Charter-Cruising Logs

To charter or to own - the Leewards...

2008-02-10T06:30:00.001-08:00

Cruising the Leewards…This is the second leg of the "charter or own" trip, which follows six weeks in the protected Disneyland like British Virgin Islands, the log for which appears below this in this blog. I've pretty much decided to own. This is not Deborah's choice, though. She'd rather pay the charter costs so that she'll never have to worry about maintenance and breakdowns and boat failures. So, when we return we'll be doing some negotiating over our partnership boat, Spindrift.

I'm stretched to own 1/2 of Spindrift, my Islander Bahama 28 Dog Days, and then buy my own cruising boat for the Caribbean. I could sell Dog Days, but that's the boat I know I want to sail until I can no longer sail - easy to single hand, just the right size for one person - so selling her is off the table. I could sell my half of Spindrift and then buy another cruising boat, or Deb could sell her half of Spindrift to me, but then she would have no boat at all.

Meantime, I'm buying a condo and having surgery on my left ankle, which will totally occupy me until mid-summer and probably longer. So the partnership on Spindrift continues through this sailing season. ... but on to the Leewards adventure.

02/01 – The first day of February was a day of travel. It is a fourteen to seventeen hour sail from the British Virgins to St Martin, which we chose not to do. Instead, we flew from Tortola on Liat Airline to St Maarten (the Dutch side), which took us about seven hours – long waits at the airport, a delayed flight, and lots of traffic from St. Maarten to the Sunsail base at Oyster Pond in St Martin. After a late lunch at Captain Oliver’s, we check in and moved aboard Big Foot, the same Beneteau Oceanis 393 we’d chartered a year before. She appeared in good shape, although over the course of our charter we discovered she had the same weak battery problem that had existed the first time we were on here, and this time the heads really had been abused and had smells that just wouldn’t go away.

02/02 – Provisioning! We caught a taxi down to the market with four Dutch fellows who were the provisioning detail for their all-male ten-person bonding charter on a large catamaran. Really nice, fun guys, and we kibitzed through the ride and for an hour and a half of shopping at the market. Back at the boat, we stowed all the supplies, checked out all the systems, and finally declared the boat ready at about 14:00. We decided to spend the rest of the day at Oyster Pond, relaxing, eating, and seeing off our new Dutch acquaintances.

We had a great buffet dinner at Captain Oliver’s and then adjourned to Niko’s Yacht Club Bar. He remembered us well from last year and was filled with apologies for not having emailed the photos they’d taken. He invited me to play piano and we had a wonderful time listening, dancing, and performing! I finally got his email address – he’s moving back to Nice at the end of the season (in May), where he and his partner and new child think they can do a bit better.

St. Barth…

02/03-02/05 – We departed St Martin for St Barth at 09:30, Deb at the helm, a double reef in the main, following the Sunsail chase boat out the channel behind the hidden reefs and directly into ten and twelve foot seas. It was a wild ride, which photographs unfortunately do not capture. As the chase boat literally leapt three or four feet above the water going over swells, Deb motored along at 2500 rpm and the Beneteau almost seemed to leap free of the ocean as well.

Once beyond the reefs, the seas settled to perhaps ten foot swells. I got some jib out and we sailed the 14.1 nautical miles to St Barth in about three hours. The winds were between 15 and 20 knots and sometimes fell off substantially, and as we neared St. Barth the seas settled. The anchorage was quite full. We anchored in Anse du Corossol, on the north side of the bay outside Gustavia, but we weren’t happy with the breadth of our swing, so we weighed anchor and anchored a second time, which proved equally unsatisfying. In the midst of our second effort, a French fellow on an adjacent boat pointed out a mooring adjacent to him that he said was free and we could use it, which we decided to do. A bit later, after we were secured, he dinghied over to let us know that it was his mooring and he’d be pleased if we used it for the week, if we wished. (A day later, we dropped by his boat, astern of us, and thanked him with a good bottle of St. Emillion Bordeaux.)

St. Barth is a lively island, well-off, and filled with megayachts. But we arrived on Sunday, and when we went into immigration at 16:00, there were few people about the streets. We finally found a place to get something to eat, across from Le Select, the bar that Jimmy Buffett frequents, and determined that Monday would be the day to explore the town.

One thing about the Leewards is that the wind blows. This is a sailor’s paradise with long, beautiful passages on moderate seas. But anchorages are often quite roily, as was ours in Anse du Corossol. The next day we were actually pretty tired, so we ended up having a long midday meal at the Bistro, which is on the water at the inside end of the Gustavia harbor – lovely French food and bread. We spotted Jimmy Buffett’s classy little French day sailor Groovy on the quay, wandered around the harbor a bit, and then retired to Big Foot for an early night.

Tuesday was Carnival! (Click here for photos) We went ashore early, thinking it would be super crowded, and we probably jumped the gun. But we enjoyed counting the megayachts (over twenty med-tied at the quay), and climbed up the hill separating the harbor from the sea. We considered two or three other restaurants, but ended up back at the Bistro, where we saw that Jimmy must be in town because Groovy was all ready to be sailed – covers off, bottom cleaned, flag flying.

The Carnival parade started around 15:00 – great fun to watch, even more to be a part of – and it lasted well into the night. Over by Le Select we spotted Richard Spindler, publisher of Latitude 38, and said hello. He seemed genuinely pleased to see some Bay Area sailors and asked all about our trip and took our photos, which he said he’d put in ‘Lectronic Latitude, the online presence of Latitude 38 - it appeared on February 15th as "Testing the Waters."

Statia…

02/06 – We got up early and departed for St Eustatius (Statia), almost 30 nautical miles to the Southwest. We had a beautiful sail with 17-20 knot winds deep off the beam, averaged 5.5 kts and actually hit 9.9 kts coming down off one swell. It took us five and a half hours, and we found a nice spot to anchor just above the commercial dock. Statia is a small Dutch island, which the Dutch government has put quite a bit of money into for historical restoration. Most visitors come by air and stay at hotels. There is a medical school and a big oil industry presence. Overall, it’s quiet and an enormous opposite from St Barth.

We walked up the steep “slave path” to the town on the cliffs above the harbor, wandered about the town and the restored Fort Oranje, and then found our way down the vehicular road to the harbor. Along the way we met John and Kathleen from Eden Prairie Minnesota, who were staying for a couple of weeks at the King’s Well hotel. They’ve been coming to the Caribbean since the mid-1980s, for years aboard the Windjammer wooden sailing ships, which just went out of service this season. We stopped the Old Gin House for a drink and were soon joined by Aaron and Bobby, also guests at the King’s Well. We had such a good time that I went back out to Big Foot, with Aaron in tow, to get a flashlight and warmer shirt so we could stay at the Gin House for dinner.

We also witnessed our first “green flash” while standing on the deck of the Old Gin House. Of course, even with my digital camera on motion-picture setting, I couldn’t capture it for posterity, but it was definitely there!

On to St. Kitts…

02/07-02/08 – Statia was a roily night, and we decided to move south to St Christopher (St. Kitts). Although it seems quite close to Statia, it was a 22.2 nm journey down to Basseterre, the main anchorage and main city of St. Kitts. It was a close haul the entire way, on which we averaged 4.4 kts and managed to hit 7.5 kts at one point. It was a long five hours.

Basseterre – what a shock. We’d hoped to get into the marina and get a good night sleep, but it was full up and we headed over to the deep water port to anchorage in its lee adjacent to the coast guard station. A cruise ship was in dock, jutting out to the center of the main bay, separated the yacht marina and the deep water port. We anchored easily enough, as there was lots of room, and, after failing to find a spot near the cruise ship dock to tie up our dinghy, found our way to the deep water port dock.

What a strange feeling to tie up at a seemingly derelict dock and climb up into a working commercial port surrounded by trucks and containers being unloaded and stacked. We finally found customs and immigration (they now have a new office down at the cruise ship docks, but if you aren’t at the marina or anchored in the small, roily spot adjacent to it, you wind up at the commercial port). The customs officer was very nice and, after he’d checked us in, gave us a ride into the marina and town center.

We were pretty tired and mostly hungry, so we had an early dinner at Ballahoo, a restaurant overlooking the Circus that was recommended in Doyle’s cruising guide. Speaking of Doyle’s guides, if you could find another one, you’d be well served. His 2006-2007 Cruising Guide to the Leeward Islands is poorly written, contains many small errors, and really sends you on the wrong track. He’s certainly no food critic, often applauding really mediocre places. Deb suggests that I should write one when I’m down here for the long extended stay I’m planning in the coming few years. Maybe so…at least an addendum of sorts.

A taxi to us back to the deep water port, and we spent an uneventful evening aboard Big Foot. At least we got an internet connection (there is a free Linksys network of Wifi in the islands, which we’ve found fairly good, and we usually can get on from the boat with a booster antenna), and we had a snack dinner.

Next day we took a taxi into town, shopped and had lunch at the Circus Grill, also overlooking the Circus (town square). It was a much better meal than Doyle’s choice, which he mentions almost in passing. I suppose that we might have stayed longer if we could have gotten a spot at the marina. The Sunsail folks told us about a couple of spots on St Kitts that we should visit, but somehow it just didn’t strike our fancy. After lunch, shopping, and checking out of immigration for Nevis (leaving the next day), we went back to the boat and enjoyed a sundowner, a beautiful sunset, and a fun evening of talk and crosswords.

Sail down to Nevis…

02/09-02/11 – Nevis is not far south of St. Kitts and part of the same nation. We motor sailed to the Narrows, which separates the two islands, then sailed on the jib across the final five miles to Charlestown (we actually hit 6.8 kts closing reaching on the jib). The trip took a little over two hours, and we decided to anchor just below the dinghy dock in the Charlestown harbor. A little further north is Pinney’s Beach, with the Four Seasons Resort and Sunshine Bar on the north end and the Double Deuce on the south end (adjacent to Pinney’s resort, which is undergoing refurbishing). There are over sixty brand new moorings along Pinney’s, laid out in three long rows along the coast. They are free (for the moment), newly placed by the Nevis government. The problem, of course, is there is no dinghy dock along Pinney’s (except at the Four Seasons, and that’s private), so one has to drag their dinghy up on the beach. Not that it’s so bad, but I suspect the moorings will never be filled unless some shoreline development follows. We just found it a lot easier to anchor near town and immigration and use the dinghy dock.

Nevis is laid back. A nice town, very friendly people (just as in St Kitts), and we found a great little restaurant, the Café des Arts. Guess I need to give Doyle credit for this one, because he said it was wonderful and it was. After lunch we walked up Pinney’s to the Sunshine Bar – we skipped the “Killer Bee” drink – and then through the Four Seasons, where we caught a taxi back and spent a nice night in a not so roily anchorage. The next morning Deb slept in until well after 10:00, and I caught up on writing and internet connections.

Nevis, like St. Kitts, is working hard to try and attract tourism and is capitalizing on preserving their natural environment. One of the efforts to this end is to try and eliminate anchoring by visiting boats, and to this end the government has installed over sixty brand new white mooring balls laid out in four long rows off Pinney’s Beach. They have also put in five yellow quarantine mooring balls just off the town dock. The mooring field off Pinney’s is lovely, but there is no dinghy dock along, except at the Four Seasons, which is private. One can pull their dinghy up on the beach at Sunshine’s or at the Double Deuce, but if you want to stay dry, the dinghy dock in town is a bit of a ride. Since we wanted to stay dry and use the dinghy dock, we decided to anchor in the roomy harbor at Charlestown, where at least one other boat had dropped the hook.

When we went in and cleared customs on Saturday, the agent said nothing about the mooring balls and also failed to tell us that we also had to clear immigration, despite the fact we had a boat pass from St. Kitts immigration to visit Nevis. When we went in to town on Monday, we were stopped as we walked off the dock by a local harbor police officer, who asked if we’d come in on the ferry or by boat and then if we’d cleared immigration. We told him what we had done the day before, and he directed us to the little immigration office, which was closed the day before, although the immigration officer assured us he had been there.

While Deb waited behind another skipper to check in with him, I walked over to the tourist office where I was assured we could get a weather report. There I picked up a fancy and clearly expensively produced color brochure that described the new mooring system on Nevis. The tone, frankly, was not very welcoming, but it did make clear how to pick up the moorings, the check in procedure and so forth. It also said one could not anchor in swimming areas, but it did not say anchoring was prohibited.

When I arrived back at immigration, Deb was just finished, and when I showed her the brochure she laughed because the immigration officer had explained that anchoring was forbidden now but had nothing in writing to show her. He’d been looking all over his office for some document, which most likely was the brochure. In any case, Deb said we were well anchored, had been well anchored for two nights in the same spot, and she was not inclined to move to a mooring ball off Pinney’s Beach. He charged her for one night on a mooring ball, and left it unclear as to whether we would move or not. We stayed on anchor, and no one said a thing.

Clearly, Nevis is trying to change things, but as is so often true in the bureaucracy of customs and immigration and tourism, not everyone is talking with one another all the time.

Back to Statia…

2/12-02/13 – The sail back to Statia was a great downwind venture, 30.8 miles at an average of 5 kts. We decided just to sail on the jib, since it looked like there might be some gusty conditions. From Nevis to just above Basseterre on St. Kitts, it was smooth and sunny. “Otto” the autopilot performed flawlessly, and even Deb used it when she was at the helm. Then we were hit by a squall – I was at the helm and Otto kept the boat right on course through a couple of gusts of a little over 25 knots. I was wet as was the cockpit (we had no dodger on this boat), but the sun came out and quickly dried things off. A few minutes later a second squall hit us, and this time a gust of over 30 knots was more than Otto could handle. By the time I got auto off and had the helm in hand, we’d rounded up, done a 360, hit 8.6 knots and were merrily on our way again.

When we arrived in Statia, the close in anchorage was too crowded, we thought, so we managed to get one of the four or five Marine Park mooring balls a bit further out. In the process, I dropped the boat hook, Deb tried to maneuver the boat to get it two or three times, and I finally got in the dinghy to retrieve it. Once secured on the mooring ball, we didn’t linger long aboard. It was terribly roily, so we decided to go ashore and get a drink and perhaps dinner.

We ended up at the Old Gin House for a drink – we had to wait for over an hour before we could eat – and while sitting there watching the harbor churn, Deb decided to see if we could get a room for the night. She was successful, so we went back to the boat to get a couple of necessities, settled in the room and then had a gourmet meal cooked by the new chef who started his career as a chef in Los Angeles and had just arrived a couple of months before on Statia. Then we adjourned to watch a movie on the TV and sleep soundly.

The next day the seas were up and winds high. Thursday looked like the best day in the next four for sailing to St. Martin, so we decided to spend another night ashore. We had a lovely time wandering around Statia during the day, and that night had a wonderful barbecue with live music and dancing at the Gin House, joined by our new acquaintance Marit Dijkstra and her father, who were on holiday from St Maarten.

To St. Maarten…

02/14-02/17 – We re-discussed the weather and finally decided to leave Statia around 09:00. We motored out of the anchorage and through the oil tankers to the north end of the island, and once beyond the gusts coming off the island put out not quite a full jib. The seas were six to eight feet with an occasional ten-foot swell, and the winds the predicted 14-18 knots between a close and beam reach. It turned out to be one of the nicest sails we had. We made 39.9 nm in a little over six hours, averaging 5.6 knots and hitting 9.3 coming down off of one swell. And, we decided not to use Otto, so we took turns at the helm.

We found a nice spot to anchor in Simpson Bay, checked in at customs, and found dinner at Picante, a restaurant right off Simpson Bay run by Felipe Gomez, a Colombian who spent a long time in the San Francisco Bay Area. His cousin Chia was there as well, and she actually lived on Koch Lane in San Jose, not more than six blocks from my old family home, and she lived as well in Morgan Hill, where I had lived, and a brother owned a restaurant in Gilroy, which I had eaten at more than once. What a small world!

After a lovely sleep aboard the boat in Simpson Bay, we started the next day with breakfast ashore and a check of email at an internet café. Ironically, our email connections from the boat were the best in Statia, St. Kitts, and Nevis, islands with few people and few WiFi spots. In St. Barth and in St. Maarten there are so many wireless networks operating that we get interference and either cannot get a connection, get knocked off frequently, or can’t connect to web sites.

We took a fifteen minute dinghy ride through the Simpson Bay Lagoon to Marigot on the French side. There we visited shops, had lunch at the marina, and wandered the town. At 17:00 we dinghied back to the St. Maarten Yacht Club at the Dutch entrance to the lagoon. There we got a drink, watched some beautiful boats come into the lagoon at the 17:30 bridge opening, and met Jim Gibbon.

Jim came to the Caribbean in the 1960s and soon became a charter captain in the nascent industry. He ran charter boats for almost forty years, finally retiring on St Maarten, where he could easily be a chamber of commerce or tourist bureau spokesman. We had more than another drink with him at the yacht club and then, at his suggestion, walked a couple of doors over to the local’s pizza parlor – the best pizza ever! There we met Andy (the Dalai Lama) and Melissa van Assen, husband and wife and professional captain and cook on a 120 foot private one-off sailing yacht. Wonderful people, and we discovered we both knew Richard Spindler publisher of Latitude 38. Before the night was out, Jim made arrangements for us to meet him before noon and he’d show us around and we’d join Andy and Melissa for lunch.

Next morning we slept in – I’d definitely had too much to drink the night before, and Deb was a bit upset with me – but we finally managed to find an even keel and dinghied into the yacht club to meet Jim. We actually arrived just as he did, so we tied up our dinghy and locked it and climbed in his 12-foot inflatable. We cruised down mega-yacht row, counting perhaps 50 yachts over 120 feet. It’s truly the largest single collections of mega-yachts I think I’ll ever see. Then we went over to Andy and Melissa’s sailing yacht and were invited aboard to look about. It is a twenty-year-old boat, but it has every imaginable luxury you could want. Envy, envy! After the tour and a photo on the foredeck, we returned to the inflatable and with Andy and Melissa following in their inflatable, we raced across Simpson Lagoon to the inner harbor in Marigot (French, St Martin), where we had lunch at one of the eight or nine French cafes surrounding the harbor.

We spent a couple of days wandering about Simpson Lagoon, relaxing and enjoying the polyglot culture. Finally we decided to check out of St Maarten and go on up to Grand Case on the French side of the island for our final anchorage.

Grand Case…

02/18-02/21 – We took our dinghy in and checked out of St Maarten first thing in the morning, then dinghied across Simpson Lagoon to Marigot, where we walked through town and checked in to St Martin. We had lunch and then went back across the lagoon and out to Big Foot in Simpson Bay, where we weighed anchored and motor sailed around the southwest end of the island, thence up to Grand Case on the west side of St Martin. We traveled 16.1 nm in three and a half hours under just the jib partially with the engine running, arriving in late afternoon.

Grand Case is a beautiful sweeping beach with a main street running parallel. Along the street are more than a dozen excellent restaurants and a number of nice little shops. It reminds me of Cane Garden Bay, but with a lot more class. The anchorage was a bit roily, but not intolerable. The first night there, however, the winds gusted up to 40 knots and everybody kept anchor watch. In the morning we saw a couple of boats pull anchor and reset where there was less danger of boats coming close.

Tuesday nights in Grand Case is a street party. All the shops are open and vendors set up tables along the streets, there is live music at several locations, and parading Caribbean musicians. People come from all over the island, and it is great fun. We had dinner at a little restaurant on the north end of town, a bit away from the crowds, and it was one of the best French style meals we had anywhere.

We lounged about aboard the boat on Wednesday, and started thinking about packing and getting ready to end the trip. Frankly, we were pretty tired at this point, and going home was looking good, although we didn’t want to leave either.

Oyster Pond…

02/21-02/22 – We motored the two hours into the wind and building seas from Grand Case to Oyster Pond, only about 10 nm. We got through the entrance channel into the pond without mishap, though it was a bit of a ride with ten foot swells pushing us in. Then we fueled up the boat and Sunsail’s staff met us and med-tied the boat in its spot.

We still had one night aboard, which we’d planned so that we could spend the afternoon packing and have a chance to drop by the Nikko’s Yacht Club Bar that night for some wine and music. There are always people readying to leave on charters, and as we packed up leftover food and such, we decided to present a bottle of rum we’d not finished and some gin to a group of fellows on two boats just down the dock from us. They turned out to be a group of Canadians, Deb was soon entranced in conversation with one of them, and we ended up spending much of the evening with them – at the Dinghy Bar (a little hamburger joint), the Yacht Club Bar (I got to play piano again), and then finally on their boats. We finally all crashed around midnight.

Next day, we finished packing, got our things up to the Sunsail office, and finally the Canadians got underway around noon. We caught a taxi and headed off to St Maarten and the airport, where we flew to San Juan, Puerto Rico.

San Juan to California…

02/22-02/23 – We arrived in San Juan around 16:00 and per our plans had a hotel room awaiting us near the airport. We figured breaking up the return flight to California was a smart thing to do. We went into the old city of San Juan for dinner, and then wandered around and ultimately found a nice little place to have desert and coffee outside. It was a nice break in the travel and we had a chance to reminisce about the sailing, which was already beginning to seem like a memory. Next morning we flew out to L.A., and eventually back home to the Bay Area.

Along the way, I was already thinking about the next trip to the Caribbean – a long one, on my own boat, truly living the cruising life. Deb said I’d better bring her along as crew on at least one leg of my journey, and we cast our eyes on future sailing adventures….

For more photos

To charter or to own - the BVIs...

