Leaving Key West.  Again.

One year ago, almost to the day, we left from Key West bound for Panama.  This time we're headed north to Oriental, NC, where we'll pause to haul out and put on some bottom paint before continuing to NH.   Plan is to arrive at our mooring  in Little Harbor before the end of June.

Weather changed our plans in Honduras so we did not explore Cayo Cochinos or Utila as posted last time, but enjoyed French Harbor and the West End of Roatan.  Crews of Laeto Loco and Act III were very impressed with the Bay Islands and spent a lot of time in the water with our snorkel gear.

Lobster Not From Maine

Turtle, Dude

Squid

But I had a plane ticket to fly to North Carolina out of Key West and Elle from Laeto Loco  had to begin a crew training course in Fort Lauderdale, so we had to take the best weather window we could find to make the passage to Key West by March 18.  Remember, this is nearly 6 weeks after leaving Panama, so we were rushing.

Both boats did fine for the first 3 days, but after making the NE turn around Cuba, we ran into strong winds on the nose a day earlier than expected which made crossing the Gulf Stream rather  bumpy for Act III.  We lost the use of our genoa when the furling line parted; Bill had to wrestle that huge sail down and secure it along the deck before the stronger winds hit us .  Laeto Loco had a lot of trouble making headway motor-sailing with only one of their engines working.  Their catamaran was pounded hard and they had to spend a night riding to a sea-anchor, but they drifted faster than expected and the next morning found them only 30 miles off the coast of Cuba, having lost all the hard-won distance of the previous day.   They spent another day just holding their position. until the wind died down and allowed them to make for Key West again.  They came into port 3 days behind us with significant boat and body damage;  Elle had  a cracked rib from falling while helping to haul in the sea anchor and the boat was on the hard here in Key West for 7 weeks of repairs.   Fortunately, Laeto Loco had their SSB radio repaired in Honduras so we were able to stay in contact with them through the passage and when things got rough, we talked hourly.  Bill provided with weather and advice (although he worried something fierce about that responsibility), and we offered moral support and promises of Key Lime Pie through the long nights.   We're sorry Laeto Loco got beaten up, but we were not disappointed to spend more time with the Veldman family since they didn't rush off to Bahamas after Elle's class ended in March--they left Key West only last week.  Paul, Laura, Elle, Claire and Adam have become family to us and we miss them.

Aqua Mama

On Wednesday, March 20, I hopped on a plane to North Carolina.  The whole flying experience felt surreal after so many months of barefoot living in bathing suits on quiet islands with few regulations and no credit cards, never traveling faster than 10 knots.  I was greeted by my very beautiful and very pregnant daughter Polly in Asheville, had a divine evening in the spa pools of The Grove Park Inn, then drove an hour north to their home in a BLINDING snowstorm.  Oh Hell--had to wear socks as well as shoes.  On Thursday we caught up and made plans.  On Friday we cancelled plans and instead kept a time log of contractions--oops, they're now called "birthing waves", which Polly rode beautifully with the hypno-birthing techniques she'd been practicing.  With Miles awesome coaching and support, she delivered sweet Baby Ginger only 2.5 hours after arriving at the hospital on Friday evening, with no drugs except Tylenol.  Brilliant timing, as I got to spend the rest of my 3 week visit with my beautiful, strong, clever new granddaughter.

Miles and Ginger Mae Lorien

We have a new buddy-boat for part of our trip up the East Coast:  John and Trish Billings aboard s/v Mariah, from San Diego.  We two couples have much in common:  Trish and I tie up  at  Key West's few convenient dinghy docks to grocery shop or ride their folding bikes to run errands, fetch parts or explore, while Bill and John work aboard and get into discuss physics ("propeller heads" Trish calls them.  There was the day we had a car and the guys dropped Trish and me at the Publix grocery store, only to call us an hour later to say they'd been waiting for us at the other Publix.  True it's confusing to have two Publix on the same highway, but...really?)

Bill has spent 2 consecutive birthdays (May 16) in Key West.  We have seen many amazing places and spent time with even more amazing people, including our children in this one short year.  Lucky LUCKY us.

San Blas (Kuna Yala) Panama

December, 2012-February, 2013

Two months in San Blas Islands (Kuna Yala) off Panama made us lazy.   The weather is perfect with air temperatures ranging from 80 - 85, day and night; water temp. 82 degrees and clear aqua blue, breezes blowing most of the time keep bugs away and wind generators happy.  Wonderful sailing  between postcard perfect islands, with little to no seas, since the archipelago is behind a protective reef .  Distances are short so you can visit more than one island in a day if you're ambitious.  Which we weren't.  There was one remarkable rainstorm early in our visit, providing a dinghy full of fresh water for laundry day!

Provisioning could be a challenge at tiny stores in the Kuna villages.   We took our chances sailing 20 miles to Nargana, one of the larger islands near coastal Panama where one generally could purchase rice, oil, and yeast;  if the Columbian or Panamanian trading boats had come in recently, there might be boxed milk  a decent variety of vegetables and crackers.   On another island we scored peanut butter and white flour.  I don't understand why buying flour was difficult because Kuna bread (something like hot dog rolls) was everywhere.  Forget buying cheese--only lukewarm American singles.  Long-time cruisers or charters take a road-trip to Panama City (3 hours by taxi on the nasty Carti Road, only open during the day) for big shopping.  We weren't tempted.  We even started drinking tea when our coffee ran out and could only be replenished by small bags of single-packs.

But who needs the Kuna stores?  Geraldo or Jacob came to our boat in the anchorage more or less weekly with their pangas full of fresh veggies, and sometimes  eggs, fresh frozen whole chickens--really whole!, beer, wine, and, on New Years, bottles of champagne.  Fishermen stopped by daily offering their fresh catch of mackerel, tuna ,or red snapper, which they obligingly scaled or fileted on their dugout canoes.   We shun the local lobster, but love the crab, huge beasts with exceptionally sweet meat, although cutting and cracking their tough shells takes heavy-duty tools.  Uh, like our 3 ft. long  bolt cutters.  An enterprising baker came occasionally with fresh bread.   I filled in our need for carbs and fat by making yummy chowder from the crab bodies, English muffins, blender mayo, and a sort of feta cheese from boxed milk.  It was not exactly roughing it.
 
We spent some time at the West Lemmons anchorage continuing our big project of rebedding the portlights--a messy, two-person project.  Each portlight, or pair, takes a couple of days to complete drilling and tapping (bronze dust everywhere), scraping old sealant away, sealing the inside core with fiberglass, remounting  the rings with butyl tape, then trimming the bronze bolts with our Dremel tool.    We bless our little shop vac, and butyl tape is waaay easier to work with than standard tubes of caulk. 

Elefante Internet Bar

West Lemmons offered internet at Elefante Bar if you brought  your computer and plugged into one of their 3 (short) hard wire cables extending out from behind the bar and sat at the small plastic table.  It was pleasant enough to sit with a glass of local rum and (maybe) ice (Bill) or red wine from a box (Heidi)--it wasn't good wine, but it was Clos-- while checking email or sometimes Skype-ing our kids.    More than one person online slowed everything to a crawl, so it wasn't conducive to uploading to our blog. 

A number of our crusing friends from Bocas were in Kuna Yala,  and we re-connected with Laeto Loco, a spectacularly gorgeous family of 5 from Indiana who have taken a year's leave from work and school to cruise on the catamaran they purchased in Bocas.   In January we discovered they and we had nearly identical schedules for heading north from Panama to Florida, both crews need to be in Florida by the third week of March--I am flying to NC from Key West to be close to Polly and Miles for the birth of their first child and one of the Laeto Loco daughters is going to take a crew certification course in Ft. Lauderdale. Their experience cruising changed her mind about going to college right away.   Laeto Loco is inexperienced so welcomed our offer to travel together.  
We left Kuna Yala on Feb. 3, arriving in Providencia 48 hours later, excited to see real grocery stores, motorized vehicles, hair salon, and tall people who spoke English.   We went wild and rented a golf cart to tour the 4.5 mile long island....circumnavigating in an hour at golf cart speed.  Even the military police smiled and waved at our cart of 7 people, probably because Elle and Clare from L.L. are both about 6' tall with long blond hair.

Clare from Laeto Loco

 
After 3 days we continued north to the Bay Islands of Honduras, where we are thrilled with the snorkeling and services available, although it's disturbing to have guards with automatic weapons stationed in and around the grocery store, gas station and banks here on Roatan, the largest of the island group.   We are avoiding the end of the island where the cruise ships stop, and are loving being at anchor in French Harbor, near Little French Cay, picking up free wifi from one of the restaurants on shore.  Snorkeling is fantastic in a protected marine park 200 yards away--the biggest lobsters we've ever seen.

