In which we continue our way through the Leewards, back to the Virgin Ilsands, buying a new boat on the way.
We started February 2019 at anchor in the lagoon at Sint Maarten. On Friday, I collect the bimini cover then another shopping expedition for short-term groceries and a well deserved lazy afternoon. On Saturday, we decided to move on again so booked out then went for a top-up of water before catching the 10:30 bridge and motoring round to France. Only 2 miles by dinghy but 9 round the coast. Check-in took longer than planned as our first two attempts were met with closed stores but we finally managed. On Sunday, we just motored 5 miles up the coast to Grande Case, a small tourist resort, dinghying in to have a pleasant stroll and an ice cream.
We started February 2019 at anchor in the lagoon at Sint Maarten. On Friday, I collect the bimini cover then another shopping expedition for short-term groceries and a well deserved lazy afternoon. On Saturday, we decided to move on again so booked out then went for a top-up of water before catching the 10:30 bridge and motoring round to France. Only 2 miles by dinghy but 9 round the coast. Check-in took longer than planned as our first two attempts were met with closed stores but we finally managed. On Sunday, we just motored 5 miles up the coast to Grande Case, a small tourist resort, dinghying in to have a pleasant stroll and an ice cream.
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| Other yachts at St Martin |
On Monday, we had a
short sail up to Tintamarre island. For the exercise, I rigged the
inner forestay with our newly adjustable fitting and we beat up into
a 15 knot wind with greater ease. Tintamarre is in a conservation
zone and mooring balls are provided, so we took one and then took the
dinghy ashore for a stroll. There is a good beach with, behind it,
low scrub from abandoned farmland and what had been the first
airstrip in the Leeward Islands. We navigated our way through this
and found another deserted beach on the Atlantic side, well protected
by a reef and remarkably clean. On Tuesday morning, we went for an
early walk back across to the Atlantic side and up to the North. It
was slow going, first on pebbly beach, then rocks, then moorland.
Halfway up, we were joined by a goat kid, apparently missing its
mother. It followed, then led us, presumably believing that, as we
were large and mobile we would provide some milk. Eventually we saw
some adult goats and handed over responsibility. We managed to get ¾
of the way round the island then encountered thicker scrub and had to
retrace our steps. Having only expected to walk for less than an
hour we had neither water or sun protection and, after 2 hours, we
were pleased to get back ‘home’. On Wednesday morning, as I went
for a pleasant little snorkel, the park rangers called on Elsie and
informed her that we should not have stayed overnight. Oops but,
despite further internet searches, we could not find this written
anywhere. We then picked up and, just using genoa,
sailed across to Oriental, a tourist resort on the windward side of
St Martin. There are 2 possible anchorages: one open to the
South-East, from where the wind was blowing and the other nicely
protected. The first was crowded and the second deserted so we
picked a prime spot and dropped the hook. The downside was that it
was near the tourist beach and there were various motorised water
users. And of course, we weren’t alone for long as sailors are a
bit like glider pilots in gathering round someone who seems to be
doing well. Ashore to buy bread and, just as we were beaching the
dinghy, we were hit by the wake of a speedboat, tumbling Elsie into
the water and bouncing the motor on the transom. Elsie was in some
discomfort, but would recover; the transom, however, showed greater
than ever signs of coming apart.
On Thursday, it was
a return to Marigot. We decided to stay on the French side, and
dinghy down to Island Water World 2 ½ miles away to discuss the
dinghy. While we are certain that it was they who had wrecked it, we
had no proof. We had spent the last 2 months knowing that Rubette’s
days were numbered so had done some research and even looked at a few
possibilities. We preferred to get another fully inflatable roll-up
one that we could stow away for ocean passages but, on looking at
those available, didn’t particularly like the look of any. One
available in the U.K. for about £1600 looked better but it would
take over a week and another £500 to ship it out. Fibreglass RIBs,
were too heavy to lift on board, or beach, but we found an aluminum
(American) one that actually weighed less than Rubette and decided to
go for it, negotiating a 15% discount. As Rubette’s transom was,
by now, in danger of giving way altogether, we borrowed the courtesy
dingy again and towed our sad little tender back home. On Friday, we
collected our new tender, still unnamed despite a Facebook call for
suggestions, and did a final provisioning run over to Philipsburg.
