Still February 2009

SPANISH CARIBBEAN

Culebra, Spanish Virgin Islands

It was a fairly short hop to the Spanish Virgin Island of Culebra.  We anchored in Ensenada Hondo, right by the tiny town of Dewey and tried to figure out how to check in.  Technically, this is part of Puerto Rico, another US territory, and as US citizens traveling from one US territory to another we were told by a VI cruiser that checking in was not necessary.  Yeah, we’d heard that in Mexico too, and it turned out to be incorrect, so we decided to be safe and not sorry.  A fellow yachtie directed us to the town dock and told us to get the number off the sign posted on the pier.  A few phone calls later (Ade’s cell phone worked here) we were given a number and told that we were officially checked into Puerto Rico, which is required if you are going to stay there.  Once that was settled, we sought out the few places that were listed in the cruising guide, and took a nice long walk.  We people-watched at the harbor side Dinghy Dock and adjusted our ears to rapid Spanish again.  We even found little Mamacita’s colorful Bar & Grill on the canal that cuts from Ensenada bay to the ocean.  There is a ferry dock on the ocean here that brings Puerto Rican’s over for holidays.  Despite the ferry, Culebra is much like the old Virgin Islands, a nice quiet island with perfect weather, a little local color, and a great place to just hang out and read a good book.

Puerto Rico

The crossing to Fajardo on PR’s east coast was lumpy but uneventful. Puerto Del Rey marina is huge, over 1000 slips, and it’s near nothing, so for transient’s, not the best choice.  We were told it was quite safe, but laughed when after all the security gates, locks, etc., we saw that our dock was the one where the ferry dropped passengers off, so hundreds of people walked by, unescorted on a Sunday…really glad this is NOT where we decided to leave WS while we went home for three weeks.

Wanting to see something at this end of the island, we arranged for a taxi to take us to a popular beach area where we were told there was a boardwalk.  No boardwalk, just a family beach with lots of beer drinking locals out for a fun Sunday…not in the mood for that, we asked what else we might see.  “El Conquistador Casino and Resort” we were told…and as taxi fare was already at $40, we decided we’d better get out.  The resort is actually lovely, beautiful buildings and grounds cascading down a hill to a small marina.   We spent a few hours just strolling around, enjoying a late lunch and people watching.  We’d missed the Latin people; they are so…so…alive, so passionate about everything.  We had the doorman get us a cab, and guess what…another $40 to go the 8 miles back to our marina.  Glad we saw what we did, these cruisers probably won’t be going back to Fajardo.

We ran the length of the northern side of the island with fairly stiff winds at our back.  When we saw the impressive walls of El Morro it was time to navigate the tricky, in this weather, harbor entrance that would take us into San Juan.  We surfed our way in and found Club Nautico, a private club and marina deep into the harbor past all the cruise ship docks.  The yacht club is very safe, with good docks and a beautiful clubhouse and office complex, but for people without a car - a challenge to deal with.  A major highway runs in front of it, on a blind corner, and beyond it, two lane highway on and off ramps, one in each direction, and a raised, but not too high, highway bridge…what we in California call a spaghetti bowl.  At least eight lanes converge here.   After the first day, I learned that if I walked a block or so, I came to a spot where I had pretty good visibility and could run across two lanes to a V like median; pause, cross two more lanes with a small median; pause, and then cross two more double lane sets, and there, finally was a nice big sidewalk bordering the ocean and leading to hotels.  Like a bunny I would dash across two lanes. Stop. Dash. Stop. Run like hell… all pretty exciting, made all the more so by the fact that I actually scream as I do this…not blood curdling wail, but an audible AHHHHHHHHH.    By the time I get to El Malecon to take my walk, I am really warmed up.

We finally rented a car, as Ade didn’t like my method for getting around, and went out for a night on town in Old San Juan- and just fell in love with it.  It reminds me of Cartagena.  The fact that the cruise ships dock right down town adds to the crowds and T-shirt shops, but also to the color and excitement of the waterfront.  Artists set up shop in the square and displayed some really lovely things, like the sea glass earrings and necklaces I bought.  Following the advice of a fellow we met in Culebra, we found that on the streets several blocks north of the piers had great restaurants that the locals frequent.  Baru was one he’d suggested and he was right.  It’s a Tapas restaurant (poor Ade was so disappointed, he thought I was saying Topless) and we shared several delicious dishes, and walked the cobblestone narrow poking our heads into interesting looking galleries and restaurants.    Another night we made our way to the resort area, and the old El San Juan hotel, where Ade and his buddy Jim stayed after their college graduation.  It’s still elegant and has great restaurants, we chose the Palm.  Not Latin, but very nice.

We found someone at the yacht club to watch and wash the boat each week; emptied the fridge, and buttoned Wandering Star up for our first trip home in seven months…the longest time ever.  We missed our families and friends.

HOME for three weeks

We were back aboard in no time, and the others had all caught up.  I finally finished Les and Rose’s Superhero capes that I’d wanted to make for them after they towed us off the coast of Columbia in October.  With no sewing machine on board, I just couldn’t execute my vision.  They got a big chuckle out of the Dobbe Wan and Princess Lena capes…now I dare them to wear them!

We all wanted to see Old San Juan again, so back downtown again - navigating our way through the particularly heavy and drunken cruise ship passengers and back up to Baru for dinner.  Dottie and Ken went off on an island adventure on their motorcycle for a few days, while we stayed at the club with Rose as Les had to fly home for a quick business trip.  We did the mad dashes across yet another set of major highways to the local Pueblo market to re-provision for the next leg of our journey.  Rose is much faster off the mark than I, she’s like a gazelle, and I think my screaming scared her.   I wonder if they will miss all of this nonsense when they go back to the real world of starting a new business.  We will miss them.  Dottie and Ken are going home too, but we have a few more weeks together.

The Dominion Republic, the country that shares the island of Hispaniola with the always impoverished and chaotic Haiti is not on most cruisers itineraries.  Strategically it’s in a brilliant location for a stop traveling north or south, but has few good anchorages, and it’s expensive to check into for just an overnight stop.  We determined, however that we wanted to see it, and decided along with Dot & Ken, on Puerto Plata, and the recommended Ocean World Adventure Park and Marina.   It’s a lot like Sea World with a much lower budget, but equally enthusiastic “trainers” who work with the animals and participate in the silly, but kinda cute, skits.  You know the “CLAP NOW” kind of enthusiasm, all in rapid Spanish and LOUD.  We had a back stage pass as our slip was right behind the set and seal pool, and when we’d hear the theme from the Pink Panther, we’d brace ourselves for Showtime.  I know I sound cynical, when in actuality; I laughed every time as the kids squealed and sang out, “Who Let the Dogs Out-woof-woof”, and clapped at the antics.  I’m a sucker for people having a good time.  It is also a Casino with a floor show; scantily clad beautiful girls with elaborate headdresses, gloved arms out and barely covered in feathers and sequins, prancing to canned music…of course we went, how can you resist a taste of the  Copacabana?.  It’s a good marina, but it is ¾ empty, and should probably lower its rates to attract more yachties as they would then feed the other parts of the operation, including the good and fairly priced restaurants.

We took a van/bus to the town of Puerto Plata for an afternoon.  Everyone was very friendly, but in particular one fellow who, at the end of our day, clung to us like saran wrap, showing us lots of things on our way to where he said we could catch the return bus to the resort.  He insisted, in that “me thinks thou protests too much” way, that he wasn’t doing it for money, he didn’t need money…only, after an hour of this…maybe - only if we wanted to, buy some milk for his daughter.  He took us to a squalid bar where the bus supposedly stops, or at least passes by, which by coincidence, sold the milk - which turned out to be formula at $25USD, along with cold beer.  But, hey, the free bus did go by, and he did run out in front of it to stop it, so I guess it was a win-win situation; sometimes being played is such fun.

We hired a car and driver to take us on an island tour - as much as we could see in one day, this is a big island and we would only scratch the surface.  You hire the guide, and he in turn goes out to a taxi van and hires the taxi.  The guide told us to call him “Macarena”, he considers himself quite the historian, and claimed many celebrity clients, none of whom registered with us.   We understood very little of what he said, it was an unusual kind of Spanglish he spoke.  Dottie and I fell into a fit of giggles when we thought he was taking us to a whorehouse when what he said was courthouse.  There are a lot of both on the island apparently.  He loved to point out hookers, and some looked like young teenage girls, others like peasant women selling fruit by the side of the road.  The taxi driver rolled his eyes at us from time to time.  We visited a cigar factory run by a lecherous Robin Williams look alike German ex-pat with tiny reading glasses worn way down a long nose with piercing, laughing blue eyes, show us how they roll cigars on our thighs.  We also found ourselves in Amber and Larimer workshops…you know the drill.

A big attraction was Playa Cabarete.  It’s a wind surfing and kite boarding beach that attracts hundreds of enthusiasts, and is such fun to watch.  There was every color of sail, and every level of boarder.  The learning curve seems quite steep and I know I am much to chicken to try it, but what a thrill it must be to catch the wind and just skip across the rolling surf.  Wow, most impressive.  We stayed for a few hours. I checked out the hotels there, and they are quite nice and seemed to be doing a good business.  I can see why it’s catching on with Canadians.

At the end of the day, Macarena was very pleasant and helpful though, and took us to the fresh market and helped us bargain for lovely fruit and vegetables, and stopped at the supermarket for other items we needed.   We thoroughly enjoyed our very full day, and our time in “The DR”.

Time to go, next it’s the Turks and Caicos, and my 99^th country!  WooWoo indeed.

 LIKE A VIRGIN- ISLAND-again

FEBRUARY 2009

British Virgin Islands

Woo Woo, we made it to Virgin Gorda at first light after a beautiful overnight run from Anguilla.  We first visited the lovely British Virgin Islands waaaay back in 1974 and it became one of our favorite places to charter sailboats.  We’ve not been back since the mid 90’s and see that it continues to change.  For us nothing can match the simplicity that was, when the Bitter End was just a small collection of cottages with a nice bar and fresh seafood eatery.  Chartering was a pretty new idea and brought work to the lovely gentle “Queens English” speaking locals.  Today, with the proliferation of charter companies, that attitude has changed.  Polite, but not what I’d call “welcoming”.  Nevertheless, the island is still beautiful, large boulders tumble down into the still sparkling blue sea, the trade winds blow, and the sun shines brightly.  Speaking of trades, they really are blowing this year and it’s cooler than the normally ideal 80 degrees in and out of the water.

After making landfall and checking into the country, we were off on a rip roaring dinghy ride to the Baths, the renowned beach at the SW tip of the island with large granite boulders extending out into the sea.   The waves crash into the rocks and form large azure blue pools with the light and rushing water altering the look every few seconds.  It’s fairly easy to clamber in, over and around these giants, and gentle enough to swim and splash in the pools, but getting to them is a riot.  You used to be able to just pull your dink up on an adjoining beach and walk over.  Now in order to protect the coral and I imagine with the crowds, there is a thick rope barrier to prevent you from dinking in.  You tie the dinghy to the rope and swim ashore, timing the waves to insure you are not picked up and deposited ON it, or into the rocks.  Not easy and I almost wimped out.  But after watching others do it, and especially ladies I judged to be older than me…well, I sucked it up and jumped in too.  Nothing motivates me like feeling like a complete dork sitting in a dinghy tied to rope while everyone else is in the water.  On the eve of my 59^th birthday, I guess I’m a little long in the tooth to use the high school excuse of “it’s that time of the month” to avoid doing something I’m afraid to do.

I survived that, took the obligatory photos for the “At the Baths” wall at home which shows the kids at various ages, and went back on WS for a nice afternoon nap.  It was dinner topsides on the fly bridge, and movies that Pat brought from her “For Your Consideration” collection.  As part of “the” Academy, she gets the great Oscar nominated films on DVD’s to preview, and she knows we just love movies and haven’t seen anything new for months, and the Oscar telecast is next Sunday, so we’ll be caught up.

