April 2019

In which we mooch about the Bahamas and have our first ever long term guests.

We started April at anchor off Rum Cay, one of our favourite Bahamian islands. We had only wandered round the village at Port Nelson before but decided to explore a little further. Following the road to the west took us through scrub, with the occasional house on one side and semi-cleared plots on the other. After about a mile, where the chart shows the road ending, we came to what seems to have been an attempt to build a resort, on the lines of Rodney Bay or Jolly Harbour. There were large excavations into the limestone to make a marina area and equally large levelled areas for shops or housing. It had obviously been abandoned years before. We continued west and found a pleasant beach to walk along, though we didn’t see anywhere to land a dinghy. On return, we managed to follow the beach all the way back to Port Nelson, scrambling back up to the road near the cemetery. A quick stop at Kay’s, this time to exchange a few books, clocked us over 6 miles. Not bad exercise in the heat. Back to Ruby for lunch, a little sunbathing and a bit more bottom polishing. Nearly done now.

Fossilised palm leaf, Rum Cay

The forecast for Tuesday 2^nd gave a SE’ly F3 and, with only 20 miles to go, seemed like a good time to head off to Conception Island, another favourite. We started well enough, using genoa rather than cruising chute as we could see large clouds on our route. As we passed the end of Rum Cay, these produced a NE’ly wind followed by heavy rain. The rain soon cleared and the wind veered round to the east, but although we set the genoa again it never really filled and we had to motor, slowly to conserve fuel, most of the way. We were shocked, on arrival, to see lots of boats. We had never had to share the anchorage with more than about 3 before but now there were 12. We managed to find a spot not far from where I reckoned would give protection when the wind rose in 36 hours time and were relieved when a 14^th boat arrived for luck.

The third dawned bright and calm and, now that we have a half decent dinghy, decided to explore the interior of the island. This required us to motor about 2 miles south, then negotiate a tricky entrance to the creek. Once inside, we slowed right down and enjoyed a leisurely cruise for another mile or so upstream. I had spent years, in Nigeria, living with mangrove swamps but these were beautiful, with clear water, nesting frigate birds and lots of turtles. One of these swam with us for a while.  Back out and up the coast a bit, we found a nice beach to land on and had it all to ourselves for the rest of the morning. Back for lunch, got the SCUBA set out to finish the bottom cleaning (not comfortable doing the keel with snorkel) then dinghied off in the other direction to explore the reef. It was OK, but not as good as some we have seen this year. A diversion on return took us to there the main beach, where some Americans were playing cricket. We wondered whether to offer advise but decided instead to cross over to visit the small beach on the north east side. This, again, was deserted so we decided that we had had a pretty good day, despite the crowds. The following day was spent more quietly, with just a trip down to our ‘private’ beach.

The weather forecast indicated that the weekend would be calm, followed by westerly winds. This would not be comfortable, so we decided to move while we could and, on Friday, picked up at 08:30 and headed towards Cat Island on a broad reach with an E’ly F4. Good progress was made up to Hawknest Point, interrupted only by landing our third ever fish, a mahi-mahi or dolphin fish. Having motored so much over the last few weeks, and with an unreliable fuel gauge, we needed a top-up so went in for fuel. It would not be my first choice of stop as it was the most expensive diesel we had ever bought, at $6.25 per US gallon and it is also a tricky entrance. The wind helped us alongside but hindered departure. We had to move the outboard from its usual spot, so that it didn’t act as a fender and had a little twang from the wind generator pole as it encountered a piling but managed with no damage. From here, we continued up to New Bight, anchoring at 16:55. As we settled to our evening cocktails, we heard music and realised that there was a Fish Fry occurring. We regretted not going ashore until the music was replaced with and amplified voice. This sounded like a revivalist preacher, so decided that we were betted where we were.

Fish for supper

On Saturday morning, we were just preparing to launch the dinghy when a couple from another yacht popped over for a chat. As they were heading ashore to go shopping, they gave us a lift and we all walked the mile or so to the store and back. On Sunday, we did launch and walked up the hill to the highest point in the Bahamas, at 106 ft, and Father Jerome’s hermitage. Monday, back ashore to try to sort our mobile networks. This failed due to a smiling but obstructive BTC employee, so it looked like we were going to lose some paid for data.

It was then time to move again. The wind was forecast to change to south westerly, which would be uncomfortable in our current position, so we headed 7 miles across the bay to anchor at McQeen’s, opposite a long sandy beach. On Tuesday, after spending an hour or so getting our ALIV data working, we beached the dinghy and went for a walk. It was just going to be a little stroll but somehow we talked ourselves into walking all the way to Hawknest point and back. This was 4 miles each way and we had failed to bring water so Elsie was drooping a bit on the way back. I gallantly strode ahead and picked her up in the dinghy (which answered the question of whether I would be able to launch it from a beach on my own), saving her the last mile or so. We were unsure of how comfortable we were going to be on the Wednesday, as the wind was going to swing further to the west and increase to 20 knots but, as the worst of it was going to be during daylight hours, decided to stay put, just adding a bit of anchor cable and a longer snubber to absorb any shock loads. There was nowhere within 50 miles to anchor that would give us protection so, if it didn’t work out, we would just have to pick up, put out and heave-to. It rained heavily, keeping us inside for the day but we were headed directly into the waves so it wasn’t too uncomfortable. This changed a bit at the end of the day, when the wind dropped and veered a little and we rolled for a few hours.

On Thursday, we decided to move again. We were now looking ahead at the weather, to ensure that we could get down to Georgetown to meet our guests in ten day’s time. Wed reckoned that we had time to go to the north of Cat Island, to visit one of our favourite places, Orange Creek, get back to the current area and be in a position to launch south in a week’s time. The wind was supposed to be diminishing through the day so, with a S’ly F4 we hoisted the cruising chute and headed north. An hour later, the wind was gusting F5, so we replaced this with full genoa. An hour after that we came out from the lee of Hawks Nest and the swell started to get uncomfortable. As there was nowhere up the coast that would give any respite from this, we made a quick decision to abort. Our starting point was directly into wind so we couldn’t just do a180 but, fortunately, I had prepared the main so we put that up with a couple of reefs in and headed as close to the wind as we could. The wind did now start to drop so we shook out one reef. We had to go round a shoal area before we could head directly to New Bight and the end of that shoal was our decision point: New Bight or back to McQueen’s. At that point, the swell was diminishing so we chose a middle way and just continued, close hauled, to Old Bight, a few miles south of N.B. This proved a good decision as it gave us somewhere new, opposite a pristine, deserted 4 mile beach. We dinghied on to it and walked into the village, getting a few vegetables but missing out on bread as the baker closed just as we returned. The following day, needing stores, we motor sailed the 4 miles up to New Bight and walked to the store. Hanging out a thumb on return gave an immediate result and we were taken back to the dinghy by a local policeman who enlightened us about earlier activity. The Governor General of the Bahamas was visiting. Groceries onboard, we did a further run to get cooking gas, outboard petrol and a couple of cans of water. As it was Friday, we decided to sample the fish fry. This turned out to be a total damp squib. We had a beer at the ‘Sailing Club’ which was the only place with music. A couple of policemen, still in their ceremonials from earlier, and a couple of local drunks were the rest of the clientele. Several other shacks were open, but there was little custom and no delicious cooking smell so we returned to Ruby for a quick pasta meal instead.

