Company Calls part III – VI to Puerto Rico

This next friend, was well acquainted with St. John in the Virgin Islands. Matt, who we endearingly call Red, lived in St. John just after he finished college. So it only seemed fitting we meet him at a bar in St. John …Coral Bay, Skinny Legs! Burgers and Beers. What more does a cruiser really need?

We made a few stops to favorite places like Normans Island, the Willy Ts and to the northern section of Francis Bay, St. John. It was a genuinely beautiful time, Red with his puns, Mike with his computer programing talk, Kirsten with her music and every day we’d drop that and go snorkeling. It wasn’t until our passage from St. John Virgin Islands to Puerto Rico we saw any drama.

Red was behind the helm sailing at a run (the wind was directly at our stern), all sails in flight as far as they could reach. Mike and I were leisurely sitting with the fishing poll stuck in its nook towing a fake plastic squid to catch a tasty fish. All was boring and calm and then ZZZZZZZIIIIING. In light air I brought in the main and tried to furl in the genoa to slow the boat and get the sails out of the way…. This was a lot easier in thought than action. We lost too much speed, the sails backed and the fish, that dang fish, which Mike was reeling in decided to swim right underneath the boat and wrap around something down there. All of a sudden turning on the motor looks like a bad idea…. What if the fish wrapped the line around the prop? Turning on the engine would mean cutting the line to our dinner – BUT if the fish somehow got the line stuck on the rudder, it would fine…. Instead of taking down the boarding ladder and diving in… we opted for continuing on our trip to the island of Culebrita where we would anchor under sail. But not before flogging the sails for another 20 minutes. The furling line on the genoa was caught and had to be manually rolled-in then out and untangled with pliers… ah the joys of sailing.

We had a beautiful sail into Culebrita where there’s a protected sandy bottom bay – excellent holding. We anchored under sail like pros; no engines used all day! What an accomplishment. We found Culebrita to be absolutely pristine and Red needed no coaxing to dive immediately into the water to check if the fish was still ensnared under the boat. To all of our dismay the fish got away but we still had the lure and hook so there’s always next time. On the bright side, I woke up the next morning and watched turtles come up for air and dive back down. It was the largest amount of turtles in one bay I’d ever witnessed and was wonderfully serene.

Company Calls part II – VIs explored w/ friends

With St. John and Jost Van Dyke covered, our next destination to discover was Virgin Gorda (the fat virgin). We had a great sail from Peter Island to the Bitter End, Tom took a go at the helm and sailed Gaia close hauled like he’d been doing it for months. In the afternoon we anchored in the calm waters of Eustatius and just right of the famous shallow snorkeling. Since Saba Rock was only a cables throw away we dinghy-ed over for the cocktails and tarpon feeding. Saba Rock has such a relaxed vibe, it’s where all the cool dinghies go to hang out and their owners sit idly on the dock drinking their high-priced cocktails watching kite surfers perform jaw-dropping tricks.

We learned there was a full moon party in Trellis Bay and made sail for Tortola to have our own experience in the full moon revelry. We arrived at Trellis Bay… and it was packed, more aptly defined as a sh!t show or a fog of boat masts – it was tightly anchored. Let’s put it this way; being between a rock and hard place was beginning to look roomy. We slowly and carefully meandered the premise, in hopes to find something the other 10 boats in front of us didn’t and sure enough! Winner! On the outer edge close to shore! We surreptitiously motored over, I felt like the submarine commander in WW II b&w movie trying to creep along enemy lines. There were hungry sailboats in every direction eager to jump on a mooring ball or sink their anchor in any ole patch of open water. We maneuvered to the cramped but unoccupied pocket and crept to a halt to anchor. This is what we had been training for. These past six months of hand signals, strong currents, timing, placement…. after 2 tries we anchored in just the right area. We were golden! We watched as other sad boaters skimmed past our transom with forlorn looks of despair at not finding anything.

We decided to grab a drink before dinner at this small island in the middle of the harbor. All the reviews made mention of young English hipsters who ran the bar. Of course we had to investigate these ‘youngens’. We arrived seconds after the bartender opened for business and had our first round of margs. We meandered to the outside and found a spacious yard with giant jenga, swings made from crates to lounge on, cornhole, fussball, every hipster/frat outdoor game you could think of, it was adult recess.

