Monday, December 14, 2009

St. Kits

Waiting for the wind to calm down a bit, we pulled into the Marina in
St. Kitts. Port Zante is the main cruise ship dock and is just around
the corner from us. It's a pleasure to be able to step off the boat
whenever you feel like it. The main roundabout in the downtown is
called "the circus" and it features a large green clock that also
serves as a drinking fountain. We heard about some horse racing going
on at the new Belmont race track and decided to go check it out. A
true caribbean syle experience. Gates opened at 11am and the first
race to start at 2pm. We arrived around three and were not too
concerned that we had missed the first two races - then we realized
that they were only running four race all together! It seemed like
everyone on the island was there. There was lots of time for people
watching as the wait between races was a hour. Lots of time to place
your bets expect there was no betting. Lot's of Carib drinking though.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Never Know Who You'll Meet

Walking around St. John's - the main town in Antigua is always
interesting. They love President Obama here. Last year the street
vendors had all kinds of Obama swag. T-shirts, and posters and coffee
mugs - you name it. We ran into this cabbie who had the latest in
Obamawear on. Later we met a very enterprising fellow with his
donkeys. Who wouldn't want a picture taken with the baby donkey. Roy
sure did. Not quite like a stroll around Kensington.

Riviere Salee, Guadeloupe

Four in the morning start time. Nothing happens on Bonanza without
coffee. So we had to set the alarm early to get functional in time for
the five o'clock bridge opening. Guadeloupe is known as the Butterfly
Island because it looks like one. The two halves of the island are
separated by a mangrove swamp with a passage through called the Rivier
Sale. Going up the river shortens the trip up island by about fifty
miles. The guide book says to approach this journey as an adventure,
not a short cut. Hmmm. Could it be that the depths are really skinny
even for a boat with a draft of five feet? Hope you don't mind the
depth sounder alarm going off every few minutes. Or is it that the
bridge only opens at the crack of dawn, before the morning rush hour
on this French island goes into full swing? How much of an adventure
depends on your perspective.

We head up as close to the bridge as we can and drop anchor around
four in the afternoon. Enough time to jump into the dingy and blast up
the river with the handheld depth sounder and camera in hand. A
wonderland of mangrove channels and openings that lead to lakes and
rivers and islands, filled with egrets and frigate birds and who knows
what else! The main channel is well marked with red and green bouys,
seems so straight forward in the daylight with no other traffic. The
next morning all four boats in the anchorage are underway by five
minutes to five. The first boat in the line up is a Hunter sailboat
and unfortunately, they don't seem to have any lights on. This makes
it difficult for the next boat in line; Voyageur C to divine their
next move. We are the third boat in the channel and are keeping well
back of all the stopping and starting in front of us. Soon we have
both opening bridges behind us and are into the slalom course around
the red and green markers. The full moon is just setting as the sun
rises. We emerge into the bay at the mouth of the river and find the
sea is flat calm. Big rain storms loom on the horizon, but they move
so slowly – just drifting along. We know that sooner or later those
dark skys will catch up to us, but in those first moments of daylight,
the high clouds look spectacular. We'll deal with the rain and wind
later. For now though, we just enjoy the view.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Random Weather

So there you are, sailing along the coast of Martinique admiring the
beautiful Mt. Pelee volcano. The sea is beautifully smooth and the
winds are favorable. You go below to make a quick snack and not 45
minutes later things have really changed! Not a sight you want to see
from the cockpit. This is a rain squall coming over the island. Looks
more like a monster at the door. Oddly it drifted towards us carrying
very little wind. Instead of packing a punch, the rain and clouds just
fell apart right over top of us. Whew!

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Point A Pitre, Guadeloupe

Our incredible weather luck continued for two more passages. From St.
Lucia we carried on a few days later to Dominica. The day after that,
we arrived in the Saints, a group of small islands just off the coast
of Guadeloupe. With Voyageur C, Allegro, Hoof Beats, and Discovery
were all there at anchorage. Great to see the friends again and just
in time for American Thnaksgiving Dinner. No problem finding room for
twelve people onboard Hoof Beats - a 54 foot Beneteau. It's always
fun to check out another boat especially when dinner is included.