Brothers

On Saturday, after another water run, we headed back down to Old Bight. Unfortunately, several others had the same idea but, with a 3 mile beach, we were able to spread ourselves out and, on my afternoon walk, I only had to say ‘howareyou’ once. The wind was due to veer a little more so, on Sunday, we sailed the 6 miles back to McQueens, parking close to where we had before. On going ashore, we explored the other direction. Strangely, here the sand was just a bit softer and the beach a bit steeper, making it hard going so, on Monday, we went west again, though not as far as we had been before. I idled away most of the rest of the day while Elsie did a bit of cleaning – we don’t want our guests to think that we are total slobs. All the while, we are watching weather, both to make sure that we can be in the right place to collect our guests and to try to plan an itinerary with them that will show them some nice places without too much beating into wind. Tuesday was wet, alternating tropical downpour with just damp and miserable. The forecast showed light, cyclonic, winds but, by mid afternoon, they had settled into a North Easter. We had a six mile fetch from this direction and, as we were considering heading that way anyway, we picked up and motored to a point between New and Old Bight. Here, there was a laundromat and, on Wednesday morning, we dinghied in with several weeks worth of washing. The place was deserted but we managed to track down the owner, a very nice chap who also happened to be a pilot, who had done his British CPL at the same college as me. Unfortunately, mains power was down, so the driers couldn’t be used but we managed a couple of washes and used his outside hose for a couple of water runs. Back on Ruby, the noise from his generator was a bit intrusive, so we motored a mile south to our previous slot off the beach and festooned Ruby in the washing which dried pretty quickly in the 15 knot breeze. While Elsie watched, to make sure nothing blew away, I dinghied ashore and had a good walk along the beach.

It's a sign

On Thursday, it was time to head towards Georgetown to be ready for our guests. Anchor up at 07:30 and, with a light following wind, motored towards Haws Nest. 30 minutes later, a line of showers to our south veered and increased the wind, giving us a nice (well nice-ish, as it was raining) beam reach to the point. As the wind was dying, we put away the genoa and motored through the inside passage, which we hadn’t explored before. It saved a mile or so, but I wouldn’t want to do it except in good conditions. Once south of Hawks Nest, the wind obligingly backed again and we headed on track initially with one reef in main and Genoa, close hauled. For once, the wind behaved exactly as forecast, increasing to 18 knots, leading us to put a second reef in and then backing further so that, by the time we were in the lee of Long Island, we were on a beam reach. Entering the sound was straightforward and we motored a couple of miles to work our way in behind Man of War Cay to a small anchorage. This is well away from the Georgetown zoo and is noted to give good protection from almost all wind directions, though some reviews remarked that it was rolly. The reviews were correct, but the current kept us head to swell so it was bearable and, with a soft sand bottom giving great holding, very secure. An hour pouring over the next week’s weather didn’t yield any concrete plan. Each time we look, it changes just a little to make yesterday’s plan look unworkable.  On Friday, we motored down to Georgetown. Despite the brisk southerly wind, most cruisers were still in the north side of the harbour to be close to Chat n Chill, so we were able to drop our anchor in our usual spot, opposite Regatta point. It was a wet day and, being Good Friday, everything was closed, so we did little. Saturday was provisioning day. I did a water run while Elsie did a stores inventory then we hit Exuma Markets and bought food for the week. A heavy shower came through and, as we had forgotten the bailer, the bags got a little soggy. While I took the first load back, Elsie replenished our rum stocks. A break in the clouds later permitted us to go ashore for a little walk.

I was ashore again on Sunday morning at 8, to do last top-ups of water and petrol for the dinghy and then go to the airport to meet our guests. Hanging out a thumb got me there in 2 rides, strangely with the same woman who stopped to do a little tidying at her house on the way to church. The plane was 40 minutes late but we still had time for the day’s plan.

The forecast had continued to be fluid and there was no ideal solution. One option was to head north west along the Exumas, but we would have to cut in and out. With strong on-shore winds this would make timing of entrances tricky. Instead, we headed up to the north of Long Island. Winds were light, so it was a motor. The anchorage had a reputation for being rolly but, on arrival was flat calm and with winds forecast to be from the north east overnight we retired happy. As the wind picked up, we discovered that the reviews were correct and it became uncomfortable. Up early, to sail back to Cat Island, and we found that the wind had just backed sufficiently to make that voyage an into wind one. I had rigged the inner forestay and we set off with full main, genoa and jib. We reefed the plain sails a few hours later, then took down the jib. As the wind continued to back, we had to start the engine and motor-assist. Up past Hawks Nest, we tacked round and found that we could motor sail on the port tack back to our favourite spot on the East side of the bay. We spent the next 2 days here, walking to the village to find all stores closed on Tuesday and then beach walking, swimming and generally being lazy.

Albi & Di in tropical gear

On Thursday morning we motored the 4 miles up to New Bight to enable Albi and Di, experienced in Himalayan and Andes expeditions, to climb Mount Alvernia. An easterly wind was building so we then headed up the coast to find somewhere to launch from the following morning. That somewhere turned out to be a shallow cove at Big Bluff. 3 of us swam to the cliffs and had a little snorkel along them.

We had about 65 miles to go to Rock Sound, not somewhere to approach in the dark, so we rose at 03:30 on Friday, heaving the anchor up at 04:00. We were able to broad reach away with a building south easterly and made fine progress past little San Salvador (where we saw several yachts anchored seemingly exposed to the southerly swell), and the southern tip of Eleuthera. A passing convergence line veered the wind sufficiently to allow us to follow the coast up to Cape Eleuthera, then a short goose wing run took us to the Davis passage. The wind now increased, forcing us to put a reef in while sailing on a beam reach, and then further necessitating a second reef as we turned towards Deucy rocks. We had intended to proceed to Rock Sound village and go ashore for the Friday night Fish Fry but, with the wind now west of south, it would have given a 3 mile fetch and probable uncomfortable night so instead we headed to Pigeon Bay. We were not certain of the anchor holding here as there are reportedly large areas of hard bottom and a catamaran ahead of us was just giving up after several attempts. Whether by luck or judgement (Elsie on the bow looking for likely spots) we managed to find a patch of sand big and deep enough for our hook to dig in and we settled in. There were a couple of large rocks nearby, so we launched the dinghy and had an interesting swim round them seeing lots of flora and fauna including a lion fish. These are an invasive species and one is supposed to kill them on sight but, as they are covered in venomous spines and we had no spear or protective clothing, we left this one alone. Saturday morning, we picked up to motor the 3 miles to the town but, 20 minutes later, a shower approached and rather than get needlessly wet, we stopped and re-anchored while it passed. There were many more yachts anchored at the town than in previous years but we still managed to get a good spot and dinghied in. First stop was the laundromat, with just one load to keep us current, then to the supermarket for a good shop. Lunch, then back ashore for a longer walk round the town and ocean hole. A final run for me to the stand-pipes at the beach ensured that our water tanks were full.

