Elsie writes

Well it’s now the middle of July and neither of us have written anything in the blog since May. Why? I hear you shouting. Well…….

On the 1^st June we made a hard breaking but we think necessary decision. Ruby Tuesday is for sale. It has taken a lot of thinking, talking and decision making but surprisingly no arguing to make this huge jump. But it is done. We have spent June emptying, cleaning, polishing and generally sprucing up Ruby. She went on sale on Tuesday July 1^st. The heat has been horrendous and most of the work has had to be done in the early morning with huge breaks as the day gets warmer. Breaks that the pair of us have wandered about in silence, thinking, occasionally voicing our thoughts and I have to say doubts as well. As we emptied her of all our lives over the past five years, we have both been reduced to tears at finding some forgotten item that holds some far and distant memory. At that point, we look at each other. We don’t even have to ask the question. We know what the other is thinking. “Are we doing the correct thing?”

The thought process that has led us to this decision has been long and complex. I (Elsie) have fallen out of love with long distance sailing. A few nights on passage is fine. At the most, five days I can hack it but what’s the point in putting yourself through something you aren’t enjoying. When we embarked on this adventure, we both said that if either of us are not enjoying it anymore we stop sailing. It turns out Lionel wasn’t fully engaged anymore either. He has voiced his doubts on several separate occasions. The work to maintain a 40-foot yacht is long and arduous. It takes a lot of time and if you are relying on the boat as full-time cruisers do it must be done. I saw the frustration on his face when he realised it was time to change the oil and filters on the engine again or the head pipes needed another clean. Even simple jobs like refilling the cooking gas or finding somewhere to do laundry was getting us down.

The pandemic didn’t help either. We were stuck in one place for so long. We are used to moving every couple of days, doing some sailing, doing some walking, doing some sightseeing. I think a month in Key West when everything was shut was the last push. Then of course going round Hatteras in the conditions we faced in May was the ultimate straw that broke the camels back. We could have kept going, east coast in the summer, Caribbean in the winter but we were both getting bored with it and to go through the Panama Canal and sail over the Pacific was out of the question. Lionel would have needed to get crew for each leg and I would have had to fly here there and everywhere so we said “the end” and Ruby is up for sale in Annapolis MD. She is looking fantastic, all painted, polished, cleaned inside and out, all her upholstery renewed, her engine serviced and her sails looking like new. All we need now is the right person to come along and love her the way we do. Here’s hoping.

We fly back to the UK on 5^th August then we do our two weeks in quarantine. A lovely lady is letting us self-isolate in her home while we look after her dogs and rabbits. Her house backs onto a wood so walking dogs while in isolation should be easy and thank goodness for supermarket delivery people. Yes, it’s back to pet sitting while we look around for a place, we can call home. Lots of pet sitting, all over the world. Don’t worry, we aren’t giving up the travel malarkey, just doing it on dry land now. However, if someone invites us for a day sailing or needs crew to move their boat, I don’t think they will get a negative answer. So, August, September in the south of England, while we look around for a home then off to France and Spain for the Autumn, Winter if there is no further outbreak of COVID19 then back to England to sort out our home and do some fun stuff. What next…. watch this space because we haven’t got a clue either…………………………

May 2020

We arrived in Lake Worth, Florida on the 1^st May.  The anchorage was pleasant enough, though not of our usual preference, and we worked out where we could go ashore for shopping, etc. but we wanted to make progress up the coast so, when an opportunity arose 2 days later, we took it.  We left our anchorage mid afternoon on the 3^rd and headed out into a NE’ly F3.  Theoretically, this should have veered round a couple of hours later, to enable us to head back out into the Gulf Stream on the starboard tack.  As on our previous passage, however, it stayed resolutely from the direction that would allow us to either parallel the coast or head at right angles to it.  Not wishing to repeat a mistake, we continued on the port tack and, even though our heading was south of east, within 5 miles we were tracking well north of it.  By 22:00, we were in the core of the stream and tacked round with over 3 knots of push.  The wind looked like it was going to be favourable to take us all the way to Beaufort, North Carolina, which would put us within a few miles of our target of 35 North, required for insurance cover after 1^st June.  The only problem was an area of forecast thunderstorms, which might overtake us before arrival.  We watched this carefully and, as we approached the point where the Gulf Stream makes a right-angle bend to the East, made the decision to continue in a straight line and head for Charleston, South Carolina. We arrived here, with an hour to spare before sunset on the evening of the 5^th.  Even with some very light winds, this was our fastest ever passage, making 370 miles in 49 hours giving a speed over the ground of 7.7 knots.  Elsie’s morning watch on the 5^th achieved 61 miles in 6 hours all in calm seas.  If only all sailing were like this!

We motor sailed up the entrance channel, or more exactly, just outside it as it is very busy with large cargo ships, and dropped the anchor off Fort Johnson.  We stayed here overnight and then motored the couple of miles to a busier spot, opposite the municipal marina.  Expecting it to be fairly busy, I deliberately chose to make the move on the ebb, so that I could see how everyone else was lying.  Unexpectedly, there was a large clear spot and we were able to anchor with the nearest yacht 25 metres astern but well to one side and a smaller one 15 metres further, directly astern of us.  Dinghy launched and off for a good walk, shop and Uber back to the dinghy dock.  By now the current had changed to the flood. As we motored back to Ruby, I couldn’t see the small yacht, which should now be about 40 metres ahead of us.  Horror – as we approached, we saw that it was actually alongside and, with a poorly maintained rubbing strake, taking large chunks out of our gel coat.  Her anchor rope was underneath Ruby.  Not wishing to cut this with our very efficient rope cutter, I just used our rudder to swing us back and forth.  The first attempt was unsuccessful and, as we had towing insurance, I called for a tug.   After several further attempts, we managed to separate and we heaved up the anchor.  As it broke surface, we could see that we were fouling the other yachts anchor rope, but managed to drop this without too much difficulty.  We decided to move back to our previous anchorage but, as we started to manoeuvre, there was a large vibration from the propeller.  As we were drifting clear of other boats, we re-anchored, waited for the tug, and got him to tow us there.  We managed to get the number for local divers and they agreed to come out early the next morning.

The diver found nothing, apart from a slightly loose anode on the saildrive, which was tightened.  A quick engine run showed no significant vibration, so we considered job done.  We dinghied ashore and had a pleasant walk along the shore and back through the centre of town.  Nagging doubts remained, however and on Friday, we picked up anchor for more engine trials.  This time, the vibration was much worse.  Had the anode broken loose and was it flapping around?  It seemed unlikely that it would cause so much of a problem but I called the divers again.  They couldn’t come back until Monday morning.  We spent the weekend doing not very much, although I did go for a 6 mile round trip walk to a hardware store for some bits and pieces.  Elsie, meanwhile, had cut up a large slice of water melon and marinated it in rum.  This made a delicious, though rather potent, substitution for ice cubes in our sun-downers.

 

Sun-downers with added kick

While waiting for the diver on Monday morning, I contacted a boatyard and made arrangements for a further tow to take us there.  This was a good precaution as the diver found nothing further.  She removed the anode, on the unlikely possibility that it was the cause of vibrations, but no.  So, it was a 12 mile tow past Charleston and up the Wando river to the City Boatyard.  We would not be permitted to stay on board, while Ruby was out of the water and we checked that hotels were operating.  They were unable to lift us that afternoon, so we stayed on board that night, making a provisional Airbnb reservation for the following night. 

 

The prop shouldn't look like this.