We didn't get a chance to stop and buy food in Martinique so now is
the time to stock up before we leave behind all the great French food
and endless variety of French wine. Deals are to be had at the giant
Cora food store down the road. Dave from Daniell Story actually
radioed over to Voyageur C to request they pick up some beer for him.
You just can't get the super cans of German beer in St. Thomas for
less than a euro each! Saturday is Market day in Point a Pitrie so we
delayed the trip to Cora and spent time in the city. Fish market,
flower market, spice market and the incredible 100,000 Chasseurs shoe
store kept us busy all day.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Rodney Bay, St. Lucia

How did we get here so fast? It's the wind. Pure, simple and
beautiful. We haven't had superb sailing conditions like this for a
long, long time. So exhilarating to head out onto the ocean with the
wind on the beam and the seas smooth and organized.

We pulled up the anchor after a calm night in the town anchorage and
headed up island along the coast. Grenada is rugged and mountainous
right to the shore in most places, so it is a pleasure to motor along
close in shore. It's best to not venture too far out because the wind
doesn't get any more consistent and the swell kicks up quickly. The
current did us a favor and stayed flowing in the same direction as we
were going adding an extra knot to our speed. Sweet. Out into the
waters between Grenada and Carriacou the conditions held. A beautiful
sail in the open sea. Some waves, but mostly smooth going. Really
Sweet. By passing Tyrell Bay, we rounded the point and headed into
Hillsborough. This is a great place to check out of the country and
stage for the next day's passage North.

We lowered the dingy and took some time to have a look around since
the bay was super calm. We'd noticed a little cove on the North end of
the island that had some sort of kiosk on the beach. We headed that
direction to check it out. Gliding over the aqua blue warm water, you
could see right to the bottom. Lots of corals, fish and rocks and
blues and greens…beautiful. We rounded the last corner and were
surprised by a flock of pelicans sitting on a rocky outcrop. It's a
bit of a rare sight to see these birds so far south. They didn't like
us coming so close. Especially, the oldest bird. He thought about
holding his ground, but eventually he lost his nerve and flew a few
yards away. Not a smooth exit either, poor guy. He looked a bit
arthritic especially on take off.

We saw that a sailboat was anchored around the corner of the bay.
Great lines and very well appointed. Coho was the name. Wait just a
minute. Coho is the name of a boat Melissa had told us about when we
were back in Calgary. She said to keep an eye out for her friends who
were also sailing in the Caribbean. And here they were. Funny small
world out here on the water. We went by to say hi and Roy took a quick
photo to send on to Melissa. We never made it to shore to see the
kiosk, maybe next time. We headed back to Bonanza to get ready for
tomorrow's sail.

Underway early the next morning we had plenty of time to waffle over
which island we should head for next. The weather made the decision
for us. Again a near perfect day sailing. Out came the full main sail
and the jib sail. Leaning over smartly, we must have looked great
sailing along. We sure felt great. Up towards Union Island we noticed
that we couldn't make it around the west side of Palm Island so we
pick a course that took us east of Mayreau - one of our favorite
places. We talked about stopping at Salt Whistle Bay until we saw that
it was filled with six or seven very large catamarans. It's a tiny
place with close quarters at the best of time. We weren't willing to
elbow our way through that crowed. Besides, who didn't want to keep a
good ride going? We were making great time once again! This is the
type of sailing I dream of, but haven't experienced in a good long
while. Cruising past Glossy Point on Canouan we were now bound for
Bequia.

Arriving at Admiralty Bay anchorage well before dark we enjoyed
watching the sunset from a familiar spot that we love. Roy had a
craving for the now famous - in his mind- Roti dinner at the Porthole
Restaurant. Our friend Phil introduced us to this island standard made
with extra love and sold for the unheard price of nine dollars and
thirty cents EC. Eastern Caribbean dollars that is. Good for you and a
good deal too.