The next day we cruised the length of the long mountainous island up to the Bitter End Yacht Club and took a mooring.  Tried more snorkeling, but “where oh where have all the fishies gone?”  We hopped on and off the dinghy with a little coral reef chart looking for the perfect spot…but never really found much, maybe we’re spoiled, or maybe things really aren’t as they used to be, people moved in, the sea life moved out.

In honor of my birthday, we had a progressive evening and went place to place in the dinghy.  First it was cocktails at the BEYC, then to Dreamweaver for a fantastic dinner Dottie and Rose made of fresh caught Wahoo (Capt. Chaos caught it) and then over to Voyager for a riotous game of Cranium, and the rich Bread Pudding cakelike dessert Dottie and I learned to make in St. Kitts.   What fun, I love a fuss over moi!  Friends, food, wine, presents, cake and games…life is good, and in fact it keeps getting better.

Weather being so -so, and not clear enough to dive the Wreck of the Rhone, we decided to stay put and have a nice relaxing day.  We went ashore to explore other parts of the bay.  Posh Biras Creek Resort is “next door”, we climbed to the top of the hill and down to the beach on the other side at Bercher’s Bay.  We had lunch out at the waterside Fat Virgin Café, and tried the water again.  Pat and I cooked up some Caribbean favorites for dinner onboard, and we selected another great movie.

Our guests don’t have much time left, and we are determined to see our old favorite haunts and with that intention, we cruised all day through the BVI chain, planning to stop at the ship restaurant William Thornton on Norman Island for lunch, but it looked abandoned, so we just cruised into the bay, dropped the hook and had lunch aboard.  We continued onto Jost Van Dyke for a big Thursday night at Foxy’s.  Hmmm, apparently Thursday is no longer the big night at Foxy’s, now it’s Friday.  Darn.  Never mind, we had 6 members of the Big Bear Lake Yacht Club in attendance and we were going to have fun…no matter if we were the only ones.  With a little effort, we livened the place up and had a good time.  When Les and Rose went the following week with their young nieces, and on a Friday night, it rocked.  Timing is everything.

Wind and seas picked up and it was a nasty wet ride back to the boats, but we survived the night and even made it back on shore in the morning for a walk through the town.  As this was Bob & Pat’s last night aboard and we needed to get them within ferry distance of their flights out of St Thomas, we secured reservations at Soper’s Hole on Tortola’s West End, a nice, but very busy and pricey marina.  In tootling around Frenchman’s Cay we discovered a wonderful new restaurant at the little hotel that Bob & Pat wanted to take us to for dinner.  It was wonderful and a nice walk from the marina under starry skies.

After breakfast with Dottie and Ken, we learned that the marina needed our slip NOW as they had returning charter boats that they had to turn around, and guests that had to catch flights.  Panic!  The boys quickly went across to clear out of the BVI, we tossed Bob and Pat their luggage, thanked them for coming as they rushed to catch the next ferry to the USVI and we threw off the lines just as the charter boat was turning down the finger.  Before we knew it, we were out the channel, waving goodbye and on our way…somewhere.  Let’s see can it be that we were only in the BVI for five days, and somehow, it was enough?  Looked at each other, and said, “Yeah, we’re done”, let’s see what St. John has to offer!

USVI

St. John is one of the islands we have never explored, and we were ready.  We found a dock to tie to in Cruz Bay and checked back into the USA!  We’d been out of the country, well Wandering Star had, for a year and a half.  I thought Uncle Sam’s Customs official would come down, pull her apart, demand to see everything we’d purchased, confiscate our liquor and hand us a tax bill.  They could not have been more blasé.  “Your Passport please” and we handed them over, he scanned it, handed it back and said “Welcome Home”.  I asked if that was all, and he said, “Yes”.  Not a man of many words, so we picked them up and skipped out the door.

There is no place to moor, anchor or tie up in Cruz Bay, but not far away is beautiful Caneel Bay and a wide open anchorage.  We knew that Ade’s long lost cousin on his father’s side was due there somewhere, but Ade didn’t know what the boat looked like, and in fact had only seen his cousin once a few years back.  Ade’s sister and brother in law were also flying down to join them.  Amazingly, soon after we settled on our mooring, a nice guy dinked by and asked Ade if he was Bobby’s cousin.   It was Michael, the fellow who’d just sailed the boat down with him from Mystic, Ct.   “Joy for All Seasons” was nearby.  They were on their way to Red Hook to pick up Bobby’s wife Paula, and Don & Audrey.  Small world.  In the meantime, Dottie and Ken caught up with us and we had a dinner together before Dottie flew back home for a job interview.

Over the next days we cruised around St. John, had the gang over for drinks and nibbles, and enjoyed fantastic hamburgers on “Joy”.  Once everyone else flew home, we met again onshore at one of Bobby’s favorite haunts.  I spent lots of time in the square where local artisans had set up an open market for an art festival.  I found lots of little trinkets to share with friends back home.

We made our way to St. Thomas and soon realized that the marina had changed completely and that this IGY was so totally catering to mega yachts that it is not even practical for a 43′ to tie up - huge concrete docks and almost impossible for us to get on and off the boat.  We anchored out instead.  Met Les and Rose for happy hour and told them that we’d be heading back to St. John.  Too much city for us…we need a more gradual reentry.  Les is in the midst of forming a new company and needed to be in close contact with his partners and the real world, so they were staying put until their guests arrived.

We couldn’t get back to Caneel Bay fast enough.  We went ashore for lunch to the still elegant Caneel Bay resort, formerly one of the chic Rock Resorts developed by the Rockerfellers and catering to the elite, it is still nice, but less exclusive.   At the other end of the scale, we also spent a few days over in Coral Bay, this is where the real people of St. John live…some on their boats, others in artist cottages, or hippie huts scattered along the shore and in the hills.  It’s Funkytown to be sure.  We liked it.  Craziest dinghy dock we’ve ever seen with an astonishing assortment of boats behind Skinny Legs.  Too early to try that  renowned Bar & Grill, so we walked the entire bay, found lunch at the Aqua Bistro, provisions at the complete Lilly’s Gourmet Market and Deli, and finally tired, stopped back at Skinny Legs for happy hour.  We found the people to match all those dinghies’s…artists and sailors, and hippies in a time warp, with a few middle aged cruisers like us on the outer edges.

It was time to get some clean up done, so off to the quieter side of the island of St. Thomas at Red Hook.   American Yacht Harbor, another IGY marina, is still cruiser friendly.  As we were backing in, we realized that our immediate neighbors were Walter and Susan from Kingdom, a fun couple we’d met at Thanksgiving in Grenada.  We made plans to get together and later heard all about their amazing few months.  They had crew aboard, one of whom turned out to be a Cuban doctor with a Guyana passport who sought exile in the US once they arrived in the USVI.  What a story.

Red Hook is very convenient.  A good market is across the road, there are several great restaurants (fish at Off the Hook was very good), and a sophisticated Wine Bar & Restaurant for evenings when you want quiet conversation, not reggae. I was able to take long walks, but warned not to do it at night as apparently there is a crime problem.  I tried walking to a large shopping center with a K Mart, but after 4 miles realized I was either lost, or it was much further than described.   I was rescued by a bus-van that is very inexpensive and goes in a counter clockwise route around the island all day long, much like in the Windward’s.

We had only a few days before we were due in San Juan, Puerto Rico for our flight home for work, so we plotted our course and reluctantly made plans to leave the Virgins.  The weather was really nice now, and we would have liked to have had another week or two to just hang on a mooring in St. John.  This island is still like a Virgin.  Thank Goodness.

St Maarten and Anguilla                                                                  February 2009

Okay, geographically this is part of the Leeward’s, but this felt like a new chapter…

We set our course for St. Maarten, thinking it would be a quick stop for us as we were to meet friends and Big Bear neighbors Bob & Pat in the BVI in a week’s time…or so we thought, and then we heard it… that  engine noise, the choking one that says “help me I need fuel”, and then confirmed by a look at the dropping rpm gauge…”no no no no no, don’t you dare you miserable piece of %&$#@ “- stop that thinking Jo, breathe, center - “I take that back, you lovely wonderful, fantastic hard working engine - I know you are fine, all is well”…rumble rumble….”oh crapola!- pleeeese don’t stop!”  Ade slowed her waaay down and she stabilized.   She would not allow us over 1000 rpm’s.    Our floating pit crew, Ken on DW and Les on V were there hovering, helping us call marinas to see if there was a Cummins mechanic on the island and where we should go.  For usually lucky people, our luck ran out on the mechanic…the one and only Cummins guy was at the airport and on his way off island for a class, and yes, he was taking his diagnostic computer with him…won’t be back for a week.  But we didn’t have a week - guests were coming - they already had their airline tickets…to St. Thomas!

To enter Simpson Bay, where we definitely wanted to be, and where we were able to secure a slip at IGY, we had to pass through the cut, which has a drawbridge that opens on a limited schedule.  Thankfully we got that far, dropped the hook and hoped that she would start up again when it was time to pass through.  She did, and we had Les & Rose in their dink, the IGY dockhand in another and then Dreamweaver close behind just in case she decided to stop mid transit.  Our own little parade.  As we passed thru the drawbridge, we got our first taste of what this Dutch side of the island was all about, the deck at the SMYC was jammed with happy hour enthusiasts shouting out a warm welcome.  We were escorted to a slip in the lovely Simpson Bay IGY marina.  Phew!

Ade, Ken and Les figured out what they thought it was, and a call to Hatton Marine in Seattle confirmed that it sounded like a fuel pump problem.  We did not carry a spare, cuz apparently ‘IT NEVER GOES OUT’  - oh yeah?  There were no replacements on the island, but thankfully Hatton had one in stock and would FED EX it to us, but with a very haphazard air schedule, we learned we would not have it for several days.

Okay, well now, what about dear friends on their way.  I was heartsick, what do we tell them, we might make it to the Virgins?  We might be stuck in St. Maarten for a few days or a month?  We didn’t know for sure if it was the pump, and if not, then we would be stuck until the St. Maarten mechanic returned, and then, who knows?

I bring this up because it is a very real problem that we all encounter while cruising and meeting guests.  Stuff happens, plans don’t always work out.  Well, there is a perfect solution.  Pick great, understanding, ‘we are in it for the adventure’ friends and no matter what you throw at them, they are game!  Such are our friends.  Bob & Pat took their original flight to STT, then purchased a one way to St. Maarten and met us there.  They said they’d figure out how to get back for the return flight from wherever we were.  Aren’t they terrific?

That settled, and we in a more accepting place on the current engine glitch, we realized that we were “stuck” in a wonderful place.   It is filled with more Mega Yachts than we have ever seen, even in Ft. Lauderdale, St. Bart’s, Antigua or Seattle, those big babies were all in St. Maarten in February.  Jimmy Buffet’s beautiful Wedgewood blue and modest by comparison “Continental Drifter” was there, as well as the huge “Limitless”, which apparently belongs to the owner of the Limited.  We peeked in her “garage deck” and if you can imagine this, she carries two pristine Chris Crafts along with several jet skis and other water craft.  I think Wandering Star could fit on her decks.

We’d figured out how to get into the exclusive other IGY at Isle de Sol where they were all berthed.  We announced to the guards that we were going to the public “Sand Bar” restaurant and after they made note of our passports, etc., they allowed us to pass into this rarified gathering of the world’s best yachts.  We quickly realized that there were very few owners aboard; it was mainly idle crews having a wonderful time.  In fact, these boats are seldom used by the owners-especially these days, and the charter business is way off.  So we mingled with the impossibly young crews.  They are from all over the world, have great stories to tell, and are so darn cute.  We all wished we’d known about these jobs when we were 20!