As soon as we were lifted on Tuesday morning, the problem was obvious.  The two blades of the folding propeller were at different angles to the hub.  Closer inspection showed that one of the teeth which should keep them synchronised had been sheered off, possibly by excessive lateral force from the other yacht’s anchor rope.  While the boatyard is far from cheap, the staff proved their worth by tracking down a replacement propeller (unfortunately in Sweden) and getting estimates for this and repairs to the gel coat.  Since we were obviously not going anywhere for a while, we confirmed our Airbnb and booked for a week.  It was a 2 mile walk, mostly along a busy highway, but it gave us some exercise.  On Wednesday, I returned to the boatyard, to do some hull cleaning and arrange some other jobs.  Elsie walked the other direction for some shopping.  Unfortunately, finding the propeller was the high point of the yard’s efficiency and I spent the next week project managing.  Constant driving meant that we were ready to launch the following Thursday (even though I had to fit the new propeller myself – management had forgotten that the engineer had a day off).  Back in the water at 16:00, away at 17:30 and back at anchor at Charleston at 20:00.  We needed to do this as the last weather window to proceed east for at least 10 days was closing the following morning.  It was not going to be great sailing but, if we didn’t go, we would either be stuck where we were or have to motor up the ICW.

 

An early rise on Friday 22^nd saw the anchor up at 06:00.  We had following winds most of the way to Charleston but they were light and, to avoid running into head-winds, we had to motor sail a lot of the way but it was better than going up ‘the ditch’.  We were not alone in this judgement as we saw at least half a dozen other yachts following the same path.  There was a choice of anchorages on arrival.  We could enter the river and stop opposite the coastguard station, which is safe but not scenic and gets a lot of passing traffic or continue another 5 miles to Cape Lookout Bight, which is a large, almost totally enclosed lagoon.  We had been here a couple of times before and there were usually a couple of other boats but there were deserted beaches and plenty of room.  There was no immediate hurry to move on, so we opted for the latter.  As we approached, on Saturday evening, Elsie called that she could see some masts already there.  ‘I can see six, no, eight’, ‘more’.  In fact, as we rounded the spit, I counted 34 sailing boats and 8 motor yachts, not to mention a couple of shrimp boats.  Some of the yachts were those we had travelled with; some were flying the ‘Q’ flag, so had presumably just arrived from the Caribbean but most were locals.  We had omitted the Memorial Day public holiday from our calculations.  Never mind, there was plenty of room and we found a surprisingly large space to anchor, celebrating our arrival with ‘Dark and Stormy’ rum and gingers. 

 

On Sunday morning, at 07:00, we discovered the reason for our large space: we were on a direct line between the entrance and the markers for Barden Inlet, a popular fishing area, and the locals, in their speedy boats were heading for it, seemingly at 20 second intervals and doing 30 knots.  We rose, picked up and moved out of the firing line, which reduced traffic a bit but there were still a few close passers-by.  As the day progressed, the picnickers arrived and the beach was fringed with dozens of motor boats disgorging the hoards.  We elected to stay on board.  Although Monday was Memorial Day, it seemed that the shops would be open, so we headed into Homer Smith docks, catching the morning tide and tying up at 11:00.  There is a courtesy car but it was busy, so we walked the mile-and-a-half to the Piggly Wiggly supermarket for a few supplies, returning for lunch. Later in the afternoon, our wonderful OCC port officer, Dianne, visited, bearing her usual gift of peanuts and we arranged that she would pick us up in the morning to take us to breakfast at a local restaurant.  Around her visit, Elsie managed a couple of loads of laundry, rejuvenating our saloon cushion covers.

 

We were joined at breakfast by Nicky and Reg, from Blue Velvet, who updated us on their adventures over the winter.  They had managed to get down as far as Honduras before lockdown and seemed to have made the most of being some of the few guests in what was normally a busy tourist spot.  It looked as though there would be a weather window for us to depart on Wednesday morning and go the outside route round Hatteras, so we let go at midday and headed back to the Cape Lookout, having a nice beam reach on the way.  A re-check in the morning showed that we should have SSE 20 knots, gusting 25, pretty much all of the way.  This was a bit more than ideal for the 70 miles between the Capes of Lookout and Hatteras, where it would be on the beam, but well within Ruby’s capability. We put 3 reefs in the main and headed out at 0900.  At first, the winds were lighter than forecast, though there was a larger swell than we had expected.   This continued to build to over 4 metres and, with the wind increasing to 25, gusting 30, made progress, though rapid, very uncomfortable.  Once past Hatteras, we were able to come round to a broad reach and the swell reduced, making it more pleasant.  Of course, now that we could handle the wind, it started to reduce and, by 08:00 on Thursday, we were motor assisting and we continued, juggling sail plan and motor power as the wind varied all the way.  We entered the Chesapeake at dusk and elected to continue as the following morning the wind was due to die, then re-start from the north.  The last 30 miles were made under full sail with the wind increasing back to F5-6, which finished us with a romp up the South River at Annapolis.  We entered Harness Creek, one of our favourite spots on this coast, and anchored at 14:40, a little surprised to find it almost deserted. 

 

Saturday morning dawned fair and by 10:00 the joint was jumping.  There is a place to rent kayaks, paddle boards, etc and on previous visits there were usually a few of these out at weekends.  Now, every one was taken, with queues building.  Dozens of small motor boats also arrived to celebrate the end of Covid lock-down.  We had work to do: tidying, cleaning and drying so just got on with that over the weekend.  We did go ashore for a walk on Sunday, to get a few more cleaning supplies and then sat down with our sun-downers to watch the last of the weekend visitors leave that evening, leaving us in peace.

  

April 2020

In which we spend 4 weeks at anchor at Key West, waiting for developments on Covid 19, then start moving north again.

We arrived in Key West in the small hours of the first of April and, after a much-needed sleep, moved round to Garrison bight at first light.  As Elsie described, we picked up a mooring and completed check-in procedures, thus relieving any anxiety that we would not be permitted to stay.  On our way back from check-in, we flagged down a local who advised that there might be an unofficial place where we could land the dinghy to get provisions. Satisfied that we could at least survive, we spent the remainder of the day tidying up from the passage and catching up with the outside world.

 The following morning, I made a series of phone calls to try to clarify what shore access was permitted.  The city marina confirmed that, as we were not resident, we couldn’t use any of their facilities, including the mooring buoy that we were currently tied to; This was not their decision, but that of the authorities, though they were unsure of which ones.  I tried the coastguard, not them.  The Fish and Wildlife commission (which had issued orders about social distancing on small craft), not them.  The city council, not them, but the county. I was given a number to call, which turned out to be a snitch line for local tax-payers. Unable to talk to anyone in authority, I emailed the county head of emergency response, who appeared to have issued the ruling.  No reply was ever received.  Eventually, another marina agreed that I could use their dinghy dock and, leaving photo ID, could have an hour to shop.  Since they were several miles from the supermarkets, this would need taxis, but Ubers were operating.  Dinghy in, call taxi, 10 minutes; taxi ride, 10 minutes; shop, 15 minutes; call taxi, 10 minutes; ride, 10 minutes; back with 5 minutes to spare.  Can I fill my water cans? Yes.  So we now had access to food and water and were sheltered from all but the worst weather.  We just had to find a better parking solution.  There were a couple of yachts anchored outside the mooring field in a big open area, so we let go the buoy, found a nice big space and dropped the anchor.  During the afternoon, we were passed by boats belonging to the Coastguard, police and Wildlife commission, not of which even slowed down, so we seemed to have passed the last test.

Key West anchorage

Like many millions of people round the world, we now had to get used to a much slower pace of life than even we were used to.  Not being permitted to exercise ashore, I took to early morning calisthenics, something I hadn’t practiced for over 45 years.  It had to be early as by 8 AM it was too hot for anything energetic.  We forced ourselves into a routine of study periods etc. but, like all those other millions, we discovered that merely having unlimited time didn’t mean that we actually got round to writing that book or learning advanced mathematics.  I did clean Ruby’s bottom and topsides and freed a couple of seized locker catches; Elsie repaired a cushion or two and cleaned the cabin deckhead but too much time was spent on social media and reading about the news from around the world.

