Saturday, June 29, 2019

As others see us...


Two Albertans in search of their sea legs…

Today is June 28.  Nearly two months ago, we had the experience of a lifetime aboard Ruby Tuesday in the Bahamas.  The fact that this blog is being written so long afterward is a testimony to the messy busyness of our daily lives.  We have had many moments of reflection in the past two months on the purpose of this endless striving.  While we are landlocked in Calgary (home to cows, Christians, and country music), we are fervent outdoor people and the Rocky Mountains are on our doorstep.  We take full advantage of fabulous hiking, skiing, and climbing when we can tear ourselves away from work.  However, nearly every summer since our children were in diapers, we escaped to the west coast and took to our kayaks.  The ocean feels truly liberating, with life simplified to what you can carry and time marked by sunrise, sunset, wind and weather..…with the opportunity to untether from the quotidian shackles and blow the dust of everyday life off the soul (to paraphrase Picasso).  I had an inkling that sailing would be a natural extension of this experience, on a larger canvas.   I was correct.

Elsie and Lionel have much to teach us of the fine art of living well and we are lucky to have joined them, on their journey, albeit briefly.  In a fit of enthusiasm, I took a week long sailing course more than a decade ago but, much to my disappointment, the other participants were more interested in getting to the nearest port and bar as early in the day as possible.  Elsie and Lionel are real sailors, as I knew they would be.  We observed a purposeful efficiency to the daily routines aboard dear Ruby and a comfortable sharing of duties and negotiated decision-making – shake out one reef or two?  genoa or no genoa? anchor here one day or two?  As newbies, we tried to stay out of the way as much as possible.  I think Lionel may have wished to cast us overboard only once or twice.  I could be mistaken.  The first day was an inauspicious start.  With unfavourable winds we motored to our first anchorage and Ruby pitched and rolled, humbling the landlubbers into spending that day flat on deck, gripping the lee rail with grim determination, retching our innards out.  Elsie looked concerned.  Lionel’s expression was more judgemental.  However!  In spite of a rough first night in the aft cabin, rolling and bumping into each other like two running shoes in a washing machine, we recovered for day 2 and the rest of the trip.  Albert, in spite of his inherent resistance to flaky, new-agey therapies, concluded that the wrist bands do work perfectly, as long as they are put on before the boat is moving, not after one is afflicted.  Once recovered, and interested in learning to work the boat, we watched and clumsily tried to assist.  It did take me (engineer and mathematician) two days to work out the function of the topping lift.   Lionel, ever patient:  “take in the main sheet please….no, the other side…No, the Other line….yes, clockwise around the winch.  I’m sure we learned something, even if we are not yet capable of commandeering a toy sailboat on a calm pond. 

I had the fantastic opportunity of getting up with Elsie to sail at night.  Complete magic.  Ruby performed a graceful, swooping corkscrew dance on the water, and you felt as if you could touch the star blanket overhead.  In my mind I heard a favourite piece of music:  Metamorphosis by Philip Glass.  Tranquil, meditative, surreal.   I was spirited away.   Ruby is a beauty.  She is so wonderfully designed for us unsteady bipeds.  I kept discovering new spots to wedge into comfortably while underway.  She is never silent – I miss the gentle squeak of her rudder at night and the special swish and gurgle when she is settled into a broad reach. 

Today, finally, work is done and I have just packed a sea-bag for our forthcoming kayaking trip to Prince Rupert (long underwear, pile pants and jacket, woolly hat, foul weather gear) and I am fondly remembering swimming and snorkelling in bathwater-warm turquoise ocean.  Hmm.  We will be paddling down the outside passage from Prince Rupert to Klemtu and then taking the inside passage ferry back.  I insisted to Albert that we make a trip plan, with charts, marine radio, and a ferry booking.   Not show up and 'wing it' like a pair of ageing teenagers, like we normally do.  So, he made a plan.  And now we must hustle and bend to our paddles (20 nm per day) to catch the once weekly ferry in Klemtu on July 13.  Hmm.  These wilderness trips are, of course, wonderful and unique experiences in themselves but they most definitely do not include the pleasures of Elsie’s daily sundowner rum punches, warm breezes, and spending the day on deck in shorts and a T-shirt.
Would I go sailing again?  Unequivocally yes, at the drop of a hat.  Albert?  The mountain guide is still somewhat conflicted.  I still jump into action if the water is left running anywhere in the house………

Thursday, June 20, 2019

June 2019

In which we cruise up the New England coast, with a side trip to NYC.

