Category: Caribbean

San Blas – Where time forgot

Our return to Santa Marta from our trip to the Amazon, marked the beginning of the end of our month in Colombia.   We were now on weather watch, waiting for a good window for the 2.5 day passage to Panama and it didn’t look like we would have to wait too long.  

We needed to stock up on provisions as we knew it would be a number of weeks before we were going to be anywhere near shops, as we were heading to some very remote places with no roads, airplanes or ports close by.    We made several trips to the supermarket and stocked up on all the essentials and then went back for more to fill any spare cupboards or storage spaces!   We bought fruit and vegetables which would last at least a week as these would become luxury items in the weeks to come! 

A few boats we knew arrived in Santa Marta just as we were preparing to go, so we spent our final couple of evenings socialising before checking out of Colombia on one of the last days of November 2022.   We had waved goodbye to Zen Again earlier that day as, being a little smaller and slower in the forecast conditions than us, they felt they wanted to leave by mid-day to ensure they arrived in Panama by Friday morning.   We decided to wait until 10pm to leave and slipped out with our fuel tanks filled to the brim with the cheapest fuel we’ll get, probably ever again!  

The wind was steady and we made excellent speed, breaking our best 24hr distance covered record by making 161NM.  In fact we were going too fast and decided to try to slow down.  We calculated we would not be able to reach landfall before sunset on Thursday and did not want to arrive in Puerto Obaldi at night time as we had heard the anchorage was quite rolly and uncomfortable.   Our decision to go to Puerto Obaldi was made due to the cheaper check-in options plus starting our exploration of the San Blas region of Panama from here, right on the border with Colombia, meant we had access to some of the most remote Guna Indian villages which was a real drawcard for us.  

Zen Again managed to arrive just as the light was fading on Thursday evening, but we were a few miles behind and decided to stand off the coast and heave-to for seven hours as we waited for daylight before heading into the exposed harbour.   (Heaving-to is a method of stopping the boat while having sails up to keep the boat in a comfortable, balanced position).  As it turned out, I’m glad we made this decision as we both managed to get a solid three hours of good sleep before we re-set the sails and headed into the harbour just as Avanti, another boat who left Santa Marta after us, arrived.  

Checking-in was a long, hot procedure and involved a visit to the police in a concrete bunker looking building with no windows or doors but a desk under a hole in the wall, where they inspected our passports.   Next, we needed to visit the immigration office where a queue had started outside the closed door.   Every so often someone would come out of the office, look at the line of people and go back in, shutting the door behind them.   We had just gotten to the front of the queue when, after about a wait of 45 minutes in the hot sun, the immigration officer appeared and apologised profusely for the delay, but now he had to go to the airport and would be back in 30 minutes.   I think he could tell we were crest-fallen, because 10 minutes later he was back and said he would process us quickly, which he did!   From there we went to the Port Captain to get a cruising permit.  He had no computer or typewriter and carefully completed about seven forms in neat handwriting, all designed for a dot matrix printer with perforated strips down the side of the carboned paper and all asking for the same information.   Quite what happened to the forms or the copies after we left, I have no idea!   After paying US$200 for a one year cruising permit for the whole of Panama – Caribbean and Pacific coasts – we were told to go to the copyshop as we needed to give the police a copy of our permit.   Back at the copyshop we were then charged US$10 for anchoring in the bay while we checked in!    Armed with all our papers we returned to the police and gave them copies of everything which they carefully examined, added our names to a large, thick notebook, smiled and told us we were free to go!     And go we did.   As soon as we were back on the boat, we sailed out of the bay to find a more protected anchorage so we could enjoy a good night’s sleep!

Panama is a beautiful country which many cruisers skip through on their way to the canal.  This is a huge mistake as there are hundreds of unspoilt bays and villages untouched by time that are begging to be explored.   Using the only accurate charts made of this area from a cruising guide we exchanged for guides we no longer required when in Grenada, we headed up the coast following the hillsides covered in virgin rainforest.   We anchored near the end of an inlet at Puerto Escoses close to a group of huts that had been built over the water just off the sandy beach.   All the huts were empty, but some were still being built and we could see dug out canoes close by so assumed the huts were still being used but just not when we were there!    It was deliciously peaceful with only the sounds of the forest to disturb the peace as we headed to bed and slept for nine solid hours!

The Guna people are indigenous to Panama.   They are fiercely protective of their culture and have tried to prevent western influence in their lives.   They live in small communities which often don’t mix with other Guna communities, and the women wear colourful clothing with intricately embroidered designs on the front and back, called Molas.   They live very simple lives – the men fish in small wooden dug out canoes or tend their coconut plantations, the women look after the family and prepare the meals.   They have large families and, as we witnessed, due to the desire to keep the village tribes “pure” there appeared to be a lot of close family couplings, as we saw a number of birth defects in the young.    The houses are very simple, often one storied with a thatched roof and built on land very close to the sea.   Extended families live together so houses are made larger as the family grows or daughters marry – daughters remain in the houses of their parents and new husbands move into their family home.  Walking though the villages made me feel like we were in a place that time forgot.   Fortunately the Panama government has not quite forgotten them and a few years ago paid for solar panels to be installed in most Guna communities.  This has made a huge difference to the villages who are very proud of the energy these panels produce.

Each village has a Congress House and villages (men and women) must attend meetings there every day.  This is the place to sort out problems, concerns, plans or celebrations in the village.  The chief or Sahila, will oversee proceedings from a hammock in the centre of the large thatched building. The meetings can be long and tedious as they cover every day matters and issues from disagreements to travel passes, so members of the community are employed to let out loud shrieks at regular intervals, or prod people with long sticks to ensure everyone stays awake and alert!   

The previous night we had heard several bangs that sounded like gunshots and cheering from the beach near our boat.   It transpired that a large cat (we were told a Jaguar) had swam across to the island, passing our boat and making its way to the beach, when it was shot and killed – not to protect humans but to protect their farm animals.   I was very sad to see pictures of the beautiful animal the next day and relieved to learn it was a very rare happening.   

It surprised us that we saw no chickens in the villages – a common sight in Colombia and everywhere else we have visited.  Pigs often seen in small bamboo huts on stilts above the water.   This is for two reasons – the first to keep them clean as their droppings fall straight into the water, but the second is to avoid crocodiles taking them.   This is also the reason there are no chickens as they will encourage crocodiles into the village.

We motor sailed a short distance to the settlement of Ustupu, the largest village in San Blas.   We spent a happy few hours getting lost in the labyrinth of small streets and passages that wind between the thatched houses, enjoying walking without fear of a vehicle speeding down the road, with the only engine noises being generators to service the many restaurants in the village!    A woman appeared at an open window and beckoned us inside the small square building.   She was sewing beautiful Molas on an antique Singer sewing machine and had several on display.  I couldn’t resist and bought a brightly coloured one from her for $10, which I will treasure.   As we continued through a small, dusty square, a man and his son called us over and they proceeded to play a beautiful tune on their roughly made blow pipes, telling us there would be dancing in the square later.   We walked on to the northern coastline where waves break on sharp rocks that were covered in litter.   I tried to explain to the young boys who were playing football close by and had come over to see who these strange white giants were, how seeing all that rubbish made me sad, but they looked at me as if I had just confirmed I really was from another planet!

As the only boat anchored in the shallow dirty bay, we became a local attraction as men and young boys slowly paddled past us, shouting their greetings and waving as they grinned at us with friendly curiosity.   We purchased a few lobsters from a man who approached us in his dugout canoe, clinging onto the side of Cerulean as he showed us his catch.  One of them tried to make a break for it and I was almost tempted to let it go back into the water, as they were all quite small, but the thought of fresh lobster for dinner prevented me from doing so!   That night, under a full moon and clear skies, we ate like kings and listened to the merriment ashore.

We discovered it was Mother’s Day and, on taking the dinghy up a small river in the north of the bay, saw a large gathering on the bank, near a small coconut and banana plantation in a clearing in the jungle.   The women enthusiastically waved us to come over and, as we scrambled up the steep muddy bank to join them, they thrust a bowl of food in our hands.   The women were all dressed in red with beautiful Molas on the front and back of their robes, red beads around their legs, red headscarf and red rouge on their cheeks.  They cooked in a huge pan over an open fire as the men and with children sat around watching them.   Through google translate, we were able to communicate with the husband of one of the women cooking.  I asked why the women were working on their special day and he answered, “They love to work.  If they don’t, they die!”    It then turned out we were actually in a graveyard, surrounded by their mothers and ancestors as we celebrated and remembered them.   Youngs guys were renovating an old tomb, fixing fresh leaves onto the thatched roof.   It was incredibly special to share that time with the happy group of different generations of brightly dressed women and we returned down the river, following a trail of red petals that were floating downstream in memory of all their mothers that had passed.

As we moved further west along the mainland Panama coast, we past a number of villages, all built perilously close to the pounding surf and often every square inch of the small island taken up with houses.   Occasionally we saw evidence of where there was once land and now the sea was washing away a construction that had stood there – bridges to nowhere stood as memorials of days recently gone by and the remains of a dock now stood attached to nothing but the sea floor.   As these scenes unfolded, I couldn’t help but ponder on the overwhelming sadness and irony of the situation – here were a peaceful race of people who have shunned Western influence and tradition, yet they are now at the sharp end of having to deal with the very real issue of rising sea levels while plastic washes ashore on their beaches, carried there by the strong currents from Colombia and further afield. 

Colourful Curacao

We pulled out of Bonaire mooring field, waving goodbye to friends in the warm morning sunlight.   Zen Again had left already and we could see the fading triangle of their sail as they headed towards a large bank of cloud on the horizon.   After a year of island hopping on both sides of the Atlantic, we were now heading to explore our final island nation in the Caribbean.

We quickly set our sails and turned off the engine as we picked up speed on a nice reach, heading south west as we edged passed Klein Bonaire and gave a mental wave goodbye to the fabulous snorkelling and underwater paradise that is hidden below the shallow blue waters.  To avoid using the steering as much as possible, due to our failing bearing which had caused our wheel to jam a day earlier, we set up Hilda the Hydrovane so we could lock off the wheel.

We were only about five miles out when lightning and thunder started crashing in front of us and, on looking at the radar, it was clear we were not going to avoid it if we continued on the same course.   Zen Again had already gybed to avoid the heavy black cloud that loomed ahead and we followed suit, heading north west to try and get infront of the storm clouds and avoid the bolts of lightning that lit up the mid-morning darkness.    When we were about halfway between Bonaire and Curacao on our 40NM journey, we gybed again as the clouds disappeared and we made good speed to our destination on the south west coast of the island.   Zen Again were not far behind us as we turned into the narrow entrance leading to Spanish Waters, a protected area of bays offering excellent shelter in several different bays in a relatively quiet setting. 

We anchored in the western most area and shared a celebratory sundowner with Zen Again who anchored next to us.   We had arrived on Independence Day – 10/ 10 (10 October) the day that Curacao became a nation inside the Dutch Kingdom in 2010 when the Dutch Antilles were dissolved after a referendum.   Everything was shut so we didn’t attempt to navigate the 7kms into the capital, Willemstad, to check in, but decided to wait until the next day.  

