hours after sunrise, now only fifty miles to go. The current in this area was in my favor, a knot or more in the right direction, so even if the wind died I could drift to where I wanted to go. I am willing to motor the last hour to get in but hate starting the motor six hours away, anyway progress was still being made.
Shortly after passing Testigos a large dark cloud was seen heading off the mainland, about thirty miles to my south. These small systems can carry plenty of wind and rain, generated by the mountainous interior of Venezuela. Watching it for awhile made it apparent it would pass behind me. It had a wall of rain embedded under it and the gray of the cloud extended right down to the ocean surface.
It was apparent I would not make it in before dark, so I knew I would violate my own aversion to arriving after dark, the consulation is I have been in this port several times and know the area. With a very large shallow anchoring area I would not need to get close to anyone else.
Much of the last 20 miles were done at less than two knots, the last 10 at nearly three and where the current splits to go around Margarita it tried to take me north with it. It was 23:00 when I rounded the last point before turning into the anchorage. With the many lights on shore it was easy to see the other anchored boats and there was lots of room between them, so I simply sailed between them, turned into the wind, furled the headsail, dropped the anchor, then lowered the main. Another safe arrival.
I will stay here through the hurricane season and be ready for another year of adventure about late November or early December.