Simpson Bay is a great location. Jimbo’s restaurant was right there at the Marina and was our internet gathering space.  Dottie and Ken were there most days clicking away, when he wasn’t helping out with various mechanical issues.  The boys found fantastic marine stores with everything  (but Cummins fuel pumps), great supermarkets, even another really good hair dresser, a first class movie theatre, top notch restaurants and bars with live music, and a really helpful and friendly cruising community.  We danced like we’d not been able to since Mexico.  Lagoonie’s was crazy on 007 night.  We wore sort of costumes and sipped apple martinis, but Les and Rose really got into it with circa 1960’s groovy James Bond outfits.  Other than a tree falling on me and knocking me to the ground, (a huge free standing teak trunk)  while I was boogying - and let the record reflect that it was a stranger that danced into it, thus pushing it ON ME,  it was a fun night.

Bob & Pat arrived in good spirits on Thursday night.  The next day we took the dink over to Marigot Bay on the French side to spend some Euro’s and enjoy a nice sidewalk café lunch.  It was Ken’s birthday and we’d cooked up plans for a great celebration at a few of the local haunts. The pump finally arrived and Ken and Les came over to help out with the installation.  Apparently Les has also been a diesel mechanic and was limbering up to climb into our engine room and take it on.

Bob decided to escort us girls to downtown Philipsburg for a look around.  We poked around the shops and craft/artist stalls and wandered the almost deserted beach.  We came across an adult toy store and left poor Bob on the steps for an hour…he refused to accompany us inside- good thing, we were in hysterics looking at the “toys”… do people really use…oh, never mind.

We returned to the boat, and to our great relief heard the engine purr once again-it was the fuel pump - yippee.  Thank you guys!  Trip On!   We had a weather window and so the intrepid three once again made plans to move onto the BVI, via Anguilla.

Anguilla is just a three hour run and it was a beautiful day, so we waited for the 11AM opening and headed out into the Caribbean Sea.  It was a Sunday afternoon when we arrived and all the little beach shack restaurants were busy.  A great bluesy group was playing at Johno’s and they were fantastic.  We shared a few of the local dishes and the non-skippers had a few beers.  The music and people watching was great.  Wish we had more time here…but a weather window must not be ignored in these circumstances…maybe we will be back!  As the sun set, we were off again.

January - February 2009

Jammin thru da Leeward Islands-a wild fast ride!

Dominica, Guadeloupe, Antigua, Nevis & St Kitts and St. Barths

Dominica is situated between the two French islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe, and the fact that they are not part of France is evident immediately.  They are poor.  Really poor. But they are a lovely people living on a beautiful unspoiled island.  After a particularly rough passage for Dreamweaver and WS, we pulled into calm, protected Roseau Bay.  Pancho, a boat man, came right out and directed us to one of his moorings.  We liked him immediately and so allowed him to tie us up just in front of the Anchorage hotel where we could pick up the internet.  He offered to take us to customs, but we independent souls decided to do it on our own; it wasn’t quite as easy as it looked, but we figured it out.

Roseau town has charming old Caribbean houses, many very worn, but some are being ‘fixed up’ (renovations would be stretching it) and colorfully painted, their gingerbread trim repaired and gleaming.  Everything we need is here, a marine store to fix things that broke on the last passage, a bakery for Ken’s bread, and a farmers market for fresh produce.  Much of the fresh produce for the eastern Caribbean islands is grown here.

I had an opportunity to do what I love to do best, get up early and walk for miles through the small island towns, to see things with fresh eyes and when possible, capture images with my camera.  A lovely Botanical Garden is at the edge of the city, and there are several streets heading in each direction.  Roseau has three old stone churches, and church bells loudly wake up the town at 6AM on Sunday mornings.  Everyone seems to go, and in grand style.  The ladies dress to the nines!  Many wearing floor length dresses, much like bridesmaids or mother of the bride, with hats to match.  As I walked by I could see that each one was filled to capacity with clean well-dressed people.  They may not have much money, but they do not use that as an excuse to be unkempt. They are elegant, beautiful and graceful in their Sunday finery.

Pancho was our boatman, and as such, the one to go to for anything and everything we might need, like taxis or a tour…and we get the impression it is very bad form to not use your boatman’s services.  Well, it just so happens that both he and his wife, Belgian born Cecilia, are tour guides…and the old family car, a taxi!  What a coincidence!  The lovely Cecilia took us, along with their 5 year old son, on a tour of the southern part of the island.  It’s lush and beautiful, much like St. Lucia and Martinique.  We went inland to the Rainforest, visited popular Trafalgar Falls, visited a private waterfall park with bubbling hot sulphur pools, and had lunch overlooking the river and springs.  We continued up into the Mourne Trois Pitons National Park and all the way back up to the Fresh Water Crater Lake, which is above the tree line, foggy and cold and quite remote.  There are so many hikes one could do with more time; this is an outdoor enthusiast’s playground.

Our next Dominica stop was Portsmouth Town Anchorage.  Near the anchorage there are several beach side restaurants and bars.  The once popular Purple Turtle is suffering due to the loss of their dock.  Portsmouth, like many of the island ports were especially hard hit in October 2008 by Hurricane Omar.  Small docks and piers have been washed away and beached ships litter the harbor.  It is terrifically expensive to rebuild the docks that are the lifeblood of the small waterfront establishments, there is no government clean up money to loan, and heck they don’t even have the money to remove the ship wrecks.  We hope a salvage company steps up soon.

Martin, aka the water taxi “Providence” was our boatman here.  He set us up with a mooring, offered to provide us with anything we needed, took garbage, laundry, etc., and arranged to take us on a tour up the Indian River.  He picked us up from our boats very early the next morning, navigated around a huge wrecked freighter that almost completely blocks the entrance to the river.  We were the first ones out that day, and it was still and perfect.  We wove our way through the tree canopied shady river,  Martin pointed out the spooky, swamp buttressed bloodwood trees, exotic birds, blue crabs and other flora and fauna that we would’ve missed without his skilled eyes.  At the head of the river, we hiked up to the waterfalls, it was a good tour, rather similar to the “jungle” dinghy cruises we did in Mexico.  Martin dropped us in town to shop, find ATM’s, and have a look around, and then came back for us a few hours later and delivered us back to our boats.

Town isn’t much compared to Roseau, but hey, they had Big Papa’s!  It’s not much either, but it does rock out.  A medical school, Ross University,  is nearby and it attracts many western students, and each Thursday night, they all head to Big Papa’s. They serve dinner upstairs at big funky tables with pretty good BBQ style food, and then quickly the action moves downstairs to an overcrowded beach bar with loud, fun music.  Trying to get to the restroom from anywhere is a close encounter of the most intimate kind.  Oh my!  Age does not matter to these people.  Naturally I had to go several times!!!

Guadeloupe

Cruisers like us, who intend to do the whole Eastern Caribbean in one winter and meet friends and family, know that choices must be made.  Do we have time to stop at Guadeloupe; the butterfly shaped ‘other’ French territorial island?  And if so, where in the butterfly do we want to go?  It is divided in two, the east side is Grande Terre, the west, Basse Terre.  In the middle is Point a Pitre and for shallow draft boats a chance to sail right through from the south to the north, dissecting the island.  That was an option for Dreamweaver and ourselves, but not for the larger Voyager, and they are always there for us.  We were all together again, and we know that those “halcyon” days will soon end.  Hmmm, we decided we had time for a quick stop, and that Deshaies, a fishing village on the northwest coast was our best bet.  It’s another charming island, with more restaurants than anything - also affluent compared to the other islands and quite European.  We chose poorly that night, we went for waterfront (why? don’t we get enough living in the water?) ambiance, which with bad food loses its charm, oui?  We should have stayed with the ones the Doyle guides suggested - and here is a good time to mention how much we like the Doyle Guides.  They are the very best!  Informative, well written and complete…when you have a Doyle, you don’t need others.  Kudos to you - we wish you had them for all of our travels.

Antigua

We had reservations at the marina in Nelson’s Dockyard, but it took them almost an hour to answer us on the radio, so we just circled around in the narrow passageway - a boat boy from the marina came out and said, “oh yeah mon, hmm, well, sure, let me get someone….” Another hour… finally the manager comes along in a dink and directs us in; it’s stern to, drop the anchor and back in up to a low stone wall.  Once in, it was over to customs and immigration, which is conveniently right in the Dockyard. Customs was well …government at work…slowly.  They were nice enough, just miserably disinterested in their jobs and customers.  We finally got through but only because the soap operas playing in each little cubby hole office finally ended.  Seriously, TV was the priority.  It also explained the non-existent service at the marina. The Dockyard, and the marina in it, are considered a national park, and therefore employees are also civil “servants” (ever wonder about that term?) …it’s all so clear now.  Despite the hurry up and wait nature of our arrival - we were thrilled to be there and ready for all the company we expected.

Our friends Mark and Sue Ohlendorf were on an extensive Princess Cruise and we coordinated a day together to begin in the capital city of St. Johns.  We rented a car, right side steering as this was a former English colony, and off we went.  We had a great day and somehow traveled the whole island and saw nothing at the same time.  Every little road that promised some wonderful sight seemed abandoned.  We were frequently lost and laughed a lot.  We did find a lovely beachside restaurant near Long Bay for a delicious lunch and visit, and were able to take them down to English Harbor and Nelsons’s Dockyard and to Falmouth next door to see the dozens and dozens of super yachts that were currently moored there.  The futuristic looking Maltese Falcon was in!

Our neighbors at Nelson’s were a young couple, Eric and Kristi, on a 43′ Nordhavn “Kosmos”.  They are amazing, very bright and enthusiastic, and in the final legs of a two year around the world odyssey.  They were here on a stopover to see her visiting father, and then on their way westward, covering some of the territory we just completed, and home to Southern California.   They did not have a lot of boating experience, but saw this window of opportunity at this stage of their lives (early 30’s) and prepared brilliantly, trained themselves and once commissioned in Dana Point, California hung a right and out across the Pacific.  Eeeek.  Rich experiences that I hope Kristi does put in book form.  With the right boat, attitude, proper preparations, anything is possible…and yes, they admit to good luck too!

Everyone we met at Nelson’s was interesting, they came and went, and each left a little sunshine.  We timed it right and were around for the insane Sunday night at Shirley Heights.  Everyone (really) in the area goes up for the music and sunset.  There is BBQ for dinner, full bars, and crafters selling their wares, and lots and lots of people dancing and having fun.  Big communal picnic tables where groups mingled and conversations took on several directions.

Dottie flew back in and fortunately was on the same flight as Ade’s sister Audrey and hubby Don Hazen who would stay with us for the week.  We took another stab at a circle island drive, but this time we were better prepared and checked out resorts, windsurfing beaches, etc.  There are several great restaurants just outside the gates of Nelson’s that often have live music.  We enjoyed a yummy dinners out at “Abbra’s”, found little Pasta Rite Ya, and Trappas closer to Falmouth.  Thursday night it was back for the midweek Shirley Height’s experience, much quieter, but we had to show the others that splendid view.  We were looking for more live music with our dinner, and Uncle Don found a local place across from Trappas and was able to talk his way onto the keyboard and offered up a mean rendition of “Johnny be Good”, which the band and female singer caught onto quickly - we got everyone up and dancing- patrons, staff, everyone.  What fun.  Our newest marina neighbors, two lovely, and up to that point, we thought, proper English couples were there and ROCKED.  Told Audrey they thought our party patrol group of 8 was “brilliant,” …hmmm, first time we’ve heard that!  One of those nights we will always remember.