Early the next morning we set out to start the process of checking in by first finding the immigration office which was well tucked away in a small non-descript building with a temporary looking sign on the door giving the only clue what was inside.   We were processed quite quickly and then walked into the town of Willemstad to complete the customs clearance, crossing the long floating swingbridge that opens on request for all traffic going up the river towards the port and marina.   As we walked across the bridge, the colourful, historic waterfront buildings on the eastern side of the river reminded us of a child’s drawing of houses as the picturesque tall, coloured rectangular buildings dominated the waterfront.    Once cleared in with customs the check-in procedure was complete and we enjoyed a coffee and cake at a waterside café before wandering through the narrow streets and exploring the town.  There are two things that immediately stand out in Willemstad, the colourful houses on the waterfront and the beautiful street art that adorns alot of the walls and shops in the town.

Curacao has a population of approx. 150,000 and Willemstad is the capital with the majority of the population living within the confines of the city.   It is the largest of the ABC islands and has a very different feel to Bonaire, not only because of the colour of the water in the anchorage, but the size of the town and general Hussle and Bussell of being in a larger community.    The history of Curacao is interesting with the original inhabitants coming from South America hundreds of years before the first Europeans arrived.   The Spanish arrived in Curacao in 1499 and enslaved most of the natives, transporting them to other Spanish colonies for forced labour.   The Spanish used Curacao as a bridge for exploring northern South America and eventually built a settlement in 1527 which was then governed by Venezuela as the Spanish continued to colonise South America, eventually abandoning the island in favour of building communities on the mainland.    The Dutch took over the island in 1634 following the Eighty Years’ War of independence between The Netherlands and Spain.   They used the island as the main centre for slaves, transporting them to Curacao before selling them elsewhere in the Caribbean and South America.  Many Dutch colonists prospered from the slave trade and built the colourful houses on the waterfront in Willemstad.

We decided to rent a car for a couple of days and explore the northern parts of the island that are hard to get to by bus.   After attempting, and failing, to find a place to purchase our required bearing, we headed north, first to Santa Cruz and then on to Playa Lagun.   The small beach was quite busy with restaurants accessed by steep steps on the northern side of the bay.    It was a hot day, so we all went for a snorkel before lunch.   There were lots of turtles feeding, surprisingly on fish, which I’d never seen before, and as I swam into the rocky shallows, more turtles were lazily scavenging in the rocks, not bothered by my presence as they occasionally pushed themselves up to the surface and took two breaths before continuing their leisurely swim.  

We walked along the coastal path in the National Park and watched the waves break on the rugged coastline, sending water high above our heads from the viewing platform.   Lizards scurried for shelter as we continued our walk to a small beach which, in season is a turtle laying reserve.   It saddened me hugely to see the beach covered in rubbish.   I’m not sure whether it had been washed up there or whether visitors had dropped it but it certainly looked as if it had come from the sea.  What frustrated me further was that we had paid an entrance fee into the park and rangers were parked at most of the areas identified as “of interest” yet they did nothing except sit in their cars playing music and giving visitors a cursory nod.   Why could they not start picking up the rubbish???

Back at the boat we ordered our new bearing and casing from the UK and, after a false start where the bearing ended up in Exeter and then didn’t move for a week, we waited expectantly for our parcel to arrive.   While we waited we visited a slave museum in Willemstad and the oldest synagogue in continuous use in the Americas which was in an inconspicuous looking building but hidden behind the walls was the lovely Mikve Israel-Emanuel Synagogue which was built in 1732.  The most noticeable feature was sand on the floor which depicts the Sinai Desert.  It also remembers those who put sand on the floor of secret rooms so early Jews in Curacao could continue to worship and the sand helped muffle the sound of their service.  

With our parcel still days away we explored a few dive spots close to our anchorage and snorkelled over a wreck of a tug boat which was now home to new coral and lots of colourful fish and conga eels.   One evening we tried our hand at dance lessons, attempting to learn one of the many beautiful (when done properly!) South American dance styles.  

Eventually our courier parcel arrived and Steve immediately set to work installing the new bearing – it was a huge relief when it slid into place relatively easily – well, nothing a bit of banging wouldn’t fix – and we took the boat on a test drive around the crowded anchorage to make sure the steering felt good and everything worked as it should!   Fortunately all went well, which was just as well, as we planned to leave the next day.   There had been very few weather windows for our passage to Colombia while we had been waiting for our parcel, so we wanted to take the first opportunity as we knew bad weather was coming and there would not be another window for at least a week. 

On a very wet morning we set off to complete the check out procedures with our planned sailing passage posse of ZenAgain and Seraphina.  By the time we reached immigration we were all soaked through and crammed into the small busy office to await our turn.  The people infront of us were asking if they could check out on behalf of a captain who had broken both his ankles attempting to perform a backflip on land – it hadn’t ended well!   Friends had met him a few days earlier when he was literally crawling back to his dinghy to return to his boat.   Immigration would not concede and instructed the two attempting to check out, that they needed to bring him in a car to the office and then the officers would kindly allow him to stay in the car while they completed the paperwork!   We had been told of a number of boats that had been turned away by immigration when they had attempted to check in.  Two boats had visited Venezuela prior to arriving in Curacao and one South African boat who did not have the appropriate visa.   Fortunately Bonaire are much more accommodating!   Our check out went smoothly for the three boats, and we were soon back in the rain heading to customs to complete the procedure.   Now we were checked out and soaking wet, we all contemplated whether it was a good idea to leave that afternoon, as planned, or wait until the morning.    Fred, an 81 year old solo sailor who was on his 3rd circumnavigation, announced he was going to wait until the morning while ZenAgain and we continued to discuss the merits of the best time to leave.   Steve and I were still trying to decide when ZenAgain pulled up their anchor and motored over to say goodbye.   We decided to wait an hour and follow them out, letting Fred know so he could follow behind us.    We were expecting rain and wind for the whole passage and when we heard Fred on the radio about 3hrs later stating he was considering stopping in Aruba as there wasn’t enough wind, we started to question whether the forecast was going to be accurate after-all.  

Learning the ABC’s

Bonaire – the bluest water and best underwater scenery we have yet experienced, add to this a visit from my sister to make Bonaire one of our favourite destinations.

I feel I should emphasize that we love our boat – despite all the breakages, problems and challenges we have had, we don’t believe this is anything more than usual when undertaking a journey like ours in a 28yr old boat, although the type of things that have failed have been a little more challenging!  Sadly this is just part of the adventure and we have learned to understand that this journey is 10% sailing, 10% exploring and 80% maintenance.   Our regular servicing and checks have definitely prevented us from experiencing more issues but there will always be things that break or wear away that are hidden – only a boat that stays in one place stays in one piece so we just have to find a way to repair things and sometimes be creative!

We left Grenada mid-morning and headed North West, catching sight of Tokimata, our buddy boat, as we rounded the south western headland.   This was the first time we had buddy sailed with another NZ boat and it felt like we were in good company as we heard Peter’s familiar kiwi accent coming over the VHF radio!  

We had decided to try a different sail combination and had rigged another large jib to a removable forestay before leaving the anchorage in Grenada.   With clear air, we hoisted the hanked on jib and then unfurled our poled out yankee, leaving the mainsail in its sailbag.   The boat immediately responded, picking up speed and cutting through the Atlantic roll, giving us a fast and comfortable sail away from the green hills of Grenada.   We watched some large rain clouds pass either side of us as we continued our sail North West and into the night.   Our plan was to stay about 60NM north of the Venezuelan coast as we had read reports it could be unsafe to sail too close due to piracy, although we had not met anyone who had experienced any problems.

The moon was ¾ full and shone brightly until it set at about midnight on the first night as we tried to get into the slow routine of passage making and sleeping on cue!   Steve always takes the first 3hr watch from 8pm while I rest in our cabin.   Hilda, the hydrovane, was set and working perfectly as we continued on our 400+NM passage to Bonaire, meaning we could turn most of our instruments off and save on power consumption.   During passage our solar in-take is reduced due to more shadow on the panels so we carefully monitor the level of our batteries to make sure we are not letting them run down too low.    Steve had been on watch for about an hour when a large squall hit us.   These squalls are hard to see at night but can be monitored on radar, which we regularly scanned, particularly at night and considering most boats, like us, had turned off their AIS so were not as easy to keep track of.   We knew there was a weather system approaching but it sped up and hit us a lot quicker than anticipated.   I rushed up on deck to help reef one of the jibs as the rain fell in torrents, lasting only five minutes and giving us both, and the boat, a refreshing shower, cooling us down from the tropical evening heat!  The boat settled down again, still with our two headsails working well as the night passed quickly with very little traffic while I spent most of my watch stargazing and in quiet awe of the vastness of the ocean and sky around us.   I’m often amazed how I can sit and do absolutely nothing but observe the light on the water or look up at the millions of stars above me and feel at total peace.  

Each night we talked to our friends on Tokimata, Escapade of London and ZenAgain on SSB Radio to give position reports, weather updates and news on the day’s events!   Tokimata were following a similar track to us about 20NM behind while Escapade and ZenAgain were still in Grenada and it was comforting to know they were keeping track of our progress!   

We were still making great headway with Hilda keeping us on course at speeds of upto 8knots.  On day two our dreams of catching another Mahi Mahi were realised and we hauled a beautiful fish on board which Steve masterly bled and filleted so we could have a wonderful dinner that night and for the next couple of dinners.  By now we had altered course so the wind was more on our beam and we stowed the second jib and pulled up the main.   On our last night five swallows joined us on board, four perched on one line and one on another rope facing them.   The four kept vigil all night, swaying as the boat rolled until the morning when we discovered the solitary bird had died.   We gave it a burial at sea and watched as the remaining four birds took flight and headed out across the ocean.

On the morning of day three the faint outline of the lowlands of Bonaire slowly came into view until we could finally make out the glaring white pyramid shapes of sea salt mounds on the shore line.    A large pod of dolphins played in our bow wave as the morning sun accentuated the clear deep blue waters we were cutting through.   The three day sail had been one of the best passages we had experienced with some real champagne sailing, calm seas and clear nights.   We felt rested and happy as we made our way towards the next island adventure.

Bonaire is the second largest island in the Netherlands Antilles, a group of three main islands located 50NM off the coast of Venezuela, comprising of Aruba, Bonaire and Curacao, generally known as the ABC’s.   Each island has its own distinctive flavour with Bonaire being known for its world class diving, due to a protected reef that surrounds the island.   The island is small – only 285sq km and about 40km long with a population of around 20,000 – the same size as Ashburton in NZ.   A number of the population are descendants of slaves who were brought in from Africa to work in the salt fields.   After the abolition of slavery in the mid 1800’s the island, and the people, were largely forgotten with the salt production closing down.   All this changed after the war when the salt fields were re-opened and the tourism boom started. 

Today the island is a mix of black, South American and Dutch, in fairness it is mostly white Europeans who have moved here on a free Dutch one way visa and this seems to have contributed to a building boom and a huge increase in the cost of housing.   The island became a municipal of The Netherlands in 2010 which means a Principal or Governor from The Netherlands, oversees the elected local council, while the two other islands in the ABC’s – Curacao and Aruba – chose to go independent, probably because their population base allowed them to do this.

After securing a mooring buoy, and helping our friends on Cushla (who we knew from Grenada and arrived just after us) and Tokimata do the same, we visited Customs and Immigration to check in.  This proved incredibly easy and quick with no mention of the US$70pp tourist tax we believed we would need to pay on arrival following it coming into force a couple of months earlier.    We were now free to explore the island and get familiar with our new surroundings.

