April 27, 2007

We left Fort Pierce in a weather forecast of 10-15 knots. The tide against wind caused the waves at the entrance to the inlet. Jan almost bailed out when a 60 foot power boat went passed us and then immediately turned around and went back in! We survived and hit 10.4 knots with a 100% jib and a full main.

We are in no rush so we are just meandering down through the Keys of Florida. VERY shallow water. It's intimidating watching the bottom slide by at 6 knots when you can see it so clearly. Then you come to a red and green markers out in the middle of nowhere and you have to sail through a channel only 100 feet wide with power boats creating huge wakes.

Winds pick up quickly and there really aren't any bays to shelter in. Everything is so flat you just have to tuck in as close as you can and listen to the wind howling in the rigging.

So far we have only dragged once. We managed to get a blanket wrapped around the anchor and when the wind hit 60 mph we scooted across the bay for almost a mile before the visibility improved enough to realize what had happened. Jan slept all the way through it. Now the GPS anchor alarm is set every night.

June 25, 2007

We made it to Georgetown and stopped! It's a nice place to hang out. Not
too cheap, but we drink on the boat until we are half cut and THEN go to
the open air bar 50 yards away on the beach. Rum is $6 a bottle and beer
is $45 a case....so guess what we are drinking?

We are not out of the hurricane belt, but Georgetown hasn't been hit hard
since 1926 when it was wiped out! so, we are either safe, or due for the
big one!

Paul and Jan

November 28, 2007

Well, it’s been five days since we bounced over the reef.

It all started back before Hurricane Noel. We had sailed from Georgetown against 20 knots, trying to get to Conception, but giving up and spending the night at Long Island. We tried again the next day and made it to the deserted island park. Lots of coral heads in the anchorage made for some uncomfortable moments when the wind picked up, but the anchor held. Rum Cay was next and 15 miles took us almost 7 hours to cover. The guide books said the best place south of Georgetown to wait out bad weather was Rum Cay but he anchorage could be a bit rollie. A bit? Noel couldn’t make up it’s mind which way to go, so we sat, rolled and waited. Eventually, we headed for the marina when Noel decided to come our way. Every line on the boat secured us to the dock and pilings, then the mail boat arrived. This large, rusting heap tied to the same dock as us on the outside. If the dock gave way, we were on the wrong side of all this steel. The marina owner came out and told the freighter it had to move, which they did, and then informed us that the dredging they had done had weakened all the pilings that we had tied to and we should set an anchor or two to be safe. It was too late to move further inside so we checked the lines and closed the hatches.

Three days of rain lashing against the boat at 90 degrees shows you where all the leaks are. Fortunately, Jan has never thrown away a plastic container, and we used every one of them to catch the drips. The real wind didn’t pick up until the last day, and then 50 to 55 knots had the boat heeled at 20 degrees. The lines creaked and the boat groaned but we had no damage at all. We waited one extra day before leaving to make sure the weather was clearing up and then left.

The wind was out of the North East and sent us off towards the Turks and Caicos at 6 or 7 knots. Once we were out of the lee of Rum Cay, the left over swells were up to 20 feet. But the wind was blowing the right way and we were making great time. We managed 152 miles in 26 hours. Too bad that the self steering broke, as that meant hand steering for 20 hours.

This is when the problems started. As dark set in we were north of Mayaguana and East reef. Don had ripped his mainsail and had fallen behind by a few miles. In order to let him catch up we stalled our boat waiting for him. Now it was dark and we had been out for 24 hours and I started making mistakes. We didn’t have an accurate GPS fix on our chart plotter not thinking this area would be on of our places to visit, so we decided to heave to. Never having tried this when it was calm, I didn’t realize how difficult our boat would be to slow down. No self steering meant no way to motor, so I settled for drifting with a small headsail. This worked and we pulled away from the island sufficiently to try for an hours sleep. It was now about 1 am and even with 25 knots and huge swells I thought 1 or 2 hours sleep would be safe.

