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!

St. Lucia's Fresh Food Style

Sailing to St. Lucia

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.

Perfect Disguise

 

Can you see the lizard on the tree?

Dolphins