The moon began to rise as the sun sunk beyond the horizon, when we saw flames on the beach we took that as our calling. Live festive music was playing at full blast upon arrival and our friends Megs & Tom just happened to be sitting not 10 feet away from the dinghy dock and almost done with their first round of drinks.Fire-Sculpture-trio2 We roamed the beach and perused the art village and all the amazing steel creations and designs. There was a family friendly area and fires ablaze every hundred yards or so. There were several dance parties & jumby walkers spread out but the main attraction were these sculptures stuffed with paper and lit on fire. It was the Burning Man of the Virgin Islands! Far more tame but far more accessible for us. We enjoyed our 2 EC red stripes and danced until Megs & Tom and Nils & Lisa had to catch the last free ferry back across the channel. It was fun festive and lively. Definitely check it out if you’re in the area.

Day 4 was the day I had been waiting for, a visit to The Baths! You’re not allowed to bring your dinghy to shore, instead there are bouys to attach your tender and then you’re expected to swim ashore. All guidebooks mention the swim is not for the weak. Ok, but I’m young and fit and most guidebooks tell me a 3mile hike in the VIs is considered difficult, which I politely disagree with. I took the warnings with a grain of salt. Don’t do what I did the swim can be difficult. There are surges that roll through and crash after the steep dropoff on the beach. What our guidebook failed to mention is the red flags on the beach signaled there are stronger than usual wave conditions. Great. We had snorkels and flotation devices, we all made it in but not without an exhausting fight.

Finally! Our efforts finally paid off in the form of this magnificent and wild scenery. We found the path for tourists and quickly found our way up and away from the path.

We spent the night in Spanish Town and found the ocean front restaurants to be a bit pricey and with a less than local feel. We ended up talking to a driver in an open-aired bus who dropped us off at one of his favorite restaurants. It was a perfect mom n pop restaurant with outdoor seating and ridiculously good bbq. Yay! Does life get better? Sailing, adventuring, bouldering, friends, bbq, and fresh passion juice.

We spent the night in a marina because the swells were just too rowdy in the anchorage for top-heavy Gaia to spend the night. And the following day we had a  great sail to Norman Island. We tried racing a catamaran but once they realized how to  use the entire main sail we were toast. Norman Island in the afternoon was fairly crowded. The wind had picked up and the few anchoring spots were filled with other boats. We looped around the vast mooring field for the second time as rain began to pour. It was then a voice from heaven (or the mist) called out to Gaia. ‘There’s a mooring behind you!’ Sure enough, an off-colored mooring was indeed bobbing helplessly in the wind. Mike tried his best to keep the bow steady in line with the mooring ball pendant and I cumbersomely hitched a dock line with Tom and cleated it off securing Gaia for the night. I came back slightly chilled and soaking wet. Danise informed me there were gusts up to 30 knots while I was on the bow. I nodded my head feeling a little badass that we had just secured Gaia so effortlessly. It really does make all the difference having another pair of hands on deck.

Watch Out for Scuba Buddies Who Throw Fire Coral

Again alone on Gaia, we provisioned diesel, dinghy fuel, water, laundry and refilled scuba tanks in Redhook, St. Thomas. We made a quick motor around the bend to Christmas Cove on St. James and partook in the novelty of Pizza Pi, a steel-hulled sailboat that will serve pizza via VHF & dinghy.DSC_0149 A nice and fun treat! We fell in love with Christmas Cove and since the moorings were free… stayed a few nights. We dove on Calf Rock (3/4 mile dinghy ride WSW). It was a fun little dive where beginner divers become certified, actually, where Mike got his very own PADI cert years back. We ended up navigating through some narrow valleys in the rock, which proved to be really fun UNTIL… Mike picked up a broken off piece of coral with a neat little brittle star crawling on it, then dropped it. The shell swirled and swiveled round and round ever so delicately skimming my lower thigh just below where my shortie wetsuit cut off. For such a slight and momentary contact, it felt extremely sharp but I paid no attention to it for the first few minutes. My leg began stinging immensely and the area of contact felt tingly. I’m no expert but I know the words tingly and stinging don’t belong when you’re 40 feet underwater in a rock slit. So I motioned for us to return directly back to the dinghy something was not okay. On our return we followed a turtle, saw a grouper, and Mike even touched a trunkfish!

Back on the boat I cleaned the wound with salt water and vinegar. I had read

DSC_0168somewhere you should use salt water as opposed to fresh and vinegar will reduce the sting. It worked but I had a patch of bumpy irritated skin, which lasted for a few weeks. We ended up identifying the cause of the irritation as fire coral. Fire coral can grown on anything. So watch out!