Passing bar.  They didn't stop to offer us a drink.

After a few days, it was time for another shop, so we headed to where the local had indicated.  The chart showed a large bank, drying at low water, so we rigged seat and oars in the dinghy, in case it was too shallow to motor.  It transpired that there was sufficient water to get in and, underneath a bridge, a 4 m metre wide beach where we could land and walk to the supermarket.  Only when we got to the top of the bank did we see the sign warning of crocodiles.  We never saw any of those, but there were some large lizards and, strangely, cockerels.  All our basic needs were now met so the routine continued:  water, every 2 days: shopping, once a week; laundry, once (self-isolating in sub-tropical temperatures, you don’t get through many sets of clothes); propane refill, once.  The hot water calorifier, which had been functioning well a couple of weeks earlier, now ceased to work, and many hours were spent flushing this through with various chemicals, unfortunately without success.  There is a blockage, requiring about 30 PSI to overcome. We can manage without for the time being so we will hope that it clears itself as it has once before.  While working on this, the seal on the raw water engine pump failed so another shore trip was required to exchange this, and its spare.

Don't hang about on this beach

While not in any hurry to go further north, we kept an eye on the weather.  After a couple of weeks, we saw a potential window coming up, to take us up to Lake Worth, near Palm Beach, Florida; pause, then further to Beaufort, North Carolina.  We prepared for this then, with about 12 hours to departure, the weather for the second leg started deteriorating and, as we didn’t want to get stuck in Lake Worth, we stayed put.  Of course, soon after our departure slot had passed, the weather improved again, but we had missed it.  Ten days later another slot, though not quite as good, appeared and, as we were now getting near to our original schedule, we took it.

On the afternoon of the 29^th, we motored back round Flemming Key (home of U.S. special forces) to take fuel and water, then anchored, waiting for the optimum departure time, 21:00  The theory was that we would head south from the fairway for an hour, to get into the fringes of the Gulf Stream; the wind would veer sufficiently for us to tack and then it would be a downstream ride all the way.  As so often, the weather didn’t read the script: the wind did veer just sufficiently to force us to tack but then hesitated for 6 hours so that it was not until the small hours that we got the full benefit of the current and 08:00 before we could ease the sheets and relax.  The stream makes a right angle turn and it wasn’t long before we were broad reaching making 8 -9 knots over the ground with 10 knots of relative wind.  It would have been nice if the wind were to back but it was forecast to veer, so we were expecting to have to goose-wing for a few hours before broad reaching on the other tack.  Instead it died.  At the same time, we were getting severe weather warnings from the other side of Florida.  We checked and re-checked the forecast and confirmed that our, Eastern, side should be clear but Elsie spotted a dark line on the horizon and, even though we were only getting 5 knots and the radar was showing no rain, we put in 2 reefs.  As we finished, the wind veered through 120 degrees and increased to 25 knots.  For the next several hours we had NW F6, instead of the forecast SW F3.  With wind against current, this made things uncomfortable, to say the least.  Eventually, it did back to west and decreased to F4, so we had a few hours of more comfort.  By 02:00, it had veered and increased again so it was back to crashing into the waves, only almost compensated for by the 11 – 12 knot progress.  When I rose for my watch at 05:00 on the 1^st May, we were just coming level with Lake Worth, though we were 16 miles offshore, so tacked round and had an easy reach in.  We reached the fairway buoy at 08:00 and by 9 were at anchor in this very affluent widening of the I.C.W.  We tidied up and settled to wait for the next window to continue north.

Elsie's Cuba diary - week 4

Week 4 and our journey to USA

at last

Friday 20^th March

After our huge disappointment of no shrimps we decided to head for a more picturesque anchorage in the National Park. Hopefully there would be no shouting officials and stuck up diving tourists this time. Yes, you have guessed it, the wind was a north easterly 4 and we were going to be almost directly downwind for the 18nm to the chosen anchorage so the genoa was deployed and we set sail earlyish for a somewhat slow but rocky sail. The swell was at least two metres in some areas. Cayo Alcatracito was our destination, part of a group of Cayos named Cinos Balas, Five Bullets. It was reported there was huge sandy beaches and reefs to explore. Both of us liked the sound of that. The passage took us through a shallow area between cayos where I spotted a mast hidden behind some land. On closer inspection it was a catamaran whose occupants were obviously into serious water sports – one was kite surfing and the other was paddle boarding in swells of about two metres. We left them to it and continued around the reef that protects the anchorage we were heading for.

colours of the shadows

There were three boats already there, two together, (sailing buddies) and one well apart. As we were readying to put the genoa away the two buddies upped anchor and motor sailed away towards the west. Well it wasn’t me I had a shower the night before and put on clean knickers. It must have been the Captain they smelt.  Dropped the sail and motored into a depth we could anchor in, dropped the anchor and congratulated ourselves for another safe ocean passage done.

lunch

Lunch was eaten. I had now run out of salad ingredients and have resorted to tuna mayo with sweetcorn on USA’s equivalent of water biscuits. Lionel is still munching through his part baked bread and salami but I have to say we are both getting a little fed up with our lunch time menu. Dinner has not been such a problem as we keep coming up with new ways to prepare a meal with tinned and dried goods. Tonight’s may be pizza. A large tortilla, covered in salsa with the topping of your choice. On offer is cheese and onion, tuna and sweetcorn, sardines or pepperoni and the ever-favourite ham but no pineapple, I forgot to buy some tinned fruit thinking that fruit would not be scarce in this part of the world. Wrong. You can get bananas, and bananas then of course there are bananas and of course there is those long yellow bent fruits which I’ve forgotten their names, ah yes bananas.

Sorry, I have digressed. Enough of our food stores and meal planning. After lunch we launched the dingy and made for one of the two sandy beaches this cay has to offer. Wonderful, a choice. The beach had a narrow sandy strip between the mangroves and the sea but it was good to walk apart for the ferocious sand flies. I was glad I had the foresight to spray on insect repellent. At each end of the beach there was a forest of dead trees washed up on the beach. Some of them would make spectacular outdoor sculptures. The shallows were full of crabs and what looked like sea anemones. As they were turned upside down a huge mouth like structure became visible. Lots of little chattering birds who waddled along the beach in front of you, looking back to make sure you weren’t coming too close and graceful white stork like birds who seemed content in just standing in the water watching you. I think it may be nesting season because they seemed to be guarding their territory. And of course, pelicans, huge squadrons of funny stupid pelicans who haven’t learnt the art of graceful water landings yet and just drop feet first into the water – well it seems like that but their technique still works, never seen a skinny pelican.

lurking in the shallows

 On our way back to Ruby we dropped in to say hello to the other anchored boat, “Freedom”, captained by a mad Aussie, Peter I think, and his lovely girlfriend Margareta was his crew. They were going west to east, the opposite way to us, and we were hoping to get some information about what was happening in Cienfuegos. Everything was fine, no restrictions on your movements and food was plentiful. They had checked out of Cuba but were taking their time leaving. Like us they were enjoying drifting through these islands.

firewood anyone?

This settled our minds more and we tentatively started making plans for some more land travel when we got there. Two places we had earmarked for visits were Santa Clara and Trinidad. Trinidad had a marina but it was far from the town so it was easier to travel from Cienfuegos. It is reputed to be the oldest city in the new world but how many times have we heard that claim? We were concerned about using public transport so it was decided that we would use private cars with drivers to get from one town to the other. There were always drivers willing to take tourists somewhere at a price and as long as they could get fuel for the car. Santa Clara was all about Cuba’s other favourite son Che. Although he was not Cuban, he was adopted by the people and was a huge hero during and after the revolution. So big a hero, it is rumoured that Fidel had a hand in his assassination.  He feared for Che taking over the Government. His grave is at Santa Clara along with other important sites of the revolution.