We hired a car with Peter and Rachel from Tokimata and spent a couple of days exploring the south and then the north of the island, snorkelling from recommended beaches, bird watching, driving the unsealed, potholed roads in the National Park and befriending large iguanas who circled around us looking up at us expectantly!    Peter and Rachel were on a tight deadline so left Bonaire after a few days and just before the first of the nasty weather started!    As Bonaire is a protected area, anchoring is forbidden so picking up a mooring buoy in the shallow waters of Kralendijk (the main town) is the only option, apart from taking a marina berth.   For 95% of the time, this is fine, as the prevailing winds blow from the east giving great protection on the buoys on the west side of the island.   The problem comes when the wind blows from the west, known locally as a “Reversal” and suddenly the shallow protective mooring field becomes a messy, dangerous place with boats bouncing on buoys very close to the sea wall with an on-shore wind.   This happened three times while we were in Bonaire, not including another night which was very uncomfortable as Tropical Storm Julia formed overhead!   During one of these Reversals one boat ended up on the rocks after breaking their mooring lines but amazingly it was not badly damaged and we watched it being refloated the next day.

My sister, Judy flew out to join us on board for a very special week of exploring together.   We snorkelled some great spots together, but none were as good as the fabulous coral and fish on Klein Bonaire where we felt we were flying above a forest of brightly coloured trees.   The purple fan coral gently waved in the clear water while the incredible rounded shape of the giant brain coral mesmorised us as our eyes tried to follow the maze of the large head structure.   Large brightly coloured fish guided us through shallow water as we sometimes had to suck in our stomachs to avoid touching the coral that was just below the surface.   Beautiful angelfish, parrotfish, large schools of tang and goatfish swam amongst the underwater garden with a loggerhead turtle silhouetted against the darker blue of the deeper water as we swam over the coral shelf.   It was an experience I am so happy I shared with Judy as we both emerged from the water with big eyes and huge smiles!

Our mooring buoy was next to a dive school and on the edge of a coral wall so we were treated to an array of sea creatures every day.  We had an octopus visit us one evening, alerted to it by our neighbours on Beez Neez, and we watched it change colour as it moved from coral head to sandy seabed in search of food.  A small spotted stingray flew past us with a long tail and a large tarpon took shelter against Beez Neez keel.   Each day we swam and snorkelled around the boat to see what new visitors we had amongst the brightly coloured fish that hovered under and around us.

Judy left after a week and our friends on ZenAgain joined us after an equally good sail from Grenada.   We discovered other snorkel sites with Mike and Nicki, using a truck that was made available for cruisers to hire, to try out 1000 steps and CandyLand – both excellent snorkel spots.   We then headed to Salt Pier and swam with a couple of feeding turtles in the shallow water before experiencing the underwater beauty of an above ground ugly structure, as brightly coloured coral grew from the foundations of the pier.

Our last few days in Bonaire coincided with a sailing regatta which included lots of on land festivities.  Streets were closed, large stages erected, and food stalls lined the main street.   People came in large power boats from neighbouring Curacao and the town came alive with children and young families.   Together with ZenAgain and Cushla, we enjoyed some of the music and festivities as we bade a long farewell to Bonaire.   The day before we were due to leave, we took Cerulean over to Klein Bonaire for a final snorkel, inviting Mike and Nicki to join us.   As we approached the mooring buoy on Klein the wheel jammed and would only allow me to turn to the left.   Fortunately we were close to the buoy and Steve was able to secure us on the mooring before we started investigating the problem.   We discovered a partly shredded bearing casing was catching in the steering mechanism and once cleared we once again had full movement of the wheel.   There had been no early indication of the bearing failing – no scraping, friction or catching, so it was a little disconcerting that our steering could be so silently affected!   Fortunately it did not happen while at sea and we were able to resolve the problem, all be it temporarily.   

We decided to continue with our plans to leave Bonaire for Curacao where we felt we would be able to find a solution and get the parts we needed to make the repairs before heading off on a longer passage.   The sail to Curacao was only around 30NM and with a good breeze forecast we bade farewell to beautiful Bonaire, our home for the last month, with its clear blue waters, incredible reefs, colourful fish and good friends.   We set our course west, just as angry clouds were forming on the horizon ahead of us.

The long goodbye

There are times when you know you are in the right place doing the right thing. When you feel a sense of calm come over you; when you feel the gentle embrace of friendship; the slow rhythm of life creating new routines and the sudden realisation that having a day off without feeling guilt is ok!

Our lives soon became a comfortable routine of happy moments and experiences. Our friends on Take Five had finally caught up after last seeing them in The Canaries when they left ahead of us to cross The Atlantic with my sister Bea and brother-in-law, Andy, on board. They anchored next to us in the busy bay which was now a happy community of old and new friends. Together we organised for a group of 20 to go to Carnival together, the first Carnival, or Spicemas, which has been held since 2019 due to Covid, so the island was ready to party.

Carnival is a two day public holiday which starts on the Monday at dawn with J’Ouvert where people dress as devils called Jabs-Jabs, wearing black horned helmets, chains and covered in black oil. Spectators are also covered in oil with back handprints and pale background seemingly being the ultimate prize for the horned Jabs-Jabs’. Monday night Mass is a parade of bands with colourful costumes and feature the Short Knee bands who carry talcum powder as a symbol of appreciation and sprinkle it on those who make a cash donation. Sadly the Festival was lacking a good Event Manager and nothing ran to time, with the Monday Mass starting 4hrs late – too late for most cruisers, so we missed the main part of the show. Carnival Tuesday is known as The Last Lap and dancers gyrate through the streets in bright, skimpy costumes following trucks, each with their own DJ or band playing music with the bass so loud it reverberated through our bodies as they passed us by. The atmosphere was friendly, happy and inclusive even though a lot of the symbolic costumes and actions referenced the days of slavery and the hatred of the white landowners.

With the date of our departure for Bonaire constantly being pushed back while we waited for news on whether our friends on Ilanda had received their new, larger outboard motor so we could buy their current one from them, we decided to take an introductory SCUBA dive. I am not confident under the water and didn’t want to commit to doing my PADI openwater certificate if I didn’t enjoy it. Steve and I were the only students on the day and we were well looked after as we practiced breathing under water and learning how to manage the heavy equipment. I loved it and felt very relaxed in the shallow warm waters at Lance Aux Epines Beach in Prickly Bay. Steve was, surprisingly, not quite as comfortable under the water but we both agreed it was something we wanted to take further once we arrive in Bonaire.

We were keen to see more of the island so, together with four other friends – Zen Again and Take Five – we hired a local guide who had come highly recommended, and spent a day touring the island. We had already been to some of the sights, but were keen to see others so suggested an itinerary which, Cutty, our guide, tweaked slightly before we left for a full day of adventure.

One of the many things we wanted to do before leaving Grenada was to see monkeys in the wild. Only a few of Caribbean islands have monkeys as they are not native to the area, having been brought here from Western Africa on slave ships in the 1700’s. The mona monkey is found in the interior of the island where the rain forest is thick and food plentiful, however sometimes they do come out of the interior and steal fruit crops, upsetting farmers and locals. For this reason, there is a hunting season and locals are allowed to eat their meat for a few months of the year. Cutty was a monkey whisperer and charmed a few cheeky monkeys out of the trees for us, encouraging them to land on our shoulders and heads as he used bananas as a reward! Their soft padded feet gently moved up my arms and they happily jumped from one person to the next, coaxed by the fruit that, when given to them, they ran back into the trees to savour the prized banana, storing it in their cheeks like hamsters, for them to enjoy later!

Our day included a swim in a refreshing pond under one of the Seven Sisters Waterfalls, a visit to a disused airfield where the PM’s old private plane lays decaying beside an old Cuban Airways passenger plane, both unused since the 70’s and now slowly rotting away in a field now used as a children’s playing ground! Cutty delighted in telling us about the wonderful medicinal qualities of the many native plants on the island as well as showing us how Cinnamon is harvested, explained about how nutmeg was the islands major export crop until the devastating hurricane 15 years ago destroyed 80% of the trees, and picked us a cacoa pod so we could suck on the sweet flesh that surrounds the cocoa bean. He took us to the islands oldest rum distillery which still uses a waterwheel to crush the sugarcane, although not open to the public, Cutty had a key and took us on a private tour explaining each step of the process.

It was a lovely day spent with good friends and a fabulous, informative guide. We travelled the length and width of the island, learning about the spices, politics and economy of this beautiful place we have been lucky enough to call home for about three months.

Our time in Grenada was coming to an end. The height of the hurricane season was now upon us and each morning we would study the weather forecast and what tropical waves may be starting to form in the Atlantic. Our insurance would not cover us for any named storms so we had to be ready to sail out of the path of any hurricane as soon as one looked like it was heading towards Grenada. It was time to start heading west, away from the hurricane belt and start exploring new waters.

Steve went up the mast to check the rigging, a task we do each time we are preparing for a long passage. He noticed a crack in one of the tangs that attach the stays to the mast – these are very important as a failure in heavy weather could result in losing the mast. We needed to get it fixed and quickly if we were to keep to our planned departure day in a weeks time. Luckily the local riggers had four of the exact fittings in stock and our friends on Escapade had an industrial rivet gun they lent us, so armed with a little bit of knowledge, some confidence and lots of hope, Steve was hoisted up the mast to replace four of the six tangs. It took two days to complete the task under the hot sun and rolling anchorage of Benji Bay with Steve spending hours up the mast pushing and straining as he rivetted the tangs in place and while I sent bags up the mast of needed tools and supplies. It was huge achievement getting them all replaced and the rigging re-secured.

It was time to farewell our friends and leave the country that had won our hearts and given us such wonderful memories.   As we prepared to leave the green hilly shores of Grenada I reflected on why this small, fertile island had won our hearts so much and what lasting impressions we would take away with us.  It is the small colourful houses perched on hillsides sitting on long poles that don’t look strong enough to support the house; the lush rain forest that dominates every view; the public buses blaring loud rap music as they career along narrow bumpy roads where it is best not to look as the driver weaves through obstacles and overtakes on blind corners; it is the hairstyles of the women which are really more like works of art; it is the huge smiles on the faces of the children and men (women don’t tend to be as cheerful!); it is the warm, calm waters that we would swim in every day; it is the amazing varieties of fruit that roadside sellers try to tempt you into buying from them; it is the roadside rumshacks that come alive in the evenings as neighbours come together and catch up on the days events; and it is the fabulous group of people we were fortunate enough to call friends and spend special times with as we all sheltered from the threat of hurricanes in these idyllic waters.    How lucky are we to have spent three months on this beautiful island?    But, as the sun rose on Sunday 4 September, we finished off the final preparations to leave and slipped out of Benji Bay with horns blasting from Take Five and several friends coming to wave us goodbye.  The excitement of what lay ahead was tinged with sadness as we slowly headed out into the blue Caribbean sea that lay beyond the protective reef.   Our course was set for the west, to Bonaire and the new adventures and friendships that lay ahead.

Home from Home

Going home was something we had both looked forward to with growing anticipation. We missed our family and friends after a two and a half year absence and were looking forward to hugging our family, spending time with our friends and drinking lots of good coffee!

Although the excitement was building, the thought of spending two days travelling back to Auckland was far less appealing and I tried to suppress the growing sense of dread as the days became hours and the time of our departure arrived. As we flew over Benji Bay, I could have sworn I saw King Richard on the deck of the cottage, sipping a can of beer as he enjoyed a few days of peace and quiet on his own in our slice of paradise!