Once I got over the trauma of my scuba buddy slashing me with fire coral…. We went diving again. We dinghied due south to an extended point of rocks called The Stragglers; hooked onto a mooring and descended next to the rocks. At 25 feet we heard a boat engine. I looked at Mike & tried to decompress my BCD so I’d sink further to the bottom and closer to him. Hearing the motor get closer, I looked behind me and to the surface and I’ll be damned! A medium-sized powerboat went right over our heads! I was more angry than scared that time… We continued onward and sure enough I heard another engine. This time I kept turning in circles to see if I could locate the boat. No sighting of it but I was breathing hard out of fear. I reminded myself we were in 30 feet of water and floating close to the coral heads and continued the dive until I was cold. Those two encounters served as a strong reminder that the safest place to descend and ascend is on your mooring ball line; that and there are a lot of stupid and oblivious boaters out there. (Respect dive flags, and popular snorkeling/dive spots boaters! And don’t be wanker watch where you anchor!)

DSC_0282We eventually left Christmas Cove for Cooper and Salt Island of the Channel Islands, to dive on the famed RMS Rhone. We descended at the stern to 35 feet and descended our way forward to the bow (the bowsprit lay at 90 feet). Within minutes of our descent we encountered a giant green moray eel….. swimming! He swam right between us! I didn’t realize they ever left their little caves… This beast was at least 10 feet long and slithered through the water gracefully, finally diving into a compartment in the back of what was once part of an engine. I thought it exquisite but cute; while its head & body was hidden about 3 feet of its tail was still exposed as it had outgrown its old hiding spots. Mike later said he had the urge to pull on the tail; needless to say I’m glad he suppressed his 10 year old self. We swam back and forth over and under the old engine room and decaying hull. The RMS Rhone broke in two and now rests on its side so you can see old portholes from above and swim into what once was the deck. We saw some enormous lobsters and beautiful angel fish. The amount of coral and fish life was amazingly bountiful and beautiful.divesite_1256_1487 But not so much that it took my mind off the fact that I was now 90 feet underwater and every inch of me was compressed by more than a few atmospheres. It’s a little alarming how long it takes your air bubbles to reach the surface at 90 feet. Feeling a little cold and recognizing I was approaching low air, we both slowly ascended on a mooring line – zero complications. No fire coral to report of.

Background on the RMS Rhone:

RhoneThe RMS Rhone was a 310 ft mail steamer. Powered by sail (2 masts) and steam engine. On October 29 of 1867, Robert F. Wooley captained the ship and was preparing her for the return voyage to England. The end of October generally marks the end of hurricane season, so when a Northerly wind began to blow and barometer began to fall, he dismissed it as a northerly front. At the time it was a beautiful day but the captain directed the ship to Road Town, Tortolla to weather the “storm”. At 11 AM, the barometer fell to 27.9 and the sky darkened quickly. Immense winds blew from the NNW destroying the main sails & rigging. A lull passed over so the captain made a the quick order to anchor. But the shackle of the cable caught in the hawsepipe…. (And translation for all the non-maritime folk… ‘messed up their ability to anchor – real bad’.). They were forced to drop the 3,000 lb. anchor and all 300 ft of anchor chain (trans: ‘seriously not good’). Captain Wooley took the appropriate option of weathering the storm out at sea. It was with full engines running, the RMS Rhone turned out to cross the Sir Francis Drake Channel and pass the Channel Islands. By that time the RMS Rhone had almost navigated its way through the Channel Islands, the SSW winds had started up in full strength and forced the RMS Rhone into the rocks, just off of Salt Island. The boat heeled over and broke in two, sinking instantly. There were crew and passengers onboard; of the survivors, I believe, 18 or so crew & 2 passengers survived the sinking.

DSC_0184Lastly, we visited The Willy T (old pirates ship) on Normans Island. The Willy T is famous for all sorts of scandalous shenanigans but we had a great time dancing and hanging out with friends Megs n Tom. We also bumped into the Captain of Boston schooner, Liberty Star! And to make it an even more surreal visit, we were dinghying through the anchorage and fellow female sailing friend from Boston, Rosemary spotted us on one of her charters she was captaining. Aaaaaand to add to all these serendipitous run-ins, we also saw Constitution Marina neighbor Mark on a beautiful catamaran with family! Seems like Boston just keeps running into us in the VIs.