Awake at five am. Should we try our luck on a third day of sailing?
OK, let's have coffee and see how it looks. Chris Parker's weather
forecast is calling for increasing squalls of 20 to 30 knots. The sky
looks a bit ominous, but this is not unusual first thing in the
morning. Usually the weather clears out after the sun comes up. If we
don't leave now, we'll probably end up waiting for the seas to calm
down for a few days longer than we'd like. Ok, let's go. We motor out
into the Bequia Blast. This section of water is notorious for being
choppy, windy, filled with current and generally unpleasant. Not today
though. Today the water is smoothish. The swells are coming through on
our beam, nice and regular. A few rain showers creep up behind us, but
nothing with any wind in it. Once the breeze comes back after the
rain, we motor sail up the coast of St. Vincent. Like Grenada, this
coast is steep and rugged to the water's edge. The views are
incredible, especially with the misty volcanic mountain peaks looming
along the shore. A strange rainbow appears to the east. Strange
because it arches low in the sky; almost touching the water along it's
length.

As we head out from behind St. Vincent, our good weather luck runs
out. Here comes a giant dark cloud. No getting out of this one. We are
going to get brushed by a larger than usual squall. If you've ever
been caught by a squall you know all the signs, and this one was a
classic. The first few gusts reach the boat just as you are trying to
drop the side curtains of the enclosure. Oddly cool gusts of wind
begin to gather speed. As the cloud reaches overhead the light level
drops dramatically and then the real wind arrives. We had only the
full main sail up, so we were able to turn the boat downwind as the
velocity increased rapidly. Thirty knots and above does very dramatic
things to the water. First the swells go kind of flat as the tops of
the waves get blown off and the horizontal rain cuts into them too.
The sound in the rigging also lets you know the wind is up by
whistling a tune that is far, far, far from pleasant. After an
amazingly short time the waves begin to build up. Literally, the water
piles up fast into larger and larger waves. Not so bad when they are
on the beam or behind, but truly scary when they are coming from the
front of the boat. This is why you just turn downwind. Sure, some will
hold the course. Not me. I turn downwind trying to reach a compromise
between staying headed in the right direction and not peeing my pants.

Of course, if you manage to hold the course the big benefit is the
increase in speed. Flying along with the strong wind powers the boat
at a vastly improved speed. And the thing to remember in the darkness
of this type of weather is that it won't last. All the drama is
usually over in about 15 minutes. This time while the rain quickly
moved on, we were left with the strong wind for the rest of the trip.
We were able to put the 25 miles of open ocean behind us in record
time. The south coast of St. Lucia, with it's stunning Pitons was
quickly appearing beside us. By nightfall we were tucked into Rodney
Bay feeling like we had gotten away with something. Three great days
of travel with only minor dramas along the way. We were exhilarated an
exhausted.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

More Launch

No problem getting up at the crack of dawn when you've already been in
bed for hours. The sun is coming up at six am and the day is clear,
but not cool. Far from it. The temperature is already over 80 degrees.
We're feeling the heat, not moving all that quickly already. We
initiate our regular routine of coffee and the morning radio weather
shows. The regular suspects were a bit hard to hear this morning. No
copy at all on Eric in Trinidad who usually does a good job giving
upcoming weather in this part of the Caribbean and very light copy on
Chris Parker; the guru of weather forecast for the cruising sailor. I
did pick up Bill from Voyager C doing net control for the Coconut
Telegraph Net. Nice to hear a familiar voice.


After not thinking about the generator, it's time to investigate the
problem. Westerbeke generators are simple machines that come with
excellent instruction manuals. After mulling over the possibilities,
we decide to pop off the top of the cooling reservoir and see if that
makes the pink coolant drain into the system. No easy task because
everything in the back lazerette must be emptied out to gain access to
the machine. Then I go in first to see if I can get the cap off, but
no luck. It's stuck and takes a Roy size grip to get it to let go.
Once the cap is off we pour more of the liquid into the hose. Yup,
that's it. Must have been an air bubble from sitting there not doing
anything for four months. It always amazes me that you can leave
things in perfect working order and a few months later…all these
mysterious problem crop up. Strange.

We realize that we didn't finish with the main sail yesterday. So down
it comes again so that we can rig up the Dutchman system. Don't ask.
All I'll say is that the Dutchman wasn't all that smart and it seems
like he likes a really complicated system to do a very simple job. It
takes over an hour to sort out the Dutchman. Now it's noon and time
for another swim.