Canadians on board.

On Sunday, with slack winds, we motored the 2 miles across the bay to Deucy Rocks, our first anchorage 2 years ago. This time, we tucked right into a little bay and, even though it was going to be a temporary stop, I went through the usual routine, including a good tug astern to make sure that the anchor was well dug in. Just the other side of a little bar were 3 or 4 dolphins, which seemed to be greeting passing yachts, so we launched the dinghy, motored over to their general area and swum to see if they wished to join us. They didn’t, so, with a brief look at a small reef, went back to Ruby to wait out a shower. Something made me put on my anchor position tracker, which was fortunate as, after a big gust, I saw us start to move. Our anchor, rather than digging in, had caught on a rock. This had now lifted and was jammed in the bill of the anchor. A very rapid engine start and pick up in pouring rain took us to safety but we had been far closer to Deucy Rocks than I would wish. This time, we anchored a prudent distance out and, after lunch, took the dinghy back to snorkel round the rocks. The water was a little murky with all the wave action from squalls but we saw a few fish, including another lion fish.

Monday morning was decision time. We had been watching the weather closely and I had hoped that we would be able to work our way up Eleuthera through the week and cross over to Abacos on Thursday in time to drop our guests off at the weekend. This now looked impossible as there was going to be a gusting 20 knot+ wind blowing onto the entrances to the Abacos making entry hazardous. With current wind, we could head down to Warderick Wells, on Exumas, and have an easy run up to Nassau at the end of the week. A phone call to the Park office gave the information that we would ‘probably’ get a mooring so we picked up and headed off. There were still showers and gusts and sails were up-and-down and in-and-out all day as we sailed back past the cape and down. If there was no mooring available, we would have an extra hour or so to motor round to an anchorage so I wanted to arrive by 17:30. This meant an occasional motor-assist to ensure an average speed of 6 knots. Only in mid afternoon, did we recall that Albi had a working satellite phone with him and we were able to confirm our mooring and relax. We dropped sails just offshore and motored into the mooring field, to pick up the last available buoy.

Warderick Wells was just as wonderful as we remembered. Unfortunately, the weather wasn’t. On Tuesday, we managed to walk a small loop, taking in Booboo Hill and finding our driftwood maker from 2 years earlier. While we contemplated whether to re-furbish it, a shower blew through and we took shelter. In the afternoon we took the dinghy, initially to Elsie’s favourite butterfly beach. Albi, Di and I then went out to Emerald Rock to snorkel round that and a nearby head. Very nice. On returnig to the mothership Di discovered the source of a smell in her cabin that she had been dicretely keeping quiet about: the previous week she had picked up an empty conch shell from a beach.  She now discovered that it had, in fact been inhabited by a hermit crab, now sadly deceased.  Crab and shell were returned to the ocean.

Hermit crab RIP

And so ended April.

Monthly Stats:

Across ground 338
Log                  329

March 2019

In which we finish our cruise along the Leeward Islands and head for the Bahamas.

We started March in Rendezvous Bay, St Johns. We had intended to sail across to St Croix on the Friday but, with the stresses of the previous day, decided we needed a rest and just relaxed and swam. There was none of the wildlife that we had seen previously – conch, rays, barracuda, remora. Whether this was just chance or a permanent change we don’t know. On Saturday, we had an earlyish start and had a great reach down to Christiansted on St Croix. The entrance to the harbour is convoluted but we worked our way in to an area, protected by hidden reefs, that gave us easy access to the town. We wanted to visit Buck Island, which is a National park and theoretically requires prior permission so we had a hasty lunch and took the dinghy to a nice public dock and scurried to the fort, which acts as the park control. Here we were informed that, after the hurricanes of 2017, things were still not back to normal and that no permit was required. We continued for a walk past the inner harbour and a look at the shops. On Sunday, we went ashore again for a walk round the old part of the town then motored the 4 miles into wind to the designated anchorage at Buck Island. The downside of no permission being required was apparent, with many motor boats taking up the best spots but we found a comfortable enough berth. There is a renowned reef inside a long lagoon with moorings for small craft. Our charts suggested that Ruby would not be able to navigate in the lagoon so we waited until 1600, when we thought that the rush would be over, and took the dinghy. Any rush there might have been was definitely over and we had the reef to ourselves. The reef was OK but had lost some of its glory with the hurricanes. It was Elsie’s first time swimming with only the dinghy and she was, understandably, a little nervous but managed to board with little fuss. Had our windlass not been playing up, we would have moved Ruby further in for the night, but decided to stay put. Monday morning, we rowed ashore and, briefly, had the island to ourselves before the stream of day trippers arrived. We managed to find an entrance to the trails and had a pleasant, though strenuous, walk across the island.

government House, Christiansted.

There is a long fringing reef protecting the eastern end of the north side of St Croix, with what looks like a sheltered bay, with a yacht club near the tip. This seemed like a good opportunity to explore so we picked up and headed across. Unfortunately, the swell somehow managed to work its way in and, after a rolly lunch, we back-tracked a mile or so to the west and found a more comfortable spot for the night. We were not sure about beach access here, and believed that there was a reasonable bus service so, rather than pushing our luck, we picked up in the morning and headed out to sail round the island. Once outside the reef, we had a five mile beat to the tip and then a fantastic broad reach westwards, beam reaching the final few miles to anchor just north of Fredricksted pier. We were a little surprised to find about 8 yachts already (including Baloo, which we hadn’t seen for 18 months) already there, but there was plenty of room. The windlass made even more noise than usual and, when we tried to heave in, it failed altogether confirming our decision that a new one was needed. I was pretty confident that we could heave up manually but it would be a slow process and it was good that we were in an uncrowded anchorage. On Wednesday morning, we dinghied in with the intention of just having a walk round the town but were hailed by a fellow cruiser who had the luxury of a borrowed car. He was off shopping at a big supermarket and could offer a lift. It was too good an opportunity to miss so we accepted and stocked up on provisions. Back on board, I took the windlass apart, not with any hope of fixing it but just to make sure that I wouldn’t have any hold-ups when it came to replacing it. Having not moved since Ruby was built, it was a little stuck but a little gentle persuasion got it moving.