The flight was as awful as we had imagined it to be, missing our connecting flight to LA from Miami due to long delays at immigration, and having to spend an uncomfortable night trying to sleep on the floor in the airport while our pre-paid Air B&B in LA remained unused and unrefundable! However, the thought of the warm welcome that awaited us in NZ kept our spirits high.

We arrived in Auckland ahead of schedule and were first through the doors into the arrivals hall, surprising my daughter and Steve’s mum, with our speedy passage through immigration and customs. It felt so good to give and receive warm embraces to Rebecca and Joy and the memories of the flight slowly faded as the realisation sunk in that we were really back home with our loved ones.

Our time in New Zealand was spent catching up with family and friends – every day it seemed we were with different people, making the most of our time with our children and family. We travelled from Auckland to Christchurch, where I screamed with delight as my son, Jak, surprised us at the airport, confusing and alarming the crowd of people at the luggage belt! I loved being back in Lyttelton, staying with my wonderful, generous and beautiful family – Erin and Dave – and catching up with so many friends. While there I gave a talk to about 60 people at the Little Ships Club about our travels to date and was really surprised and happy to see so many old friends attending. Bex travelled from Wellington and we had one glorious evening with both my children with me for the first time in so long. After a few blissful days relaxing with Jak and Ju in French Farm – the location of ours and Jak and Ju’s weddings and the beautiful second home of Dave and Erin’s – we continued on to Wellington where both Bex and Steve’s son, David, live. The saying, “you can’t beat Wellington on a good day”, is so true and we were lucky enough to have several days of clear skies and bright sunshine. It was wonderful and comforting to see how settled both Bex and David were and once again, will treasure the time spent with them both.

Back in Auckland we mostly focused on Steve’s family and spent time with all his siblings, children and grandchildren. It meant so much to us that everyone took time out of their busy lives to create special memories with us – we will live off those memories for the next couple of years and beyond!

All too soon, it was time to pack our bags and prepare for the long journey back to Grenada and the growing list of boat jobs ahead of us! We were staying with my cousin, Brent, in his beautiful home when Brent and Sandy both came down with Covid, so we sadly had to keep ourselves away from them and only communicate at a distance with a staircase between us! We were returning with more luggage than we had brought, weighing ourselves down with much needed new clothes and boat gear that was cheaper and more accessible in NZ than Grenada.

Although very long, the return flight was not quite as painful as the outward journey, with no stressful tight connections to worry about. We arrived back in Grenada about 40 minutes late and sped through immigration and customs before being spat out into the hot humid temperatures of the Caribbean where Sue, our landlady, met us in her beat up old truck. She drove us down the rutted, washed out road leading to the apartment we had rented from her for the next week. It was a welcome relief to experience the cool air conditioned rooms as we looked out over Benji Bay and spotted the familiar boat of our friends Kim and Ann, moored just off the private jetty below our apartment. Benji Bay was now full of yachts spending the hurricane season sheltering in the protective paradise of Grenada. As we looked across the bay and watched the sunset and the colours in the sky change from blue to pink, red and orange, we felt like we were home.

That night we slept really well and the next morning Nathan, our Australian friend and neighbour who was doing up his boat in the same yard, gave us a ride so we could start working on Cerulean. The batteries were dead as the solar panels had not kept up with the draw of the dehumidifier, but apart from that, everything seemed in order. We worked hard for three weeks, moving back onto the boat a week after our return, draping the hatches, opening windows and companionway with mosquito netting to try and keep any of the numerous bitey things out of our living space. At night the swarms of mosquitos and no-see-ems became particularly bad and, when mixed with the heat, it became almost unbearable as we scratched, swatted and fanned ourselves throughout the evenings!

Our beautiful new stainless steel watertank was hoisted into place and then hidden under the seating as we carefully re-installed the furniture, solving the krypton-factor-ish puzzle as we tried to remember how everything had come apart, and reversing it!!! It was a huge relief when finally, everything slotted into place and we were able to restore the cushions on the seats and have our comfortable saloon back together! It’s funny how a small amount of furniture can make the space a home again.

Our time out of the water was sociable as we celebrated success and met fellow boatyard dwellers! Each evening we made good use of the endless supply of water and enjoyed long showers as we scrubbed off the days dirt, sweat and smells! One night we were woken to the sound of torrential rain, quickly shutting all the open hatches and returning to our stifling hot bed as we listened to the storm gathering outside. The wind whipped round the boats, shaking us in the cradle and we lay there, relieved we didn’t have to worry about anchors dragging but still concerned about things hitting us! It was later announced that this sudden storm was actually classified as a grade 1 hurricane with winds reaching over 80mph. It was slightly disconcerting how quickly the system developed with no prior warning as it was apparently an extremely difficult event to predict – the perfect storm of conditions, I guess!

The day of our launch arrived and we were ready. We had a new watertank installed which we had successfully tested for two weeks with no sign of leaks; a new water guage so we can easily see how much water we have in the tanks; new antifoul (although we did have a colour disaster with the blue stripe and had to changed it to black at the last minute), propeller serviced, small leaks found and remedied, boat polished and cleaned, sails serviced and repaired, chaps made for our new dinghy (donated to us by Kim and Ann and named KAM), repairs made to our sprayhood which were more preventative than anything, shower sealed, generator exhaust repaired and all through hull seacocks serviced. We felt ready and eager to get back on the water. The yard had let us know we would launch at 2pm, so I decided I would jump on a free bus to town and renew our cruising permit (which from this point forward is known as a cursing permit). As I was waiting for the bus, I got talking to a South African man named Bert and we shared sailing stories as we pondered whether the bus was going to come. No sooner had this been vocalised when a man pulled up beside us in his rental car and offered us a ride. Unsure where he was going, and feeling a pang of guilt that I’d already told Patrick, the bus driver, that I wanted a ride, I turned down the offer. We continued to wait until, eventually Patrick’s bus slowly approached the yard. As we hopped in, joining a couple who had already been collected from another marina, Patrick informed us that he had a problem with the bus and proceeded to lift the front seat to expose the engine which was obviously overheating but when Patrick removed the radiator cap, a great puff of steam rose up into the already hot bus! I voiced concern and questioned out loud whether this was a good idea to head to town when we would be launching in a few hours time. Patrick assured me it would all be fine and, sure enough, it did not take long for us to be on our way again, hurtling down the narrow, winding roads in true Grenadan style! Our next stop was Whisper Cove Marina, a small settlement not far from the apartment we had rented when we first returned to Grenada. At this point Patrick announced his bus was too sick to continue but he had called a friend who would drive us into town. As we stood waiting the couple on the bus decided to head into the cafe for a drink and we were joined by a Canadian husband and wife as we passed the time talking and laughing, while inside I was starting to get concerned about the amount of time left for me to get the permit and return to the boat. The replacement bus and young driver arrived and the four of us piled in to the the hot van and waited for the missing couple as we tried to extract them from the cafe! Bert, knowing my time constraints, had some stern words to say to them as we eventually sped away. The driver was even more frightening than Patrick and I couldn’t watch as he overtook on blind bends and beeped at any car infront of us who would not get out of his way. It was when we slowly drew to a halt on the side of the road, that I realised we had broken down again and Bert lent forward and said to me – “Remember that guy who offered you a lift? It was a sign and you should’ve taken it…..!” Not helpful! A few minutes later we were on our way again, catching up with all the traffic we had earlier overtaken as we sped down the road that the driver seemed to think was a formula one race track.

We arrived at the chandlery and, as the driver was paid based on the number of passengers he brought to the shop, I went inside after telling him I would not be returning on the bus! Bert followed me in and told me to return to the chandlery when I’d got my permit and we would share the cost of a taxi back to the boatyard as he didn’t rate his chances of getting back alive on the bus. With that I started to run the 1.5km in stifling heat and jandels to the customs/immigration office in Port St Louis. As I turned into the approach road a young guy in a golf buggy must’ve taken pity on the disheveled looking woman who ran like a seal out of water, and offered me a lift to the marina entrance. I hopped in, grateful for the chance to catch my breath and cool down in the shade of the covered buggy. Finally I was at the customs/immigration office and a small queue greeted me, followed by a man telling me the officer had left 10 minutes ago and had not been seen since…..! It was now 11.30 and we were due to launch in 2.5hrs and I still had to find a taxi, pick up Bert and get back to Clarkes Court. At this point I was about to leave and admit defeat when the officer slowly ambled back towards the office, unlocked the door and invited the first person in the queue inside. While I waited two other men joined the queue, with one recognising me as being from the boat in front of his in Clarkes Court. I cheekily asked if he was driving back there and he offered to drop me at the end of the very rutted lane that leads to the boatyard. I explained that I was meeting Bert and he said “no problem, we’ll go find him”. Relief!!! The permit only took five minutes to sort and we continued to talk while my new driver (Shayden) waited for his friend, a large Russian man named Igor, sorted his permit. By the time we reached the car, we were old friends and with the air con pumping, we headed back down the approach road to find Bert. Bert, in the meantime, had run several errands and was making his way to Port Louis so it was with surprise that I saw him walking towards us. I’m not sure who was more surprised when I threw the passenger door open as the car was still moving forward and yelled at Bert to jump in, which he deftly did and bounced in beside me as the car continued moving, not missing a beat! We all chatted on the way back until we got to the turn off and Shayden decided to continue down the road all the way to the boatyard, dropping us outside Cerulean to a somewhat bemused and confused Steve! It was an adventure but we now had our cruising permit and, after a short delay in our launch, we were afloat just 2.5hrs later on our way to find a quiet anchorage. As we left the slipway, Steve announced how surprised he was at the joy he felt being back on the water and that was music to my ears as we dropped the anchor just off Benji Bay, surrounded by boats belonging to friends. The wind was cool, the mozzies non-existent and we breathed a huge sigh of relief as we headed out in the dinghy to have a rum with friends to celebrate being back on the water!

King of the SVG’s

Every boat needs a person that knows the engine, electrics and mechanics back-to-front and inside out.   Often this is the owner and, of course, this is the preferred and best scenario but it is rare to find someone who is a jack of all trades and can fix almost anything that breaks or needs attention.   We don’t have those skills, but we know someone that does……!    While we were in Cornwall getting work done in 2020/21 we were lucky enough to meet Richard who we initially employed to do some electrical work but soon discovered he had so many other valuable skills.    Since then he has worked with us to resolve countless problems or answer questions which have arisen in the last 12 months of cruising.   Richard is most definitely the third member of our crew, so when we were given an eyewatering quote to replace the worn out aquadrive thrust bearing, we checked on the cost of flights from the UK and asked Richard if he fancied an all expenses paid holiday to the Caribbean!    He accepted and we were delighted.

I collected Richard from the airport on a warm muggy evening and we celebrated his arrival with drinks on the deck as Richard slowly acclimatised himself to the heat and surroundings, losing no time to point out a few jobs that needed fixing!   Next morning work started on removing the worn out part and replacing it with a brand new, 30yr old one that Richard had collected for us from an auction we had won on eBay!    Steve and Richard worked tirelessly for three days – pulling, cutting, levering and pushing until, suddenly and amazingly, the shaft moved into place and the new bracket was installed.  A quick test showed the whole procedure had been a huge success and the engine was now purring again with the propeller shaft sounding quieter than we have ever heard it.  