During our nightly sundowners we were interrupted by a dingy approaching. It contained two wet and bedraggled occupants Peter and Margareta. They had been exploring on the north side of the Cay, filming and spear fishing. Margareta had speared a huge snapper and as they had already enough fish aboard, they gifted it to us. This was very welcome as fresh provisions were low. We had been trailing a line this morning but only caught a large barracuda which had to be thrown back as they are usually infected and when eaten humans can develop ciguatera, a disease which poisons the body. Not nice. Lionel cleaned, beheaded and unscaled the snapper and we had delicious fish steaks for dinner with enough left over for a curry tomorrow night. The pizza can wait.

walk at last

Saturday 21^st March

We were enjoying this anchorage so much we decided to stay another day. There was another beach to explore and reefs to swim or dinghy over and mangroves to go and look at so after a lazy morning we set off for the other cay. Lionel went off for a stomp and I took a leisurely stroll. The sand flies were worse over on this beach and we had to keep moving to deter them. Even then the backs of my legs and upper arms were covered in red lumps. This beach was somehow more rugged but with less mangroves encroaching on the water’s edge. I soon lost sight of Lionel whose mission seemed to be to walk around the Cay. I was fascinated with the small rays basking in the warm shallow water. They seemed to have no fear and only darted away when I was mere feet away from them. The birds were noisier here as well. Little waders prancing about the beach lecturing you and probably each other about where to get the best food. Very few pelicans but lots of the white stately stork like birds fishing. The water was shallow for a good one hundred yards from the beach but the sand was more like gooey mud and sucked my feet under when I attempted to paddle. I walked to a distant mangrove clump then turned around and walked back to the dinghy where I got in and pushed it of the beach to get away from the ever-present flies. Eventually Lionel turned up and waded out to the dinghy carefully avoiding the small ray which had parked itself in the shade of the dinghy.

it's a mouth and nothing much else

The rest of the day was spent being lazy, catching up with some blog writing, reading and discussing our hoped-for land travel next week. We had a brief visit from the captain of a French yacht which had arrived when we were exploring. He had no good news. It looked as if land travel was not viable anymore and the Cubans were becoming rather worried about tourists bringing in more cases of Coronus.  Who can blame them?  I think we are as safe as we can be just bobbing about these Cays but water is becoming dangerously low and, in a day, or two, we will have to seriously think about returning to civilisation…. unless it rains then all bets are off.

sea sculpture

Sunday 22^nd March

Lionel was up early unleashing the sails and preparing for our next little jaunt. When I got up, he was contemplating his coffee mug. “Fancy staying here for another day? We deserve a weekend off.” He didn’t need to ask twice. The sails were put back into their bag and another lazy day started.  I had a book to finish reading and he wanted to go on another stomp round the Cay we were on yesterday, so off he went and I settled down to some reading.

After lunch Lionel wanted to go swim the nearby reef and see if he could prise any unsuspecting lobsters from under their rock. It sounded like too much hard work to me so he loaded the dinghy with an anchor, his snorkelling gear and a vicious looking metal rod with a hook on one end. Alas, he came back empty handed and we went back to the original beach for one last walk before the sun went down. It will be sad to leave this little bit of paradise but we need to keep moving towards Cienfuegos and water.

a shady spot, just right for a read

Monday 23^rd March

No delay today and we set sail for tonight’s destination, Cayo Zaza de Fuerd, a mere 35 nm away at just before 0800. With two reefs in the main sail and a brisk easterly force 4 wind we made good progress. As usual there was some narrow shallow passages between sand banks and reefs but with the captain’s navigational skills, they were a doddle. We have been using two cruising guides in Cuba. The Waterway Guide by Addison Chan and Nigel Calder and another lesser known one which I traded for a couple of slabs of beer with another boat in The Bahamas last winter. This one is by Amaia  Agrirre and Frank Virgintino. It is geared more to the USA boaters and is considerably older than Addison’s guide. I had also been taking advice from the Cuban Cruisers Facebook group before we got to Cuba so I felt we were well prepared for our two-month adventure here in Cuba. Because of the water situation we were missing out an anchorage at Cayo Breton but reading the cruising reports I don’t think we were missing much. Just another Cayo covered in mangroves and that was confirmed by our neighbours in tonight’s Cayo, Patrick and Leslie, two Canadian friends who sailed on The Little Blue Pearl. Well that’s the boat’s name translated into English. We had already met them in Santiago de Cuba but never really socialised so we spent a few happy hours having a drink and swopping sailing stories. Patrick was usually singlehanded but Leslie had volunteered to come along and help him visit Cuba, smart girl. She was becoming increasingly worried about the Corona news as she needed to be back in Quebec for 16^th April and she already knew flights were becoming fewer and fewer.

little blue Pearl

As we had been dropping the anchor a fishing boat had been the entering the anchorage and we had hailed them and asked them if they had any lobster we could trade with. Looking at their blank expressions I began to wonder if they were actually a fishing crew or just a work crew looking for a quiet anchorage for the night. We showed them a jacket, a snorkel mask and some coffee and they seemed more interested in lobster fishing and took off in the general direction of the reef where lobsters allegedly lived. No luck there they disappeared around the corner and we thought that was that and it might be the infamous pizza tonight after all.

large fishing boat

After our social hour with Patrick and Leslie we were quietly contemplating the sunset and who should return but our fishing boat laden with lobsters. We traded a snorkel mask and some lip salve for six of these creatures – a huge granddaddy, two Canadian sized ones and three smaller nondescript ones. We did say we didn’t want so many and to give some to the other boat but they held up another six and told us, by sign language that they were for the other boat. So, six lobsters, three days dinner and it cost us 15CUC and a snorkel mask. We were ruthless with our bargaining but they wanted money as well as the other things so cash was handed over.

catch of the day

Lionel did a little butchering on deck while I stayed out of the way then he cooked the granddaddy lobster and served it with noodles in a Hollandaise sauce. There was far too much meat for just the two of us but we either ate it or it was wasted so we ate. Yum Yum. He then decided to cook the rest of the lobsters and pick of the meat so it would be easier to deal with for the next two nights. Good idea. After his murder spree on deck I scrubbed and washed the evidence away and he stripped the lobsters of their flesh and threw the empty shells overboard. I think $15 was a fair price for three nights of lobster dinners.

Tuesday 24^th March

Tonight, is our last anchorage before we hit the big city. Water was at crisis point and we might have to break out the 50 litres of water we have had on board since we crossed the Atlantic 4 years ago. Today’s sail was a 30nm to an anchorage beside a tourist hotel where we allegedly could pick up internet. The wind had subsided and we had a good journey with full sail and the cruising chute. The passage was one of our less complicated sails with only a very short stretch with shallow water as we entered the anchorage area. I went up onto the bow to watch for random coral heads and rocks. Sailing in the Bahamas had helped me learn very quickly how to read the water using colours. The darker the water the deeper it was usually but it all depends on what the bottom has on it. It was light patches with dark rocks and coral heads in them that I was looking for but this time I saw none.

beach party anyone

We anchored as close to the hotel as possible. Hotel Ancon is a tourist hotel with a glorious beach running for a couple of miles in front of it. All the touristy things were laid out on the golden sand – thatched sun shades, canoes, paddle boards but there were no tourists around. We saw a couple having a walk along the beach at sunset but that was it. As usual in Cuba we were not allowed to land here as there was no Gaurda present so we just looked longingly. The Little Blue Pearl joined us. They managed to get a half mile nearer the hotel than us and got internet. No good news. Cuba was closing their borders. The last flight to Canada was in a few days and Leslie was desperate to get on it so they struck out after dinner to do a night passage to Cienfuegos. There was no wind forecast so it was going to be a long 35nm motor no matter when they went. We had resigned ourselves to the situation and stayed put for one last night of freedom. Little did we know what was to come.