We started June anchored in Newport, Rhode Island.  On Saturday, 1st, we went for a long walk along Belle View Avenue and back along the cliff walk, exiting at 40 steps.  Sunday dawned foggy, so we waited for that to clear before heading ashore then walked to the northern end of the cliff walk to complete it, only to find that it was still foggy here.  Also, being Sunday, the world and his yappy dog had the same idea so we cut it short and returned to base.  On Monday, it was time to head up river.  We picked up at 10:15 and, with 1 reef in for a WNW’ly F4 sailed through the bridge.  Passing Cananicut Island the wind dropped and we were tempted to shake the reef out.  It was well to resist this as, as soon as we cleared it the wind increased to F5 and we had to put in a second so it was a spirited sail up to Goddard memorial State Park, dropping anchor at 13:20.

Anchor up at 09:00 on Tuesday and motored the couple of miles to Apponaug to be hauled out.  As before, they were very helpful and we were soon high, dry and ready for some work. Tuesday and Wednesday were mostly spent scraping and rubbing down, badly needed with several layers of anti-fouling to come off.  There were also a couple of other jobs to be done: draining and re-filling saildrive gearbox oil; replacing anode on propeller and freeing up bolts on steering gear so that I could take up some slack which had developed.  The boatyard helpfully loaned tools, an impact driver to remove to drain plug on the saildrive and a blowtorch to encourage movement of seized bolts on the steering quadrant.  These all accomplished, on Thursday we painted on the new anti-fouling and then packed and tidied, we were ready to leave Ruby on Friday.

 I needed to make one of my periodic visits to Scotland, to see Mr Lowe, the surgeon who had operated on me 5 years before and Elsie had arranged a house sit at New Rochelle, NY, to keep her entertained in my absence.  Public transport being as it is, in the States, I had hired a car for the trip down and used it to top up the propane cylinder before departure.  We then had a not very pleasant drive down the I95 but a much more pleasant welcome on arrival.  The house was very comfortable and our hosts, also sailors, took us out to dinner at their posh club.  Despite us putting on our best clothes (I even ironed my shirt!) we attracted a few side-long glances, but that didn’t put us off our very strong rum cocktails and dinner.  Interesting conversation – despite being life-long sailors, they were of the racing, rather than cruising, kind and had difficulty with envisaging sailing overnight on long passages.  They dropped us off at their house, then returned to the club and their moored motor yacht, on which they were setting off the following day for a river cruise.

While Elsie took the dog, Huck, out for his evening walk, I read the welcome notes in which it mentioned to be aware that he had a tendency to pick up bones.  Sure enough, he returned with one in his mouth.  Elsie couldn’t get him to drop it.  Could I?  I tried.  Growl.  Tried again. Snap, and a large hole appeared in the back of my left hand.  It was now 10 O’clock on a Friday evening, in America, with notoriously high healthcare costs and our medical insurance is only for hospitalisation and repatriation, not minor injuries. We sought advice from our hosts, by phone, but their preferred clinic was closed, so it was off to the local hospital.  As an ambulance would, no doubt cost hundreds of dollars, I decided to drive myself.  Our car was in the garage, which I knew how to open from the outside but not the inside. After a fruitless search for the relevant button, we used the emergency pull cord and drove out.  We now had to close the roller door. Again, I had to resort to ‘manual’ and, in my haste managed to trap a finger and heard the crunch of bone. Things did improve a bit after this as, marvellously, the local administration had a policy of paying medical costs for dog bites (they don’t want them unreported) but, by the time I had been treated and collected a prescription, it was 2 the following morning before we got to bed.  As I was flying out the following night, the fact that this was 7 AM UK time was relevant. On Saturday, I did indeed fly out for a scarce week in Scotland, leaving Elsie to have a great cultural week in The Big Apple.  I flew back in the following Friday, allowing me a day of culture at MOMA then, with another hire car, we returned to Ruby on Sunday 16th.
Street art NYC

Our plan had been to have a fairly relaxing day on Monday and launch on Tuesday morning.  A look at the weather forecast showed that Tuesday was likely to be very wet so, with car available, we dashed out to do a big shop and prepared for a Monday morning launch.  Once again, the yard proved flexible and we were back in the water by 10:30.  We motored back to our anchorage at the park to check and top up the gearbox oil then it was off to Newport taking advantage of the ebb tide.  For about 4 miles.  Then something made me check bilges to discover that the engine was blowing out its coolant.  Back to the anchorage.  Wait for it to cool down.  Top up.  Run engine for 20 minutes. Then, cautiously, set off again.  This time, the coolant stayed where it should be and we made it back to Newport at 18:00.  Tuesday was, as predicted, fairly horrible so we just sheltered.  On Wednesday, we managed a few jobs, including replacing a hose on the salt water cooling system and installing plugs, that Elsie’s brother had kindly made, into the boarding ladder to, hopefully, stop it trying to eat our new dinghy. We had hoped to move on East on Thursday but again the weather was foul so we delayed.