Sampling mollases at the distillery.

Elsie had found some walks on the island and on Thursday we tried to get to the North West tip. Further investigation had shown that buses only ran between the two main towns, so we tried hitching. This was only partially successful and we had to walk most of the way and we missed the route to the official walk. As Elsie managed to trip over an obstruction and badly grazed her knee, we decided to call it a day in case we had to walk the whole way back and returned. We did manage to hitch most of the way but we had had sufficient exercise. On Friday, we decided to do the tour of the local distillery, Cruzan, which is located within a mile of the centreline bus route. We got to the bus stop well before 10 and checked with a couple of locals that we were in the right place – yes, and the 09:30 bus should be along soon. At 10:00 one of them phoned the bus company – yes bus was on it’s way but running a few minutes late. At 10:20, we gave up and took a ‘taxi bus’, $2.50 instead of $1.00, only to see the service bus arrive. The tour was a little disappointing, showing us fermentation vats and ageing storage but not the stills or bottling (which is actually done in the States) and lasting only 20 minutes. The tasting afterwards was, however, was well worth it with a couple of shots of flavoured, low proof, rum and a couple of cocktails. If we were not already full to the gunwales with rum, I suspect that we might have come away with a few more bottles. We did manage to break away with only a couple of T shirts and weaved our way back to the highway. Only a 10 minute wait for a ‘taxi bus’ this time and back on board for a late lunch and a much needed afternoon nap. We were anchored just north of the Fredricksted pier, which was reputed to have good snorkelling so, on Saturday morning, we took the dinghy across and swum along it. Plenty of fish, a couple of turtles, but none of the sea horses that were supposed to be there. The afternoon was spent mostly lazing. On Sunday, we were more energetic and walked the 3 miles down to the south western tip of the island. The first mile was on roads but they ran out and we continued along a beach, which is seasonally closed in the summer as it is a prime breeding spot for turtles. This was heavier going as it was soft sand so we were a little surprised to see an occupied beach umbrella at the far end. As we approached, these multiplied and we discovered car loads of families, who knew that there was road access from the other side.

Me on the beach, for a change.

Turtle sanctuary.

Back to Ruby for lunch then, no rest for the wicked, it was time to play with anchors. With the windlass out of action, we were going to have to lay and pick up anchor by hand. Our main anchor weighs about 20 Kg and 10 metres of chain a similar amount. This is quite enough to handle manually and, with a wind blowing and putting horizontal load on would be unmanageable. Fortunately we had light winds and were expecting similar for the next few days but we needed to be sure that we could anchor and pick up easily. I assembled our lightweight Fortress anchor and attached it to our kedging rode, which has about 12 metres of smaller gauge chain and a similar length of rope. We then rigged up a long rope from the bow to a cockpit winch and transferred our snubber to the starboard bow cleat with just a foot of rope between that and the chain hook. The system was: Elsie attached the long rope to the chain with a rolling hitch then indicated which way the cable was leading; I gave a kick with the engine and, as the weight came off, winched 5 metres up. Elsie hooked on with the snubber; I slacked back while she stowed the chain in the locker; repeat. It all went much more smoothly than expected, the only snag being that once the anchor broke ground we started to drift. To be properly safe in a crowded anchorage, we would have needed a third person: one to winch, one on the bow and one to manoeuvre Ruby. Fortunately we had plenty of space, but it confirmed our decision to use the lighter anchor. We drifted for a while as I removed our main anchor from its cable (this needed to be done as the chain threads through the windlass), stowed all safely, assembled the new anchor and cable on the foredeck then manoeuvred to a clear area for practice. Once in position, I stopped and dashed to the bow and lowered the Fortress, with Elsie ready to manoeuvre as required. In only 5 metres of water and light winds, we just put out 20 metres or so and gave a tug to bed it in – perfect. Picking it up on Monday morning we found, as hoped, that I could haul in by hand at the cockpit winch, bringing in 10 metres of rope at a time with Elsie using a long and a short rope and rolling hitches at the bow. This made it a lot quicker and easier.

Anchor up, we headed north to Charlotte Amalie on St Thomas. Arriving at 14:00. We found a nice big space, anchored and went ashore for a walk and a little shopping. Once back on board we got the news that our new windlass was in Puerto Rico so it was time to head west. It was only 40 miles downwind to Fajardo. We hoped to do this on a broad reach but, with the wind not quite as forecast and the island of Culebra in the way, the first 25 miles were done on a dead run under cruising chute and main. Once past Culebra, the wind backed just enough for a broad reach to take us to Isleta Marina which provided a nice quiet anchorage for the night. There were still a few uncharted wrecks around from the 2017 hurricanes so it is definitely a daylight navigation area. We needed to clear in and thought that we were going to have to dinghy in and walk a mile to the customs office but a phone call on Wednesday morning revealed that there was now an office at Sunray marina and that we could take Ruby to the fuel dock while we did the necessary. This proved a blessing as it was a hot, still, day and just walking the length of the marina had us melting. Paperwork done, we headed back out and down the 4 miles to Puerto del Rey. We parked, booked in for 2 days and went to find our new windlass. I had been quoted $3000 in parts and materials, by a shipyard in the States to install it but, with only a modicum of sweat and hardly any bad language, I had the job done and cleaned up within 3 hours. A quick test showed that the electrical terminals were wrongly labelled but that was soon sorted. Elsie had meanwhile done the laundry and booked a hair appointment for the following morning so all was going well.

We had been watching the weather for the passage to the Bahamas for weeks. No problem – the trade winds were working well and you could pick any time, any day and get a nice F3-4 to give a comfortable broad reach. Until now. There were a succession of cold fronts emerging from Florida giving cyclonic winds, then calms, as far as the forecast could see. It looked as though we might be retrieving part of our original plan and spending a week or so in Puerto Rico but we then spotted a window for leaving on Friday. Not a great window, but we would be getting a reasonable wind for most of the way and a slow drift for the remainder.

Stores!

Food and other consumer goods being so expensive in the Bahamas, we wanted to do a good provisioning here. I thought of hiring a car but, as everything was fairly local, decided to just use Uber instead. Elsie’s hair was at 10:30 on Thursday, so I rolled along at 11:15 to collect her. The hairdresser was doing a lovely job but after the cut spent a further 30 minutes drying and straightening it. This meant that we arrived at the gas depot, where we needed to refill our cylinder, just in time to see the operator disappear for his lunch. With no car, we had no option but to wait an hour before getting our next cab, doping a mega shop, a third cab back, golf buggy back to our dock and stow all away. Another check on the weather and prepare for departure. We were going downwind, so had preventers rigged on each side and I fitted the inner forestay in case the forecast was wrong and we needed to beat into wind.