russian designed Cuban lighthouse

Wednesday 25^th March

Up early and out of the anchorage by 0800. We raised the sails but with not much hope of sailing but thought we might get a little push from them in the about easterly wind. At midday we surprised ourselves and sailed the rest of the way with full sail up. This bit of the coast is not very interesting apart from the designer lighthouses. The Russians designed and built the lighthouses along this part of the coast. Foreigners are allowed to walk around them but are not allowed in them. They are supposed to be as sumptuous inside as they are on the outside. I could well imagine the “lid” popping open and a rocket emerging from the inside of the one nearest to Hotel Ancon. A beautiful bit of shoreline art.

more tradiotional

As the day developed the wind got stronger and we managed to sail with full sail from midday into the entrance of Cienfuegos harbour where we had a 7-mile motor to the marina passing some interesting buildings. The path was somewhat zig zag round shallow patches but we did get there eventually and safely. We had already discussed our strategy and Lionel radioed the marina and asked permission to tie up on the fuel dock which was denied. We were asked to go to anchor and wait for further instructions which we did. There were about another 6 boats at anchor including our Canadian friends on Little Blue Pearl.

marina

About an hour later the marina launch approached and hovered feet away from our stern. The two people in it introduced themselves as the doctor and harbour master (who talked excellent English and turned out to be a Godsend). We were asked the usual questions and the doctor took our temperature. Everything was good. Again, Lionel asked to go alongside to fill up with diesel and water and the harbourmaster explained water was not a problem but the diesel would not be delivered till the next morning. She then asked our intentions and we explained that once we got fuel, water and food we would leave and head for USA. She wanted to know where in the USA and seemed satisfied with all our answers and went away with a smile on her face.

During the evening and night there was some talk over the radio amongst the half dozen or so boats in the anchorage. We were very careful about what we said over the airwaves, “walls have ears” Most of the boats had be at anchor for over a week but we and a Canadian boat had come in that day. No one was allowed off their boat. The marina staff would get food for the anchored boats if asked and there was no visiting between boats. Fair enough. Good policies to stop the spread of Corona even though most of us had been self-isolated for over two weeks. We were watched all night by the coast guard who were anchored on the edge of the designated anchorage.

coast guard

Thursday 26^th March

In the morning there was another visit from the doctor and today’s harbour master who when asked said he would call us on channel 16 when the fuel arrived and was ready to be pumped. There was more chitchat amongst the boats, some of it in French as it was thought that the authorities would not understand that language. A single-handed Australian sailor was very concerned about rumours about new policies, either leave or dock the boat and go to a Government run hotel full of other stranded tourists. He thought, and quite rightly I think, that it was a recipe for disaster and at his age (70) there was no way he was going to comply. He was safe and healthy there on his boat and that was the way it was going to stay. The marina eventually called him on channel 16 and requested him to come to the dock, with his boat not his dinghy, they had some new important information. He said no and a conversation started trying to persuade him to do as requested. He stuck to his guns. They did eventually admit that if the anchored boats were not going to leave, they were to be brought into the marina and the crew taken to a hotel. Some of the anchored boats had nowhere else to go and frantically started to make inquiries about emergency visas and permission to go to other countries which they had not planned to go to. We both have a B1/B2 visa for the USA and the cruising permit had been renewed in Puerta Rico so we could legally enter the USA, if they would have us.

 At 1100 we were radioed to come into the fuel dock. Some of the anchored boats advised us not to go in as it was a ploy. We went in and were met with various friendly officials.

our saviuor in a mask

Yesterday’s dockmaster (who had already worked a 24-hour shift) came back in to help with interpreting and ended up running the whole of the visible operation. The water tanks were filled and I handed the ‘interpreter’ my shopping list with bags and empty egg boxes. She zoomed away and came back half hour later with the list of things she could get locally and their prices. We OK’d them then she explained someone would have to go into the city to get the fruit and vegetables on our list. I was flabbergasted. This was above and beyond the service I had expected but the Captain pointed out that they were desperate for us to leave and would do almost anything to achieve that aim. The diesel was still settling and still not ready to fill our tanks.veg net beginning to fill up

veg net beginning to fill up

Meanwhile we watched a large tourist boat leave the marina and approach one of the anchored boats and tow it into a dock. I thought this was the start of the Cubans becoming heavy handed but it turned out the boat had engine problems and the captain had requested that the boat to be towed in (I cannot verify this as fact but that is how it sounded to me as the radio messages flew around the anchorage). The Canadian boat came alongside the fuel dock behind us. They had requested fuel and then they were leaving as well.

During the next couple of hours various food items were delivered and paid for. We had a finite amount of Cuban cash and we knew we would need copious amounts of fuel so we had been quite canny about our shopping list. The marina staff quite happily took our rubbish away, glass bottles, aluminium cans and general garbage. They smiled and nodded at all our requests and complied with everything they could. We were not allowed on the dock. At last we were fuelled, watered and food was loaded. It turned out a young woman had gone into the city to buy all the fruit and veg for us and the Canadian boat. Unbelievable service. I was showing Leslie some of the things they had brought us and she was lamenting about not asking for them as well. Lo and behold the staff produced more of the same stuff. We found that after all the bills were paid, we had extra Cuban cash so we asked if someone could go and buy more rum for us, along came three bottles of high-quality golden rum. You’ve got to love them. Two boats left Cienfuegos very happy.

typical waterside property

The weather was OK but not perfect for our journey to USA. We were heading for either Dry Tortugas or Key West, whatever one we could go into in daylight. We had left around 1430 on 27^th March. The idea was to sail when we could and anchor in secluded spots along the South coast when the wind didn’t blow to conserve fuel. As we got to the harbour entrance, we raised full sail and set off for tonight’s potential anchorage. Lionel had two in mind depending on the conditions we encountered in the first hour. Predict wind was showing we may (or may not) have a strong head wind but it didn’t materialise so we kept on going, cutting the corner of a military exclusion zone at the Bahia de Cochinos (Bay of Pigs). The wind started to die around 2200 and we motor sailed into our tiny anchorage just after midnight. As we dropped anchor lights came on ahead and we feared the worst, Cuban coastguard but it turned out to be a sleepy fisherman. Cayo Guano del Este is a tiny rocky Cayo with a lighthouse and some ruined houses on it so not much to look at but the shelter it gave us was welcome as we needed a good night’s sleep and some time to reflect on what had happened in the last 24 hours. Personally, adrenalin had kept me going but as a sipped a very strong rum I realised how stressed I had been. No matter how nice and accommodating people are there is always a very small doubt in your mind, “Is this going to work?” But it had and we were set for our passage to USA.

bye bye Cuba

Friday 27^th March

Lionel had been keeping in touch with Wild Iris and Zwailer via email. We thought they were in a Cayo about 60nm miles away so that’s where we decided to head today so it was up with the sun, full main sail and the cruising chute deployed and away we went. The wind was a nice easterly force 3, perfect for the cruising chute and we bowled along at between 6 and 7knotts. The wind strengthened and when it started hitting over 16knotts the cruising chute came down and the jib went out which slowed us down slightly so Lionel elected to motor sail as the sun got lower in the sky and we got slower and slower. We heard various boats radioing each other during the day but our ears pricked up when we heard Wild Iris talking to Zwailer. Zwailer was on their way home. They had elected to leave Cuba, head for Bimini, Bermuda and homewards. Brave brave sailors, sailing into the unknown, no one knew or could predict where they would be welcome or get more food and fuel. After that conversation was finished Lionel called them up and wished them well and asked them to keep in touch.