We eventually got away on the Saturday morning, hoisting sail at 09:00 in a NW’ly F4 to broad reach down the river, gybe and continue along the coast, almost to the entrance of the Cape Cod Canal.  We anchored in Wings cove at 15:45, hoping for a relaxing end to the day.  It was not to be asst arrival checks showed that, once again, the engine was blowing out cooling water.  As we would have to motor through the canal, we could continue no further until this was fixed. We would receive no assistance the following day, it being Sunday so I would have plenty of time to play before handing the problem over to someone competent.  Once things had cooled down sufficiently, I started retracing steps and removed t he ‘boot’ on the end of the heat exchanger, where I had found debris weeks earlier.  The solution (I hoped) was in front of me.  The raw water and ‘fresh’ water cooling systems are separated here by the ‘boot’ being gripped on a bronze seal.  If this had not been done up tight enough…  Cleaned, tightened, run.  A few drips only – hurrah. 
Storm front, Wings Bay.

The tidal current through the canal determined our start on Sunday. It would turn in our favour at 09:00 so we readied at 8, gave the engine a good run and set off at 08:30.  We hoisted , reefed, sail before entering, just in case we had to shut down in a hurry and proceeded through at 1800 RPM, so as to not put too much stress on our still suspect engine. This gave us a speed through the water of about 5 ½ knots though, with a following wind and a building current, we saw 10 knots at times.  This was not quite enough to keep ahead of a following pusher tug and barge and we had to pull over to let them pass with about a mile to go.  Once clear of the canal we hoisted full sail, stopped the engine and accelerated away at 8 knots with a F3-4 on the beam.  This got us into Provincetown at 15:00 and we anchored just off the eastern end of the inner breakwater at the Town.  This time, there were no nasty surprises so we took what we thought was a well-earned rest.  On Monday, 24th, we had a long stroll around the town in the morning and a shorter one to the supermarket in the afternoon.  As the wind was forecast to go southerly overnight, we picked up anchor and motored over to the town float for water (paid for with quarters in a slot – we paid $3 for about 50 gallons) then to the south of the harbour for a more comfortable berth for the night.  Looking ahead to the following day, it seemed that we would get a good sail over to Boston but could expect rain and, maybe, thunderstorms any time after 14:00.  We, accordingly, rose at 5 and were under way at 05:35.  We started with full plain sail but once we were sure that the wind was steady S3, brought out the cruising chute and had a great broad reach across. The wind started to die with about 8 miles to go so, with rain approaching, we put away the chute and reverted to motor-sailing under main and genoa.
Sunset, Provincetown

Boston harbour is a huge expanse but nor really welcoming to visiting yachts.  I glanced at marinas and saw that we could expect to pay anything from $150 – 280 per night, way above our budget.  There were no other anchored yachts but we had information showing where others had stopped in the past.  This gave conflicting advice so we worked out where we thought we would be least in the way – on the north side, clear of all commercial activity.  That evening, a coastguard boat stopped by.  I had put a flashing light in the cockpit to make us more conspicuous, and he objected to that, but not our position.  Two mornings later, the harbourmaster’s launch called by – his colleague had stopped the previous evening and wanted us to move (we had been on board).  He saw no problem, himself.  That evening, just as we were about to have dinner, said colleague arrived, siren blaring and shouted at us through his bullhorn.  We were to move to his designated spot, almost opposite the fuel dock, where we would be in the way of queueing ferries.  His harbour, we moved. The lack of provision for visitors extends to landing places for a dinghy.  There is one finger pier with space for a boat on each side.  One side is limited to 30 minutes; the other to 4 hours.  As each usually had a, hard, boat moored, we just snuck to the inshore end and tied to a cleat but it wouldn’t work if several dinghies wanted to park.
Boston by night

While in Boston, we took in some of the local history.  On Wednesday, we took a walking tour of the downtown area with an entertaining, and quite informative, guide.  A slow stroll back along the route took us to the ‘Cheers’ bar where we lunched and took photos, along with most of the clientele. 
Cheerts!


