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.

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.

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.

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!