Author Archive | Gailfish

Before leaving the Caribbean, we were eager to put boat work aside and enjoy a bit more of the Windward Islands. We will miss Grenada and the weekly hashes but hope to see some of our cruising friends again.

Fortunately, Beth and David found some time in their schedules for a one week cruise from Grenada to St Lucia.  As much as we like and will miss Grenada, we were excited to push off towards the Grenadines.

I am not sure how much our guests appreciated the favorable breezes during our one week cruise. After last season’s continuously breezy upwind conditions, we were lucky to sail with the wind behind us, of course trying out every sail along the way.

At one point, we almost mutinied when Jason’s adherence to keeping the screecher up had us headed, albeit quickly, towards Nicaragua. Or maybe he was going to bear off more and start the trip to the canal?

Tobago Cays was beautiful but not the snorkeling paradise I was hoping for; while the winds were not howling, they were enough to muddy the waters.

Mustique proved to be my favorite Grenadine, yet again.

 

 

David reminded us that our best chance of catching a fish was to invite him aboard. He caught three tunas that week. Not only is he an expert fisherman but he provides sea to table cuisine; he served up delicious ceviche, bbq tacos and seared tuna.

Did I say no boat work for the week? Well, almost. We managed to squeeze in a fix to the furler, the door latch and an attempted fix to our water heater pressure relief valve.

Marigot Bay beckoned with flights home and Fed Ex’ing our chartplotter for rapid repair. It is fun to return to places we have been before and we again enjoyed the food at Masala Bay, Christmas Eve dinner at the Rainforest and daily workouts at Capella’s gym.

I wanted to try the local bakery, to see if they had any St Lucian holiday treats. I walked up the hill and couldn’t see any sign for a

bakery. I asked a shopkeeper where the bakery was and she pointed down the hill and told me it was just past the blue van, just as the blue van started pulling away. I walked down the road and asked a man who told me it was up

the road, just past the mango tree. I was too embarrassed to tell him that I had no idea what an out-of-season mango tree looked like and that my usual mango tree is in the fruit aisle at Fairway. I finally found the shop and bought some ginger cookies and coconut bread.

Now we have returned to Rodney Bay and the countdown to our departure towards the canal and points west begins.

After reintroducing ourselves to our wool clothing in Bogotá, we were looking forward to returning to sea level and the warm breezes of the Caribbean. I was expecting a continental version of some of the islands we visited this summer, but instead I found a place more redolent of the Brazilian ports we visited last year. The buildings and streets of the old town have a similar colonial feel to Recife and Paraty and the winds of the open ocean are evident in the bent palm trees along the shore.

I am fairly sure that true Cartageñans only enter the centro histórico when distant cousins are visiting, but we enjoyed being immersed in the touristy streets and museums. Pedro de Heredia founded Cartagena de Indias, (as opposed to Cartageña, Spain) in 1533, overtaking a Carib settlement. For many years, Spanish Galleons transported Peruvian and Mexican gold from

Cartageña to Spain. Columbia’s answer to the Erie canal was the Canal del Dique, which connects Cartageña to a major inland River. In advance of our visit, I started reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, a fantastical novel by Cartageñan Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The nobel prize winner has an accessible style, which I enjoyed. The lives of his characters are interwoven with strange visions such as a woman who eats dirt and worms, butterflies forever following a visitor and a few instances of a bit too high a genetic relationship in their progeny.

The walled city is a bit tough to navigate. The names on the street corners didn’t coincide with the paper map, Google maps, or Apple maps. We ran out of options. Fortunately, the area is small, and if you walk around in enough circles, eventually you will pass the building you are looking for. We visited The Museo Naval del Caribe. The exhibits looked interesting but all of the explanations are in Spanish and Rosetta Stone failed to cover the vocabulary of the great Columbian Naval battles. There were some short movies covering life aboard a battleship. It is always interesting to see the parallels between life aboard big and small ships; their anchor s just happen to be a bit bigger than Two Fish’s.

The Museo de Arte Moderno de Cartagena de Indias, was an easier place to visit, as interpretations of art in any language go over my head. One of the rooms was devoted to Enrique Grau, a Cartageñan artist, born in 1920.


The fascinating part was how varied his work was, both the mediums and subjects.

The final museum we visited was the Museo del Oro Zenú, a smaller version of the one we missed in Bogotá.

Relics from the Zenú dated back over 2000 years and were amazingly intricate. As you might imagine, a gold museum required an armed guard and a vault door. “Solo diez minutos,” the guard told us. The Naval Museum needed no such security.

After being

steeped in culture and food for a few days, we decided it was time for a bit of exercise, and headed to Bodytech in the modern,

Bocagrande section of town. The mall also contains a wonderful salad spot and a multiplex. Holá Mission Impossible!
The mall display corner shows an example of the Moais we will be visiting on Easter Island next week. Perhaps we should skip the long flight and take our selfies here?