1 ½ hours later we hit the reef. The boat was on it’s side and huge, breaking waves crashed over the whole boat. By the time I got to the wheel it was all I could do to hang on as the water came over us. Jan stayed below, getting bashed around and just trying to hang on. One wave actually carried a flying fish on board. By now the 3rd or 4th wave had hit us and lifted us over the reef into deep enough water to float us upright again. I believed we had hit the reef from the north side and bounced off, and started steering north away from the island. As it happened we had sailed around the reef, as I thought, but then had been carried back onto the reef on the SOUTH side by the current. This meant that, by steering north, I was heading into the center of the lagoon rather than away from it. It was pitch black, visibility of about 25 yards and I could hear waves breaking hard on our starboard side. If we were heading out into open water, where was this noise coming from? Anchoring seemed the obvious thing to do while we got our bearings. Then the anchor started to drag. Not much, but we didn’t know where we were, or where any coral heads were either. We hauled up the anchor after about ½ hour and tried to motor our way around the reef to an opening that didn’t show clearly on our chart, keeping the crashing waves to port. Then we hit bottom again, and again. Turning back on our GPS track we re-anchored in about 6 ½ feet, and this timed it held.

It was now about 3.30 am and we had no where to go, so back to bed. The wind was still blowing hard, but behind the reef the water was relatively calm. Jan woke up first, to see this large, rusty hulk of a wrecked freighter no more than 100 yards away. The waves were still crashing over it, and the reef, when Jan shot some shaky video of the whole scene. The scene was very frightening when you consider how close we had come to being alongside that freighter without ever seeing it, or the reef. We must have come over a deeper part of the reef and had managed to float free. Our brand new dinghy was gone. We had apparently severed the painter with our prop so we had no way to dinghy around to find our way out.. We hailed ‘all stations’ on the VHF to try to get some guidance as to how to get out of the lagoon. No answer. A few hours later we see Don, sailing towards us!. He could see our mast and thought we were in an anchorage a few miles away. His radio had taken one of the large waves and he couldn’t hear our warnings to stay away. At the last minute he changed course and sailed off to safety.

Then the cavalry came. Three local Fishermen from a wilderness fishing camp had recognized that no sailboat could possibly be anchored where we were and came out to investigate. Anton took over the helm, Lloyd pulled up the second anchor we had laid, and Gary dove down to free the main anchor that had fouled on the coral. I sat back and, while Jan poured extremely large rum and cokes for everyone, started to get my heart beat back somewhere close to normal.

They took us to the main entrance of the bay and we anchored for the night, thinking how good it was to be rolling around as much as we were because we were still floating. An hour later Anton, dreadlocks and all, came out to the boat and invited us to the camp for a seafood supper. Grouper, lobster, rice and salad. The guests of the camp must have been paying big bucks for this and we were getting it for free. Admittedly, our story provided the after dinner conversation, but…

We had decided to leave the next day, but nobody was ready to head out again yet, so we moved further into the bay and anchored just off the camp. On our way in we saw a small boat heading out to meet us. We thought it was Anton or one of his crew, but when we looked closer we saw it was someone else towing a dinghy….our dinghy. They had found it outside of the reef and were returning it to us. So now we were mobile again and considered ourselves to be very fortunate.

The pink beach we could see from a distance turned out to be flamingos wading in the shallows, and beach combing in such a remote place yielded a few beautiful shells for Jans growing collection. When Anton motored out to the boat with a fresh invite to the camp for supper, conch salad, more lobster and a half bottle of rum to replace the one we had polished off during the rescue, things inside the reef began to look way more friendly than it had a few short hours before.

I am still amazed that the only damage done to the boat was a few deep scratches below the water line and two small chunks broken off the rudder. We were very lucky.

That was our adventure story. The rest of our trip has been less exciting but way more fun. The Bahamians are the most friendly people. The locals at Mayaguana are STILL waiting for the mail boat to show up and is now 2 weeks late. This is the same boat that stayed at the marina at Rum Cay and was 9 days behind it’s schedule at that time. This means no fresh produce and the grocery store is almost out of everything else. The local bar had no beer, rum, coke and only 6 ginger ales and 6 7 ups. So some of the concoctions we were all drinking were quite exotic. Today, the bar owner flew in some fresh booze, but says that won’t last until the weekend, and payday is Monday. ‘Nothing new’ they say with a smile and keep playing dominos.

