2020 started with us at anchor in Marigot bay, St
Martin. Elsie’s health continued to give
concern, with occasional upset tummy and fatigue. On the 1st we had a lazy day; on
the second, she was feeling better and we took a bus from the local station
over to the Dutch side for another stock-up at the cash and carry; on the
third, we were notified that our new sail cover collar was ready so I dinghied
the length of the lagoon to collect it, getting a few last minute things from
the chandlery while down there; on the way back, I checked out. The plan was to leave the following morning
at 04:00. Unfortunately, that evening,
Elsie was once again ill, with symptoms almost of appendicitis, and we decided
to delay 24 hours. As it happened, she
was well again by the morning, but we decided to stay anyway. Looking at the weather again that evening, it
was clear that Sunday was going to have light winds, so we delayed a further 24
hours. We did get away, as planned, on
Monday and had a pleasant downwind sail to Blunder Bay, the first stop in the
B.V.I.s, arriving 30 minutes before sunset and anchoring in the lee of Prickly
Pear Island. Tuesday was laundry day
and, as we hadn’t done it for 4 weeks there was plenty to be done. We moved across to Leverick Bay, anchored and
dinghied ashore, only to find that there was only one working washing
machine. Fortunately, the only person
ahead in the queue was an employee of the resort and she graciously gave way,
so we were able to make a start. It
still took over 3 hours to complete but it was a job that needed doing. We then went over to the fuel dock to take
water, then motored round to Long Bay to anchor for the night. There were already 5 boats, occupying the
favoured area so we dropped the hook in 9 metres. The water was just too cloudy to see the
bottom 11 metres below where we settled but we believed that we were over sand.
Swimming ahead, I could see that the general area was sandy so we settled for
the night. 2 hours later there was a
grating sound as we shifted a bit and the chain ran over a rock. It will just be an isolated one, I thought.
Not so. We spent a fairly restless night
with intermittent rumblings and occasional snatches as the anchor chain leapt
from rock to rock. Fortunately, in the
morning most of the other boats left so we picked up and moved closer to the
beach.
A prolonged period of strong winds was forecast so, on the 9th,
we picked up and sailed downwind under just the genoa, to Roadtown where we picked
up one of the free moorings and had a good shop at the local supermarket. Then off again to the crook of Peter Island,
anchoring in White Bay. We had been here
last year so knew that it had good holding, shelter from the prevailing
easterly wind and a pleasant beach. We
knew we were here for a while so established a bit of a routine: up, coffee, morning news, breakfast. A bit of maintenance, a bit of Spanish
practice, a little sunbathing, lunch.
Swim ashore for a walk on the beach (the island is private, so we
couldn’t go inland), a bit more Spanish, shower. Sundowners, radio, dinner, book, bed. Elsie had another bad episode with her
digestion and research showed that, even though she had had her gall bladder
removed years before, gall stones could still be a problem. Since this latest episode definitely followed
eating a cake with cream, she decided to cut out dairy completely. At the time of writing, this seems to be
working.
The main focus of maintenance was trying to trace the origin
of water in the bilge. This time it was
fresh water. We had eliminated rain and
the forward fresh water tank. We tried
turning the pressure pump off for a couple of days. Finally, I started lifting floorboards and
found a plastic pipe which had sawn itself through rubbing on a little
bulkhead. Hurrah! And we even had the solution. Years before, I bought a selection of whale
brand fittings for just such an eventuality.
All I had to do was saw the pipe through, clean up the ends and insert a
straight fitting. Unfortunately, I had
bought 12mm instead of 15mm fittings.
Fortunately, I discovered this before making the cut, so I was able to
just tape up the hole in a temporary fix.
Other little entertainments included replacing the impeller of the bilge
pump; making up a new snubber as the
existing one was wearing through on the bow roller; making up a protecting pipe for the new one;
discovering, in the middle of the night, that the solar panel on the bimini had
torn itself loose and was in danger of leaving us and trying to ensure that
this would not happen again.
 |
| Sunset sail |
The gale finally blew itself out on the 14th and
we headed downwind then back across to Roadtown for provisions. There was a swell running in and, the mooring
buoy not having pick-ups, we gave up trying to use them after a couple of
attempts and anchored instead. We also
called in at the chandlery which, happily, had the correct fitting for our
water pipes. We bought a replacement and
some spares. Stocked up, we headed
downwind to the U.S. part of the Virgin Islands. Hoping to avoid physically checking in, we
went into the first big bay, Francis, and took one of the obligatory
moorings. Five minutes on the ‘ROAM’ ap
and we were in the CBP system with clearance pending. We were still ‘pending’ the following
morning and, eventually, decided to take a walk ashore. Of course, as soon as we landed, the CBP
message came through, instructing us to report to the nearest office ASAP. We decided to have our walk anyway. Along the beach, over the hill to the next
bay and back encountering, to some surprise, a couple of grazing deer. Back on board we sailed, under genoa, down
towards Cruz Bay. Our intention was to
anchor just to the south but there is a very small area to do this so, spotting
a vacant mooring ball just to the north, we had a quick change of plan and
picked it up. As we were doing this, we
noticed a cruising yacht being escorted to the next buoy along by a coastguard
boat, blue lights flashing. After lots
of backing, filling and shouting, they got tied up and the coastguard
departed. Into the dinghy and round to
Cruz Bay. Checked in and a quick wander
round the supermarket. Back to Ruby for
lunch then t her round to Cruz Bay for a top-up of water then motored round to
our ‘regular’ anchorage in Rendezvous Bay.