There's still lots of time to make it around Point Salinas and into
the anchorage outside of St. Georges. We want to leave tomorrow for
Carriacou. We head out of Hog Island anchorage into a brisk wind
coming from behind. We roll out the jib sail and head directly West
enjoying a smooth reach that lasts us all the way around the point and
into the bay at St. Georges. Beautiful. Now we are sailing at last.

The Launch

The last two days have been super busy. After spending time commuting
to the boat from the Grenada Grand hotel, yesterday we moved onboard.
Good bye Fantasy pool, hello mosquitoes and the still hot tropical
night. Fixing the screens for the hatches has definitely moved up on
the fix it list.

We woke up in the boat yard. Bonanza sits about six feet off the
ground when resting on the keel. Add another six feet or more, and
that's how far up we climb to get onboard. It's unnerving. Funny how
when we are on the water it feels completely different. Only about six
feet to the water and then who cares how deep it is! Water is so much
more forgiving than dirt.

Our launch time was scheduled for 8 am and just after the crew arrived
with the "Stacker". This is a machine used to move boats around the
yard when the quarters are tight. I call it the "Tongs". They
position the "tongs" on either side of the boat and engage three sets
of stands to hold on to the keel. Once set up, the "tongs" lift the
boat and maneuver it into position so the travel lift can move it
along to the boat launch area. Once in position, the travel lift takes
over and move two giant slings under the keel. Next the hydraulic arms
start up, the boat is picked up and driven into the boat launch.
Slings are lowered and next thing you know, the boat is floating and
ready to be driven out into the bay.

So there we were d riving into Prickly Bay with all systems "go"…so
far. Prickly is not one of our favorite anchorages. It rolls. Horribly
some days. The day we launched was no different. The swell was evident
almost the moment we left the launch. Our plan was to drive the boat
around to the more protected anchorage at Hog Island. We dropped
anchor right in front of a boat called Sea Witch. She's a permanent
resident of Hog Island, but the crew was no where to be seen. We
recognized a few of the lifer boats like Lilly Maid, High Elk, Wild
Vanilla and Bird of Passage. We know the crew on a few of these boats,
others we just recognize the names.

The next big step is to hoist the dingy off the bow of the boat and
wrestle it into the water. I would have taken some pictures of this
procedure, but my hands were quite full. After doing this job a few
times, I realized that tying a guide rope to the end of the dingy
would be a big help. This way I was able to guide the 10 foot
inflatable over the lifelines and back into the water beside the boat
as Roy hauled it up and back down using the main halyard. A finely
honed procedure that went remarkably well this t time. As you can
imagine, this task can quickly end in disaster if poorly executed. I
guess we have learned a thing or two over the years.

Dingy launched and outboard attached. Check that the engine starts and runs.
Now it's time for the generator start-up. It cranks and runs then
overheats and stops. Hmmm. Could the empty coolant reservoir have
anything to do with this? Probably. Hopefully. We decide to not think
about the generator problem for now.

Instead we move on to the sails. All sails are taken off and stored
below deck for the hurricane season. Putting the main sail, jib sail
and cutter sail back on is about a three hour project. The trick is to
remember how things came off and then to put them back on in the same
order. At first it's hard to even remember which lines go to which
sails. Of course, you always end up with a mysterious spare. Last year
we cut up the "spare" line to secure the diesel cans on deck. A few
days after we did this we realized that we had chopped up the furling
line for the cutter sail by mistake. Oh, that's what that "spare" line
was for. Now we have a one week cooling off period before any new cuts
are made. We manage to get all the sails and lines and sheets back in
the right spots. Now we are really hot and tired and cranky, so we go
for a swim off the back of the boat. Oh yeah, this is one of the
reasons we do all this work…