We met Thomas and his wife at the bar. He is in charge of construction at the 100 million dollar resort being built here. He has promised to take us on a tour of the island, and his project tomorrow. Surprisingly, he used to own a house on Manhattan Drive. Small world!

Paul Smedley

Hi Everyone.

We finally moved off the dock at Provodenciales last Friday. the cut through the reef is really difficult to navigate in any kind of north swell, so when the opportunity came we dashed out and started to head south. To get south, you have to cross the shallow banks for almost 40 miles. They are marked with routes that have been surveyed and show the depths. But...only if you stay on the correct line. 100 yards off, which is where we found ourselves, is too much and we ran onto a shoal. It took us an hour to get off but no damage, except to my ego.

We ended up at a bay that wasn't sheltered from the strong winds and we almost lost the new wind generator overboard when a fitting let go. Fortunatley we managed to wrestle it back on board and re-fastened it with tighter fittings and rope with no damage ....again.

Now we are in Grand Turk close to the cruise ship dock. I woke up this morning to see this huge white wall going by about 100 yards away, it scared the hell out of me. So the beach today was crawling with the passengers. They only stayed 10 hours and have already left. We walked into town about 2 miles away, and it's small and old but really well kept. Most of the other islands have junk everywhere but this one is nice. Apparently this is Coumbus's official landing place in the 'new' world.

We have a weather window to leave and head south to Puerto Rico on Thursday...we think.. and will head to the Spanish, US and British Virgins after that. We have decided to bypass the Dominican Republic as we'll probably spend next hurricane season there. I have included some recent photos but these maybe the last for a while as the camera got splashed with rain water and quit. It's under extended warantee but freighting things around here is sooooooo expensive.

Super bowl Sunday tomorrow and the owner of the local beach front bar was in the grocery store today and gave us a ride back to the boat. The game is on TV and free food and cheap drinks are available. That means we play volley ball until 4pm then into the condo swimming pool, really small, but if they let us take our shampoo in there, we can save on bath water. Then into the open air pub for the game. So much excitment for us old foggies it'll take a while to recover.

Hope everything is still good with you. Paul and Jan

Monday, March 3, 2008

We had been staying at Turtle Cove Marina for the last two months. Jans’ niece lives on Provo., Turks and Caicos Islands and her, and her husband, work for the H.A.B. Group. The owners of this business own water front property in the marina and we could tie up to their dock for as long as we wanted without charge. We needed some spare parts and so decide to sit and wait while they arrived. The fact that the entrance thru the reef was so rough in any kind of north swell and, of course we arrived in a north swell, didn‘t affect our decision at all. The boat actually surfed thru the cut while the onlookers called us on the radio and suggested we give it more throttle. Holding the throttle down with both hands doesn’t really help to increase the power from a 25 hp diesel, but I was the only thing I could think of as the boats’ stern started to twitch as we went thru. It was over as soon as it had begun and on we went into the marina, trying to slow down the heart rate just a tad.

We were adopted by the father of the owners of the local bar and he drove us around to grocery and hardware stores. We also spent Christmas having a full turkey dinner at the family party held at the ‘Sharkbite’ Next door to the Sharkbite pub is a small apartment complex. The managers are also sailors and asked us when we last had a long hot shower, I guess our lack of bathing showed. We conserve water as much as possible and as such hadn’t showered for many a long week. They offered us the use of the penthouse suite overlooking the marina for the whole weekend. Big screen TV, microwave, and long hot showers. Or so we thought. Jan did some laundry first, and used all the hot water. So the long hot shower became a quick cold one. The next morning the long hot shower was still lingering at the top of the list of things to do, but the sound of dripping water took priority and off I went in search of the drip. It had rained all the previous afternoon and night, so I thought that the roof may have had a leak. Closer inspection showed both water heaters had rotted away and the water in fact was dripping from them and down into the apartment below. We mopped up with the help of a Wet and Dry vacuum and, as we had to shut off the water at the main, still didn’t manage to get our hot showers. That was a month ago and we are still unshowered.