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Company Calls part I – VIs explored w/ friends

We “quickly” sailed downwind to St. Thomas to pick up Corey and Jamie in the large harbor of Charlotte Amalie.DSC_0071 It’s a large flat sandy harbor so we picked any old spot away from the ferries only to find that seaplanes had their own unofficial runway at our stern, which we found to be entertaining. Their plane landed right as we anchored so we jetted straight to the airport…. And just in time I might add…. As we bumped into good ole Corey & Jamie at the airport (who had been giddily sipping free rum samples), they immediately steered us over to a long line for car rentals…. Asking us if we recognized anyone… and by George …of all the gin joints… our college friend Sarah whom, we both met through NEUs outdoor club NUHOC, was standing there! We had traveled thousands of miles away from home over the course of 6 months and, still, we serendipitously bumped into friends from home. Everyone was engulfed in hugs and disbelief asking the same dumbfounded question “Wow, what-the, when, how are you?!?!?!”IMG_7703Because Mike & I were so organized our first order of business was to go grocery shopping in St. Thomas. Fun! Our first night we ate out in town, arriving just in time for happy hour. With beer and cocktails in hand, we made a game plan for the next 5 days – Circumnavigate ST. JOHN! Before leaving we meandered the town of Charlotte Amalie, known for its jewelry district. I found the Dutch influence in architecture to be of far greater interest; the buildings were made-up of old weathered stone walls with thick heavy wooden doorways and fat metal latches beautifully fashioned from a time period I can only imagine.DSC_0069

St. John, day 1: We beat into the wind (‘beat’ is sailing jargon for bashing the bow of your sailboat into or close to the wind – aka not fun sailing) to St. John and hooked onto a National Park mooring. We snorkeled the area, spotting several stingrays and a turtle and the next morning we ran the dinghy onto shore in Reef Bay.DSC_0058 DSC_0050

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There are ruins of an old sugar mill in great condition complete with an old steam engine built in Glasgow, Scotland. Being the hiking fans we are, we chose to keep hiking and explored the petroglyphs of Reef Bay.DSC_0067 These stone carvings are thought to represent a spiritual place for the Taino, Arawak people from pre-Columbian times (anywhere between 600-1,000 years ago). As a kid, I like most, wanted to be Indiana Jones. So crouching down on this uneven rock near a flat pool of water, it was… exciting… to think; 600 years ago someone in this exact spot was carving this image into the stone to honor the spirits and that’s how they spent their day. We spent the rest of our day grabbing a mooring in Salt Pond Bay and hiking Rams Head and snorkeling crystal clear waters. Rams Head is a high jagged bluff on the south east side of St. John and has a bloody past. In 1733 a great slave rebellion took place on St. John, lasting for several months. French & Swiss troops eventually arrived putting a stop to the insurrection. The grim denouement of the rebellion ended with a group of 300 slaves jumping to their death at Rams Head point instead of returning to the overlords and torturous life of a slave. We arrived at the SW summit and looked around at the steep and dramatic cliffside and jagged rocks below. An impending rainstorm brought strong winds tearing over the summit so we looked around silently and quickly returned to the boat in awe. A tiny lizard attacked me on the way back, jumping onto my hand for an instant before flinging itself off into the bushes. Taking me by surprise, I screamed. Mike laughed and recounted the time a flying fish almost hit me in the cockpit on our passage to Bermuda.

IMG_7726Our next anchorage was a sporty sail into Coral Bay where we made an impromptu stop at a floating bar. We were only going to check it out but the proprietor was so damn friendly…. And how do you say no to rum punches at a floating bar, I have not yet found the strength or craziness to say no …. So out of the dinghy onto the floating pontoon. There was a bed on the other end with a long curtain to partition his room off and in the center there was a circular glass floor under a glass table. At night, you could turn on underwater lights and watch the tarpon swim underneath. There was a full kitchen/bar setup, bathroom, and even a second floor to sunbathe on. He explained how he built the entire set up from scratch and wanted to put it up on a B&B site.  He plans to offer a package deal where he’ll captain the vessel out to anchorages around St. John and leave you with a couple kayaks, then he would return and move you to a next destination. For a more adventurous demographic, I could see this working out beautifully.

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dinner at Skinny Legs – asininely great burgers! ;)

Our last few days we explored Jost Van Dyke enjoying pain killers from the Soggy Dollar Bar, (supposedly where the recipe was created) and danced on the beach with a bunch of spring breakers having a good time. IMG_7733The Soggy Dollar gets its name from boaters arriving, throwing down their anchor, then swimming to shore for a drink; there’s even a line with clothespins to dry out the sopping-wet tens and twenties. After enough partying we spent the night off Maho Beach and dinghied into Cruz Bay where by Corey and Jamie’s combined worldly knowledge won trivia night! Technically we didn’t win win, the bar tenders won but they had won every trivia night for the past month and we had the severe disadvantage since teams were allowed to buy the moderator drinks in exchange for points…. Bartenders won again but team Masshole Sailors came in second place.