Tomorrow we're heading 25 nm. south to Cayos Cochinos, a national marine park surrounded by the second largest barrier reef in the world, they say.  We'll spend a few days diving and snorkeling there before returning to Utila, just west of Roatan, where we'll clear out of Honduras and await good weather to head for Isla Mujeres MX, on the way to Key West. 

I'm excited and sad as we approach the States after so many months in Panama.   We can scarcely wait to see our kids and grandkids, but wonder if we have lost our toughness to swim in water colder than 80 degrees. 

More Photos Providencia & Honduras

We know you'll all feel sorry for us when we freeze in Little Harbor and Newmarket in June.   We'll happily accept warm hugs.

Colon, Panama

We finally left Bocas del Toro and arrived at Shelter Bay Marina, Colon, at the Caribbean (North) entrance of the Panama Canal.  We drive  across one of the locks on our way to town from the marina, sometimes having to wait for huge ships to get towed into the lock.  Cool.

We are in Colon for two reasons:  Ben needed to get to the US Embassy in Panama City to have pages added to his passport, which was nearly confiscated at the Costa Rica/Panama border when there was no space for the official stamp.  By sailing to Colon, we saved Ben a 12+ hour bus ride; its only an hour to Panama City from here.

We stopped at Rio Chagres on the way, only 6 miles from here, and enjoyed the pristine jungle complete with crocodiles, toucans and howler monkeys swinging through the trees.  We did not linger to do any hiking as Ben was in a bit of a hurry, and he was not lucky fishing, although a croc got interested enough in his jiggling bait to come close to the boat.  We were not brave (or stupid) enough to swim, but the fresh water was a treat for the boat and our showers with the deck wash-down hose.

On our way to Colon from Rio Chagres, we rescued a pair of fishermen in their panga who were rowing fiercely to stay off the rocky lee shore.   The starter cord on their outboard had broken, so we towed them out of the disorganizd swells back into the river mouth, provided tools and cord, and failed to capture their huge smiles when their engine started again.  They insisted on giving us some of their catch despite our protestations that we didn't need fresh fish right away--we had too much food to use before it spoiled--so we sallied forth again with 8 nice snappers and jacks.  (The next day I gave the fish to the marina restaurant chef; he gave us a bottle of wine and everyone was happy.)  That makes two times Ben and Bill have rescued a fishing panga in almost the exact same area.  The last time was in 2007.

Ben left the morning after we arrived at the marina, and is now back in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua with a passport bulging with clean pages. Rachel had left Bocas earlier to visit her family in Colorado, and flew back directly to Nicaragua, where they will spend the season working and surfing. Rachel is teaching yoga, Ben is seeking boat work. After having them with us for 6 months, it was very hard to say good-bye.

However, the fun never ends here. Paul and Piper (the deck babe formerly known as Mary Beth) joined us at Shelter Bay last week, and we planned to head for the San Blas Islands as soon as we provisioned and fueled up, and expected to share another fine Thanksgiving with them anchored off some fabulously beautiful island.  Then the rain started, then the floods began, then the fuel  barge didn't come, then the president of Panama declared a state of emergency in Colon, then fuel arrived but a fancy yacht needed hours to take on thousands of gallons of diesel, etc. etc, so our departure has been delayed a week and Thanksgiving dinner was a (delicious) cruiser potluck.  Today we toted 40 gallons of diesel in jerry jugs from the fuel barge, the weather has mostly cleared, and we're finally prepared to leave in the morning.  Meanwhile, Bill and Paul (The Semi-Colons--rhymes with Cologne) have amused themselves and others by playing  music outside at the bar, while Piper and I play Bananagrams, a great new game for word nerds that Polly and Miles brought down last month.   More about THAT wonderful visit later.

We can't say we're thrilled with Shelter Bay Marina, but it's the only game in town since the Panama Canal Yacht Club was torn down 4-5 years ago. Shame. The marina offers a free daily round-trip bus to shopping in Colon 30 minutes away, but a taxi costs $25 each way, and if you have a lot of bags, you won't fit them on the crowded bus.  We're looking forward to better cruising grounds soon.
Rio Chagres Photos

We've been lucky to have great friends and family aboard nearly constantly since last March, but I find it tough to sit and write at those times.  It's occurred to me that there have been some great moments unreported as we sailed from Key West to Panama with Ben and Rachel, and then spent the past several months in Bocas del Toro.  I will randomly post a few as I get internet access, which has been some frustrating here.   Here's the first:

Act III was on the same mooring in Key West for a couple of months and at least four of us swam around the boat every day, so I was greatly surprised that it took six weeks for me to spot a  15 hp. Johnson outboard sitting on the bottom only a few yards from the boat.  I dove down to make sure the motor was relatively complete and when it didn't look too bad--and against my better judgement--I pointed it out to Ben and Bill.  Silly me thought they would dismiss it as being too far gone, but in fact, the rest of the day was spent hauling it aboard, draining out the sand and salt water, and dismantling.  The two men stood side by side at the push pit, one working diligently on the lower unit, the other on the upper; tools came out of the garage; the compressor was unearthed (20 moves), and as each part was cleaned and examined,  the dang thing indeed appeared salvagable.  After several hours, Ben noted a key part missing, dang.  They reassembled their Johnson(s), and we took it to the "free" place near the dinghy dock, where it was snapped up before they could even set it down.  One less piece of garbage in the ocean, and several beers earned for the salvagers.  Happy ending.

Update Cayman Islands   

I did some emailing to local marine environmental groups and learned  "Studly" our frisky dolphin friend, is well-known in the area as "Stinky."  He is a lone dolphin, which is unusual,  who has interacted with boaters and divers for over 3 years.  Lara, a dolphin trainer at Dolphin Cove, wrote  me that his behavior (maturbating on our anchor chain) is not uncommon for adolescent or mature male dolphins.  Her team watched the videos we posted and told Ben and Rachel, who dinghied to Dolphin Cove on an general explore, that dolphin vocalizations and jaw-snapping are aggressive behavior.  So, we were perhaps lucky, and surely dumb, to swim with him, mistakenly thinking he was encouraging and enjoying our company.  Perhaps he was feeling possessive about Act III's goddess bow and wanted her all to himself.  It was still a thrilling interaction.

Backing up in time:  our first stop after leaving Key West was Dry Tortugas National Park, about 70 miles west of KW.  There are no services there, just a small quiet anchorage surrounded by a spectacularly beautiful bird sanctuary that made us feel like we were in The Birds movie, and an uncompleted fort.  When the US bought Florida from Spain, they thought Dry Tortugas--so  named because there is no fresh water source-- would be a perfect location for a fort to control the lucrative  shipping  (pillaging) between Mexico and Central America and Europe.  They started but never finished a huge fort, after laying over 16 million bricks.  We enjoyed spectacular snorkeling and Ben fished,  of course,

Too bad Ben wasn't wearing his Go-Pro camera when he made a Highlight-reel cast one evening from the inflatable.  He caught a smallish snapper and while  reeling it in, a large barracuda spun up and clamped the side of the the snapper in its jaws.  Now Ben reeled carefully, hoping to salvage both his lure and the two fish.   He got his catch up to the dinghy, just about to lean over and get his lure back, when from under the dinghy shot a hammer-head shark who gulped both the fish in a flash.  Jeesh!

We could only stay one night before weather pushed us on to Isla Mujeres, Mexico, off the coast of Cancun.   We had to motor much of the way around the west coast of Cuba, but at least conditions were calm.  Isla Mujeres is a great mix of Mexico and Caribbean Islands, friendly and charming, after jumping through the typical Mexican hoops to check in.  We were scolded for not having fumigation papers, and they could have forced us to get Mexcan fumigation with muy harsh chemicals, but we were pardoned with much warning.  We stayed at Puerto Isla Mujeres, a posh resort/marina but quite inexpensive, and treated ourselves to some pool and swim up bar, laundry and divine outdoor massages (Rachel and Heidi only; the men claim massages hurt).

We left Mexico after 5 days, but heading due south was out of the question.  We made some good easting, however, and when weather for SW Caribbean was reported "truly horrendous" we stopped here at Cayman Islands to wait things out.  Ben took this time to return to Montana to complete a boat engine install he had started last fall, and our sailing weather wasn't due to get much better for a week, so Bill, Heidi and Rachel toughed it out alone in the clear warm water, off the shore of  Rum Point Club, which puts out a decent wifi signal.  

 Ben returned 5 days ago, and we checked out to leave on Friday, but then heard an updated weather that would have us in 25-30 kt winds on the nose for 2-3 days.  Act III could do it, but in the interest of saving the crew, we waited two more days.  We just checked out again, and we hope our next post is from Bocas del Toro, Panama.  Wish us luck this time...we're getting nervous about hurricanes.