2007-12-17T10:21:00.000-08:00

What to do? Own your own boat in the Caribbean or just spend oodles of money chartering? My sailing partner Deborah and I have been debating this one for a couple of years, and still have not agreed. So, while the jury is out, we agreed to continue the investigation.

After a short stopover in Los Angeles to check in with her family, we flew off to the British Virgin Islands for a six-week stint on a boat from BVI Yacht Charters, thence on to the Leewards (St. Martin, St. Bart, St. Kitts, and Nevis) for three more weeks with Sunsail.

I'll try to keep you posted here as the trip develops (and as our internet connections make it possible).

Travel time…

12/19-12/20 - The “red-eye” from L.A. to San Juan sounded good when we made our plans a year ago. It made possible a visit to her family in L.A. and then “guaranteed” that our checked bags would not be lost on the trip east.

Ha! First the plane out of L.A. was scratched for mechanical problemsjust after boarding. An hour and a half later we were on another plane, but one not quite as provisioned as the first, which, since we were in business class (thanks to collecting miles for months), it was a bit disappointing. More disappointing, we arrived with only an hour for our connection in San Juan to Beef Island (Tortola, BVI).

Ha, again! Bags not lost. Well, my checked bag made it through, but Deb’s got held back in San Juan and didn’t arrive until the next day. It happens all the time, and we’d not booked on it – the small American Eagle turbo-props that fly the islands can’t carry as much weight as we American tourists cart with us. The lesson – pack light and, if you must bring more (as we had to for this nine-week trip), be patient. Bags almost always show up a day or two later.

In any event, we finally arrived at the Fort Burt Hotel late in the afternoon, checked in our room, and then went across the street to The Pub, where we had the best baby-back rib dinner either one of us have ever had. We’ve eaten at The Pub before, but always midday when the fare was burgers, good but not exceptional. What a pleasant surprise.

With ribs lining our gullets, it was back to our room, where Deb, exhausted, went to bed soon after 19:00 hours. But my favorite Tortola musician was playing at the Pub, so I returned for a beer and some blues from M.J. Blues. But it didn’t last long, and I was soon falling asleep in my chair.

Provisioning and underway…

12/21-23 – Charter companies always offer to provision your boat with food, but we’ve found that their provisioning lists are usually not the food we want. Moreover, they’re set up for people on a week’s cruise, not a six-week cruise. So, we like to provision ourselves.

We had planned to put together a really good shopping list based on our previous charters, but time got the best of us and we had to cobble something together after we slept for almost 15 hours after our travel ordeal.

After a disappointing and unremarkable lunch at the Fort Burt Hotel on the 21^st, we walked down from Fort Burt to Village Cay Marina in Tortola, where Deb made a hair salon appointment for late January. Then we took a taxi over to BVI Yacht Charters at Joma Marina, where we checked in, got a chart briefing, put three bags of ice in the “freezer” (refrigerator), and then walked a little way to the big RiteWay Market, then taxied down to Bobby’s Market to check out things there as well. We returned to Fort Burt, celebrated the delivery of Deb’s bag from the airport, and had dinner again at The Pub.

After a good night’s sleep and another disappointing breakfast at Fort Burt (quality changes over time, I guess),we transferred our bags by taxi to our boat and set out to do our marketing. We got two baskets of provisions at Bobby’s, got that on to the boat. Then another basket of provisions at RiteWay went aboard, followed by a few small bags of provisions from One Mart, near the marina. With things pretty well organized aboard, we had a tin of oysters with cheese and crackers and spent the night aboard.

Next morning, the 23d, we finished organizing things on board, made a couple of more short trips to the One Mart for items we’d forgotten (the result of not making a comprehensive shopping list), and finally around 13:30 we shoved off for the Pirate’s Bight at Norman Island for our first night aboard Syros.

With almost no wind in Sir Francis Drake Channel, we motored the distance of 6.45 nautical miles, reaching a maximum speed of 8.9 knots.

Syros…

We think the Beneteau introduced its Cyclades model for the charter business in 2006. Overall the Cyclades uses less expensive plumbing gear and interior wood than Beneteau’s Oceanis series. It’s pan and headliner also appears to be of poorer quality than the Oceanis.

Syros is a 43.3 foot sloop, with a forward V-berth cabin and head, a large main salon, galley along the port side, salon table and seating on the starboard side with a nav station aft. There are two aft cabins, each with a head. The cockpit is spacious, with a fixed center folding table. There are two large lockers under the cockpit seats. The boat has two wheels and is equipped with Raymarine instruments and a C-80 chart plotter. She’s spacious, sails well enough, and is comfortable on a mooring, so I guess we can put up with the lower quality materials.

We’ve suffered through some pretty shabby boats in the Caribbean, and Syros’s systems are almost all operating without fault. The wind speed instrument and knot meter are not functioning, but that’s minor. The freezer and refrigerator are doing just fine.

Norman Island…

12/23-12/25 – The mooring field at the Bight was hardly full, perhaps 25 boats. We picked up our mooring easily, relaxed, and around 17:00 dinghied in to the Pirates bar for a Pina Colada. What a change! All the cruisers flags, mementos, and signatures gone from the walls, everything painting in bright Caribbean colors. This and new tables and chairs made the place generally a bit more upscale, but the rollicking atmosphere was missing. One thing we both liked was the remodeled boutique, although the merchandise hadn’t changed at all.

We lingered at the Bight, spending all of Christmas Eve day and night on Syros. On Christmas Day we arose to breakfast and Christmas music, and at 10:30 departed for Great Harbour on Peter Island.

A nice gentle sail of 8 nm; max speed 5 kts.

Peter Island…

12/25-27 - We found a lovely mooring in Great Harbour just of the Seven Oceans Beach Club, which was closed both on Christmas Day and Boxing Day. We snorkeled in the afternoon and saw some great fish, dinghied around Great Harbour, fawned over some of the big yachts, and ended the day with barbecued chicken, which we ate in the cockpit overlooking the lights of Roadtown and some of the luxury yachts anchored outside us. The view was truly spectacular.

Next day we decided to motor over to Sprat Bay, the harbor of the Peter Island Resort, where we picked up a very expensive mooring for two nights (don’t ask how much!). We made a reservation for dinner at the resort’s Tradewinds restaurant, and then did some shopping at the resort boutique – upscale indeed, with lots of nice Tommy Bahama style menswear and a great women’s collection. We walked a quarter-mile to Deadman Bay, where we had lunch at the resort’s beach bar and restaurant.

Our dinner at the Tradewinds was lovely. Since it was Boxing Day - the day after Christmas - it wasn’t crowded, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely.

The weather has been lovely but for intermittent squalls coming through. We’ve come to expect the rain. Things dry out right away, and a benefit of the squalls are some very nice rainbows. The one in this picture appeared while we were still at the Bight on Norman Island.

Squalls also tend to keep us in the boat’s salon. We spent much of the 27^th aboard Syros, dodging rain squalls and also taking advantage of the free wireless connection from Peter Island Resort. Using all this electronic stuff for the first time on a cruise – usually we’re trying to escape the -world completely – is frustrating. The wireless connection can be intermittent, using new software can be frustrating, and we agreed spending whole days doing this stuff is a drag.

As well, we blew a fuse on the “freezer” today. It took us a while to determine the problem (not too familiar with the newer style fuses), but we figured it out and found some spares aboard – thanks to Captain Deborah requesting them on the boat checkout. It turns out the “freezer” works fairly well, but we really need to run it three or four hours a day with the engine on. The two hours a day BVI Yacht Charters recommends just doesn’t do it. As for the “refrigerator,” it is just a hot box. Deb put some veggies it that became moldy within five days, so we’re now keeping only things that can take some heat in it.

Ice is just a daily line-item budget here. We’ve gone through 23 bags of cube ice in nine days. If we can get blocks, it lasts longer, but blocks are a rare commodity. Perhaps when we spend a night at Marina Cay – last April when our boat for two weeks had no refrigerator at all, we found block ice there.

At 16:00 I took Deb into the marina and she caught a shuttle to the Peter Island Resort Spa. Then I met her at the lobby bar for a drink at 18:00. A local musician was setting up to play sax to recording backing, and Deb suggested we splurge again for dinner. What the hell…why not! So we had a great sea bass and beef tenderloin dinner, listen to Everett play a very nice sax, danced a bit after eating, and soaked in the view of Tortola. Indeed, the food was so good, we decided on the spot to stay one more night and do it again.

Staying through the 28^th gave us a chance to doing some exploring of the island, so we walked quite a bit. Peter Island is truly lovely, less spoiled partly because it’s been a private resort for many years. The original builder and owner of the resort died a couple of years ago, and his children took it over. They decided to open it up to visiting yachtsmen, so one can get a berth at the marina or moor on one of five mooring balls in Sprat Bay. One can also anchor in Deadman’s Bay and use a beach set aside for boaters as well as eat lunch at the resort beach bar, or you can anchor in Great Harbour and dinghy ashore and wander across a little spit to Sprat Bay (but not a very pleasant pathway). At any rate, spending a night on a very expensive mooring ball and having access to everything in the resort but the swimming pools is really a treat. Like us, you may be persuaded to spend a little extra and stay longer.

Cooper Island…

12/29 – We departed Sprat Harbour at Peter Island for Cooper Island around 09:45, arriving two hours later to pick up one of the last two or three moorings available. We’ve never seen Cooper so crowded. Several boats anchored out beyond the mooring field, and boats wandered through for three more hours hoping (often against hope) to score a mooring ball from some late leaving sailor.

We went ashore and, as is our habit, visited the boutique. Then we sat down at the Cooper Island Beach Club bar and restaurant for drinks. Our Suasa Gold tequila (mine a Margarita, Deb’s a straight shot) that we decided to have another. Meantime, Deb struck up a conversation with Gary Matthews, a charter boat captain from St. Vincent who had sailed up his charges from St. Vincent and the Grenadines in two days. He got into the charter business in St. Vincent with a small little company a decade ago, after getting a “mechanical engineering” degree from the local college. He was picked up by Sunsail, where he worked for several years, going over to Greece and Turkey with them in the off-season, and getting his captain’s certificate in Trinidad. Two years ago an Italian fellow started J T Charters in St. Vincent – vacnaze da sogno ai caraibi. Gary went with them, and since the company also has a base in Nanny Cay, he makes an appearance here now and again.

We had such a good time, we yet had another round, finally leaving shortly after Gary returned to his boat and see to his charges plans for dinner. When we arrived at the dinghy dock, lo and behold, our dinghy was not there. Deb had secured it very well, and we could only guess that someone had mistakenly taken it. Then Deb saw it up on the beach, and a sunbather told us it had just washed up, all in good condition, though with a little water in it. With the fellow’s help, we launched her and got back to the boat safely.

We had a snack dinner aboard Syros and then spent a very rolly night at Cooper.

Our day’s sail was 7 nm; 6.2 kts max. speed.

Leverick Bay…

12/30-01/02 – After one unpleasant night at Cooper, we decided to push ahead to the east end of Virgin Gorda Island and to the Leverick Bay Resort, where we had just made New Year’s Eve dinner reservations. This was a good day of sailing. We departed at 08:45 and arrived at 13:15, sailing 22.3 nm at an average speed of 5.1 kts and a max. speed of 9.6 kts.

Soon after our arrival, we made the obligatory trip into the boutique at Leverick Bay, which is one of several “Pusser’s Rum” boutiques in the BVI. I found a great pair of shorts and a really colorful lightweight shirt, and Deb found a spiffy necklace. Good thing we have an expandable suitcase for the return trip the end of February.

All the shopping made us hungry, so we split a 10 oz. burger and had some deep-fried calamari before returning to the boat for a relaxing evening. And, it was relaxing – calm waters and gentle breezes allowed us a good, long nights sleep.

We awakened New Years Eve faced with the task of replenishing provisions at the Leverick Bay Market. First we decided to take a walk, and walked about two miles up overlooking the harbor. Truly a beautiful view – of Saba Rock and the Bitter End as well as out to Anageda, which when we got high enough, we could see clearly.

Then we went marketing for a case of drinking water (1.5 ltr. bottles), some perishables, and a couple of other items we were running short on, picked up two bags of ice from the harbor master, and dinghied it all back to the boat.

After lunch we had hoped to take a long dinghy ride to Biras Creek, up by the Bitter End, but the wind waves were really up, so after getting a bit wetter than we’d planned, we ended up at the beach bar having a strawberry daiquiri. Deb signed up for a facial and foot massage at the spa, where she could also get showered and dressed to the nines for our New Year’s Eve dinner at the resort restaurant.

New Year’s Eve was great fun. We imbibed, danced, ate heartily – great sea bass and a top rate steak, though not quite as elegant as Peter Island Resort – and returned to the boat satiated at 11:30. No fireworks to watch, but lots of youngsters blowing horns and using other sundry noise makers.

Settling weather arrived on the first day of January 2008. We languished aboard Syros and eventually climbed in the dinghy and set off for The Fat Virgin Restaurant at Biras Creek. It was crowded when we arrived, but we recognized a couple we’d met at the fuel dock at Leverick Bay. They were waiting a table, chatting with the people leaving and waved at us.

At that moment, the man leaving the table dropped his credit card down between the decks slats and into the water below. It seemed like minor pandemonium erupted. A somewhat over-beveraged woman at an adjacent table began a boisterous and unending prattle of advice, bad jokes, and general obnoxiousness. Deb got so immersed in looking for the card along with the man that the loud-mouth immediately decided Deb was the fellow’s wife. The man’s son finally went into the water and managed to find retrieve the card. Photographs all round, with loud-mouth yelling at me that I was blocking her photographic angle.

At last we sat down and enjoyed a great lunch with the couple we’d met at Leverick Bay. They sailed an Alden 46 sloop and were leaving that night for St. Martin. We chatted about weather, retirement, our mutual love of boats, and life in general. A lovely lunch, and then it was off to the boutique and finally the long dinghy ride back to our boat.

We got back to Leverick Bay around 17:45, spent the evening at the beach bar and at dinner – not nearly as good a dinner as New Year’s Eve – and decided to top off fuel and water first thing in the morning and then sail to Anegada.

Anegada...

01/02-01/04 – At 07:00 we hung fenders, put out dock lines, dropped our mooring, motored over to the fuel dock. The harbor master was due to arrive until 08:00, so we made coffee and relaxed until, per Island Time, he finally arrived. At 09:15, fueled, watered, and iced, we embarked for Anegada. The forecast called for about 15 knot trades out of the northeast and 4 to 6 foot seas. By the weekend a front was scheduled to come in and a northerly swell to build, but that was three days away.

It was a beautiful sail. I had plotted the course to the entrance into Setting Point on Anegada carefully on the Raymarine C-80 chart plotter, but as things often happen on boats the plotter simply register “no data.” But I had my back-up Garmin 76X GPS, so I put the waypoint in it and punched go-to, and we went flawlessly to the spot. Overall we sailed 14.9 nm at an average 5.5 knots (8.9 max.) and made it into the setting point anchorage in 2:50 hours.

All the mooring balls were occupied, so we dropped anchor among perhaps 40 boats – the anchorage was crowded. She set quickly and almost before we could say we’re here, Sam (“the Man”) arrived by small skiff to urge us to have the obligatory Anegada lobster dinner at his little place, The Whistling Pine Restaurant & Bar. It’s not in our favorite guide book, Exploring the Virgin Islands by Joe Russell and Mark Bunzel, and almost an afterthought in the more well-known cruising guide, but Sam’s smile had us hooked (his lobster was only $50 compared to his competitors’ $60), so we signed up for 19:00.

Anegada is a new island for us. It’s a twelve mile long, three mile wide almost entirely flat piece of real estate protected almost on all sides by one of the world’s longest barrier reefs. The beaches are stunningly beautiful, the island landscape itself unremarkable. It’s only a few miles north of Virgin Gorda, but so flat you cannot see it at sea level until your about five miles out. Our exploration of it started with the inevitable boutique’s – Sue’s and the Anegada Reef Hotel – and a walk down the beach that took us to Sam and the Whistling Pines Restaurant.

Sam “the Man” is a charmer. Deb says he has the best smile she’s seen in the Caribbean. He welcomed us, served us drinks, and then described the whole operation. Whistling Pines (named after the Australian pine tree planted along the shoreline) is owned by Dervin, a quiet local fellow. Sam is the bartender, principal cook, and, clearly, the public relations director. Dervin’s son Keet works in the evenings along with other family members.

Sam took us along with him to the dock, when he went to harvest the lobsters for that night’s meal. Local lobstermen trap lobster on the reef and sell them to the restaurants, which keep them fresh in lobster cages in the waters just off their property. Sam hauled in a cage and pulled out about twenty small to medium lobsters, throwing them into a plastic garbage can. He hauled the can up to the dock and systematically killed each lobster using a machete. Then he split them and cleaned them, put them back into the can with seawater and perhaps a pint of vinegar. When all were cleaned he stirred up the can, drained off the seawater and vinegar mixture, and we carried the can back up to the kitchen. (Click here for photos of Sam and his lobsters)

That was sufficient for us, and we bid goodbye until later that evening, returning to the boat for a rest. When all were cleaned he stirred up the can, drained off the seawater and vinegar mixture, and we carried the can back up to the kitchen. That was sufficient for us, and we bid goodbye until later that evening, returning to Syros for a rest until it was time to go in for dinner.

At 19:00 we returned for a drink and our lobster dinner. Sam cooked everything in closed top barbecues made from 30 gallon barrels, and dinner was served on the beach. It was amazingly good, which was a real treat because we’d heard from other cruisers that, while lobster was the thing at Anegada, it was overpriced and not that good. It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth the price. Sweet and served with the best baked potatoes we’d seen in a long time, we couldn’t have been more pleased and give Whistling Pines the highest recommendation!

We spent a full day exploring the island on January 3^rd, the principle exploration being a three mile walk around the west end to Cow Wreck Bay. Three miles is not too bad a walk, but we hadn’t taken into account that we’d be walking in the sun on a sandy road the whole way. We were really tired when we arrived at Cow Wreck Bar and Grill. Something to drink, some wonderful Conch Cerviche, and a really good burger got us revived. Nevertheless, we caught ride back to Setting Point, and spent the late afternoon and evening on Syros.

Wiling time away…

In Wind and the Willows, Water Rat says about being a boat person: “Nothing really seems to matter; that’s the charm of it.” We pass time by doing little chores, cooking meals, lolling about on deck or below decks. I write a bit, Deb has gone over her notes for her novel. We do crosswords together, although lately Deb has become addicted to them. I read.

We’ve been gone three weeks and I’m into my fourth book. The first, a novel about World War II, was alright, the second about French refugees from German occupation in the late 1930s was intense. I decided to turn to books dealing with sailing and cruising that I’d brought along with me.

Perhaps my favorite book about the Caribbean is Herman Wouk’s Don’t Stop the Carnival. At Cooper Island, I saw Julian Putley’s Sunfun Calypso, about a British husband and wife who charter in the Caribbean and end up buying the charter company and its hotel. It’s clearly inspired by Wouk’s novel, which put me off a bit at first, but Putley is a good writer and the story was a fun read. I’d recommend it for sailors who’ve chartered, especially in the Caribbean.

I just completed Jerry L. Mashaw and Anne U. MacClintock’s Seasoned by Salt: A Voyage in Search of the Caribbean. I hadn’t expected much of it, just another cruising story by a couple who’d done it. But this is a truly lovely book, filled with human emotion, life reflection, as well as sailing. The author’s, one a Yale law professor and the retired from being counsel for a state regulatory bureau, bring a truly intelligent flair to the telling of what could be a pretty commonplace story of cruising. You’ll learn a lot about the Caribbean and its history that you probably didn’t know, and you’ll find yourself reflecting on lots of little philosophical questions as well as marveling at the author’s adventures. This is a must read for anyone contemplating cruising or for anyone who wants to live vicariously!

Back to Virgin Gorda Sound…

01/04-01/07 – We left Anegada on a lovely sailing day, with winds at about 12-15 knots on the beam and swells of no more than four feet. We could have stayed another day, but we knew a front was scheduled to come in that night with a shift to a northern swell over the weekend, so we decided not to stay and perhaps stay longer than we wanted.

We sailed the 15.9 nm in three hours, averaging 5 kts. and reaching a max. of 8 kts., and took a mooring up in front of Saba Rock, which turns out belonged to the Bitter End Yacht Club.

The mooring fields were scarcely half full. Looks like Friday after the New Year, a slew of charters ended and people went home. For the next couple of days we’ve enjoyed walking on the Bitter End grounds, had a couple of really great pizzas at the Bitter End Pub, done all the boutiques, and otherwise relaxed. It rained steadily the night of the 5^th and morning of the 6^th, so we hunkered down in the boat, read and did some photo sorting, writing, and internet browsing. The rain let up enough for a late afternoon stroll and then drinks and dinner at Saba Rock.

Cane Garden Bay…

01/07-01/11 – Monday morning…we dropped our mooring at motored out of the mooring field and began to raise the main. I had shaken out the second reef, and as the main went up (something I cannot see from my position cranking under the dodger and bimini) Deb saw that the main billowing out from the mast. Oops! The sail slugs had come out of the track and one was missing.

I found the missing sail slug on the foredeck, lowered the main, and rethreaded the sail slugs into the mast slot. The stopper had slipped down, and the sail and come out when we’d taken it down after coming in from Anegada.