Truckin’ on like the sailors we are – St. Martin to VIs

It’s that time again. Full tanks, full propane, full water tanks, and laundry is all set. We chipped away at our seemingly endless list of boat chores and found victory in our accomplishments. St. Maarten struck us as a home away from home and we’d love to return to the island paradise but for now, we’ve made arrangements to pick up friends and sail around the VIs.

The Virgin Islands are a cluster of islands with all forms of interesting dives, coves, caves, and anchorages for cruisers. The islands provide wind shadows and great barriers to the wild ocean seas making the Sir Francis Drake Channel a very enjoyable place to sail. It’s no wonder hundreds or sailors flock here each winter.

DSC_0491Our overnight sail was beautiful, we flew the spinnaker for half of the trip and enjoyed a star-studded night. We passed several vessels and I watched a lightning storm pass at a safe distance. En route, I read that the US bought the Dutch portion of the Virgin Islands for $25 million in 1917… nicely done Uncle Sam…. At the time the Virgin Islands were in economic decline from the abolition of slavery. The main export was sugar which had been heavily dependent on slave labor. But far before that ugly period in time; Christopher Columbus discovered the Virgin Islands in 1493 and named the island chain the Virgin Islands after Saint Ursula and the 11,000 virgins. (Virgin Gorda -fat- received it’s name because the island resembled a reclining woman with a protruding belly from the seaside vantage point).DSC_0507

Having never heard of this Saint Ursula or the 11,000 virgins, I did a little research, I mean, 11,000 virgins… that’s a lot of dames. Why 11,000? What happened to them? From what I’ve gathered from a few sources, Saint Ursula lived between 300-600 AD… (she lived 1500 years ago, & they narrowed it down to 300 years, way to go historians). Ursula was betrothed to marry a complete stranger higher in rank. To meet her soon-to-be husband, she boarded a ship with her hand maidens ranging anywhere between 11 to 11,000 in number. Oh, how stories are skewed sometimes. The long and arduous voyage was miraculously completed in a single day. Taking this to be a sign, Ursula declared she would make a panEuropean pilgrimage with all 11 or 11,000 handmaidens before the wedding (sounds like someones stalling to me). Their journey landed them in Cologne Germany, which, unfortunately was invaded by the Hun troops. The handmaidens refused to be with or marry the invading troops so they were tragically beheaded. Ursula was brought to death by the bow and arrow of the Hun soldiers. One of histories tragic tales, and in part, made immortal by Columbus giving respect to St. Ursula by way of the beautiful island chain we now call the Virgin Islands.

Around 9 AM we passed Sir Richard Bransons famous Necker Island, we made our way through the narrow passage by Saba Rock and found a cozy little place to anchor in the lee of Prickly Pear Island – only a skip away from Saba, Bitter End Yacht Club, and Customs.

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When I was a kid my family and our good family friends, the Lainos, chartered a Beneteau throughout the Sir Francis Drake. It was at the beautiful Bitter End, I learned how to swim by myself. So, revisiting this place was one of nostalgia. Mike and I stayed here for a few days to recoup and play around with my brand new scuba setup! Mike had purchased his own scuba gear last year so it was about time I join him in exploring watery deep. In St. Martin we stumbled upon great gear on sale; new BCD, new regulator/octopus, new shorty wetsuits for both of us, and lightly used tank for $ 1,000. I’m sure if we had reliable internet and searched high and low there’s a better deal out there…. but for the ease of walking in and walking out in an hour or so… we were excited. We pulled off two beginner dives, testing our buddy breathing, clearing goggles 30 feet under water, hand signals, and buoyancy. IMG_7682Even on the overcast day, we had a blast and celebrated with cocktails at Saba Rock. We refilled our tanks, grabbed a cocktail and still had time to spare before we bore witness to the famous 5 pm tarpon feeding. It was my first time experiencing tarpon fish, 4 feet in length, duking it out for dinner bites cast out into the water. Tarpon are notorious for not being “tasty”, so for the most part, they appear to be slow and docile monsters. But toss a piece of shredded fish out to the water and they tear after the treat with furious speed and agility.

As always I *really* enjoyed our new anchorage, the Bitter End this time, but we had a beautiful down wind sail to make to meet our friends flying in to St. Thomas the next day.