We ended up staying at Provodenciales for over two months. Getting the right parts shipped from all the suppliers is an expensive nightmare. We did, however, manage to get everything we needed and left the marina for the anchorage on the other side of the island. From there we sailed across the banks for 35 miles in water so clear it was hard to believe we were floating in it. The shadow of the sails showed up clearly on the sand bottom and the appearance of a dolphin and her baby off the beam made it an even better day.. That night we had some winds gusting to the 30 plus knots range. The anchor held without a problem but the new wind generator went for a swim when a fitting let go. It remained attached to the boat by only one support and the power cable. It only weighs 25 lbs, but on the end of a 9 foot pole we had a tough time getting it out of the water and tied off to the transom. The next day a young American couple offered to help refit it and that was the beginning of the resurgence of my competitive spirit. As it turns out they are also heading south via either the Dominican Republic or Puerto Rico ending up in the Virgin Islands. We are heading in the same general direction and decided to sail on together. The weather window wasn’t looking too good for a long haul south but Cockburn Harbour had little to offer. Grand Turk, to the east, looked much better and off we went. His boat is a Caliber 28 and I thought I would have to keep the reigns on our boat so we didn’t lose him too easily. Once out of the shelter of the headland the wind and waves picked up and so did our speed, with him right along side. A bit of trimming added some speed, but he was still right along side. The wind picked up to 18 knots, the seas to 6/7 feet and he was still right along side. 20 miles later he was still right along side. Once we were anchored safely he commented on how fast our boat was and that he had to keep increasing his engine revs. to stay with us!

We now find ourselves close to the cruise ship dock at Grand Turk. There is no real harbour here just shelter from the prevailing winds. The water is very deep not too far from shore which means the dock is really close to the anchorage. It’s quiet unnerving to wake up at 6.30am to see this wall passing only 50 yards astern. The hustle and bustle of dive , fishing and snorkel boats lasts all day. Then, come dusk, the cruise ship leaves again and the boats are all moored up until the next time.

We will leave on Wednesday or Thursday morning as the weather window opens for Puerto Rico. The passage between The Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico is called the Mona Passage and has been described as difficult if the weather is not cooperative and in the next few days the weather forecast is good for the trip. It’s over 300 miles from here and should take about three days and nights . After that it’s all short day sails through the island chain. We are looking forward to seeing some mountains again. Up to now the highest hill we have seen is 260 feet!

Still Cruising., Paul and Jan

Puerto Rico, finally

Heading for Luperon in the Dominican Republic we found head wind of 18 to 20 knots. So, what else is new? The boat ‘Another Adventure’ turned back and we thought ‘what a wimp’. Then we were in the middle of a squall with 40 knots of wind. We only had about 5 miles to go to hide behind Big Sand Cay so we dropped sails and started to motor, only to see smoke coming out of the engine room. We shut down the engine and checked everything out. Couldn’t find anything wrong so Jan suggested I clean the salt spray off my glasses, and that fixed the problem!

We were only at the bay by ourselves for about an hour before Glen showed up in his 1935 Atkins schooner. He was a throw back to the 1970s hippie era and heading for the Antigua classic boat race week.. We ended up sailing with him for about 3 weeks and never saw him raise a sail. ’Too much like work’ he would tell us. By dark the bay had filled with another 10 boats all hiding from the weather, none of which was forecast.. We stayed for three days before heading off to Luperon. An overnight sail for over 80 miles. The slowest boats left first at about 3.00pm with us at 5.00pm and the fast cats not leaving until almost dark. This worked well and we all arrived within 2 hours of each other.

Luperon is the recommended hurricane hole in the north Caribbean because the terrain breaks up the storm track and is so sheltered nothing can penetrate, but boy, is it dirty. We only stayed 10 days but had a coral type growth about 2" long all over the hull. Enough to take over a knot off the boats speed! However, the Dominican people are almost a friendly as the Bahamians. They have next to nothing but will share it with you willingly. Beer is $2 a 32oz. bottle (Randy, are you listening?) and a half chicken dinner is $5, provided that everyone in your group orders the same meal! Steves Place had free showers (cold), free internet and a free swimming pool, even if it was small. Needless to say we spent some time there.