May 5-18, 2015

After leaving St. Lucia, we sailed past St. Vincent and headed towards Bequia, the northernmost Grenadine. The 70 mile sail consisted of about 15 miles in the lee of St. Lucia, 20 miles between the islands, 20 miles along the coast of St. Vincent and another 15 miles through the current and waves towards Bequia. Despite the photos, Caribbean sailing is not the flat water downwind paradise that I had imagined. Even after we reached Martinique, we had more than our share of sailing to windward with varying amounts of current and waves against us. We have been told that this has been a particularly windy season, but I think in general, 20 to 25 is the expected wind at any time. Since it gets a bit annoying for me, I tend to be at the helm

along the lee of the island, while Jason helms the more open sea passages.

 

As we approached Bequia, Two Fish and Jason were thrilled to see Kenmore Henville  motor up in his dinghy to take some photos. This was at the point where I thought our sails should be coming down. Never mind, it was only blowing a consistent 30 knots. Most impressive was Kenmore’s ability to handle the camera and the dinghy with Two Fish barreling down on him.

Once we got into the harbor, we found a spot near Princess Margaret Beach. We weren’t too happy with the anchor set but stayed there anyway. The highlight of our stay was a small model boat museum, staffed by a boat builder. He escorted us through all of the models and photos, reliving his past. It was a great island for walking and looking at the various businesses. We even found a store with fresh lettuce. “Where is your lettuce from?”, I asked. “Miami,”, the woman responded.

[flat_divider]

On the third day, we went to shore so I could read my book and drink coffee while Jason went for a scuba dive. As we tied up the dinghy, he said “Keep an eye on Two Fish, in case she drags.” Thank you – there went my relaxation for the morning. After a third night of anchor anxiety, I said to Jason that we should either find a new spot, or leave. We weighed anchor and headed to Mustique.

 

Mustique is a bit like a theme park. All of the fancy houses are spread around the island, but every once in a while you walk down the wrong road and end up behind the scenes at the workers’ quarters or the golf cart repair lot.  Once you get beyond the first level, there are great paths and roads for hiking and the harbor is enjoyable. The day that we arrived, the harbor employees were conducting an oil spill drill. It was good to see how serious they were about containing any accident and I am sure they hoped they would never have to use their skills. A few of the Grenadines are owned by individuals, which is a bit tough to get your head around. Mustique was purchased in 1958 by Colin Tennant, who turned it into a party spot for the rich, royal and famous. Mick Jagger and Princess Margaret were noted visitors. It is now owned by the Mustique corporation and is a bit less of a party spot.

On our first hike, we noted some red rings around several trees and figured the rings were marking the path. A bit later, we read the sign that noted that the trees were red rings were maniocheel trees, extremely poisonous to the touch. Good thing we didn’t hug the trees. Besides the hiking, we had a fun afternoon watching local cricket and Jason had what he considers to have been his best Caribbean Roti at Firefly. I had the flying fish sandwich.

One of Jason’s favorite pastimes is helping boats tie up to mooring balls and docks. Mustique was no exception as Jason kept an eye out for candidates. The bonus is that we often meet some very nice people. Here Jason helped Elpis tie up and we hung out with Umberto and Anne for a few days, visiting the Cotton House and talking boats. Umberto is a guitarist but he has circumnavigated solo and is just as eager to talk boats as music.  Anne is the best-dressed boat crew I have seen. She claims that they left Europe so quickly that she didn’t have time to buy boat clothes. Many boaters complain about Mustique because they are only passing through for a night and the mooring balls are charged in increments of 3 nights. We stayed through two cycles! I am looking forward to returning.

Next stop was Chatham Bay on Union Island, at the foot of the Grenadines. It is an interesting bay; every two or three minutes, a howling wind tears through the bay. Then it stops. Then it starts. You get the picture. It is also far from any town but has a few restaurants, all vying for your business. We were there for several days and discovered that as long as you patronize a place once, they stop bothering you. Jason enjoyed paddling the harbor every evening, until the French boats showed up with their unclothed crew. It has been a surprise to us that many upper-middle-aged Europeans enjoy wandering around their boat in the buff. As soon as the anchor is “set”, off comes the Speedo for a walk around the boat.

For our trip into Clifton to check out, we got a ride from one of the businessmen. The car was a decomposed Volvo-who needs floorboards? It was a nice town, but the harbor looked crowded and rolly, so we were glad that we had chosen to anchor at Chatham.  We walked home, and passed by our namesake guest house, but did not go in.

After a few days of peaceful floating with bouts of gusts, we decided to move on, so we prepared for a sail South towards Carriacou.

April 24-May 4, 2015

The origin of St. Lucia’s name is not clear. It was, not surprisingly, inhabited by the Caribs,

who might have called it Iouanalao, where the Iguana is found.