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Spoiled in St. Martin

St. Martin was a short downwind leaping sail from St. Barts. En route we passed a curious island, which was mentioned in the guidebook. The island was once lush with green vegetation coating it from coast to coast. Unfortunately the goat population got out of hand and the goats ate the island barren. When it appeared the goats were beginning to starve, the humans intervened and began transporting them off the island. Now, the island is supposed to show signs of green…. But Mike and I could barely see these ‘signs of green’. We suspect there are some sneaky goats still eating their fill.

Our first landing was on the NW side in Grand Case, which drew us in for the renowned cuisine and carnival Tuesdays. It was a wide but deep harbor and we were both impressed with how flat the anchorage was. From the moment the anchor tugged snugly on the sandy bottom below, I felt at home. Yup, this will do for a week worth of boat work chores. We grabbed ribs and a beer at the closest bar to the dinghy dock (bbq so good it’ll make you cry) and numbered our projects and relaxed, making ourselves at home. We eventually slapped 2 coats of varnish, painted the v-drive, realigned the v-drive, fixed the mizzen boom (again), and genoa sheet block. Carnivale Tuesday finally came our way and the quaint town mainstreet opened up to hundreds of boutiques and food vendors. Music roared from the drum band and whistles while beautiful women wearing elaborate carnival costumes lead the stream of madness. The Heineken Regatta was to take place that week and 20 or so drunken racers made their jovial presence known…. To EVERYONE. We danced to a steeldrum band and drank the local rum punch meeting fellow cruisers left and right. With our fill of Grand Case fun it was time to meet with friends Acedia, Alpha Crucis, & Aggressive in Marigot Bay just 3 miles South.

Once we put in our hours/days of work and enjoyed our weight of chocolate almond croissants, we decided it was high time go and see St. Martin! There’s a famous lagoon in St. Martin, one side is French the other Dutch. The Dutch side is far more developed (green & red channel markers!!! what? haven’t seen those since Bermuda) and cater to the yachts (both mega and minor).  The French side is shallow and spacious – plenty of room to anchor. On the  NW side of the French lagoon resides a bit of a wayward mess; i.e. there’s a plethora of fixer-upers biding there time or on the slow march to becoming a reef down below.  We really enjoyed happy hour at Lagoonies, a bar on the Dutch side. In our meanderings we “won” a discounted vacation to a timeshare resort. We just had to listen to a pitch and received a free lunch and drinks and $50 to shop with. I got my St. Martin t-shirt and Mike bought his fill in hot sauce. Everyone was happy except for the sales rep.

St. Martin is shared by the Dutch and French, the Dutch side being significantly smaller in land mass. There’s a cute (yet clearly very accurate) story of how the French and Dutch divided the land amicably. One Frenchman and one Dutchman met and both decided to pick a drink of choice and march at opposite sides of the island walking inward. Wherever the two men met would be the border between the two nations. Two men agreed. The Frenchman obviously picked wine and the Dutch took whiskey. Whiskey, being the more potent of the two drinks caused the Dutchman to stagger and take a longer time to progress to the center of the island.

St. Barts – B.O.A.T Break Out Another Thousand $

While Statia wowed me with its history, St. Barts was the place to see the new glitzy and beautiful. 30 nautical miles NE of Statia stands the capital, Gustavia. We skipped over Gustavia and anchored in Colombier which was fairly protected. There are 15-18DSC_0237 mooring balls in place so boats don’t anchor in the seabed of grass. Anchors dig into & drag through sand, in turn destroying roots for seagrass and marine life. Sea turtles survive off of seagrass…. Thus, this anchorage is a protected turtle reserve. So of course, after sitting on our mooring ball for 15 minutes a 50 foot catamaran comes racing in and decides to drop anchor in between the rows of tightly packed mooring balls. I cringe and shake my head at the lack of consideration as to where they are about to anchor. The behemoth of a boat tried anchoring 3 times before the owners of the neighboring boats jumped up to tell them they were too close and to anchor elsewhere.

We took the 1.5 mile dinghy ride over to Gustavia to check in and explore the ritz and glitz. Sure enough, beautiful exorbitant yachts and even some ugly exorbitant yachts lined every inch of marine real estate. On land store after store filled with rows of rolexes shined brilliantly and clothes attached to price tags with far too many numbers before the decimal point hung perfectly. Boaters have a saying that BOAT is an acronym of a lifestyle…. Break Out Another Thousand – for boat repairs/maintenance what have you. The idea of shopping in St. Barts reminded me of this acronym. I found the gelato and local bar more accommodating to my preferences. We enjoyed Colombier immensely. Gustavia was a nice visit but really a busy and bumpy harbor to stay the night.