 Cayman Islands, 0600 hours, June 13:

Bill, Heidi and Rachel aboard; Ben had to fly to Montana for a week to finish a boat engine install.  I'll catch up with other news later, but this  astounding event requires immediate posting:

A dolphin has been playing with Act III for over 13 hours now.  We are anchored and when Rachel, working in the hammock on the bow, first saw him, he was slowly moving up and down our anchor chain to the bottom where it maybe stirred up food; he slinked up and down the chain, back and forth to the surface, misting us with his exhales as he reached  the surface.  How do we know it's a "He", you ask?  We know for sure because  after a half-hour of anchor-sliding, he hovered near the surface beside the chain, sidled over, rolled belly-up under the chain, and began to rub his large, extended bright-pink penis across the chain.   Over and over again he repeated this series of moves, pausing after each session to take frequent breaths (and have a smoke?)   At one point, he hooked his penis on the chain and pulled the bow of Act III about 4 feet to starboard.  Don't even think about trying this at home, guys!

This went on for over an hour, then when Studly (our name for him) ) had enough self-satisfaction he began to splash, frolic, and race toward us, making high-pitched noises and dolphin clicks, then turning on his side to stare at our reaction.  We got in the dinghy (no motor so we wouldn't hurt him with the propeller) and floated up to the bow.  Studly was  thrilled and surfaced over and over to us, allowing Rachel several pets on his head.  Careful pets, because he was making those big jaw-snapping clicks that we do not think are aggressive, but induce caution, nonetheless.   Next he began diving under the dinghy and bumping us heavily.   We came back aboard when it got  too dark to see much anymore (and we had some fresh Cayman Rum cake to test), and we heard Studly continue to blow around the bow; I came out to check on him when it got quiet and he breeched with a huge splash.  We figured he'd get bored soon enough. or at least go sleep or eat but....

He squeaked, bumped and slapped Act III at the bow all night, so vigorously that poor Rachel barely got any sleep in the V-berth.  Before Studly's appearance, we had thought to mosey around North Sound, Grand Cayman today to a new anchor spot, but we cannot bring ourselves to leave him.  So we're pinned here until the dolphin lets us go.  Rachel just went out in the dinghy again and Studly's so excited he spun bubbles around her, then leaped out of the water.

...At 0800 we donned masks and snorkels and went swimming with Studly, who mugged, jaw-snapped, clicked and squeaked for the camera.  We got out of the water about 30 minutes later; and our new friend, pleased with himself for calling us into the water, and clearly unimpressed with our aquatic skills, made a few more lazy circles around Act III and departed, after 15 hours.

It's the most amazing thing in nature we've ever experienced.

Check the Videos (and poke around my YouTube channel to watch some great music performed by  Polly Lorien)

Conch Republic (Key West)

For those of you persistent souls who  haven't given up on us: We Love You!

When the nice folks at the KW City Marina Mooring field called today to ask if we were still here, we were startled to realize we've been in town for a month.   Before Bill's long overdue haircut last week, he looked like a real Conch (Key West native) only healthier and with more teeth.   (Note:  I started this post last month.  We've now been here 2 months!)

We had  already cast off from the dock when I pushed "send" on our last post from Oriental, NC.  The Intracoastal is not much to write about--long days of motoring interrupted by interesting people and a couple of coast guard inspections (we passed with flying colors), with many lovely, quiet anchorages in the evenings.  We couldn't dally, however, because Mate-extraordinare Ira and Deck-Babe Evelyn had plane tickets to meet us in Fort Lauderdale on March 8, 21 days away, meaning we had to keep moving.  Our logbook from 2010 showed we had made the same trip in 20 days, so we couldn't afford any technical or weather delays.

We were stalled a night when arriving in Charleston, a tug and barge had gone aground cross-ways at low tide just before the last opening bridge into the bay and Act III's draft didn't allow us to go around.  We returned 5 miles upstream to anchor, and arrived at the Megadock Charleston City Marina the next day in high southerly winds (Bill's docking was masterful.)  Fortunately, the weather turned and we made great time with a long run offshore from Charleston to St. Augustine, Fl.   The exciting part of that trip was having the main sheet part (we KNEW it needed replacing) during my night watch as we approached St. Augustine.  Bill wrestled the boom under control, discovered  out our new lifelines work well as he was thrown against them,  and we continued uneventfully in light winds, reaching St. Augustine at dawn before the wind shifted back to southerly.

The Southerly wind continued and forced us to stay in the ICW until we finally got a break for the final day from Lake Worth to Ft. Lauderdale.  We stretched out our bodies and sails and relaxed into sailing outside along the beaches, staying out of the north-bound Gulf Stream which came as close as 1 mile offshore.  Had we continued down the ICW, we would have faced 20 (!) bridges to hail, wait for time and navigate on that short stretch.  We  settled into our slip at Las Olas Marina with 4 days to spare before Ira and Ev arrived, and put the time  to good use as we availed ourselves of the myriad marine supplies and services that Ft. Lauderdale offers in a rental car.  The new main sheet (New England Ropes Regatta Braid) feels divine in our hands.  My Aunt Jacqui and Uncle Bill picked us up in Calliope and hosted us for a fabulous home-cooked meal, and we lunched with Bill's newly-widowed sister Edie.  Frank was sorely missed.

We sailed from F.L. to Miami (No Name Harbor) with Ira and Evelyn, then wandered  south in Biscayne Bay to a sweet anchorage off Pumpkin Key (W of  Key Largo) whre we relaxed and swam for a couple of days before returning north to South Beach Sunset Harbor Yacht Club (very nice) to drop our crew ashore to get their flight home from Fort Lauderdale.  Taking the City Bus to Haulover State Park Beach (c/o) turned into a bit of adventure with excellent people-watching.  South Beach is known for being funky, and lived up to its reputation.   We were sad to wave goodbye to Ira & Ev...they are outstanding company and competent crew, and it was especially sweet to have friends from "home."

3/18/2012:  Bill and I provisioned and were lucky to have a steady 15-20 kt E wind for the next half-week as we made out way down the Florida Keys, stopping to anchor each evening.  It was a beautiful trip down the  Hawk Channel, a deep-ish channel outside of the Keys.  The Gulf Stream and the reef on the outer boundary of the channel keep the seas down even when the wind has blown for days, so we traveled fast and smooth.  But, damn, it's shallow around here; there were only a few good protected spots for Act III to settle into at night, and fortunately spaced perfectly for our three  8 hour days to Key West.

3/21/2012:  Conch Republic of Key West.   Two days after taking a mooring at the Key West City Marina just east of Fleming Key, we participated in the Wrecker's Cup Race, a one-way dash to Sand Key, 7 miles southeast, reenacting the old Key West tradition of salvaging wrecks (and possibly saving some souls).  It was our first race, albeit casual.  Rule 1: No protests.  Rule 2: see Rule 1, Rule 3: See Rules 1&2.   We were proud to come in 5th in our division on a day with scarce wind.   Great time meeting new people and beating our stiffest competition by minutes.

4/20-27/2012:  Paula and Larry arrive from Montana and we laughed for a week straight.  It was Larry's first time on a sailboat, and he took to it right away.  Bill and Larry had a highly successful tarpon fishing trip with a local guide-extraordinaire, Tony Skinner which, of course, required celebration with oyster shooters at Turtle Kraal's.  We toured the Mel Fisher sunken treasure museum (and Pirate museum - Anne Bonny rocks)  and Ernest Hemingway's house (plentiful 6-toed cats), para-sailed, and ate fabulous food.  Did a little day-sailing.

4/20-25/2012:  Cousin Jim and Kylea come for a break from their busy, productive lives in Santa Cruz.   Much divine wine is drunk and great conversation.   We feel inferior.

5/1- present:  Ben and Rachael are aboard, and will crew with us to Panama-ish location, yet to be determined.  We hoped to be gone from Key West by now, but had a couple of critical equipment failures of SSB Radio and Watermaker and we had to send and receive parts.  B&R had flown from Montana to Antigua to have a 3-month trial as captain and mate on a 60' catamaran, but within 24 hours of arriving they discovered the wife part of the owners was impossible to work for.  Too bad for them, but a great delight to have them with us.  Ben has been suffering the delay remarkably well by going out fishing every night or dawn from our deflatable dinghy...he's caught numerous huge tarpon and a prized permit on his lightweight fly rod and is the envy of all the fisherpeople in their fancy boats with guides on the flats.  The passage to the SW Caribbean will be great experience for Rachael, who has confidently and capably taken over the galley.  I haven't cooked a meal in weeks :) and we're eating like kings.

We will leave in a few hours  (5/23) and stop at Dry Torgugas for a few hours of play, then approximately 10 days to Bocas del Toro, Panama.  We don't have the best weather, but nothing bad, either.  Act III is in capable hands and great shape (uh, except for the brightwork, as usual.)  Our new hard dodger, the one Bill built that delayed our departure from NH, is da bomb!  I did make Sunbrella shades for the windows here, so it hasn't been ALL play.

