AUGUST 2009

MAINE AT LAST -Glorious Maine

Oh my, I just love it.  Everything but the buoys, and even they, though annoying are beautiful.  Brightly painted, well maintained…and thousands of them.  We have dodged so many that Ade has become genius at it.  Me?  Well, it’s a bit of drama, and I avoid my watch as long as possible.    What really gets me is when I think there is a field of black and white ones, and as I begin to navigate my way through – they fly away!  I can hear them laughing as they fly off.    

Kennebunkport is our first port of call and she does not disappoint.  A charming little town, picturesque, touristy of course, but has a solid feel to it.  Maybe none of the normal touristy problems bother us when we arrive by boat. We get the best spot in town, that is for certain – and we don’t have to find parking.  Our mission here is to get Ted his first lobster dinner, the teenage dock hand, grandson of the owner says we’ve just have to go to Mabel’s!  We were tied to the dock at Chicks, just ¼ mile to down town, and two miles up the road from George and Barbara’s (Bush) little escape. 

Goodness, what a lovely spot, it’s out on Walker Point, named after his Great Granddad.  George the 1^st purchased it from the family many years ago, and the US government made sure it became a very secure compound for this ex-President.  Security is still tight - on my morning walk, I saw the three black suburban’s moving out in formation…I was told that means that George was in one of them.  You cannot approach the cove by sea; there is a protective barrier to prevent getting too close.  Secret Service routinely cruises into the harbor with top gun looking craft much like the DEA use. I was brushing my teeth in our head and just inches away one of these frankly menacing looking vessels with darkly clad warriors and weapons passed by my porthole - yikes. 

We had to get to Portland as the kids were taking the train back to Boston for a CE course in Physical Therapy/Assessment.  Portland is a great town, again, a real town – they have revitalized the Old Port into a place everyone wants to be, locals and tourists.  A liberal vibe here…pretty much everywhere in fact… with hippies, lobster and fishing types, Maine Matrons and lots of artists.  Not everyone is well heeled, nor is the city immune from the harsh economy… it’s easy to see signs of poverty, lots of people on the streets that probably live on them, or in the shelters, graffiti on the abandoned buildings, but I never felt unsafe and I walked for miles in all directions. 

There are several organic stores here, but I chose to walk a bit further to provision at one of our favorite grocers, one we haven’t seen for many a mile, a large Whole Foods Market…featuring local produce and fresh caught fish.  It spoils and delights me.  Our marina was at the very large DeMillo’s restaurant, we decided we’d be a good resident and give it a go for happy hour after the kids left.  It is actually very nice, much nicer inside than out so we decided stayed for dinner.   I very much enjoyed a thick swordfish steak, while Ade had yet another version of Cioppino, which was delicious.  We should be glowing at this point with all the seafood we’ve consumed – but it’s so fresh and with so many culinary geniuses in these seaside communities, it’s hard to resist.   

Boothbay, one of the ports I was most excited about seeing is as charming as I imagined.  The owners of little marina’s with limited space are determined to make every penny they can during their short season.  They run them on their own and are often a real hoot.  Judy was one, she crams us in wherever she can – and gets anyone on the dock to help.  We were squeezed between two large yachts and all of us on a few hundred feet of helter skelter dock space.  Once secured, it is filed away in our memory as fun…but getting into these tight spots with people on the dock yelling, “No problem, you have almost a foot back here” is not!  I’m thinking “a foot…Crikey Mate, we can’t do a three point turn in this baby”, but because Ade can almost maneuver WS that well and I am, after all, only a deck hand in this procedure, I hush up and do my job.

 We walked every square inch of town and across the foot bridge to check out some galleries.  Great artwork, unique styles, varied mediums – just wish we had a place for some of it.  All we can collect are little pieces that fit on our tiny saloon walls.  Sadly, we really have no space at our land places either – no more lighthouses for me, I went nuts on our 2000 “Great circle trip” and have a room-and garage full of them.  I am just taking photographs for now, dreaming of doing something wildly artistic with them at the conclusion of our voyaging years.  Yeah, I also have cupboards chock full of other creative pursuits- mosaics, jewelry, rugs – when you have no talent, at some point you should own up to it.   I’m still thinking I will mature into it….hmm, might zip right past my window of opportunity.

From this well known harbor we set our course for little known Tenants Harbor.  We pick up a mooring, as anchoring is no longer possible here.  It is picturesque and quiet and we feel we are getting back into the cruising mode.  We like the contrast – time in active, bustling ports to quiet little anchorages like this.  This port, like so many others all have working lobster boats aplenty.  Everyone is a lobsterman in Maine.    

Camden Maine is truly the quintessential Maine seaside town.  It is as I thought it would be, built along hilly little streets that veer off at angles to follow the irregular coast line.  The harbor is full of old wooden schooners that carry passengers in and out for day sails, sunset cruises and multi-day trips.  There are no moorings per se, what they have are mooring floats.  They are little 30’ docks anchored in the harbor and they accommodate two boats.  Saves a lot of space, and is basically just a mooring, but one you can stretch your legs on…ideal for buddy boating.  Interesting neighbors come and go, the last was a nice family a classic 1937 Swedish ketch, perfectly restored with three teenage kids on summer holidays. 

We consulted charts; saw that although we’d like to see every little harbor along the Penobscot River, it wasn’t realistic time wise.  We rented an Enterprise car from nearby Rockland so we could see a few ports we knew we would not get to by sea.  We ran up to Belfast to see special places that a dear friend from Big Bear told us about, and hiked up the Mt. Battle monument that offers incredible views of Camden Harbor, even in the hazy sun and walked the quiet streets of nearby Rock Port.  I think we will do a motor home trip here someday and linger longer.