Home is where the anchor catches

The fourth time I moved, I was finishing High School and my new home was now Singapore, Singapore down the street from the Indian Embassy. It was by far the most “exotic” of places the Sward family had called home. I attended Singapore American School, a prestigious international school of which I was grateful to let me in. I started the school year a few days late but I remember the first day of my creative writing class. The teacher asked us to write a one page essay with a simple prompt of: ‘Where is home?’ It was such a simple question but then she opened the topic for discussion to the class. There were Americans, Indians, Swedes, Indonesians, Malay, Aussies, Thai, French, Swiss, English, Philipino… all with different stories on how many times they’ve moved and background. The question quickly changed to… ‘what constitutes as a home and why.’IMG_2976

Mike and I have both lived in Boston for over a decade (or just about) and we tell people we’re from Boston…. But truth be told… Mike grew up in California and me… well I’m from New York originally, which I know, makes me a public enemy #2 in the eyes of a true Bostonian (we all know, public enemy #1 is reserved for the entire Yankees team). We travel from harbor to harbor with our hailing port written clearly on our transom under the boats name for all to see. And it’s a happy surprise when you see another American flag and a nearby port. In St. Barts we were dinghying back to the boat when another sailboat hailed us to come over. Two American men said they were from Danvers and Waltham and they saw we were from Boston. They just wanted to say hi. And that is a perfect example of cruising life. If you’re a boat in a port… you are fair game for another boat to come over and say hi. Sometimes it leads to a beer other times it’s a fly-by hello.DSC_0282

With all this traveling and meeting strangers who become friends, I’ve been ruminating the concept of home again. It’s here, right now on Gaia with Mike. And this gives me a great sense of pride and abounding happiness. We made this home happen. Home isn’t a city for us right now. It’s a transom, a bow, a mast, a few sails (and a Mike McLinn). Home is wondering if I put the bilge pump back on after a sail. Home is conserving water and monitoring our batteries. Home is jumping into tropical waters and swimming with fish. But most of all home is definitely where the anchor catches in the sand.

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Salt Shakers & Other Cruiser Issues

Most of my posts have been updates on our general day to day journey. This is a little different.

Recently we laid anchor to some unforgiving harbors where the boat was flung to and fro by northerly swells (Northerly swells brought on by strong storms in the North). Those sleepless nights allowed me to contemplate our cruising life, it’s difficulties, and differences to land life. Here’s my general list of boat life hassles.

  1. Gravity is a pain. Lobbing waves that smack against your hull lifting your entire home at odd angles, suddenly propelling the wine bottle across the table or water jug onto the floor. At anchor, sometimes you get a great big wake at 5 or 6 am and all you can think about is that full glass of water on the counter you left overnight. And you will the glass of water to fight against the urge to topple over splashing to the floor. Sometimes it works other times….. you hear a clamoring of pots and pans that crumble about the drying area. My favorite was when we were sailing, healed far over en route to Gaudeloupe and the latch to our pantry cupboard flew open. In this unforeseen event the BBQ sauce bottle decided to leap out hit the other side of the wall and spray all over the salon (living room).
  1. Cumbersome dinghies- houses have a front door and boats have a transom (theIMG_7407 butt of a boat). Gaia has a flat high transom with two flat latches that provide a “foot hold”. For all you climbers, it’s a V0 move. Dropping your feet onto a moving bouncing target can make grocery runs a little difficult. That said, grocery runs are a 4 part process, complete with balance, water, and squats. 1. Lock the boat climb into dinghy, dinghy to land and lock up dinghy. 2. Walk to the grocery store and grocery shop. 3. Carry groceries into dinghy, unlock dinghy, and dinghy back home. 4. Lift the groceries on deck, secure dinghy unlock the boat and put the food away. Big unsmiley face for dropping a grocery bag or having it tear while hoisting the bag on deck.
  1. Salt. Ah yes, good ole NaCl. On a boat, no matter salthow much rice you put in your salt shaker, the salt always builds up and clumps due to the moisture in the air,
    preventing it from coming out. Every time I go to a restaurant I continually make the same mistake of shaking salt out like it’s not really going to fall out.