When it came time to leave, our little group crashed a meeting at the local ‘yacht club?’ Bruce Van Sant had been invited by the lady in charge. He wrote the ‘Passages South’ cruising guide and is the local weather guru. We all listened while the discussion continued over a few beers and the next night was the night to leave. ‘Use the night lee’ was the theme to head over 200 miles down the Dominican coast. so we all waited for the wind to die. Some got impatient and decide to head to the mouth of the bay and re-anchor foe a quick get away only to have Van Sant chastise them on the VHF radio for ‘leaving too early’ although his book suggests to do just what they were doing. Then to repeat his suggestion that no boat should ever pull up anchor without having a reefed mainsail set, even if they were only going half a mile? Then to suggest that the whole fleet of boats planning on leaving that night should read his book because nobody should leave until the conditions were right. Wasn’t he at the meeting when he decided it was a good time to leave. Anyway, we all left together at 10pm, only to get hammered by 18 to 23 knots right on the nose. No night lee was apparent and some boats turned back after a few hours. We have just met up with one of those boats who turned back after 3 months.

We sailed for 60 hours with a quick stop over in Rio San Juan to allow some of the boats to refuel. Glen, and his Atkins were there first but had used most of his diesel. We left again at dark with one of our group leaving behind his new anchor and chain because it was fouled and he didn’t want to/be left behind. Nobody knew of his problem until we arrived in Puerto Rico. He reckoned about $2000 to replace it, but that’s another story. We sailed the rest of the way to Mayaguez P.R. and arrived only about 6 hours behind the group who motorsailed across the Mona Passage. The water here shoals to only 150 deep across the Hourglass shoal and can be exceedingly rough. The tides currents and wind create unpredictable water flow and constant communications between the boats showed no rhyme or reason to the correct course to take. GPS showed boats 3 miles apart receiving totally different readings. We sailed on through and were feeling pretty good with our progress until 25 miles off Puerto Rico. I had gone below for some sleep when Jan woke me to say we were on a collision course for a rock. This rock turned out to be Isla Descheo, a large island about 18 miles away…… and I went back to sleep. Jan woke me again, minutes? Later to say a boat had just suddenly appeared 100 feet behind us with a huge spotlight shining at us. He approached with no lights or radio contact and sped off into the darkness almost as fast as he arrived. We still don’t know who he was, or what he wanted. Some speculation suggested the US Coast Guard on the look out for illegal alien smuggling, but shouldn’t they identify themselves? We’ll never know who it was, but I didn’t go back to sleep.

Arriving at customs at Mayaguez was an interesting experience. I had been refused entry into Miami by the American Gestapo (know as Homeland security) on my British passport. But now, as I have a Canadian one as well, I thought I would give it a go and see if I could get deported again. Not only was I welcomed but given access to the country, without any kind of formality, to walk 2 miles down to the immigration office to check in. Then to return through the back door of the customs building to have our papers stamped with a smile. Welcome to the US of A!

Paul and Jan

May 23, 2008, "The crewing job", Turks and Caicos again

We were sitting quietly below deck when someone knocked on the hull. "Would I be willing to help a family of 4 sail their boat to The Bahamas?" Being a good Samaritan, and needing the money they would pay, I said "of course". A check on the weather and a quick meeting on the boat to get to know them, the boat, and Lori, the other crew member, and we were all set.

Lori is a young woman who lives in Culebra on her engineless 25 foot Catalina. She sails single handed, in and out of the reefs surrounding the entrance to Ensenada Honda. A good addition to the crew as there is no working auto pilot and we would have to hand steer for almost 800 miles. The fact that Lori spent the first 24 hours hanging over the side of the boat, feeding the fishes, didn’t stop her from taking her shift and slowly we settled into a routine.

Heading back along the thorny passage should have been a lot easier than heading south. But the prevailing South Easterlies decided to blow from the North, so once again, we had to beat into it. I’d never sailed a cruising catamaran before which is one of the reasons to take the delivery, beside the money, or did I mention that? This one was a Gemini 34 coastal cruiser, and pounded so hard into the smallest waves that the salon table could be visibly seen to lift as the waves slammed under the bridge deck. Undaunted, we headed for the large squalls that lay in waiting. Large black clouds on the horizon with horizontal lightening leading the charge. A course change seemed logical, but the clouds seemed to anticipate what we did and followed us into the night-time. The display was impressive. Even behind the thick cloud the sky would glow. By now the whole crew was on watch as we tried to find an avenue that would let us navigate through the cells. A few hours later we saw what appeared to be an opening in the gloom and headed straight through into a perfectly clear sky, and the storm cells stayed a respectable distance behind us for the rest on the night. We didn’t even get wet.