And now, back to the little anchorages for quiet time at Bucks and Bass Harbors.  We cruised by the Cranberry Islands and up Somes Sound, the only true fjord on the east coast.  It can’t be compared to the rugged beauty of fjords of British Columbia and Alaska, but is so lovely in its own right.  It’s been clear, and fog is often an issue in Maine summers, people joke that we were lucky to be in town during the only two weeks of summer.  We consulted dependable buoy weather about going north to Canada, along the bold coast, but see that the weather is changing fast.   We plan to spend as much time as possible in Acadia National Park, a 40,000 acre recreational area.  Most of it is actually on the oddly named Mount Desert Island, but it also includes Schoodic Peninsula, and surrounding islands.  It’s an ideal destination for boaters.  Not only are there many places to anchor or pick up a mooring, there are a few more developed places like NE Harbor, and across the Sound, its counterpart, SW Harbor.  Bruce and Joan Kessler keep their lovely Spirit of Zopolite there for the summer and we’re anxious to see them again.  They were the brains behind the Fubar and were with us all the way.  We’re like little kids showing them how far we’ve come. 

But…the seas are changing and we notice that on the day we planned to leave Mt Desert Isle and head over to Schoodic’s Winter Harbor, and then hopefully onto Eastport at the Canadian border – something big is brewing…whoa, a forecast of rain and wind, but it’s the sea height that is alarming – 12 to 15 feet, building to 20!  This sounds like the Perfect Storm.  We learned that Hurricane Bill was headed to the NE coast, specifically to the Maine/Nova Scotia border area.  Drat.  We had reservations for one night at NE Harbor and then for a few nights at SW Harbor.  Once in NE however, we were advised that it is the parks perfect hurricane hole, completely closed to the east, while SW is open to the east, the direction of the approaching high winds and wave action.  Hmm, “could we stay here, Pretty Please?”

They didn’t have a regular slip for us, but did allow us to stay until the seas subsided, tied to a large 73 foot, 98 ton steel ship “Sunbeam IV”  that is the medical and missionary ship that services coastal Maine during the winter.   With current tides of 12’ and Sunbeam tied to a fixed pier, we rode up and down with her, but had to climb over her to get off and on.  At high tide, it’s easy to just climb off our cockpit and onto her main deck- cross it and hop onto the dock.  As the tide starts its way back down there is a three step ladder on her deck that facilitates getting up onto dock.  As she continues to drop you have to climb onto her top deck to step off.  At MLW, there is a rusty old straight ladder attached to the pier and you then have to climb up or down it.  One night we had to maneuver 12 wet steps straight down, leap onto her top deck, back down her steps to her poop deck and back over the rails onto WS.  Exciting.  

A free shuttle bus system services Acadia National Park.  From NE Harbor we were able to get all over the island, to the forest and hiking trails, campgrounds, and even over to Bar Harbor a few times.  We checked out that harbor, which really offers little to visiting yachtsmen in terms of facilities and is not well protected from weather.  Better to choose one of the great marinas or anchorages, and use the bus.  Bar Harbor however is a charming town, well laid out with a central park- or “Village Green” and several streets of restaurants and shops running off it.  Many are the regular shops that here in Maine have variations on the theme, “Mainely Made”, or” Mainely Maine”, etc., buts lots of good outdoorsy shops with cool gear, and great art gallery’s – an artistic bunch these Northeasterners.  It is the most commercial and touristy so far as cruise ships do come into Bar Harbor and it is in the center of this beautiful and popular National Park.     

It’s still very foggy and misting, but so far the torrential rains have not manifested, so we are doing all we can in our exile.  This morning I participated in the Annual NE Harbor Ambulance Service fundraising “Road Race”.  It was just 5 miles and began at the head of the fjord and ran back into town.  It was great, nice people and a t-shirt to boot. 

I seem to have moved along the evolutionary trail while out on the road to fitness.  It starts out in your ripe younger years with catcalls, moves onto “hey lookin’ good”, then middle age I got, “good job” as I trotted by, but today I hit it – the meaningful, “Good for You” greeting – oh great!  “Good for You”, as in, nice to see you still trying to get around you old fart…  Never mind, I tell myself, they meant well, and I’m doing great.   I kept right on sashaying my way to town, being passed by young Adonis and leggy gazelles, but then, I was passed by an ancient woman, honestly, she was 80 if she was a day with bright bottle red hair and a shaky, but speedy gait.   “Good for you”, I yelled to her disappearing back! 

Hurricane Bill put an end to push northward, but we did move over to Southwest Harbor before we reversed course, and for the first time since mid 2008, we were going SOUTH.  We had only one night at Kennebunkport, so we decided to meet long lost cousins Kathy and David from Massachusetts.  She is the Heil family historian and brought lots of pictures and family stories, it was such a fun time with them.  We went sightseeing to some of their favorite Maine seaside towns so we had more than just our narrow view of our chosen harbor and environs.  We especially liked York, and their usual getaway, the little town of Wells.  We were back in Kennebunkport for dinner at Grisini’s - which was very good, but don’t order the cannoli for dessert unless they’ve fired the pastry chef J. 

It’s a wonderful feeling, reaching a goal and yet always melancholy, like finishing a great book.  It’s a time to reflect on not only the voyage, but on what is important to you, what you love.  We love adventure, new places, new people to talk to AND the old and familiar places and faces.  So, for us, this is not the end of boating, we will now come up with a new list of places to see by sea.   Starting with the ones we skipped on the way north, it’s such a beautiful continent, and so much fun on a boat! 

July 2009

Historic New England – Block Island to New Hampshire.

After we left Mystic we had a disappointing night at Block Island, wind howling, overcrowded anchorage and no desire to jump into the foaming water with dink and go ashore.  Thought it might settle down for an evening stroll but that didn’t happen, and in the AM we were fogged in – so adios for now Block Island – maybe next time.  We turned on the radar and made our way out of there and towards another, hopefully, more hospitable anchorage. 

As the fog and our spirits lifted, we set our course for Woods Hole, if we could find a place to tie up or drop the hook in town.  We knew that it was iffy, but we called the Woods Hole Marina and with luck, Ade spoke to Buzz, the owner, who somehow asked where we were coming from…Ade said, “Alaska” and he said c’mon in we’ll find a spot!  And he did.  We waited for the impossibly small Eel Pond Drawbridge to open and gasped with delight at the tidy little pond we found inside, and marveled that we somehow fit into the odd shaped slip behind Shuckers.  Woods Hole is really a scientific community, but also a delightful little town with much to do.