Soon we were on our way, motor sailing (mostly motoring) to Cane Garden Bay on the north side of Tortola. We arrived around 13:30, after covering the 20 nm at average speed of 5.5 kts. There were few boats in the mooring field, as the north swell had just shifted to an eastern swell over night, so we easily found a favorable mooring just a hundred meters off the dinghy dock.

Cane Garden has become one of our favorite spots. The long curving white sand beach can be crowded with land-based visitors, particularly when the cruise ships are in at Roadtown and people are bussed over for an outing, but it is lovely still, with palm trees and colorful buildings. One looks west out of the bay, and the sunsets are among the best you’ll get at a BVI anchorage. And, there are lots of amenities: a number of restaurants, beach bars, and, of course, boutiques; a small Bobby’s market for resupplying and a spot just a few meters from the dingy dock that sells block as well as crushed ice; and since this August there is a nice little refurbished fueling dock, to which one can also tie up for the night, for a fee of course. Also not to be missed is Callwoods, the historic rum distillery at the south end of mainstreet through town.

We enjoy taking a walk in the late mornings, which always involves a steep climb up one of the roads leading to the hills that surround the bay. There are many homes and some lovely large villas perched on the overlooking hillsides, and the views are truly spectacular.

After our walks we generally eat lunch ashore. Perhaps the best lunch place is the Big Banana Holding Company’s Paradise Club (but the ribs really aren’t as good as advertised), which is just between Quito’s at the end of the dinghy dock and Rhymer’s. A little farther south down the beach is Stanley’s Welcome Beach Bar, which like Rhymer’s, which is only a little less worn out than Rhymer’s. Stanley’s is rumored to be the spot where Jimmy Buffet wrote “Cheeseburgers in Paradise" - the paradise part is superb, but Buffett must have been very hungry that day - or, as other rumors have it, he wrote it at Village Cay in Roadtown - equally pedestrian food.

As the sun sets, live music begins at Myett’s, just south of Stanley’s. Kareem, a member of the Rhymer family, opened Myett’s hotel, boutique, and restaurant fifteen years ago, naming it after his brother. We met Kareem on an afternoon visit to Myett’s, and when he found out we live in the San Francisco Bay Area, he lit up in conversation, reminiscing about living in San Francisco in the 1970s and 1980s – the shooting of Harvey Milk, Diane Feinstein and Willy Brown as mayors, the price of real estate, his working on the Southern Pacific Railroad and in the City.

That evening we returned to have dinner and to hear Clem, our taxi driver of that day and owner of a little restaurant called Clem’s Place in Carrot Bay, play the steel drums with his son Ian. They were really wonderful, and not appreciated nearly enough by the tourist audience, who clearly would have preferred listening to "Kap-Eye," a Jimmy Buffett impersonator who also had been playing at Happy Hour the day before. We also met Valerie, who came to the islands to work for the Moorings twenty years ago, and met and married Kareem.

Clem and Ian had driven us over to Long Bay during the day in his taxi, and recommended we have lunch at Sebastian’s By the Sea, which we did and both agreed was some of the best food we’ve had in the islands. Deborah’s conch salad had the sweetest fresh conch we’ve yet found – why would anyone put batter on conch and destroy it as a fritter? – and I had probably the best chicken roti I’ve ever eaten. Moreover, we ate beyond the din of tourist music and peacefully on the shaded deck perched over the beach at Long Bay.

After our fine lunch, we walked a hundred meters back up the road to Tortola’s famous Bomba Shack (Steve Hendrickson's song "The Bomba Shack" is about it), where Clem agreed to pick us up later. Truly a shack, a local called Bomba started building it from scraps in 1976 and gradually has expanded it into a fairly large place. It’s perched over the water on one side of the road, and on the other has another building constructed of scrap wood and metal. One cannot sail there, as the surge and surf at Long Harbor has no good anchorage, but people come from all over the island in the evenings to drink and party there, particularly on the night of the full moon, when Bomba throws an all night party with live music. And gals are wont to leave behind a pair of panties or a bra hanging from the rafters, our take off their tops and pose with Bomba for a free T-shirt.

On Friday we went in for a walk, after lolling about aboard Syros for most of the day. We stopped at Stanley's Welcome Bar for a drink, and got to talking with a couple from Alberta, Canada. John and Lynda Fuller have been coming to Cane Garden Bay since the mid-1990s, and always stay in one of the villas operated by Stanley. They suggested we have dinner at Stanley's, so we met later for what turned out to be a super lobster and rib dinner, after which we walked over to Myett's, next door, to have a nightcap and to listen to M.J. Blues, my favorite BVI singer.

We clearly love Cane Garden Bay. The first night on our mooring was very roily, and Deb awakened to suggest we leave and go over to Foxy’s Taboo on Jost van Dyke, just about three nm away. But as the day went on, we decided to stay, and soon found we didn’t notice the rolling. One day turned into to two, then three, and then four, five, and six. More books read, many more crossword puzzles, walks, margaritas with lunch, and lovely sunsets. Very hard to leave….

Jost Van Dyke…

01/12-01/14 – We motor-sailed under the jib to Manchioneel Bay – 4.15 nm in 50 minutes – and took up a mooring just inside Diamond Cay off Little Jost Van Dyke. This is home to one of our favorite BVI spots: Foxy’s Taboo. It’s incredibly quiet here, especially in the late mornings after charterers on their one-week or ten-day forced march from island to island have departed for the next point on their itinerary and before their brethren a day behind have reached us.

Foxy’s Taboo is an attractive little restaurant-bar-boutique complex with a nice dock to welcome day trippers who come over for lunch in motor boats from as far away as the Bitter End and as close as Cane Garden Bay. They have the best cold calamari appetizer we’ve ever had – not quite a ceviche but close, wonderfully balanced in spices – and I think their lunchtime lamb kabobs on pita bread is also the best in the islands. Their boutique is also one of the better ones, although it’s hard to say there is a really good boutique anywhere in the BVI.

Speaking of bests, some of the other “bests” for the BVI are: best restaurant in the BVI – The Tradewinds, Peter Island Resort; best anchorages – Great Harbour, Peter Island, and Manchioneel Bay, Jost Van Dyke; best place to hang out – Cane Garden Bay; best Anegada beach bar and restaurant – Whispering Pines; best Bushwacker – Myett’s, Cane Garden Bay and the One Love Bar, White Bay, Jost Van Dyke; best lobster – Stanley’s Welcome Beach Bar & Restaurant, Cane Garden Bay; best pizza – The Pub at the Bitter End, Virgin Gorda; best ribs – The Pub at Fort Burt, Roadtown, Tortola; best sail on a good day – Gorda Sound to Anegada (either way); best Thai food – The Fat Cat Thai Restaurant, Roadtown; best coozies – Ivan’s Stress Free Bar, White Bay, Jost Van Dyke ; best spa – Peter Island Resort; best sunsets - Cane Garden Bay.

Other firsts (or lasts, depending on one’s point of view) include: cheapest charters – Conch Charters (you get what you pay for); most expensive charters – the Moorings and Sunsail (you don’t always get what you pay for); most mosquitos – Myett’s, Cane Garden Bay and Ivan’s Stress Free Bar, White Bay, Jost Van Dyke…. We can add to this over time.

Rather than sail around the island to anchor in the always crowded Great Harbour or in White Bay, where holding is not so good, we decided to take Frankie’s taxi from Foxy’s Taboo to White Bay for an afternoon. White Bay is the destination du jour for day trippers and their motor boats from both the U.S. and the British Virgin Islands. They back them up along the beautiful white sand beach, planting a Danforth or Fortress anchor up on the beach and then spend the day sunbathing and drinking at the numerous beach bars. It’s the gathering place for the young and beautiful people, along with a smattering of cruisers.

White Bay is home to the Soggy Dollar, so named because in its early years, patrons would swim in from their boats and pay for drinks with soggy currency. There is still no dinghy dock in White Bay, so wet currency probably still changes hands, but the Soggy Dollar is pretty upscale these days. Less upscale is the One Love, located at the west end of the beach. And at the far, east end of the beach, which you must cross a rocky out point to get to, is Ivan’s Stress Free Bar. Ivan is a great island singer and guitar player whose good friend is country music singer Kenny Chesney and with whom Ivan has played concerts in Atlanta and elsewhere. It is truly a relaxed place, but for the mosquitoes – wear lots of 100% Deet repellent.

On our second day at Manchioneel Bay, we went on a shell gathering trip along the reef shore that separates Jost Van Dyke and Little Jost Van Dyke, and then we walked lazily over to the Bubbly Pool, where the waves wash into a little rounded basin creating a natural sort of whirl pool bath. We lingered there until a couple of parties of people arrived, and then we hiked up the rocks to the blow hole – only a few people seem to know about it, and we aren’t telling. It’s remarkable – as Deb says, we can hear the earth breathing there.

Cane Garden Bay again…

01/14-01/15 –

In order to vote in the upcoming California primary election on February 5^th, we went to a lot of trouble to persuade our county’s registrar of voters to email us our ballots – our address on the ballots is British Virgin Islands, c/o BVI Yacht Charters, St Thomas, USVI. The ballots were to be faxed on January 11^th, so we decided to sail back to Cane Garden Bay, where internet access is easy, to receive them. So, we sailed over on the jib in the morning (one hour, 4.16 nm, 4 kts average).

Lo and behold, the ballots had arrived by email, and we printed them out on Deb’s little Canon printer. We’ll vote and then FAX them back to the registrar later this week, when we go into Roadtown to extend our BVI visas.

Having a computer and wireless internet access has changed our cruising experience. When we first started chartering, it was a total escape from the world – no work, no worries, just let things go. But we were only gone for at most three weeks, and we did have the luxury of working cell phones should emergencies crop up. But being gone for almost ten weeks is a different story; we couldn’t just leave the world behind – Deb’s got family issues and the family business, I’ve got some essays to review and conference paper proposals to look at in order to meet deadlines, and we both want to keep up a bit on our investments.

We thought all this would be a bit hard, but with free wireless internet access at most large anchorages that we can access from the boat (with our nifty Engenius antenna) and with Skype to make phone calls home at two cents a minute, staying in touch and handling business matters is a breeze.

Meantime, we’re again enjoying Cane Garden Bay immensely. We had a couple of good sundowner Margaritas at Stanley’s Welcome Bar and ended up staying for a rib dinner – scrumptious. Then on our way down the beach to our dinghy, we got waylaid by the sounds of MJ Blues at the Big Banana Holding Company’s Paradise Bar, so we danced ourselves silly for almost two hours. When we finally got back to the boat, Deb was so tired; she fell asleep in the cockpit, sawing ZZZs until 02:00.

We decided to spend yet a couple of more days here, giving us a chance to clean out our refrigerator/freezer and stock it with block ice, buy and barbecue some chicken thighs that we’ll give us more than just one meal, walk up our favorite hills, and relax at the beach bars and on the boat and watch the world of charter cruisers and local life go by.

We get a particularly joy watching charter cruisers coming in to pick up moorings, often at high speed, then jamming the boat in reverse, the person on the bow (usually a slip of a girl) trying mightily to tame the mooring pennant with their boat hook while being berated by the hot-rod helmsperson (most often the “guy”) for not smoothly picking it up.

Deb is very good at driving the boat up to a mooring, inching in the last few feet, while I direct her with hand signals as to the mooring ball’s location and to her direction and speed. Only once and a great while do we have to make a second pass at a mooring ball; we’ve become pretty good at it, and yelling is a thing of the past.

We also get a real kick out of how many people can pile into a dinghy to go ashore. I believe we’ve counted ten, and we’ve often seen nine. The gunnels are close to the water, and usually the driver is putting along a mighty good rate of speed. But somehow they all seem to make it back alive, and I can’t say that we’ve ever seen anybody go (pardon the pun) in the drink. The gods of the sea truly must look after these novices.

I got the chance to finish another wonderful sailing book, Cruising at Last: Sailing the East Coast, a collection of essays by Elliott Merrick. His essays encompass several years of sailing on his 20 foot Carinita ocean-going sloop designed by Al Mason in 1952, which he built at his home near Asheville, North Carolina in the late 1960s. He and his wife Kay and later his second wife Patricia, made several trips on his little sloop Sunrise between North Carolina and Maine. His essays written over the years about various parts of these several voyages were finally compiled by Upton Brady, and they recount the boat building and sailing education of the remarkably talented Merrick. It’s such a treat to read the work of a truly fine author, and I savored Cruising at Last over several days.

Roadtown and immigration…

01/17-01/19 –

Late morning, we at last left Cane Garden Bay and sailed 22.5 miles to Roadtown in 4:45 minutes (average of 4.8 kts.; max. of 8 kts). By the time we refueled at BVI Yacht Charters and got into a slip for the night, it was after 17:00 and we were bushed, so we changed clothes and around 19:00 sat down at Spaghetti Junction for a drink and dinner. We were surprised how much the sail had taken out of us, but at least three-and-a-half hours had been beating upwind in 20 knots plus through the Sir Francis Drake Channel from the west end of Tortola to Roadtown. We were still rocking during dinner.

The next day we had to go to immigration to renew our visas for two weeks. I suppose we should have guessed it would take the whole day, but nobody warned us and we ignored whatever signals we might have picked up during our stay. We arrived at 10:00 to find about 90 people at the tiny office that houses labor and immigration. We picked a number (44). Number 91 was showing on the two-digit electronic counter, and we soon discovered the counter didn’t move quickly. By noon the counter was to 99. I’d held our place while Deb went to reschedule a hair appointment to January 30^th and get something to eat at Bobby’s Market. Then around 13:00, she held our place while I went to a little restaurant and picked up a ham-and-cheese sandwich for lunch.

The flow of people in and out not only seemed snail-paced, but rather than just following the numbers, the immigration officers would come out and call people in by name. After talking with others in the line (mostly immigrants from the Caribbean who live and work in the BVIs), we discovered that these were people who had gone to labor first to renew their work permits, the paperwork for which was then carried over to immigration by labor. We also discovered that virtually everyone who went in by numbers came back out and then waited to be called in by name again to see the immigration officer. And, a friendly local explained that the office would only allow as many numbers as they felt they could handle during the day to be given out, and around 14:00 this was confirmed when an official came out and took away the number dispenser (it was at about 65 by then).

Number 44 was called a little after 16:00. We went in and the window official took our passports and our entry/exit cards and airline tickets for exiting the country; then she said: where are your airline tickets for entering the BVI? We explained that the airport immigration officer had told us the three items we’d given her were the only things we needed to bring to extend our visas. Back and forth, and finally…okay, wait outside until you’re called.

Twenty minutes later we were called back and into the immigration officer’s office. A very nice and friendly fellow, he apologized profusely for the system, saying they’d tried all sorts of ways to speed it up, put part of the blame on the labor office, generally blamed “bureaucracy,” and finally extended our stay.

We were exhausted, and decided to go to the Village Cay restaurant for a drink and something to eat (they serve what they claim is Jimmy Buffett’s cheeseburger in paradise), where I ended up having a mediocre calamari dish and the worst Margarita ever in the islands. We had hoped to leave Roadtown that afternoon, but we still had to go to the market for some provisions, which we finally did, returning to the boat around 19:00.

Next morning we slept in, topped off the water tanks, made a second short provisioning trip to the market, got some ice and finally escaped around 13:00 for Great Harbour on Peter Island – we made the 4 nm in a little over an hour, hitting 7.3 knots on just the jib in the 20-25 knot breeze.

Great Harbour, Peter Island…

01/19-01/22 –

We had picked up a five-day weather report on the 18^th at BVI Yacht Charter, and it was clear that things were changing, for it reported increasingly higher winds (19-24 knots climbing to 22-27 knots on January 22^nd) and swells (5-7 feet climbing to 5-8 feet ). As for rain possibilities, it reminded me of the San Francisco Chronicle’s local weather predictions during the summer: morning fog then sun, fog then clearing, sun after morning fog…. This report said: scattered showers, isolated showers, scattered showers then isolated showers.

We got our first squall not long after we’d secured our mooring at Great Harbour just of the new Oceans Seven Beach Club. But things lifted and we decided to go into the beach bar for a drink and lunch. It was crowded (there was a small cruise ship in the bay), and although the cruise ship was running a private party, the local staff agreed to cook us a burger. Another downpour came and went, and we went for a walk, along the way meeting four other charterers with whom we struck up a conversation, found we had much in common (all retired teachers), and ended up spending the rest of the afternoon with.

Oceans Seven was roasting a pig on a spit out back and planning a big buffet – salads, mahi-mahi, chicken, short-ribs and Caribbean spiced veggies, steamed veggies, roast pig, veggie lasagna, and deserts – all for $28 a head. We all made a reservation for 19:00.

If you’re familiar with the BVI, then certainly you’ve gone to the Bight at Norman Island. The Pirate’s Bight Restaurant used to be a really funky and lively place – names written all over the walls, burgees, t-shirts, and flags hanging – and the staff was really lively, especially Jason, who managed the bar and, with great flare, made the best Pina Coladas and Bushwackers anywhere. He was an icon there for several years, but this year he was gone and a not-to-humble New York twenty-something who called himself one of the top “mixologists” in the world ran the bar (yech).

Well, lo and behold, who arrives in late afternoon behind the bar at Oceans Seven? Yep, Jason! Turns out he left the Pirates Bight after the owners changed the mood and started bringing in New York mixologists (who he said he had to train), and after he was asked if he’d manage this new spot. So, we figured the dinner buffet would be great, and we knew the drinks were. None of us were disappointed. It was among the best buffets we’ve ever had, and the price was generously reasonable. And we were glad we got there at 19:00, for an hour later 50 Israeli charterers from the Sea-Gal Yacht Club, who were on six catamarans, came in, cleaned up the buffet, and soon were doing great Israeli dances.

Our friends, Joe and Cathy and Mike and Barbara, turned out not only to be retired teachers (secondary, elementary and community college level), but good sailors and great conversationalists. They all hail from Burt, New York, near Niagara. Joe sails a 34 foot Irwin, and Mike has a slightly smaller Irwin, and they belong to the Olcott Yacht Club, which sounds as lively as our Encinal Yacht Club in Alameda. Joe and I also found another commonality in that we both are musicians – him guitar, me piano – and love playing gigs. We finally ended the evening with promises to keep in touch.

Next morning, Joe and Mike dinghied over to Syros, and I gave them a ration of Stugeron for seasickness (Barbara was having a hard time), and then a bit later we bid them fair winds as they headed off toward Marina Cay. Some of the day was a beautiful one for sailing, but lazily, we decided to sit aboard and do crosswords and read. We probably should have taken a short sail, for late afternoon brought showers, then a good sized lightning and thunder storm followed by steady rain (“scattered showers…then isolated showers”). We just hunkered down and felt really sorry for those charterers (like Joe, Cathy, Mike and Barbara) who are just here for this week.

The rain came pretty steadily for two days, finally letting up a bit on Monday afternoon. I bailed the dinghy – perhaps 15 gallons of water – and we went in for dinner at Oceans Seven around 18:00. Not too many people were there, but all were friendly and we hooked up with Matt and Sasha, a couple of thirtysome Brits who had left home in November and crewed on an 1888 gaff rigged wooden boat across the Atlantic to St. Lucia as part of the annual Arc rally. They had managed to make their way up from St. Lucia to Antigua, spending Christmas along the way in Bequia in the Grenadines, and then flew into the BVIs where they decided to charter a little 322 Beneteau from the Moorings for a week. They’d had quite an adventure, about which they were pleasantly modest.

Another Peter Island Resort visit…

01/22-01/24 –

Next morning the sun came out a bit and we decided to visit Peter Harbour Resort again. We motored over and I had to get in the dinghy to pick up a mooring that had no pick-up line attached to it. In the process I lost a hat in the wind, which sank like a lead balloon, but we settled in well enough. Deb got a massage, and we had another great dinner at the Tradewinds Restaurant. We wiled away a second day and ended up having dinner at the resort’s beach bar restaurant. The weather finally turned for good, and we decided to go up to Marina Cay and then on down to our favorite spot, Cane Garden Bay.

Marina Cay…

01/24-01/26 –

We sailed 11.5 nm to Marina Cay in three hours, tacking across to Tortola at a point just south of Beef Island, then over toward Cooper, and then back to Marina Cay. It was an okay sail, but the channel was pretty choppy and our average speed was not much more than 4.1 kts.

Marina Cay, home to one of the three Pusser’s bars restaurants in the BVIs, was almost empty when we arrived around noon on Thursday. We had a good rib lunch ashore, enjoyed our crosswords and lounging about, and we happy to just relax on the boat. I’ve been avoiding a lot of walking and snorkeling because of an infected blister on a toe, and Deb has been taking it easy as well, though she complains about it more than I do.

Cane Garden Bay revisited…

01/26-01/27 –

There really isn’t much to do at Marina Cay unless one sunbathes or snorkels, so to avoid boredom, we departed for Cane Garden Bay early on Saturday morning (it was Saturday, we think). We motor sailed with the jib the entire way, as the wind was very light, covering the 9.71 nm quickly. It was a lovely day, and the bay was virtually empty of sailboats. We enjoyed lunch ashore and then watched the mooring field fill up. That night we chose to nibble on board. We were going to go in and hear some music, but Deb was feeling poorly so we stayed and read aboard.

The night was quite something. We went to our bunks at about 21:30 and fell asleep to the music of Quito and his band. But around 23:00 Quito’s DJ started spinning and the music got louder and louder…until 02:00 or so…almost unbearable. Then, perhaps an hour after the music ended, a northern swell started building in and the boat responded with a lot of rolling. I finally got up at 06:45, unable to tolerate it, and by 07:30, Deb was up and we agreed to drop the mooring and go around to Soper’s Hole on Tortola’s West End. As we motored out of Cane Bay, we saw a surfer riding the eight to ten foot waves on the east edge of the bay. Later that day, I discovered on the NOAA site that a six to eight foot northern swell was to last for about a week.