We miss you all! 

Oriental

We pulled into Sailcraft Services yard just after New Years, expecting to be out on the hard for a couple of weeks.  We're finally leaving this morning, Feb. 15.  Naturally, one thing leads to another when you're working on a boat, and we were sometimes delayed waiting for parts, but we shouldn't have to haul out for some long while now.
Projects accomplished include (but not limited to) new SSB radio and modem so we can send/receive email and FAX while offshore; second wind generator (Your boat's energy requirements always increase to slightly exceed your ability to produce it.) and mounting pole; hard-wired remote VHF with AIS in the cockpit; some fiberglass and gel coat repair; fresh bottom paint; 2 coats of wax on topsides; some, but nowhere near all, finish work on hard dodger; repacked rudder stuffing box; new dripless shaft seal;  new inner and outer cutlass bearings; inspection, improvements and touch-up paint on mast when it was unstepped; new main and spinnaker halyards; and a zillion little things that improve our floating home.
We most enjoyed meeting and sharing time and stories with Jess and Duncan, a young couple from England who bought a neglected Passport sailboat here and plan to voyage to Australia after they get her more seaworthy.  We are very sad to leave them.
Captain is calling...gotta post before we leave the dock.

Portsmouth NH to Oxford MD

Chesapeake Bay, Oxford, MD.

We left Little Harbor on Dec. 10, dressed in 5 layers, and made a couple of day trips, stopping at night in Gloucester, Onset (Cape Cod), and Newport RI.  Because of the cold, we expected we would have to continue day-tripping through Long Island Sound and New York before coming to the part I had nightmares about: the overnight winter passage down the  open NJ coast to Cape May.  As it turned out, we had a good weather window so went directly from Newport to Cape May--32 hours.  Cold but calm enough with easy NW winds--a most excellent sail and I breathed a huge sigh of relief when we dropped the anchor in Cape May at 1900 hrs, affter making our way into the harbor after dark past giant, halogen-lit tugs, tows and construction vessels that hid  the normal aids to navigation.

When we left Cape May the next morning to go up Delaware Bay, it was blowing hard in our faces and the water was very lumpy.  We smiled, however, as a sweet little whale surfaced right beside Act III.  We anchored at the top of the bay before heading through the C&D Canal into the Chesapeake the next morning.  Weather continued cold, but sunny and calm enough to make it easy going.

Three more nights at anchor (in the beautiful Sassafras River, outside not-as-deep-as-charted-oops Rock Harbor, and in Eastern Bay, then we pulled into a marina in Oxford MD for some respite.  Power allowed us to run our electric space heater at will and catch up on internet, and let some wind and rain go by.

When we came down the Intracoastal two years ago, we met Dave and Bicki Howell on Nellie D, a head-turning Lord Nelson Victory Tug.  They live nearby in Cambridge, MD, in a spectacular home on the Little Choptank River they've been building for 11 years.  The best part of this stop was visiting with them and they spoiled us rotten with dinners at their home (fresh oysters from their stash in the river!), lending us their car for 2 days and many other kindnesses.  We can't thank them enough for their graciousness and excellent conversation (not to mention washer and DRYER).

Today, freshly provisioned, we'll make our way across the bay to Solomon's Island,  We  expect to be in the Norfolk/Portsmouth area in 3 days, then the dull grind down the Intracoastal to Sailcraft Services in Oriental, NC, where we'll haul and unstep the mast for some maintenance.

We think it's holiday season, and our hearts are with you all.

Season 3

Dear Friends,

We're provisioning to leave NH again, so will rightly wonder how we got back here.  I had to refer to the blog to remember where we left off...

We left St. Marten after 2 months of work and play, and sailed for Virgin Gorda, British Virgin Islands where, for the first time we felt we were in familiar territory--before that every port was new.

When in St. Marten, our Swedish friend Nils introduced us to Rob and Natalie on s/v Wilhelm because both vessels were ultimately planning to sail to New England, but we hadn't been in touch with them for a couple of months.  We were now delighted to learn they were just a half-day sail away, and our schedules for heading north were in synch.  We met in Christmas Cove, St. John, waited for appropriate weather to avoid the problem we were hearing on the SSB that current cruisers were having to stand off several hundred miles for a week or so before approaching Bemuda because of high wind and seas.  For the first time we used our SSB radio to chat with another boat--not just listen to weather broadcasts--and arranged a daily radio schedule with Wilhelm.  They departed a day ahead of us on May 14, and reported little or no wind.

We left in light wind, but the second day began a lovely sailing breeze.  Then Bill celebrated the night of his birthday with thunderstorms -- the most horrific lightning he'd ever seen -- continuous many fingered bolts surrounding us making it like four hours of daylight, and thunder that never stopped.  Fortunately, I slept through most of it--hey, it wasn't my watch!  Bill tried to sail around the worst of the squalls, visible and clear on radar, but it was impossible to get away from it.  In the morning, Wilhem reported they had turned south for the night hoping to avoid the weather, but still got slammed.  Fortunately, neither boat was struck. The fine weather returned in the morning and the rest of the 6-day passage was lovely and uneventful.  Half-way to Bermuda we passed Wilhelm and took the opportunity to take photos of each other under full sail and spinnakers at daybreak.  We arrived in St. George's Harbor a day ahead of Wilhelm, thanking Act III once again for her swiftness.

Bermuda has the most outstanding navigation and radio system we've ever seen; Bermuda Radio contacted us when we were still 100 nm out.  We previously had notified them online that we were expecting to arrive, and check-in was a breeze.  The Port official even helped us with dock lines. The island is gorgeous, the people most welcoming, and the eponymous onions and shorts were a treat to see.   It's not an island where cruisers happen upon by chance, so the harbor was full of serious boaters with wonderful stories--many waiting for weather to head for the Azores and Europe.  Natalie and Rob had a time obligation so left ahead of us when conditions were less than ideal; we had no constaints so stayed to enjoy the last snorkeling and swimming we expected for awhile.  (The water was a freezing cold 76 degrees!  We are so spoiled!)

We buddy-boated to Newport, RI with a wonderful Dutch couple, Caspar and Gjerte, on s/v Abel, and maintained the same 2/daily radio sched we had with Wilhelm.  It's a great comfort to hear a friendly voice when you're spending so many days alone on the water, with no other vessels in sight.  It's also valuable to share information about what is/was happening with weather and seas.

Our foreign friends have to jump through hoops to get cruising permits, including face-to-face visits to the American embassy. The one thing we were were sure of was that we'd have no problems coming into the States.  We are Americans, after all.  We picked up a mooring in Newport, RI at 2 a.m., fell fast asleep and called the harbormaster and customs first thing in the morning to arrange our check-in.  The customs officer immediately gave us an official warning for not contacting customs by telephone when were were 100 nm. offshore.  But we checked all the websites and there was no mention of that, we protested.  And we have no working telephone.  Yeah, well, you just have to know these things and now that you're in the system as "officially warned" the next time you make a mistake you'll be fined.   We were embarrassed about the great USA when Abel arrived late that next night and Caspar and Gjerte stood in a deserted  parking lot at 3 a.m. holding a flashlight, filling out their entry papers on the hood of the official's car.

Newport has an unrivaled sailing reputation and we were impressed.  Bill also noted that in most of the Caribbean we've seen charter boats who raise their sails just for show while they motor their customers around.  The Newport captains deftly sail their large classic boats right through the anchorage.

We dawdled a bit in Newport to allow time for our granddaughter, Fionna (7), to meet us in Onset (near the Cape Cod Canal), for the last leg home.  She was a trouper for the 4 days aboard, and absolutely ate up Provincetown, literally and figuratively.  You should have seen her put away a plate of mussels in butter and garlic, then steer our dinghy around the mooring field without help.

We arrived at our mooring in Little Harbor at dawn, in the fog, surrounded by the rich scent of the North Atlantic, and happy to be home.  It felt strange to return to living on land after nearly 2 years, but Josh has done a great job taking care of the house and we settled in quickly to lots of company.  Granddaughters Fionna and Sare (1) spent 3 weeks; Lorenzo (3) was here for a couple of weeks, on and off from NJ (yes, their mom's were around, but they already know us:  we needed to connect with the kids who barely remember us.)