What we found was a very green island, and to call it hilly with winding roads would be an understatement. It is a volcanic island and I doubt that the many Europeans who claimed it as their possession, went very far inland. It is known to have had 14 different flags from 1660 to 1814. As a constitutional

monarchy, it is a member of the British Commonwealth. Queen Elizabeth II is head of state and is represented by a Governor-General, but the island is governed by a Prime Minister and a Parliament. Their fun fact is that St. Lucia has more Nobel laureates per capita than any other country.(2 per 181,000 people).

Rodney Bay was a marina stop for us, which meant cleaning the boat, doing some routine maintenance and fixing some odds and ends. One of our key tasks before next year, was to have our liferaft serviced. We accompanied the mechanic to his shop-I was in the cab, Jason in the back being bounced around with the liferaft.  Ever notice Jason has the dirty jobs, underwater jobs and the dangerous jobs?  We watched as our liferaft was tested. I was pleased to see that there actually was a liferaft in the canister. It was also great to familiarize ourselves with the inflated structure. Outdated water and batteries were replaced and the raft was packaged up again.  How can water go bad?  The marine industry sure knows how to use fear to get into the bank account.

 

I joined the crew of Receta for a pleasant walk to the ocean side, complete with sighting of

rocket booster debris and lots of Sargassum. Speculation on the internet is that it is from a satellite launch, and if you have a few hours to spare, you can read the debate on which satellite it might be from and whether it is, or isn’t made of titanium.

Jason went for a dive with the newly-opened dive center down the block.  He was saw sea horses and a fish swimming with her eggs in her mouth waiting for them to hatch.  Rodney Bay is a short dinghy ride from some great supermarkets and a short bus ride from Castries Market. On one of my supermarket dinghy ride, I slowed down near one of the docks and a Jack Russell terrier jumped in. I was backing away when I realized he was there;  we were at least 5 feet away when he jumped back onto the dock. I hardly knew what had happened. At Castries Market, Ann and Steve  helped us navigate the local varieties; my favorite new fruit was the wax apple and my least favorite, the soursop.

At Marigot Bay, I stepped up my Jason torture. We watched the original Dr. Dolittle movie, which was filmed in Marigot Bay. Now the bay is developed, but during the filming there was nothing there, so it looked like a remote South Pacific island.  Apart from the sing-a-long to the theme song, it was sort of a bust. Even I had to fast forward through portions of it. Jason was impressed with the huge Great Pink Sea Snail that also offered oceanic passages.  The bay itself was murky but pleasant, with some nice hiking trails and use of the hotel gym.  When living in paradise on a boat you miss some of the taken for granted luxuries available onshore.  The bug-free, car about to run you over-free gym is a luxury that we could not miss. The only downside was that some of our fellow Antares owners had experienced mooring drift while there. That is their boats drifted when the poorly maintained moorings failed. Jason was again tossed in the water to tie a back-up line to the anchor block. He couldn’t see through the muck so had to follow the chain to get there.  A new sport of braille Scuba has been created.  I think next time we will just tie a rolling hitch to the mooring line below the ball.

 

April 16-23, 2015

We have had the pleasure of meeting many Volvo dealers in the Americas, many with excellent service, some not. Our dock and technicians at Case Pilote in Martinique were uniquely wonderful.  We had heard rave reviews of the Martinique dealer from a fellow cruiser who replaced his Volvo with this dealer’s help.  This seemed like the perfect time to do an overhaul on our engines in preparation for our Pacific crossing.

About 100 feet of the local fishing pier is earmarked for Inboard Diesel and Two Fish had a reserved seat.  Upon tying up, we noticed that we had a small

tree wrapped around our rudder. We wondered how we hadn’t noticed it while sailing. Jason opined that it had cost us half a knot.  Diving under the boat is a blue job so Jason dove to remove the tree.  However,  I wrestled the tree to a safe place, where it wouldn’t fall back in the water and cause a headache for another boat.

Around 5 pm was fishing time and we observed lots of lines being thrown, with little output but much relaxation. The boats that went out to sea seemed to have better luck. Another method utilized in the harbor was to string out a fishing net and haul it into shore. Fortunately, Two Fish and her propellers were a hundred yards away.

It was a nice change from our usual cruising harbor to be in an industrious small town with its own rhythm. There was a small supermarket and bakery and a sub-standard pizza joint. What else explains why when told we could get 2 for 1 pizzas, I responded: that’s okay, we’ll just take one.