Soper’s Hole…

01/27-01/28 –

We’ve always avoided Soper’s Hole because it’s a crowded stop. We thought we might visit when we were thinking of going over to the U.S. Virgins for a week, because we’d have to check out of the BVIs there. But our immigration office experience dissuaded us from going to the USVI.

Now, however, we had the chance to come in. It only took us a little over an hour to motor over from Cane Garden Bay – again no wind – and we arrived at 09:00. There were several moorings, and we took one just off Pusser’s Landing.

We had left without breakfast, so we went in and had our first real restaurant breakfast in a month at Pisces restaurant, then did some shopping at boutiques and at the market, got ice, and returned later for a light lunch at Pusser’s, where we listened to a nice steel drum band. Deb found a couple of portraits of local women by an elderly local artist and couldn’t resist them, so she splurged. I confined myself to a couple of really lightweight shirts.

I’ve been talking about getting a boat of my own here, perhaps in time for next year’s winter season, and when Deb decided to go for a walk while I listened to the steel band, I suggested she find me one on the docks. Lo and behold, she came back and said: “I’ve found it.” She struck up a conversation with some folks on the dock who spend winters taking care of boats in the BVI, and they were caring for a 1989 Freedom 45 center cockpit (a Gary Mull and Gary Hoyt design boat), which was for sale and up in Spanishtown on Virgin Gorda. One almost like it was on the docks (an aft cockpit version), and I went back with her to look at it and talk with the folks. Later I checked Yachtworld.com and found three or four for sale in Florida and California and found the one they were caring for. Maybe it’s a bit premature, but looking was fun.

Back to Roadtown...

01/29-01/31 - We left Soper's Hole and sailed 10.9 nm up to Roadtown and into BVI Yacht Charters. We spent the next 24 hours aboard Syros, packing up our belongings and preparing for the next leg of our trip to the Leewards. Deb had a hair appointment, I stopped by a yacht broker and chatted, and we generally took it easy. We spent the next two nights at the Fort Burt Hotel, and we confirmed that the Cullinary Academy ended its lease with the hotel about two months ago. That was a loss, and so was the quality of food at the hotel. The Pub, across the street, became our breakfast place as well as dinner, and we spent our penultimate night dancing to M.J. Blues and having ribs.

For more photos

Revisiting the BVI...

2007-04-10T17:39:00.000-07:00

We’ve decided that we’ve got three homes: our land homes, our sailboats, and the Caribbean. And, especially, we just can’t get enough of the Caribbean, particularly when it’s cold and rainy in northern California, so we flew off to the British Virgin Islands again for two weeks over Spring break.

3/23 - Our flight across country has almost become routine. We’re up at 05:00, taxi to the airport, fly to Dallas-Fort Worth, then Puerto Rico, and then Tortola where we taxi to the Fort Burt Hotel. It’s all fast food, because our layovers are short, but we know at the end of the flight that Sharon, Buxton, Bastille and others at the Fort Burt will be there to greet us. When we start calling the flight attendants by name we’ll know it’s truly routine.

3/24 - Saturday was check-in and provisioning day. At Conch Charters we discovered that we’d fouled up our timing and missed the sleep-aboard scheduled for the night of our arrival. No problem, we’ll just take things on island time.

We strolled into town, passing the site of the new Queen Elizabeth II Park, conveniently located across from the main government building. Our main goal was to go to Rite Way for provisioning, but we also had another motive. We’ve already booked for six weeks in the BVI in December/January and wanted to do some planning. Thus, we stopped at the Village Cay Marina so Deb could check out a beauty parlor for next winter, and then we walked another mile or so to Joma Marina, the home of BVI Yacht Charters, with whom we’ve booked Syros, a 2007 Cyclades 43.3 (by Beneteau) for our winter trip. After we’d put faces on the folks with whom we’d been in email contact, we went off to provision for this trip.

Rite Way is a five minute walk from BVI Yacht Charters, so we spent an hour at the market and then caught a taxi back to Conch with our supplies. After putting our perishables on ice and having burgers for lunch at The Pub (the earliest cruisers restaurant in Road Town), we went down to do a pre-charter check on the boat. Here’s where the problems inevitably begin.

“Inevitably” perhaps requires a preface...

Our first charter with Conch in the spring 2006 was wonderful. We got a boat that had only recently come into their charter fleet – Elbereth, a Beneteau 36 – and we had a great experience with her. That led us to book with them again for December, and we got a 40’ Jeanneau for the trip. Unfortunately, this boat was a disaster. Black mold in the V-berth forced us to close it off, a leaking water tank under the V-berth required us to bail out the forward bilge by bucket more than once, and generally poor maintenance frustrated us the entire trip. But, we had already booked Elbereth again for this spring, and we didn’t want to lose the charter completely, so we negotiated a substantial discount because of the problems with the Jeanneau. “We’ll give them another chance,” we thought.

The people at Conch are very nice, but, as we discovered, they’re really a second-tier, maybe even third-tier charter firm, and this shows in the way they maintain their boats. It really showed with the Jeanneau, and it was confirmed completely by this second experience on Elbereth.

Elbereth had been in really good condition in March 2006, but not any more. On our pre-charter inspection we discovered that all the non-fuel filters were clogged (bilge, icebox drain, shower drains, and fresh water), the galley dry storage compartment lid was broken and needed immediate repair, the engine oil was low, the stainless on deck was rusting everywhere, and generally the boat was not very clean. Later when diving the boat at an anchorage, we found a beard of algae on the bottom, little paint left, and gouges into the gel coat. Perhaps worse, on our pre-charter inspection, we discovered the refrigeration cold plate had been removed and not replaced. Of course she was advertised with a refrigeration system, and we were not told of this change prior to arriving.

But, we’re experienced with this sort of thing, and decided it would be a good experience. Since we’d already decided not to buy meat, but to eat vegetarian on the boat and have our meat when we ate ashore, an icebox should be good enough. Conch gave us a cooler and promised all the ice we could pack away, so we loaded up: two blocks in the cooler, four blocks and a bag in the refrigerator (now icebox), and we still managed to get our food stored and put some beer on ice.

Next morning, however, we then discovered that the icebox sump pump was broken. Since we couldn’t drain the icebox without it, we had to have a new pump installed. Trust me, you wouldn’t want Conch keeping up your boat! And, this is why we’ve had it with Conch and will be going with BVI Yacht Charters on our next trip.

3/25 - After a roily night aboard in the marina, Conch’s folks got to work on the new icebox pump. We walked down to Bobby’s Market to get a few things we’d forgotten at Rite Way, got our cooler with more ice, and Conch’s main dock man Miles got us off the docks by 12:30. An hour and a half later we were mooring at Norman Island and heading into shore to have Pina Coladas at the Pirates Bar. We lazed about the afternoon, had snacks aboard for dinner, and were in our bunk but 20:30. Cruising again at last!

3/26 - Our standard mornings begin at about 08:00. I’m often up by 07:00, whereas Deb loves to sleep in, rocked like a baby in the V-berth. I do my best to move about quietly, making coffee for us, and then reading in the cockpit with my first cuppa until Deb arises. Then we have coffee together and I usually cook up a couple of eggs and toast for us. This first day out was no different, and after breakfast we decided to sail up to Cooper Island.

En route, Deb decided to work on developing some on-the-water-and-underway exercises. She is a very active person and truly hates being confined on the boat, even though she's mad about sailing. It's a conflict that brings her close to tears sometimes. Her answer now is to develop an exercise program that she (and others so conflicted) can do underway. Here she is working out one of the exercises, which she will ultimately write-up when she's done.

At Cooper we had lunch aboard, went ashore for a walk on the beach, and then returned for Deb to have a bit of a swim followed by cocktails on the foredeck. The weather was overcast and muggy, but the rain held off. We had a stir-fry dinner aboard, played “If…questions for the game of life” – asking questions such as “If you could make one fairytale or fable come true with yourself in it, which would you pick?” (Fortunately, we have the little book If…(Questions for the Game of Life), so we don’t have to make these up. It’s more fun with a bunch of people than with just two, and we soon tired of it and were sleeping by 21:30, despite the jerk in the cat on the next mooring who ran his genset all night so he could have air-conditioning.

We did see a cruising family at Cooper aboard a Dufour 385 that was carrying a flag we didn’t recognize. It had a web address on the hull (www.sailabout.no) that answered the question for us: Norway. We never met the family, but when we got home I looked up the web site, and discovered that they keep their sailing log online through Mailasail (http://www.mailasail.com) , which offers a web diary with GPS position tracking for cruisers(http://blog.mailasail.com/). This is very cool, a really nice way for cruisers to keep in touch with friends. You should check it out.

3/27 - The skies were overcast again and it was really muggy and the weather report forecasted rain. We headed east toward Gorda Sound, motor sailing with the mainsail only, but the weather worsened. Clearly rain was on the way and since we were going head into the wind, we decided to abort Gorda Sound and head over to Marina Cay. A lot of others must have had the same idea, since when we arrived at 13:00 there were already no mooring balls available. As we started anchoring, the skies opened up. I was on the foredeck in a driving rain, and naturally it would take us three tries to set the anchor. As we dried off, we watched others coming into anchor, most having some trouble holding. One Horizon Charter boat tried some six times to anchor and never got enough scope out to hold. Ultimately, Providence smiled on them, and they picked up a mooring abandoned by someone else.

When the rain lifted, we dinghied into Marina Cay for a drink at the restaurant bar. We met Steve and Emily Imbrogno from Florida at the bar and discovered they were long-time BVI folks. In the 1980s, they sailed over from Florida, lived aboard in Tortola and worked for the Moorings for eight years. Now they try to return every year to visit friends, and this trip decided to charter for a week, something they haven’t done in a long time. The next day we both sailed out for Gorda Sound, and we took photos of each other along the way.

After we left the restaurant bar, we walked up to the “happy hour” bar at the top of Marina Cay, where we met Peter and Maria Schell, who we had anchored next to during the downpour. They were aboard Mama Cocha, their own Concorde 46, a Dutch-made aluminum boat. They left Holland almost six months before, sailed down to Spain, thence via the Azores to Martinique, and finally up the Caribbean chain to St. Martin and finally the BVI. They’re plan is to spend a year in the Caribbean, then go through the Panama Canal, sail to Hawaii, then make the northern loop to Vancouver, B.C., down to San Francisco, and eventually wind up in Australia. We invited them to stay at the Encinal Yacht Club when they arrive in the Bay Area. Hope they do. If you read Dutch you might enjoy their website.

We tried to get a booking for dinner at the restaurant, but we were too late. This week was the 36th BVI Spring Regatta and Sailing Festival, and this combined with the bad weather that kept people at anchor had swamped Marina Cay’s restaurant. No worries, we had music, dancing, and dinner aboard, and were fast asleep by 20:30.

3/28 - After breakfast, I dinghied into the fuel dock for four blocks of ice and two bags of crushed ice, stopping on the way to say hello to our new acquaintances, who were all up on deck enjoying the sunny morning. We repacked the icebox and cooler and weighed anchor for Leverick Bay in Gorda Sound at 10:00. It was a slow and relaxing sail across the Sir Francis Drake Channel toward Virgin Gorda, and we snapped a couple of photos of Steve and Emily on their catamaran along the way. Then we motored sailed the easterly passage to Gorda Sound. In just under five hours we were picking up a mooring at Leverick Bay, which we think is a real hidden treasure.

Most people head to the Bitter End Yacht Club or Saba Rock at the east end of Gorda Sound, which we must admit we had done on previous trips. But we decided to try Leverick Bay this trip, and we weren’t disappointed. The Leverick Bay marina is small but generally a slip seems to be available. There are about twenty moorings, and we found one easily. Cruising guides warn that a northerly swell with good winds can fetch all the way across the sound and into the mooring field, and we discovered on the day we left that this was indeed true. But it was calm while we were there.

We went in to the dock master to pay our mooring fee and then had lunch at the Leverick Bay resort’s beach front restaurant. Very good fish and chips and salads! As we sat down to eat, the skies finally opened up. It poured, and Moskito Island, directly across from us disappeared behind the sheets of rain. We had no choice but to have a couple of drinks each, and Deb found herself giving encouragement to another female sailor on taking the helm when mooring and anchoring (somewhat to the dismay of her husband, I think).

After the rain lifted we wandered around, checking out the resort itself, the boutiques, and finally going to the grocery for some more water and a couple of other items. When we got back to the dinghy, I had to bail 4 inches worth of water from the bottom. The rain didn’t lift for long, though, and it scotched our plan to go back for drinks after dinner (they had a piano in the restaurant, which I thought I might get a chance to play). Deb wasn’t hungry, so she snacked a little and I cooked up a stir-fry for myself and then we sat up until 22:30 or so talking about politics, business practices, and such. When we finally crawled into our bunk, it started raining again and did so for at least four hours.

3/29 – The weather was still pretty poor in the morning. We lazed about, finally finishing breakfast around 10:15, and we watched a mega power yacht, Gallant Lady, pull away from the marina with her passengers and crew of eight. We were sure we saw this same yacht around Norman Island in December. I discovered after our trip that she’s a 172-foot Feadship (a Dutch firm) owned by the JM Family Enterprises, an auto dealer group in Deerfield Beach, Florida, which keeps her in the Virgin Islands during the winter. (They also own four other yachts ranging from 160 feet to 40 feet, each also named "Gallant Lady.") Much of the $2 million yearly expense of owning and operating Gallant Lady is a business write-off, since the family entertains business clients on it. Apparently there are several of these handsome 172-foot yachts around the world.

Once we’d wiped the envy from our chins, we hopped in the dinghy and took a ride over to look at Drake’s Anchorage Resort on Moskito Island. The island is now generally spelled Mosquito, but in fact it was named after the Indians who occupied the Moskito Coast around the Bay of Honduras and Belize, even though it was Arawaks who were on this little island. The resort, built in the 1960s, is now abandoned, but it was the first bar and restaurant for cruisers on Gorda Sound. “Keep off” signs now warn cruisers about coming ashore and trespassing on private property. Frankly, I think the BVI need something like California’s Coastal Commission to protect its beaches and shoreline from being gobbled away by private landholders.

We then decided to dinghy over to Saba Rock, about two miles. About half way there we saw Steve and Emily’s cat – the one we’d taken photos of on the way up the day before. They were leaving the Bitter End and passing Prickly Pear, and we diverted over hoping to intercept them. They recognized us, and we rendezvoused and exchanged emails – at least we’d be able to swap photos – and then they headed off, hoping to make the eleven-mile sail to Anegada that day.

We went on to Saba Rock for lunch, stopped at the Bitter End and picked up some water in their store (they had larger bottles than Leverick Bay’s market), and then returned to Elbereth. We thought we’d try the restaurant again that night, but the menu was really pricey so we decided not to. Prices at restaurants serving boaters have really jumped in the BVI. We tend to eat a couple of appetizers and have a drink or two, and we didn’t get away from places for much under $70, even at lunch. And, honestly, the food is not that good. I think we only had dinner off the boat three times – twice at the Fort Burt Hotel, which is really good and pretty reasonable, and once at Quito’s Gazebo in Cane Garden Bay, which was pretty good but very pricey. The only food we’d really recommend besides the Fort Burt was the baby-back rib appetizer at Marina Cay (expensive but really good), and the lunch menu at Foxy’s Taboo on Jost Van Dyke (the best quality and most reasonably priced food we had).

The afternoon ended with rain, cleared up for cocktail hour, and then rained hard again with occasional lightening all evening. We cooked a veggie stir fry and feasted on goat cheese and crackers and martinis.

3/30 - It became choppy in the mooring field by morning, and after breakfast we decided to get some ice and then motor to Saba Rock to escape the chop at Leverick Bay from the wind waves. The rain was gone, but it the winds were up and the skies threatened all day. About 11:00 we motored over and picked up a mooring, had lunch aboard, read, and figured our expenses so far (we were doing pretty well).

Around 14:00 we dinghied into the Bitter End to take a walk. We found a nice path that took us over to the Biras Creek Resort, a posh place that until recently wouldn’t let anyone but guests on their grounds. But now under new management, we were welcomed, and in fact the general manager, Mike, took us for an hour-long tour of the resort in his electric cart. They’ve got a great secluded beach on a small bay on the Atlantic end of the island, tennis courts, and really nice cottages. It’s expensive, but we were both duly impressed, and it certainly isn’t snooty any more.

As we walked back to the Bitter End, Deb remembered that the little boutique at the Fat Virgin restaurant on the edge of the Biras Creek resort was where she’d bought some beautiful glass fish. So we took the dinghy over, and she found five more of the little darlings to take home with her (now she has a wonderful collection on her dresser at home, which truly sparkle when the sun shines through). We finally returned to Saba Rock and had an early dinner of chicken wings, fries, and Bushwackers (me) and tequila shots (Deb). They have a wonderful tank of fish, lobsters, and eels outside the restaurant, and we spent quite a while watching the them, walked around the little island, returned for two more drinks at the bar, and were asleep in our bunk by 20:30.

3/31 - Our plan today is to go to Anegada. On our first two trips to the BVI, we did not want to hurry on a one-week charter to make it. This time, with two weeks, we decided to put it in our plan as a definite destination. Despite the old adage "red sky in the morning, sailors take warning," the Atlantic storm that brought us rain for almost three days had passed and we decided to push off. But, first, we needed to top off our ice box, so we went ashore for a couple of bags.

At 10:00 we dropped our mooring and departed for Anegada. I put two reefs in the main and reefed the jib. As we came out of the channel into Gorda Sound we found some pretty big seas, but we decided to push on, hoping the NNE winds would become a bit more easterly further along. We made way for an hour, but we were slipping badly. We had at least six to eight foot swells perhaps eight to nine seconds apart, and when on course to Anegada the winds were almost on our nose. The ride was cruddy and slow (about two knots), and if we altered our course to tack our way to Anegada, we’d turn what we’d hoped would be two to three hour sail into a six hour sail. As we were out there, I remembered our first trip to the U.S. Virgins two years ago and the forty mile crossing we made from St. John to St. Croix two days after a storm had come through. The seas were pretty mixed up and we were glad we had a heavy Island Packet 370. In fact the seas didn’t settle down until four days following the storm, when we made an idyllic return crossing. Now we were in similar conditions with mixed up, après-storm seas but in a light-weight Beneteau 36.

Since we’d made a late start and since there was no indication the seas were improving, we decided to bag Anegada and divert toward Savannah Bay on Virgin Gorda. We broad reached there quickly, but decided that the north swell would make Savannah Bay an uncomfortable anchorage, so we tacked starboard for a beam reach ride across to Marina Cay. We were thinking baby-back ribs, which we hadn’t been able to get on our last visit, and we also knew we could get block ice there.

This time we got a mooring just off the reef. We dinghied over to Trellis Bay, about a mile away on Beef Island, just next to the airport serving Tortola. Trellis Bay is a favored anchorage for privately owned cruisers, who come in to re-supply and meet friends coming in to Tortola by air (it’s a five minute walk to the airport terminal). It’s also home to De Loose Mongoose restaurant, which we visited in December by land, and also an art center, cyber café, and a little market. In the center of the bay on a little island is the Last Resort restaurant.

I stupidly took the dinghy onto the reef that juts out from the Last Resort, because I was too busy looking at boats, the shore, the island, and such and not paying attention to the obvious signs that we were heading onto the reef. Thankfully there was damage to the engine prop, and I immediately killed the outboard and raised it up. We paddled our way off into deeper water, restarted the engine, and continued to De Loose Mongoose dock. After an hour or two, we went back to Elbereth, and eventually into the Marina Cay restaurant for drinks and our rib appetizer dinner that night at 20:30. As we were going in, I noticed an Island Packet on a mooring and told Deb that I bet it was Honnah Lee, the IP 370 that we’d chartered with Island Yachts almost two years ago. Lo and behold, at the bar we met two couples who were on the Island Packet and it was indeed Honnah Lee.

Over dinner we started a heavy conversation that consumed the rest of the evening. One of the wonderful things about our cruising trips, indeed about our sailing life together, is that we have really strengthened our relationship. We’ve worked on (if not worked out) all those sorts of relationships issues that couples always have. Sailing has been an important part of our therapeutic life. There have been times when the boat just isn’t big enough for the two of us, but when out at sea there’s no getting away from each other really and we end up working things out. Truly we’ve become much closer because of this.

4/1 - We rolled out of our bunks rather late in the morning, had breakfast, and then went to the fuel dock for a block of ice. As we got ready to depart, thinking we’d go on to Cane Garden Bay on the north shore of Tortola, we listened one more time to the weather report and watched the swell. Winds were already gusting to 25 knots and 30 knot gusts were predicted. The north swell had not abated, and we remembered that Cane Garden Bay is not particularly comfortable in a north swell. Since it was already noon, we decided to bag the trip and stay another day. We went back ashore, ran up to the top of Marina Cay to get some exercise, and then had lunch.