Thursday morning, we toured the State House (the ‘Parliament’ building for the state) once past a very easy security check, we were allowed to roam almost at will and had a guided tour with a very quietly spoken and somewhat confused guide. Lunch was a hotdog in the park, accompanied by some nice, easy, light jazz, then off for another tour in the afternoon t o look at some of the sites relevant to African American history in the town.  On Friday, we self-guided our way out through the north side of the town, past Paul Revere’s house and church to Bunker Hill, where the British won the opening battle of the war of independence but not convincingly enough to deter the colonials from continuing.  Down the hill, we visited the naval museum but missed out on visiting the historic ships as time was getting on.
Bunker Hill memorial

Our plan was still to get up to Canada as soon as practicable, but the weather was not co-operating.  The wind was either light or from ahead.  It looked, however, as though we might get a 24-hour slot of sailable wind starting on Saturday morning.  In order to take advantage of this, we picked up anchor at 16:20 on Friday and headed out to shorten our voyage by 10 miles or so.  At first, we had light wind right ahead but, once clear of the harbour, we were able to put it on the bow and hoisted full sail.  As we did so, the auto-pilot tripped out on low voltage (even though the batteries were fully charged).  Checking to battery monitor showed wildly fluctuating voltage and the charge controller was dark. We immediately shut down the engine to investigate.  Nothing obviously wrong and at the, second, re-start the problem disappeared.  Fingers crossed it was a one-off glitch but, when time permits, I will do a thorough investigation of wiring.  The wind built and veered, to give us a beam reach and 8 knots, so we passed by our intended stop and continued on to Marblehead.  This shallow bay is 2 miles long X ½ mile wide so you would think there would be plenty of space to anchor.  The entire area is, however, covered with over 2300 moorings.  The plan was to creep past the ‘no wake’ buoys and drop the hook before the mooring field.  Being New England, even this space was taken by fishing floats but, after a little searching, we found just enough space, anchored and tidied up.  A helpful local stopped by and told us that, as it was now 8 PM, we could take a club mooring.  As thunderstorms were forecast, we took this option and had a late supper.  A quick check of the weather showed that our hoped-for window had disappeared and we could only expect about 4 hours of wind around the middle of the following day.   While taking the mooring made us more secure in the event of strong winds, they completely died in the night and I was woken by the tump, tump, tump of the mooring buoy on the bow.  Oh well.

We woke to the sound of thunder and a sailing wind so let go at 07:20.  The first couple of hours went well and we hoped for a decent distance but, at the time the wind was forecast to start, it died so we popped into Rockport harbour and anchored in Sandy Bay. As usual, there were many fishing floats but we found a big space to anchor and had a lazy afternoon.   I was woken at midnight by a grating sound.  Fortunately, this came not from the keel but the anchor cable which must have wrapped itself round a rock.  Winds were light so we left it until morning, then shifted closer to the old harbour.  After a leisurely breakfast, we dinghied ashore and strolled round this very touristy town.  We passed on the tarot readings and lobster rolls but did manage to locate a grocery and a laundromat.  Ashore again in the afternoon to take advantage of the latter so, with nearly full fuel and water tanks ad clean clothes, we are ready to head up to Canada.  What could possibly go wrong?

June Stats: 

Over Ground   194
Log                  212










Sunday, June 2, 2019

May 2019


In which we say goodbye to the Caribbean for another season and head up the East coast of the USA.

May started with us, including Albi and Di, at Warderick Wells in the Exumas. The winds and showers of the previous day had abated and we went for a good walk down the island, pausing to re-instate our driftwood tribute at Booboo Hill. In the afternoon, Albi, Di and I went for another snorkelling trip to the Emerald Rock area. Again wonderful with an amazing variety of fish and corals. On Thursday, we let go late morning and sailed, under genoa only, downwind to Norman cay. As we arrived, the chart plotter turned itself off. And on. And off again. Fortunately, I had charts on my phone and was able to navigate in. Experimentation showed that the plotter was completely unusable so I dug out the spare, which didn’t display AIS. We would just have to do without that. The anchorage was comfortable enough but not spectacular. On Friday we had an earlier start and sailed, alternately broad reaching and goose-winged almost to Nassau, turning just a couple of miles short to anchor at Rose Island beach. This seemed crowded but, as 4 O’clock chimed, most of the tourist boats disappeared and we were able to work our way into a prime spot. From here we swam across to the fringing reef and spent an hour or so drifting along it for another wonderful display.