We let go at 08:50 on the 15^th and found a light easterly so full sails up for a reach to Cockroach Passage then a broad reach on track under main and cruising chute, changing to genoa as the wind built to a F4. By nightfall, it was gusting to F5, so we put a reef in the main but we were making 7 knots, better than predicted, on track. Some gusts in the small hours had Elsie wake me to put in the second reef and the Genoa was going in and out with wind changes. With our new furling gear, this is now so simple. At mid-day, the wind started to drop and, in late afternoon, we had to motor sail for a couple of hours as the sails were flogging with the swell. We managed to sail through the night, though at much lower speed than the first night, then had to motor again for a couple of hours on Sunday morning. Knowing that boats heading east on ‘The Thorny Path’ shelter in the afternoons to avoid easterly winds, we decided to close the coast and gybed round. This proved to be a good move and by mid afternoon we gain had a F4-5 and made excellent progress along the coast. A bonus was that we could get a phone signal so were able to update our weather forecast (and listen to some radio). This, unfortunately, confirmed that we were likely to run out of wind the following day. At 14:00 on Monday, we started the engine and used it all the rest of the way at an economical 1800 revs, 5 knots, as we were certain of a night-time arrival anyway. We did arrive at mid-night and dropped anchor opposite Matthew Town. As soon as we stopped our engine, we noticed the generators running on shore but, with a beer and some ear plugs had a good sleep anyway.

On our previous visit, a year ago, we had been the only visitors and even had locals coming to see us as a novelty. Word had obviously spread as, on rising, we could see 5 masts inside and there were a further 4 yachts at anchor. While we were debating whether to go in and have a look anyway, 3 catamarans emerged so we quickly picked up, proceeded in and found a nice empty dock and someone ready to take our lines. The docks are American style wooden pilings, high and with only one ladder per 80 ft finger, so it took a bit of fiddling to get us properly moored, fendered and with adequate access but it was nice to be back. Breakfast done, it was time to clear in. Customs have an office ½ mile north of the port but, in the heat, it was nice that locals stopped and gave us lifts both ways. The officials here are very friendly and we were soon done with them so our next stop was Bahamas Telecom to get a local sim card. I have a great deal with Vodafone, which allows me to roam almost anywhere except the Bahamas (an accidental turning on of data the previous evening had racked up a bill of £12 in 20 seconds). BTC does a data only sim which gives 15 Gb for $30 so is affordable, but their office was closed and seemed to be so for the duration. Back to Ruby. With the heat building and no wind we dug out the silvered tarpaulin, last used in Greece 2 ½ years earlier and rigged an awning. It was then a trudge into town to the new telecoms provider, Aliv, to try their service. Their system was down so no joy and I stopped off at the library to check mail, etc.

We had timed our arrival well as the mail boat was in and we could see fresh provisions being loaded onto the supermarket truck. After lunch, we walked back to the town and had a good shop, before returning and doing not very much in the heat. Wednesday was, likewise, a not very much day. We did manage to get an a bit more food and an Aliv sim but otherwise just socialised with John and Julie from Myla and Blondie from Alabama, a beautiful 1980s American yacht, spending the evening aboard the latter, together with the dock master, George. Somewhere along the way, we decided to head off to Hogsty Reef the following morning, but failed to plan properly. We should have left at first light but instead waited for George to arrive, so that we could top up on water. This meant that we didn’t leave until 10:00. With 45 miles to go and light winds, it was clear that we wouldn’t arrive until after dark so had to ‘motor assist’ most of the way. Indecision again got the better of us here. Hogsty reef is an almost completely submerged atoll, reputed to have some of the best snorkelling and diving in the Bahamas, but is only tenable in calm conditions. We were tucked into the North West corner, near the only entrance and it was pretty lumpy overnight. On the chart, it looked as though there might be a better spot in the North East corner but that was 3 miles away over unknown shallow water. If it didn’t work, that would probably be 2 hours, there and back. By the time we had decided to go it was 09:00 and, with a light northerly, it was soon apparent that we needed to motor again to arrive at our next stop, Castle rock, at the bottom of Aklins, in daylight. I lost count of the number of times we looked at each other that day and said ‘this isn’t us, is it’. On arrival, we found that ‘Myla’ and ‘Bow Tied’, who had both been at Hogsty, were already there and we were given a lift over to the latter for sun-downers and some great seafood.

George, the harbourmaster at Mathews Town.

Again, we debated whether to stay or go but, this time, managed to be away by 07:30 the next morning to sail up to Landrail Point on Crooked Island. It was going to be close hauled all the way, so we hoisted the staysail and, with reefed main and genoa, headed off. Today, the wind was just backed 10 – 20 degrees from forecast and it was hard going. It took us over 10 hours to achieve the 45 miles, though we did manage to make it all the way without motoring. The plan had been to continue up to Rum Cay the following day but, when Elsie suggested that we take a break and wait for the next weather system, I didn’t take much persuading.  We used the time for maintenance. Having done so much motoring over the past week, it was time for an oil change on the main engine. There was an initial panic when I forgot where I had stowed the spare oil, but it otherwise went smoothly. Other little jobs took care of Sunday, which was wet and blustery, so we wouldn’t have enjoyed the sail anyway. Both Myla and Bow Tied elected to go the 40 miles to Clarence Town on Long Island and both managed to have emergencies on arrival: one with jammed steering and one with engine failure. We were glad not to make it a third. Monday was a nicer day and we ventured ashore, taking the dinghy into the little harbour carved out of sold rock.

Landrail point is a typical ‘Family Island’ community. A scattering of houses, a general store, a BTC store, a clinic, a restaurant, and plenty of evidence of hurricanes past. We wandered around, bought a BTC sim, looked in the store for bread, to be told to ask at the clinic for Lisa, who sometimes bakes, found Lisa, who looked puzzled, offered bread by Marsha, who owns the restaurant and would be baking that afternoon and agreed to return the next day. On Tuesday, we did return and received 2 beautiful wholemeal loaves and bought a few things from the store. Back to Ruby to play with sails.