 Once on land, we learned that the Woods Hole Film Festival was underway – serendipity.  We set out to discover this hamlet, walking the little meandering streets, and visiting the historic and marine museums.  We had a lovely dinner at the waterfront Pfusion Restaurant- enjoyed a delicious ginger salmon and a yummy Cioppino (a fish stew we favor) with kefir lime sake sauce.  We walked across the street to the firehouse for one of the Film Festival movies.  We saw “American Casino”, a disturbing film about the recent meltdown of our economy, the filmmakers sat next to us and it seemed they were seeing it again for the first time.  Scary, and a little one sided – all the blame was placed on the businesses and conservatives with nary a glance at Congress.  A few audience members pointed that out to them, but they were steadfast in their point of view.  No matter where we place blame, and we believe there is much to be shared, it was a sobering film with many good points, and nicely made.  We did this all in about 20 hours and hated to leave – with time, I might have been able to decipher the information at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute…maybe! 

We left early, it was clear and the tide was in our favor for transiting the Cape Cod Canal, which we did in record time.  We toyed with the idea of heading to Hyannis port, but had been warned off visiting it or Martha’s Vineyard at this time of year – the crowds apparently make it rather undesirable.  We’ve been there by land, albeit, many years ago.  So historic Plymouth was our destination.  We picked up a Plymouth Yacht Club mooring with a view of the Mayflower – in fact, we were just behind her.  The weather was threatening, so rather than take the dink ashore, we hailed the YC tender and hitched a ride into town.  Its lovely club, very hospitable and of course well located.  We hiked around town, saw once again all the must see historic monuments, and of course, the ROCK, which is quite tiny now, so many people having chipped a piece off for themselves.  It is now housed in a cage and is about the size of a chair…ah well, like pieces of the cross eh? 

We decided to stay two days, explored a bit more, but mostly enjoyed being on the mooring and watching the tour boats come and go. One little tour boat does a pirate attack every hour - A “pirate” ship is hidden amongst the moored boats and as the sightseeing boat goes by, often laden with children, the pirates “attack” with water guns to the delight of the kids.  Its fun to watch…over and over…and over.  But who cannot be charmed by laughing, surprised kids?  Not me…gets me every time.  We did go ashore for dinner at “14 Union” a dinner house located at the Brewer Marina.  It was excellent, and we had a table overlooking…our boat! 

Weather looking okay, we decide to press on to Boston.  A few quick calls secured an early arrival for our reservations at the Constitution Marina on the Charlestown side of the harbor.  We’d tried to get an in town marina, but once we had a chance to look around, realized that Ade picked a winner.  It is by the USS Constitution, and on the familiar red lined Freedom Trail, that insured that we could always find our way home.  A busy marina with mostly locals, but a few cruisers sandwiched in here and there.  Summer is short in Boston, so most of the boats had the owners puttering about, going out onto the bay for sunset, or weekends away.  It was a lively place with lovely people, and great staff. 

Boston is so good, it’s beyond our expectations.  We love it. The thing that amazed me was that it is not that big.  It’s a little big city.  Everyone walks, and for those bits that are too long, the subway is handy.  Little Italy is just across the bridge from us and that neighborhood is fantastic…incredible restaurants and clubs and shops, not unlike the Gaslamp in old San Diego.  This is our kind of place.  It was hard to decide which delicious smelling restaurant we would try first.  

Ade and I actually did our own thing here – he biked dozens of miles each morning, while I was out on walking all over town.  He of course saw more, I never ventured up towards Harvard or Boston College– but I sure felt like I could find my way around downtown.  I also took a day to visit the Museum of Fine Arts, when Ade toured the USS Constitution and the battleship.  We stopped by “our local pub” the historic (and oldest in Boston) Warren Pub a few times, had an evening with the daughter of friends from BB, and had fantastic nights out in little Italy with the teeming sidewalks and cafes. 

Heather arrived at Boston Airport and we took the subway to meet her.  Ted stopped in Chicago to visit his folks and will join us in a few days.  We dragged her around as well, but it turns out, she knows this town better than we do.  I forgot they were here last year for a conference.  We tried dock master Howard’s favorite place. Massimino’s – we had to wait, but it was worth it.  Could stay here for weeks and take it all in.

It’s off the explore a bit more of New England, first was Salem, and impossible as it seems, it was too witchy for me – which is weird because I am so open to alternative thought, but these seem pretty  much geared to tourists, more like a carnival atmosphere from what I could see.  Felt no energy walking by any of them and I’m rather sensitive to that.  I would skip it the next time, even thought the town and people are nice and it has a good Farmers Market and marinas too.  Just not my thing. 

Next up was Gloucester –the real deal, no artifice.   It is a real waterman /fisherman /lobsterman town, despite being the locale made famous by the movie “A Perfect Storm”.  We took a mooring, dropped the dink to explore every cove and exotic looking ship, before heading out to see “town”.  It is not touristy at all, when we stopped into the bar featured in the movie, it was clear that they were not there to entertain us – it’s a fisherman’s bar with no frills, much like the ones we found in Alaska.  We ordered our beers, looked at the pictures on the wall, and then took our lookie-loo preppy selves out of there.     

Anxious to show Heather as much as possible, we moved the next day to darling Newburyport.  We are so lucky, we were able to tie right up to town dock for a pittance and found ourselves once again the center of attraction.  This is a fantastic town, touristy for sure, but a delight – good walks, facilities, fun shops – nice people, good restaurants.  We all liked it and will put it on our “be-back” list.  It is not often visited by cruising yachts probably due to the shallow bar one has to cross to enter the harbor…careful planning, high tide, and calls to the local harbor master can insure a safe passage in and out.