The afternoon sped by. I took advantage of our mooring adjacent to the reef, swam over to snorkel it, and discovered lot’s of fish and even some good coral (one of the problems with the BVI is the fact that so many people are here that the coral on reefs near the most crowded anchorages is dying – I cringe at my driving the dinghy on to the Trellis Bay reef). Meanwhile, Deb spent the afternoon writing. I read on our trips (this trip four or five books), and Deb writes just as much. She’s working on a novel and also is developing a couple of sailing articles. This day she worked on a short piece she’s going to call “Mooring Sense,” which is based on our experiences mooring and our watching so many other people mooring their boats. From complete ineptitude to hot rod racers to poetry in motion, mooring can be an adventure.

We ended the day with Bushwackers, tequila, baby-back ribs and calamari. A lovely evening and in our bunks by 21:00.

4/2 - Up and at it this morning at 06:30. We’re definitely pushing on today. Two blocks of ice to top things off – so far we’ve used 12 blocks and 10 bags of crushed ice; but, since refrigeration is the biggest drain on boat batteries, think of the money we’ve saved on diesel fuel by not having to keep running the engine to recharge the batteries.

We departed at 08:50 and sailed west along Tortola, between the airport on Beef Island and Great Camanoe and Little Camanoe islands, past Guano Island and then tacked northwest, jibed to a southwest tack, jibed back to a northwest tack, and a third jibe to southwest. The swell was not as bad as the day we aborted going to Anegada, but close, perhaps six to eight foot swells, 10 seconds apart, but the winds weren’t quite as gusty – maybe a touch over 20 knots. We overshot Cane Garden Bay, thinking at first it was Brewer’s Bay, but we easily turned back and arrived at noon.

What a lovely spot! A curving white sand beach stretches at least a mile, with beach bars and restaurants along much of it. It reminded us a bit of Grand Case in St. Martin, though not as sophisticated. We moored, went ashore, and had a pretty decent lunch at the Big Banana Paradise Club. We were actually looking for Stanley’s Welcome Beach Bar, alleged home of the “Cheeseburgers in Paradise,” but Joe Russell and Mark Bunzel’s Exploring the Virgin Islands cruising guide, which we feel is generally better than the more well-known Cruising Guide to the Virgin Islands by Nancy and Simon Scott, mislabeled the restaurants on their Cane Garden Bay sketch map. Later we found Stanley’s, but we were too hungry to pass up the Big Banana.

After lunch we walked to the west end of the beach and back, stopped at Myett’s for a drink, and then walked along the road that parallels the beach down to the Callwood Distillery. Callwood’s has been making rum since the 1700s, and the Callwood family has operated it since the late 1800s. It’s the oldest operating rum distillery in the Caribbean. They continue to use traditional distilling methods, first squeezing the sugarcane, then fermenting the juice, and then distilling it, letting it sit for ten-days, and distilling it again. For white rum the distillation is aged for four years in glass bottles, for dark rum in oak casks. We sampled the dark or amber rum, called Arundel, and found it to have a bit of a scotch whiskey flavor. I prefer a sweeter rum (Cruzon Single Barrel is best, or Mount Gay Eclipse), but Deb liked it.

We continued our walk, going east along the road, passing Bobby’s Market Place, and down along a sea wall to the end of the beach. Finally we returned to Elbereth for cheese hors d’oeuvres. We admired Flying Colours a 54-foot Little Harbor with two guys aboard that was moored behind us, and watched the sun set over Jost Van Dyke. We decided to stay aboard for the night. On the night of the full moon, which this was, there are a couple of big parties on Tortola, one at Trellis Bay and an even better known one at Bomba’s Surfside Shack on Cappoon Bay, which is just over a hill and west of Cane Garden Bay. If we’d been with a bunch of friends, I’m sure we’d have gone in and taken a taxi over to Bomba’s, but we decided to wait and go in to see Quito Rhymer play solo at his restaurant the next night.

4/3 - No question, we’re staying another day. Cane Garden Bay is really a relaxing place to be. We lazed about in the morning, watched the Little Harbor sail away. We occupied the morning watching first a big power boat moor where Flying Colours had been, then watched them move to anchor on the east end of the bay very near the shore, to be replaced at the mooring by three smaller power boats who all rafted up. We sunbathed, had breakfast, then lunch…a lazy, beautiful day in paradise. The rains were gone, the weather was gorgeous, we relished it all.

In the afternoon we went for a walk, climbing a couple of roads looking for a pathway off the main road that would take us to the top of the hill on the east end of the bay. We had no luck but got lots of exercise and enjoyed watching people and the scenery. We like the character of life – poor but proud – things take time on Tortola, but life is good. We picked up a couple of things at Bobby’s, used the ATM, and finished the afternoon with a drink at Stanley’s Welcome Beach Bar.

At 19:00 we went ashore for dinner at Quito’s Gazebo. Quito played solo that night starting at 20:30, and his stuff reminded me a lot of the coffee house folk music I used to listen to when I was going to college in Oregon during the 1960s. It was alright, melodic, but it wasn’t very inspiring. Rather than stay and have more to drink there, we went back to the boat and had some rum in the cockpit, until a light rain pushed inside and to our bunks. It was a good day.

4/4 - We decided to push off for Jost Van Dyke today. Around 10:00 we dropped the mooring, raised the sail with one reef, and headed off for the short sail over to Foxy’s Taboo on the east end of Manchioneel Bay. We hadn’t gone long before we shook out the reef and sailed across on a lovely, light wind beam reach. Preparing to anchor, we were pleased to see that a small mooring field has been added near Foxy’s Taboo, nine balls in all. We picked up one and then went ashore to take a hike.

There’s a spot on the north side of Jost Van Dyke about three-fourths of a mile from Foxy’s Taboo where the ocean waves pour through a formation of rocks into a protected pool. The waves create a whirlpool effect. We hiked out to the “bubbly pool” but made a wrong turn along the way to climb up a hill that overlooked the ocean down a rocky slope. We discovered a blowhole, and after we got to the bubbly pool, we walked along the top of the hill back to the blowhole area. We sat for a few minutes and marveled at the waves and the water falls created by the withdrawing water, and listened to the earth breath. Whewwwww … whewwwww … whewwwww.

On the way back, Deb found several lovely little shells along the shoreline to go with her glass fish collection, and we made our way to Foxy’s Taboo for lunch. This was the best meal we had on the entire trip. Deb had a fantastic salad, and we both had lamb kabobs with the tastiest sauce I can ever remember having. Moreover, through lunch local musician Ras Rio played some of the best Dylan music that either of us had heard in a long time. He had so much more soul and was so much more alive than Quito Rhymer! We’ll look for him again on our next trip.

Foxy’s Taboo has a great boutique, as well. Deb found a couple of things, as did I, and we had a nice conversation with the young woman managing it. Turns out she’d come to the BVI for two months five years ago and was thinking about moving on to Central America. The BVI, she said, was starting to cater more to mega yachts and wealthy tourists and losing sight of the more sustainable tourism provided by bareboat charters and small resorts. Business, she said was reflecting this, and it was down a lot this year.

We ended the day by snorkeling off an old cement dock about a hundred yards from the boat. The water was a bit stirred by the surge, but there were lots of fish and big schools Silversides. It was great fun.

4/5 - Today is our penultimate day aboard the boat. Knowing the end is near, we lingered through the morning. Rather than sail off to another anchorage, we decided to spend a second day here. We went in to the Taboo for lunch, and then took a long walk up to the top of the hill separating Manchioneel Bay from Little Harbor, home to Sidney’s Peace and Love. It was a really steep climb, but the views were well worth it.

In the afternoon we dinghied over to Sandy Spit at the west end of Manchioneel Bay. Along the way we saw the infamous Educated Ice, the Jeanneau 40 of our last charter with Conch. We decided not to motor over and chat with the people, but the next day, when we sailed toward Soper’s Hole, they sailed off our beam for a large part of the way.

We spent the evening with oysters, crackers and cheese, martinis, and dancing in the cockpit, and ended it watching the moon rise over Tortola. Deb’s fighting a cold, and I’ve had a cough that’s hung on since arriving in the islands with laryngitis. Maybe it’s time to head home.

4/6 – We arose at 07:00. We both had cups of “Airborne” along with our coffee and breakfast. Then we set off for the long sail back to Road Town – altogether 19.6 nautical miles. It took almost six hours, and we arrived at 15:00, cleaned out our stuff from the boat, we’re spared having to pay for fuel because the marina office was closed for Good Friday, and got Conch to pay for half our ice costs, which totaled $70.

Because we had a 07:30 flight in the morning, we had booked a room at the Fort Burt Hotel. Our regular standard room wasn’t available, so we splurged with a top floor mini-suite. We showered, had a cocktail sitting out on the balcony overlooking Road Town, and then went down to the restaurant to visit with Sharon and Buxton and have dinner, which is always one of the best meals of our trip.

More photos

Trip log (93.6 nautical miles total)

3/25 - Road Town to Norman Island: 1:35 hours, 6.62 nm, average 3.6 kts, top speed 6.9 kts
3/26 - Norman to Cooper Island: 3:29 hours, 13.18 nm, average 3.9 kts, top speed 5.2 kts
3/27 - Cooper to Marina Cay: 2:30 hours, 8.61 nm, average 4 kts, top speed 6.8 kts
3/28 - Marina Cay to Leverick Bay: 4:50 hours, 11 nm, average 3.9 kts, top speed 5.8 kts
3/31 - Saba Rock to Marina Cay: 2:55 hours, 14.4 nm, average 4.9 kts, top speed 8.0 kts
4/2 - Marina Cay to Cane Garden Bay: 3:07 hours, 15.9 nm, average 5.1 kts, top speed 9.0 kts
4/4 - Cane Garden Bay to Jost Van Dyke: 1:13 hours, 4.3 nm, average 3.5 kts, top speed 5.2 kts
4/6 - Jost Van Dyke to Road Town: 5:54 hours, 19.6 nm, average 3.4 kts, top speed 5.6 kts

British Virgin Islands and St. Martin, Christmas 2006 through New Year’s 2007

2007-01-09T17:20:00.000-08:00

During this past summer, we decided to do a back-to-back charter as soon as the fall teaching term was completed. We tried to charter the Beneteau 36 we had in April with Conch Charters, but they’d already booked it so we settled for a two-cabin, two-head Jeanneau 40. For our second leg, we decided to go to St. Martin/St. Maarten east of the BVI’s at the top of the Leeward Islands, and we chartered a two-cabin, two-head Beneteau 393 with Sunsail (via Charterworld out of New Zealand, which gave us the best deal).

Part One -

December 15-26 – Tortola, Norman Island, Yost van Dyke, Marina Cay, Saba Rock and the Bitter End, Cooper Island, Norman Island, Tortola (we missed Anegada again, but it's on the agenda for our next visit to the BVIs)

December 15 – We’re getting used to the long flight across country and the late arrival in Tortola. We caught a taxi to our favorite destination, the Fort Burt Hotel. Although Sharon was just starting to close the bar, she served up our welcome martinis (I think we’re among the few who, on arriving in the Caribbean, don’t rush straight to fancy rum drinks with little umbrellas), and Bastille, the night man, brought us some “pumpkin pie” and a little cooked fish for a late night snack. (I ate a bite of fish – oops! Shouldn’t have done that, and I paid for it in the early morning. Yuck.)

December 16 –We gave ourselves the day to acclimatize and provision for the week’s charter, so after breakfast and checking in with Conch Charters, just across the street, we walked into Road Town. Lots of boutiques serve the cruise ship crowds, and we enjoyed wandering through shops. Around noon, we found our way back to The Pub, next to Conch’s offices, where we had some lunch and then a quick lie-down.

In the afternoon, Conch’s main man, Miles, went over the systems on our boat, Educated Ice, a 1999 Jeanneau 40. The condition of charter boats is always a bit dodgy, and we accepted the fact that the traveller was useless. At least the boat had a new genoa, the electronics worked, and she appeared clean. Next, we sat down for a chart briefing with Krista, and then were picked up by a driver from Bobby’s Market to shop for provisions. By 17:00 we were back at the boat with provisions, got additional ice from The Pub, stowed things aboard the boat, and ran the engine for an hour to really cool down the refrigerator.

Provisioning charters is a big business. All the charter companies work with local groceries (Bobby’s is the biggest provisioning market on Tortola, followed by Rite Way, but the options provided by the services are rarely what we want. We agreed (for the last time, I think) to get a “starter kit” through Bobby’s, and we added on a couple of other things we knew we wanted and thought they could easily get us, but we want to choose our own produce, meats, and condiments. Even so, the markets stock items in sizes aimed at groups of people, not couples, and we always wind up with too much mayonnaise, mustard, olive oil, etc. Well, we’re working on refining it for the future.

We had the boat for a sleep-aboard that night, but we decided we wanted another night at the Fort Burt as a nice transition. After our provisions were stowed, Sharon served us up drinks at the Fort Burt. Then we walked (in a light rain) to the Fat Cat Thai Restaurant, just a quarter-mile away. It’s run by Meow, a young woman who recently emigrated from Thailand to the BVIs. We had one of the very best Thai meals we’ve ever had. Put it on your list of places to eat in Tortola.

December 17 – After a good breakfast at Fort Burt, we moved on the boat, got a final check out, filled up the water tanks, after which Miles accompanied us out into the main harbor and turned us loose on our trip. We decided to sail straight across to Deborah’s favorite spot, the Bight at Norman Island. By 12:30 we were moored and having lunch on the boat.

It seems inevitable that after about two or three hours on a charter boat, you begin to find what’s wrong with it. In this case, we discovered two things. First, there was water under the sole in the v-berth in a dry bilge area. Because there were no limber holes leading back to the main bilge to drain the water, we bailed the water (about two gallons) into the main bilge. Then, we discovered the second problem. The bilge pump (which had operated slowly but effectively when we went through the boat check-out) was clogged. I pulled a bunch of crap out of the bilge itself, and then we located the bilge pump strainer and cleaned it, and finally pumped out the water. We called Conch to report the problems, but the fellow we spoke to just said clean the bilge pump strainer and close the forward head thru-hulls. He really didn’t know. So, a lesson to all, report your problems to cover your ass, but remember, it often does no good to complain about basic maintenance issues. Charter companies are in the business of turning boats around quickly to make bucks on the charters, and keeping bilge pump strainers clean and searching out small leaks as part of basic maintenance is something often neglected. Anyway, this was a well-used boat, and we discovered that night, a noisy one.

After our little effort at bailing and bilge pump maintenance, we dinghied ashore to the Pirates Restaurant and Bar, where we had what we think are the best Pina Coladas and BBC’s in the islands, took a swim, and then dinghied over to the Willie T floating restaurant and bar for what turned out to be a really average meal. The sun, wind, and general excitement of traveling wiped us out, and we were asleep by 20:30 and didn’t awaken for twelve hours.

December 18 – We finally roused ourselves at 09:00, and in a stupor I tried making coffee. A roll of the boat caused the stove splash guard to fall and knock the almost completed pot all over the deck, so after a clean-up, I tried again and we finally got coffee. Meantime, Deb realized she’d left her favorite cap at Pirates. We dinghied in to discover they were closed until 12:30, went back and fixed breakfast, and eventually Deb retrieved her cap.

In the afternoon, we sailed down Sir Francis Drake Channel to Little Harbor at Jost Van Dyke. There were only three boats moored there, and we soon discovered that there was a lot of competition between the restaurants at the harbor. Sidney (of Sydney’s Peace and Love) was knocking on our boat almost before we’d picked up a mooring, asking us to come in for dinner. He was followed by Cynthia (of Harris’s), who collected for the mooring and then invited us to her place for dinner. Business clearly was slow. We went over to Abe’s for some ice, then went into Sydney’s boutique. While we were there, a fight broke out between the folks at Harris’s and Sydney’s over accusations of stealing business from each other.

Caught in the middle, we decided to skedaddle for the boat and cook dinner aboard, where we had a really nice evening listening to music, eating and drinking, and dancing. It’s the end of our third day, and we’re finally beginning to decompress from life at home and slip into island time. (Turns out this was the only night we barbecued aboard, a fact that by the end of the trip persuaded us that buying meat to cook on board was something we’d not do again as a matter of course – it doesn’t last long and generally is close to spoiled by the time we’re ready for it.)

Here at Little Harbor we also found water once again under the sole in the v-berth. We bailed it out, this time pouring five or six gallons overboard. Since it clearly was not coming invisibly from the thru-hulls, which we didn’t think was the problem anyway, speculated that it might be seeping down from the starboard toe-rail. The interior upholstered line was loose on the starboard side above the v-berth just next to the head, with tell-tale signs of mildew. We looked in the small but deep dry storage compartment located just below this spot and under the v-berth, and lo and behold, we discovered about two gallons of water with a bit of mosquito larvae. Ah ha! We’d solved the mystery of how mosquitoes had bitten us when off shore in a windy anchorage – we were breeding our own. So we bailed it out and dried the compartment completely. As long as it didn’t rain, we figured no more water would be seeping down into this compartment and then on to the dry bilge areas beneath the sole.

(We also saw Elbereth, the Beneteau 36 we’d wanted to charter, and, when Deborah said to the folks aboard "be nice to her, because we've got her booked for March ’07," a woman who said she ran a Tampa based charter fleet, rattled off a whole list of little things wrong with Elbereth. Oy vey!)

December 19 – Breakfast aboard – the meal we regularly cook – and then we set off at 08:15 to sail up to the Bitter End. It’s a long sail and would take the day, tacking way off shore and back about four times, but we wanted to try it. We motored east about two miles until we were opposite Brewers Bay on the north shore of Tortola. Then we raised the sails and tacked northeast (36 degrees)]. It was a great sail, but when we had gotten about seven miles offshore from Tortola, we once again discovered lots of water in the forward cabin bilge. We decided not to go further out, and came about. Suddenly the instruments and autopilot shut down, as it turns out only for about five minutes, but we began to think this boat was jinxed for us. Deb bailed out the bilge, we located the emergency plugs, and I that the compartment under the v-berth was filled with water again. As I watched, I saw water splashing up into the compartment through a small opening through which sensor wires were attached to what I realized was the forward clean water tank, located in yet a larger compartment under the v-berth. I opened up that compartment and discovered another 10 to 20 gallons of water sloshing about in that compartment, obviously leaking from the water tank. Ah ha!

Since we knew we weren’t sinking we came about again to resume our off-shore tack, but we still agreed, with possibly faulty instruments we shouldn’t go too far. Soon we came about and tacked back in toward Long Bay on Tortola. By this time it was nearly 12:00, and we decided we weren’t going to make the Bitter End, so a half-mile off Long Bay we tacked northeast again and motor-sailed up to the Guana Channel. We dropped the sails and motored on past Beef Island (where the Tortola airport is located), past Little Camanoe and Great Camanoe islands, and on to Marina Cay, where we picked up a mooring.

We dinghied into Pusser’s boutique, and discovered that Steve and Clare Waterloo and their kids, Conner and Teagan, friends from Encinal Yacht Club, were scheduled to arrive on the 17:00 ferry from Trellis Bay (near the airport). We got a quick nap on the boat and watched for them on the ferry. Alas, they were late, so we dumped trash, walked about the island, and then sat down for a drink at the bar to wait for the 18:00 ferry. We went to meet it, but, alas, no Waterloos, so we decided to have ribs at the restaurant. We were just about to leave, around 20:00, when Steve appeared to order sandwiches for his kids and No. 4 Painkillers for himself and Clare. We went up to their “villa” and visited for a while – a great room – and then retired to the boat.

We discovered the water rising slowly in the forward cabin bilge, and Deb decided to look further at the lining that was coming loose. She pulled it back just a bit to see if the toe rail screws showed signs of leaking, and virtually the entire lining peeled back. It was coated with what appeared to be black mold (but probably was mildew), and we agreed to bail out of the v-berth. Deb had been coughing for two nights anyway; she knew right away this was the problem. So, we sealed off the front cabin and moved into the aft berth. It was too hot and stuffy for me, so I spent half the night sleeping on the main cabin settee.

December 20 – We discussed whether to return the boat or just keep going, and since our friends from the Encinal were here and others were coming, we decided to just keep the v-berth closed off and go on. We had coffee and went in for ice, where we met up with Steve and Clare and decided to stay for breakfast. We had planned to go on to the Bitter End that day to meet with Rodney and Jane Pimentel (also from the Encinal), but when we discovered that Tony and Michelle Shaffer and their daughter Samantha were arriving that evening at Marina Cay, we decided to stay.

We got some good snorkel equipment (we’d forgotten to pick up a mask and flippers at the charter base), and dinghied to a nearby dive spot on Great Camanoe Island. I’m a rank beginner at snorkeling, only having successfully done it in Maui a few years ago, but this time I was pretty successful. We had a great time, seeing lots of Yellow Jacks, a big school of Blue Tang, and some other fish. Later that day we snorkeled from the boat to shore at Marina Cay and saw a Barracuda along the way.

That evening we had drinks with the Waterloos, met the Shaffers on the 19:00 ferry, and then we all had a great dinner, the adults liberally consuming Pain Killers and Pina Coladas, the kids enjoying their own special drinks. We finally got back to the boat and to bed at 21:30.

December 21 – I was up at 07:00 and made coffee while Deborah slept in.