In August we flew to Montana for 3 weeks to see our sons:  Ben with his new awesome lady Rachel, and Jake and Allie (4). (Allie confided to her Aunt Polly that "I'm the cutest girl in the world but I can only tell my family."  We agree, but are clearly prejudiced.  Allie is also the reigning Mutton Busting Champion among the 4-7 year olds at the Missoula State Fair and has a belt-buckle as big as her head to show for it.) We floated, fly-fished, sailed, harvested wheat, and played and played and played.  Polly and MIles came from NC to overlap our last week, so we achieved our goal of seeing all our kids and grandkids.  It was divine.
Bill played a little tennis and drums; I sang some warmups with Sounds of the Seacoast.  We sorely miss our friends as well.  It was terrific to play with you this summer as well.

In between playing and entertaining the kids, Bill built a hard dodger for Act III this summer/fall.  It's a big, complicated project and looking fabulous, but took longer than expected.  Then he took a couple of weeks to upgrade the engine.  We're now facing a slow trip south in the colder weather, but we're much safer and more protected.

We'll stop in Oriental, NC to haul out for a short time, unstep the mast and install some electronics, then proceed to Key West, the Western Caribbean, and, ultimately, Panama.  The current plan is to leave the boat in Panama next hurricane season (summer) and come home to play with the kids again.
Come back here later for pictures from the summer!

St. Marten Vortex

We have no idea of time, except that it's not hurricane season, so I guess we're officially cruisers. I have a sense that it's been too long since we've posted to this blog, and I don't recall what or from where we posted. We've missed holidays and birthdays--Allie, our granddaugter, and Ben, our son--and hope they know we think, thank and talk of them on their special days.

We've been in St. Marten for something like 6 weeks. We've passed the official date of our papers, but won't bother to correct them. The French islands are very relaxed about paperwork--a good thing since we arrived without checking out of Antigua; it was too difficult to get to the office in Barbuda.

We ran out of beer in Barbuda, so finally had to sail to St. Marten, where every kind of boat product and service is available at duty-free prices. We had a long list of wants and needs. We hauled Act III for bottom cleaning and repainting. We bought a new gasoline generator, a 2,000 watt Honda, that fully satisfies our power needs--for the moment. Bill made several trips up the mast to repair wiring and replace anchor lights, and to begin troubleshooting the windicator that had stopped working over 6 months ago. It's not essential, but nice to have the wind speed and angle working together electronically with our autopilot so we can automatically steer by wind angle. He brought the unit down to start testing with his various meters, including his beloved multi-meter/oscilloscope that he keeps safely beside him when he sleeps. The Nexus windicator is an unusual make and model, and Bill expected he would have to send the unit to the Canadian manufacturer for rebuilding--the electronics were whacked.

We awoke insanely early on a Saturday morning to sell our old 1,000 watt generator at the monthly boat jumble. It was gone within an hour, but not before I had recognized our very same windicator offered for $12 at the table across from us. Aha! Someone had torn it off th their mast mount, but perhaps the circuit board could be installed in our old mount. After more days of testing and mast climbing and soldering, the new one went into place. It seemed to work, but showed the wind from the opposite side...more mast climbing to turn the circuit board around. Point is, it's easy to spend a lot of time on one island when you're insanely busy. (yeah, right.) Windicator now seems almost perfect: maybe one or two bizarre gremlins still at work in its microprossessing circuits.

We made a long weekend trip to Saba, a Dutch island about 20 miles east of St. Marten, with spectacular scuba diving. Saba is the tip of a mountain coming straight out of the ocean...no harbors or beaches, only some sketchy moorings off the concrete pier on the leeward coast. We left Act III safely in the St. Marten lagoon and took the fast ferry to Saba, because NE swells can make mooring "untenable"--a word we shudder to hear. Sea Saba dive center greeted us and stowed our gear aboard one of their boats, and we taxied to our lodge at the top of the island. The road, entirely built by hand, is a feat of engineering designed by a local who took a correspondence course in civil engineering, after a Dutch engineer came for a look and deemed a road impossible. It winds about 2000' up to the EcoLodge. (One may hike another 1,000' to the summit--the tallest point in the kingdom of the Netherlands.) The lodge consists of 10-12 uniquely painted cabins, separate and hidden from each other, and is largely self-sufficient. They collect rainwater, shower water is solar-heated, and the hottub of rainwater on our small porch took only 20 minutes to heat with an efficient propane heater. The dining room at the reception cabin is lit by candles only, and the owner/chef is a world-class chef. He grows many of the vegetables and all of the herbs they use. He and his friends took five years to build it, primarily because all the cisterns had to be dug with pick and shovel (not possible to get a back-hoe in without destroying the ecology). Each morning we hiked 5 minutes to the main road, took a taxi back down to the waterfront, and were pampered by the divemasters. In thirty minutes we went from 2000 feet above sea level to 100 feet below. The diving was indeed fabulous; we swam with sharks, barracuda and endangered hawksbill turtles. We made 5 dives over the course of 3 days and thoroughly enjoyed our vacation from ACT III. (We know friends, some of you might think that a "vacation" from a lovely boat anchored in paradise is not quite fair. Sorry.)

We finally provisioned and left St. Marten. First we backtracked a bit to Tintamarre, a small island off the NE coast of St. Martin, where we picked up a mooring and found ourselves at a small clothing optional beach where day-charters bring boatloads of naked folks to enjoy swimming and snorkeling for the day. Pretty funny. We planned to stay a day or two before heading to the BVI's, but we so enjoyed the beautiful island and having turtles and dolphins swimming around our boat that we lingered a few more days. Then the wind died completely and we lingered a few more days. After 10 days, winds picked up a bit and we pulled back into Marigot Bay and the lagoon--we had good friends to see again.

We're still here in St Martin, anchored in the lagoon right next to our good friend Nils, waiting for fair weather, so we can try to leave again. Hearing Nils' tale of international romance involving several countries, the internet, an Italian actress, story-book villas, and high adventure makes our stay here fun. See "Swedish Meatballs" post for details. (follows this post.) Pictures

Swedish Meatballs

We first met Nils (s/v Kairos) at the quiet anchorage in Barbuda , and quickly became fast friends.  Nils was one of the first Scandinavian base jumpers and a renowned filmer of base jumping, making IMAX films, which meant he had to jump with a heavy camera on his helmet.  That ultimately led to shoulder injuries and he had to quit jumping about 10 years ago.  He is divorced with 2 grown children, and has been sailing alone for 3 years.  We spent many hours visiting and when it came time to leave Barbuda, we bid our farewells and sailed off to different harbors in St. Marten.

A few days later Nils sailed in an anchored beside us in Marigot Bay,  and a couple of days after that, Curt (s/v Bellis) sailed in from St. Bart's.  He is another solo sailor from Sweden,  who Nils first met in the Canary Islands.  Curt was a dairy farmer; and has 3 grown children.  His first wife and love of his life, died very young, and his second marriage became intolerable.  He divorced, was offered a good sum for his farm and he decided to buy a boat and go sailing.  He also has been cruising for about 3 years.

The four of us became a team, sharing stories, and projects.  We fondly introduce them to our friends as the Swedish Meatballs, but they are far from that description.  They are bright, interesting, funny, sensitive people who have made our time here pass quickly.  Nils is  waiting here for a friend to join him to sail back to the Azores; Curt was waiting for his passport to be mailed here from the American Embassy in Sweden, as he plans to cruise the east coast of the states and needed a visa.  We were appalled at the hoops he had to jump through to get a cruising permit for our fair country, including a face-to-face meeting at the embassy.  Show up at 8:00 a.m., no sooner, no later.  He finally got his meeting 6 hours later.

When we first arrived here last month,  Nils began to contact a woman in Italy that a friend from Australia had insisted he should meet.  He had tried to connect with her, Cristiana, months ago, but she never responded to his overtures and he had dropped it.   But, he said,  seeing Bill and me together encouraged him to try again.  This time, she answered his phone call, intending to tell him she was-not-interested-in-a-relationship-thank-you-very-much.  But something clicked between them and they began a fast and furious long-distance relationship.  Nils spent hours  with his computer in the local bars talking on Skype, reported to us every day on how wonderful she seemed to be.  She was an actress in Germany before building her ecologically-efficient villa in Italy, so we were not surprised when her picture arrived:  she's drop dead gorgeous!   Next thing we knew, Nils was thinking of flying to Italy, and then he had a ticket.  He would leave his boat in St. Martin to fly to Italy for two weeks--he had to know if they were suited.   Bill and I felt like parents (with a fifty year old hopelessly romantic son) and  loved watching  the birth of this romance.  We hugged sad good-byes (again), and Curt dinghied Nils to the airport in early April.  Bellis and Act III would surely be gone to the British Virgin Islands by the time Nils returned.

We waited nearly a week for good weather to leave, then had no problem spending longer than expected at Tintamarre.  We can't swim off the boat in the lagoon where we anchor comfortably in St. Marten, so we spent many hours in the water at Tintamarre.  By then, we realized it would be only a few more days before Nils returned from Italy and if we went back to the lagoon, we could hear how the trip went.  Were they well-suited after all?