We left the Coast of Puerto Rico and headed North towards the Turks and Caicos. Tom wanted to fly the sails ‘wing on wing’ and nothing could change his mind as to how slow this was. As well as being tiring on the helmsman. This meant a change of plan from the original course and we now headed towards the Mouchoir Bank. A few breaking reefs in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately we passed them in daylight in relatively clam seas. We were a little closer to them than I had planned and the depth sounder showed 100 feet. A quick alteration to starboard and we dropped back into very deep water and headed for Grand Turk.

Everyone says you shouldn’t enter a harbor at night time, but I had been here before and it was very straight forward. Just as well because we lost our steering about 500 yards out. It was midnight and the wind was blowing to 25+ knots. Everyone was ready for a rest. We could turn to starboard but not port , So we decided we should go a round in circles for a while. It was too rough to really see what was wrong, so I lashed a line to the port side rudder and heaved whenever we needed to turn in that direction. Interesting to hang over the back of the boat, pulling on a line while yelling directions to the owner about where to anchor in the dark. The biggest problem was the unlit boats already at anchor. You just couldn’t see them until you were right on top of them, and I was on the stern. We set up a relay from the bow to pass verbal instructions and managed to get settled in without too much trouble.

The family and Lori left the next morning to explore the town and I set to repairing the rudder. One of the control arms had worked loose and, once the locker was cleaned out, wasn’t too difficult to repair. That left me some time to laze around before the pub opened. The cruise ship dock is only 100 yards away from the anchorage and a small village of stores has opened up in the area. No ships were due for a few days so this was all closed down. The swimming pool was not and I made use of the fact that no one else was around to swim and sunbathe on the comfortable loungers. A quick trip to the pub next door provided a cold beer and it was perfect until the security guards chased me out of there. Dripping wet, no shirt, shoes or money I went back to the pub explaining the crew would lend me some cash when they returned. ‘No problem Mon’, I was told and settled in to wait. I must have an honest face.

The weather was proving a little unsettled so we worked a few alternative routes until we knew what it would do. We ended sailing into Cockburn Harbor on South Caicos the next day . Great sail for 35 miles with the wind on the beam, if it wasn’t for all the pounding. There was only 2 other boats in the bay, so we anchored a respectable distance away. Only to find another sailor quick to fill in the empty spot between us and the next boat. 30 minutes later an Irwin 54 tried to anchor in between us. His anchor dragged and the boat slewed around sideways and accelerated towards us. His wife, on the helm, yelled "I can’t hold it" and left the wheel. He rushed back from the bow and took control. Then they moved at full throttle through the anchorage to about 50 yards in front of us, only to drag again, and spun across our anchor line with their engine at full revs. A few choice words sent him off to the other side of the bay. We saw him the next day while we were having lunch on the beach. He made a hasty retreat.

Leaving the next day for a transit across the Turks And Caicos banks should have been straight forward. Tom was indecisive as to which one of the three routes I had planned to take. He didn’t believe the engine was very strong and wanted a path that allowed us to sail. Difficult with a head wind and only narrow channels to follow. His wife had to have a few words with him to make him choose. So we left, without making a choice, and sailed around the island to enter the banks. 100 yards from the reef the engine quit. Lori was driving and we spun the boat back into open water under sail. An hour later we had new filters installed, bled the lines and off we went again. Another hour went by before the engine quit again. A loose wire to the electric fuel pump fixed the issue and away we went, for another hour before it quit again. We pulled some wires out, that didn’t seem to be attached to anything in particular, and rewired a fresh piece to the pump. We never did find out what those wires were supposed to do. This fixed the problem and we had no more difficulty with the engine. Just as well. The wind blew at 20 knots on the nose all the rest of the day and we didn’t arrive at the only real anchorage on the banks until after dark, again.