Off to harbor hop and find places to snorkel, maybe windsurf and beach comb.  We gunk holed all day and finally decided to overnight in Deep Bay on the north west end of the island, just below St. John’s.  The shallow wreck of the Andes is there, as well as Ft. Barrington which gave us a chance to do some snorkeling, swimming and hiking and BBQ on deck.  We next went into the marina in Jolly Harbor.  Ken’s brother Marshall and family had flown in, and soon Don & Audrey would fly out, it’s close to the airport and therefore the ideal place for those situations.  We finally found a resort with windsurfing, and wind, so the Hazen’s purchased a Day Pass at neighboring Jolly Beach Resort and spent their last day on island playing tourist, instead of yachtie.  We stayed aboard and watched the Obama Inauguration for the morning and then mooched in on them for the afternoon.

Time to move on up island after a really great visit to Antigua.  We had a lot of company on Antigua and stayed a few weeks, and we would do so again.  I mention this because just after we left there was a tragic murder of a mega yacht Captain right along the walk between Nelson’s Dockyard and Falmouth - the route we walked several times each day and night.  It was a purse snatching gone wrong.  Despite that, we still think that most Antiguans are wonderful and the island worth a visit, just pay attention the way you would in any city, especially at night and if someone tries to grab your bag - let them have it.

From here, there are many choices.  Some backtrack to Montserrat, but she was “erupting” again.  Others go to Antigua’s sister island, the remote and pristine Barbuda, but for us - as time was again a factor, that routing would mean missing Nevis and St. Kitts.  We have to guard against that “been there done that” attitude which kills the spirit of any adventurer…there is always something unique about another island, or town…but if we try to do them all, we will insure that attitude.

ST. KITTS & NEVIS:

We were on our own in Nevis and it was a frustrating stop.  Too many rules, too many ways to break them without even trying.  Tie up to a buoy, go in, wait for hours to check in and pay fees for moorings not used - adds up to a $100 stop.  Nothing open in Charlestown at all, streets deserted except for insistent taxi drivers.  It was a Sunday, and how we keep arriving on Sunday’s is a mystery, it’s never planned, often a factor of weather I guess, but it complicates matters for sure.  Decided to just overnight and move onto St. Kitts at first light where it seems it will be a bit more hospitable and have more to offer.

*We did however take a ferry back the following week and had a great day tour of the island when it was “open”.  We had a very professional driver-guide, and he filled us in on the local situation.  St. Kitts and Nevis, are two islands but one country.  St. Kitts built a cruise port and currently all the cruise ships are going there.  They also have more resort hotels.   Hurricane Omar damaged the resort hotels on Nevis.  The Grand Hotel, a very luxe property brought in big spending clients for golf and quiet unspoiled beaches.  This property had been the best source of tourists and income for the island has been closed since Omar hit in October, and it looks like it will be down for at least a year.  It’s a major blow to the economy and is killing lovely little properties along the coast, like the new Coco Palms, an elegant restaurant and beach club.  We told our guide about the frustrations of yachties who are skipping Nevis due to the costly and confusing check in and mooring system.  He knows they are over regulated and is trying to convince the government that we boaters are a good source of revenue.   There are lovely anchorages north of Charleston, so my advice is, don’t arrive on a Sunday, and plan to stay awhile to amortize the fees…or take a ferry for a day trip!

St. Kitts:  St Kitts is great.  It’s another drop dead beautiful island, although the anchorage outside of Basseterre is just awful.  There is an okay marina at Pt. Zante that they are trying to improve.  The Wi-Fi they advertise means than you carry your laptop into the cruise port shopping area and find a curb or bench and steal it from whatever shop is open.   Weather dictated a few day stop and it was welcome and wonderful to kind of dig in.  We walked all over town, there are a few decent grocery stores (the best one is about a mile out of town), and took another of our all day, circle island tours, again finding probably the worst van and craziest driver - we sure have had some doozies, but they are always memorable characters.  This one ended up stealing a baby goat from a herd as we were coming back from Cockleshell Bay.  Dottie and I hope that he will raise it for milk, but Ade thinks he’s dinner.

Ken, still on his quest to find the best rum in the Caribbean asked about St. Kittian Rum - Tony, our driver proceeded to pull over to a small neighborhood rum bar along the road.  This was definitely a local place, and we all bravely took our shots, deciding that we wanted none of it- shutter. There are little townships all along the coast with funny names like Old Road Town, Bloody Point, Newton Ground.  Everyone knows everyone else and it’s very political.  You are born into a political party.  If your parents were…say, “New Socialists for a Democratic Society” (I made that name up, but they sound like that, you have no clue what they really stand for), then you are too.  Jobs are doled out based on who is in power and you are lucky if you belong to that party.  It’s really almost tribal and with serious consequences.   The people however are all very polite and well mannered, and speak with beautiful Queens English accents and very little of the Rasta sing song we’ve become used to.   We met a lovely older dignified black man, and learned that he was a UCLA graduate, from the 1940’s. He and Ade compared notes and were delighted to meet another Bruin.

There are many Anglo’s who have lived there for generations, in fact, the sugar industry was initially run by Irish indentured servants, and it was the Sephardic Jews from Brazil who  brought the  secret process of crystallizing sugar, which was necessary for shipping, to the island.  The islands finally had a valuable export and no longer needed to try and compete with the South for tobacco production.  Then of course there are those whites who never left once the island won its independence from England.  We took a cooking class from American sisters who have lived there for decades and who were restaurant owners.  They said that many of the recipes originally came from the rather boring Irish and English dishes, and then adapted by the African slaves using local ingredients.  Where the English had four ingredients, they now have 12.  Look for a weekly special “Goat Water”.  Sounds terrible, but it’s really an adapted Lamb Stew using Goat…and God only knows what else.  Tasty.

Needless to say, the restaurants are plentiful and good.  In town we enjoyed “Stone Walls” and “Ballahoo”, and out on the SE peninsula, where there is a good anchorage, Reggae Beach Bar & Grill is great.  But it is on, or near Frigate Bay that you will find an endless variety of restaurants.  For fun however, you really must try Mr. X’s Shiggidy Shack for a Thursday night Jump Up.  Delicious lobster and ribs, a live band and a huge bonfire draw tourists from the posh resorts, locals, yachties and rummies.

SABA/Statia:  We’d stopped there on a charter back in the 80’s, so we skipped it this time, but Dottie and Ken made it over and loved the diving.

St.Barthelemy (aka St. Barts or St. Barth’s)

Gustavia, St. Barts:  Oooo, lala!  Well, this is just beautiful.  We tried to tie up inside the harbor, but it was not to be.  It’s stern to the wall and outside where they had a spot for us but it was crazy with wakes and just not a nice ride, so after two hours, we hightailed it out to the anchorage where the others were, settled our tummies and dropped the dink.  Good choice.  It was fun watching mega yachts, little boats and people in the anchorage.  We checked in which is convenient and friendly.  It is a French Island, but a free port like St.Martin.  Euros are the currency, and French is the official language, but English is spoken everywhere.

It had been many years since our last visit and it was a brief one, so it was with new eyes that we explored.   Casual Elegant…that fits it.  Even the shabby places…and people, are shabby chic.  It’s a small town you get to know quickly, but still there is something new that catches your eye when you walk down a now familiar street.  I loved it.  We went to ‘Eddie’s’ for dinner the first night and it was as good as the Doyle Guide said.  We of course sat outside at ‘Le Select’ a few times, trying to act casual and spot celebrities.  The people watching was phenomenal. Beautifully clad Europeans were plentiful, but then you’d spot something…or one, amiss.  There she was, an older women with Marge Simpson hair, an all white linen outfit, large Olsen twins sunglasses, a huge Kate Spade colorful bag and then hot pink plastic CROCS…it’s just not right.  We only hope she wasn’t American.

We usually parked the dink at ‘Le Marine’ on the SW side of the harbor and had lunch a few times, pricey, but good and convenient.  The ‘Strand’ has a wonderful location and champagne Lounge.  The ‘Wall House’ is also excellent, be sure to make reservations.  It would take weeks to try all the great restaurants.

We wanted to see the whole island, and the Dobbe’s, who were here with their Catamaran a few years ago, suggested seeing the island via Quads.  Dottie had a neck problem and insisted we go on without them, while they continued to explore on foot.  The first order of business is to get to the top of the hill and watch the planes land, right over your head.  It was a blast.  Up and down the steep hills to the beaches we went.  We stopped at posh ‘Nikki Beach’ at Baie St. Jean on the NE side and considered having lunch-until we looked at the menu, and quickly made the decision for just a little cold beverage.  It is a seductive ritzy white oasis with beach beds, filmy white draperies and low sofas and tables, and prices to pay for the spectacular view.  Great for date night, but just not where you want to dine after a dirty ride around town on a Quad with outfits to match your ride.  We hope others weren’t playing “spot the Yank”.   We hit every corner of the island and could easily have lingered at any of them.  Ahhh.

I could live on this island, can you tell?

Holidays 2008

HO HO HO - A Jolly Christmas in St. Lucia and Happy New Year in Martinque

The problem with cruising guides is that they are rarely right up to date.  This we discovered again as early morning dawned and we made our way to the entrance to Rodney Bay having sailed all night from Bequia…only to find a huge sign at the mouth of the harbor announcing that anchoring is no longer permitted inside the bay.  Well drat.  We know that the marina is not taking reservations as they are “firmly committed to the ARC”.  The outside anchorage is rough this morning and not at all what we intended, so we decide to go on inside for a look see anyway.  We are looking for the customs office as on the chart it looks like there might be temporary dock space, but there is a huge new marina section being built for mega yachts and we can’t quite figure it out.

So, as we are winding our way through this shallow but lovely harbor we see an outside slip open, no tell tale leavings of it being an owned slip, so figure it must be transient and decide to slip in and wait for someone to wake up and give us suggestions…well that was my idea, Ade’s was, “a-hah, we’re in, harder to turn us out”!  So with that attitude, we start shopping answers to our query, “can we stay”?  The angle that worked for us was to find one of the many boat boys offering cleaning services to help us get permission to stay.  With that and a sincere promise to the office to vacate the slip should any ARC boat need it we were set for the week.  Yippee.  Now we can dig in and get ready for the kids to arrive.

The ARC, the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers is a big deal, over 200 boats sail from Las Palmas in the Canary Islands at the end of November and make their way to St Lucia for winter cruising in the Caribbean.  It usually takes about 3+ weeks and they are beat, but joyous, as they make their way in.  We were there to see many arrive and it’s a big celebration, with family that did not cross with them waiting with champagne and the committee there making announcements, mini steel drums playing, etc.  Lots of fun, we were lucky to be able to join in.

Rodney Bay is the perfect cruisers harbor with great supermarkets, laundries, marine stores, restaurants, and lovely beaches.  There was a masseuse who came by the boat to advertise, and we quickly signed up.  Sigh. I even found a pretty good hairdresser.  The only hope I have for finding a good salon is to find a local woman whose hair I like and ask for her hairdresser’s name.  In the Caribbean, where the majority of people are of African descent and frankly do not know how to deal with my baby fine very straight hair, it’s been more of a challenge!  For me, the drama comes up every five or six weeks.  I’ve had everything from snow white fried hair to various shades of rust!!  And this was with recommendations.   We had a mutt called Patty when we were growing up; my hair currently looks like her fur in the later part of her life!  Lovely.

We moved right in and got ready to welcome Heather and Ted for the holidays.  They arrived, but their luggage did not.  It of course included all those supplies and parts that we’ve been ordering for months, plus mail, gifts…and oh by the way, their clothes and essentials.  They made do and the inconvenience didn’t bother them at all, so we lost no time making plans and seeing the island.