Ted is due to arrive by bus from Boston, and Portsmouth NH is the closest port to the terminal.  We considered docking downtown, but were unable to get a good feel about it from the guides, so we chose the pricey Wentworth by the Sea marina and resort, knowing that we could get in and out in a timely fashion and that they had a courtesy car.  We were able to re-provision at a wonderful market, and then pick up Ted.  The marina is further out than we like, we so enjoy being right downtown in most ports.  But, after checking out the downtown option, realized that again, we’d been guided by the Gods to a better spot. 

We wanted to like Portsmouth in lovely New Hampshire, but after the charm of Boston, Gloucester and Newburyport – it was redundant at best.  We had a lovely dinner aboard, Ted filling us in on his family and the new Fitness business and then off to sleep because tomorrow we are going to be in MAINE – the elusive destination we set our sights on years ago.  Alaska to Maine, or bust! Looks like we made it!

JULY 2009

New York Neighborhoods: Long Island and Connecticut

The Truran’s arrived by ferry, and after a bit of confusion finding each other and getting them moved into their spacious cabin - opening ceremonies commenced!  We laid out the chart of Long Island with its many familiar names.   We wanted to be realistic about this week long voyage using Wandering Star as home base, and bikes and our feet as transportation, and soon mapped out an itinerary that hopefully would give us the best taste of this storied island.   There were a lot of marinas, but they were as expensive as any we’ve ever encountered…including Costa Rica and Atlantis!  We’d pick marina time carefully and save for the great restaurants.   

We would alternate dinners ashore with dinners on board, so a provisioning trip was in order.  There was a pretty decent market, Jonnies, and shopping center near Newport Harbor and we were delighted to find a good selection of fresh produce, meats, cheeses and wines too.  Wines are serious business with this crowd and we’d grown much too comfortable with our south of the border usual find, Concha y Toro and had yet to retrain our palette.  We did that with flair and punished our livers in the process.

We left the comfort of Newport Marina in Jersey City and cruised down the Hudson, over to the East River and under the many bridges that crisscross Manhattan, Brooklyn and the Bronx, and out onto Long Island Sound.  It was a glorious city tour, but we decided that the UN needs a facelift, I wonder if we can get its privileged inhabitants to chip in? 

Our first stop is at Port Washington and the city of Manhasset.  The Brewers Capri marina is not right in town, so we dropped the dinghy and rode over to have a closer look.  It’s a cute town, nice antique shops, restaurants and homes.  We stopped for a beer at a local pub on the water, but didn’t really come away with a strong sense of this suburb of NYC.  We dug into those wines and grilled beautiful steaks for dinner aboard. 

The Huntington Yacht Club is a busy place; we were given what looked to be the last slip in the marina.  We had a long, but nice walk to town, and I quite enjoyed it.  Founded in the mid 1600’s, and the birthplace and home of Walt Whitman, it has a rich history in farming, shipping, the American Revolution and now as a bedroom community of NYC, but complete in its own right with a large year round population.  On our walk, we discovered the restaurant Prime, about half way from the club to town, and made reservations for that evening.  It was a rather pricey establishment and much to our surprise, it was packed, and everyone seemed to know each other.  What recession?  Food was excellent-as was the people watching, but the service was subpar, darn it.

In contrast to the well heeled, but not overtly friendly crowd at HYC, the Mt. Sinai Yacht Club went out of its way to make us feel welcome.  Everyone from the members on the docks, to the people in the office and the service staff at the restaurant were extremely hospitable.  And lunch on the deck was delicious.  We so enjoyed the company that we didn’t venture very far from the club and just enjoyed the comings and goings of the boats in this lovely natural harbor. 

We chose Greenport as the perfect place to stop for a few days.  It is said to be one of the warmest spots on the East coast, and is home to its most renowned vineyards.  It is literally at the end of the road, at the eastern end of Long Island.  It’s a picturesque little seaside village with a rich maritime history.  There are lots of opportunities for fine dining, many unique retail stores, quaint buildings and even a movie theatre.  We had a prime location at Mitchells Marina, close, but not too close, to Claudio’s Clam Bar on the pier and the site of much afternoon frivolity and live music. 

Claudio’s also has a highly regarded restaurant that the family opened in the mid 1800’s.  It has a real old pub quality to it, and fantastic fish and crab.  The servings were so generous, we got a second meal out of it.  We thought we’d rent a car here, but were misinformed about far the rental offices were and how bad the traffic was on a summer weekend.  We hopped on a ferry across to Shelter Island instead and rented bikes for a spin around the island.  Well, part of the island.  It was a bit more demanding than we counted on, but we got a good look around on foot and bike.

SHYC, in the fabled town of Sag Harbor was next on our agenda, and the first yacht we saw was Jimmy Buffet’s distinctive slate blue Continental Drifter III…we’ve seen this 124’ Delta in a few places now, and always know we like any town Jimmy likes.  The club is small and friendly and well located, and $6 a foot a night…yikes.  Better make the most of this stop.  We wasted no time settling in, Jim was off making friends with the chef aboard Hi Banx, a NASCAR (Bill France family) yacht and we readied to take on the town.  It is nice, touristy yes, but underpinning that you felt a real town.  We stopped at the Dockhouse for a Long Island Iced Tea, since I’d never had one, and if not now on L.I.- when?  Good thing Pam and I split it – whoa, it is almost all liquor… all the white ones with a splash of coke for the slight tea coloring.  Sheesh.  Looking for the perfect fit for our farewell dinner, we chose the candle lit, white table clothed,  silver laden American Hotel Restaurant, said to be one of the best in the Hamptons.  It was very nice all the way around and a lovely way to end this especially fun week.  

Our guests took a taxi to the train for the trip back to New York City and we had to vacate our slip or face another day’s charges, so off went the lines and we found our way to the impossibly calm and quiet Three Mile Harbor.  We ate and drank nothing for two days, just to detox.  The weather was not great, so we didn’t even go ashore until our third day!  How is that for relaxing? 