Leatherback turtles nest on the northern beaches of Grenada.  The only time they come to shore is when the 15yr old female comes to shore, scrambles up the beach, digs a big hole, lays a batch of eggs and then buries them carefully in the sand before heading back to sea.   I was given the opportunity to join a small team of other sailors and marine biologists, to watch these magnificent creatures lay their eggs.   Once the large female had found her way up the beach, we were quietly ushered a short distance from this large creature as she used her back flippers to dig a deep hole.  Sand flew all around us as she put an enormous amount of effort into digging deeper and deeper.   When she was satisfied the hole was sufficiently deep enough, she started laying eggs.   She began by laying small unfertilised eggs which lined the bottom of the hole and provided a soft cushion for the fertilised eggs to fall on.    She then laid 115 fertilised eggs, mixed with unfertilised ones which will protect the turtles as they grow in the sand.   As she laid the eggs, the turtle goes into a trance and the scientists took this opportunity to measure the female and we were given the chance to touch her leathery shell.   It was an amazing experience to be so close to this magnificent creature as she put so much effort into laying her eggs, her eyes were full of tears as she groaned and gently moved her head side to side.   The egg laying process took about 20 minutes and then the great effort started in covering the eggs to protect them from predators and compacting the sand which she took a huge effort to ensure her tracks were covered and there were no visible signs of a nest.   The baby turtles will hatch in 6-8 weeks and I hope to be able to watch them as they emerge from the sand and make their dangerous run to the sea.   We watched her while she slowly edged towards the sea and allowed the waters to flood over her and a wave carry her back out to sea.

With the engine fixed, we set out on a sea trial by motor sailing 40 miles to Carriacou and checked out of Grenada after catching up with Zen Again for a quick meal ashore as our paths crossed again with us heading north and Mike & Nicki heading south to Grenada. 

We had sailed past and through St Vincent and the Grenadines (SVG) a couple of times, and now it was time to explore these much anticipated islands with Richard.   We had a lovely sail to Bequia, a small island only 5 miles long and one of only three places in the SVG’s you are able to check-in/out of the country.   Bequia was the only place we could check in and provide our own RAT’s kit, saving us US$50 each so we felt it was worth the journey to save that much!   We had completed all the on-line check-in requirements and had heard that a friend had managed to check-in without using an agent recently, so decided to attempt that too.   We made our way to the hospital with our test kits and a lovely nurse pushed the long testing stick up each of our noses.   We then waited outside, nervously anticipating the results.   While we waited a man came to see us and told us we would need to go to the agents office to complete our check-in procedure.   We tried to establish why we would need to do this, when we had done the testing and would still need to go to immigration and customs to complete the process.   The nurse re-appeared and gave us some good news, followed by bad…..we were all negative but the results with the required piece of paper, had been sent to the agents office.   We asked if we could have the record showing we had tested negative without going through the costly agent and were told this was not possible.   She was genuinely surprised when we told her that the agent wanted to charge us EC120 to issue the paper we needed to complete check-in.   Seeing no other way around it, we made our way to the agents, paid the fee and returned to immigration and customs to get the necessary stamps in our passports and cruising permits.  

Our friends on Puff had arrived in the same anchorage a few hours after us.   Keen to see some of the island, I joined Kris and Ingrid for a walk from Port Elizabeth, where we were anchored, across the island to Friendship Bay in the south.  It was a lovely walk/scramble at times losing the track and retracing our steps as we pushed back branches and thorny plants!    Our walk started and finished on the lovely white sands of Princess Margaret Bay, named to honour the Princess who visited Bequia in the 1950’s during one of her regular stays at her island home on neighbouring Mustique.   Bequia (pronounced Bec-way) is a beautiful island with a lovely Caribbean charm to it, gorgeous beaches, lovely homes and clear, blue seas.    We hope to return there before leaving Grenada and explore a little more.

After a few days, it was time to move on as we wanted to make sure we had sufficient time to explore other islands.   The wind was perfect for a good sail to Tobago Cays, a group of uninhabited islands in a National Park.   We wove our way through the reefs that border the main island and were guided into the bay by a local “boat man” where we carefully dropped our anchor into sand, avoiding the sea grass that provides food for the many turtles that breed in the waters.    We lost no time jumping into the dinghy and heading to a spot slightly out of the fast current that flows through the anchorage.   We soon saw a turtle lazily grazing of the seabed, occasionally coming to the surface before taking a breath and swimming back down to continue eating.   It is so wonderful to watch these creatures swimming underwater – something I can never tire of.

Over the next few days we snorkelled every day, exploring the many reefs that surround the Cays.   The coral was beautiful – there was some bleaching but certainly the best coral we have seen yet in the Caribbean.   The fish life was spectacular and we saw eels, squid, eagle rays and so many colourful fish it felt like we were in an aquarium.   In addition the number of turtles we saw was wonderful, often with three or four swimming close to us at one time.   On one day we were heading back to the dinghy having returned from a short walk when we noticed a couple of Lemon shark in the shallow waters just off the beach.   It was fascinating to explore these rich waters which are full of life and beautiful blue, clear waters.

We were due to be hauled out in less than a week, so it was time to return to Grenada after enjoying a couple of weeks creating happy memories with King Richard in the tropical surrounds of the SVG’s.   We felt we didn’t do the islands justice and hope to be able to return to them in a few months, if the weather allows us.

We had a very short sail to Union Island so we could check out of The Grenadines, sailing in the company of our friends, Kim and Ann on Ilanda.   Checking out was quick and easy, completing the process within 30 minutes so we could return to the boat and continue our sail south to Carriacou where we checked back into Grenada.    That night we had a lovely evening with Kim and Ann and Mark, the owner of a lovely Rustler yacht anchored next to us, and we watched the most wonderful sunset with the evening colours slowly intensifying until the grand finale was on display before us.

The next morning we set sail with Ilanda and headed south.  Once again we had a great sail between Carriacou and the top of Grenada but once we started heading more west the seas became sloppy and the sails starting flogging and our pace slowed considerably.   Ilanda turned into Woburn and we continued to Prickly Bay where we would prepare for our haul out.   Over the next few days we made use of Richards expertise and fixed a number of niggling issues on the boat as well as prepared for the major work we were doing once we were hauled out.    Each day we once again marvelled at Richards knowledge and our good fortune at meeting him and now having him as a friend. 

We were due to be hauled out on the Tuesday morning and moved to Woburn the night before we were lifted, anchoring close to the boat yard.   At 8am I called the yard to get instructions and they told us we were supposed to be there now as we were booked for haul out at 8am!    We quickly raised the anchor and motored to the slipway, just as a large squall and heavy rainfall arrived.   After a brief delay waiting for the rain and wind to pass, we were very professionally guided into the slipway and gently lifted, washed, placed into a cradle and secured for the next three months.   We were due to fly out for NZ in five days and in that time needed to dismantle the saloon and remove the old leaking water tank.  Again, under Richards guidance, we set about moving the furniture and exposing the stainless steel water tank.  We could now see more of the tank than we had ever seen before which looked in good condition.   We started to question whether we had imagined the leak, until we filled the tank and water soon came pouring into the bilge.   When the tank was removed we could see it had blown out, causing some weak points to leak and there were several areas at the back of the tank where the water was escaping.   Our decision to replace the tank was a good one, but expensive!  

The boat was now prepared for our one month away and ready for us to continue working on her when we return.   The weather was hot but noticeably wetter and we had moved off the boat into an apartment which had a pool and pontoon with beautiful garden.   We had a large mango tree beside our deck which dropped fruit on our neighbours roof each night.   Tiny tree frogs started calling as the sun went down until the noise was quite deafening. 

And now it’s time to leave for NZ.   We will leave Richard to enjoy the apartment on his own for a few days while we head to Florida and then LA.    He is finding things to repair in the apartment, now he’s completed so many of the jobs we had lined up for him on our boat.   He is also being invited on board a new friend’s boat to give advice on some of their issues – his fun never stops!  

On our last night we met up with a group of old and new friends before we all go our separate ways, not knowing when/if we will sail in the same waters again – Walkabout, Zen Again, Ilanda, Ari and Favorita.   As my mum used to quote – “Parting is such sweet sorrow” and, sadly, with the lifestyle we have, we get used to goodbyes but it certainly doesn’t make them any easier.   The boat is a mess, with everything piled up in the main saloon, ready for when we return and can complete the rest of the jobs that remain un-Richard-ed but with clear instructions on how we can complete them!     We will miss having King Richard around, both for his slightly whacky sense of humour, but also for his incredible expertise….. in everything!    Our hearts are now being pulled home into the arms of our families who we are so excited to see again after 27 months apart

Martinique – France in the Caribbean

We left Dominica at 3pm in the company of Zen Again, headed for Fort De France in Martinique, approximately 80NM away.   We were hoping for a good overnight passage to the next in a long chain of beautiful countries – all having their own individual identity – that form the Windward Islands.   We were attempting to sail the next 80 miles without the use of our engine again, which had been diagnosed as needing urgent attention – attention we intended giving it when we managed to hobble back to Grenada. 

We were well aware that the high hills of Dominica would cause a wind shadow but we hoped we would be able to pass through it relatively quickly.     With Zen Again hot on our heels we made good speed leaving Portsmouth harbour and felt encouraged as we rounded the headland and started heading south on a nice reach.   Sadly it did not take the wind long to completely disappear, and with it Zen Again turned on their engines and vanished from sight as we once again found ourselves frustratingly going nowhere except occasionally backwards as the strong current threatened to sweep us back to Portsmouth!    We must have drifted for over an hour, searching for any sign of wind on the flat water.    Eventually, the wind arrived and we were able to make steady progress again, relieved we were now at least moving in the right direction!

We made good speed over night and travelled down the west coast of Martinique as the sun came up but as the sky grew lighter, so did the wind and, once again we were becalmed and swept back north as we lolled around with flapping sails and no steerage for, what seemed like, hours with only 9NM to reach our destination.     When the wind did arrive we quietly and sulkily tacked up the wide harbour to the capital, Fort de France.  It had taken 20hrs for us to sail 80NM and neither of us enjoyed the journey and were in low spirits as we headed towards our final destination!     As we arrived at the entrance to the crowded anchorage a large group of kayakers appeared in front of us, obviously confident we would avoid them as no one made any attempt to change direction.   If we’d had an engine, it would not have been a problem, but we were now in a buoyed channel with limited options but to go where the wind blew us.   Fortunately two of the front kayakers were much stronger paddlers than the rest of the group and we were able to divide the pack by cutting through the gap the leaders had created!  The rest of the kayakers looked at us with bemused frustration as we slowly continued towards the harbour.

The anchorage was busy so we pushed as close as we could to the shore to try and get as much protection as possible from wind and swell before dropping the anchor, relieved we had completed another leg of our engine-less passage south.

Fort de France is by far the largest and most cosmopolitan city we have been to since leaving Europe.   It has high rises, a modern transport system, busy roads and lots of people!  The French influence is very apparent with a large population of white Europeans making Martinique home due to France’s “open border” immigration system for anyone with a French passport.   It also has a strong history connected to France as Martinique was the home of Josephine Bonaparte who was raised on a sugar plantation here.

We met Zen Again and checked in using a computer in a nearby chandlery – very quick, easy and cheap – celebrating at a nearby café which served good coffee and a great selection of pastries.   Over the next week, the café became a regular haunt and we availed ourselves of their sweet treats, hot water and clean toilets! 