St Lucia is just fantastically beautiful.  One of the Lesser Antilles, she was formed from ancient volcanoes millions of years ago.   She is lush, green and mountainous with steep river valleys, rainforests, waterfalls and fertile land.  Quite a contrast to desert islands like the ABC’s.  We hired a guide from the many who wait just outside the marina and belong to the professional association.  Prices are pretty much set, but you can negotiate a little.  The vans are in good shape and the guides speak perfect English and are very knowledgeable and accommodating.

Our first day’s journey took us to downtown Castries and the fresh markets, up and down the mountainous roads of the west coast through all the little villages and beaches and down to Soufriere and the spectacular Pitons.  We went to the exclusive Ladera Resort for lunch at the Dasheen Restaurant and were able to take a tour of the property and rooms - the suites each have their own pool inside the unit extending out onto decks that look out to the Pitons and the ocean…really a slice of heaven!  We hiked back to see the Diamond Waterfalls, toured the Botanical Gardens, and saw the last trace of volcanic activity at the Sulphur Springs.  Regrettably, we did not have time to climb the Pitons…we will do that the next time…when we stay at the resort!!

We moved the boat over to Vigie Cove in Castries, a little used anchorage that we really enjoyed.  The cruise ships dock near here, so there are lots of touristy things to do.  It is also near the domestic airport, so when the last piece of the kids luggage finally arrived, mysteriously at this airport (the international airport is at Vieux Fort, at the southern end of the island) they just walked over and retrieved it.  There is a duty free center right there so people watching was great, as was the opportunity to do a little last minute Christmas shopping.  Two of the islands best restaurants are in this cove, but darn it, neither open on Sunday…and it was Sunday.  We decided to stay long enough to make it in for Monday lunch at the famed Coal Pot Restaurant.  It was worth it.  Fantastic.  Michele Elliott is an artist who creates wonderful plates and dishes and this is owned by her family and her studio is on the property.

We made our way to the Marina at Marigot Bay where we had reservations for the holidays.  The marina is lovely, and Voyager was there with Les’ sister and brother in law, who we knew from the FUBAR.  Dottie and Ken joined us all a day later.  Heather and Ted did an all day inland Zip Line and Challenge Course that they said was incredible fun, we’d done one in PV last year and decided to let them go on their own.  We all went scuba diving though.  It was a riot.  Ted is not yet certified, but they have a program where non-Padi divers can go along with an instructor.  Ted is all long lean arms and legs and to watch him maneuver and work at buoyancy and not be able to ask questions (he is a most inquisitive fellow) as we dove 30 feet on our first dive was hilarious.  Trouble with laughing underwater is that water leaks up into your mask and floods it over and over again.  It was worth it.  He of course figured it all out and had a blast.  We all did.

St Lucia has really great restaurants and we lucked out and found ourselves across from another amazing one… the Rainforest Hideaway at Marigot.  The ambiance was brilliant, and everything we ordered was delicious, the kids said it was the best meal they have ever had!

The gang (there were ten now) all got together for a festive Christmas Eve of music and food.  Rose and Ade got out our big-ass drums from Cartagena, as well as all of the other instruments we’ve been gathering and we danced and sang well into the night.  By request, I think they requested it, we girls again sang “I Must Follow Him” and the boys “My Girl” - if we didn’t have video to prove otherwise, I’d think we were actually getting quite good.

Christmas was lovely, the boat was decorated with our 2 foot tree, lots of lights and stockings hung on the carved dolphins with care…we opened gifts, made a few Skype calls to family at home, brunched at the resort, and that afternoon Dottie and Ken joined us for dinner, while Les & Rose and Tom & Babe dined next door.  We just wish Kevin and Jenn could have been with us!

The kids flight out was the next day, so we sadly said goodbye to them, and to Dottie a day later as she had to fly home to take care of some family business.  We decided to take advantage of a weather window and move up island, back to Rodney and be in position for a run to Martinique for New Years.  Coming back into the Bay felt like going home.  It is a great marina and very well run, we really like St Lucia and encourage anyone who gets a chance to spend time here, it was the perfect island for visitors.  Easy to get in and out, so much to do on land and sea, and the restaurants are all different, and those we tried, all good!  Our New Year’s Resolutions will have to include dieting!

The weather window didn’t appear until New Year’s Eve Day, so we intrepid souls set a course for Fort de France and the promise of a fabulous French Fête for the evening.  Alas, said fête was actually the night before, we were told they had a huge fireworks display, music, etc…darn.  But, the market was open and we topped up on what we needed to celebrate on board.  I found a lovely looking piece of beef, called, oddly enough, faux boeuf.  OK.  My year of French is a bit rusty, but I think it means, phony beef.  It didn’t look like phony beef, so I bought it, along with a lovely baguette and fresh veggies.  Les and Rose brought out the lobsters they’d saved, we made lots of yummy nibblies, BBQ’d the lobster and steak (which tasted great) and voila…a four star meal to compete with anything they could have served onshore.  Les had French café music on, so the boys decided they needed little moustaches drawn on to complete the ambiance…and we girls donned wigs and a cancan attitude!  There were lots of individuals along the beaches who put on their own fireworks displays, so the show was complete.  We toasted the New Year in several time zones, amazingly even made it to our own Midnight!   Vive la Martinique!

We realized that this was a major holiday weekend and that nothing was going to be open in town, so we scooted over to the resort area of Trois-Inlets and Pointe du Bout where there was a prospect of more things being open.  Wrong.  Not much open at all.   But we went ashore for nice long walks, found a place for café and tried to get the internet, seems it is off all over the island for a few days.  We still had the buoy-weather report from St Lucia and we knew that we needed to keep going to take advantage of this short period of mild weather.  We needed to as we had to get to Antigua in time for our rendezvous with Don and Audrey and Dottie.  So, it was a one day stop at Trois-Inlets and then up to St. Pierre for WS and Dreamweaver.  Les and Rose had a few more days with Tom & Babe, so they were able to stay and see a bit more of the island.

St. Pierre was a good stop, not only is it a nice anchorage, there is lots to see.  This town had been a major city in the 1800’s with grand theatre’s and buildings, but it was completely destroyed in just ten minutes in 1902 when Mt. Pelee erupted.  All but two of the 30,000 residents were killed in the blast.  The blackened ruins are still evident, and many building incorporate these stone walls into their newer buildings.  The Museum, the Musee Vulcanologique is well worth the effort and the few Euro entrance fees.  Did I mention that Martinique is actually part of France?  We were told that citizens here enjoy the same rights and privileges of all French citizens.  The language is French and the currency the Euro…and consequently, it is more expensive, but the standard of living for the citizens is way beyond that of any other Caribbean nation.   I am sorry that these three stops were all that we were able to make in this lovely island country.  It’s on the “we’ll be back list” for sure.

And just like that, we are out of the fabled Windward Islands, and onto the Leeward’s.

Still December 2008 - THE LOVELY GRENADINES

St. Vincent and the Grenadines are a sovereign nation consisting of several smallish islands just above Grenada, with the much larger St Vincent as its Capitol in the north.  Union Island, Bequia, Mustique, Mayreau, Canouan, and the Tobago Cays, are probably the most well known, but there are dozens of them.  This was another new country for us, and an opportunity to visit places that clients from my past life as a travel agent and charter broker always really enjoyed.  Time and weather were again a factor, I don’t think that will ever end-until, and if, we decide to just sit somewhere for several weeks with nothing on the calendar for the foreseeable future.  Many of our fellow cruisers make this choice and look at us like we are on a race, but we are not, just trying to see a big world in our allotted time.  We set a goal and go for it, and for the calendar year 2008, these islands just about wrap it up.  2009 will take us the rest of the way through the Eastern Caribbean and up the East coast of the USA to Maine.  Perhaps winter 2009/10 will allow us time to just BE in one of these tropical paradises.  That’s on the to-do list too.  Right there, number 97, “just sit somewhere on a boat and veg-out.”

We stopped at Clifton, Union Island.  Securing an anchoring spot is the challenge here, but it’s still a great place to visit.  It’s a weird anchorage with the airport runway and a huge reef on the east side and a rather large shoal smack dab in the middle, so getting your bearings and scouting a spot is not easy.  We all had issues getting settled, we were made to move from what looked like a perfect spot, and Les and Rose had set and reset their anchor a few times. They finally found a great spot and got a good set and Les dropped the big dinghy and went out to explore.  We next heard Rose on the radio frantically calling “Voyager Mobile, Voyager Mobile”.  Seems they were anchored in the direct path of the rapidly approaching high speed ferry and were advised to move NOW.  Well, first she had to find her captain and get him back onboard… she is normally so calm and cool, we could hear stark terror in her voice - he made it back just in time and as the sun was setting, had to begin the search again.  Arrive early and I’d suggest looking for a spot east of the middle shoal, just west of the reef, or find a good boat boy and have him get you a mooring…but dive it, as some are not much of a mooring at all.  Onshore there is a lot to do.  The Anchorage Yacht Club is great and there are several other restaurants that are good for a quick lunch or breakfast.  Not much in the way of fine dining though.  We found a great ramshackle shop/coffee bar/bar, sort of at the end of the road in the SW part of the bay, Castello’s.  Everything is gaily painted here, EVERYTHING!  It’s got about

10 foot road frontage and then goes straight back, hooks to the left, then another quick right where it opens up quite a bit to about 50+ feet, then narrows again and goes up a hill…it has clothing, pictures, knickknacks, fresh baked good, coffee, beer and whatever, their house, a chicken coop, and a killer view from the top.  Castello, the wife, is an artist who we thought to be French, but is actually Israeli and sailed here with her husband who I think is Dutch, several years ago.  She told me in colorfully accented English that they bought the property for a good price; no one else had the imagination to see the possibilities.  They have inspired minds to have imagined this.  He sits, shirtless, on the porch of their house which, as I said, is somehow in the middle of this maze, working on his writing or computers I think.  You just have to see it to believe it.  Ade got a great shirt there.  I’ve washed it a few times and it holds up great and he gets compliments every time.

Too wordy today, so I will shorten this up to say, Tobago Cays - cool diving, but not as alive as we’d hoped, great giant Sea Turtles however, and worth the stop.  Boat boys with colorfully painted boats come by all the time trying to sell you everything from T-shirts, to bread, fruit, lobster, jewelry and anything else you are willing to pay them for.  Caution, they are not well bumpered and we have the deep scratches on our blue hull to prove it.  Throw your bumpers out, they will visit, invited or not.  They are very pleasant though, we used Mr. Fabulous and he is proud to be named in the cruising guides and introduces himself as a local celebrity.  We bought T-shirts, but most are the ones you can find ashore but still at competitive prices, and there are some that feature the work of local artists.

We also stopped at Mayreau, and Canouan, and did a close cruise by Mustique, but because time was short, opted not to stop and pay the high fees just to be able to go ashore for a few hours.  It’s pretty, but doesn’t seem to have that much to offer the cruiser; land tourism is probably great if you are willing to pay the prices to stay there.

The jewel for us is Bequia.  It is a charming island, we found the people to be quite nice, not overly friendly, but never rude.  Port Elizabeth is where we spent most of our time and think it best. There are many restaurants, shops, markets, etc. to enjoy.  There are nice long roads for long walks, a huge bay in which to anchor, a HotHotHot internet connection, laundry and fresh water service from Daffodil, and ferry service to St. Vincent and other islands, including Mustique if you want to visit some of the Grenadine islands that way.

We did most of our Christmas shopping here.  Bequians are great boat builders, from full size schooners and sloops, “two bow” fishing boats to collectable small replicas.  Ade looked at all of the “model” boats, (but not models at all, each one is hand crafted) and settled on a traditional grey hulled gaff rigged fishing boat which he proudly has added to his assortment.