We decide to go for a quick dingy ride to say hello to some fellow
Canadian sailors that we met just as we were leaving in July. Doug and
Wendy of Nihini River had just arrived in Grenada with their new
catamaran they had just picked up in St. Vincent. We wanted to hear
about their four month adventure of living in the Port Louis Marina.
I'm not sure I'd enjoy that myself. After a quick chat it's back to
the boat for dinner. We are tired and ready for our first night at
anchor in the calm anchorage of Hog Island.
No problem getting up at the crack of dawn when you've already been in
bed for 9 hours. The sun is coming up at six am and the day is clear,
but not cool. Far from it. The temperature is already over 80 degrees.
We're feeling the heat, no moving all that quickly already. We
initiate our regular routine of coffee and the morning radio weather
shows. The regular suspects were a bit hard to hear this morning. No
copy at all on Eric in Trinidad who usually does a good job giving
upcoming weather in this part of the Caribbean and very light copy on
Chris Parker; the guru of weather forecast for the cruising sailor. I
did pick up Bill from Voyager C doing net control for the Coconut
Telegraph Net. Nice to hear a familiar voice.


After not thinking about the generator, it's time to investigate the
problem. Westerbeke generators are simple machines that come with
excellent instruction manuals. After mulling over the possibilities,
we decide to pop off the top of the cooling reservoir and see if that
makes the pink coolant drain into the system. No easy task because
everything in the back lazerette must be emptied out to gain access to
the machine. Then I go in first to see if I can get the cap off, but
no luck. It's stuck and takes a Roy size grip to get it to let go.
Once the cap is off we pour more of the liquid into the hose. Yup,
that's it. Must have been an air bubble from sitting there no doing
anything for four months. It always amazes me that you can leave
things in perfect working or and a few months later…all these
mysterious problem crop up. Strange.

We realize that we didn't finish with the mail sail yesterday. So down
it comes again so that we can rig up the Dutchman system. Don't ask.
All I'll say is that the Dutchman wasn't all that smart and it seems
like he likes a really complicated system to do a very simple job. It
takes over an hour to sort out the Dutchman. Now it's noon and time
for another swim.

There's still lots of time to make it around Point Salinas and into
the anchorage outside of St. Georges. We want to leave tomorrow for
Carriacou. We head out of Hog Island anchorage into a brisk wind
coming from behind. We roll out the jib sail and head directly West
enjoying a smooth reach that lasts us all the way around the point and
into the bay at St. Georges. Beautiful. Now we are sailing at last.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Back to Grenada

Oh, to be back in Grenada again. It's Sunday night and we are on the
hard at Spice Island Marine waiting to get put back into the water
tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, we've spent several days cleaning and
chasing bugs. Getting the boat back into travelling shape is a major
undertaking. There is much coming and going up the ladder. Into the
boat and back out of the boat...etc. And it's hot here. Really hot.
After enjoying the snow earlier in Calgary it is quite the temperature
change. Can't wait to get out on the water!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Trouble in Dominica

Trouble in Portsmouth Anchorage: Dominicans Respond Quickly to Yacht Boarding.

I am awake. Faint reggae music is playing somewhere on shore, but not
loud enough to wake me up. So, why am I up? It's 1:30 AM and I am
tempted to just roll over and go back to sleep, but while on board I
usually poke my head out the hatch and have a look around. Bonanza,
our 40 foot Island Packet sits calmly in this new anchorage after
rolling relentlessly for the two previous nights. Imagine trying to
fall asleep while holding on tightly to the bed frame. Swell creeping
into the anchorage tips our mono hull from side to side in a graduated
pattern of increasing intensity. It begins with a slow, gentle motion
that escalates into a full blown washing machine like experience which
then subsides completely for a few seconds before starting all over
again. You get the picture. So since moving to another part of Prince
Rupert Bay here in Dominica, we were very happy to be sleeping.

While I ponder leaving the bed, I hear a different noise mixed in with
the music. Sounds like a horn…a bit anemic but distinct. I count the
blows; one, two, three, four, five. Now I am up! Five blasts on a horn
are considered a distress call. Coming up into the cockpit I spot a
sailboat moving along slowly behind us. Someone is on deck at the bow
and the horn is sounding again. My sleep addled brain is slowly
registering the situation. The only thing I can imagine is that it is
drifting. Maybe the anchor broke loose? I call over, "Are you adrift?"
Someone shouts back, "We've been robbed. They've taken the dinghy, our
radio, cell phones, everything. Can you help us?"