Saturday morning was spent checking out, buying a new security wire
for the dinghy and topping up with water and petrol; the afternoon
was spent relaxing as we had decided to do an over-nighter across to
the British Virgin Islands for a daylight arrival. We picked up at
20:15 and had a great broad reach across with an Easterly F4,
arriving at Prickly Pear bay, just across from Richard Branson’s
Necker, exactly 12 hours and 80 miles later and enjoyed a lazy Sunday
recovering. Monday morning we sailed downwind under genoa only to
Roadtown to check in. There was misleading information about where
to do this as the usual place had been destroyed by 2017 hurricanes
but was now operational again. We also hit the back of a ferry
arrival crew and some of the rudest officials yet but held my
patience with a fixed smile. The anchorage here was pretty rocky and
non-scenic so we picked up again and sailed South to Peter island,
anchoring for the night in South bay. This was well protected but
the wind was directed by the topography to give us a westerly facing
us away from the sunset. Swiz! There was also some kind of
industrial activity with a generator running all night so, on Tuesday
morning, we moved ½ mile up the coast to another anchorage,
fortuitously arriving just as the boat in the prime spot was picking
up so we hovered until they left and bagged it.
Monthly stats:
Log 279
Over ground 271
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| New dinghy |
For nearly the last
5 years, I have been reporting back to my surgeon in Aberdeen every
few months for a check-up. I am now ‘on licence’ provided I get
my mouth looked at every few months by a suitably qualified
professional. The BVIs seemed like a good place to do this, so I
started calling round. The first orthodontist offered an appointment
in six month; the second said that they were booked up until next
year, but had just had a cancellation for that afternoon. A rapid
decision made: up anchor and back to Road Town. A bit of research
had found that there were a few buoys available, free, for daytime
use so we found one of these to tie up to. The location wasn’t
great, either scenically or for comfort so, after my appointment,
away again to Peter Island, this time just stopping in the lee of a
little hook in Key bay. This was fine over night but, in the
morning, the wind turned south of east, bringing swell in so it was
time to move again. There was an obvious bay less than 2 miles
south, on Norman Island. It looked so good on the chart that we
expected it to be packed but there were only 2 boats in it so we were
able to find a good spot and settled in for a few days of relaxation.
Just a swim that afternoon but there was an extensive network of
trails, accessible from the beach so, the following 2 mornings we had
long, healthy walks, followed by relaxing afternoons in the sun.
After our (for us) recent hectic pace, this was a real tonic.
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| Ruby at Benures bay |
On Saturday, 16th,
we were getting low on food so, reluctantly, we left Benures bay and
headed back to Road Town, again taking one of the free buoys. This
was seriously bad timing as Saturday is change-over day for the
charter boats and the supermarket was crammed with people stocking
up, often with 2-3 trolleys in train. The check-out queue wasted
half an hour but we managed to get what we wanted so headed out
again, putting up the cruising chute to take us to the bottom of
Tortola then motoring a mile up to Belmont bay, where we had stopped
a couple of years ago. Anchoring was fine but, in the night, the
wind changed moving our chain round a rock so it made horrible
grating noises in the small hours. On Sunday, we decided to sail up
the coast of Tortola looking at, and rejecting, several anchorages on
the way. We eventually decided to continue back to Virgin Gorda and
anchored at the north end of Long Bay. This proved to be a
beautifully protected spot with some great snorkelling along the
edges. The gloss was taken off by a charter flotilla arriving in the
early evening and parking unnecessarily close to us. After a bit of
water skiing they settled down to be mostly well behaved but, with a
wind shift, one of them was parked right over our anchor when we
wanted to leave in the morning and we had to ask them to move. Blank
looks, so we just dragged the anchor out from under them.
The wind was due to
shift again, round to North of East, so we headed north to Anegada,
avoiding the main anchorage / mooring field at Setting Point and
opting instead for the smaller, less well protected spot at Pomato
Point. This is rolly with swell south of east but was bearable on
arrival and got better during our stay of 3 nights. Each day, we
went for a walk, either along the road to the main mooring area,
where there are beach bars, scooter hire and a small shop but better
along a lovely, deserted beach. We continued our seemingly aimless
wanderings on the 21st with a great beam reach back south
to Prickly Pear Island, out first stop. We believed that there were
trails that we could walk on here but investigation the next morning
proved fruitless, so we headed to Leverick Bay on the south side of
Gorda Sound to do some laundry, a little shopping and a top-up of
water, then headed out and down the coast back to Long Bay. We
couldn’t see any access from the beach here to the interior so, the
next morning took the dinghy a mile down the coast and walked up
through a private development, back to our bay and, sure enough,
found access although there was only a short stretch of the beach
which didn’t have a rocky shore so landing might have been
interesting.