 

  1. Cleaning & Chores – If you assume, it’s a small area, not much cleaning required. Think again my severely disillusioned friend. Dust, sand, and dirt coat the floor maddeningly quickly. Moving one or two things out of place seems to clutter the entire boat. Above all, boat chores also consist of filling up the water tanks, refilling propane tanks, topping off diesel for the engine, and filling up gas for the dinghy. Entire days have been dedicated to finding and ferrying laundry back and forth and refilling water. This week in St. Maartin, we plan on scrubbing algae and seaweed from the waterline (because clean bottoms haul @ss), varnishing 2 coats (full 2 day process L), fixing the genoa sheet blocks, painting the V-drive and shaft, and sewing screens and resewing the bimini. Then we can go to Maho beach in St. Martin…
  1. Rolling Anchorages – an exposed anchorage can make or break a location for us. I LOVED Montserrat but couldn’t handle the swells. We spent two sleepless nights in Montserrat and the morning we left, I laid in the Vbirth my entire body being swung from side to side just waiting for the sun to rise so we could leave. In St. Eustatius (Statia), I was feeling a little nauseous from the constant rolling. We put out a stern anchor so our bow would cut through the oncoming waves. Thankfully the swells lessened over the next two nights.
  1. Fear of bugs. Like all homes we fear infestation from cockroaches and ants. They’re damn sneaky and very common. Even in buying toilet paper and carrying it aboard you may be inviting unwanted friends. If anything is wrapped in cardboard, we leave that on land.
  2. Unfamiliar noises. Listening on a boat is really important. It’s often times, the first telltale of some greater issue at hand. Like when I awoke at 5 AM in Deshaies to a light THUD. It wasn’t the low crumbling of anchor chain, and the boat moved oddly. I poked my head up to see a light and a bow of another boat at our beam! We were slowly dancing around and had inevitably bumped into our steal-hull boat neighbor. The wind had died and in a cramped anchorage the boats were dancing around at odd angles. We both jumped up turned the engine on and moved away from the other boat.

c0041039_1621611In a nutshell, the hardships of a boat: At any given moment something will break and consequences can range from life threatening to a simple ‘crud’, you may be sleep deprived from a “rolly” anchorage, your home will be a mess half the time, your food may come flying out of the pantry while under way (sailing) or at anchor, and salt shakers don’t work. BUT for those days and nights where food and water isn’t propelled across the room, when you have full water, propane, fuel, and gas, and the seas are calm and the anchorage flat…. The saltshaker still doesn’t work…. (true) aaaand it’s really heavenly. Lastly, to meet other sailors with their own stories is a real treat.

friends

I stole this from Lisa on fb (the designated national geographic photographer). Hope you don’t mind 😉

We’re Not Lost, We’re on an Island

Sailing from White House St. Kitts to Statia was an active sail. St. Kitts’ towering mountains forced the wind to funnel around the harbor at odd angles forcing sail changes every 30 minutes. Once we were in “open” water, the northerly swells hit us but we were still cruising along at 6.7 -7.1 knots.

I had my nose in a book so when I saw Statia (St. Eustatius) it was impressive. Straight from the coastline the island shoots straight up a few hundred feet. A slab of limestone greets you from the Southeast known as the White Wall. DSC_0103

We came to Statia a bit hesitant since the anchorage is rather unprotected and subject to a “bumpy night” if there are sea swells from the North (which there was). Unfortunately, even with a stern anchor out, the rolls could not be ignored and were bothersome. Any trepidation I had for the anchorage left me the second we grabbed a mooring and I looked up at Oranjestad. This place was positively medieval and captured my attention.

What makes the island so fascinating (to me at least) is the history. The Dutch islandStatia trade was an integral international trading post (duty free) between the 17-19 centuries.
Hundreds of ships would dock/anchor in the bustling harbor ready to sell, barter, and buy between the Spanish, Dutch, English, and Americans (even during wartime periods). The coast looked very different back then with stone trading posts lining the harbor. “Their defense was their utility.” Even now, there are old stone foundations everywhere on this island.

DSC_0208St. Eustatius was also the first to salute the United States as a sovereign nation (yay!). Back in the day when a ship came into port with it’s colors flying high they would shoot a few cannons to announce their arrival. The receiving port would fire back a friendly fire to welcome the new vessel. The greater number of canon shots the greater the respect for the nation and captain onboard. English hotshot, Admiral Rodney received word of the historic salute, and the British had enough of these “neutral Dutch” providing the enemy Americans with arms and provisions. Admiral Rodney attacked IMG_7587Statia and pilfered the lucrative trading port. It’s said Rodney was suspicious of his “loot” and noticed there was an oddly high amount of burials taking place. He ordered
his men to open up the caskets only to find…. the towns riches being hidden below ground. As if that’s not enough, Rodney ransacked the Jewish quarters and noticed the people were heavily dressed. He sliced the pockets and hems of their coats. The Jewish townsmen had sewn their coins into the inseams of their clothing. Rodney got that too. What. A. Jerk. (Jewish quarter pictured right>)