We saw a sign for a night market and eagerly planned our day around the visit. We approached the plaza and saw the six

tables of participants, one of whom was selling old books. I saw someone frying bits of something and asked for a dozen assorted. My French couldn’t keep up with what they told me they were, but I figured it couldn’t be too bad. They were a mix of donuts and fish balls, both pretty good. Jason was meanwhile enthralled by the announcer who was circulating among the six tables with a portable microphone. The announcer’s routine was to describe the wonders at the table and then hand the microphone to the vendor. The bookseller held on to the microphone for quite some time. I, of course, couldn’t understand anything. I wish there was a 0.5x button you could press to slow speakers down.

Back to the engines. Philibert took both of our engines apart, cleaning the heat exchangers, flushing the coolant loop and replacing our fuel pumps.  Volvo requires dealers, NOT owners, to do valve adjustments and injector spray tests. We have found out that Volvo engines are really Perkins parts, painted Volvo green. I am amazed at how many pieces they can be decomposed into and that they can be put back together too. Philibert couldn’t have been nicer as he responded to our questions and checked everything out.

Frank, who owns Inboard, is originally from Sweden. The garage is about a ten minute walk away from the dock space, so they have adapted a Swedish mail delivery cart for parts transport. The shop is fully stocked with a variety of parts and is the dealer for the Caribbean and Latin American region. Like kids in a candy store, we were tempted to buy one of everything.

We stayed on the dock an extra day before heading to St. Anne, so that we could travel to Fort de France to meet Krystal. We had tried to figure out when the buses run to town and came to the conclusion that they stopped at 5 or 6 pm. No problem, we’ll get a taxi. I had thought I was very smart when I checked in at Fort de France and took a photo of the taxi sign with phone numbers. I should have tried to call them then as neither number worked. No problem, we’ll thumb a ride. We have been on walks on many Caribbean islands and had cars slow down to ask us if we wanted a ride; we always refused since we enjoy our walks. Not the case in Martinique, after 45 minutes of alternate thumbs, we gave up. Hence the bad pizza. We realized we could only meet Krystal during the day.

After Case Pilote, we chose to stay at St. Anne, rather than head to the boat city that is Le Marin. St. Anne is a nice seaside village with a few good places to eat. Our friends on Receta took us to their favorite place for cocktails and croquettes and we enjoyed a few quiet nights at anchor.

Anchors, mooring balls and docks are everywhere in Le Marin. Jason drove us via dinghy from St. Anne to Le Marin. I remember it as a 15 minute ride but he says it was 45 minutes. It was definitely into the waves on the way there. The town is great if you need boat parts, but we were taking a break from boat service so there wasn’t much there for us, other than some tasty kabobs.

Onward now to St. Lucia. Once again, our AIS was a great communicator. We were spotted by our friends on El Mundo as they passed us in the opposite direction.

You don’t need to be in Dominica for too long before you learn that it has 365 rivers, 10 varieties of bananas, that the number of rings on a coconut tree indicate its age (age=#rings/2) and that a kingfisher is actually a bird, not an Indian beer. At least those are the facts that I remember. Martin (aka Providence) filled my head with many more facts as he rowed us up the Indian River. Fortunately, he canceled the test on the return trip. Our refreshment was a coconut procured from the riverbank and split open with his machete. We took the extra coconut meat home and savored it over the next few days. I have since learned that hardened cruisers travel with their own machetes. “Real Cruisers Don’t Use Knives,” may be the title of a new guide.

The mountainsides are breathtaking. Every inch seems to showcase a different plant, fighting for its piece of sunshine. They don’t need to fight too hard, as the plentiful rain – over 200 or 300 inches per year, depending on how you count it – interspersed with tropical sunshine translates into lush forests and plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables. The notable missing item on our walks has been trash-not one bit. When I asked Sea Cat, he said that people respect the land and there are huge fines if you are caught.

On our Boiling Lake hike with Sea Cat (aka Octavius) we also compared the roots of the various trees, some shooting out from what seems like the middle of a tree trunk to provide extra support in the muddy ground.

I tried to at least keep my shoelaces dry as we hiked to the Valley of Desolation en route to Boiling Lake, but we renamed it the Valley of Desperation as our feet sank into the fresh mud. Every time we encountered a stream, we washed off our shoes, only to be greeted at the next step with more

squishy mud. It was well worth it. In the Valley, Sea Cat ran ahead and dropped some eggs in the boiling vent. Eight minutes later, we had our snack of freshly boiled eggs. It was a good follow on to the iced rum punch but the best food was yet to come. On arrival at Boiling Lake, after 4 hours of hiking, we were treated to a feast of salted fish, fresh bread, salad and fried plantains. We were stopped on our drive home by a very irate looking bull, who was tied to a post by the side of the road but had decided to wander out to block it. We were liberated by a brave (or ignorant?) pedestrian who tugged on the bull’s tether, giving the bull an alternate target to charge at. We didn’t stay to watch the end of the story.