I love reading on cruises, and over the three weeks of this cruise read five novels. The first was The Broker, by John Grisham. He’s such a good storyteller. The second was Jimmy Buffett’s Tales of Margaritaville, a collection of short stories, all except two fictional. His fiction is pretty good, but his autobiographical stuff is not my cup of tea. The third book was his memoir, A Pirate Looks at Fifty. Maybe it’s because I’m not into flying or particularly into fishing and surfing, but I found it pretty self-indulgent (of course, I should talk, since this whole cruising log is self-indulgent as well – perhaps the one redeeming feature of this is that, if you read this far, you didn’t pay $8.99 for it). Anyhow, I skimmed Buffett’s memoir, and then read Tony James really well-written and entrancing memoir of a life-time of sailing, Up the Creek: A Lifetime Trying to be a Sailor. Highly recommended! Then, finally, I read Kalid Hosseini’s The Kite Runner, which completely lived up to every bit of hype on its cover. Hosseini is truly a first-rate writer, and most importantly he’s got something for anyone who reads him. Toward the end of the trip, I started reading an academic tome, The Human Built World, from which I’m drawing some ideas for a history of technology and environment book chapter, but I succumbed to novely and picked up a Carl Hiaasen novel, Lucky You, in the DFW airport on the way home.

By 09:30, Deborah was up, we finally got the ice we had set off to get the day before, and embarked for the Bitter End, 17 nautical miles away.

We reached across to Virgin Gorda just below the Baths, and then turned northeast on a close haul up to Gorda Sound.

In the sound, we picked up a mooring at Saba Rock, our favorite spot adjacent to the Bitter End Yacht Club.

Along the way, YachtshotsBVI.com snapped some photos of us (for which they charged an outrageous amount to purchase the digital images - ain't capitalism great).

We dinghied into the Bitter End YC boutique, which was a disappointment this trip, left a message for Rodney and Jane, and then went to Saba Rock for Pina Coladas.

After a nap on the boat, we returned to the Bitter End YC at 06:30 to hook up with Rodney and Jane and their kids RJ and Leo. They found us and we had dinner with them at one of the casual spots on the grounds.

December 22 – Next morning the Pimentels took an early ferry back to Tortola to hook up with the Waterloos and Shaffers at Sunsail in Hodge’s Creek, where they were picking up two catamarans. We agreed to meet them later at Cooper Island, so at 07:30 we arose, had coffee and breakfast, got our free bag of ice at Saba Rock, and embarked at about 09:15 for Cooper Island. We had a lovely sail to Cooper Island and covered the 15.8 nm at an average speed of 5.2 knots (our max. was 7.2 knots).

As usual, we visited the boutique and had lunch at the Cooper Island Beach Club and made a dinner reservation for the group (15 of us) for later that night.

Eventually, the group arrived on their Lagoon 440s – Shaffers and Waterloos on one, Pimentels and Matthew Dean and his daughter Rachel on the other – and we dinghied out and hung out on the Waterloo/Shaffer boat. Everyone had a great time swimming, watching snappers chasing small fish – schools of which literally flew out of the water in an effort to escape the snappers – and admiring the attributes of the big catamarans.

We determined that this, indeed, was the final cruise of the Encinal Yacht Club for 2006. After all, Deborah and I were the 2006 Cruise Captains for the club, and with us was the club’s Commodore, Tony Shaffer, its Rear Commodore, Rodney Pimentel, and the club's house director, Clare Waterloo. If this didn’t make for a club cruise, what did?

We ended the day with a cocktail party on the Pimentel/Dean boat and then a big dinner at the Cooper Island Beach Club, where we celebrated Samantha Shaffer’s 7th birthday!

December 23 – We saw the Encinal boats off, fixed breakfast, and then departed for Deborah’s favorite spot, Norman Island, where we’d started our charter. We were going to go the south side of Peter Island, which would put us outside the Sir Francis Drake Channel, but the winds really picked up to over 25 knots, so we turned back and into the channel. The winds picked up there as well, and we reached across the channel toward Fat Hogs Bay on Tortola, where we reefed our sails and then turned west to Norman Island. We covered 1.38 nm in 2:40 hours, averaging 5.2 knots, hitting 8.3 knots max, and arriving just after 12:00.

Yachtshots.com picked us up again on their radar, and got a couple of nice shots of us on our well-worn Jeanneau, Educated Ice.

We went into the Pirates for lunch, Deborah finally found some things in the boutique, we went swimming, left our signature on the rafters at the Pirates, and then showered on the boat. We cooked a vegie stir fry dinner (okay, but lacking spices), did some packing, drank rum, had a lovely talk about the week, and finally collapsed.

December 24 – After breakfast, we left our mooring at Norman Island at 09:10 and sailed for 1:42 hours the 6.7 nm to Road Town (ave. speed 4.1 knots, max 6.2 knots). We called on our arrival in Road Town harbor, and Miles met us right away to bring the boat in.

Deborah immediately began to relate all our difficulties with the water leaks to Miles, who said he’d try to get us some compensation.

We went up to the Fort Burt Hotel, checked in and sat down to lunch. They had a wonderful Christmas Eve buffet set up – truly gourmet, which is one of the reasons we love the place – and we indulged ourselves.

The Fort Burt Hotel Restaurant is run by the H. Lavity Stoutt Community College Culinary Program in partnership with the New England Culinary Institute of Vermont. The program offers a two-year AOS degree in Culinary Arts, with students spending six months on campus and six months on paid internships each year.

The program runs a first-rate bakery in Road Town as well as the full-service restaurant at the Fort Burt Hotel. Neil Cline, the program’s director, told us this trip that they’ll have a second restaurant open at nearby Prospect Reef by Spring. The food is always good, and this buffet was really top rate.

But, I digress. Miles came up to the restaurant to tell us that the best they would offer us was 5% off our next charter, which we said was insufficient. We finished eating and walked down to the Conch office, where again we were told this was the best they could do. “All the directors are gone for the day,” said Krista. I can’t do any more. We stood our ground, and finally she disappeared into the next room, and five minutes later reappeared with, lo and behold, a “director.” Again, the same story, to which we finally replied: “you don’t want our business, then, is that it?” At which point, the “director” budged. “Well, we can give you $400 plus two days off your next charter,” he said, making the total for two weeks in the Spring $1,000 off the initial charter price. We agreed, saying that this sounded as though they wanted our business, and we parted ways.

Now on land, we spent the afternoon in Road Town, got cash at an ATM, and listened to a really good blues guitarist who calls himself M. J. Blues playing in front of Bobby’s market. We bought a CD and he told us he’d be at De Loose Mongoose in Trellis Bay that night from 7-10. We then wandered over to a local shopping area and discovered Richard’s Bar, know by everyone as the Spanish Bar, where we drank Brugel Anejo rum from the Dominican Republic, practiced our Spanish, and met some great local folks.

That evening we took a taxi up to SkyWorld for dinner. The taxi driver waited for us, having a little liquid refreshment, while we ate. It was okay, but did not live up to the expectation we had for it. We ate and left, and our driver took us (s-l-o-w-l-y) via Ridge Road to Trellis Bay. M J Blues was really pleased to see us, and we had great fun. Too bad he didn’t have a keyboard. But we talked music a bit, and he said to let him know when we’re back and he’d get a keyboard for me. Could be great fun!

December 25 – Merry Christmas! We slept in and then had a lovely breakfast. In preparation for our next days trip to St. Martin, we scrounged a box, tape, and twine, and boxed up some food items and such that we had left over from this cruise to take to our next adventure.

We took a long walk down the coast road to Nanny Cay, stopping by to look at the Royal British Virgin Islands Yacht Club, and had lunch at the Rite Way Gourmet Chandlery, the only place open. Nanny Cay is home to Horizon Yacht Charters and has perhaps the largest dry storage yard for yachts on the island.

We caught a taxi back to Road Town with a group of Italian sailors, browsed through the outdoor market set up adjacent to the cruise ship docks, and then walked back to Fort Burt, where I took a swim in the pool and Deborah took a nap.

We ended the day with drinks and Christmas dinner at the hotel, and fell asleep quite satiated and completely enjoying our “second home” at the Fort Burt Hotel in Road Town.

More photos of BVIs trip

Part Two

December 26-January 5 – St. Martin (Oyster Pond, Orient Bay) , Anguilla (Road Bay), St. Martin (Marigot, Grand Case, Oyster Pond) - we missed St. Barth because of weather, so – darn! - we’ll just have to go back

December 26 – “Boxing Day,” a public holiday in Great Britain and Commonwealth countries such as the British Virgin Islands and Anguilla in the Caribbean, found us traveling to St Martin. We had the morning for a leisurely breakfast at the Ft. Burt Hotel and cleared customs at the airport easily in time for our thirty minute flight to Princess Juliana International Airport in Dutch St. Maarten. We took a taxi to Oyster Pond, thirty minutes away and just across the border on the French side of the island, St. Martin, where our Sunsail charter company reps said to check in later since our boat wouldn’t be ready for a couple of hours. We left our bags at the office and had a nice late lunch at Captain Oliver’s Restaurant and rested a bit by his swimming pool (turns out Oliver, who we met along with his wife Maggie, built and owns the entire marina and its hotel, shops and restaurants … a nice gig, if you can get it). It’s a beautiful setting, with great vistas of the entrance to Oyster Pond from both the restaurant and pool.

On check-in at 16:30, we discovered that Sunsail had forgotten to fulfill our provisioning order. It was their fault, and they were gracious about trying to correct it, but since it was a holiday in St. Martin, too, the provisioning outfits they used were closed. Nevertheless, they had the list and said they’d fulfill it by dark, bringing the stuff to the boat. By now we felt inured to such inevitable glitches in chartering a boat, so we ventured off to stow our stuff aboard our boat. Big Foot is a Beneteau 393 (2004) with a really comfortable and nicely kept mahogany-stained, two-cabin interior. The difference between the Jeanneau we’d just abandoned in the BVIs and this boat were stunning!

And, then, we smelled diesel and a mechanic, who had emerged just before we boarded Big Foot, returned with his boss, and the two of them began working on the engine. They tore up the freshly made-up aft cabin so they could open up full access to the engine, and we did our best to stay out of the way. Over an hour later they finished and the boss told us the problem. They had overfilled the diesel tank and the fill line had leaked. Their solution had been to siphon off two quarts of fuel. The diesel smell vanished, though half way through the cruise we discovered they had not siphoned all the spilled fuel out – a quart, at least, was sitting in the isolated start-battery compartment.

In any event, we finally started our boat check with a young fellow who didn’t speak English well (French is the lingua of St. Martin) but worse didn’t appear to know the boat well. Much of the check was done in the dark, so asked him to return in the morning to do the deck check-out. At about 19:15, our provisions arrived, which we stowed aboard and inventoried quickly – it was very incomplete and where we’d asked for small amounts we got enormous quantities. So, we arranged to go catch a ride the next morning at about 11:00 for further provisioning.

We finished our evening at Captain Oliver’s for dinner, drank in excess, met Oliver’s wife Maggie, walked about, and finally ended up at The Yacht Club wine and cheese bar operated by Nikko, who was playing a Roland keyboard with midi system. We stayed and eventually I asked him if he’d let an itinerant keyboard player play a little. He did, and after I played three or four things and ended with a boogie called “Down the Road a Piece” by Freddy Slack, he joined in – four hands on the keyboard! It was truly a great spontaneous moment. … At 01:30 we staggered off to Big Foot.

December 27 – Despite being up late, we were up at 07:45. We discovered that the refrigerator had shut down during the night. Following all the instructions, we couldn’t seem to get it to operate. We had decided the night before to return some of the provisions purchased which were not what we’d requested, and we added to the bag the fully thawed chicken we’d put in the freezer the night before. Captain Deborah took the chart talk, and I topped off the water, checked out the windlass, and discovered that the young fellow checking us out the night before had turned off the switch on the panel which allowed the refrigerator to run off shore power.

On this cruise, Deb was skipper the whole time. She did a great job, calling the shots in every situation. Whenever she'd look at me for a decision, I threw it back at her, and she never ducked the responsibility. We have different approaches to sailing: I'll take the extra risk more often than not, and Deb's pretty cautious. So, when I'm skippering, Deb is often on edge more than anyone ought to be, and when she's skippering things are pretty calm. ... Calm turns out to be better for us both.

When Deb finished with the chart briefing, we met a Sunsail driver took us into the market, thirty minutes away, to finish provisioning. We said we’d be done in 45 minutes, and we were, but the driver wasn’t there. After waiting another 45 minutes and talking with Sunsail, we caught another taxi back, stowed our provisions, and finally were piloted out of Oyster Pond at 15:45.

It was a short hour-and-twenty-minute sail to Orient Bay, about five nautical miles up the coast of St. Martin. But we quickly realized we weren’t in the BVIs. We had a five to six-foot swell every seven seconds, which cut our average boat speed for the trip to about three knots. It was enough for me to begin feeling nauseated, and pulling down the sails in the swell outside Orient Bay made us decide to pull out a harness for me to use in the future - we got it out, only to discover that Sunsail provided no jack lines…duh! (We never had to use the harness, but at least we'd gotten it ready.) We also discovered the wind gauge didn’t work, radioed this into the Sunsail base who told us to stand by – a week later they’d never responded and we’d given it up.

By 17:15, we were securely anchored behind the reef just below Green Cay in Orient Bay. We drank a little rum, read a bit, had oysters, cheese and crackers for dinner, and were asleep by 21:30. We spent a breezy, rainy, and roily night at the anchorage, but we slept well. Had the weather been better, we'd have gone ashore to visit this "Riviera of French St. Martin," famously advertised as a nudist's paradise, but alas we pressed on.

December 28 – Up at 06:30, made coffee, and decided to forego a full breakfast and set out for Anguilla so that we could get a good spot in the anchorage and have a lot of the afternoon there. The seas were calmer than yesterday, and we had a comfortable sails-reefed beam-reach trip across the Anguilla Channel. We tacked port to a broad reach and shook out the genoa reef until we reached the southwest end of the island.

There we tacked starboard and, after rounding the island, I rolled a solid reef into the genoa as found our selves close-hauled in 20-25 knots up the west side of Anguilla to Road Bay. Gusts certainly hit 30 knots, and Deb’s new cap from Sidney’s Peace and Love in Yost Van Dyke went overboard in one of them. She was very sad! We dodged a few lobster pots along the way, saw some nice mega-power and sailing yachts, and really enjoyed ourselves. Overall, we sailed 22.6 nm at an average speed of 5 knots and a maximum speed of 8.6 knots in 4:25 hours. At Road Bay, We got a good anchor set on our second try (we had to find the sand between the patches of grass).

Unlike the BVIs, where all the islands are part of one island nation, islands within the Leewards are often different island nations. St. Martin is half French and half Dutch (St. Maarten), and Anguilla is a British Island (although during the 1960s Britain unsuccessfully tried to make them an autonomous state along with St. Kitts and Nevis over sixty miles to the south). Hence, when leaving St. Martin one finds themselves entering another country when sailing to adjacent islands. After we anchored, we had to dinghy in to clear Anguilla customs, and because we decided that we would spend two nights there, they wouldn’t let us clear out of customs in the same visit, which meant we’d have to come back the next day. Oh well, by now island time had its grip on us, so we wandered over to Johnno’s for a burger, shopped at the Irie Life boutique (a great little shop), and eventually went back to the boat. The plan was to cook dinner, but after a couple of rums, we ended up reading and snacking instead of having a real dinner. We were asleep by 21:00.

December 29 – We awakened to rain, did some reading, and cooked a mid-morning breakfast. It rained all morning, but soon after noon it lifted and we dinghied into shore and to the customs office. A local cut in front of us at the customs office, which was a bit irritating, but we finally got our clearance papers for the next day and decided to walk about.

We went down the beach and stopped at Roy’s Bayside Grill for a drink just as a little squall came through – it turns out that it was Roy himself who was the rude local who cut in front of us at the customs office. We didn’t stay for a second drink. We walked further looking for a trailhead to take us up to the top of the ridge for an overlook of the bay, but we missed it somehow and circled back through the town, which is called Sandy Ground Village.

Eventually, we ended up a Johnno’s again for, yet again, another burger. I’d hoped that the Barrel Stay, highly recommended in Doyle’s cruising guide would be open, but it looked shut down for good. Finally, we got ice at a little market and dinghied back to the boat where Deb cooked up a really good broccoli and butter dinner. We were in bed by 21:00 again, but this night a really loud and very bad rap band (I think it was rap, anyway) played at Johnno’s until 02:00. It was a pretty miserable night. We really should have left and gone on to Crocus Bay, which Sunsail had recommended, but Road Bay seemed so nice.

December 30 – We were up at 07:00, despite a poor nights sleep, fixed breakfast and by 09:30 were ready to weigh anchor for Marigot Bay on the west side of St. Martin. We sailed downwind to the southwest end of Anguilla. Along the way, Deb reminded me to keep an eye out for crab pots. I said you won't run over any, except perhaps with the dinghy. "Ha!" she replied. "I could never run over one with the dinghy!" Five minutes later, I spotted a crab pot just ahead, off our bow. "Port, turn port," I cried. And, Deb steered around it, only ... you guessed it ... to run over it with the dinghy. At least the motor was lifted up.

At the end of Anguilla we turned south and into a close haul to Marigot. The winds were fairly steady at 20 to 25 knots across Anguilla Channel, and the rest of the trip was uneventful, and we covered 16.8 nm in 3:50 hours with an average speed of 4.3 knots and maximum of 9.1 knots. Surprisingly the winds actually picked up to about 30 knots as we entered Marigot Bay, but soon we were nicely anchored about a 600 feet offshore by 13:30. After lunch on the boat, we were excited to explore Marigot.

St. Martin/St. Maarten has three large harbors: Philipsburg, Simpson Bay, and Marigot Bay. Philipsburg is the largest by far, the most southern port on in Dutch St. Maarten. It is port to the commercial cruise ships, and several can dock there simultaneously. Its crowded, with loads of shops, restaurants, and bars, and it’s just the place we didn’t want to come close to visiting. Our only venture was to the outskirts and a large supermarket.

Simpson Bay is right next to the Princess Juliana Airport in St. Maarten, but it is a good anchorage at the southern entrance to Simpson Bay Lagoon, a 12-square mile protected anchorage dotted with marinas. Local maritime business folks are improving it with an eye to attracting more and more mega yachts – indeed, the day we flew out, we looked out to see the 289 foot Maltese Falcon entering Simpson Bay (the owner, Tom Perkins, is a longtime San Francisco Bay Area resident). We visited Simpson Bay by land and didn’t find it nearly as attractive as we might have if we’d come by water.

Marigot Bay, the third major harbor, is on the west and French side of the island. The minute you cross the border on land, the difference is striking. The Dutch side is architecturally and culturally a jumble. It’s chaotic, messy, and often ill-kept. The French side is cohesive and well maintained. Roads are cleaner and generally pot-hole free. It simply seems more civilized, although this is, as we discovered, perhaps just a façade. In any case, Marigot, the capital of French St. Martin, is truly French. As Doyle’s guide suggests, “it has the feeling of a picturesque and fashionable Riviera seaport.” We could hardly wait to visit the “attractive waterfront market and handsome streets, bursting at the seams with boutiques and restaurants.” (Very nice, but Doyle went a bit overboard.)

We landed our dinghy at the main dinghy dock just below the “attractive waterfront market” about 15:00. We locked up the dinghy (we were warned about dinghy thefts in Marigot), skirted past the “attractive waterfront market” and went into the very exclusive West Indies Mall, where Deb found a great French designed outfit – really, very cute! We heard in our wandering that all the shops were closing around 16:00 (and they did) and would not open again until after the new year (which was largely true). Too bad, but we would miss the “attractive waterfront market.”

Nevertheless, we stopped in at L’Oizeau Rare, a very pleasant restaurant and bar overlooking the harbor and had drinks and an order of escargot. Yum, yum! Deb made friends quickly with the owner, Natalie, who was from Nice, and we decided to make reservations for New Year’s Eve dinner there. Deb talked with her brother John for a while via cell phone, and we made our way back to the docks. The key for the dinghy lock jammed, and it took us some time to finally jimmy it (we sprayed it well with WD-40 later – at least Big Foot had a sensible tool kit), and we dinghied back to the boat.

We snacked, read, played music, watched the sunset, and about 20:00 the town came alive with a parade and music until a bit after midnight, thank God, not as loud nor as bad as in Anguilla. It rained hard off and on, we took hot showers, and we decided we really liked this Beneteau 393.

December 31 – We celebrated the morning, had a great breakfast, and recharged the batteries. Recharging is a morning and evening ritual on charter boats, and this morning we finally got it right. Every boat has it’s little peculiarities, and we had been getting barely enough charge on previous mornings. This morning, however, we ran the motor up to well over 2500 rpm for a minute or so, which apparently excited the alternator sufficiently, and when we cut it back to 1500 to run for an hour charging the alternator worked full capacity charging the batteries and running the refrigerator. It’s the little things that excite!

We decided to go into Simpson Bay today. Off and on rain squalls were predicted for the day, and we caught our first dinghying into a little stone dinghy dock just 600 feet off our starboard (not the main Marigot dock). We dried off quickly while walking to a coffee shop at Marina Port La Royale, where we discovered a great little area of restaurants and shops. We found the local shuttle bus stop (tourists rarely ride it), and for a couple of bucks got to the Philipsburg-Simpson Bay road junction. Because this bus was going on to Philipsburg, we got off, walked across the street to an unmarked stop in front of a KFC store. We retreated under a tree when another squall came through. The second bus dropped us off adjacent to the Simpson Bay Marina, where little was open because of the holiday. We walked down past the private and trendy Yacht Club Isle de Sol, past the new but still little building that is home to the Sint Maarten Yacht Club, and crossed the draw bridge from Simpson Bay into the lagoon. It’s not set up for people walking, with no sidewalks and roadsides muddy, pot-holed, and puddled from rain. We agreed that perhaps from a water approach it would be worth visiting, but we much preferred the French side and caught a shuttle back to Marigot.