Everyone was a bit frazzled by the boat issues and the weather wasn’t co-operating either. So the next morning Lori and I took off for the day leaving the family to unwind. We hitched a ride in a pick up truck. Lori inside chatting away to the driver, and me in the back. I guess he was more interested in her than where he was going and we ended up getting a great tour of the island before finding ‘Danny Boys’ Irish pub for lunch. The first two people we saw in there, were the friends who allowed us to stay at the penthouse during our stay on Providenciales. They also knew Lori from their time in Culebra and we arranged to meet at the ‘Shark Bite’ pub for drinks that night. This was our hang out while we were there and it was like old times meeting all the locals. One of Patrick's employees joined us and volunteered to drive us back to our boat, nice to have an attractive young lady as an incentive, and to pick us up the next day so we could attend the dinner Patrick was going to cook for us. What a meal….. and strawberry cobbler for desert …….. And ICE CREAM ....We had to leave the next day or we would have been back for more.

Paul

July the something?, 2008

So, where was I? Heading back to the Bahamas I believe. We still had a long way to go and, although I was getting paid by the day, wanted to be finished with the trip and back to the more relaxed cruising. Other than the length of the passage the rest of the trip was uneventful and we arrived in George town without too much fuss. As soon as we had anchored Lori and I swam ashore to the "Chat ‘n’ Chill’ beach bar while the owner took our passports to town to check in. We were just getting comfortable and into our 3rd or 4th beer when the owner came back and spirited us away. Customs allows the skipper to check in his family, but not the crew. So off we trundled.

The Bahamian Regatta was being run that week and the place was hopping. The towns commercial dock was converted into a maze of huts selling everything from greasy conch fritters to coconut milk and gin drinks. Not bad either. Needless to say we hung around for a while after the customs had finished telling us off for leaving the boat without permission, although he did have a big smile on his face while he was doing it. Slowly we wandered back to the dinghy dock when we spotted a large mobile crane lifting off the one of the Bahamian racing boats. These boats come from all the different islands and are usually made by eye, no plans, by the local builders. Great pride is taken in theses boats and the races are a good opportunity to prove their craftsmanship. As the crane operator swung the boat off the side of the freighter his boom was too far extended and slowly it lost balance and went toppling onto it’s side sending the boat crashing into the bay. The boom landed on top of the unfortunate boat, breaking it’s mast and completely submerging it. The owners immediately jumped into the water and started salvaging their sails and other gear. The party mood didn’t change and the crowd, if a bit larger than before, seemed to be enjoying the entertainment. Before ten minutes had passed a new mobile crane had arrived. I thought it would try to clear the wreckage of the first crane out of the way but all it did was to lift the boom allowing the sailboat to drift free and then immediately got on with the job of unloading the balance of the boats from the deck. "Race week Mon. More important than an old crane’ I was told by an onlooker. Races where to start the next day, but our flight was at 1.00pm and the wind was too light in the morning so we didn’t see these amazing boats race. We did see them practice and they must be a handful. Those main sails are huge. They carry as many men for ballast as wind conditions dictate, making the heaviest of them swim for shore if the race is close on the last leg to reduce weight. Try that at Caesar’s Freezer!

Lori and I arrived in San Juan Puerto Rico late Monday night and had to navigate our way to a hotel near the airport. A real bed, with a real shower and everything. We left early the next day, after yet another shower. While I had done all the navigating on the water, it was now Loris’ turn. In broken Spanish she asked for directions. ’Take a cab’ was the reply from the front desk of the hotel. Being the seasoned traveler she was, we(?) decided to take the bus. After standing at the bus stop for 30 minutes, with no buses with our number coming by, I started to watch the buses going in the other direction. Sure enough, every few minutes one went by. ‘He did say turn right out of the lobby, didn’t he?’ she asked. ‘ We were on the wrong side of the road and the buses travel in circles changing their numbers half way around. We had to get 60 miles by bus to Fajardo for our ferry back to Culebra. I didn’t fancy our chances. Amazingly, Lori did get us home and after numerous days of recuperation and rubble dums, we started to think of moving on again.

Paul