On the 24th,
we wandered downwind, under just the genoa, looking at possible
anchorages on Beef Island and Tortola, but nothing appealed, so we
just popped into Road Town for a little provisioning then back to
Benures Bay on Norman. There were several yachts here already
(including a Canadian, who had been here the previous week) so we had
to anchor further out than ideal. While we walked the length of the
island, the following morning, they all disappeared, so we were able
to move in closer. Having an empty bay was good because our windlass
was now very sick and overheating if asked to pick up more than 30
metres of chain. We picked up 20, paused, then the rest. Having the
space to ourselves also allowed us to play at putting out a
Mediterranean moor: anchoring, then running lines ashore. We did
this a few times in Greece but hadn't since. Since one has to nip
ashore with the line in the dinghy, the other has to drive the mother
ship and present the stern to take it. We are lazy in sticking to
our roles and Elsie gets little opportunity to drive Ruby under
power, so having plenty of time and space enabled us to have several
‘dry runs’ and it all went smoothly. The wind shifted while we
were mooring and, broadside to it, we were putting quite a strain on,
so we let go our shore line and just swung to our anchor. Swimming
over this later, I regretted that decision as the cable was lying
over some rocks and would, no doubt, rub on them overnight. It did.
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| Southern side of Norman |
On our walks along
the spine of the island, we had looked at Money Bay, on the south
side. This looked well sheltered from any wind north of east and was
always deserted so on Tuesday, 26th, we picked up, to the
evident relief of the Canadians, who had arrived back to a crowded
bay the previous evening and now quickly nipped into our spot and
motored round. The bottom was quite different to the chart – twice
as deep and fringed with a coral reef. Our first attempt at
anchoring left us too close to this for an overnight stay and, with
grass covering the centre, we could not be assured of the anchor
biting on a second go. As we would have to put out 40+ metres of
chain, we didn’t want to have to have multiples goes so, after a
few hours of soaking up the sun, we picked up and headed north to
White Bay on Peter Island. Each time we had seen, or briefly visited
here before, it had been crowded but this time we had it to
ourselves. It is a picture perfect sandy bay which had been an
up-market tourist resort before the 2017 hurricanes but was now
deserted apart from one cabana with some cane furniture and a line of
buoys preventing visiting yachts getting close to the non-existent
swimmers. I swam ashore that evening and we rowed the dinghy in the
following morning for a little investigate. The only access to the
interior was not inviting so we stayed on the beach. A few yachts
came and went during the day, including one 45 metre sloop, which we
looked up as being available for £100,000 per week + expenses but,
by the time that the sun was going down there was just us and one
other so we mixed up some rum punch, rowed ashore again and watched
it set from the luxury of our own cabana.
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| Our 'sundowners' cabana |
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| Sunset over Peter Island |
It seemed like time
to move onto a new country so, on Thursday, we headed back to Road
Town to check out. If I’d thought the officials bad on checking
in, they were worse checking out. Replying to a cheery ‘good
morning’ with a grunt was only a start. Although we had followed
their directions on checking in, there was ‘an error’. And it was
our fault. We might have got away with bad grace had one of them not
stated that Elsie was not a ‘bona fide’ crew member. Suffice it
to say that an hour of our day was lost, followed by further hours on
following days with letters of complaint. We trudged back to the
supermarket for a final top-up, and escaped. The wind was fair and
we had a good broad reach down Sir Francis Drake channel and round to
Cruz Bay on St Johns, USVI, anchoring outside and dingying in. Here
we were met with a smiling ‘Good afternoon sir, madam and sent on
our way with ‘Welcome to the USVIs, have a great stay’. From
here, we motored the 3 miles round to Rendezvous Bay, where we had
stayed 2 years before. Once again, we had it to ourselves, though
one of the houses, which had been under construction before was now
in use and had a loud sunset party on the verandah. We thought of
complaining but decided to be tolerant.
Monthly stats:
Log 279
Over ground 271