I can’t remember how many books I’ve read that have the “Hampton’s” as a backdrop, starting with the Great Gatsby, but I wanted the real story, so I picked up a book, “In the Hamptons” by Dan Rattiner, founder and editor of the popular local newspaper, “Dan’s Paper” which he’s published since the early 1960’s.  The book is a series of short stories about local people, rich and famous to farmers and fishermen.  It was fun to read while there and made me want to see a little bit of them.  We arranged for a car rental and tied up the dink at the local boat yard and our always reliable Enterprise rep was there as planned.  We spent the day cruising through the moneyed Hampton neighborhoods: Bridgehampton, East Hampton and Montauk.  We found Montauk the most modest, but they were all lovely and now a bit more familiar and with a casual elegance we appreciated. 

After resting our bodies, it was time to tool up again and go meet the rellies in Mystic Seaport.  It really is Spring Break for Seniors out here!  This branch of the Munsch clan are legendary partiers, and keen boaters.  Cousin Bobby and Paula are sailors we last saw on St. John, and sister Audrey and Don have joined us all over the world.  Add that to the charm of Mystic and we knew we’d have a remarkable time. 

We stayed in town at Seaport Marina and had a nice slip, easy to get into and right in town mid afternoon.  We hadn’t been in this town for 25+ years, so we were anxious to have a look around.  It does cater to visitors so it’s easy to walk around, and has fun shops to poke through.  We were told that S&P Oysters at the Bridge was under new management and doing a great job, so we stopped by for a delicious meal and view of the harbor.  We missed seeing the gang on Copperline as they sailed by, Bobby at the helm with no engine, sailing under the bridges and to the rivers navigable end… much to Paula’s apprehension and Audrey’s delight.

Mystic has good little shops for provisioning, but a great supermarket about a mile or two up the road.  I was ready to walk it when we learned that the Walkers had dropped one of their cars off for us at the marina – so very thoughtful.  So I was able to do all my chores, including getting my hair taken care of at Paula’s salon - Antonio’s.  For us high maintenance girls, finding a good stylist is never easy, and the search begins anew every 5 or 6 weeks.  The boys just find a barber pole and walk in.  $15 later, they look fresh and tidy…and sometimes, military! 

The boys were off to the Captain Daniel Packer Pub, the oldest one in town having been built in the mid 1700’s.  We girls shopped and then joined the boys in this historic establishment for a late lunch.  It is charming with low beamed ceilings, lots of stone and dark wood - with my imagination I was transported back in time and could see myself in saucy wench’s dress, carrying heavy mugs of ale to thirsty sailors!

Bob and Paula live on nearby Mason Island, but they were all staying in the bay, moored out at MIYC aboard Copperline.  We joined them there for Friday night dinner at the club.  It is a catered event with well turned out club kids as wait staff, and is served out on the huge wraparound, covered deck.  Catering-in is a wonderful solution for clubs without professional kitchens.  Everybody brings their own drinks and wine.  It is very “casual elegant”, the men were in jackets, the ladies in dresses and we felt very welcome.  Michael who we’d met in St John and his wife Kathy were there and we met lots of people with questions for us about our voyage.  Ade loves swapping sea stories and telling our tales.

We ventured over to historic Mystic Seaport to see the Classic Antique Boat Show.  We adore seeing and going on the old beauties.  We found a 1965 Pearson Alberg 35 like our first boat, “Jo-Hata”, named after me and our partners wife…come to think of it, it is the only boat we named after me!  Hmmm.  No Lady Jo, GoGoJoJo, C YA Jo, or other banal name arrangements – should I feel crushed?  Nah!  Anyway, we had such a good time going aboard, with owner Joy’s permission, and on deck for a nostalgic trip down memory lane.  There were some really amazing classic yachts of all sizes- all incredibly well maintained or restored.  We spent hours looking them over.  As insanely difficult as they are to maintain, nothing is quite as beautiful as a classic wooden boat. 

The afternoon was glorious and we decided to have a clam bake at MIYC.  Copperline, was now tied alongside the long pier.  We were joined on board by Paula’s good friends Marti and Gaye, really nice gals who live on the Island.  Bobby and Don prepared steamers (mussels) in broth for us that we enjoyed on board with Bermudan Rum Swizzles – a first for us.  Picnic tables were set, the BBQ fired up for a mixed grill – the fresh corn had been soaked in sea water for a wonderful salty taste.  Members and neighbors gather on the lawn, the flag is lowered at sunset with ceremony and we all stand at attention with our hands over our hearts.  There are so many interesting people, each one with fun stories to share.  It was a real New England clambake. 

Sunday was lovely, we took a mini road trip in the borrowed car, went to Stonington for breakfast at a local institution – Noah’s.  It was also Blessing of the Fleet day, so all the boats were gaily decorated and the food stands and crafts all set up.  It’s a charming town, a bit less touristy than Mystic, with little shops and restaurants in old buildings.  It seemed to us that many of the people we talked to were part time locals, city folks who have weekend or summer cottages here.  We got back to WS in time for the parade of classic boats.  One of the boats on our dock had foot long brass cannon and would salute each boat as she passed…. Ade said these cannons just use blank shotgun shells – big noise, big smoke, and big fun… once I stopped jumping every time it went off.

The Hazen’s had to go home, but Bob, Paula met us at the marina for snacks on WS, and then dinner out at S&P Oysters again, because Marti had just taken a summer job there.  It was fun, lots of friends, lots of stories.  It’s a great small town; we’ve seen several people a few times now.  In fact, as I walked the next day, I encountered two people I’d met – feels like home.  I hope we get back here next year!

June 2009

ICW to New York – THE GREAT CITIES

Ade had patiently waited while I had my extra mental health week at home, but was fully provisioned and ready to go when I got back.  Our next port, Brunswick Landing, GA.  This is Voyagers new home and a really great marina and little town, and as we have since learned, not a bad place to keep your boat.  It is insurance compliant for us during summer and fall, as it is in Georgia, and in the winter, it is usually relatively temperate. It is about an hour from Jacksonville, and has a good airport shuttle company in “A 2 B”. 