Saturday dawned and it was the end of our guests’ holiday. We motored into Nassau harbour and dropped them off at a fuel dock, then headed north east up to Egg Island at the top of Eleuthera. With the wind blowing at 12 – 15 knots from the south east, we had a perfect beam reach and, as we were following the line of the Eleutheran fringing reef, we had flat seas. Bliss. The shelter at Egg Island wasn’t as great as we had hoped but rigging a bridle on the anchor cable kept us head to swell and made for a comfortable night. We were up at dawn on Sunday for the 50 mile leg to Little Harbour. We made slow but steady progress, initially under full plain sail, then with Main and cruising chute, with a following F3. The tide was flooding on arrival so we had a smooth entrance. We couldn’t work our way in far enough at our intended spot so continued 4 miles further north to anchor in the lee of Lynard cay. There were several other boats there but we managed to find a secluded spot. On Monday, we motored the twenty miles to Marsh Harbour and anchored while I got my diving cylinder filled and we went for provisions at Maxwell’s, the biggest supermarket in the Bahamas. We got a little carried away and bought rather more fresh meat, fruit and dairy than we could reasonably eat between here and the USA, where imports of these are banned but at least we wouldn’t go short on voyage. A further 5 miles of motoring took us to Archers Cay to anchor for possibly our last night in the Bahamas this year. Today was the fifth anniversary of my operation. At the time of diagnosis, I was told that my chances of surviving this long were about 20%, so we had a little celebration, with a bottle of wine to wash down dinner. The celebrations were cut short by a plague of flying ants suddenly arriving and infesting the saloon. Much spraying of insecticide and sweeping up of ants ensued.


As always with a long voyage in prospect, we had been watching the weather closely. A good slot had come and gone a week before. We couldn’t take it not only because we had guests on board but we would have been in the period of purdah after the expiry of our previous American Cruising Permit. Another slot was approaching. Not ideal, they seldom are, but we might be able to break the back of our northern passage, getting as far as Beaufort N.C. or even Norfolk, Va. The forecast was for light winds to start with and maybe for a while in the middle but we might be able to get past Cape Hatteras without gales, headwinds or having to traverse the Intra Coastal Waterway, saving 4 days of motoring. Another early start to motor the 35 miles to Spanish Cay, our last possible fuel stop, only to find that we had to wait while they took fuel from a barge. I was in two minds whether to continue, both because of the delay and because their tanks would be stirred up, possibly contaminating the diesel. I figured that, as there was a long distance from tanks to pump, we would be getting our fuel from what was already in the pipeline and we had a leisurely lunch, getting away after 1600. This only just gave us time to exit at Shroud Cay in daylight but we managed it and settled for heading north using motor assistance in light easterly winds. Surprisingly, these freshened and we were able to stop the engine and be sailing by sunset.

We hoped to gain assistance from the Gulf Stream but, to begin with it was too far to our west. It then swung east, so we decided to head directly north to intercept it, 300 miles away and, hopefully, hitch a ride all the way to Hatteras. The first night we made slow but steady progress, then had to put a reef in for the next 24 hours as the wind increased. On Thursday afternoon, the wind died to a F2 and, to make our ‘slot’ we motor assisted. The wind increased again overnight and by midnight we were feeling the effects of the Gulf Stream which gave us a nice push as we turned to follow it but more motor assistance was required on Friday. We turned north again on Saturday morning, broad reaching towards the entrance of the Chesapeake. As we followed the coast, the wind veered and gave Elsie a great F4 beam reach through her night watch. We passed the Chesapeake bridge at 08:00 on Sunday, dropped sails at 10:15 and motored up the Elizabeth river to berth on a private dock, owned by the OCC port officers, Greta and Gary, at 12:30. These lovely people not only provided us with somewhere to stay but gave us lifts to fill our propane cylinder and other shopping. Greta even did our laundry, not an enviable task given the state of it after nearly a week at sea. Immigration came to visit us that afternoon and I went round to the local CBP office on Monday morning to obtain a new Cruising licence for Ruby. This time, I made sure that it was only valid for 8 months, so that we would not have to delay re-entering the States as we did this year.
Customs House, Norfolk

It had been a poor spring on this coast and the temperature dropped again overnight so we were walking around in jackets, long trousers and shoes with socks which all felt very uncomfortable. We also had to dig out the duvet and even ran the central heating on Monday evening. Getting the chart plotter fixed was a priority, as we find AIS invaluable. What I wanted was to combine the good bits of our two plotters to make one that worked. A local company couldn’t do that but sold us yet another one that did. I called Pete, the man from Oriental that worked with us there. He thought that he could fix the on/off button problem so I sent that set off to him. The VHF radio, which hadn’t been receiving for 6 months, was sent to Standard Horizon in California for them to fix. Each of these required walking twice to the post office: once to obtain a box, bubble wrap, etc and once to post. As it was 1 ½ miles each way, we got plenty of exercise. Having got these, and a few other little, jobs done we took some time for sight seeing, including the nautical museum and the battleship Wisconsin.