We took the ferry to St. Vincent as reports of violence against cruisers persist.  It apparently is mainly in the otherwise perfect anchorages on the northwest coast where a few boaters have been brutally murdered over the past few years.  Police say it is a deranged individual, but on a small island where everyone knows everyone else, and their business, we think if they wanted him (or them) caught, it would have happened.  There are those in tourism who realize that cruisers represent money for the local economy.  They say there is talk of a coast guard station strategically located in Chateaubelair or Cumberland which should help cruisers feel more comfortable.  No way was I going to stop there on Wandering Star, big Chicken of the Sea that I am.

We had a great day though; we took the first ferry over and the last one back.  We were met by a young driver from Hazeco Tours and he took us everywhere along the west coast.  We were joined by his wife and her young brother that they are raising, and two Canadian Travel Agents that were great company.  We even went by the Hazel’s home where Millie had prepared and packed lunches for us all.  The island is quite mountainous and drops directly to the sea, so that the coastal road goes all the way up and all the way down into each little bay.  The roads are mostly paved, but narrow and high, there is no shoulder or gradual segue from road to roadside, and it drops right off, as much as a foot in some places, so staying on the road is a must, not an option.  Driving would be exhausting and we are so happy we chose a competent driver so we could just enjoy the sights.  We stopped at the melodiously named, Wallilabou, where Pirates of the Caribbean II and III were filmed.  The film used what was there and added a few building facades that still stand, there are cast and crew shots from the several months they were filming, but not much else.   It would be still be a lovely spot to just sit on your boat and enjoy the beauty.  This is just one of the stunning bays along this coast.  We are truly sorry we did not feel safe enough to spend a week cruising this lovely coast.

Next it is onto the last of the Windward Islands, St Lucia, and Christmas with the kids.

December 2008:  Land Ho!  Grenada at Last! 

The sun was just rising and we beheld a beautiful sight - mountains.  “Land Ho” Ade shouted, and there she was, the large and lovely island of Grenada.  We entered St Georges Harbor, scooted in the well buoyed channel, hoping to find that anchoring was still possible in the lagoon.  We knew that the Port Louis Marina development would eventually take it over as they had somehow wrangled a way to buy it all.  Junior, Port Louis’ dock master hopped in his runabout and ran out to Voyager and made us both a deal we couldn’t refuse- a bargain priced opportunity to tie up alongside the sparsely populated brand new docks and just in perfect time to get ready for a Thanksgiving celebration.  Junior is a hard man to say no to.  He is powerfully built with yards of long braids (not dreads) extremely clean cut, and with a killer smile.  Before we knew it we were all aboard V planning a week’s worth of activities with various relatives of his and enjoying celebratory champagne as we had finally stopped going east and were now ready for our northward journey up the Caribbean chain of islands, which we assume will  be a bit easier going!

St Georges, Grenada is just fantastic to see, colorful 19^th century buildings, forts and churches built up steep and lush green hills that look out across the sea and down on the beautiful harbor.  The Carenage is the other lobe of the harbor and is lined with all sorts of commercial boats, small cargo ships that unload right onto the cobblestone streets, fishing boats and small brightly painted skiffs.  No matter what time of day I was out and about, I would see crowds of beautiful school-aged children dressed smartly in their uniforms quickly walking, talking and laughing on their way to or from classes or lunch.  They speak the Queens English here, quite easy to understand and communicate with - but quite impossible to understand when they are talking to each other… and everyone says “Ya Mon” (yes) and “Irie” (kind of life is good),  “lime, mon” (chill out dude) and the easy to understand, “every tin’s gonna be awl-rite”.

On a perfect early morning walk with camera in hand,  I saw that, on closer inspection, many of the buildings were in ruin, and most I learned, from Hurricane Ivan who came ashore unexpectedly in September 2004.  Ninety percent of the homes on the island were damaged and the islands vegetation devastated.  Many islanders live on a subsistence level, which until that point had been a veritable Garden of Eden; fruits and vegetables, spices, fish all in abundance provided food for the people and for export.  Four years later, much of the landscape has recovered, and most individual homes have been repaired, but few of the churches and buildings.  I think they want to do more of a restoration, which eliminates the possibility of quick demolition.  Some of these buildings had also been damaged during the American rescue mission of 1985.  I will not call it an invasion and most Grenadians still thank us for our help getting rid of  Maurice Bishop’s Cuban Communist friends, who were taking over all branches of the government, and threatening to turn it into another Cuba, which is not at all what the majority of the islanders wanted.

Provisioning is fantastic as there is Food Fair/Foodland and other good Supermarkets along the waterfront (Lagoon Rd) and also in the “suburban” Spiceland Mall area and the resort areas towards Grande Anse.  (which I of course remember as Grand Arse, as in mine). Crazy inexpensive van/busses ($1.50EC) make getting around from St. Georges and the anchorages very easy.  The money is also quite easy as they use the EC, or Eastern Caribbean dollar, fixed at $2.67 to the USD, and this currency is good in almost every island country (except the French islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe who use the Euro) all the way to Anguilla.  ATM’s are everywhere.  The marina will take your laundry even if you are anchored out.  The small marinas in the southern anchorages around popular Prickly Bay also have laundry facilities, but it’s more hit or miss, i.e., maybe it’s working or maybe “not working so good today”.

Grenada has some wonderful restaurants, but downtown St George’s was pretty limited the week we were there, more often than not, they were closed or empty when we wanted to go and with provisioning so easy, we found that our best meals were on board.  Do try BB’s Crabback on the waterfront for said crabback or other fresh catch, it’s quite good, he has a quirky dinghy dock, but if you keep your eye on your dink you can keep from it ramming underneath the restaurant, its fine.

This Thanksgiving was truly a feast and we all had so much to be grateful for.  We started the day off with a brunch onboard WS, and Les & Rose hosted the turkey and trimmings meal that early evening.  What fun to be able to make traditional dishes with a Caribbean twist…we’d been hording for weeks, not knowing that we could buy anything we wanted once we got to Grenada… Rose had a turkey from Panama she’d been saving and dealing with in her freezer all this time.  Dottie had Pumpkin bread for everyone and her famous cranberry chutney; I managed to find a leek so I could make my Pumpkin soup according to my recipe and not have to improvise.   Boney, Junior’s uncle, and former policeman, took us on a great island tour that ran from the SW to the NE, and introduced us to the plethora of plant life on Grenada.  We toured River Rum Distillery, the Grenada Chocolate Company, parks and beautiful waterfalls, made pals with Lover Bay, his “pet” monkey, ate lunch at a delightful “locals” restaurant near Grenville and he still got us back safe and sound (not easy on those roads with aggressive bus/taxi drivers) by sunset.

We left a day ahead of the others as we had canvas work done and need to get around the “corner” of Pt. Saline, for installation.  While there were only a few other cruising boats in St. Georges, there are dozens and dozen’s in the Prickly Bay/True Blue area.  We dropped the hook and took a nice long walk around to familiarize ourselves with the area, have a drink at the well advertised Dodgy Dock, and check out the True Blue Marina.  It’s nice, but didn’t really have the “vibe” we were looking for, funny some places feel like home and others just don’t click.   We saw that Musetta was indeed tucked in safe and sound there, for them it must have felt like heaven.  We met

Stephanie and Jeff in Cartagena and they have had nothing but trouble since they left that secure port.  Made our troubles seem small indeed.  They have decided to stay put for awhile - no wonder!

While Prickly Bay is nice, we opted to move over to the popular Hog Island/Calvigny Island area.  We found a great spot near Clarks Cove, and Whisper Cove - easy dink ride to both and free internet to boot!  The new Le Phare Bleu Marina and Resort complex is where Dave & Jane have their canvas shop.  While there we realized that the gourmet restaurant housed in the old lighthouse ship, Vastra Banken, had opened the previous week.   We made dinner reservations for the next day - and it was one of the best meals we’ve ever had.  Chef Mark Bankthorpe, of the cookbook “Tastes of Spice” has created a fantastic menu, and wonderful atmosphere.  Magnifique!

Sublime evenings like that are followed by a humbling 5-hour for one load of laundry ordeal.  I went ashore to the French hippie run Whisper Cove to do a quick load of laundry as I’d been told the dryer at Clarke’s was kaput.  There is one washing machine, one dryer and it sits outside next to the bar/restaurant/reception/patio/everything area. This machine had a mind of its own and was a bit of a nightmare as it accepted my wash, started off fine, but washed for over three hours and wouldn’t let me open it up to retrieve my now tired, soapy and heavy with water items.  There was no sink to rinse them out, so I’d be stuck with a mess anyway.   So I stayed, kept ordering waters, doing emails and tried to act nonchalant as a couple argued non-stop in rapid French using frenzied hand gestures just next to me, and then realized that I was absent-mindedly scratching my legs, not paying attention to the fact that I was being eaten alive.  Argg.  A radio call to Ade brought bug spray and company for what looked like was going to be an overnight ordeal.  Thankfully, the dryer was much faster, only 2 hours to complete its cycle.  Ah the glamour of the Yaaachting life!  If it were fresh water we were floating in, a rock on the shoreline would have been much faster and better.

There’s a great cruising community in Grenada and it can be quite social.  We were able to get out to Clarks Court for their Burger and a Movie Night, and over to Woburn for the Lasagna Thursday nights and socialize with fantastic people who have spent years cruising these waters.  I can see spending a nice winter here, Grenada has it all for the cruiser, including a community.

Grenada and Carriacou (locals pronounce it Carrie-cou) and Petite Martinique make up the nation of Grenada.  We passed by Petite Martinique, but did not stop, preferring Tyrrel Bay on Carriacou and were delighted with it.  Very friendly people enjoying gearing up for the Christmas holidays.  We walked everywhere, picked up a local girl, I should say, she picked us up and proceeded to identify every leaf and plant as well as the local inhabitants, who she would greet with big kisses and hugs.  No one walks she told us, so it was a very big deal, and actually a very long walk, to have her escort us from the anchorage to the town of Hillsborough for marketing.   Town consists of several streets of markets, shops with just about everything, churches and bars.  Back in Tyrrel Bay, we decided on an evening ashore and  enjoyed Lobster Pizza for dinner, and the music of an almost all girl steel drum band playing Christmas carols.  It’s not just the music that is so great, it is watching the locals dance and sing and play along.  All ages, all sizes, all manners of sobriety (probably stoned is more like it) just hanging out on the dirt road that separates the outdoor establishment and the beach.  Some come inside for a drink, but often the real party is on the road.  Dogs, cats, chickens, lizards and mossies complete the assemblage.   Nice kick off to the holiday season.  Two very tall Nordic looking Canadian Peace Corp workers edged two local girls off their drum sets and played a few sets - they must have been here for a long time as they were GOOD.

It was all good.  We really feel a connection with Grenada and its people.  If there is a way, I imagine this is a place where we could spend a season…or two.

November 2008The ABC’S - A little like the Three Bears

How is it possible that we keep finding places we like so much, each one seems a little better than the last.  These islands are amazing; especially for the rocky little desert islands that they are…sitting where they do, just north of Venezuela in the Caribbean Sea.  It’s not that easy to get here mind you, especially going the way we went, that is East INTO the trades.  And these days Venezuela is not a safe place to stop, so your track really is from Cartagena to Aruba, bibbity bobbity boo through the ABC’s, and then another long run from Bonaire to Grenada.  Needless to say, after our harrowing passages, we were deliriously happy to get to Aruba… although she is only 19 miles long, and 6 miles across, she is a jewel and our refuge.  And a new country for me…#93.   The only new one since Ecuador in 2005.  I need 100 to become a member of the Century Travelers Club - hopefully in ‘09.

