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!
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
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!
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!
Saturday, April 30, 2011
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
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
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.
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.
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