At around 1900 we lowered the sails and entered the channel that lead to the anchorage. As I was tidying up the sails and Lionel was navigating a particularly narrow bit a coast guard boat approached and asked to see our papers and passports. We handed them over and they were scrutinised carefully. We were then asked our intentions and they seemed happy enough we were coming in to rest for the night and leaving first thing in the morning for a nonstop sail to Key West. There were four other boats in the anchorage, one of them Wild Iris who we got on the radio and got some good advice about where to anchor. They were on sand and weed but the French boats had dropped their anchors on coral and had poor holding so we maneuverer our way to the stern of Wild Iris and dropped our anchor on the sand and weed and gave it a good tug. Success.

Mark from Wild Iris radioed us again and said we had been invited to a pot luck supper on one of the French boats but as we were exhausted and had already started cooking, we declined. He came over to visit and we exchanged news and views. They were heading for Tampa where they had some friends who were willing to help them if they got put into quarantine. We agreed it would be prudent to have shore help if the authorities refused to let us land. Strategies were discussed and he left with some ham, half a melon and half dozen eggs. They had not seen meat for a very long time but I was not willing to give up one of the two chickens which the girls had got for us. We would need it. He did return with several green peppers. I had forgotten to add them to my shopping list. After he left, we had a brainstorming session and still thought that Key West or Dry Tortugas were where we should be heading but realised our plan of anchoring every night until the wind improved was not going to happen. We were on the coast guard’s radar now and although they obviously didn’t have the state of art technology other countries coastguard had they could still find us so from tomorrow morning it was Key West or bust. I made sure I got a very good sleep – rum and earplugs are the best way.

our last anchorage

Our passage North

This is when our passage started in earnest. The preventors were put out on both sides of the boat, a spare jib line was attached and by 0820 we had lifted the anchor and were motoring out into the wild blue yonder closely followed by three other boats and a large catamaran in front with the coast guard escorting us from a distance. The sail went up with one reef in it and off we went. With a good easterly behind us we made good progress that morning but not as good as the large catamaran and Wild Iris. They were hitting heady speeds of 7 or 8 knots regularly whereas our average was about 6.5. They were soon just specks in the distance. We elected to sail further offshore so we did not turn to goosewing until about 1400 which slowed us down considerably.

By 0200 on Sunday a had to start the motor as the wind had died and we were making very little headway. We knew there was going to be a lot of motor sailing in the next four days but we would have to try and keep it to a minimum to conserve fuel. The next two days was a combination of reaching, goose winging and motor sailing as the fickle wind tried to make up it’s mind what it really wanted to do. For once I was eating well and sleeping most of the time I was off watch. Lionel does not sleep during the day; he naps and dozes but usually sleeps soundly the six hours during the night which makes me very aware of flapping sails and banging booms. But in light winds and a roly sea it is very hard to stop it so I just plug in my earphones, listen to some music and hope for the best.

Lionel always keeps a close eye on the weather forecast using the Iridium Go and the news was not good. We were still 18 hours too early for the good sailing winds so we came up with a new plan. We would slow down and effectively delay our passage by 18 hours so a boring evening and night on Monday was spent doing about 25nm in a six-hour watch. The next weather forecast was more variable but there was a chance of lightning storms ahead. We felt we were between a rock and a hard place, slow down so we could get the more favourable winds over the Gulf Stream or motor sail to avoid the incoming storms. We sped up and eventually hit the stream on 31^st where we got a good 2.5knott push. The wind was out of the south east quarter so there was no wind against current effect so we had a smooth ride for the day. We had elected to do a big sweeping curve until the heading of the offshore buoy at Key West was 40 then we would turn directly towards it. By doing this we would stay in the Gulf Stream longer and thus get a longer push. Good theory. Even with all our clever planning we were going to arrive in Key West sometime after midnight on 1^st. Dry Tortugas was 60nm nearer and we had discussed the pros and cons of landing there. Two of the negatives was there was no fresh water and no internet and I am sorry to say we were both getting rather jumpy about having no contact with the outside world other than the Iridium so we had voted a night entry into Key West.

During the evening we slowly turned to point to Key West. The wind veered round with us and eventually settled to a WNW. We still had a push from the Gulf Stream 12nm from Key West so our curve had not been necessary. It just proves sailors of all abilities are always learning. We dropped sails around about midnight and motored into one of the many anchorages in Key West, Wisteria Island was the one we chose. There are no anchorages around this Key which are sheltered from the North wind so we knew we would probably move early in the morning. It felt good to be here but we still didn’t know what our reception would be when we tried to book in. The best bit was we had only used a third of a tank of fuel, about 50 litres, considering we were concerned about having enough fuel we did well. We reconnected with concerned family and friends then copious amounts of rum were consumed and off to bed with the alarm set for 0700.

We were flying the yellow quarantine flag which vessels fly when they are in a country but not booked in. This would attract attention so the quicker we got booked in the better. Knowing that the anchorage and mooring field round the other side at Garrison Bight would be a little more sheltered we upped anchor early and motored round. Lionel contacted the City Marina where we were told the marina and dingy dock were closed which meant the mooring field was as well which made no sense to us so we went ahead and picked up a mooring ball. The last edict we had heard was boats must be 50 feet apart with no more than ten people aboard. We were complying. Lionel activated the ROAM app to book into USA officially and I ran around tidying up the fridge in particular but the boat in general. We had had long hot showers washing hair that morning so we looked almost respectable. We ready for the video call which would probably come. The App flashed application pending which seemed to go on for hours then it changed to application being reviewed so waited in excited anticipation for the call. It never came. The application was partially approved but we had to contact the local CBP. From experience we knew this meant Ruby’s application had been granted but they wanted to see us in person to approve ours. Lionel called the CBP who informed us there was no problem and to come and see us at their office. Oh yes, there was a problem, we were not allowed onshore. Ahh. We eventually made a plan to meet them at or near the City Marina’s dingy dock. Lionel took the officer’s telephone number just in case and we busied ourselves unleashing the dingy and outboard watching the sky carefully as huge black rain clouds formed. Our lightweight rain gear was dug out and we sweated in it as we lifted the outboard onto the dingy and I emptied the spare water jugs into the aft tank so we could collect some water after we were booked in.

Two officers were waiting near the dingy dock at the sea wall as we approached. We knew it worse than we had anticipated when officials were not even allowed on the dock. It took about 15 minutes for the formalities and our passports were stamped. We were in. As they were packing up, I asked how we would get food and water if we could not get onto dry land. They more or less shrugged and walked away. I compared that with the Cubans running around to accommodate us less than a week ago. USA did not come out good in the comparison. More disappointment was to come. We approached the dingy dock and asked if we could fill our water jugs. The answer was an emphatic no. I was feet away from the water tap but they would not budge. Ah well, their country, their rules. We returned to Ruby knowing we were in for a long wait. Noonsite, a world wide news boating site that most cruisers use was full of doom and gloom and we knew things were going to get worse before they would get better.

After having time to reflect I must say that this has been in part one of our most stressful parts of our sailing adventure so far but it has also been one of the happiest and interesting. I definitely want to go back to Cuba to continue the incredible journey we started and we may do next winter. As I have already said all bets are off. We may go to Canada and Newfoundland this summer. Lionel and crew may still cross back to the UK in August. It all depends on what happens in the next few months. We do know that this autumn will not be a good time to try to sell a boat so do we really want to go back to the UK at this time or have another winter maybe partly in the Bahamas but mostly in Cuba? Time and Corona virus will tell. Watch this space.