 |
| Deer |
We heaved up at 08:15 on the 16th and, with one
reef in the main, sailed down to St Croix.
We managed to avoid the showers, which appeared to be being sparked by
Virgin Gorda, but still caught some of the gusts including five minutes of
30-35 knots. We had reefed the genoa
when we saw it coming but, with only one reef in the main, hand steering was
required until it passed. We headed into
the anchorage to the west of Buck Island and were cheered when the only other
boat, a day-tripper, departed at 16:00.
Not so cheered when a fellow cruiser came to share the anchorage at
sunset but he, obligingly, departed the following morning leaving us in
splendid isolation. Coffee then dinghied
ashore for a walk up the trail to the top if the island and down the other
side, managing to do so before the first tourist boat appeared at 09:30. Many other boats joined us during the day but
they all left so we had another night alone.
At least until 9 PM, when we heard a loud horn. Poking our heads out, there was a coastguard
RIB with blue flashing lights. We had
been working on the assumption that the requirement for a permit to visit the
island was still in abeyance. Were we
about to be disabused? No. there had, apparently, been flares fired
earlier – had we seen anything? No.
 |
| Local hero, Fredriksted |
An early rise again on Saturday. Starting the outboard, for our trip ashore, I
felt discomfort in my lower back. I have
had back problems going back decades, with three crushed lumber vertebrae at
the root. By being careful, I have
avoided pain for many years and put this down to early morning stiffness.
Lifting the dinghy onto the beach brought a little more pain and I should have
given up there but I was looking forward to my exercise and marched to the top
of the hill and back, while Elsie opted for a level beach walk. Going up was fine but on the way down I felt
a jarring with every step and, by the time we were back on board, I was in
considerable discomfort. We picked up
after breakfast and Elsie sailed us down the coast to Frederiksted under Genoa
while I lay down and nursed my back. On
Sunday, things were worse – I could hardly move. Even the gentle exercises I remembered from
previous events were beyond me, so it was a boring day of lying down and taking
the tablets. On Monday, I was a little
better and we went ashore for a little wander round the town (Elsie starting
the outboard). There were many people on
the streets and when we got to the park we found seating laid out, music
playing and stalls set up. Being from
the other side of the Atlantic, we were unaware that it was Martin Luther King
Day. We found ourselves seats in the
shade and waited for the parade, which was mostly schools, with a couple of
marching bands. We stayed long enough
for anthems: US, Virgin Islands and Black but excused ourselves after the first
of about 10 speeches. Back to Ruby for
another day of nursing my back. On
Tuesday, we went for a little tour of the island by getting the public bus to
Christiansted and back, using the hour between busses for va walk round the
town.
 |
| Time for us to leave |
We now had a little dilemma.
The anchorage at Frederiksted is good for winds from the Eastern
semi-circle, which covers 99% of the time.
On Thursday, however, it was forecast to veer to the south-west and then
clock round to the north-west before becoming light and variable for several
days. With my back still playing up, I
wasn’t ready for the long walk down to the point, which was one of the things
we had been looking forward to when we came here, if we hesitated, we could be
stuck for a week. We had almost decided
to leave on Wednesday morning when we spotted a large cruise ship heading our
way and that was the final factor. Up
anchor and, expecting the wind to be just east of south, set off initially
under just genoa. It steadied at ESE so
we had a change of plan, hoisted the main, and had a great broad reach up to
the eastern end of St Thomas. We went
somewhere different, due to the forecast wind, to Redhook Bay. This is a busy little ferry port and most of
the anchorage is taken up with moorings but we managed to find a spot and
anchored for the night. It was not the
most comfortable with ferry and other traffic but this died down late at night and
we slept well. On Thursday, we dinghied
ashore and caught a ‘safari’ bus into Charlotte Amelie, the main town. A little wander round here then we tried to
get out to the western side. This wasn’t
very successful as the official busses only run 3 times a day and safari busses
don’t go there at all. We weren’t
prepared to pay for a taxi to what would probably just be a tourist resort so,
3 busses later, we found ourselves back where we had started. There was an adequate supermarket, so we
stocked up with a few day’s food and returned to Ruby. The wind was due to box the compass during the
night and, as we were anchored close to mooring balls (including one which had
been reinstated during the day), we moved further out. Not only did this put us in deeper water, it
also took us out of the no-wake zone and a particularly large wash from a ferry
took out Elsie’s sundowner rum before she had even taken a sip. Not a happy
bunny. On Friday, we motored round to
Magens Bay, on the north side of St Thomas.