It was now time to explore Martinique so we hired a car for a couple of days with Mike and Nicki from Zen Again, and headed north on the first day.   With me driving and Mike expertly navigating, reminding me to drive on the right when I mistakenly approached a roundabout the wrong way (it only happened once…!), we navigated the busy roads by frequently taking detours down narrow, and often steep, back streets.  We were headed to St Pierre in the north east of the island.   Mt Pelee provides a dramatic backdrop to the small town of St Pierre and is a constant reminder to the tragic events that happened in 1902 when the volcano erupted, killing almost the entire population of the town.   The only survivor was a prisoner who was in solitary confinement in a small, thick walled stone cell behind the theatre.    The town has been built around relics of that fateful day, with ruins of once grand buildings standing next to homes and shops.   We visited the excellent new Memorial de la catastrophe de 1902 which cleverly guided you through the vibrant city prior to the eruption using letters and diaries from some of those who did not survive.  

We continued our journey of the north by visiting the beautiful Depaz rum distillery which is set in the most beautiful location at the foot of Mt Pelee with spectacular views across sugar cane fields out to sea.   Established by Victor Depaz in 1917 after all his family were killed in the volcano 15 years earlier.   Victor had been a student in France when the volcano erupted and was devastated to learn of the death of his family.   He left France after deciding to start afresh in Canada, but the ship he was travelling on made an unscheduled stop in Martinique.   He decided to visit the site of his family home and business, where he still owned land that had once grown sugar cane.   Once he saw the place again, at the foot of the mountain that had taken his family, he decided to stay and established the distillery.   He built a large family home which was the replica of the house he had grown up in and where he brought up his 11 children.

We enjoyed an afternoon wandering around the distillery and finishing with a tasting of a few of the rums made on site.    It was a perfect way to spend an afternoon and appreciate the wonderful surroundings and countryside of Martinique.

On day two we headed south, visiting the Anse Cafford Slave Memorial which is a powerful sculpture of 15 hunched slaves looking out to the place where a ship full of slaves perished when the boat they were imprisoned in was shipwrecked after crossing the Atlantic.   I found the whole sculpture and environment very moving as the sculptures all stand shoulder to shoulder with eyes cast down and mouths open as if in a silent scream.   

We continued our journey south to Grande Anse beach and spent a lovely few hours snorkelling in clear water and over the best coral we had seen so far.   We swam with a very friendly, casual loggerhead turtle as it grazed on the seagrass and casually floated to the surface to take a breath before returning to graze on the seabed below me.   That, and the abundant colourful and different varieties of fish, was a fabulous experience and we all returned to the lovely beach exhilarated happy!

We continued our journey, making our last stop in the south at the Habitation Clement Park and Distillery.    The park contained a variety of sculptures set in beautiful gardens and we followed a pathway through the art installations to the distillery.   I’m so pleased we visited the Depaz Distillery the day before because the Clement Distillery tour and buildings offered something quite different but explained and showed the Rum making process so much better.    It was an excellent visit, topped off again by Rum tasting which was not limited to the two tasting glasses of the day before, and delivered by a handsome and charming guy who seemed to enjoy the friendly banter we had.  When I said I had to drive he was surprised and reminded me that I was now in Martinique so it didn’t matter……. That was enough to stop me trying any more and be extra cautious as we made our way back to Fort de France, stopping at the supermarket for a big provisioning shop on the way.

I was surprised how much I enjoyed our time in Martinique.   It was a social time, catching up with some lovely friends and enjoying the environment of a large town where it was easy to get around and stock up on much needed supplies.   Mike and Nicki on Zen Again left a few days before us, headed for St Lucia and let us know they had experienced strong current and less wind than forecast.   Not wanting to experience any more slow passages, spent going round in circles, we contemplated cutting through between Martinique and St Lucia and heading down the east coast of the islands.   This would mean that we would avoid the wind shadows caused by the high hills of St Lucia and St Vincent as we headed south to Grenada.    We chose to leave on a day that promised some north in the wind so we could start to head east, so as the sun came up, we hoisted the mainsail and sailed off the anchor making good speed as we headed out of the harbour.    Cerulean sailed beautifully with the perfect wind angle for her, on a broad reach, carrying two happy passengers as we made our way south towards Grenada where we would hopefully be connected with our new thrust bearing, purchased in the UK and get it fitted in the next week.     We had a fast and near perfect sail to Grenada, cutting through to the east side of the islands a little further south than planned, as the wind and current forced us to change our minds.   The benefit of that was a bonus dolphin experience where the largest pod of dolphins we have ever seen, worked together to round up fish.   We could not count the number of dolphins as the sea was just boiling with them – to the extend where, if we had wanted to, we could have walked across them as they swam in the warm waters!

We sailed down the east coast of Grenada, seeing a large leatherback turtle floating in the water off the north coast of the island.  We arrived in Prickly Bay at 1730, just in time for sundowners as we congratulated each other on a successful and enjoyable 23hr sail south, hopefully the last one without an engine.   The next day we caught a bus into St Georges and checked in at Port Louis Marina – a quick and easy procedure.   We then returned to the boat and prepared for the arrival of our friend and mentor, Richard, who was arriving from the UK the next day with the thrust bearing and knowledge of how to fit it!    We had recently increased Richards status to “Sir” but vowed that if he managed to fix the engine without us having to be hauled out, we would crown him King Richard!    Several very knowledgeable sailing friends had expressed surprise that Sir Richard thought he could replace the broken part while we were in the water so we nervously anticipated his arrival, already preparing a long list of other jobs we had identified needed addressing while he was with us for the next three weeks!

Dominica – boiling over with nature

The small, forest covered, nature island of Dominica had been on our “must-see” list for some time, so we were excited about being there and eager to start exploring some of the many walking tracks that criss-cross the island.   The anticipation was doubled with the knowledge that Ruffian had arrived a few days earlier and Iain had already promised one of his epic adventures to give us a taste of what the island offered.

Dominica was hit by Hurricane Maria in 2017 and over 85% of buildings were destroyed or damaged, displacing over 50,000 people of a population of less than 70,000.  Two thirds of the island is rainforest which cover the nine volcanoes, many hills and deep valleys that make up this beautiful island.   As there is no international airport, most of the visitors arrive by boat or small plane, so tourism is exclusive but important to Dominica.   The locals are proud, welcoming and friendly people who love their country and are keen to share their love of it with visitors, having worked hard to rebuild and recover from the devastation caused by Maria less than five years ago. 

As we arrived in the bay a couple of boats welcomed us with the men introducing themselves as working for PAYS (Portsmouth Assoc of Yacht Services).   PAYS own a number of mooring buoys which they encourage new arrivals to use until checked in.   This is not a requirement but is a forceful request, which we ignored and anchored close to the fishing wharf, explaining that we had engine issues.

We checked in to the country, using an agent as our research prior to arrival had led us to believe we were required to do this, at considerable expense.  The benefit of using an agent was the process was made incredibly easy with passports and papers collected from the boat, so all the paperwork was done in our absence while we were able to make Cerulean “Shipshape” again after the sail.   The downside of using an agent is it was expensive and, as it turned out, unnecessary.  

Together with Zen Again and Ruffian, we set out on our first adventure, feeling excited and guided by our enthusiastic leader, Iain.   The six of us went on the first of many adventures together, catching a minibus to a small settlement called Bense, on the north western side of the island, and then walked about 3km along a well marked track to Chaudiere Pools.   The last part to get to the pools was a scramble along big rocks where Iain and Steve lost no time stripping off and jumping into the clear, deep pools from high rocks above the inviting river.   The water was cool and refreshing as we all soaked off the heat of the day and enjoyed the seclusion under a canopy of trees while new sounds of unknown birdsong filled our ears.  Heading back was interesting as we discovered very few buses used the route, so we walked down to a “busy” main road to try our luck there.   As we walked down everyone we met greeted us with a cheerful “hello” and often engaged us in conversation.   The houses all have gardens and most grow their own vegetables and fruit with Papaya, mango and banana trees in most gardens.   Everything grows well in the fertile volcanic soil and we watched a couple planting their field with yams which will take seven months to grow before they are ready for harvesting.    The six of us sat on the roadside waiting for a bus to go past, but as the sun began sinking, so did our hope of being able to get back to our boats, which were 15km away on the other side of the island.   Just as we were giving up, a man pulled up in a minivan and, unsure whether he was a bus or a taxi, we jumped in with relief!  

On another day we went on a tour of the northern part of the island with Martin, a local guide who is a botanist and has a real love for his home and people.   He is also an OCC (Ocean Cruising Club) Port Officer, and as the six of us were all members of OCC it made Martin a perfect choice.   Martin expertly entertained, educated and guided us around the northern sights and villages.   We visited the cold Soufriere which is a strange phenomenon of a cold volcano – you can see the mud bubbling but it is cold.   We also visited a chocolate factory and had a tour of the process from plant to bar, purchasing a number of the delicious produce after tasting the many different flavours.   We ended the day at Red Rock, a lookout point with views over the Atlantic while standing on the natural sandstone ledge.  It was a lovely day spent in great company and we even swam in a river that Martin insisted would make us appear 10 years younger after our dip, but I’m still waiting for this to happen!

Our next day trip started with catching a bus to Roseau, the capital of Dominica, located in the south west of the island.   The bus took us along good tarmacked, twisty roads following the coastline as we headed south.   We passed through several villages, built along the roadside, or in valleys and surrounded by high hillsides and lush rainforest.   Roseau was a bustling but small capital with few buildings of architectural splendour, as most shops were small and scruffy and houses were often built by those who lived in them so were simple, small and generally basic with few frills.   We were again told there were not many buses to take us to where we wanted to be dropped off, so this time took the number of the driver who gave us a ride, just in case we had problems.   We were headed to Middleham Falls which was well worth the hike to reach them.   The sight and sound of the water falling 67m into the pools below was wonderful and the fact we were able to enjoy swimming in the cool waters on our own was a huge bonus.    Swimming in clear water in the middle of a rainforest is a fabulous experience and one we will never forget.

Our trip back to Roseau was interesting.  Just as we emerged onto the road a flatbed truck came by.   We noticed an elderly man climb in the back, having been told by the driver that the backseat was full of eggs.  We asked if we could also jump in, so the six of us joined the rather amused elderly man, and his sack of potatoes, in the open truck.   After five minutes another man hailed to the driver and also squeezed in beside us.  The trip was made all the more memorable as my daughter rang me just as I was climbing in the truck, with some distressing news and I attempted to hear and comfort her as the eight of us, and a sack of potatoes, clung to the side of the truck as we sped towards Roseau!

Fi and I took an early morning boat trip up the Indian River where Martin introduced us to numerous birds including a close encounter with a couple of hummingbirds which fluttered above us.  There are three breeds of hummingbird on Dominica – the Purple Throated Carib, the Antillean Crested and the Green Throated Carib.   All are beautifully coloured and showed off their fluorescent colours in the morning sun.   We were paddled slowly up the river into thick mangroves as Martin pointed out different trees and wildlife to us including a male Dominican anole lizard as it puffed out its yellow throat to attract a nearby female on a tree in the mangroves.    

We hired a car to explore other parts of the island that were not easily accessible by bus and spent a wonderful day walking to more waterfalls and watering holes, including Syndicate Falls, Jacko Falls and Secret Pool.  We were lucky enough to have all the beautiful locations completely to ourselves and swam at each place.  The walks to find the attractions was often steep but well worth the climb/scramble as we picked our way over rocks and down muddy banks.   The reward at the end was a cooling swim in clear pools with the sound of water cascading down from the high rocks above us.   We drove back along a very rough road through the Kalingaro Carib Village where most of the aboriginal people live.   It was interesting driving through their neighbourhood, which had quite a different feel to the other Dominican settlements, with the villagers out on the street, playing cricket in the middle of the road, only stopping to let us pass as we appeared to be the only vehicle passing through.  