I guess the only negative about Aruba is the checking in process.  We arrived to see two cruise ships in port and to a disconcerted port authority individual who told us via radio that it would be okay to go directly to the marina and then taxi over to check-in, which is not the way the cruising guide said it went in Aruba.   And once secured in our slip at the Renaissance Marina, the hard working and resourceful Dock mistress “XJ” told us she’d better check to make sure this was really okay, as the Aruban authorities do not want anyone ashore who has not first gone to Customs and Immigration.  XJ contacted the Port Captain and learned that we in reality would have to leave Oranjestad and head back to the commercial port of Barcadera to check in there.

Darn, but okay… still happy to be in the lee of anything, we head out and find the deserted looking port with an inhospitable wharf and offshore winds at +20k and insufficient power to get alongside long enough for me to jump off and tie-up to something, anything ashore…two attempts and we circled back around to see if we could find another spot to tie-up.  Voyager said they would try as their side thrusters are more powerful than ours, and gratefully there were now a few scruffy looking sailors off a cargo ship ashore to flake out their hoses, so they were able to take their lines and secure them to miscellaneous junk bolted down.  So, once they were secured, we side tied to them, and then hopped ashore to accept Dreamweaver’s lines.  The women stayed on our respective boats while the men were taken away in a little car with the paperwork that would allow us to stay in country.  It’s an inefficient system that has many yachties that are not staying in a marina deciding not to check in or out at all.  Not an option for us as with my Catholic guilt, we were sure to be discovered and thrown into an Aruban prison.

Okay, so now we are really ready to relax after our five day run from Cartagena, including our engine failure, and so we pick up the renowned Balashi Beer (Tim Lloyd tip) and head to Voyager for a victory dance…and dance we did, and sing, none of it particularly well, but we thought we were wonderful!

We stayed in Aruba for a week and walked for miles and miles, enjoying every step in the near perfect weather, finding all manner of hardware and grocery stores…actually fabulous supermarkets, with the IGA a real standout!  The islands have a more diverse population than we’ve experienced anywhere on this voyage.  A blend of European, Indian, African and Latin people, most speak English, although Dutch, and a local language, unique to the Netherland Antilles, Papiamento, are the official languages.  They call Aruba, One Happy Little Island, and even though the people are not as overtly friendly as the “B and C” islands, they are good people, and we felt comfortable everywhere.

It was one of those harbors you could get “stuck” in as you quickly make yourself at home.  I found a hairdresser, a jeweler to make these coin charms I’d been imagining, a great spa for a much needed massage, computer experts, and doctors for a variety of maladies.  And restaurants!  The resort hotels and highly advertised restaurants are several miles from Oranjestad, but we wanted to walk so we chose from the myriad of other little, non-chain places in town.  One night, a ‘Date Night’, we were out on our own and we discovered “Cuba’s Cookin’ “- it’s in an old farm house in the heart of town with lively eccentric Latin art on the walls, a charming staff, great food, and interesting fellow diners.  A Cuban couple were playing guitar and drums and singing old 1950’s songs in Spanish.  Guests would take turns helping out on the bongo’s, and Placa (I think that was her name) interacted with everyone, making us dance and laugh like we were all regulars and they were happy we were there.

We also found a place popular with the locals “QuePasa?” and it was also really great - interesting Dutch waiter there on an internship, and the food was I guess, Mexican/Aruban fusion with a European touch.  The “Paddock” right down from the marina was also great for happy hour.   With dinners on each other’s boats, and long days sightseeing there wasn’t enough time, or calorie capacity to try all those that looked enticing, so we’ll just have to go back.  One thing we didn’t get to do as a group that we’d wanted to do, was go dancing to some good old rock ‘n roll.

So, for our final night we enjoyed the company of Susan and “T” (Phantom), and then set out for, I am embarrassed to say, good old gringo touristy Senor Frogs!  Hey, you can ALWAYS dance at a Senor Frogs even at a sedate 9PM.  So we did.  It was fun as usual and this time, my gentle sister Dottie, calmly agreed to try the crazy water slide….I do not know what she was thinking…or if she was (she really doesn’t drink that much and she had only sipped on a fun rum-type drink all night).   But she gamely followed a girl, who had the good sense to be wearing a bathing suit, up the stairs over the bar and onto a long waterslide that traversed the restaurant.  She took off her shoes, hiked up her dress mid-thigh and climbed in and took off.  The look on her face as she came careening to a stop on the balcony showed that somewhere on her wild ride, she’d had second thoughts.  But did we laugh, it was priceless.  So, what do you do with a wet girl at a restaurant?  Find her a tablecloth to wear, tissues for mascara and help her finger comb her hair.  Typically, the other patrons didn’t bat an eye.  And I thought I was the wild one, turns out she is our daring Mother’s daughter!

We say goodbye (for now) to Aruba with her stellar resorts, restaurants and facilities.  I guess this one I would call Mama Bear, she’s all glossy and shiny, the locals a little cool, and you could get soft sitting in the marina, (beds, porridge…stay with me on this okay?)

Another overnight passage to Curacao, a rocky one at that, but perfectly timed for an early morning arrival so we were able to navigate the narrow entrance to Spanish (aka Spaanse) Water and anchor just outside the Seru Boca marina while waiting for the staff to arrive and give us our slip assignments.  It’s a lovely new marina in the Santa Barbara development which will soon include more high end homes and a deluxe Hyatt Resort.  We were tucked way in and while secure, it also meant that it was quite still and hot, and had the unwelcome presence of mosquitoes.  We didn’t use the A/C much as we had to have the generator on to run it.  They run on 120V and 50 cycle electricity and it causes our 60 cycle units to overheat…not that I understand that, but know it to be true as we quickly burned out a portable fan. We found our screens and opened all windows and doors. Dug out citronella candles to burn all day and covered ourselves in bug repellant.   I mention this because we’ve been in the “tropics” for over a year now and this is one of the first places where it’s been a real problem, pretty lucky aren’t we?

We are quite a ways from Willemstad, and the car rental we’d organized didn’t materialize, so we had the marina drop us at the gate (5 miles away) and catch a local bus to town.  We find the Customs building and dutifully check in, then hop the ferry across to Otrobanda to find Immigration and the Port Captain for an anchoring permit for Dreamweaver.  And then went on a nice walk about thru town with stops at ATM’s, a courtyard pub and fantastic cheese shop, a farmers market along the quay and a great spot, Le Bistro, for yummy local fare in another tree canopied courtyard.

Over the next several days we did it all.  We spent a day in the water.  There is a great guide for snorkelers and divers, and we discovered several of the best spots were just outside the harbor.  We found a spectacular wall with abundant sea life and the “Tugboat” spot and dove the shallow wreck; there is an underwater gallery that was obviously different and beyond anything we’d seen before, it was great treat for all of us to be in the warm clear blue water together.

We were finally able to set up a van rental and took off for our Circle Island drive; we made a figure eight as always and went lighthouse to lighthouse and from mini peak to mini peak to take in the views.  Old Plantation Houses are scattered over the landscape and one we stopped at was an old Salt Plantation that now houses a Nena Sanchez gallery.  Everything is brightly painted and a joy to visit.  We found Ft Nassau, the old fort/restaurant that Ade and I hiked up to waaay back in 1980 when we took a small cruise ship from Florida to California via the Canal.

We did dinghy tours of the Harbor, visited the Curacao Yacht Club for lunch, and had happy hour and dinners on board.  Met nice people, in fact, I took a series of photos cruising around the marina as they represented boats from around the world…this is truly an international spot with as many boats from Europe and the So. Pacific as from North/South American.  Mel & Jackie on “Feisty” gave us lots of information about Bonaire; they are from New York and also love trying all the local restaurants, so we listened carefully.

The Curacao Regatta was on, so on Saturday night we went back to Willemstad to see the lighted boat parade from Scharloo and mingle with the sailors.  We then meandered the colorful waterfront of Punda listening to the various performers and laughter from the waterside diners, and found a row of wonderful restaurants behind the Government Palace and enjoyed an under the stars dinner at “Scampi’s”.   We’d been advised to hire a taxi for the night as it is difficult to find anyone to take you all the way back to Seru Boca on a Saturday night, so we had a curfew and had to rush dinner a bit, like Latin America, the service is good but slow and you have to beg for the bill.

So Curacao, spread out as she is, could be Papa Bear, a little too big and hard to get around, although with a perfect anchorage and the charm of Willemstad, yet just a little too far to be convenient, still not a perfect fit…so we move on…

It is an easy hop to Bonaire and we were lucky as Dottie and Ken, who left well before we did, had scoped out spots for us and were there to take our lines and thread them thru the tiny eye hook of the mooring ball, so in no time we are secured, betwixt the reef wall and the beguiling town of Kralendijk.  What a life.  “Ketching Up” and “Spirit” were moored nearby; we’d not seen them since Panama.

Knowing that a weather window was looming, we realized we’d have to hit the ground running if we were going to get to Feisty’s entire “Don’t Miss This” list.  We did the paperwork Cha-cha (we had to turn in Ade’s spear gun to Customs for the duration) and were still ready to make it out to the Happy Hour at the Harbor Village Marina to mingle with other cruisers.  Next item on our agenda was pizza at Pasa Bon.  It was packed, mostly locals and the wait over an hour, but as Jackie said it was the World’s Best Pizza, we waited.  It was well worth the wait, incredible Pizza!

The next don’t miss spot is only open on weekends, and we were told to go as soon as it opened, so on Friday we tried the hole in the wall “Bobbejan’s” and wow, another home run.  For less than $20 per couple we had a fantastic dinner of ribs and BBQ and a few local beers.  A note of gratitude here for all the tips cruisers pass onto each other, not just about frivolous things like FOOD and FUN, but all the tips on customs, anchorages, parts and service, fuel, etc. etc.  It’s a wonderful sharing caring community.

And diving tips too… I’d sort of given up scuba and had only snorkeled for many years.  But this is Bonaire with world class diving and if not now, when?  Feisty said if I wanted a refresher course for diving I should contact Bruce at Carib Inn - he was the best.  We couldn’t find him…only the big glossy operations and I’d checked them out but didn’t feel comfortable with any of them.  I knew I needed someone special to ease me back into it or I’d suck a tank dry in 10 minutes with anxiety.  We found it way beyond the Cruise Ship docks and beyond the big Divi Divi dive resorts.  The little Carib Inn, is home of the first dive instructor (Bruce Bowker) on Bonaire and a wonderful operation and inn for the serious divers who don’t want all the fuss. I am so happy to have persevered, as I said it’d been about 15 years since I did a proper dive and I really wanted to find that confidence again.  Bruce had a gal booked to complete her certification with a beach dive and said I could join that for a refresher course…it was only $45 including gear…wow, I took it.  I lucked out and found my own Dr Phil of the Seas…I spent the whole day with Gary and the yet to be certified Pam and the elusive man from Poland who also wanted a refresher course.  We did the AM beach dive and I was so excited, yet still not feeling 100%, that I told Ade, I want the PM boat dive.  What a blast.  It all came back and I feel great now and ready to take on the Caribbean.  Thank you Carib Inn.

We rented a van and did our Circle Island Drive and found that we LOVE this island.  Rincon in the center is the site of the first Spanish settlement; we stopped at the Rose Inn for lunch with a real local flavor.  The island has dive sights, suitable for beach or boat dive literally from north to sound on the west (lee) of the island.  There is also a lagoon on the east side that is a windsurfer haven with funky beach shacks and ‘resorts’, restaurants/bars, it felt more like a lake resort than a beach, and guess what, it’s called the Lac!  And somehow, during the all day drive we’d circled back to Kralendijk and decided to stop at the Bonaire Gift Shop(s) near the marina…what a bonanza.  We found the swim trunks Les had been looking for, Dive T- Shirts, and oh yeah, wine.  Deepak the owner loves wine and carries quite an assortment from around the world.  There were several of our favorite Californian wines…Deepak loves Napa and Lodi wines…and since today was Saturday he was hosting a wine tasting.  He opened several bottles for us and offered 10% discounts on cases…so, needless to say, we are now well stocked for our holiday guests due to arrive in a few weeks.