Again, we were watching the weather, hoping for a good slot to sail up the coast, hopefully as far as New York. Several twelve to twenty four hour periods looked possible but it seemed that if we left Chesapeake bay on Sunday morning we might get all the way. We had farewell drinks with Gary and Greta on the dock on Friday evening, then went for a valedictory American breakfast on Saturday morning at a diner – stack of ‘cakes, eggs bacon and maple syrup. To catch the tidal currents, we left the dock at 12:30 and motored down to the bridge, anchoring in the lee of one of the islands where it changes to a tunnel. The forecast had now changed to give a sailing wind that evening so, after a little rest and a good meal, we picked up at 19:30 and headed out.

The tide had now changed and we had to battle it for the first few hours crossing the mouth of the bay. As soon as we had cleared it, the wind veered and we were now on a broad reach and we continued, either broad reaching or goose-winged running, for the next 24 hours. Fog descended on us in the small hours of Sunday and stayed for 24 hours, making us very thankful for the AIS and radar, though there was little traffic. On Monday morning, as we passed up the coast of New Jersey, came another decision point. If we turned 20 degrees to port, we could be at Atlantic Highlands, the gateway to New York, in 6 hours; 20 to Starboard and we could be in Block Island, gateway to Rhode Island in 24. We had time to spare but, given how long it might take us to negotiate New York and Long Island Sound, we opted for the latter.

A month earlier, when servicing the main engine, I had had to replace the impeller for the raw water pump as blades were missing but had never got round to finding and removing them. This bit of laziness now bit as, on starting the engine to charge batteries, no water emerged from the exhaust and it quickly over-heated. Out with the portable generator which, fortunately started first time.

I was wakened on Tuesday by the sound of Elsie taking reefs out of the mainsail, as the wind had dropped. This proved to be only temporary and had to soon put one back in. As we approached our destination and I considered how to drop the main without using the engine, the wind suddenly increased further to 30 knots so I quickly went from one to three reefs, almost solving that problem. When it came to dropping the last bit, it came down neatly enough on a close reach. We entered Great Salt Pond at Block Island under a small amount of genoa, starting the engine only once inside to lower and set the anchor. A few hours rest, then a tidy up and investigation of the engine. The missing impeller blades were found in the heat exchanger and the cooling system was working again. The sun was shining and the temperature was, supposedly 17 C, but it felt might cold to us and we snuggled down with the heating on that night.

We stayed 2 nights at Salt Pond. We didn’t go ashore but shared evening drinks with Connie and Tony, a Canadian couple on a 38 ft Wauquiez, Sage. On the 23rd, there was a nice SW’ly F4-5 so we headed downwind to Newport under just the Jib. We spent the rest of the month here, just enjoying the views of beautiful boats, having walks ashore and another American diner breakfast at Bishop’s. It being Memorial Day weekend, there were specials on at the supermarket, including fresh lobster at $6.99 a pound so we made pigs of ourselves with that, stuffed clams, king prawns… I also experimented with making American style breakfasts on board with bacon, eggs and pancakes with syrup. A good start to the day, but no lunch required.
Bishops Diner

On Friday 31st, we took a bus up to Providence, about 30 miles away. We had intended to do a self guided walking tour but the ap wasn’t working well so instead we went to the state art museum which is located at the college of design. This had an eclectic mix if everything from pharoic Egypt to video installations, by way of byzantine art, impressionists, 19th century furniture and patchwork quilts. There were also a couple of exhibitions of silverware and picture printing methods.  I guess if you were taking someone who is never going to another museum it covers all the bases. 2 Monets, 2 Picassos, 2 Rodins, etc. We agreed on the return journey that we have been spoiled by seeing some of the greatest pieces of art at so many major galleries and are now disappointed when we are in the presence of something not quite top rate.

Monthly stats

Over Ground    1296
Log                   1045

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

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 2nd 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 14th 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






Monday, March 25, 2019

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 15th 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)