Nils was surprised to see us dinghy up to Kairos, and the huge grin on his face told us all we needed to know.  The trip went better than he even imagined, her villa has a nearby marina, she'll meet him in the Azores in 7 weeks, and then .... ahhh the stuff of fairytales.

Curt was also still here when we returned, but left within hours to head through the Bahamas on his way to the States.  I have a hunch we'll see him again in the northeast.   We'll provision again this week and expect to really arrive in the BVI's' soon.  We only have to be in position to head for Bermuda sometime in late May.

Still Northing the Leeward Islands

We feel lost in time as we wander from island to island northward. We stay in one place until something prods us to leave, sometimes weather, sometimes officialdom which defines our cruising time. We thought we had a year to stay in Martinique, but it was a trick of the different method of writing dates (month first) and we suddenly had to scurry to check out.

We provisioned well in Fort de France, Martinique (wasabi!), I got a chic, short haircut and, with some difficulty, kept myself out of the millinery boutique crowded with feathers, fancy ribbons and leopard trims (where would I put the hats I fashioned?)

Next stop was Portsmouth Harbor, Dominica, where the local boat boys are organized and professional. We hired a taxi for a day to tour the island, especially impressed with the Caribe village with descendents of the eponymous tribe of Indians who originally settled these islands, killing off indigenous peaceful Arawak Indians as well as proving fierce opposition to the European colonizers. The present day Caribes call themselves Kalinago, partly to avoid their reputation for being canibals. Tthe local manner of baking cassava bread was impressive , using a foot-operated grater to prepare the taro root that has fed tropical natives for millenia. The short, oriental-looking Kalinago baker mixed the grated cassava with coconut and sugar cane, then baked round flat patties on a section of old iron cannon he heated over an open wood fire. it was delicious.

Dominica is unspoiled and spectacularly beautiful with 7 volcanoes and 365 rivers. We were advised to arrive early for the weekly market on Saturday morning. Partying begins on Friday night, the farmers arrive from the countryside about 3:00 a.m. to start setting out their fresh produce on the closed-off streets, and the revelers routinely buy up the best greens before they head home for bed.

It was an easy day-sail north to The Saints, a group of small islands off the south coast and part of Guadeloupe, and we were back into the routine of French baguettes, croissants and a local specialty cake called tourmants d'amour--a 4" cake/tart with guava or passion fruit filling, delivered to our boat at 0700 hrs. daily. We rented motor scooters to tour the island, which we easily could have circled twice even stopping to swim at every beach. It was my first time driving a scooter and I felt like a tough Harley biker babe, until the iguana I stopped to admire by the side of the road reared up and hissed at my tire, only inches from my ankle making me squeek and careen away.

A week passed and we headed to Antigua (An-tee-Gah), breaking up the trip to sleep in Deshaies (Day-hay), on the NW coast of Guadeloupe. As we came into to the anchorage we admired a superyacht clipper-bow ketch about 100 yds off our port bow. It wasn't until we had covered our sails and jumped into the water that Bill noticed the name Islandia on her boom-- my (favorite) (only) Uncle Harvey's boat. She didn't answer our radio hail and we didn't want to bother inflating our dinghy--which Bill is adamant about not towing, but let's not get started on that topic-- so I donned bathing suit, snorkle and fins to swim over. I bobbed and yelled (you can't just knock on the hull of a 130' yacht and expect anyone to hear) until my uncle came out into the cockpit. He's deaf (85 yrs.) and it took several minutes to figure out who this crazy lady in the water was. It was a great surprise for us all and we enjoyed quality time together in a way we've rarely had.

The superyachts in Falmouth Harbor, Antigua left our jaws hanging. You can google Maltese Falcon and Elena to get some idea of our neighbors.

We enjoyed two very touristy things on Antigua: a "Rainforest Canopy Zipline Tour" and snorkeling with stingrays. Although Antigua has no rainforest and it wasn't really canopy, it was lovely woods and we had a grand time riding 9 ziplines back and forth across creeks and rocky stream beds. The tour finished with a ropes challenge course; Bill had no problem and I was pleased my body still has some grace and balance. The toughest part of the tour was having to wear real shoes (sneakers, but still...).

We moved north to Barbuda and are now ending a 2-week stay at Spanish Point on the isolated southern coast, surrounded by reefs, dolphins and wild donkeys. Fast, free Internet is courtesy of the all-inclusive Cocoa Point resort about 4 miles away, where you can relax on the pink sand beach in front of our boat for a mere $1,000 per night per person. We figure we've saved $24,000 during this anchorage, enjoying all the same benefits of snorkeling and swimming, although I had to do the cooking.

We're out of beer so we'll leave tonight for the French side of St. Martin. We have no plan for how long we'll stay--we want to scuba dive at nearby Saba, and pick up some boat parts. We want to get to the British Virgin Islands soon to haul-out for painting Act III's bottom. A few days at anchor and we have a veritable forest growing underneath, home to god-knows-what critters. Even though Bill scraped 80 percent of it off, Act III still provides enough food and shelter for lots of little creatures. We hear them chomping at night.

We think about everyone a lot, and sometimes we wish you were here; but this time of the year, we never wish we were there.

Day To Day

We've written about our more memorable explorations and experiences, but not so much about our routine days at port.  Like everyone else, we need to find groceries, do laundry, run errands, exercise, maintain our "home," find entertainment and relax, but while cruising these mundane chores can be a challenge and delight. 

We don't rise with the sun like many cruisers.  We enjoy sleeping in and relish the frequent early morning showers when rain softly pitters against the plexiglass hatch above our heads, the boat gently rocks and and we snuggle contentedly in our king-size master berth.  We don't have a king-size bed at home, nor do we have 2 bathrooms (heads), so Act III is quite luxurious by comparision. (and remember: 2 heads are better than...  )  At home we started the day with one or more cups of fancy cappucino from our espresso machine, but now we're satisfied with a single cup of French press coffee, and we highly recommend the Friehling stainless-steel French press, which Miles told us about.  It's one of the few things that doesn't show a single bit of rust after a year of daily use.  Sometimes I make home-made pancakes, but more often we pick at fruit or breads and read for a bit while mustering energy to start the day's projects, which often begin with a swim.

In some islands, St. Vincent most frequently, you might not have to leave the boat to do your shopping.   "Boat boys" come to you throughout the day in brightly colored skiffs with outboard engines, proudly named "Alexis the Great", "Dragon Mon" or "God is Truth and Wonder," selling vegetables, fruits, fresh fish or lobster (spiny), t-shirts, breads, or they will deliver anything else you may need, like cases of beer or water.  For the most part they are friendly and cooperative, and their prices reflect the personal service, but some "boys" become aggressive and insulting if you don't need/want their services, which bums you out and puts  you off the anchorage.  This pushiness is also found ashore in the open-air markets, resulting in the officially printed sign in the Bequia marketplace that tells shoppers they have some rights, including "not to be pulled in different directions and having food shoved in their mouths for tasting."  St. Vincent officials are aware that hassling of cruisers can keep money away from the island, so has begun educating and training the locals, who are now officially "Beach Front Sevice Providers." 

Martinique, a much wealthier island, does not not have that sort of "service" but when we hear a conch shell being blown, we know there's fresh fish in town.  To go shopping we first must bail the u sual accumulation of  water out of our transportation, pack our own shopping bags, and make sure we have the right currency for the island:  euros or EC (East Caribbean Dollars = $.37).  We expect to get a little wet on our way to shore, thus we roam around town with damp, salty dinghy-butts--only one of many ways the locals peg us a cruisers (skin color and back packs are others).  We lock our dinghy to the docks, which vary from sturdy concrete with ladders to ramshackle floats of old tires with splintering boards balanced across.

Nothing we've seen compares to the grocery stores we have in the States.  Bahamas and Dominican Republic were the least well-stocked, while Grenada had a bright, modern IGA that actually stocked fresh milk once a week--we mostly drink UHT box milk.  The milk was just down the aisle from the attractively displayed pre-packaged chicken feet--the only product in the poultry section.  We've noticed that most islanders have no aversion to bones in their meat, so the wonderful curried roti (a kind of spicy meat and vegetable wrap) will likely have randomly whacked chicken legs with pieces of bone in--not my personal favorite.  New foods we've enjoyed include dasheen (taro), callaloo (green and leafy, like spinach), various fish we cannot identify or understand the local names of, plantains, and goat.  I did not find the advertised wild, fresh local iguana in Foodland, and I'm not sure how I would have cooked it.   Most of the stores sell clear 1 qt. plastic buckets of what I believe is an animal  product: large chunks of smooth, shiny, red-pink somethings in a purplish bloody liquid.  I don't even want to ask.  (Fact is, we've probably already eaten whatever it is in a local stew, but still...)  The small local store here in Trois Islet, Martinique--like our ubiquitous convenience stores--carries your basic necessities:  fresh baguettes, rum, wine, beer, brie and camembert cheese, soap, candy, pate de foie gras, and clear vacuum-sealed packages of something slippery pink labeled "groins de porc".  Looks like just what it says, and I'm not tempted.  We eat lots of vegetables and I can often find good local chicken. 