Elsie's Cuba diary - week 3

Friday 13^th March

Up with the larks and the sails were out at 0745. Breakfast was had on the move as we slowly made our way towards Manzanillo, about 50 miles away. The forecast was slightly better today and with one reef in we beat into a force 3 wind. It was good to be sailing and not have to listen to the engine even if we were going into wind, not my favourite thing. We had decided to forego a day in Niquero and push onwards as we were hoping to get at least some fuel in Manzanillo. There was no fuel dock but if we could borrow a few jerry cans from the fishermen and get a lift to the fuel station in town we would at least have another 50 litres.

casting nets

Manzanillo sounded an interesting place. It was famous in Cuba for its French barrel organs and they had a pig roast, music and dancing every Saturday night. There were some historic sites to go and look at and of course they had shops which sold fresh produce which we desperate to get. Last but not least Manzanillo is the home of Pinellas distillery which makes and sells its own brand of rum. It was rumoured that a bottle of rum could be obtained here for 1 CUC if you bring your own bottle. I had been saving up my empty bottles and now had 4 for this purpose.

After lunch, Lionel got an AIS target on the nav screen. It was Zwailer whom we had not seen for over a week so he called them up and got some very bad news. They had not been allowed ashore in either Niquero or Manzanillo being told to head to Cienfuegos International Marina or any other Port of Entry. Corona Virus had stuck Cuba and, with three known cases in Havana, boats were only allowed to dock at Ports of Entry. That explains why the crew on Wild Iris were not allowed ashore. Zwailler had family visiting at the end of the month and they were hastily making their way to Cienfuegos to find out what was happening and to inform their family. We had no pressing engagements so made the decision to carry on and act stupid when the Garda refused us to land. It sounded stupid as we all had not been near Havana and had been in Cuba for over a fortnight. But their country, their rules.

heron? fishing

We arrived in Manzanillo at 1730 and dropped anchor near the Garda office so they did not have far to row out to us. The Captain contacted us by radio and asked all the relevant questions but did not say if we could land or not so we got ready the dinghy. Just as the outboard was secured an old fishing boat approached with five men it, one of which was wearing the olive-green uniform of the Garda. He had a medical mask and disposable gloves on. He came aboard while the others chatted excitedly in the boat alongside. The boat had an engine, of sorts. It smoked a lot and made a put-put noise. They didn’t have the safety equipment so couldn’t get close to us in case they caught the virus. He explained in Spanish we could not land and we must make our way to Cienfuegos. Lionel argued that we had not been in contact with anyone from Havana and had been in Cuba for more two weeks so it was impossible for us to have the virus. He sympathised but stuck to his guns. I thought about turning on the tears as we were running out of food, fuel and water but decided to try humour instead and made out I was upset that I couldn’t get any of their world famous rum and could he try to smuggle some aboard as a huge favour for me. He smiled but that was it. He got permission from the Captain to stamp us out for tomorrow morning so he did not have to come out again.  When he boarded the little fishing boat, we realised why there were four men in it – it took that many to start the engine, which was an ancient single cylinder diesel – one to hand crank it; one to lift the de-compressor; one to dribble petrol into the air intake and one on  the throttle.  When, at the fourth attempt, they got it started, the whole boat disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke.  Li reckoned that the engine had not had new piston rings since 1959. We clapped and waved.

It was a huge disappointment. Lionel tried looking up bus timetables but it was nigh impossible to get to this coast from anywhere we would be. We discussed all our options and came to the conclusion that because this was a once in a lifetime trip we would continue sailing round the islands until we ran out of food and water then make our way to Cienfuegos and take the consequences when we arrived there. As the crow flies there was 212nm miles to Cienfuegos. We had three quarters tank of drinking water and about the same for washing which could be topped up with rain water if it ever rained this month. The diesel tank was half full so we had to sail at least half of these miles. We do like going off track and this would definitely be against what the Cuban authorities deemed correct.

Saturday 14^th March

Happy birthday baby sister, 51 today. We don’t have internet but I did remember, honest.

Lionel had spotted a potential anchor behind a reef about 25 nm away so we headed for it first thing. The weather seemed to have developed a pattern in this area where there is wind from about 2000 at night to 1400 next afternoon then dies till the evening so if night sailing is to be avoided early morning sailing it is. We thought that each day we might get five or six hours of good sailing then when we anchor to make sure we had good shelter from the North East. Good theory. The wind died very quickly around 1230 but it was ok, we had made good time and had reached our unnamed anchorage by then. It was named Bajo Rubi Martes and Li christened it by swimming out to inspect the anchor which he could not see because of the cloudy water. Mangroves give the water a brown tinge and the nutrients from them make the water cloudy.

beautiful sunset

After lunch and a spot of sun bathing in the hammock we went out in the dinghy to inspect the reef and see if we could spot any lobsters which could be hooked from under their rocks by a sharp object. Nothing was found and the reef turned out to be a shallow area with some soft corals and an abundance of giant red starfish. It was very hot so I hid in the salon and played sudoku and read while Li sat under the sunshade and read his book. Dinner was chilli and I had soaked the kidney beans overnight but they were still hard after an hour of boiling so we reverted to the old favourite of bacon and eggs with a dollop of tomato ketchup on the side. Five of our twelve precious eggs used. Oh dear.

Ruby anchored in Rubi Matres

Sunday 15^th March

Today’s target was either 12nm or 25nm away. The wind had been blowing all night so we put the first reef in and sailed away in a north easterly force four towards our first choice. The wind quickly veered to the east and slowly dropped as we approached Cayo Rabihorcado. We dropped the sails and followed the authors detailed instructions. It looked delightful with a large expanse of sand on the lee shore which we were hoping to get over to for a walk. However, it didn’t work. We suddenly hit a shallow patch and Lionel quickly reversed and got back into deeper water. We go aground in 1.5 metres (we know this by experience) and the depth sounder had read 2metres. A bit too close for my liking and when Lionel asked if he would try again to get to the anchorage I answered no so we pulled away, raised the sails and started off to our second choice, Cayo Media Luna, Half Moon Bay which turned out to be an easy entrance and by 1300 we were anchored and tucked in behind a Cayo of mangroves, close enough to give us shelter from the nightly winds but far enough away the bugs hopefully could not reach us. A lazy afternoon of music, reading and catching up with the blog was had. Chilli for dinner.

I couldn’t help reflecting on the other Half Moon Bay we had visited in The Bahamas. That bay had been full of huge liners and thousands of people enjoying their day on a deserted island, swimming, paddle boarding, dingy sailing and horse riding with a few other people. In the Cuban version, us, sea, mangrove swamps and a few sea birds and millions and millions of stars. I wonder which one I preferred?

baby mangroves

Monday 16^th March

A 23 nm passage today to Cayo Granada. The sailing was completely down wind so we floated along with jib only at a reasonable speed and got there under 5 hours. The Cay was covered in more mangroves with nowhere to land the dingy so no walk today either. An afternoon of reading and listening to music. Lionel took it upon himself to bake some brownies and flapjacks. Neither of us have got used to the temperature settings of the new oven and now we are using a butane instead of propane the gas is burning even hotter but the baking results were good and it will keep us going in treats for a day or two. Instead of buying raw ingredients we had bought a few ready-mix cake mixtures by Betty Crocker, USAs answer to Angela Lawson we believe. We are still using grannies Anzac recipe for oatmeal cookies but have started to make then in a slab and cut them up like flapjacks. The lack of thick syrup makes them rather runny but the Barbados syrup gives them an interesting taste. I hope granny approves.

almost sand in the mangroves

Tuesday 17^th March

Our destination for today is Cayo Chocolate, so called because of the brown deposits of sea grass on the shore. The pictures in the cruising guide show a child frolicking on a beach so we had high hopes for a walk. 35nm later, some of it done under cruising chute with it poled out we had a disappointment. The beach was a few yards long and not really worth launching the dingy for.