On arrival here, I had been disturbed to find a large bolt on the foredeck. After not very much investigation, I discovered that it was one of two holding the base our new furler to the forestay. I then discovered that the 4 set screws joining the head foil to the furler were also loose. More checking was called for and, although it was a bit rolly, that meant going up the mast. While at it, I decided to some other, delayed jobs. The upper diagonal stays had never been tightened since new ones fitted in Rhu and the down wind one sagged when sailing, so I gave them a turn; one of the shackles for the top of the lazy jacks was rusty, so got replaced with a stainless steel one and the genoa was sitting lower on the new furling arrangement, so I wanted to see how much headroom I had to raise it. If I was disturbed to find the bolt at the bottom, I was appalled to find that the split pin securing the plain bolt holing the top of the forestay to the mast was not opened and pointing upwards, the whole arrangement being held in place by friction. I then rode the forestay, being hauled up again by Elsie, and found that of the screws joining the sections of head foil together, several were loose and two missing altogether. Obviously, I should have checked all this back in Oriental but, as I had paid $672 for the Furling gear to be installed and a further $532 for the mast to be stepped, I feel I had the right to assume the job had been done properly.

Jobs done, we did a quick weather check and found that the following day was forecast to be calm and Thursday to have a north westerly wind. Instant decision to move. We sailed, under cruising chute and genoa, firstly goose-winged, then broad reaching, down to the bottom of Fortune Island then motored a mile or so up to anchor off a beautiful beach for the night. Wednesday brought, not calm but a moderate north easterly, so we upped and motored back round the corner and, from here, dinghied back to the beach for a nice long walk. My afternoon was spent scrubbing the bottom in crystal clear water. That evening, we were treated to a spectacular lightening display from storms well to the north of us. It was not such a treat to be woken at 03:00 by the storms coming south and hitting us. No lightening this time but torrential rain and strong winds onto the shore. I was very pleased to have ‘dived the anchor’ on arrival and found it to be well buried. At first light, we moved back to our previous spot and had a quiet day. The plan was, on Friday we would sail, into wind, back to Landrail and then, On Saturday to Rum Cay. Up at 7, and decided that this sounded like too much effort then, as the wind built and we became increasingly uncomfortable, reverted to plan. By the time we were ready, it was 10:30 so we were a couple of hours behind schedule. Away we went, anyway, and had a ‘bracing’ sail up the coast with 1 reef in the main, inner jib and variable genoa, directly into a F4. Judicious tacking brought us into the lee of Crooked Island for the last 8 miles. The flat water not only made it a lot more comfortable but increased our speed by 50%, allowing us to anchor by 17:00. Unfortunately, the swell crept round what we had hoped would be a sheltering reef, leading to an uncomfortable night. We rose to light winds and headed off in light winds, hoping that the forecast of a building ENE’ly were correct. After 90 minutes of slow motoring, with just the main hoisted for stability, the wind obliged. With a F3 on the beam, we hoisted the jib and put out full genoa. 2 hours later we had one reef in both ‘plain’ sails, then down with the jib, followed by further reefing as the wind built to a F5. With 2 reefs in the main and genoa we we still made 8 knots and would have thoroughly enjoyed it if it were not for the large area of rain that blew in. The rain stopped before we arrived at Rum Cay and we motored into the bay, to find ourselves alone, anchoring in 3 metres at 17:35 for a very welcome cup of tea and a hot shower.

We slept well, to make up for the restless night before and had a relaxing day. Ashore, we were a little sad to find that there seemed to be no progress on the marina and little on the government dock. We did, however manage to stock up on provisions at Kay’s, so had enough fresh food to take us on our next leg. Back to Ruby and more relaxing with occasional little maintenance jobs: Elsie mending cushion covers and me continuing with bottom cleaning. Elsie also baked some more oatmeal biscuits, using our Bajan syrup for extra flavour. A couple of other yachts arrived late in the day, but chose to anchor well away from us, which didn’t upset us at all.

 Monthly stats:

Log                 787
Over ground   886

(Log under reading this month - don't know why)

February 2019

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.

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.

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.

Ruby at Benures bay

On Saturday, 16^th, 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 21^st 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 24^th, 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.

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, 26^th, 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.

Our 'sundowners' cabana

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

January 2019

In which we wander round some of the Leeward Islands we passed by in haste in 2017.

We started the New Year in Falmouth Harbour, Antigua. Having completed the essential maintenance tasks, though with cooling pump on board rather than fitted, it was time to move on. We had been in close company with many other yachts for too long and craved a little isolation. So ashore to check out and buy bread then up anchor and sail back along the south coast to Johnson Point to anchor for the evening. On the second, we were up early and were under way at 0810 for the 45 mile sail to Deshais on Guadeloupe. The wind was a little stronger than forecast, at 20 knots but, with 2 reef in and the wind just ahead of the beam we had a fine sail across, albeit with occasional showers, dropping anchor 6 hours later, in time to dinghy ashore and use the self service check in located in a tourist shop. Guadeloupe has 2 main islands: The one with the mountains, where we were, is call Basse Terre, or Low Island; Grande Terre, which is flat, is the smaller of the two. Deshais is a touristy town with plenty of cafes and boutiques but not well served for provisions. We decided to do a little inland exploration and on Thursday, 3^rd, we hired a car for 48 hours, taking a small circular route that afternoon through the mountains. On Friday, we did a full day, driving across to Basse Terre and following its coast round. Our first stop, at Anse Babin, had a muddy beach ands many people smearing themselves in the mud, no doubt considering it to be theraputic.

From there up to Anse Bertrand, a pleasant enough tourist resort, then on to the northerly Pointe de la Grande Vigie to peer out into the Atlantic. Down the East coast to Pointe de Chateaux, the last few miles along a small road lined with ‘Galeries Artisanal’ with more or less revolting local art and craft works. There was a stop at the end with more craft stalls and a view out to La Desirade, the easternmost island of the archipelago.

Pointe de Chateaux

We managed to view this in a break to the increasingly frequent showers then headed back along the south coast with a deliberate stop in Saint-Francois and unintentional ones in traffic at Sainte-Anne and Le Gosier. Back across the bridge to La Basse Terre and a stop at a supermarket to stock up. This was a disappointment as there was no fresh meat so it turned into a minor shop instead. On Saturday, we returned; Elsie dropping off to do laundry while I continued on to Sainte-Rose to find another supermarket and get enough food for a week. We had the car until 1400 but had run out of enthusiasm so dropped it off, returned to Ruby, picked up the anchor and sailed, close-hauled, down to Riviere Sens near the southern tip. This is where we had topped up on duty-free fuel 2 years before so, in the morning, we motored into the marina only to find that regulations had changed and we would have to pay the taxable rate. We had also banked on topping up on water but found that we had to move to a (stern-to) marina berth to get this and pay 15 Euros for the privilege. An exchange of camping gaz cylinder cost 30 Euros, [Edit.  I don't know what gas was inside, but it didn't burn properly, sooted up the cooker and gave us headaches. The remains of the bottle were vented on a windy day]  But at least we got good, cheap, bread for lunch. We then had a 10 mile beat with 2 reefs across to Iles des Saintes into a F4-5. We picked up a mooring buoy at Ilet a Cabrit, as anchoring is prohibited. The buoy had a large steel ring on top, which made it easy to pick up but, with fluky winds and currents, knocked against us marking not only the hull but also out new SS bow protector. Ashore in the morning for a walk round the, deserted, island then a short motor across to Anse de Bourge, the only town on this group of islands. This is, again, very touristy with frequent ferries across from the mainland. We made a quick trip ashore for the essential lunch time bread and a longer one in the afternoon for a walk across to the Atlantic beach and a full exploration of the town. Although the mooring buoy was similar design to the previous day’s one, this time there was a steady wind keeping us off it so obviating any further damage.