We led our own hike up and down through

the muddy mountains; only one wrong turn for a pleasurable walk up a river bed and only two wipe-outs in the muddy ground by me. Upon exiting the trail, we arrived in the close-by town of Picard, notable for Ross University,

Dominica’s medical school. Every island seems to have a US accredited medical school. I had previously thought that the industry was owned by St. George’s in Grenada. (The student’s rescued by Reagan)

Our intro to the island was completed with a van tour that we shared with some charterers from the UK. At that point, they were on their second monohull as the first one had the propellor fall off. They

were finally settling in. They later emailed us an update-on the return trip their engine had caught fire. The charter company sent a third boat to Guadeloupe and they made it back to Antigua without further incident. Every so often, our guide on the tour would pull the van over, get out and tear off a bit of something growing on the side of the road. We tasted the pungent bay leaves and cinnamon tree bark. On other stops, we were expected to exit the van and explore a bit. He was very quiet, so it was always a surprise which kind of stop he was making.

Like many cruisers, we spent most of our time anchored in Portsmouth, as the local businessmen have created an umbrella association to provide services to cruisers. The island is not as entrenched in the tourist industry as other islands. In the BVI, cruisers

are a dime a dozen and on Antigua the holiday cottages provide the work and revenue. We were treated well but weren’t very crucial to their income.

Dominica has embraced the cruiser community and they are core to many small businesses. Many years ago, a cruising guide had given a bad review to the island, after the writer had been harassed while anchored there. Then Chris Doyle, who authors the Two Fish preferred Caribbean Cruising guides, decided to investigate it for himself. He found welcoming people and he worked with them to institute a set of services in Portsmouth and to put out a new message. Add to that the travel and food writing by Receta (Embarrassment of Mangoes and Spice Necklace), and more cruisers decided to see for themselves. Enter a google search now for cruising in Dominica and you will find blog after blog of only superlatives. Lastly, Active Captain, entered and used by cruisers worldwide has now democratized the review dissemination process so that one bad experience doesn’t carry as much weight. We were fortunate enough to overlap in our time there with both supporters of the island and to hear in person the good words they had to say.

Back to the association. Mostly, they help with setting up and leading tours and tying up to mooring balls. Each operator has a well marked fishing boat painted with distinct colors and their business or boat name. As you approach the island, one of them will motor up to you to help. Usually, if we are in a good anchoring spot, we prefer anchoring to a mooring ball. Good-intentioned mooring operators may not inspect the lines regularly and boats drifting away from their moorings are not a happy site. Here, we wanted to avail ourselves of the local services so we tied up to a ball. As is now customary on Two Fish, Jason immediately put on his scuba tank and dove the mooring, including attaching a back-up line to the concrete block.

In Portsmouth, the local guides host a weekly cruisers BBQ, where you can feast on local fish and chicken along with the rum punch. Actually, our favorite drink on Dominica was the fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice.

Jason has often returned to the boat after a swim to inform me of the nice couple on the next boat that he has invited over for drinks. In Portsmouth, he outdid himself and invited 12 people. I guess he lost count but Two Fish can handle it. We may not have had the best provisions but the visitors forgave us and stayed for a few hours anyway.

We feasted on lots of fresh cucumbers, peppers and tomatoes, locally-caught tuna and other goodies from the weekly market. For our second breakfast, we tried the plantain sandwich – a grilled plantain stuffed with salted fish salad. Quite good.

On our final day in Dominica, we sailed to Roseau, where we tied up to one of Sea Cat’s mooring balls, aided by Marcus from the neighboring Marine Center. Did I mention that Titus helped us out in Portsmouth? Octavius, Marcus, Titus. Next time, I will try to meet more Roman-named people.

Portsmouth was also a fantastic spot for rain collection. The Antares cockpit roof has special gulleys and two stainless pipes on the end for collecting rainwater. We used quick-connects to hook up our hoses and were able to harvest at least 20 gallons. Very useful for wash-downs of scuba gear.

As we were leaving, we realized that we were in Dominica for1 ½ weeks with no boat projects! We are learning.

 

 

 

I always feel a bit like a pariah of the hard core cruising society when I admit that I like modern conveniences. I enjoy the romantic notions of setting out on the open sea to explore new places, but I also enjoy it when we find a place that has a bit of both worlds. I found this in Antigua.

Our arrival into Antigua was welcome as Jason had single-handed it overnight from St Barts in the worst transit since we had first set off with Two Fish. We were excited to see Zooropa, another Antares, for the first time and we anchored 100 meters astern of her. Ian and Philipa had been in Antigua for a couple of weeks, so were well-versed in all the ins and outs; this was especially nice, given our general lack of energy at that point.