We had lunch – a very good pizza and green salad – at La Belle Epoch in Marina Port La Royale. Deb wandered through some shops while I relaxed with a second glass of wine and watched people. Deb always finds stuff, and after two swim suits and a party dress, we finally headed back to the boat to rest up and clean up for New Year’s Eve dinner.

We dinghied into the main Marigot dinghy dock near near the “attractive waterfront market,” locked up the dinghy, and walked over to L’Oizeau Rare. We were quite early, but Natalie welcomed us, presented us with a gift of two martini glasses (which somehow Deb managed to get home without breaking), and we ate dinner over the next two hours. A little after 22:00, we walked down Marina Fort St. Louis, where a town party was in the works. Parties where we don’t know anyone are not too appealing, so we decided to go back to the boat and bring the new year in by ourselves.

Oy vey! Someone had stolen the fuel line for our dinghy! And the fuel lines of four or five other dinghies. We went back to the restaurant, where Natalie called the police for us, and they said come by in the morning to file a report (we were sternly advised by Sunsail to file a report in case of theft or we’d be charged for the item). It looked like some rain was heading our way, so we decided to start rowing back (about a quarter mile). Once we were committed and a couple of hundred yards from the dock, a squall erupted, the wind picked up, and all I could do was to head the dinghy in the general direction of the boat. Deb spotted a sailboat with lights on ahead, and we maneuvered over to it. We got the owner’s attention, a German fellow, told him our predicament, and he agreed without hesitation to tow us to our boat with his dinghy. It took five minutes, and when we took hold of Big Foot and yelled thanks, he turned back to his boat without a pause. (The next day we saw him at a distance and we exchanged barely nodded greetings.)

We were soaked to the skin (in our nicest clothes), but we started drying things out and gathering our wits about us. Cell phone coverage was lousy, so we couldn’t call home to wish our families happy new year, but despite our frustration, we brought in the new year watching a most spectacular fireworks show launched from the Marina Fort St. Louis, and we toasted the new year in safely aboard Big Foot.

January 1 – It was a windy morning, but the squalls had moved through and we made coffee while contemplating what to do about the dinghy fuel line. We had planned to sail up to Grand Case that day, a short distance up the coast from Marigot, but the dinghy problem scotched that plan. Phone coverage was sufficient for us to reach Sunsail at 08:30. We got the on-call person, who said that they could have someone out to Marigot shortly after 13:00. We told them to come to the small dinghy dock off our starboard side and we’d figure out how to get them out to our boat or us into them somehow. Then we charged our batteries, read, sunbathing, and otherwise relaxing.

There was still a pretty good offshore breeze, but periods of calm as well. I thought perhaps I could row the dinghy ashore, but we agreed I should try it while still tied to the boat by the painter. I did, and it was impossible. Cheap little plastic oars and a heavy dinghy with a motor on the back is not a good match. Without the wind, perhaps, but even then it wouldn’t be easy. So, when Patrick from Sunsail called us from the dinghy dock, Deb made the decision to hail some folks on Arabella, a sailboat astern of us. She got their attention, I radioed them, and they quickly agreed to give one of us a ride ashore to pick up Patrick. They were Brits from Jersey, and it turned out that they had had their dinghy fuel line stolen a week before at the same spot. They were unable to find a replacement, but fortunately they carried an extra small outboard with an internal tank aboard Arabella, which they were using now.

Patrick came aboard with a new fuel line, which he hooked up and checked out. He also brought a second air pump for the dinghy, which we swapped out for the one we’d been issued with Big Foot that did not have the correct fitting to connect to the dinghy fill points. Patrick said that we were absolved from having to file a police report, and we locked up the boat and took him ashore.

After disconnecting the fuel line and stowing it in the dinghy locker with the fuel tank and locking the dinghy to the dock, we thanked Patrick and walked into Port La Royale for lunch at The Village – drinks, escargot, fettuccini Alfredo, profiteroles, and chocolate cake. We stuffed ourselves, managed to call our families, and then walked along the beach below the dinghy dock. On the way back to the dinghy, we stopped at a hotel cabana bar for a drink and watched the sunset. We ended our day with drinks and snacks aboard Big Foot, and plans to cast off for Grand Case in the morning.

January 2 – Deb awoke with what she diagnosed as the start of a bladder infection. What a bummer! We had breakfast, and at 08:45 headed into town, tying up at the dock where our fuel line was stolen on New Year’s Eve and hiding our fuel line. Today there were many more tourists, and the “attractive waterfront market” was bustling (tour buses from the big cruise ships in Philipsburg were in town after the New Year’s celebrations were done). We walked up to a pharmacy I remembered seeing earlier, and the women at the pharmacy directed us to a doctor just a few doors down.

Medicine is practiced so differently outside the U.S. We’ve had a couple of experiences with the French system. Several year’s ago in Antibes, France, I had to have emergency surgery, and we became very familiar with the informal though nevertheless most efficient characteristics of French medical practice. Now, we encountered it again.

We entered the doctor’s waiting room. One other person was waiting, it turns out for someone in the doctor’s office. There was no nurse, just a buzzer that announced to the doctor in his office that another patient had arrived. We waited ten minutes, and then the doctor opened his door, sent his patient on her way, and invited us in. He had no nurse. His examining table and equipment was toward the back of the office and his desk, in front of which he invited us to sit, was just inside the door. A short conversation ensued during which Deb described her symptoms, he concurred with her diagnosis, and he looked up on his computer some drug information and then prescribed three drugs. How much? $30. Thank you so much. Then we walked back to the pharmacy, where Deb got the three prescriptions filled for $25. Viva la medicine en France!

We dinghied down to the other dinghy dock and walked into Port La Royale to buy some coffee for the boat and have croissants at a popular breakfast spot. We also checked the weather at the local marina before returning to the boat.

At noon we weighed anchor for Grand Case, arriving after a short sail at 13:40. We anchored, and I swam out to check the anchor. It was much deeper than we thought, so we let out some more chain - and then it occurred to me that the depth was in meters, not feet! Pay attention to the legend on those charts. In any case, we were well anchored, and we dinghied into Grand Case at 14:30 to partake in a lunch of freshly barbecued ribs at one of the several local bars just off the dinghy dock. (We had ribs at Chilis just the other day, and while Chilis baby back ribs are good, the ones in Grand Case were truly superb!)

Grand Case Bay is long and sweeping with a beautiful beach. The town is built along the beach, which is lined with restaurants and shops. Doyle’s guide calls it the “gastronomic center of St. Martin,” and we thought it lived up to this reputation. On Tuesday nights, which this just happened to be, they shut down the main street for music and street vendors and a general community jump-up. We walked for a couple of hours down the length of the main street and back, taking in all the various menus posted along the way. We finally made a reservation at L’Auberge Gourmand for dinner at 20:30, and then went out to the boat for a lie-down.

We were back by 19:00, and the party was beginning. We walked the length of the street again, soaking in the jump-up, and particularly enjoying a steel pan band. Our table on the front patio at L’Auberge Gourmand was ready for us when we wandered back up the street and we sat down for a truly gourmet dinner (escargot to start, then appetizers of frois gras and scallops, followed by dessert, and all washed down by a wonderful Beaujolais). We were satiated, and sat enjoying the passing throngs of people – more locals than tourists, I think – and soon we were up walking and dancing to the drum corps, a group of musicians who must have gone up and down the street a dozen times during the course of the evening.

January 3 – We slept in until 09:00, and finally got up only to sit down and read, have coffee and breakfast. This was the only meal we regularly had aboard on both charters, with lunch a close second. We decided that we were going to adjust our future provisioning to reflect this, and we would really cut down on food waste.

We went in for a walk on the beach, shopped at a little place called C’est La Vie, and had a nice lunch at Restaurant du Soleil overlooking the beach. We made a reservation for dinner that night at Il Nettuno, an Italian restaurant, and spent the afternoon relaxing on Big Foot. Dinner that night was lovely, overlooking the bay. We met a nice couple and closed the even with a nice conversation and Limoncello, a nice Italian after dinner liqueur we discovered in Nice.

January 4 – We had decided the day before that we’d return to the Sunsail base the day before our charter ended, thinking we had an early afternoon flight to catch on the 5th, so we weighed anchor around 10:00.

We had a nice sail across to Anguilla, where we tacked back to Tintamere (a small island opposite the entrance to Orient Bay on the east side of St. Martin). The seas were fairly big, with swells reaching eight feet, but the winds were steady between 15-20 knots. We sailed 13.2 nm at an average of 3.6 knots (maximum 5.9 knots) in 3:15 hours, arriving at Oyster Pond at about 13:15. Alcid from Sunsail met us at the dock, helped us tie up, and had a good chat. We spent the afternoon reading, doing some packing and relaxing aboard.

We had eaten so many rich and filling meals over the previous week, we skipped dinner and just had snacks. We went up to Nikko’s Yacht Club Bar around 20:00, and ended up spending a late evening there. Deb talked to Nikko about feng shuing the furniture in the bar, and Jim and Nikko both played the keyboards until 01:30. It was a special evening, and we promised to keep in touch with each other.

January 5 – Still aboard Big Foot, we finally were up around 09:00. We spent the morning cleaning up things on the boat. I sorted through the food that was left over. It wasn’t quite as bad as we’d imagined, but we still hadn’t touched the steak and chicken we’d bought, along with several other things (charcoal, ginger ale, vinegar, onions, garlic, green and red peppers, avocados, zucchini), and, perish the thought, a six-pack of beer and most of a bottle of Grey Goose that Deb had purchased. We left food for the Sunsail clean-up crew, gave some to one of the dock fellows we’d become acquainted with, and put a note in with the Grey Goose to leave it with Nikko as a bit of a thank-you gift.

Turns out our flight wasn’t in the early afternoon, but rather at 17:30. Nevertheless, we disembarked at noon, and spent the afternoon relaxing at Captain Oliver’s bar, watching boats come and go from Oyster Pond.

We departed St. Maarten’s airport and landed on Tortola shortly after 18:00, where we got a taxi into the Fort Burt Hotel and soon were having a martini served up by our friend Sharon.

January 6 – We arose early, managed to get breakfast at the Fort Burt Hotel even though the breakfast cook was late arriving, and started the long day of travel back to the world. All our connections worked out with time to spare, and we spent most of the trip dreaming about our next visit to the Caribbean. As the saying goes: “we can hardly wait!”

More photos of St Martin cruise

British Virgin Islands, Spring Break 2006

2006-11-06T11:02:00.000-08:00

April 1-9 - Tortola, Peter Island, Marina Cay, Spanishtown, Saba Rock, Peter Island, and Norman Island

As soon as we returned home from our Christmas cruise in the U.S.V.I., the Princess declared we had to go back. It was just too cold in Northern California to wait another whole year, so we immediately chartered a 36' Beneteau through Conch Charters for Spring Break. And, we picked right, because March to April has turned out to be a record-breaking rainy season for the San Francisco Bay Area.

April 1 - We arrived in Tortola at 10 p.m., March 31st, and taxied to the Fort Burt Hotel. Next morning we awakened to sunny skies and looked down on the Roadtown harbor from our room. We walked across the street to check in with Conch Charters, took a taxi to the market to do our own provisioning (turns out there was a better market, which we'll know next time), had lunch at the Pub.

By 3 p.m. we were motoring out the harbor with Conch's main man, Miles, and in an hour or so we anchored in Little Harbor on Peter Island, where we spent a stormy first night.

For this, we both thought, we left California? Oy vey! Nevertheless, as I attested to by skimpy dress at our first dinner, it was toasty warm, even in the rain and wind. We road our anchor safely, and next morning awoke to find that other sailors who'd arrived at the anchorage before us and anchored with their sterns tied to shore had actually been blown uncomfortably close to the island.

April 2 - After a breakfast of eggs and toast, we had a lovely sail up the Sir Francis Drake Channel and around Beef Island to Marina Cay. It's like landing in the middle of a postcard. This little island surrounded by a reef and with a sheltered mooring field was simply wonderful. We went ashore, shopped at the Pusser's Rum Store, had a drink at the beach bar, and spent the rest of our time aboard our Beneteau, Elbereth.

April 3 - Morning treated us to a lovely sunrise, promising a sunny sailing day.
We had a leisurely sail back across the channel to the southern end of Virgin Gorda Island. We decided not to stop at the Baths, and sailed up the coast to Spanishtown, where we had booked a slip for the night. The scenery along the coast was lovely, and Deb truly enjoyed being at sea.

April 4 - We departed Spanishtown for the north sound of the Virgin Gorda Island, home to the famous Bitter End Yacht Club. On the way, Deborah "raced" a Beneteau 42, beating her handily. As we passed by the skipper could be seen studying just exactly what it was that we were doing that he wasn't, but he never caught on. We were moored at Saba Rock for a full a half-hour before the poor besotted soul finally arrived.

April 5 - The Bitter End Yacht Club - now there's a disappointment - overpriced and slick. Maybe if we'd been with a big group the "club's" fixed-price dinner parties would have been more appealing, but we much preferred Saba Rock. Saba Rock is a truly lovely spot, and we decided to stay for a full day and dinghy about the sound. We motored up Biras Creek, stopped off at the Fat Virgin's Cafe (and gift shop), spent a bit of time at the Bitter End watching a bunch of Swan boats come in on a rally and buying the obligatory t-shirts, and returned to sun ourselves on the deck of Elbereth.
A bit of reading and eventually we found our way to the Saba Rock restaurant, where we met a very nice couple who gave us a tour of their Little Harbor 46, all high-gloss teak and in bristol shape. It was a glorious day, and we spent the evening barbecuing and planning our next day's sail to Cooper Island.

April 6 - We departed for Cooper Island, a pretty fair sail of 15 miles north and then west down the Sir Francis Drake Channel. The mooring field at Cooper Island had perhaps the clearest blue water we experienced, and we had a great dinner at the Cooper Island Beach Club and watched the sun set in pastel beauty over Salt Island to the west.

April 7 - It was a wonderful sailing day, with a brisk 15 knot wind. We sailed up the channel a bit, and then turned back and south between Cooper and Salt islands. This took us on a beam reach to the south of the BVI chain, and when we had gotten out far enough to tack northwest on a close reach, we turned and went back between Peter and Norman islands, finally going around Norman Island to its harbor, the Bight.

What a fun time for our last night. We had drinks at the Pirates Bight restaurant and lounged about on the boat for a time. Deborah took artsy photos of her foot plowing the water from the dinghy, and we found our way to the "Willy T," a floating restaurant that's a replica of a topsail lumber schooner where Deborah attracted a new friend - had me worried for a minute, until his wife appeared. We were sound asleep by 9 p.m.

April 8 - The end of our cruise. We sailed across the channel to Roadtown on a close haul, jib reefed, mainsail up full, in 15+ knots of wind. It felt a lot like the San Francisco Bay on a good day, but with the distinct difference that it was 80 degrees outside. When we tack just off Tortola, a gust of wind caught one of the four sitting pads on Elbereth, and we got an unexpected opportunity to do a "man-overboard" drill. It took us four passes in and 15 minutes, but we managed to hook the pad and pull it back on board.

We returned Elbereth to its Conch Charter home, had lunch at the Pub next to the Conch headquarters, and checked in to our "home away from home," room 107 at the Fort Burt Hotel. That night we had the best meal we had anywhere in the Virgin Islands, at the New England Culinary Institute branch that operates at the hotel - it hasn't found its way into the guidebooks yet, but it will! A fitting end to our escape from rainy, wintery northern California (where it is still raining as I write this).

U.S. Virgin Islands, Christmas 2005

2005-12-31T11:00:00.000-08:00

December 18-29 – St. Thomas, St. John, & St. Croix

Okay, okay. It doesn’t get as cold in California as in the northeast or the old northwest, but that doesn’t mean folks from the Bay Area don’t crave warmer weather in December. Just ask my partner Deborah, who is always cold! So, why are you not surprised to hear that we took flight to the Caribbean?

With our boat-builder and erstwhile mechanic friend, Rob, we embarked on December 18th for the U.S. Virgin Islands. It was an eventful day of travel, starting with our plane out of SFO being turned around on the runway and being met at the gate by paramedics to take off a sick passenger, and ending mid-evening in St. Thomas to discover that Rob’s and Jim’s checked bags had been lost along the way.

We had not planned to check anything, but SFO bag and ticket checkers are pretty strict about size. If the plane out of Miami to St Thomas before ours had not been turned around because of mechanical problems and all its passengers bumped onto our flight (as if there was room) and their bags loaded ahead of ours, it might not have been a problem, but enough of logistics.

A night without clothes is not a problem, so we found our way to the Palms Court Harbor View Hotel, got the night manager to get us a couple of beers, and took in the night view of Charlotte Amalie, capitol of the U.S. Virgin Islands.

Next morning we got a daylight view of this cruise-ship center.

December 19 – We took a taxi to American Yacht Harbor in Red Hook on the northeast end of St. Thomas, where we checked in with Island Yachts and got aboard our 2003 Island Packet 370.

During the next week, we would sail about 115 nautical miles and anchor or moor at four bays in St. John and at two bays in St. Croix, but this first day was a hassle to say the least.

After checking out on the boat, Deb stayed aboard to get familiar with things, while Rob and I grabbed a taxi for a 45 minute ride back to the airport to look for our luggage. Alas, our bags were not there, and telephone calls to American Airlines only resulted in the unsettling news that our bags were not in their “lost-bag system” (throughout our trip, the bags never got into the AA system).

Bent on not letting this dampen our trip, Rob and I purchased a few essentials (t-shirts, shorts, toothbrushes), and I got a prescription filled at a local pharmacy. We decided to buy provisions the next morning, and we adjourned to the Caribbean Steakhouse for drinks and dinner.

December 20 – Up early, we had breakfast at Molly Malone’s and then went shopping at the Marina Market for a week’s provisions. We got better quality food than provisioning through the charter company, but because nobody wanted to sit down and plan a list – it’s a challenge having three type-A personalities trying to cooperate – we didn’t do as well on the whole provisioning thing as we could have.

By early afternoon there was still no word on our bags, so we shoved off for St. John, a short, 5 nm sail, discovering that the genoa sheet carts were too far aft and the boomvang and traveller were so encrusted with salt residue that they were nigh on impossible to adjust (maintenance…well, it’s a charter boat, even if it is almost brand new).

By 16:00 we had captured a mooring in Caneel Bay, home to a fancy resort ashore built on the site of an 18th Century Sugar Plantation. It didn’t take long to settle in.

December 21 – After a nice breakfast, Deb and I went ashore, where we visited the Caneel Bay Resort gift shop. I had a martini at the beach bar, listening to a Caribbean musical group. It was a great disappointment that we encountered only two such groups during our entire trip, and they always seemed just ready to go on break.

Because a lot of ferries and other commercial maritime traffic passed by the opening to Caneel Bay, it got pretty roily so we decided to press on to a quieter spot – Maho Bay a small distance up the island.

We dropped our mooring at 14:55 and motored the 3-4 nm to Maho amid rain squalls, arriving at 16:00. After the rain let up, I took the dinghy around the bay to find (unsuccessfully) the mooring payment station. I returned to find Rob and Deb watching a very large barracuda hanging about our boat, which, over rum that night, Deb enjoyed describing immensely.

December 22 – More beer! Clearly our provisioning was not successful. So, first thing in the morning, we dinghied ashore and climbed up a very long staircase to a little restaurant and store, where we breakfasted as well as added to our meager provisions, taking as much as we could carry down the stairs. Unfortunately, Rob took stumble at the water’s edge when going back to the boat, which led to drying out his wallet and papers. This, of course, meant kicking back and enjoying the sun.

At 12:15, still not hearing anything about our luggage and with Rob (as you can see) feeling quite good about himself, we departed Maho Bay and sailed via Jost Van Dyke and Tortola in the British Virgin Islands to Coral Bay, on the east end of St. John, about 20 nm.

It was a good sail up toward Yost Van Dyke, whence we tacked southeast between Great Thatch and Little Thatch Islands and Tortola, passing Soper’s Hole, and moving into Sir Francis Drake Channel. Good winds in the channel allowed us to get up to the east end of St. John on two tacks, although Deb and Rob panicked at one point, quite sure I was going to lead them on to the rocks near St. John.

Nevertheless, with Deb at the helm, we arrived at Coral Bay at 16:30, and dropped anchor in the harbor rather crowded with local boats.

Coral Harbor is said to be “home to some wonderfully eccentric and dedicated cruising sorts,” and is “more of a haven from the tourists, rather than a tourist destination” (So say Nancy & Simon Scott in The Cruising Guide to the Virgin Islands, 12 ed. [2004], p. 250.). True to this description, the skipper of the one of the boats we anchored near never gave us more than a scowl.

Clearly, we were tourists, so to that end we quickly found our way to Skinny Legs Bar and Grill for beer and “the best burgers in St. John” (Frommer’s Virgin Islands, 7th ed. [2003], p. 154). With full stomachs, we retreated early to our Honah Lee, our Island “Piglet,” so we could rise with the sun for our next day’s journey to St. Croix.

December 23 – After a night of heavy rains and wind, through which the undersized Bruce anchor held firmly in the mud bottom, we arose at dawn to clearly skies.