Our ‘new’ genoa is now 4 years old and has sailed over 20,000 miles. I suppose we shouldn’t be too disappointed that it has stretched a little and does not allow us to point so close to wind as when new. The next 2 legs were going to be into wind, so I rigged the inner forestay so we could experiment with the blade jib that I bought second hand over 3 years ago and we have hardly used. A final trip ashore on Tuesday morning, for bread, then let go at 0830 to sail up to Marie-Galante. Only 16 miles in a straight line but, into wind and dodging (some) showers we had nearly 30 miles on the clock when we dropped anchor at 1350. It took us a while to get the sheeting for our 2 headsails sorted out but, once we did, there was a definite improvement in both angle and speed to windward. Ashore after lunch to explore Saint-Louis, the big town of the island. This was very tatty and didn’t inspire us to linger so the following morning, after an even earlier bread run, we picked up at 0800 and headed up to Iles de la Petit Terre. These are a pair of tiny low islands that are Guadeloupe’s answer to Tobago Cays. The sail across was ‘interesting’ with frequent squalls, causing us to heave-to a couple of times and have the genoa in and out like a fiddler’s elbow but we managed better at tacking to the wind shifts and, for a direct distance of 18 miles, managed to only do 26 across the ground and arrived at 1315, taking one of the obligatory buoys.

Ruby at Isles de Petit Terre

As well as a few yachts on these, there were a multitude of day trip boats, filling the only beach with tourists so we waited for them to leave at 1600 before going ashore and exploring. A quiet night, an early rise and ashore at 0730 to again have the island to ourselves before the first day trip boat arrived at 0830.  A lazy middle of the day then ashore again for a longer explore before returning for sun-downers, joined by Andy and Lisa, fellow OCC members from yacht Kinetic.

King of the Castle

On Friday we decided to complete the circumnavigation of Guadeloupe so, with an early start, we headed north with full sail in a light easterly. Once again, there were passing showers and much reefing and un-reefing of the genoa. Our first check point was to pass between Pointe de Chateaux, where we had been a week before and Desirata. Towards the top of the island, a larger shower came through. We had the genoa well reefed but still full main up and it was an interesting few minutes of hand steering with the wind gusting up to 27 knots on a broad reach. I found it exhilarating; Elsie possibly not so much. What did disappoint was my ‘new’ Helly Hansen jacket. I had bought this 18 months earlier in Newport, Rhode Island but only worn it 3-4 times. I now found that it was leaking badly and the lining was coming away in shreds. Change of brand required. Once round the top of Grand Terre, the wind died and we motored the 7 miles down to anchor off Port Louis. As we settled in for the night, there was loud drumming from the town and fire-crackers going off. We later found out that this was part of the carnival which seems to stretch from Christmas to Mardi Gras.

Supper

Ashore in the morning, leaving Rubette in the fishing port. A pleasant little town, with a street market on. We managed to find a butcher, for some nice pork steaks; a stall selling bakery goods including a lovely pate en-croute and a fish monger butchering a fresh tuna. We bought from all 3 and stocked up on vegetables from a green grocer and, of course, bought fresh bread and pain chocolates from the boulangerie. We then had a pleasant broad reach across Grande cul-de-sac Marin to Basse-Terre and our starting point, Deshais, where we checked out and prepared for our crossing to Saint Kitts.

The direct distance is about 80 miles, which is too much for a daytime trip so we did it in two. On Sunday, with an ENE’ly F4 we had a close reach back across to Johnsons Point, which had been our departure point from Antigua 10 days earlier. A quiet night, then an early start as we wanted a daylight arrival and check-in. The wind was E’ly F2-3 so we started broad reaching with full main and cruising chute, giving us 4, then 5, 6, 7 knots as the wind built. By 10:00 it was up to F4 and still increasing, so we put it away and used full genoa instead. We were aiming for the gap between Nevis and St Kitts but the wind didn’t have enough north in it to allow us to make this on a reach. Rather than slow down on a run, we accepted a slightly longer track to route north of Booby Island. This worked well and, with just a short wing-on-wing run, we were able to gybe round to slip between the islands then back to sail on a beam reach up to the capital, Basseterre, anchoring off Port Zante at 1545. This allowed me to nip ashore in the dinghy, check-in and get a few goodies. A slightly rolly night at anchor, then discovered the following morning that we could come in for US$20 a night so did that. This allowed us to wander around the town at leisure and plan on a big touristy day for Wednesday.

Lime kiln or 18th Century space rocket?

There is a well preserved 18^th century fort on top of a volcanic outcrop on the western side of St Kitts. One can pay for a taxi from town to the top but instead we had an early start, taking a local bus to the foot of the hill and walking up. Our timing was perfect and we got to the gate as it opened at 09:30 to get the whole site to ourselves for an hour or so before the cruise ship hoards arrived. A full tour, walk down the hill again past troops of Green Vervet monkeys, and we decided to stop off for more tourism on the way back. Again, a bus, then walk up a hill to Romney Manor where there is a batik printing workshop. There is a ‘tour’ which consists of of a bored

Brimstone hill

woman reciting her spiel for the 27^th time today while painting a little wax on a piece of cotton before pointing you in the direction of the shop. I must confess that some of the product is gorgeous but it is the first time I have been charged $3 to enter a shop. Bus back to town and, while Elsie did a little food shopping, I had a much needed hair cut.