A group of eight of us took on the biggest challenge on the island, a six hour demanding, guided hike to the Boiling Lake, a flooded fumarole.    I have to confess that the hike was really at the limit of my fitness abilities but I’m so happy I pushed myself to get there.   The view above the, literally, boiling lake in the middle of a National Park was incredible.   To get there we walked over sulphur crusted rocks where a hot stream cascaded down the hillside.  An attempt was made to cook eggs in the stream but once the shells turned black, they didn’t cook right through!   We walked through rain forest, scrambled over rocks, slid down steep hills, waded through mud and rock hopped over rivers.   The company and support from our group of friends was wonderful and, even though I managed to get blisters under two toe nails (how does that happen…?) I’m so glad I pushed myself to complete the challenge!    Steve rounded off the experience by swimming through Titou Gorge at the end of the walk – he loved it as he swam upstream in refreshing water, through a gorge to an underground waterfall.

Our final adventure was to the south, visiting Champagne Beach where we snorkelled in the clear water, swimming with a turtle for the first time.   The coral was better than we had seen anywhere else and the fish life was good.   Small bubbles of gas rise from the volcanic sea floor which was unusual and beautiful to swim through.  

Dominica turned out to be a gathering point for many friends we had met at different times during our travels.   We had a very social time catching up, sharing drinks and making new friends. Nicki, from Zen Again celebrated a special birthday and we enjoyed celebrating it with her at a local restaurant which served a huge amount of traditional food to us as we sat outside undercover to shelter from the occasional rain showers.   It all added to the lasting memories of this very special island which became our favourite destination in the Caribbean.    We felt we had experienced so much in our short stay, but the wind was telling us it was time to go and, when you have no usable engine, we needed to take advantage of the good conditions.   Ruffian had already left on their journey to Antigua and St Martins, and we left with Zen Again to continue our journey in the opposite direction, island hopping to Martinique, just 80NM to the south.    We left in the late afternoon for an overnight sail which we anticipated to be frustrating in parts but hoped we could avoid too many wind shadows caused by the tall mountains on both islands but we hadn’t anticipated the strong current we would encounter along the way!

Photo credit: Some photos provided by Ruffian

A sail too far. Limping to Guadeloupe

The outline of the many islands that make up the Virgin group took along time to fade into the distance.   Cerulean was moving through the water well, but we were not making great speed over the ground.   I like to continually play with the sails to make sure we are making the best speed possible, but could not seem to get Cerulean moving as fast as I expected.   Then, just as the sun was getting low in the sky, our forward, and largest jib, started flapping, confusing me for a second, before I realised it was falling down.   A shackle attaching the top/head of the jib to the furler swivel, had broken, leaving the swivel at the top of the mast and the sail in the water.    Steve and I rushed forward and, in fading light and bumpy seas, pulled the sodden sail back on board.   Fortunately, as we have two jibs, we were able to continue sailing with our smaller Staysail up while we worked out what to do next!    We stowed the big jib in the forward cabin until we had better conditions for Steve to go up the mast to retrieve the swivel and halyard.     Our speed slowed even more and we bounced along, going an average of 4knots with the wind turning more southerly, so causing us to head further south than we wanted.    At this rate we would end up in Trinidad, but we kept positive and hoped the wind would go more easterly, or northerly for a while so we could make up some ground before having to tack.

During the night we experienced a number of squalls with the winds suddenly increasing from 17knots to 30knots with very little warning in the darkness of the surrounding sea and sky.   The boat and hydrovane managed the sudden changes in wind strength beautifully and, with full main and just the staysail out, we continued making steady progress towards the Eastern islands we had sailed past so quickly a couple of months earlier on our way to Antigua.   It soon became clear that what we thought was going to be, at most, a two day sail, was going to turn into a three day one as we were heading further south than we wanted and the winds dropped, making our progress painfully slow as the strong Westerly current was pushing us back another 2knots.   We decided to turn on the engine and, as the seas had flattened out considerably, Steve ventured up the mast so we could hoist the yankee again.    We had been experiencing a worrying noise coming from the prop shaft when the engine was in gear and recently this noise had become much louder.   While in St Martins, with the help of Mike from Zen Again, we traced the cause of the grating noise and had been nursing the offending part, hoping we could make it back to Grenada so we could fix the problem when we had the boat out of the water in a couple of months.    Steve had already started researching the required parts so in the meantime, we were trying to limit the use of the engine and keeping the revs down to as low as possible when we had to use the iron sail!

As we turned on the engine, we could hear that things were getting worse and the increase in noise was only matched by our growing concern as we were forced to turn off the engine and sit in no wind as we drifted further away from our preferred destination.    Fortunately we could see rain clouds ahead, and with the rain came squalls again, which turned out to be our friend, as we followed the clouds for a while and our speed increased.   At 3am on the third night, we were about 20NM off the coast of Montserrat when we tacked again, hoping the wind would back to the north, as forecast, so we could head straight for Guadeloupe.   As we progressed further south, our wishes were granted and the green hills of Guadeloupe were a welcoming sight as we gathered speed, heading towards the middle of the island.   Due to the high mountains, there is often a wind shadow to the west of the island and, when we were about 5NM away, the wind died completely.    We reluctantly turned on the engine, keeping the revs very low, and tried calling our friends, Mike and Nicki, on Zen Again, (who were already in Guadeloupe) on the off-chance they could a) hear us and b) have their radio on.    We were in luck and it was wonderful to hear Mike’s voice, directing us to their anchorage in Bouillante.  We later discovered they had only just turned on their radio after seeing us approaching on AIS. 

Bouillante is a small village with palm trees along the waterfront, nestled under high, tree covered hills.   A thermal power station in the south of the bay, provides a constant plume of steam and, with it, a faint smell of sulphur as warm thermal waters pour out into the anchorage, much to the enjoyment of locals who crowd the small bay at the weekend to enjoy a hot bathe in the already warm sea!

It took us a couple of attempts before the anchor gripped and then, once we were happy the anchor was solid, we tried, and failed, twice to check in to Guadelaupe – once taking the bus about 15 miles south to the capital city, Basse-Terre but could not find customs or immigration, or anything open for that matter.   The Town Hall, police station and most shops were closed so we returned from our failed mission with only a sim card and data to show for our effort.   The next day was Saturday so, together with Mike and Nicki, attempted to get a bus to Deshaies, about 15 miles in the opposite direction.   Once again we failed, as no buses were running and Bouillante does not have any taxis so we returned again to our boat, still flying the yellow Q flag to show we had not cleared customs yet.  

Back at the boat we called our “go-to” amazing friend and general hero, Richard, in the UK to pick his brains about the horrible grating noise we were getting when the engine was in gear.   After a lot of discussion, video conferencing and explaining, the resulting diagnosis found our situation to be even worse than we had feared, and we were advised to avoid using the engine at all cost.   I’m sure it’s not hard to imagine how we felt.   After spending so much work, time and money to ensure we had a reliable engine, we were now left with our worst case scenario of having no motor due to issues with our aquadrive thrust bearings, which essentially is a universal joint that connects the propellor shaft to the engine.   If this fails it could be catastrophic and, in effect, permanently damage the boat.   The risk was too great to even think about pushing our luck any further, but we had a number of issues to consider – whether we could get the required spares for a part that was already nearly 30 years old; if it was possible, how long it would take to have them delivered to the Caribbean; whether there was anyone with experience who could fit the parts, or at least oversee our work; and finally what the alternative was if we could not find the parts.    One thing was certain, we were currently anchored in one of the most isolated bays in the whole of Guadeloupe and, on talking to friends who are from the island, we realised we needed to get closer to where all the marine services are based – on the other side of the island in Pointe a Pitre.

On Monday morning, still not having checked in to the country, we waited for the sea breeze to arrive before sailing off our anchor and left the bay with Zen Again following close behind.   We headed to a group of islands at the very south of Guadeloupe, called Les Saintes, where we had been told it would be easier for us to access Pointe a Pitre due to regular ferry services with the mainland.   Once again, the sail took longer than we had anticipated as after about 5NM the wind died completely, spent about 10 minutes spinning around in every direction and then filled in from the west, which was where Mike and Nicki were, so they shot ahead of us as we, frustratingly sat becalmed for another 10 minutes! When the wind set in, we found we could not point as high as Zen Again so had to tack several times before getting a course into the channel which was scattered with fishing buoys. We arrived in Terre de Haut, the main island in Les Saintes, as it was getting dark and slowly tacked up the narrow channel towards mooring buoys that filled the bay in front of the attractive small town.   Luckily Zen Again had gone ahead and kept us informed of available buoys as we slowly edged our way towards them.   Mike guided us to a buoy and was there to help us secure our lines, which was a huge relief!   It was a few days later that we realised how lucky we were to have found a free mooring buoy as they were in hot demand and, in the week we were there, we never saw another empty mooring buoy in the evening. Maybe our luck was starting to change……

The next morning we, at last, checked in to the country and were able to drop our yellow Q flag, flying the French flag from our starboard spreader.   Checking in was the easiest yet, as it is all computer based and self service, so we completed the on-line form in an agents office, printed it off, had it stamped and signed and we were done!   No requirements to show papers, covid certificates, insurance or even passports.   Boom!

The islands of Les Saintes are the battle grounds of the biggest naval conflict fought by the English and French in the Caribbean in 1782.  The result was the building of a number of fortifications around the coast of the islands which still dominate the hillsides.    The islands are small but very popular with day trippers who clog up the narrow roads with electric bikes and golf carts so walking along the roads can be dangerous as they silently creep up behind you!   Iguanas and goats rustle through the fields and tiny colourful humming birds draw nectar from the many and varied colourful flowers that grow along the roadside.   The island was one of only a very few in the Caribbean which was not used for slavery as the poor soil was considered unviable for sugar plantations.

After exploring some of the island, our next task was trying to source the spare parts we desperately needed so we could use our engine again.   We carry a number of spares, but replacement thrust bearings are not a commonly needed item and, until they started to make a terrible grating noise, we had very little knowledge of what they were!   Now we knew more than we ever thought we’d need to know – every day being a school day!    We called in as much help as we could, asking advice and assistance from a number of different sources, trying to cover as many angles as possible.   In a moment of desperation, we had a look at eBay and, much to our surprise, there was an exact, brand new, full replacement for sale in the UK for a fraction of the price we would be able to pay normally and only slightly more than getting just the parts we desperately needed.  We checked with Richard in the UK who spent some time researching, checking measurements and then negotiating with the vendor on our behalf.   Less than 24hrs after first seeing the listing, we had bought the part and it was on its way to Richard so we could arrange for it to be transported to the Caribbean.   For once we felt the boat repair Gods were smiling down on us!

Easter had arrived, and with it came an email from a company who had agreed to fit the new part which they said we could have couriered directly to them.  They informed us they would need three full days to do the work and have the boat hauled out.   Although we were desperate, we were not that desperate, so after mulling over our options, we decided to continue on our journey south, without the engine.   As the boat was being hauled out in Grenada in about six weeks, it was a cost we could not warrant and, in addition, felt it was unnecessary as we were convinced the work could be done while we were still afloat.   We are a sailboat, after-all, so we would just make better use of the sails and allow extra time if the wind died…….!