I made the morning’s obligatory coffee, which we sipped in the cockpit until our 08:00 departure time. Once we reached into the Caribbean heading toward St. Croix, almost 40 nm to the south, the seas reflected the impact of the previous night’s storm. Swell directions were confused and conditions were generally choppy, almost like home on a sloppy day in “slot” on San Francisco Bay. But the sun was out (most of the time), and Deborah had a magnificent time hogging the helm (as is her wont).

The passage was uneventful but for passing too close for comfort by an unmarked coral head east of Buck Island off the northeast corner of St. Croix. Rob was at the helm, so naturally we named the coral head for him, and he immediately ordered me to the bow to insure we had no more close encounters.

Soon we navigated through the reef guarding Teague Bay, home to the St. Croix Yacht Club. By 16:30 we were anchored; however, since the bottom was a combination of grass and sand and a few derelicts bobbed about in the anchorage, for security we put out our second anchor, a good size Danforth.

Deb and I went ashore to the yacht club, leaving Rob aboard to enjoy his solitude. What a great night! Commodore Joe San Martin and Julie San Martin (who together are running the 13th annual St. Croix International Regatta this February) treated us royally, as did Captain Willy T. Johnson and Milly Johnson . Milly gave us a St. Croix Yacht Club burgee in exchange for an Encinal Burgee, which they did not have, and we had great drinks and food at the club.

December 24 – Thank goodness for two anchors. During the night, with winds touching 25 knots, the Bruce anchor (all chain rode), had worked lose, but and we were held fast by the Danforth with only about 50 feet of scope. We had drifted back a few yards, but were safely secured from a small reef still 50 or more yards astern. By 12:00 we weighed anchor and headed out for Christiansted, the main city on St. Croix, which was established by Denmark in the 18th Century. Fort Chistiansvaern, complete with cannons, still dominates the wharf front.

We motored the 4-5 nm slowly, keeping a careful eye out for crab pots and unmarked reefs, and by 15:00 anchored in Gallows Bay just off the local’s fishing pier.

FREE BEER TOMORROW! shouted out the sign Stixx on the Waterfront.

Need beer! Need rum! Need ice! Lunch at the Golden Rail in the St. Croix Marine yard, and shopping at Gallows Bay super market, a few blocks away, prepared us for Christmas Eve.

Christmas in the tropics is unexpected, but there it is – trees, ornaments, blow-up Santa’s and reindeer, and elves. We strolled down the harbor-front wharf or boardwalk, looked at boats festooned with holiday lights, and wound up having dinner at Tivoli Gardens, where the food was unremarkable but the open-air splendid.

We finished the night at the RumRunners, a hotel bar and restaurant right on the waterfront where Deborah claims to have captured a No-see-um. The problem of course, with the documentary photograph, is you can’t see-um.

December 25 – In my mind, the Hotel on the Cay – that is on Protestant Cay, a three-acre island in the middle of Christiansted’s harbor – is notable landmark. With it's little boat taxis forever transporting guests to and from the cay to the Christiansted wharf front, there's no doubt the Hotel on the Cay inspired the hotel in Herman Wouk’s wonderful Caribbean novel Don’t Stop the Carnival. If you haven't read the adventures of Norman Paperman's quitting the New York City rat race for the sunny Caribbean to loll about in the sunshine amidst scantily-clad beauties and be King of one's own alcohol-induced domain, you must. And, if you've read it once, you'll want to read it again.

Late on Christmas morning, Deb and I took the dinghy in for a brunch and afterwards shopped in what stores were open for the tourist trade (mostly jewelry stores), and just as it was closing its doors at 14:00 in the afternoon, made it to Fong’s, the only open convenience store in town, to stock up on – you guessed it – more beer. And, Deb discovered “After-bite,” which proved to be a boon to ease the itching of No-see-um bites. Unfortunately, we couldn’t carry along ice, which we needed and would have to do without for a couple of days.

December 26 – Weighing anchor (the Danforth) at 0825, we embarked on a gorgeous, sunny passage back to St. John. Honah Lee reached 5.5 knots (quite good for a piglet) and even held 4 knots in a 9 knot wind on a full beam in flat seas. Rob became more and more relaxed as our cruise week progressed; I believe he was in heaven these last three days.

We arrived at Little Lameshur Bay around 1530 and picked up a mooring. Ice was now a thing of the past, but we still had a six-pack of beer, a couple of bottles of rum, and a working refrigeration system, and we watched a most beautiful sunset that evening!

December 27 – We arose late, even though we had gone to bed around 20:00. Having found and digested "island time," we decided to stay for another night. So we spent the day taking a dinghy ride, sunbathing, sleeping, reading, and swimming. We cooked a nice vegetable stir-fry for dinner and spent a wonderful evening in rum-soaked conversation.

December 28 – Up at 07:00, coffee and breakfast. Deb started packing her stuff up, and we dropped the mooring at 08:00 and motor-sailed west along the south shore of St. John toward St. Thomas, the morning sun glistening astern.

We arrived at Red Hook at 10:30, an hour-and-a-half ahead of our deadline, where we took on diesel fuel and berthed Honah Lee. The Island Yacht folks were surprised we only used 11.68 gallons of diesel – apparently we sailed a lot more than other charterers. Even better news awaited in the shape of our lost luggage, which had been delivered the day we sailed from Coral Bay to St. Croix.

After clearing Island Yachts, we taxied over to the Palms Court Harbor View Hotel, showered, dressed in clean clothes, and walked down to visit the shops in Charlotte Amalie and have a couple of drinks.

On the advice of our taxi driver, we found Cuzzin’s, which proudly boasted that the Virgin Island Daily News had selected it as the best ethnic (Caribbean) food in the U.S. Virgin Islands. We had conch (pronounced “konk”), and it was by far the best meal we had the entire trip. A fitting end to a wonderful cruise!

Windward Islands Log, April 2005

2005-04-30T10:36:00.000-07:00

April 16-25 – in St. Vincent and the Grenadines

Just as the weather seemed to be clearing up for good sailing in our home waters, Deborah and I set off for Los Angeles to join our friends Hilary and Layne Ballard and four other members of southern California’s Marina Sailing Club, Tom and Robin Blake and Pat and Karen Egger, for a weeklong bareboat charter in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Our boat was one of a flotilla of seven, which was a bit of a crowd in my mind but worked out well enough.

the Moorings 4500 catamaran, which, with a 34-foot beam, features a sizable main salon, equally large cockpit, and four separate cabins and heads

Tom Blake skippered the boat, and I served as first mate. During the course of the week we sailed about 120 nautical miles and anchored or moored at eight islands. Loads of details about St. Vincent and the Grenadines as well as the other island nations to the north, Martinique and St. Lucia, and to the south, Grenada, can be found in Chris Doyle’s Sailors Guide to the Windward Islands - comprehensive information is given on the islands' history, people, and societies, and on harbors, marine facilities, restaurants, shopping, lodging, and general travel information.

April 16 – Arrival on the Island of Canouan and Moorings headquarters at the Tamarind Beach Hotel in Charlestown Bay. Our crew was to go aboard our boat that afternoon, since hotel space had run out, but first the Moorings staff took our personal gear out to our boat, Liseron, which was moored a few hundred yards from the Moorings loading docks, and Cap'n Tom and I followed along to get an orientation to the boat.

the Moorings access dock at Canouan

A bit later, Layne (assigned to the main sail and as navigator, since he had a GPS) and Hilary (in charge of dinghy security, fenders, and leading morning exercises) joined me aboard, and we inventoried galley provisions, particularly discovering that we’d not ordered sufficient beer for the duration. (Our inventory was not very effective, it turns out, because we discovered within a day or so we had been shorted some items and not received others).

a small portion of seven days provisioning

We ended our first day with dinner at the Tamarind Beach Hotel, learning that one could indeed transport eight sailors in a single ten-foot dinghy. High in (and on) spirits, we dinghied back to Liseron for our first night aboard.

April 17 - Canouan to Mayreau - 7 nm

We arose bright and early this morning and loaded ourselves into the dinghy to have a sit-down breakfast at the Tamarind Beach Hotel. Because folks in the rest of the Marina Sailing Club’s flotilla had to get checked out on their boats that morning, we had a lot of time on our hands.

skippers meeting and chart talk

Cap’n Tom and I went to a general information meeting and chart talk for skippers and first mates, while Layne worked on getting his diving tanks filled and others gathered up fins and snorkels and wandered around the area. Hurry up and wait seems a universal trait of large operations, and the problems of getting some twenty boats away that weekend was compounded by the fact that everything had to be dinghied out to the boats since there were no usable docking facilities, and for some inexplicable reason, although we were checked out on Liseron the day before, we ended up being almost the last boat out.

Eventually, we let go the mooring and sailed off on the first leg of our adventure, destination Salt Whistle Gay on Mayreau Island, about seven nautical miles to the south. Cruising under the burgee of our own Encinal Yacht Club in Alameda, we got used to the cat, tweaked the sails, and made six to seven knots over ground on a beam reach. All through the trip, it often seemed to me like sailing on San Francisco Bay on a nice winter day, with the clear exception that it was 85 degrees F. rather than 55-60.

We arrived to a relatively crowded anchorage at Salt Whistle Bay, and had to make several tries at anchoring, with me at the windlass, Cap’n Tom at the helm, and Layne diving the anchor each time to help us get it set. Every sailing day is a learning experience, and we finally discovered the secret of setting the CQR.

Our next order of business: a swim ashore for a couple of fruit-filled rum drinks at the beach bar and shopping for our first souvenirs from a local vendor.

We caught a ride back to the boat with a local “boat boy,” and had great fun cheering (and photographing) a French wedding party on an adjacent cat.

the wedding party

At four bells, we went to a flotilla party on Cool Change, after which we ended the evening with a barbecued steak dinner aboard our own boat, courtesy of Pat and Karen and Robin, highlighted our day. And we enjoyed one of the best sunsets of the trip.

April 18 – Mayreau to Tabago Cays – 3 nm

One of the most touted anchorages in the Grenadines is the Tabago Cays. A group of small uninhabited islands protected from the sea by a Horseshoe Reef, the Cays are treasured for snorkeling, diving, and stargazing at night. Only a three mile journey, we motored over after breakfast. Soon after we got out of Salt Whistle Bay, we discovered that the motor on the dinghy had not been pulled up and that water was fast filling her.

we only hoisted the dinghy onto the stern davits once

We stopped long enough for Layne to get in the dinghy and raise the motor, and proceeded on without further incident. We found a comfortable spot to anchor, and this time set the anchor on the first try. Layne went off for a dive, and the rest of us spent the day swimming, snorkeling, and lying about.

it was Liseron’s turn to host the flotilla party, and our galley team, Pat and Karen, prepared hors d’ouevres and created the best rum punch of the entire cruise. We dinghied ourselves and our punch and hors d’ouevres to one of the small islands where the flotilla had arranged with some locals for a lobster and fish barbecue.

Hilary, Layne, Deborah, Robin, Pat, Karen, and Cap'n Tom await the party goers

April 19 – Tabago Cays to Petit St. Vincent (via Canouan and Union Island) – 30 nm.

We discovered during the afternoon at Tabago Cays that our water tanks were almost empty. Cap’n Tom and I had been told during the boat orientation that they had been filled. We had seen that the fuel gauges registered full and took the Moorings’ staff person’s word on the water – well, live and learn. We should have checked. We decided to return to Canouan for water in the morning as well as for beer, more ice, and the missing provisions that we had overlooked in our first rather careless inventory of provisions.

We weighed anchor, set the sails, and had a brisk sail up to Canouan. We filled up both water tanks (211 gallons) and got provisioned in under two hours, and were on our way south again, this time to Petit St. Vincent, the southern most island of the Grenadines. On the way we decided to stop in Clifton Harbor on Union Island. We anchored easily and dinghied ashore to shop for souvenirs, fresh vegetables, and, of course, a piña colada. Within two hours we were on our way to Petit St. Vincent.

Petit St. Vincent is a private island, as Deborah and I discovered when we snorkeled ashore and decided to walk along the beach. A security guard shooed us back to the landing, the only public part of the island. That night we had dinner aboard,

April 20 – Petit St. Vincent to Bequia (via Chatham Bay) – 35 nm

a lovely sunrise awakened me at Petit St. Vincent. Deborah slept through it, but it buoyed my spirits the whole day through.

We set out around 0900 for our longest single day’s sail. We decided to stop at Chatham Bay, on the lee side of Union Island, on our way up to the Island of Bequia (pronounced Bequa) We had a broad reach past the south end of Union Island, and along the way the lower batten on the mainsail slipped out of its forward holder and began edging out of the sail. This was the second time the batten had slipped out and not the last, but the only time it slipped forward out of the sail rather back. The full batten sails on these Moorings cats are pretty beaten up, and the battens are always getting hung up in the lazy jacks when hoisting sail. Really quite a pain in the neck. In any case, the batten was slipping forward fairly steadily, and Layne and I decided the best solution was to hoist someone aloft (about fifteen feet) and push it back in and secure it. Layne took on the challenge, using an extra halyard in which he fabricated a bosun’s harness (I’m sure I couldn’t do it, even after watching him), and I winched him up with Pat tailing the line. It took only a minute or two, and Layne was back on deck safely, all of us thrilled at the accomplishment.

before the mast...oops, on the mast (apologies to Richard Henry Dana)

After spending a couple of hours anchored in Chatham Bay, we set out for Admirality Bay at Bequia. I took the helm and found a good close reach for the entire 30-mile passage. We averaged about 7 knots over ground, and easily found a safe anchorage off the recommended Princess Margaret Beach at Port Elizabeth.

Port Elizabeth is a lovely setting. We had another gorgeous sunset, which gradually became richer as we dinghied in for dinner at L’Augerge des Grenadines.

Deborah and Hillary paused for a photo with the sunset (as did everybody else), and then we feasted. I was falling asleep by the end of dinner, but when the music started, I was the first to “jump up” and dance. The sad part was that everyone else was so tired, we only did one dance and then headed out to Liseron for the night.

April 21 – Bequia to St. Vincent – 8 nm

With only a short sail over to Young Island Cut on the largest of the Grenadines, the Island of St. Vincent, we decided to while away most of the day in Port Elizabeth. Layne took advantage of the lull to find some other adventurers to go diving, and Deborah and Hilary bought some scrimshaw from Willy, a local craftsman who rowed himself about the anchorage in his little dinghy No Complain.

what a nice little tender

We visited every shop in the village, acquired a souvenir here and there, and eventually had lunch at the Gingerbread.

from the dining porch of the Gingerbread

The sail over to Young Island Cut was short and sweet. We were met by Gringo of Sam Taxi & Tours, who led us to a mooring (the cruising guide recommended him as well as mooring rather than anchoring in Young Island Cut because of currents). Layne and I dinghied over to a nearby dive spot that he wanted to check out, and soon after our return, Hillary and I went over to the night’s party boat for a rum punch, and then we joined the rest of our mates and headed into shore for dinner at Ocean Allegro.

ready for dinner at Young Island Cut

On our return from dinner, we discovered that the mooring we were tied to had drifted, and the skipper of an adjacent 30-foot sloop was very concerned that we were going to run across him. We determined that we had to tie onto another mooring. By the light of the moon, which thankfully was almost full, we sought out another mooring to tie off the stern. The first we found literally broke off its anchoring line in our hands. The second one we found, determined to be a solid one by Layne, who was by this time in the dinghy, was too far away for our mooring line. I took the 100-foot rode off the second anchor, and with Deborah at the helm, keeping Liseron away from the smaller sloop and edging her way toward the second mooring ball, Layne managed to feed the anchor rode through the mooring and back to me. We slowly turned the boat and tied it off securely. It was tense at the time, a bit too much hand-waving and shouting probably, but in the end we were secured. Unfortunately, the boat now lay abeam the wind, so those of us in the port cabins and now on the lee side spent a pretty warm night aboard.

April 22 – St. Vincent to Mustique – 16 nm

At sunrise, both Layne and I were up and we decided to release the original mooring and bring the boat around so the new mooring was at the bow. We did it quietly, and when everyone awoke they hadn’t even realized we’d done it. Ahhh, the pride we had in ourselves.

The change of mooring balls, however, created a bit of an argument between Gringo, who owned the first mooring ball that drifted, and Charlie Tango, who owned the second mooring ball to which we were tied in the morning. Charlie came by to tell us we were on his ball and collect, and Gringo came by to collect for his. We agreed to pay Charlie Tango, got a receipt, and finally Gringo’s boss, Sam, came by and magnanimously agreed we owed him nothing.

We had decided on our arrival at Young Island Cut to top off our water tanks. Gringo said he was arranging a water re-supply for a couple of other boats in the morning, so we arranged to be at the water mooring at 1100 hours, which would give Layne and Hilary a chance to complete their diving and snorkeling. When we finally got over there, and after dropping our boat hook in an ill-fated attempt to grab the water-mooring ball, we discovered that the fellow supplying water had packed up and gone somewhere else a half-hour earlier – since we paid Charlie Tango for a mooring ball and not him, perhaps Gringo told the water supplier he was done before we came over.

In any case, Cap’n Tom radioed over to the Blue Lagoon Marina, just on the other side of Young Island Cut, and they said they’d give us water, so off we went. Blue Lagoon has a very narrow entrance between surrounding reefs, which Cap’n Tom negotiated well. We gradually circled amongst two score moored boats while a marina worker checked on our getting water. At one point we hit the sand bottom, which Cap’n Tom readily got us off, and then we discovered it would be a two to three hour wait to get water. Since it was already noon, we opted to head out to Mustique and do with the water we had left.

The sail to Mustique was lovely. On a close reach with Deborah at the helm, we closed up the distance between another of the flotilla’s cats by at least two miles and had perhaps a half-mile to overtake them. Inexplicably, Cap’n Tom radioed the other cat and told them to be ready when we breezed by, which, of course, alerted them to get all they could out of their sails. We could close no more, and I’m convinced they turned on their engine as well, since they pulled further ahead of us. Always a race somewhere!

passage to Mustique

The anchorage at Britannia Bay on the Island of Mustique is one of the nicest we were in. A bit roily when the wind’s up, it nevertheless faces a really nice little village.

Mustique is legendary for the rich and famous who own second (or third or fourth) homes there, among them (or reputed to be): Mick Jagger, Princess Margaret, Raquel Welch. After the obligatory swim and snorkel, Layne and Hilary agreed to join Deborah and I for dinner at the Firefly.

The description of the Firefly, which pointed out that “regulars gather round the bar in the evening and a piano occasionally inspires one of them to play,” was right up my alley. So, while the others went into Basil’s Bar (home to a growing blues festival in January/February), we feasted at the Firefly, and true to owners Stan and Elizabeth’s promise, I ended up playing the grand piano (last played by Phil Collins or George Michael or Mick Jagger, depending on who you listened to) for almost three hours. The promise of free dinners for Deborah and me if we returned the next night was enticing, but none of us had decided on the next day’s sail, so we just enjoyed the moment!

April 23 – Mustique

local fishermen

The next morning, Cap’n Tom, who had suffered from too much sun the day before, allowed that he’d just as well stayed moored in Mustique for another day and night (we’d had to pay for three days moorage anyway), and we all agreed that a day exploring the island would be worthwhile. So we all set off to see the island. After wandering around the village, Deborah and I had lunch at Basil’s Bar and then took a taxi tour around part of the island, ending up at Macaroni Bay on the windward side.

the white sands at Macaroni Bay

That night, Pat and Robin and Hilary and Layne joined us at the Firefly for dinner again, and true to his word Stan comped dinner for Deborah and me, a dinner for which I gladly played another couple of hours.

April 24 – Mustique to Canouan (via Friendship Bay on Bequia) – 25 nm.

While it was “opening day” on San Francisco Bay today, we set off in the morning for our “closing day” of sailing in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Layne and I arose early, finding Pat already up – Pat got up every morning at 5:30 or so and made coffee for all of us, a task which we’ll all forever be grateful. Although Pat wasn’t sure Cap’n Tom would be agreeable (even though we assured him we’d spoken to the Cap’n the night before), he gave us a hand raising the mainsail. Although there wasn’t much wind, we let go the mooring and attempted to catch enough to sail us away. Unfortunately the current was stronger than the wind, and as we drifted toward a nice cruiser to starboard, I had to start engines and we motored away from a collision with just a few feet to spare. An inglorious moment, from which we soon recovered, put out the jib, and sailed off to to Friendship Bay.

in the early morning sun, Layne and I aren't too sure which way to head

Anchoring in Friendship Bay (my first time at the helm whilst anchoring) was done easily, and while Layne and Hilary went for an hour’s snorkeling, the rest of us lollygagged on board. At about 1100 hours, we weighed anchor and headed south for Canouan. Layne took the helm, and I enjoyed sitting out on the port bow seat for almost the entire trip down. We tacked into the northeast corner of the harbor at Canouan, and Layne managed to slowly maneuver Liseron onto the last remaining mooring ball there.

While Cap’n Tom dinghied in to settle affairs with the Moorings, we all packed up. In the midst of it, we were struck by the first real downpour of rain for the entire week. I was caught topside taking down my Encinal Yacht Club burgee and the Marina Sailing Club flag, and got my first complete fresh water shower in a week. Once we cleared the boat with our luggage, however, we all ended up spending our last night ashore and in hotel rooms, where everyone who wanted it got a warm shower.

one last cocktail at the Tamarind Beach Hotel (in the dark, because the electricity had failed)

Cap’n Tom most generously bought all of us in the crew dinner, and Deborah and I cracked open a 2000 Bourdeaux that we’d brought along. A fitting end to a wonderful cruise in the Windward Islands. When do we go again?