It took us about 5 months to find a battery for Bill's watch (yeah, he still wears one, as he needs to time some of his on-board chores, like water-making.)  The Spectra water maker Bill installed in North Carolina last year is a great luxury.  We never have to ration and nothing beats diving off the boat several times a day for a swim in warm Caribbean water, followed by a fresh water rinse on deck, then air-drying in the hammock rigged on the foredeck--no suits or towels involved.  One of our early projects back in the states was to find the correct (non-universal, French) fittings to extend the shower hose in our forward head so it reaches out the portlight to the deck.  At the time it was something like 30 degrees during the day, and we could scarcely imagine how fine it might be someday.  Ahhhhh.  It was worth the many trips to plumbing departments down the east coast.

Sometimes we find a laundry that will fold and dry for a reasonable fee, but normally I do that aboard using a bucket and the sink.  Towels and king-size sheets are the only hassle.  Dishes are washed mostly with the salt-water foot pump, with a fresh water rinse. 

Entertainment is easy, because we don't need much.  One can spend hours just watching the water or other boats in the area, and we read prodigiously, finding many unusual books at free cruiser book-swaps located at cruiser hang-outs, and our Kindle allows us to get anything as long as we have computer or telephone signals available.  When we have internet access we download favorite podcasts like Car Talk or Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me (our major news source), Fresh Air or RadioLab and listen during supper at sundown.  Then we go to bed and...read.

I need to end now so I can post on this trip to town.  We don't have internet access from the boat here, and the local shop with "wee-fee" has uncertain hours. Qnd I need extrq ti,e to figure out the French keyboqrd:

We love and miss you all.

From Ste. Anne, Martinique

Act III is happily anchored at Ste. Anne, Martinique. on the south coast. Martinique has by far the highest standard of living of its neighbors, with half the annual income provided by France. We drove to volcano Pelee, in the north, and encountered real traffic on real highways and passed real super-stores, with not a single goat on any road. Cheese, wine, bread--all the food, actually--and clothing are exquisite, and French is slowly returning to the top of the language heap in my brain.

Paul Shumway and Mary Beth Lambert, crew-par-excellence and our mules for electronics and drugs (Rx), flew to meet us in St. Lucia in late November. We cruised south to St. Vincent and the Grenadines, particularly enjoying Tobago Cays, where we swam with turtles. Thanksgiving dinner was dorado sushi that Paul caught--manfully landing it aboard while Bill tried to slow the boat, which spiked up to 10.5 kts. while flying our spinnaker--and frothy fruit daiquiris decorated with umbrella straws that Mary Beth brought with them. Special homemade brownies sent us off on a holiday parade around the deck singing "Iko, Iko". Paul brought his travel guitar and serenaded us many evenings.

St. Vincent is a poor island whose largest agricultural export is ganja--you can see the plants alternating with bananas trees as you sail along the coast. Many cruisers and our guide book recommend caution when stopping in St. Vincent harbors, explaining how to avoid hassles from the local boat boys who approach your boat several miles out and want to sell you stuff, or pay them to use shabby moorings, or pay them to protect your boat from other locals. Chateaubelaire was singled out a place to lock everything up and think twice about leaving your boat untended. Since Hurricane Tomas recently wreaked havoc on the crops of northern St. Vincent--making locals even more desperate, we were wary when we put our anchor down in the stunningly beautiful anchorage, even more alert for trouble since we were the only boat present. Immediately a small kayak left shore and headed toward us. Uh oh.

Well, we can personally report on the current situation in Chateaubelaire, St. Vincent: George, 15 and small for his age, greets your vessel, floats around and chats you up for 1/2 hour, does not ask for anything but accepts a coke, leaves you alone then returns the next morning to bring you bananas and asks you to sign his journal, in which he's collecting the names of all the boats that visit. That's it. Pretty scary.

We unwittingly created an official incident in St. Lucia when we dropped Paul and Mary Beth off in a town near the airport at the south of the island, to save them a long expensive taxi ride from our intended destination of Rodney Bay in the north. P & MB had no problem checking in and out with Customs and Immigration (C&I) at the airport, but when Bill and I came to C&I at Rodney Bay, with our papers from St. Vincent showing we had left with 4 persons, they immediately seized Act III and our passports, because a vessel is not supposed to discharge any crew until all have cleared in together. The Customs boat very publicly escorted us in from the anchorage to the marina, where we were famous while we stayed for 5 days (at their expense), waiting to hear our fate...the offense is punishable up to $5,000. Each day we were told by the local Rodney Bay Customs man that we would have information the next day (we're quite sure the local office was scheming to secretly get us to pay money to them directly). Eventually we were instructed to taxi to the main office 10 miles away and meet with a superior official, who was extremely fair and reasonable. It was clear to him that we had intended no harm so he gave us a short lecture on the regulations, and sent us on our way with no fine. When we returned to our local office to get our passports back, the female Immigration officer, who knew the entire story and who had seen us come to the office every day, slammed our passports onto her desk and growled that she was refusing us entry. Huh? She cut off our explanations with "You must leave immediately!" and yelled again at Bill when he finally said, OK, if you'll give us our passports we'll go. "YOU don't tell ME what to do. I'LL tell YOU when I'm finished. YOU sit down over there." The other officers in the room only looked at the wall or the backs of their hands as she ranted away. She (Agent 601) was the most rude public official we have ever come across--ever. So we left (not immediately...it was late in the day and somewhat unsafe to arrive at a new harbor after dark. Agent 601 didn't care when we expressed this concern, but also didn't look for us in the anchorage that night, maybe because Immigration's boat was owned by the marina and the marina manager was firmly, angrily on our side.)

When we spent some time at the anchorage in Rodney Bay, St Lucia, awaiting Paul and Mary Beth, we found it a charming place. Two weeks later, Agent 601 made it much less charming: she needs to be transferred to a non-public position. One thing we ate in St. Lucia that we've not seen anywhere else is stuffed boxfish, from a woman selling roasted goodies from her grill on the street. The boxfish is split on the belly side, filled with a fish and bread stuffing, and a few morsels of tender white boxfish near the spine were a delicious surprise. Another great experience we had at Pigeon Island State Park, Rodney Bay--before we became undesirable aliens--was finding an outstanding jazz group, InXS, who play a regular Sunday night gig at Jambe de Bois (Wooden Leg) Restaurant. When the band leader, Ricardo, disscovered Bill was a drummer, Ricardo insisted that Bill "bless his drums" by sitting in. Ricardo called for the tune, Stella by Starlight, which Ricardo renamed "Heidi By Starlight," and when Bill did not embarass himself or Ricardo on that number, a second tune was insisted on. Ricardo claimed Bill as his soul brother, and we were disappointed that Agent 601 required us to leave on a Saturday before we could share another night with InXS.

The holidays here in Martinique (where we easily handled the self-check-in by computer and no fees) are celebrated with lots of fireworks and music; the sounds travel well across the water and keep us entertained aboard (sometimes with great groaning on karaoke night)s. And when our neighbors dinghy home in the evening, our whole house rocks and rolls. Hope that doesn't happen in your neighborhood.

We wish all our famiy and friends a new year full of health, laughter and love.
Pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/heidiberger2/StLuciaToTobagoCaysWithPabloAndMacbeth#

Grenada Hurricane Season

My good friend Wendy Berkeley recently asked how cruising has changed me and what I've learned about myself. I'm stronger,healthier and more patient than ever, but one thing is clear: I'm not a writer. If I were, well, I'd be writing. I wouldn't wait 2 months between blog posts when I had a perfect internet connection. Perhaps I'm simply lazy.

We successfully rode out hurricane season here in Grenada for 3 months. Only Tomas posed any threat at all 2 weeks ago, and the island prepared to be hit with 60+ mph winds. All day Friday, boats in the anchorages moved to more secure spots, put out extra anchors, laid in extra cases of beer and made plans to monitor the radio network all night. Boats at marinas, like us, put out so many extra lines the docks look like a spaghetti dinner, secured our dinghies, unrigged extraneous canvas and tarps and stowed all loose items. Locals emptied the grocery stores of everything fresh and canned. Then we waited, watched the weather sites on the internet and talked of nothing but updates of Tomas' predicted course, which early models showed going right over Grenada. The weather was slightly overcast, calm and, surprisingly, not at all buggy--one of the most pleasant spells of weather we've had here.