Jolly Harbour was one of my favorite anchorages, because it is so large that most boats find their own patch of sand, keeping my heart rate down. Especially at this time of year, a lot of the anchorages are a bit

too crowded for my taste.  Monsieur Captain, why do you need to be 5 meters away from me? Can’t you see I am giving you the “don’t anchor there” glare? It was an easy

dinghy ride to the fuel dock to purchase some oil for our engines. We couldn’t find our Volvo brand so instead bought Shell Rimula 4X; the VDS-3 on the label meant it was okay for our engines.

Ian and Philipa took us on an awesome hike near English Harbour – dramatic vistas and interesting flora. English Harbour contains Nelson’s Dockyard and there are a few commercial enterprises and a museum capitalizing on the association. However, Nelson was only there for three years, before his famous career accomplishents. If you believe the history books, he found it a bit of a bore.

We were intrigued by a non-Nelson interesting fact we learned from some vacationing Brits; there is a BBC series called Death in Paradise that is filmed in Guadeloupe, our next island. We made a note to track down some episodes (available on Netflix).

We enjoyed the quiet bay and another fun hike along the mountain ledge back to Falmouth Harbour. The official Antigua trails are easy to follow because someone has painted white spots on the rocks every 20 meters or so to keep you on the right trail. See, civilization is not such a bad thing.

Once we had mastered the white spot trails, we decided to branch out on our own and climb to the not-so-

popular Mt McNish, where the radio tower of the Observer radio station is based. Interesting items spotted along the way were multiple donkeys and aggressive looking cows (they still had their horns). As we approached the summit, I thought I could detect the

distinct odor of recently applied citronella bug spray. However, the two radio tower maintenance guys, who had raced up the somewhat steep track in their jeep, pointed out the fields of lemon grass that they were harvesting for their tea. On the way home, some of the horned cattle and donkeys had decided to graze on the path. Being the animal expert, I told Jason to follow my lead. Later, he asked me what my plan would have been, if they had charged us. I told him it was to run;  he responded, “I could have thought of that myself”.

We weighed anchor and sailed over to Falmouth Harbour. We decided not to anchor in nearby English Harbour for a few reasons. First, the lack of breeze in the bay was known to result in bumper boats with every boat following its own float pattern. Second, the holding was supposed to be just okay, but not great. Lastly, one had to also avoid large chains that had been fastened on the sea floor. When the old English sailing ships used to enter the harbor, they would hook their anchors on these chains as a way of staying attached. This might have looked like a slow motion version of fighter jets landing on aircraft carriers.

We watched a few Lasers racing in the harbor, and when we were ashore, stopped at the Antigua Yacht Club. The people there were super-nice and for a modest charge, Jason signed up for a monthly membership, which allowed him to take a Laser out and participate in the weekly racing. The Yacht Club restaurant also served iced teas and salads – can’t ask for much more than that. We saw Phaedo 3 at the dock. The last time that we saw her, she was racing past St Maarten at 37 knots.

Just a few hours away from Falmouth Harbour, we found one of those perfect, sometimes elusive spots. Nonsuch bay is a quiet, protected anchorage with beautiful water and snorkeling. We picked up a mooring ball and immediately spotted “Seabattical”, another Antares, not too far away.  Our neighboring boat housed

expert kite surfers and we enjoyed watching them foil across the flat waters. Some day I will try that. We saw a few megayachts in the distance and once again wondered what their life was like. A few clues: they were dinghied to the snorkeling beach along with coolers and umbrellas; they seemed to have a VHF that you could talk into and lunch would instantly appear; and, they had no motor oil stains on their clothes.

On our further afield trips from Jolly Harbour, we took a few local taxis. On an early morning drive with Gene, he was listening to the radio. A bit sad as the local broadcast was airing condolences and funeral parlour ads. More commonly, the radio would be airing the local minister. There are many churches on Antigua; they are mostly small community buildings except for the Seventh Day Adventists who hold services under large tents, accommodating several hundred people. On Emancipation Day, 1st August 1834, the churches were the main gathering spot for celebrations. We enjoyed a history lesson at the Museum of Antigua and Barbuda, and gawked at the giant statue of the first Prime Minister, but we found St. Johns to be a bit crowded with Cruise Ship shopping sprawl.

We also drove by the Antigua Cricket Grounds, “Sir Richard Vivian Stadium”, known as “The Viv.”  Of course, some of you might be more familiar with the old Alan Stanford stadium that hosted the 20/20 West Indies match right before his pyramid scheme came tumbling down. Unfortunately, the winning team was forced to hold their prize money in his fraudulent bank and they lost it all.

 

I enjoyed my cooking class  at Nicole’s Table. I even brought home a few leftovers for Jason. I am looking forward to making Coconut Chips. If you

want to try it yourself, just find a dried coconut, cut it in half and remove the hull. Then make shavings using a vegetable peeler and bake them in the oven for about 20 minutes at 350 degrees F, turning every so often. Salt generously and enjoy.