This is all territory we’ve done before, so we went “outside” at Brunswick and made the overnight run along the Atlantic to the lovely Charleston harbor.  It was a lovely night with a beautiful moon, calm seas and we both actually got sleep, each taking a three hour watch during the 6PM to 6AM period.      

Charleston is a great city and the Municipal Marina is well located.  It is a longish walk to downtown, but certainly do-able, and the marina offers a shuttle several times a day.  We like to walk in, walk around, hit the Harris Teeter Grocery Market and then wait for the marina van to take us home.  This is an overnight stop, but Ade promises a longer visit in the fall.  The shops are charming; the Market offers all manner of irresistible pretty things, wildly impractical for the boat, except of course fun jewelry and scarves, and trinkets for friends.  Since time was short, after lunch on the waterfront, Ade took the opportunity to visit the newest ship in the Navy and I allowed myself more time in the various shops and galleries. 

The ICW in South Carolina is slow going again, but pretty.  We decided to stop for the night in Georgetown, and chose one of three convenient marinas in town so we would be able to get in a good afternoon walk.  As we turned off the ICW into town, we were delighted to see the familiar gorgeous green hull of Kasekuchen tied to the end of the first marina.  We tooted and hollered, and almost before we could tie up Cheryl was there on her bike with Ade’s favorites…hot passage cookies.  How she does it I will never know.  She joked about me madly vacuuming up, but we’d been inundated all day with these strange looking flies and those we didn’t swat to death, died anyway.  It was mass carnage, insect bodies littering up the entire boat, ahh, springtime in the south!  That night, Bob magically whipped up the most delicious parmesan crusted fresh grouper in caper butter sauce that we’d ever eaten.  I wish Ade would take lessons from him, and he wishes I would.  The thing is lessons or not, it’s a gift…and Bob Klein has it.  Cheryl has it too, but has to fight for the galleyJ.  Dinner on Kasekuchen is a real treat. 

We followed each other out the next day, they onto Myrtle Beach for a planned month long stay with friends and family, while we gypsies continued onward, determined to get to Maine by August 1st.  We tooted goodbye at Grand Dunes complex and moved on, planning to go as far as we could that day and anchor out.

Well, the anchoring out bit didn’t work out as well as we’d planned.  We ran hard aground on the ol’ Calabash Creek…no amount of maneuvering helped.  It was getting dusky and we didn’t want to mess around with it in the dark, so we swallowed our pride and called for an assist…that’s why we belong to Boat US.  It’s inexpensive, offers discounts to many marinas, and with full coverage, tow services are a fraction of what they might be.  We wouldn’t cruise North America without it.  The Tow Boat US driver had to work hard to set us free, and then checked all the depths of this shallow anchorage until he found an area that would be deep enough for us.  He also soothed our bruised egos by telling us that this area is a real rainmaker for tow companies because it is so poorly marked. 

It was another long run the next day, but by the weekend we were in another one of those ‘ya just gotta stop here’ places, Beaufort, North Carolina.  Ade’s brother Ray and his wife Kathy drove out from their Raleigh home to spend a few days with us.  As usual when meeting friends that will cruise with you from port to port, it’s a bit of a puzzle getting ground transportation coordinated.  It often involves dropping one car at the point of termination and driving the other one to the point of embarkation, or renting cars to return your guests to their car or airport. 

Beaufort is charming, we fell in love with it the first time and if anything, we like it even more nine years later.  The marina at the City Docks has a friendly staff, is conveniently located in the well maintained historic downtown,  and they offer a complimentary car to run to the big grocery stores just a few miles away.  In town, there is a good health food store, great restaurants, live music venues every few store fronts, cute shops and good galleries. 

Dreamweaver was just hauled and is up on the hard near here.  Dottie and Ken have packed up a U-Haul to take an impossible amount of things home to California.  They have cruised for over five years now on their radical sabbatical, and it’s time to go back to work for awhile.  They have some great business opportunities that won’t wait.  They hope to continue cruising up the ICW to the Northeast in the next two years.  We plan to still be nearby to join them.  They stopped by for a goodbye visit with all of us, and we wished them well on their cross country truckin’ adventure.  

We strolled town and had a lovely dinner out at the Front Street Grill, Ray tried to get us to order Shrimp n Grits, but we declined…and a bite of his didn’t convince we northerners that we’d made a mistake.   The next morning they convinced us we HAD to have breakfast out at the Grocery Restaurant.  It is wonderful, and always packed for whatever meal they are serving.  We stayed in town all day, and Steve and Barb from Maerin, a Solo 43 (our sister ship) pulled in and joined us for Happy Hour. 

May 2009

Back-Back in the U.S.S.A. 

Florida and the ICW

What a wonderful welcome home.  Les and Rose were down visiting Bob and Cheryl on Kasekuchen.  As we came under the Las Olas Bridge, Rose and Cheryl were there hanging over it and shouting their greetings, the boys were back at the club ready for our lines.  It was a great American homecoming.   

Checking back into the USA in Ft. Lauderdale was easy.  Bob and Cheryl loaned us their lovely car to drive to customs on the base, everyone there was quite friendly and it didn’t take long at all.  I get my knickers in a twist sometimes when going through government processes, concerned that they will want to come down and take away all my hard won provisions and personal collection of Caribbean rums. 

The Coral Ridge Yacht Club is lovely and brilliantly located and soon I am back in the “real” world of Macy’s shopping centers, chain restaurants, etc.  We have a great time with the Dobbe’s and Klein’s - Iron Chef Bob cooked up a storm.  Gorgeous niece Gigi was in town visiting friends, so we had family time as well. 

We have done this stretch of the ICW before, back in 2001 on Wandering Star I, with then 13 year old Kei and our little Corgi, Scooter aboard.  The Intracoastal Waterway is unlike anything on the west coast.  It runs for 1240 miles from Key West, Florida to the entrance to the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia.  Every few miles the scenery changes dramatically.  In this part of Florida we encounter many bridges that must be opened, so timing is everything.  If you miss an opening it often means you have to circle for a half hour or more, so we are on the ball and paying attention.  It is also a no wake zone, so you cannot push it.  