Unfortunately the weather was not great for our last few days and the diving no good (squalls, lots of wind, low visibility), and checks on the weather showed that we had just a few windows to make that last long hop to Grenada via the Venezuelan islands.  Darn it, time to go.

So Bonaire, if you are following the story line, is Baby Bear… just right.  Great anchorage, great town, great diving, great everything… this is where we could fall asleep and dream happily until forced to wake up and move on!

Summer 2008

Hot Time, Summer in the Cities

We had a great summer!  It was our vacation from our vacation lifestyle.  We were home for six weeks in June/July, then back to Panama for mid July/August to do some maintenance and sightseeing, and finally back home again from mid August to late September.  It was fantastic, the contrast of it all, the reconnection with family and friends, being able to spread out a little, and of course the amazing array of things that are at your fingertips when in the USA.  It sure is an instant gratification culture isn’t it? …and Wal-Mart really does have everything and is ALWAYS open, I would walk to the one near us in LV and just wander and wonder at the incredible range of stuff.  Wierd fact, I keep a step counter on and learned that if I walk up and down each isle, it is a MILE inside that store!!!  No kidding.

It’s so easy to fly in and out of Las Vegas; we grab a cab and in minutes are sitting in our cute little house.  Buying a small house in a gated community with yard care is a wonderful thing…you’d never know we left… and there is practically no maintenance.  Now Big Bear on the other hand is almost as much trouble as a boat…thank goodness Heather & Ted are such wonderful tenants and caretakers, they already had the house repainting well in hand.  We hit the ground running as always.  Ade had to help them de-winterize the yard and the old boats, as they were hosting the BBLYC Waterman’s Party at the cabin that first weekend.  It was also Ted’s birthday which made it extra special.  Love that party, it’s into the water with crazy races and games and everyone participates.  Kei came up with his girlfriend Jenn and they plunged right into the festivities.

We visited both of our Mothers and they are doing well.  Helen in Ventura with the girls close by, and my Mom between BB and Dick’s place in Palos Verdes.  They are both in wonderful health, and so much fun to be with, we sure know where we got our energy and lucky genes.

Five Big Bear couples that we know of were out cruising from Mexico to Panama and we’d met all but one pair as they were a few weeks ahead of us.  So we had a Cruisers Reunion at the cabin when we realized that all of us would be “home” for a week in July.  It was a blast.  Loren and Patty joined in as they have a 53′ SeaHorse in Thailand, and Loren crewed with us all (DW) thru the Canal in June.  As with all boaters, everyone’s course was slightly different, but there were many shared favorite anchorages and towns, people and places.  We enjoyed each other’s photos and I quickly determined that my photography needs a lot of work - there were magnificent shots and we all oozed and ached and wished we were back down there to see it anew.  We hope to get together each summer and compare notes on what to do and see next.

We played hard and managed to squeeze in BBQ’s, parties, Las Vegas shows, time on the lake, 4^th of July activities, long walks and bike rides, and before we knew it, we were back in Panama.

We had to haul WS and get her bottom painted, etc., It was kind of strange coming back to Colon and Shelter Bay, most of the boats and people we knew were gone, but there were a few of the lingerers, as we called them, who were arriving one by one.  We saw MV Jenny, Tropical Dance, Wahoo, Yachtsman’s Dream, but never at the same time, everyone was on their own schedule and slipped quietly in and out. We rented a car at the airport in PC and kept it the entire time.  Shelter Bay is on a military base (the former USA’s Fort Sherman) and one has to cross over the Gatun locks on a wee little bridge between ships.  Sometimes you lucked out and drove right through, but usually it involved a wait of up to an hour.  We kept books and puzzles in the car to help us develop grace and patience.  I was training for the Big Bear Marathon (well half of one for me), so I’d often gague the time and get out and log a mile or so instead of waiting.

This is also the wet season, or as the Panama Tourist Authority now refers to it as the “Green Season” It is GREEN, we knew we were in the jungle before we left, but it was unbelievable how fast everything grew.  When it rains it pours.  No, not just pours, it comes down like a waterfall and usually has accompanying thunder and (shutter) lightening.  We split the summer hiatus in two parts so we could be available to open her up and find leaks and mold before it took over.  There were a few casualties darn it.

We took a little time to do some traditional sightseeing with a group of travel people, an impressive visit out to see the Embera Indians in their riverside village in a dugout canoe.  Anne Gordon married an Embera she met while working on a film (she is an animal trainer) and now, in addition to her film work, runs small groups to her husband’s family village.  We enjoyed it immensely, it is still very primitive, with traditional dress (or undress actually) arts, food preparation and dancing.  We also flew to David, Panama and rented a car and drove up to Boquete as it is such a popular destination for travelers and retirees.  It was beautiful, as is the entire highlands region.  We stayed at the very un-Panamanian and luxurious riverside Valle Escondido, took long hot showers, played tourist, ate at various (and good) restaurants, took the car rental everywhere and really felt like we got to know the area.

And then, all of a sudden we were back in the USA again, this time mostly for business, meetings in Las Vegas and HQ, quick family reunion with Helen and the girls and families, visits with Casey and Dick and the kids, and, as I mentioned, the first annual Big Bear Marathon…the kids were very involved in it and I walked my first Half-Marathon with dear friends Laura and Patty.  It was a blast, but not that easy.  I trained as much as is possible between the jungles of Panama and the grueling heat of Las Vegas…Big Bear’s weather for race day was perfect though!  Ade, Ken and John rode their bikes in that class the entire 26 miles.  We all felt so virtuous.

When we returned to Panama in September it was such fun, we came back with Dot and Ken, Les and Rose were already here and hauled out.  We had a “Trawler Trash” class reunion, were issued new uniforms and laid out the plans for semester 08 09.

Unfortunately, leaks continued in our absence and my boxes of collateral materials of our travels, along with my big dictionary, atlas, etc, were moldy and ruined… it was heart breaking.  I finally tossed them, thinking that I would just start over with my travel articles.

So it’s onto the much-loved San Blas Islands with the colorfully attired natives, their incredible crafts, especially molas, and their tranquil islands on azure seas.

HOLY MOLEY - OUR ENGINE QUIT!

This is a version of the email I sent out to friends as an addendum to Ade’s log about our eastward journey from Cartagena, Columbia to Aruba… I’ve cleaned it up a bit here for you that are seeing it for the first time.

The engine just stopped. We were cruising along a few hours into this treacherous leg, the one around Rio Magdalena, and all of a sudden, the engine just sputtered for a second and stopped.  We would get it going and our hearts would leap and then, sputter-sputter-stop, and as it would stop, so would my heart.  Oh crap, here we are in the middle of one of worst stretches of oceans in the world with no engine, no sail, no Tow Boats USA, no US Coast Guard.  Thank goodness we were traveling with our buddies on Voyager.  Not only did they loan moral support just out there circling, but Les has been on every size Selene, talked to almost every owner, and has experienced just about every mechanical issue at one time or another and is familiar with our boat and engine, so he was giving us many steps to try.  It was a day of 5-8 footers and there were many many at 8 foot or better and so close together, it was crazy choppy.  Poor WS was rolling rail to rail and these boats are not set up to heel like a sailboat, so things were flying, like microwaves, upturned plants with dirt everywhere, a few broken dishes in the mix, drawers flying open and contents spilling about.  Think earthquake with endless aftershocks… you just want it all to stop so you can think for Pete’s sake!!!  But it doesn’t.

I am on the handheld VHF talking to Les and he is giving us instructions on what to try and I am calling them down to Ade in the engine room and then back up to the pilothouse to try the engine again.   I know Ade can usually fix anything, so I kept thinking it would finally start up and keep going, but he was getting seasick in the hot engine room and I could tell by hour 2 or 3 that he was tired and things just weren’t working… Les and Rose had offered a tow …and they have a larger boat capable of towing us,  but we knew it would be dangerous to get the lines together and so held off as long as possible.

After three attempts, including one that landed Voyagers harness with 200 feet of line floating off a bumper-come completely off his boat and float away.  That took a man overboard drill on their part to retrieve and thankfully it was all still there, so they tried again, this time with Rose driving as close as she dare to us while Les heaved the bumper with a few hundred feet of light nylon line attached to the heavy tow line rig, it just missed, but hung up on our big Rocna anchor so Ade could scramble for it.  We are both on the foredeck, with life jackets, on our hands and knees to keep from falling over.  Once he got it on board he had to work quickly as now Voyager has to hover too close to keep the line loose enough for us to attach to the harness Ade made and rigged like our anchor bridle off the bow… so he quickly had to get it coordinated and out the two forward hawsers and over the anchor on the bow pulpit…no limbs (or fingers like I did on another voyage) near it as one big wave could take it all overboard (and us with it)

Once he got it over we heaved a huge sigh of relief as the two harnesses, the one on our bow, and the one on the stern of Voyager fell into place and the 100+ foot line is pulled taut… so taut that I was terribly fearful that it would snap.  We’ve had that happen when towing a dinghy in a gale with big seas in New Zealand.  I couldn’t look at it as I could not hold a positive vision while looking.  In my eyes, it was the hands of God tying us together and so I sat (there was no standing as even though we were now being towed, we still flipped and flopped from side to side in a most un-natural way) and scooted around trying to pick up pieces of this and that to clear a path thru the salon, I was about as holy as a fallen away Catholic girl could be.   But I really did feel a divine connection and was calm.  I actually am calm when things are really serious… semi serious or just annoying and I’m a drama queen, but in a fix, I’m your girl.  There is a grace that comes to you when you acknowledge your vulnerability, and I think that’s what happens to me… Let Go, Let God.  I knew there was nothing I could do to fix it.  You feel so useless knowing that frankly, you (well, me) can’t fix anything.  I think many women at sea feel that way.  I know the basics, where the fuel travels and thru the filters, etc., and where the hoses come in to keep the engine cool, but if you aren’t mechanical, the ideas of what to do don’t come to you…it’s all foreign. (Ladies, keep doing the routine engine checks just to stay familiar with where everything is just in case).

Our decision to travel together, not just for all the fun, but for safety, is a good one.  By the way, we are three boats, but Dot and Ken wanted to leave a day ahead of us as they are slower and knew we’d just be behind them and then connect for the final run into Aruba together - which we did.  There is something about having others out there with you that is unbelievably comforting, even if they can’t really help, but that they were genius like Les and Rose makes us so terribly grateful.  Rose, for the record, does know her way around her engine, and I think can fix most things…she’s a tiny, dainty and lovely girl, but as a farmer’s daughter and Dobbe-Wan’s wife, she is unbelievably capable.   We didn’t take any pictures, but Rose shot some video, so maybe Ade will post it on our site later this week.

So, there’s the first mates side of the story… phew.

We are sitting in Aruba now - got here yesterday afternoon and after five days at sea - no matter what this place looked like, we were going to LOVE IT.  It felt soooo good to get our shaky legs on terra firma again.  Turns out, it is really is quite cool, and what’s this I hear, people greeting us in ENGLISH, and Dutch and Spanish and some local dialect I can’t make out at all.  Really feels like we are in the Caribbean now, that’s why we are here to experience the different cultures, languages, food and beverages… and Aruba’s Balashi Beer is good!  We all gathered on Voyager after checking in for a quick toast to our survival (Les and Rose had their own adventure the last night out, but I don’t want to try to tell it, ask them…another nail biter-and Dottie and Ken had serious alternator issues) … well, one toast led to another, and you know… we girls ended up singing what is now our signature song “I Must Follow Him” with a few lyric changes, and the boys returned the favor with a memorable rendition of “My Girl”.   Apparently there is also footage of these performances and they are about as ugly as the turbulent seas!