 

We spent over two weeks in Antigua and we still had a list of “must do’s” that we did not do including golf, climbing Mt Obama (previously known as Boggy Peak). As they say, “We’ll be back.”

 

 

 

What defines a good bike trip for me? Good food, interesting people and polite drivers.

We were surprised to find an island with such a friendly biking atmosphere. We were even more surprised thatwe managed to extract both of our folding bikes from Two Fish, load them onto the dinghy and get them to shore without any cursing or mishap. Of course, Steven, the local taxi driver was at the dock overseeing the operation and offering much advice.

 

 

On what other island would a taxi driver be so encouraging to two people who were about to bike rather than ride cabs? Even the customs people were enthusiastic about our explorations. “Just one little hill and then it is all flat”, the woman said. I beg to differ. It is amazing how cars don’t see hills the same way I do. The only unfriendly exchange we witnessed on Anguilla was during the local youth sailing races. Two boys were rounding the mark when one threatened to punch the other in the face if he didn’t get out of his way. I guess they didn’t have a protest flag on board.

Day one reminded me a bit of Ireland; there were green, lush mountains and buckets of rain. Rather than stop for a pint, we opted for kebabs at On Da Rocks at the eastern end of the island. While it was tasty, unfortunately the bay was not in a good snorkeling state that day. We seem to be in the Leeward Islands during a windy month.  The windy conditions inspired another stop on the way home at Ooh La La café for a freshly squeezed grapefruit and ginger juice.

 

We saw quite a few House of Assembly Candidate posters on the road. Anguilla is a UK overseas territory so its nominal head of state is the Queen but the Chief Minister (currently Hubert Hughes) is the head of the government. It seems to be fairly competitive between the three main parties (symbol): Anguilla United Front (lighthouse), Anguilla United Movement (tree) and Anguilla Progressive Party

(key). There were also a variety of posters for Independents with birds and fish for symbols. Anguilla established its push for independence on May 30, 1967, when they sent the St. Kitts Police Force packing from the island. Britain intervened and it wasn’t until Decmber 19, 1980 that the negotiations ended and Anguilla became autonomous.

 

After a great day on the bikes, we headed back to Two Fish. “That’s odd”, I said, as we approached her. “It looks like we are being held by the anchor chain, not the bridle.” My first though was that I

hadn’t let out enough chain to allow the boat to transition the bridle. However, we soon realized that the bridle had broken and that we needed a quick fix before the boat became damaged. Fortunately, our chain lock was on, preventing the chain from pulling on our windlass. Quick-thinking Jason suggested that we rig a bridle from our bow cleats with two lines. He made some loops through the chain with kevlar line and we led a line there and back from each bow cleat. We realized that the odd motion from the previous night was probably caused by the bridle line chafing against itself. We would need to get a new bridle at our next stop, but for the moment we were fine.

 

Our next ride was to the western end of the island.

At a lookout point, we met some locals who were happy to break up their usual morning to chat with us.

Jason spent some time learning about local industry and boat building from an eighty-two year old man who used to deliver salt to Trinidad. He would do deliveriesacross the West Indies with no motor and no GPS on a homemade 63-foot schooner. I chatted with a woman who was born on Nevis, traveled the world, and was hoping to spend her seventy-sixth birthday there.

Time for another snack on our way west, but this time it was a bit of a disappointment. I understand when supplies are low and you can’t provide something on your menu, but why taunt me with a specials list of 10 english muffin egg sandwiches and then tell me that the Kim Chi breakfast sandwich is not available because you don’t have any English muffins? The scenery made up for the food setback as we caught a glimpse of St Maarten on our ride. It is funny how the sea always looks calmer from a mountain viewpoint.

Dinner did not disappoint in atmosphere or food. Elvis’ is a well known restaurant on Road Bay and as such, I figured it would be “eh”. It turns out that Elvis is a great guy with a good word and

handshake for everyone who enters his establishment and his fish tacos are excellent. So good, in fact, that we went back the next night. There we were treated to a spotting of the famous “green flash” at sunset and the story behind the Russian sailboats that had entered the harbor.

In true Snackroads tradition, it seems that I have focused more on the food than the biking. It really is a great place for a bike ride.

 

For those of you who think we are wiling away the hours in a tropical paradise, let me describe my day. The alarm went off at 5am. Fortunately, this was a fake 5am since we just finished Daylight Savings Time, but my brain still doesn’t like to see the numeral 5 as the starting point. The temperature was in the 30s and it was still dark outside. I quickly put on my 5 layers of clothing, made breakfast and went outside. We unplugged from shore power, removed most of the lines holding us to the dock, turned on the chartplotters and started the engines.