We left Guadeloupe on Easter Monday, checking out using the on-line system from a shop in the centre of town.   It was very simple, but a little frustrating that we had to complete the exact same form as when we’d arrived with no ability to just access the original form and update our departure details.    Anyway, with the risk of being called a whinging pom, the system was much better than others we have experienced so I won’t knock it!

Just before 8am we hoisted our mainsail and sailed off the mooring buoy, with Zen Again closely following behind us.   It had been windy in the anchorage for two days and, once we were away from the shelter of the islands, the wind and seas picked up and we were soon crashing through the waves making good speed.   Cerulean does love these conditions and gave us a comfortable, if not a little wet, 4hr sail to Dominica.    As we rounded the final headland to Portsmouth, the main anchorage on the island, the wind dropped completely, spun in every direction and then, eventually, arrived with such force we were pushed right over on our side!   We sailed into the wide harbour, negotiating fishing buoys and boats as we tacked towards the town where our friends on Ruffian were already anchored having arrived a few days earlier.    We were welcomed to the bay by some helpful guides who suggested we pick up a mooring buoy, but on hearing we had engine issues, gave us “permission” to drop the anchor close to a fishing jetty. The bay was surrounded by tall hills covered in beautiful thick forest with the small colourful houses of Portsmouth strung out along the waters edge.    Ever since planning our time in the Caribbean, Dominica was top of the list of places we wanted to explore and we were excited about being here, reunited with good friends, knowing that fun adventures lay ahead of us.

Seduced by Virgins

Suz had been with us for two wonderful weeks.  During this time we had stopped working on the boat and felt like we were on holiday, enjoying the small things and relaxing without thinking about the growing list of boat jobs we needed to attend to.   We had collected Suz in Antigua and were dropping her off in the BVI’s f weeks later.   She had settled into the small forward cabin and was getting used to moving around the boat without knocking body parts.  Even the very wet dinghy rides we subjected her to did not faze her or remove the smile from her face.   It was now time to really test her resolve with her first overnight sail to St Maartin, 80NM to the west.   

Everything started calmly with a gentle easterly wind and full moon which lit up the skies and seas like a street lamp.   We knew the forecast was for more wind and had prepared with two reefs in the main to ensure we did not have to make too many sail changes during the night.   At around 10pm the wind started getting up and we were soon speeding along at 7knots in building seas.   We changed from the big jib to our small staysail as we were going too fast as, if we continued at this pace, would arrive in the dark, plus we wanted this night sail to be an enjoyable experience for Suz.   We continued making good progress with Suz soon retreating to the saloon to get some much needed sleep.   A couple of brown noddy birds joined us on the passage, sitting on the safety rail as they perched precariously, swaying as the waves built and hit the side of the boat.    Once the island of St Barthelemy (St Barts) came into view, both birds flew off, leaving us with just some small reminders of their stay on board for a few hours!  

Saint-Martin/Sint Maarten is split between France and The Netherlands.  We headed for the Dutch side as our friends, Nicki and Mike on ZenAgain, had recommended the anchorage as it was less rolly than on the French side and less obstacles under the water.   We anchored outside the bay and waited for the bridge to raise at 0930, calling the bridge controller to request permission to enter the lagoon.    We joined a line of catamarans, superyachts and similar size boats to us, as we all jostled for space in the channel so we could charge into the shallow lagoon and claim the best anchorage, as soon as the bridge opened!    We were the second in line and were asked to quicken the pace as we slowly progressed, keeping within the 5knots limit but apparently this was too slow!    We saw Nicki and Mike waving at us from their boat, as we followed their instructions towards the anchorage.   It took us several attempts before the anchor held and we felt confident we had a good grip in the sand in only 3m of water.    Once we were happy we were secure, the three of us jumped in the dinghy and went ashore to check in.   Fortunately no covid test was required and the process was quick as we had already completed all our details on-line through eSeaClear.    When we returned to the dinghy, a very large iguana was guarding it and lazily strolled off when we attempted to pass it! 

Nicki and Mike very kindly offered to spend the next day showing us around the island, guiding us on buses, exploring the French side with its fabulous bakeries and supermarkets, watching planes land and take-off from the runway that borders a beautiful beach, enjoying the wonderful food available in small cafes and explaining the best place to get the items we were keen to purchase to make the most of the duty-free shopping available on the island.   The only thing you notice when moving between the French and Dutch sides is the cellphone coverage improves on the French side and the pace of recovery from the devastating Hurricane Dorian in 2019 was much slower on the French side.   This is due to the French bureaucracy around proving ownership before providing money to rebuild or repair.   As most of the residents of the island are descendants of slaves and made homes out of the land that was deserted by rich overseas owners, when the slave trade was abolished in the 1800’s, very few had official papers proving they owned the land that had been in their families for generations.   This has held up progress and roads, houses, commercial buildings remain broken as a constant reminder of the destructive storm.   Meanwhile on the Dutch side, they took the attitude that it needed to be tidied up and those affected needed to be helped, so they just got on with repairing the infrastructure and clearing up the mess that was left behind.

Before leaving we took advantage of the well-stocked supermarkets and replenished our dwindling supplies of non-perishables as well as filling our tank with duty free fuel.   After five days we left St Martins in the early evening and set sail for the British Virgin Islands (BVI’s), about 95NM of beam reach sailing in a good 17-20knot breeze.   Once again a squall hit us in the middle of the night so we reefed the Yankee and I hand steered for the last part of the passage, enjoying the speed under clear skies and a bright moon.    We passed between Necker and Gorda Islands while it was still dark and then gybed to head down the western side of Gorda and into Sir Francis Drake Channel, just as the sun came up.   It was a beautiful introduction to the BVI’s as the sun slowly revealed the many islands surrounding us.

We picked up a mooring buoy in Sopers Hole on Tortola and, after paying US$50 each for a covid test in addition to visiting various officials to complete checking in procedures.  This involved making a payment at each step of the formalities but it was confusing what we were actually paying for, however at the end of it we were officially checked in and free to explore the BVI’s.  

There are about 40 islands that make up the Virgin Islands with most of them clustered together with just a couple (at most) miles separating each of them.   Several of the smaller islands are privately owned and landing on them without permission is not allowed.   The US Virgin Isles are made up of just four main islands and are much more populated than the remaining islands of the BVI’s.   This makes the BVI’s a much more appealing cruising ground and is hugely popular with American tourists who charter yachts for a week’s holiday.   In turn, this has made the BVI’s a less attractive place to visit for longterm cruisers due to the many beautiful bays now festooned with mooring buoys to cater for the charter boats and making anchoring challenging.   Fortunately, if you look hard enough, there are still quiet bays that charter boats seem to avoid and our mission was to seek these out!

Over the next few days we sailed to Jost Van Dyke where we were first introduced to the cocktail called “Painkiller” made from local rum and where we enjoyed the beautiful calm, blue waters of a quiet bay while relaxing in the beautiful isolated environment.   We found a lovely anchorage on Peter Island which we enjoyed with just two other boats, listening to the birds in the nearby trees as we anchored close to the shore.    Next we sailed to Virgin Gorda and, after a brief stop at “The Baths” – a natural swimming hole surrounded by large granite boulders, we anchored off Moskito Island behind a long reef and in front of a private white sandy beach.   The Island is one of two islands owned by Sir Richard Branson and accommodates three luxury, and very exclusive, resorts.   We people-watched as guests were delivered to the island by private water taxi and ushered to their accommodation.   Necker Island was within sight of our anchorage with three new wind turbines dominating the islands skyline.   We swam off the boat and felt smug that we were enjoying the same privileges as those paying over US$5000 a night just a few feet away!  

After five weeks with us, Suz’s departure date was fast approaching and she wanted to treat us to a special night out.   We had chosen Saba Rock as the perfect place to celebrate as we could pick up a mooring buoy just outside the restaurant, making our dinghy ride back to the boat much easier than the last time we returned from a night out in Barbuda when I got dumped in the sea by the crashing surf!   We definitely made the right choice of restaurant as the location, atmosphere, service and food was first class.   We had a memorable night filled with laughter, excellent food, a few painkillers and conversation that comes so easily with good friends.   We will all remember that night for the rest of our days!

We sailed to Trellis Bay on Beef Island and picked up a mooring buoy in the small bay that was littered with neglected boats, once again evidence of the destructive hurricane.   The main airport for the BVI’s was within sight, so when it came time to deliver Suz to the small international airport, we took the dinghy ashore and walked down a small dusty path to the departure lounge.   We still had sand in our shoes as we said our farewells.   It had been a wonderful few weeks, exploring new islands together, enjoying each other’s company and we loved sharing our adventures with a dear friend whom I have known and cherished for over 40 years.

We waved to Suz’s small plane as it flew over Cerulean, heading for Antigua to connect with a transatlantic flight back to London.   We left Trellis Bay and had an exciting sail to Anegada, a low lying island in the north of the BVI’s, catching a yellow fin tuna along the way while dodging rain squalls bringing 25-30knots of wind in short bursts.   About 3NM from the island, the sea shallows to below 10m and then gradually gets shallower until we were in about 4m of water off a beautiful deserted white sandy beach on the south west end of the island.   We joined three French boats that were already anchored in the bay and sat out a few more rain showers which brought strong winds and tested the hold of our anchor.     Steve dived on the anchor and found it firmly embedded in the sand so we slept peacefully after feasting on the fresh tuna.

We woke to clear skies – a perfect day to go ashore and explore.   The Western part of Anegada is a huge fully enclosed salt lake with just a narrow strip of land separating the lake from the Caribbean Sea.   It is a haven for birdlife and often flocks of pink Flamingos can be found in the ponds.  Sadly there were none to be seen when we visited, although we were told we should return at sunset.  We did, however, see lots of other interesting birdlife as we walked along the long, straight, empty concrete slab road in the blistering heat – The Mockingbird, Grey kingfisher, smooth-billed Ani, Elaenia and others we could not identify, darted between the trees chirping and squawking at us as we unintentionally disturbed their nest building. 

We were anchored a short dinghy ride from a reef which broke the surface of the water in places, so went over to snorkel in the warm water.   Visibility was not great and it was heartbreaking to see so much dead and bleached coral but a real highlight for me was swimming in a large school of large blue and yellow fish that appeared all around me.  My initial fear of being surrounded by large fish, soon turned to total wonder as they darted around me, turning in synchronised harmony as they moved with the current.   Every so often I poked my head above the water and squealed at Steve as he waited for me in the dinghy, confusing him as he couldn’t make out if I was in trouble or enjoying myself!!!  

After a short stay anchored in the blue waters of Anegada we decided to return to Virgin Gorda before the anchorage was invaded by a large flotilla of charter boats we could see approaching the quiet bay.   The weekend appears to be the best time to visit Anegada as it is generally the weekend that most charters start and finish.   This means that mid-week is the busiest time in the bays around Virgin Gorda and Anegada so we tried to avoid being in the popular bays over that period. 

We had a fast and glorious sail back to Spanish Town on Virgin Gorda where we visited customs and immigration to check out of the country, before continuing our sail up the coast to be as far north as possible for our sail back to the eastern islands.   We anchored in a beautiful, shallow and quiet bay between Eustatia and Prickly Pear islands, just south of Necker.   I wished we could have spent longer there but we had one final swim in the warm waters of the BVI’s before preparing for the 210NM sail SE to Guadeloupe.   We knew it would be a difficult passage as the wind and current was against us, but if we had known about the many problems we would encounter along the way, I wonder if our smiles would have been as wide and our hearts as full, as we bade the BVI’s a fond farewell.