One of the reasons, among many, that we chose a 43’ Trawler was for her relatively shallow draft, we draw only 5 feet.  Most of the ICW has a mean low water of at least 6 feet, but there is little money for maintaining that depth in the non commercial areas and shoaling is becoming more common.  We watch the tides to make sure to avoid those areas during low tide, something else to add to the navigational mix.  The dredged channel is also very narrow and during the spring and summer months, the traffic is heavy.  We find ourselves “waked” by… Those Power Boaters!  We Trawler folk think like sailors when passed by a Go-Fast boat that pays no attention to the huge wake they throw out and rock us mercilessly.  Suffice to say, gone are the days where you can set your autopilot and throttle and flip through a magazine from the helm chair while on watch.  After two years of ocean cruising, I’m a tad bit stressed out with all of this…this…busyness.  I will be happy to get beyond the south Florida ICW traffic.

Each little berg has its own personality; some are imposing with grand mansions and gardens right to the water’s edge and unlike driving through posh neighborhoods where all you see are the ornate vine covered walls and gates, on the waterway you are IN their incredible “backyard” with luxurious pools and porticos.   The next town you go through may have only modest little houses, closer together with children playing along the banks, people fishing from rickety docks or off the side of a wall. Unfortunately, there are also more and more huge condominium complexes with private marina’s, that have little or no personality from our vantage point… that’s when the ICW earns its nickname, “The Ditch”.   

There are, however, still long stretches of undeveloped land with wild overgrown  shrubs and lush springtime green trees.  It’s quiet along these meandering waterways  usually we only encounter fishermen in small skiffs…unless it’s a weekend, and then add lots of family boats and jet skis, everyone out sharing the water.  It’s quite festive.

At Vero Beach we rented a car and collected my oldest friend Lorelei and her husband Conrad to ride along for a few days and experience the cruising lifestyle.   We stop at every little harbor and they show us around their Space Coast towns, including Melbourne Harbor, Eau Gallie, Cocoa and Titusville.  This is a lovely stretch of the ICW, where you really are on the Indian River, and there are many options.  It’s also easy to go outside and make the run on the Atlantic, or if you are a shallow draft vessel you can take the canal to the Banana River on the east side of Merritt Island.  It’s all Cape Canaveral area and well worth a visit to the Space Center.

The Titusville Municipal Marina is in a wonderful spot to watch a space launch and we lucked out again and were there for one of last the Atlantis launches. We had a front row seat at the end of the T Dock.  Best yet, we were stern to stern with Kasekuchen, and Les and Rose drove down again to play.  Dot and Ken had just arrived from the Abaco’s, and dropped anchor outside the marina, and Tim and Jan who we’d last seen in Nassau also came into the marina.  We had such a great time together watching the fiery blast off.  It had clouded up a bit, but what we couldn’t see, we ran inside and watched on NASA TV, and we could feel the energy across the water.

We hotfooted it north ahead of some rather nasty weather, but were able to stop for a few nights in one of our favorite places, St. Augustine and garnered a spot at the municipal marina which is right in town.  Wandering Star I was built at the Mainship factory up the river, so we’d visited a few times in the past. This time it was pure pleasure being tourists, just strolling the streets of old town, peeking into interesting shops and finding wonderful places to eat.  Loved a new little wine and tapas bistro, The Tasting Room on Cuna St., and of course La Pentola is a fantastic restaurant, and wonderful for lunch too.

We were flying home for son Kei’s college graduation in a few days, so we had to get a move on.  Insurance regulations require that the boat be north of Florida by June 1^st.     Jacksonville has a great airport and it is right at the Georgia border, so that was our next destination.  Jacksonville is always a bit of a drama for us with the wide and sometimes very shallow St. John River.  We’d shopped around for a marina that was closer to the waterway and the airport and booked at one we thought would be perfect for the weeks we’d be gone.  It was not a good choice.  We tied up and realized that this little marina’s dock system was not set up for a 25 ton vessel and would not hold us if the weather got dodgy…and dodgy was the forecast for the foreseeable future.  We had to find another marina and fast. A de pulled out of the slip, the skies were darkening and I started working the phones.  Our only choice at this point was to go further up the river…argg,   The electronic/paper charts are not much help this far up the river as the shoals shift like crazy on these rivers and this one is not well marked except for commercial traffic.   I was madly trying to negotiate a monthly rate and mindful of the fact that we had to get one right now, and fly out the next day.  

We were watching the depth sounder and praying for some markers that would indicate a deeper water route through the shallows.  Thank goodness, a faster trawler zoomed by us, so we hailed them on Channel 16 and they graciously agreed to show us the way.  We still had a very low bridge that we had to get opened, and now the wind is gusting in that manic way it does ahead of a squall and we could hear …shudder…thunder and see lightning close at hand - eek, a boater’s nightmare!  “Hurry, open open open”, I prayed to the bridge, and as it did, so did the sky…it just poured.  We hailed the marina, and the wonderful husband of the gal in the office at Ortega Landing came running down the dock to show us our spot and grab a line.  Phew.  Cheated death again.   Once the storm passed we jumped off, got our bearings and slowly realized that Ortega Landing was built on the same sight as the funky marina we stayed in nine years ago.  We are such homing pigeons, drawn again and again to the same places. 

We got home in time to watch our handsome son graduate cum laude from Chapman University.  Yippee.  He did it in four years, but like all his classmates in the current job market environment – he has no idea what is next.  But he is clever and will keep the college job and take on a few independent projects to try on careers.  Our advice, “Keep the overhead low and explore young man, explore”.

A little personal confession here.  Sometimes the constant moving and lack of personal space just gets to me.  I think I may be a “love the one I’m with” kind of girl…well actually; it’s more like, love the place I’m in.  We are living a gypsy lifestyle, but I am really a nester at heart.  I am never really ready to leave a place, no matter how exciting the upcoming destination.  When I am in a lovely port and start to find my way, I don’t want to move to the next.  When I am on the boat, I am not ready to go home and when I am home, I don’t want to leave.  I mention it because I’ve met a lot of gals who feel like I do.  We’re not malcontents, it’s just that sometimes, we women might need to linger just a little longer than our partners do.   