My job was to stand at the bow with our powerful flashlight, and to tell Jason how we looked on port as he pulled as away from the dock. Since the helm is on starboard, it is sometimes hard for him to gauge distance from objects. Lines released and we pivoted away. My next job was to stay at the bow and be his eyes as we steered out of the marina and towards the river. We now communicate using Bluetooth headsets. Sorry sailing purists (you know who you are) but the headsets are more efficient than handsignals. This is especially true when weighing the anchor; I generally have the chain counter in my right hand, the seawater hose to clean the chain in my left hand and am running back to the chain locker to clear the beehiving chain. Despite drinking New Jersey water, I just haven’t managed to grow that third arm which could be used to indicate the angle of the chain.

Back to our exit. All I could think of was how frozen my toes were. I tried moving my toes and fingers a bit to encourage blood flow. I wondered if I had just cursed aloud and whether Jason had heard me through the headset. We got through the channel markers and I stowed all of our fenders, despite the difficulty of removing lines when your fingers can’t move. Relieved from duty, I ran inside to warm up while Jason remained at the helm in his winter best. When will we reach warm weather?  [Jason comment:  I feel bad reading this as inside the enclosure it was not too cold for me.  I was wearing more fleece than you find at a Patagonia store plus the “bubble” is effective in keeping you warm.]

 

Later that day, the sunshine warmed us up and we enjoyed a leisurely ride through the ICW. We were serenaded by US Navy boats (who politely waited for us to go under the bridge), porpoises, and more Navy boats. The porpoises tend to like shallow water and at one point, unaided by markers, I think they tried to help me stay in the channel – keep me to starboard was the message I took away.

As we passed through the Camp Lejeune firing range, I heard a bit of a rat-a-tat-tat, even

though the green lights indicated they were not firing at that point. I guess it was a neighboring range because we passed  unscathed. Towards the end of the day 5 or 6 boats sped by.

They had Netherland flags so were either on a joint exercise or were US troops in some war game simulation. They did not stop to chat, so I will never know.

That night’s crowded anchorage was calm, with the occasional noise from one of our Navy friends entering or exiting the harbor. We were a bit concerned about drifting into another boat so Jason tied a fender ball to our stern.  If we touched a neighboring boat, at least it would be a soft impact.   The wind shifted 180 degrees during the night causing Two Fish and the other boats to spin but without incident.  The Captain often prepares for things that fortunately do not occur.

It was back to the peaceful Intercoastal and a transit of Cape Fear River.  I need to re-watch that movie. Some of the bridges are opened on request while others are opened once an hour.  The hourly bridges tend to accumulate a backlog as the boats wait for the next opening.  Boats may look calm waiting for the bridge openings but they are doing a ballet to hold their position.   Frequently currents near bridges can be strong and there can be shoaling (sand creating shallow spots).   The captains must hover the boat without running aground, hitting another boat or getting swept into the closed bridge.   With twin engines Two Fish is good at holding station with either her bows or sterns into the current.  It is a more difficult maneuver on monohulls.  We often witness them charging up river into the existing group of boats since monos prefer to have their bow into the current.  As the bridge opens, the confusing mess of boats gains some order as the monos spin around and head towards the bridge.    Some bridge operators are very focused on minimizing the time the bridge is open.   They encourage the boats to pull up close to the bridge.   I doubt they have ever steered a boat in a current in front of an unforgiving iron bridge.  As the parade passes through the now open span, boats try to follow as close as possible.  Not unlike a highway, some boats are tailgating and others are slow pokes and then a few insane boats will stop for no reason at all.   A quick thank you on the VHF radio to the bridge operator and you have passed another hurdle south.

The queue of boats passes the bridge according to arrival time rather than their cruising speed.  Over the following 20 minutes the boats sort themselves out by passing.   The airwaves are filled by radio calls from the motor boat. “Two Fish. Two Fish. This is the xyz boat. We will give you a slow pass on port.”  I often wonder what the Long Island Expressway would be like if that were the custom on highways as well.

We decided to tie up at Southport Marina for the night and were pleasantly surprised by the surroundings and their nightly weather chat. Hank (http://www.carolinayachtcare.com) gave us weather and ICW transit tips which guided us later on in our travels.  The biggest problem with the ICW is shoaling and the general opinion is that South Carolina and Georgia don’t have budgets to dredge their portions. I suppose at some point they will lose tourism dollars and do something about it. For now it is just a nail-biting timing exercise. We try to check comments on Active Captain and ask other boaters for additional information. The ICW is also not so well charted – the chart has often thought we were on land. This

adds to the experience? As we got closer to Myrtle Beach, we saw more houses and restaurants. We also passed by a golf course whose parking lot was on one side of the ICW and the course on the other. Golfers had to take a gondola from the parking lot across the ICW with their clubs. Another interesting moment was when we had to wait for a monohull stopped right near a bridge. They were a bit too tall for the bridge and had attached a bucket of water to the mast so as to heel the boat while transiting. In case you are wondering – they made it.  Two Fish also made it a bit farther south.