Most of these short passages have taken us through deeper cuts in the shallows which the Cubans call Canals. They have imaginative names such as Canal de Tunas, Canal de Breton and one of my favourites, Canal de Chinchorra, it just sounds wonderful. The chart shows navigation markers of green and red but most of them are missing and the ones that are there are usually rust or white coloured – age and birds- so it pays to concentrate. The depth can change very suddenly as well and even the sonar charts cannot be truly trusted. Sand bars shift. The local fishermen don’t seem to have the same problems and we have seen them happily going over banks which our chart says are less than half a metre deep.

No chocolate was found so a packet of mini Snickers was dug out of stores and enjoyed.

tiny fish

Wednesday 18^th March

Washing water was becoming worrying low and we needed an internet fix. Lionel downloads a digital copy of The Spectator every week to keep himself informed on what is happening in the UK and it was almost two weeks since he got a new copy and we were quickly running out of Archers episodes – is Linda still alive after Grey Gables explosion? Tonight’s anchorage was in the National Park, Los Jardines de le Reina, named by Columbus for his Queen, Isabella. There was reportedly a floating hotel with internet. We were also intending to ask for 2 jugs of water, about 45 litres, which will keep us going for another 4 or 5 days. We might even splash out and pay for a meal if they serve non guests. Our destination was Canal de Caballones a mere 18nm so we left after 0800 and sailed downwind with the Jib only. We glimpsed a moored boat in one of the small bays which we rightly identified as the floating hotel. Lionel decided to anchor in the Canal instead of the marked anchor to cut down the dingy journey. The wind was still blowing so the channel was quite rocky but soon calmed down after lunch and we launched the dingy, put on more respectable clothes and made our way to Tortuga Jucaro, the boat which was used as a hotel for the well-heeled guests who came here to dive and fish under the supervision of the resort manager and his staff. We knew we were not allowed to dive, snorkel or fish here. The reason was a mystery as most cruisers are well aware of how to safeguard the marine environment. “Leave only footprints, take only photographs” is the slogan posted on most marine park beaches and Websites but their country, their rules.

coconut fish

The floating hotel was a rusty old boat that obviously had been moored in the bay for a very long time, surrounded by other smaller similar crafts which we presumed were staff quarters. There was a wooden jetty on the port side of the approach but we thought we would probably get a better response if we approached the main boat. The stern of the boat was set up with table and chairs for guests to lounge in after the days’ activities and as we approached there didn’t seem to be any staff in evidence just some English and American people getting ready for a dive. To say they were not too friendly would be an understatement. I felt like a Pariah. One woman in particular, looked down her nose as she answered Lionel’s question about where were the staff and answered with a sniff and comment that they had all been tested for Coronavirus and she didn’t think we should come aboard because we hadn’t been. Fair comment but she could have got up and gone to look for a member of staff who would have helped us instead of carrying on with her conversation and occasionally glancing at us if we were bad smells. At last a lovely lass came and explained that we could not come aboard for the reasons mentioned already. We understood the concern but asked if we could have some water. At first, she was very reluctant and said we would have to wait for the resort manager to come back but when she saw we had our jugs with us she happily filled them and sent us on our way saying we could expect a visit from Jaime, the manager. There was no internet. We left them to their holiday which allegedly cost about $3000 per person.

On return to Ruby we filled the aft water tank hoping that when Jaime came to visit, he might give us some more water. The beach looked very inviting so we went for a walk (me), stomp, (Lionel). He needs to walk fast to burn off energy and get his muscles working. I just stroll along and enjoy the feeling of terra firma. We saw a speed boat approach Ruby and circle around her. Our frantic waving from the beach attracted the occupant’s attention and we met Jaime, the resort manager who explained he needed to take a picture of Ruby’s ID number and send it to the authorities to verify we were legally in Cuba. He also repeated what we already knew, no fishing, diving snorkelling or visiting the hotel and he suggested we move around the corner into the designated anchorage after our walk. We agreed and parted on good terms.

beach walk

As he suggested we moved into the anchorage after our cup of tea and brownie. Surprisingly there was what seemed like mooring balls and after some investigation we deemed they were safe and secured to huge concrete slabs on the sea bed and prepared to tie up on one. Now, in my experience there are two types of officials in Cuba, ones who will say anything that you want to hear and make you happy (rather sleezy in my opinion) and ones that shout and point and will not deviate from Party Policy. At the moment we were trying to tie up to our chosen mooring ball we were approached by a boat containing some of the latter. Lionel, quite rightly, asked them to back off and we would talk to them when we had secured Ruby to the ball but they still insisted he give them their full attention so we aborted our mission and asked them as politely as we could what they wanted. The interpreter, not the official in the uniform, took charge and told us we could not anchor here we must tie up to a mooring ball, we cannot do any activity of any sort and we must leave first thing tomorrow morning. He seemed to think he was doing us a huge favour letting us rest for the night. I tried to tell him we had already spoken to the resort manager and had he had Ok’d us to stay for a couple of days and let us walk along the beaches. This made it worse and he demanded to see our cruising permit which had not been stamped since Manzanillo where we had been told to go to Cienfuegos which we had decided meant as long as we were going in that general direction, we would be OK. This shouty man told us we must go directly to the city tomorrow. He looked at our documents. I’m not even sure he gave them to the official inspector and seemed satisfied but insisted we tie up to a mooring ball and not anchor. What did he think we were trying to do when he approached us, but I held my tongue and smiled, something I must try to do more of in this country?

We successfully tied up to a ball and got the dingy back onboard as it looked like no more beach walks here. The small boat with the official hovered about a half mile away watching to make sure we did as we were told. He obviously had missed the customer service course in his training.

hotel clients being taken to diving site, note the speed

Thursday 19^th March

Just for the sheer hell of it I was going to suggest making it a very late start this morning but I didn’t and we set off for Cayos Cuervo with two reefs in the main sail and a scrap of jib out, it was beating into a force 4 to 5 NE wind today. It would be worth it. We had been reliably informed this anchorage was where the shrimp boats congregated and the fishermen would exchange some of their catch for coffee, lip balm, T shirts or anything else you had to exchange. I could taste them already, prawns dripping in garlic butter on a bed of noodle and maybe a curry the next evening. It was only 18nm today but as we approached our preferred spot nothing seemed to be the same as on the chart. Yes, sand bars moved but wrecks and pilings don’t. A navigational post marked the end of a long sand spit which was clearly visible from the end of one of the mangrove cays.

navigational pile

 Lots of birds were flying around and some came hopefully towards us. Obviously, the fishermen fed them and their reaction to a boat was to fly towards it for food. They were disappointed. We anchored, had lunch and went for an explore in the dingy, having a ten-minute walk on a bit of sand the mangroves hadn’t covered yet and going around the pilings which seemed to have a skeleton of a wreck attached to them. This must have been one of the fabled fishing stations that the cruising guide talks about but which we have never been able to find. A quick blast round some of the mangrove swamps, they were becoming ten a penny to us now and an investigation into another wreck which looked like it had a cannon on top of it but Lionel maintained it was an old engine block which was all that was left of a once proud ship then back to Ruby and the long wait. Yes, you guessed it no shrimp boats tonight and we had vegetable stir fry instead. Tinned vegetables with fresh onion and garlic.

another cay

Before bedtime we went up to look at the stars. Fantastic. I actually saw the whole of Orion for the first time in my life. I could always see the belt and sword but could never pick out the head and shoulders but the sky was so clear tonight that after ten minutes the milky way was there, with The Plough pointing to the Pole Star. Some people would freak out being so far from civilisation that there was no light pollution in the night sky, we love it.