Oh my! Not good. "We are launching our dinghy and we will come right
over" I shout back. Roy is now taking in the situation as I realize
that we've seen this boat. Earlier, Roy and I had chatted briefly with
the British couple on board. As we passed by their boat I asked if
they noticed any swell in the night. He said no, he hadn't, but they
had just arrived from an over-nighter from St. Martin. Nothing usually
bothers us when we are that tired, he said. I wondered why they had
decided to drop the hook in this particular spot; somewhat distant
from other boats. Maybe they wanted a bit of privacy?

We decided to anchor several hundred yards to the South of them, close
to two other sailboats just off the old pier at the Portsmouth Beach
Hotel. Our friends on two other cruising boats also relocated here.
Along with Daniell Storey and Voyageur C we were five boats in that
area.

Roy and I managed to launch our dinghy in record time. We gathered up
a VHF handheld radio and a million candle-power search light. Then we
headed over to Daniell Storey. Dave has a cell phone and his main VHF
radio would have much more range than a handheld one. He said he'd
stand-by on Channel 16 as Roy and I headed over to Clypeus with the
cell phone.

John was standing on deck when we pulled up. He told us that he and
his wife Suzanne had been attacked and robbed by two men armed with
cutlasses and another one baring a pistol. The three armed men swam
out from the shore and boarded the boat while John was sleeping below
and Suzanne was in the cockpit. Both cruisers were held down by the
two men with cutlasses while the third robber ransacked the boat. They
demanded money and jewelry. They grabbed all their electronics; cell
phones, computers, and radios. Then they loaded up the dinghy with the
stolen goods and took off. The cruisers were left with no radio or
cell phone or even a dinghy to use to get help.

After firing off an orange flare that failed to draw a response or
attention, John decided to pull up anchor and head for the nearest
people. That is how "Clypeus" came to be dropping anchor just off our
stern at two in the morning.

I handed John our VHF radio to make a distress call to the coast guard
and climbed on board to see how Suzanne was doing. Roy decided to go
and search along the shoreline to see if he could spot the stolen
dinghy. Maybe it had been abandoned close by.

I stepped down into the most chaotic cockpit and salon I had ever
seen. It looked like the boat had come through a storm. Piles of gear,
clothes, kitchen wares, and papers were strewn across the cabin. Even
the trash had been emptied into the mix. Suzanne seemed a little dazed
as she searched through a plastic bin for something. John came in
saying no one was answering his VHF call and lay out on the settee. It
was obvious his back hurt and Suzanne was looking for some pain
killers in their medicine kit. Either he had been injured it the fight
with the robbers or he had hurt it by pulling up the anchor. He wasn't
sure which.

Suddenly I heard Dave's voice on the radio. Being right next door he
had heard John call for help, but obviously the coast guard had not.
We gave Dave the particulars of the boat and the incident and he was
able to relay this information as a PAN PAN call which was picked up
by the Martinique Coast Guard at Fort de France. Dave was also able to
make a general announcement call in the anchorage to alert fellow
cruisers that there had been trouble.

Having no luck with the radio, it was time to get on the cell phone. I
could not find an emergency or police number in the guide book.
Luckily, I recognized Eddison Laville's name listed in a phone
directory for the Leeward Islands. Eddison is the vice president of
Portsmouth Association for Yacht Security and an Indian River Guide.
Roy and I had met him on our way through Dominica a few months
earlier. The association sponsors a program that keeps up a dinghy
patrol of the main anchorage. Unfortunately, the security patrol does
not have a VHF radio, so they did not hear our calls. Eddison picked
on the second ring and quickly pointed us in the right direction. By
the time we called police dispatch they already seemed to know about
the incident. I repeated that we were out in the anchorage on a boat.
They assured me that help was on the way. John, Suzanne and I were all
skeptical that someone would be along anytime soon.

As John got up from the settee I notice that he had something around
his neck. They both had been taped up with duct tape and the sticky,
grey stuff still clung to them. John had rolled the tape down from his
mouth creating a grotesque necklace. Four or five strips of the sticky
grey plastic clung to the back and sides of Suzanne's super curly
hair. Out came the scissors and I took off as much tape and as little
hair as I could.