This has a half mile long beach, frequently listed as being in the world’s
top ten. With the odd winds of the past
few days there was a bit of a swell running in, but we found a spot in the
north east corner where it wasn’t too bad and settled in for a lazy afternoon. The next couple of days we spent having an
early morning trip ashore (we weren’t allowed to beach the dinghy but I could drop
Elsie, moor the dinghy on a little buoy and swim ashore to join her) a healthy
walk up and down the beach before the hoards arrived, then going back for lazy
days.
We had our final trip ashore on Tuesday morning then picked
up and motored the 20 miles to Culebra in the Spanish Virgin Islands, anchoring
in the beautifully protected Ensenada Honda.
Ashore to check in at the airport.
The last time we did this, 3 years before, all had gone smoothly. This time, we were refused entry to the DHS
office and told to phone headquarters.
They, in turn, told us to use the ROAM ap. 2 minutes to enter our details; 30 minutes to
get a response ‘stand-by for video conference’; a further hour of sitting,
watching the screen until I was down to 10% battery. Time to go back to Ruby. Now the heavens opened, so we waited another
20 minutes until the rain reduced to a steady drizzle. Halfway through, Elsie remembered that she
had left hatches open so, again, not a happy bunny. Back at the dinghy dock, the outboard wouldn’t
start so a long row back to the mothership.
There, we found that we had a message saying that they were now ready
for the video conference but, by the time I responded, they had gone. We finally managed it at 20:00 only to be
told that we had to return to the office that had refused to talk to us 4 ½ hours
earlier, to get our passports stamped and cruising licence issued. On Wednesday morning, I took advantage of
the flat calm, and morning cool, conditions to go up the mast to check that all
was well (it was). We then went back to
the DHS office. Elsie was still a little
aggravated about the run-around and waited outside, to just pop in and have her
fingerprints checked at the appropriate time.
I think our displeasure was apparent as it was a very formal process,
they accepting our entry to the USVI’s as being continuous, and dating
everything from then, so they didn’t have to face her wrath. We stocked up on fresh food then picked up and
headed the mile or so out to a mooring field protected by a reef. We entered slowly and I went just outside the
moorings, looking for the vacant on. I
glanced down at the depth gauge to see it go from 3.5 to 2.5 metres. Into
astern, but not quickly enough to prevent it going to 1.5 and us gently sliding
to a halt.
A quick check on the state of
the tide showed that we were just past high water so rapid action was
needed. Going astern wasn’t enough, so
we got out our little kedge and I was about to run it out when a neighbouring
boat offered assistance so I gratefully handed it to them. Unfortunately, it didn’t set properly,
despite 4 attempts and even them hauling on our halliard to heel us, reducing
our draft, wasn’t enough. A quick
underwater inspection showed that we had just grazed the side of a sand bank so
I ran out the main anchor to see if we could pull the bow round and go out
forwards. No. I then assembled our larger, Fortress, kedge
and ran that out astern. It set very
well but was still insufficient to pull us off.
We gave up for the day. The tidal
range was only about a foot and conditions were calm so there was no danger. I decided that the stern anchor could be better
positioned so went out in the dinghy to try to move it, only to find it
completely buried. I tried to dig it
out just using snorkel gear but failed. The
following morning, I got out my little SCUBA set and managed to dig out the
anchor, put a tripping line on it and repositioned it. Our neighbours vacated
their buoy and we ran a breast line from our stern to that. We then waited until
the tide was back to the height it had been the previous afternoon. Slack
the main anchor; half astern and tension our new breast line and she just slid
off. I slipped our 2 stern lines, we
picked up the anchor and tied up to the buoy while I retrieved the Fortress,
which came up nicely on the tripping line, then we moved to another buoy for a
well-deserved break. It was flat calm in
the afternoon so we went out in the dinghy for a very slow wander round the
reef. Lack of ripples and very clear
water meant we could see it perfectly but it was insufficiently interesting for
us to stop, anchor and explore further with snorkels. On
Thursday morning, we let go at 09:00, intending to go about 4 miles to
Cayo de Louis Pena but, going round a corner after a mile, we saw a little bay
with no boats and 2 mooring balls, so went in there instead.
Monthly stats:
Over Ground 268
Log 282