Then Tomas veered north and we got nothing but a few short rain squalls on Sunday. Unfortunately St. Lucia and St Vincents did not fare so well. We have plans to pick up Paul and Mary Beth in St. Lucia on November 20 and hope the island is recovered enough to allow movement and provisioning.

We left Clarks Court Bay Marina last week after nearly 3 months. Staying in one place for so long was productive as we used lots of power tools to completely strip and refinish all the brightwork (which already needs more coats of varnish in this brutal sun) and use our new Sailrite sewing machine. We got to know other cruisers and locals--better than we know our neighbors in Newmarket--as we all live in the open, sharing daily afternoon swims and a weekly shopping bus to the "mall" which has an excellent IGA supermarket. It's easy to hop on a local island bus for trips to the capital city of St. George's, and it's easy to spend hours reading books from the book swap or downloaded onto our Kindle, trying to stay cool.

We're now in Calvigny Harbour, 2 bays to the northeast, making our own water and power, swimming naked off the boat. We're anchored near John and Patti on Anhinga, who we met waaay back in Puerto Rico and who have also been here for the summer. We all enjoyed a divine meal of fresh Caribbean cuisine -- goat curry, barracuda, crabback (stuffed crab appetizer), at BB's Crabback Restaurant in St. George's on Saturday night, whose proprietor is a world class London-trained chef. It was a sort of farewell to Grenada dinner as we prepare to start leisurely cruising north in the next day or so. We'll check out of Grenada at the island of Carriacou to the northwest, then explore Bequia before getting to St. Lucia.

Highlights of our season on this lush, modern island full of spices, fruits, flowers, goats and warm people include, in no particular order:

---Lucky the African Gray parrot, who provided us with hours of amusement with her huge vocabulary. We taught her some whistles, but mostly she has us parroting her funny phrases.

---Playing a form of cricket. Who'd a thought? Average fluid consumption per match was 15 cases of beer and less than one case of bottled water. Bill took to the sport as easily as he takes to any game with a stick and a ball. I just stood there covered in Deet to deter bites from mosquitoes carrying dengue fever, and tried to stay in the crease. Final cricket match segued into a Halloween party.

--Live music and dancing at various venues. There's a steel pan school in St. George's--nice for a limited time but it soon becomes repetitive. One night I hula-hoop/danced with "Hula Mary", my new heroine, and can't wait to order my own hoop which comes apart for easy boat storage. Check out Hula Mary.

--Fresh sushi tuna for less than $2 per pound at the fish market downtown. Breadfruit ice cream. Baked Bakes. Fried Bakes! Never tried the fresh local wild iguana.

--The heavy-duty Sailrite machine paid for itself when I repaired our genoa and mainsail in the marina bar. I also fabricated effective and simple boat sunshade from a roll of "patio shield" material I bought at Walmart a long time ago for about $50. Ben was right to impress upon us the importance of shade capability on a boat.

--A leisurely Sunday afternoon dinghy raft, 14 boats strung together, as we floated across Clarks Court Bay to Roger's Beach Bar BBQ and live music (hot musicians from Switzerland-Pink and Lea Lu!) We swam off our dinghy island and passed appetizers and drinks, including a fine batch of herbal brownies.

We might have already reported this, but we are missing family and friends more than we expected and while this hot season in Grenada has been interesting, we want to spend the summer months in our home waters and visiting our children and grandchildren. Staying in touch with Skype and email is amazing, but it's not the same as being together. We'll chart a course home in May or so, although don't know from where.

Dear Readers: we love and miss you more than you know. And Bill and I still love being together as much as when we started. It's quite remarkable, really, and wonderful!

GMT (Grenada Maybe Time)

Heidi writes:
We're feeling some guilty that we haven't posted in so long.  No excuse, really, except cruising makes you lazy.
We've been in Grenada since the first of July, after swiftly sailing from the British Virgin Islands to St. Martin, St. Barts, Antigua, Guadeloupe, Dominica, Martinique, and finally the south coast of Grenada.  When Bill was due to travel home to NH for Shellen and Adam's wedding party, we moved Act III into a marina in Clarks Court Bay, where I would have help and company if any harsh weather came through.
The harsh weather came in the form of two family deaths in one day, within an hour of each other, while Bill was still in NH.  Heidi's father succumbed to prostate cancer, and Bill's son, Matt, got a sudden infection his body could not resist.  I flew home to join the family as we celebrated Matt's life and mourned his death.  Matt chose a time to die when his family was already gathered, so we were able to support each other.
We intend to stay in the Grenada vicinity (below 12 degrees latitude)  through hurricane season...until October or early November.  We have plenty of boat work while we're stationary:  varnishing, canvas and sail repair especially.  I'm excited to have a new Sailrite heavy duty sewing machine.
Some highlights of the recent months:
We awoke at 3 am. to leave St. Barts for Antigua.  I got up early to make coffee, and stumbled into our cabin to wake Bill.  His first words:  Do you smell fish?  Well, I replied, we're on the ocean and surrounded by fish. Bill said that didn't make sense.  I allowed that it smelled a little fishy, but not in the cockpit.  Bill crawled out of our bed and my headlamp spotted something long and white on the sheet.  A squid had leaped high enough to come through the hatch over our head.  Bill remembered  he felt "rain drops" and automatically closed the hatch in the night, then slept on a warm wet spot.  Yuck.  At least it didn't ink our sheets.
In St. Martin and Martinique we gorged ourselves on French cheese and pastries.  We don't find good bread on most islands.  I should bake our own, but the oven heats unevenly and I'm loathe to use so much propane to bake.
We spent several days in a sweet anchorage in Antigua, no other boats and fast, free internet.  We deserved a rest after a rough sail from St. Barts, going through several heavy squalls and rough seas.  Act III behaved perfectly, but I get seasick when conditions are rough, so I'm not much help to Bill.  He is amazing when the going gets tough, scrambling forward to untangle sheets or re-secure an anchor that bounced loose.  We diligently wear out lifevests and clip into jackklines  at night or when the weather is sketchy.
This marina is friendly and convenient. We have excellent internet connection, making it easy to call on Skype, and I take a shopping bus once a week to the local IGA (with shopper discount cards, even), hardware or marine supply store. Cruisers are social people and there's weekly movie night, dominoes, language lessons, beach bar, burger night, and this week, a Drag Queen contest for the fellas.  (shhh: Bill doesn't yet know I'm planning to wrap him in my sarong.)  Unfortunately, the biggest celebration on the island, Carnival, took place during the time we were in the states.  
Thank you, dear readers, for you patience.  It's always great to hear from you, even if it's to scold us.  We'll try for more frequent, shorter posts.
Bill writes:
Thank goodness for Heidi's good memory.  As I read the above account, I know that it is accurate, but if I had had to remember each passage, it would have been a jumbled tale.
The family deaths were hard, but the feelings of sadness and loss were balanced by amazing warmth and love.  Family and friends cried, laughed, hugged, swore, planned, ate, drank, and enjoyed each other and the world.  It was especially wonderful to see how our granddaughter Fionna  and grandson Lorenzo had matured so beautifully.  Fionna just ran her first one-mile race, and finished ahead of many of the adults: not bad for a six-year-old.  Lorenzo, two-and-a-half, is about to start pre-school. His mom and dad have been talking about how he seems to be ready for all kinds of "big boy" activities.  Lorenzo agreed enthusiastically, announcing that he thinks he is ready to drive.  Our newest granddaughter Sare, amazed us all with her sweet, alert personality.  Is there anything more comforting than holding a seven-week-old baby?  http://picasaweb.google.com/bilral/FamilyAndFriendsTheBest#
Heidi did an amazing job preparing the boat to be unattended: pickled the watermaker, closed all through-hulls, emptied the fridge, cleaned, removed the sunshade, prepared extra lines in case of storm, etc.   How did I get such a great woman?  Guess I hit the sailors' jackpot.  When we returned, ACT III didn't have a hair out of place.  Even more impressive, no foul odors.  She feels like home.
These past weeks have made us realize how much we miss our family and friends.  We're seriously considering sailing back to our home-port next summer before hurricane season.  Meanwhile we are happy and healthy.  Heidi will have to catch me if she expects to get me wrapped in her sarong.  I'm looking forward to the cricket match this Saturday.  Last time I was high scorer, ensuring a free beer for me and a victory for our team, "The Rest of the World"  against "The Brits".  As our son Ben says, "The Brits have been trying that "Brits against the rest of the world" thing for a long time; haven't they learned it doesn't work?"  Of course in our cricket game, we used a tennis ball, and the Brits were friendly, funny, helpful coaches to the team they opposed. http://picasaweb.google.com/heidiberger2/GrenadaCricketMatchBritsVsTheRestOfTheWorld#
Fair winds everyone.
http://picasaweb.google.com/heidiberger2