I was relieved to hear the sound of a dinghy engine approaching. Roy
had been gone for what felt like a long time. He had returned along
with some company. Two American students studying at the island's
medical school had seen the orange flare from Clypeus and heard the
shouts for help. They called the incident into campus security who
then called police. They had lingered on the beach and were able to
flag Roy down as he passed by in the dinghy. Turns out these two are
EMT second year students – in training to attend medical emergencies.
They immediately turned their attention to John and Suzanne.

A few minutes after the EMT students arrived so did the Dominican
Coast Guard. Flashing blue search lights lit up the entire anchorage
as they pulled along side in their 30 foot RIB (rigid inflatable
boat). I was amazed. It had been less than an hour since my phone call
and these guys had come from their base in Roseau about 15 miles down
the coast. One officer came on board and told Suzanne and John that an
ambulance was ready to take them to the hospital if they wanted to go.
That wouldn't be necessary John said; they would make their way to the
clinic in the morning. The three coast guard officers where very
concerned and ready to help. All eyes grew wide with surprise when the
EMT student handed over the pistol that he had found in the cockpit.
It looked like a pellet gun or 22 masquerading as a hand gun. Who
knows if it could fire or not, it looked real enough. The Coast Guard
took the gun, asked a few more questions then went off to collect the
Portsmouth Police officers from the dock. With no access to their own
boat, they were waiting for a ride out to the Clypeus so they could
begin their investigation. It seemed the situation was well in hand.
Roy and I decided to head back to Bonanza.

The next morning we heard that Clypeus' dinghy had been recovered by
the coast guard boat after they dropped the Police officers back on
shore. It was a relief to know that John and Suzanne could get to and
from their boat once again. Both sailors where treated at the
hospital; John for back injuries and Suzanne for a possible
concussion.

Everyone was stunned at the level of violence used in this robbery. It
had been a long time since anything like this has happened in Dominica
and the people are shocked and angry, especially those involved in the
tourist industry. Response to this incident has gone beyond law
enforcement agencies and local community groups. The Minister of
Tourism and the director of the Discover Dominica Authority personally
came out to see how the people on Clypeus were doing. They assured
them that the investigation of the robbery had high priority and was
being taken very seriously. In fact, the police had arrested a suspect
and they expected more arrests to come. The officials even came by to
thank me and Roy for helping out.

So now what? It was a shocking experience to witness the aftermath of
such a violent robbery. I can't imagine what it's like for John and
Suzanne to try to get over what happened to them. They've sailed the
Caribbean for over fifteen years and never expected anything like this
to happen to them. Nobody does. Yes, I feel more fearful, but not to
the point where I want to stop sailing.

I do feel that it's time for us to take a few more basic security
precautions on board. Most cruisers lift and lock their dinghy at
night. Very few cruisers lock their door at night, but I can tell you,
Roy and I have no problem putting in the companionway boards and
throwing the lock on the hatch once we are ready to go to sleep. We'll
also be back next year to visit Dominica, one of our favorite places
in the Caribbean. Even if the swell rolls in, we'll stick to the
patrolled anchorage and feel secure knowing that the community and
authorities in Portsmouth and throughout Dominica take cruisers safety
seriously.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Perfect Disguise

 
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Can you see the lizard on the tree?

Monday, May 11, 2009

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Easter Jump-up in Bequia

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Sailing South

Ah, yes. It all looks so peaceful and beautiful, doesn't it? The sun setting, the soft slap of the waves on the hull as the sails drive the boat through the water. The crew introspective as they contemplate the waning day.




Cut to four hours later when night has fallen, the winds have built and now the reefed sails are moaning as if possessed by witches. Ah, yes...this is sailing too. I don't seem to take as many pictures when I'm distracted by hectic conditions.

This sail south was supposed to be a chance to do a 48 hour non-stop passage. Of course since we were headed south, the wind would be on the beam, or even behind us. Wouldn't it? Plans changed about 10 minutes outside of St. Martin when we realized that our back-up GPS was not cooperating. We like our Garmond handheld device because it gives us the security of a second way to pinpoint our location and it also features various entertaining options to play with during the long hours underway. It also saves the guy who isn't behind the instruments from asking; how fast are we going? where is the wind coming from? what is our COG? You can imagine this gets old pretty quick. So no back up GPS and no favorite toy ten minutes into a long, long journey.