Batik

A lazier start on Thursday then out and motored the 5 miles across to Whitehouse Bay to anchor and spend the afternoon sun bathing. On Friday, we dinghied into the, very posh, Christophe Marina. The average size of the yachts here is in excess of 200 ft but they still met us with such charm that we spent $28 on some fresh Italian and balsamic vinegar, which was kept in the shop for us while we went for a walk. The marina is the first stage of a development and, as is our wont, we strolled around and picked the plot we would buy as soon as the lottery paid up. As we untied our scruffy dinghy, I noticed the fuel price and a bit of mental arithmetic showed me that it was the cheapest we had seen for months so resolved to top up the following day. Back on board, we pigged out out on fresh bread then, after a pause to let it settle, a dinghy into the shallows for a little snorkelling. On Saturday, we swapped islands, stopping off for fuel n the way. As it was only 6 miles across to Charleston, the capital of Nevis, we didn’t bother with the main and just reached across under the genoa. Not terribly efficient but, in the flat waters with 12-15 knots on the beam we did the trip in an hour, taking one of the obligatory buoys on arrival. We dinghied down to the town and managed, after a struggle, to land on a derelict pier. Wandered around the town for a bit then, on our way to find hot springs, noticed that a cricket match was being set up. Dangle of feet in the springs then back, beers in hand, to watch a seniors match between Nevis & St Kitts. The cricket might not have been of the highest standard but was enlivened by the commentary: "The crowd is building, we expecting a capacity of 26,000" (there were about 100 of us on rickety bleachers); "They are going wild" (our polite British applause at a six or a clean bowled or groan at a dropped catch were the loudest reactions). Also entertaining were the breaks when, after almost every 6, someone had to scramble over a wall to retrieve the ball or ask a passing pedestrian to fish it out of the main road.

On Sunday, we took the dinghy to the beach and walked up the hill opposite and through the forest to an abandoned sugar estate and beyond to work up an appetite for the last of our Italian bread. Monday was, basically, a lazy day with just a little trip ashore for bread and to check out.

We had an early start on Tuesday, 22^nd, letting go our buoy at first light, 06:30 and motor-sailing the first few miles back past Booby Island to the windward side of St Kitts. Here we were delighted to find that the wind was due East, just a little further round than forecast and giving us 15 knots from just behind the beam. With full genoa and a single reef in the main we flew along and were at anchor off Gustavia, the Capital of St Barts before 14:00. Leisurely lunch and dinghy ashore to check in and explore the town. Voyaging round the Caribbean we encounter the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’. These latters are often elderly, poorly dressed and have been left behind by the consumer society. While some may beg, they mostly seem content with their lot. In Gustavia, we realised that we were the have nots. The harbour was filled with yachts, but they were almost exclusively of the motor sort and averaged about 150 ft long. The bigger ones, including Abramovic’s Eclipse (435 ft) were anchored outside. While there were some of the usual Diamond ‘n Emerald shops for the tourists, there were also some seriously high class boutiques and our brief foray into the liquor store revealed that wines at less than 50 Euros per bottle were not to be considered. Even the Thai takeaway had dishes priced at 30 Euros plus. But looking at the lovely ladies in their designer floaty dresses and their bronzed men sitting at the cocktail bars, we couldn’t help wondering if they were actually having more fun than us. The local supermarket provided baguettes for a Euro, good rum for 12 together with fresh meat, fruit and vegetables at European prices, so we just enjoyed our stroll, stocked up the fridge and retired to Ruby to watch the sun go down.

On Wednesday, we headed up to a little bay, Anse de Columbier. On the chart, it doesn’t look to give particularly good protection from the prevailing swell but reports were good and proved to be accurate. Buoys are provided and we picked one up. Unfortunately, there is a very short eye on the top to pass ones mooring ropes through. Elsie was struggling so I went to assist and ended up dangling over the side, getting my shorts wet. Not a problem in this climate until I realised that my phone was in the pocket. End of phone. Fortunately the SIM survived and we put that in Elsie’s phone to tide us over. We spent 3 nights here, mostly just relaxing with a daily trip ashore for a walk or beach swim and back for some little maintenance jobs including our bi-annual clear out of waste pipes, for once doing it not under pressure. Time for another Island change, so on the 26^th, we went back to Gustavia, taking a mooring buoy this time as they are included in the ‘facility fee’ and got us closer in. We booked out the following morning and headed downwind to Sint Maarten, Dutch side of the smallest territory in the world to be split into 2 nations. We anchored overnight at Phillipsburg in a large bay (OK but lacking in charm) and then continued the next morning round to Simpson’s Bay, the major yachting centre.

Initially we anchored outside, as there is a lifting bridge and limited space to anchor inside. In by dinghy to check in and check out maintenance facilities as we had a few jobs to do. We managed to locate someone to repair our dinghy (a tear in the bottom, first repaired in Lisbon, was leaking); put a doubler on our lovely new bimini cover that we had contrived to chafe a hole through and free up our inner forestay adjuster. This had seized, having not needed any adjustment for 3 years but now requiring it as our new furling gear had added an inch to the primary forestay. On dropping this off, at the opposite end of the lagoon to the chandleries, etc. I saw that there was, in fact, space in the anchorage for 2 – 3 yachts and, with a 5 PM bridge opening coming up, we hoisted the dinghy on board and heaved up anchor only to find ourselves the 4^th in line to enter. Being British, we joined the back of the queue but, once inside, we came over all continental for a few minutes, took a short cut and dropped our hook in the prime space available. The others also slotted in easily, so we didn’t feel too bad. Tuesday was a busy day, dropping off bimini cover and dinghy early (getting a ‘courtesy dinghy’ for the latter). We then caught a bus back over the hill almost back to Phillipsburg to see if my phone could be mended (no), buy a new, second-hand one and scout the supermarkets. On Wednesday it time to set up my new phone. Fortunately, I was mostly up-to-date with back-ups, so most of the aps, photos, etc. were there. The only thing it wouldn’t do was act as a phone: it wouldn’t make or receive calls or texts. The vendor had told us of problems with the Dutch side system so we dinghied to France and tried there. Eventually, with me one side of the buildings and Elsie on the other, using different networks, we managed to assure ourselves that it was working and, only pausing to buy some proper French bread, we returned to Ruby. Next was laundry. The owner of the laundrette assured us that it was cheaper if we let her do it (though, at $28, I dread to think how much self-service would have cost), so we left it with her. While there, we were told that the dinghy was ready. Oh dear! A not very convincing repair but worse, they had managed to damage the joints between transom and hull tubes. Of course, they denied responsibility but we are now in the position of being in the one place in the Caribbean where we can get a replacement and not knowing if we need it. A few more errands, including dropping off cooking gas cylinders and collecting the forestay adjuster. Thursday, an early bus to Phillipsburg, to walk round Fort Amsterdam, built in turn by the Dutch, French, British and Dutch again but now isolated inside a gated resort, which I suspect we shouldn’t have walked through. A trek back up the hill to a discount supermarket for some stores shopping and back in time for a quick dinghy trip to collect laundry and gas bottles, a late lunch and then caught a bus in the other direction to the beach at the end of the runway. Here, the threshold is very close to the perimeter meaning that that those on the beach feel that they can almost touch the wheels of incoming jets and really can get the full benefit of the jet blast from those departing. A good spectator sport if you judge your position nicely to avoid the eflux but watch idiots getting sand blasted, bowled over, lose their hats etc. 

Warning sign

Warned

Monthly stats:
Log                433
Over ground  361