I felt that way after another whirlwind trip home, so I finagled an extra week at our little casita in Las Vegas while Ade flew back ahead of me.  I just puttered and attended to much needed tasks – and took some serious alone time… it’s good for my head, and I think for relationships.   He met me at the airport with flowers.  Ahhhh, what a guy, still romantic after 39 years!   

April 2009

SKINNY WATERS…aka, Why Didn’t We Buy a Catamaran?

Turks and Caicos and the Bahamas

We made an overnight passage from the Dominion Republic to Turks & Caicos. 

Collectively, it is written that these two island nations have over 700 islands and cover thousands of miles.  Only about 30 to 40 are inhabited.  We will see only a few of them.

The Turks and Caicos are almost like a long coral reef.  They offer beautiful options for snorkeling and diving and for catamarans and shallow draft boats are probably great.  For those of us who draw 5’ or more, there are not as many options.  Providenciales is in the Caicos group of islands, and it was our best option for a quick trip.

We chose an anchorage on the south side of the island of Providenciales, or Provo, for an easy check in, and what we hoped was easy access to the town.  “Downtown” was a few miles away, and an expensive cab ride ($35USD+), so we four decided, against advice from the officials, that we needed the workout-you know, that ol’ “ it can’t be that far” mentality,  and started walking.  Town, as it turns out, is a real long walk…and to not much of a town at all.  Luckily, the nicest Canadian ex pat plumber in a work truck stopped and asked if we wanted to hop in the back….’you betcha’- we’re not proud and so in we jumped.  He dropped us in the center of “downtown”- basically an asphalt parking lot, strip mall with a supermarket shopping center, few other stores, mainly insurance agents, etc…. and that was about it.  We asked for directions to something…more?  No one would really talk to us. We walked a few more blocks and found a marine store, which as always, perked the boys up, but where’s the heart of this island?  We realized if we were going to see anything, we really needed a car…but no one seemed to know where we could rent one.

We reversed directions and found ourselves on Airport Road where we spotted a few car rental offices; we stopped at the first one.  A few guys were inside, one sound asleep at the reception desk, and the other two wouldn’t talk to us, despite our polite hellos.  Not surly, they just didn’t want to move a muscle or even think about giving us a car…we backed out, said goodbye with the same effect that our cheery hello’s got…nada.  Where the heck are we?  It was kinda surreal-part DMV/Post Office, and part Tangiers Island- we were the unseen.  Thus far, the T&C’s weren’t making much of an impression. 

We saw a Hertz sign a ¼ mile down the road and gave it a go.  Much better, we were sure that we would now be able to fall in love with the real Provo so many people seem to adore.   We did our usual figure eight sightseeing tour and found some places of mild interest, but nothing that grabbed us.  Voyager came in directly from San Juan and was going back to the US, so they were at Turtle Bay Marina on the north shore.  The marina is nice, and is where we would stay if this were a real destination for us.  It is closer to a good supermarket and other shops, a friendly atmosphere, fun restaurant and marine stores.   

The north side of the island is nicer, in my opinion, but our impression of the island is that it is a great place to own a second home or go to a destination resort.  It has beautiful white sand beaches, great diving and snorkeling, tropical weather, but if you are a deeper draft vessel your anchorage will be further out and you’d really have to have a car to get around.  Provo doesn’t seem to have a unique culture or heart and therefore slides off our minds like Teflon.  It seemed that the people were not very happy.   You often find that native people everywhere resent tourists, but this was different, this is how they were with each other.  Perhaps it was just that week.

We had one last dinner with the gang, Dot & Ken, Les and Rose.  We celebrated Ade’s birthday early, and quietly said good night, and goodbye for now, to our dear traveling companions of so many thousands of miles.  They are returning to the real world and new business opportunities and need to get to Georgia STAT.  They were always there for us, and also always wonderful company.  We will miss them so much.  Rose had surreptitiously baked Ade a Kahlua Birthday cake and had it all wrapped up and ready to take back to WS for his actual birthday.  That’s the kind of people they are. 

We are ready for the Bahamas!  The Bahamas are an archipelago that extend over 2000 miles in a general NW to SW direction and have over 600 islands.  They sit on a vast limestone reef and its name, Grand Bahama apparently came from the Spanish, meaning Great Shallow Sea.   It is skinny water and careful alert navigation is essential at all times.   

Our first stop was Abraham on the island of Mayaguana, a convenient little township in which to check into the country.   Now this place seems to have personality… it’s quite flat, lots of scrub bushes, not too many trees…white-white fine sand, gorgeous water, and about 10,000 conch shells piled high.   There are only a few people on the island, they all know each other, in fact, we think they are all related.  It was an Easter weekend and we didn’t know if anything would be open.  We started walking down the dusty road after we’d anchored in the bay and dinked in.  A friendly local gal, Winifred, picked us up, said she was sure we could check in, even though all offices were closed, and drove to several people’s homes to get to the official who could sign us in.  They tracked him down, and off we went to his office.  He’d changed into a suit and tie, was very nice, but explained that in “actuality it is only my clark” (love the way it’s said with an English accent), “who knows precisely how to process all the necessary papers”…  (He, in fact, hasn’t a clue how it’s done - typical boss-man, eh?)… “And pity, she’s out bush crabbing this morning, but no matter, she couldn’t possibly stay out all day, so we’ll just wait, shall we?”  Well Okey Dokey then!

It is Easter Saturday and we are just grateful we don’t have to wait until Tuesday, after the four day holiday.  We walked around a bit, watched  the colorful neighborhood drunk try to find someone to buy him a bottle, as the local Mom & Pop had cut him off, and just generally enjoyed ourselves taking in all the comings and goings at the crossroads of this small village. 

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?