By the end of the first day we decide to drop anchor in Ballast Bay, St. Kitts to regroup. Read: Get over the loss of our favorite GPS and find the old other backup GPS. Redundancy is good when it comes to boat electronics. We get to the anchorage after dark, but it isn't crowded so we are able to find a spot without incident. We sleep. We get going the next morning - heading once again to Bequia, SVG. Really this time.

By night fall the weather is definitely not behaving as advertised. Instead of the 10-15 wind speed, it's built to a solid 25 knots. This is a lot of wind. This is when the rigging starts to make scary noises and you definitely begin to feel out of control as you hurtle into the darkness. Did I mention that there were rain squalls as well. Oh, yes and the waves. Did I mention that when winds pick up this high the sea likes to get in the act too. At times like this night is good. It hides how high the waves are beginning to look from the waterlevel cockpit. Now we are almost to the coastline of Guadalupe which is a good thing because there is shelter from the waves here. Of course, because the wind is blowing like the devil we are moving along at a good clip. We decide to head for the anchorage in Portsmouth Dominica. That's only about 8 hours away.

Now it is dawn. We have come into the bay and are drifting with the engine on in neutral until there is enough light to see the other boats in the anchorage. Roy eats some Honey Nut Cheerios, but I'm not ready for breakfast yet. Stopping first would be nice. Even at the crack of dawn, the intrepid Dominican boat boys are on the job. Chatty Morley escorts us into the anchorage and welcomes us to Dominica. We tell Morley we are going right to sleep and won't be going on the Indian River Guided trip later on. Next time. We get going the next morning - heading once again for Bequia. Really this time.

Until we get as far as Rosseau, at the south end of Dominica. It's about 4:30pm and I go below to check the fuel filter because we are about to head into the pass between Dominica and Martinique. The pass is usually kind of rough and will require a few hours of motoring to get through in these light winds. The filter is not happy and has to be changed. We think the fuel we got in Puerto Rico was contaminated which is why the filter is dirty and needs to be replaced. We are just off the town anchorage so in we go. So much easier to deal with diesel fuel and filters while stopped. We grab a mooring, change the filter and discover we can pick up free wifi. We decide to stay the night and head out to Bequia tomorrow.

Free wifi is a very good thing. Roy - who was not over the GPS fiasco - gets the info he needs to fix the problem from the Garmond website. Yeah, our favorite GPS in the whole world is back online. Now we can get to Bequia. After all, all these delays and pit stops are still bringing us closer and closer - though slowly - to our goal. We sail in beautiful conditions for about five hours. Full sails up and the day passes like a scene from a sailing commercial. Beautiful. Until we get too close to Martinique. The massive volcano on the north end of the island steals all the wind. Now we are motoring. That's not bad in itself, but there is an uncomfortable swell building. The water is looking more and more like a washing machine and my stomach is starting to feel like I'm inside of one. Lots of sloshing around that does not feel good. Another stop at Anse Mitan to quell the sloshing and catch some shut eye.

We have lost track of how many days we've been going. All we know is that Bequia is still on the agenda and now it's only two more islands south of us. Sailing again we cross the channel to St. Lucia and keep up a good pace all the way through to St. Vincent. Near the end of St. Vincent we see a relatively rare sight. Two freighters cross each other's track within 1 mile of each other. This doesn't sound very dramatic, but from our vantage point we felt like we could have been a freighter sandwich. Good thing this happened during daylight.

Only a few more hours to the tiny island of Bequia and one more obstacle: the Bequia Blast. This refers to the windy, choppy piece of water between ST. Vincent and Bequia. We enter it around 9pm and get spit out into the harbour at Port Elizabeth around midnight. We were hoping the fullish moon would light our way into the anchorage, but big dark clouds are looming. We anchor out in the back of the pack and drink a victory beer. Bequia. Really this time.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Rock in Road

It was just too big to move I guess!

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Saturday, March 21, 2009