Author Archive | Jason Fish

Most passages on Two Fish start when bakers and armies are at their busiest. Before the sun had risen, the crew of Two Fish was removing a sail cover, unfrapping the main halyard and turning on the chart.  We were tied to a mooring ball owned by the legendary hiking guide Sea Cat, aka Octavius.  Even though we were only staying one night, I had donned my scuba gear and rigged a back-up line in case the mooring rode failed. The back-up line was actually two docks lines connected by a double sheet bend, that was too large to pass through the concrete block’s loop.  In the 5:30am brain fog, it took a few minutes to ascertain which side of the line to bring on board first, but I remembered not to let go of either end until I had solved the puzzle.

Passages in the Caribbean are broken into two sections:  in the lee of the island and in the exposed ocean.   Gail is our captain when we are travelling in the lee and yesterday helmed for the length of Dominica.  In the lee, the wind seems random as it can quickly go from zero to thirty knots in the lee of a large mountain. The lee-side marketing guys over-promise on light air, but they do deliver on flat seas, making Gail happy.

Today’s mostly ocean passage was projected to have lumpy seas, so Gail took her Sturgeron and I prepared to do most of the passage.   Shortly after releasing the mooring ball, the main was up with a single reef.   We motored for a while in fluky winds.  It is tempting to hoist the entire inventory of sails, but a patient captain waits until clearing the end of the island, where winds can sometimes peak.   Our patience was not necessary as the breeze only rose to 18 knots.   The full genoa was unfurled, as I kept a look out for any remaining fish pots.

The passage was short but plentiful of exciting moments.   A pod of whales passed, but did not linger for a photo opportunity.  Later, dozens of white flying fish began exiting the back sides of the waves and travelling twenty yards before re-entering the water.  I presume they were in search of a breakfast of bugs.  I watched them too intently, as I should have been scanning the radar for boats.   After 15 minutes of this show, the second part of the act arrived.  Four grey birds with black markings started to circle Two Fish.  The began to play a game of who can get closest to the genoa. I think the sail blocked the sun, improving their view of the flying fish.  Moments later, I saw the breakfast-eating fish become breakfast for the birds. I watched as the fish repeatedly exited the wave only to be captured by a bird mid-flight.  I was enjoying the show much more than a Phillies game.

The breeze had freshened and I switched from auto-pilot mode to hand steering so as to take advantage of the puffs.  The autopilot can steer Two Fish very well in every condition, but hand steering is worth 0.3 knots and keeps me on my game.   In the lulls I hardened up a bit and in the puffs I bore off.   The true key to beating the autopilot is to hold the helm straight; Two Fish then tracks nicely.  If the weather helm (tendency for the boat to head up) builds, consider shortening sails and adjusting the center of effort. I grinned as the boat exceeded 10 knots in 3 foot seas.  Ten  miles from the lee of Martinique, the clouds to windward had me concerned.   A high level cloud had a dirty bottom and a low level cloud was raining.  The weather guessers had predicted squalls with 30 knot winds.  I had a full genoa and 1 reef in the main.  I warned Gail I might need a hand in a half hour; as luck would have it, we threaded the needle between the two ominous clouds.

During the day, I adjusted the sail trim a half-dozen times.  Each time I would pause my podcast.  I listened to a comedy show on NPR (“Wait Wait Don’t Tell”) and a BBC show about the many languages of Myanmar.   By the way, Myanmar is an adjective in the Myanmar language but the military government insists that Myanmar is the English name for the country.  Learning while sailing.

As the wind went aft, I decided I needed to move the jib car forward. This a ten minute process, because I need to tie a second line to the active sheet, to temporarily take the load, then adjust the car, and then carefully shift the load back. After 15 minutes the wind changed back. Repeat process and remember we are cruising not racing.

I sometimes take photos of passing boats. I then call them on the VHF radio and offer to email the photos.  Sailors love their boats and it is hard to get a shot of your boat, in its native element.  I was taking photos of an English monohull when the VHF called out “Two Fish Two Fish”.  The caller was my photographic subject.   Four years ago, a work colleague resigned.  I never knew her reasons.   Fast forward to last week’s beach BBQ and who did I see?  Amanda, the colleague from 4 years ago.  It turns out that we both left work and went sailing.   Now, a week after our chance meeting, we met again at sea.

Gail took over as we reached the lee of Martinique; I decided to take a nice hot shower and shave to prepare for landing on a French island.  Our motors were needed for the remainder of the transit.   We were headed for a small fishing village, where cruisers are not invited, as the limited anchoring is for the fisherman.  We had reserved some dock space from the Volvo mechanic.

We put the boat to bed, adjusting the fenders, putting on the sail cover, raising the aft shade, changing the courtesy flag, and covering the instruments.  As always, a bonus job appeared.  When Gail was at the helm, in the lee Martinique, the boat seem slower than what we would expect.   A quick glance at the port stern revealed a small tree had become hooked on the rudder.  I dove in and easily removed the arboreal terrorist.   No damage except the benefits of my shower were lost.

We have come to the Volvo mechanics for our 1,000 hour service.  We prefer to overdo it on maintenance.   Replacing a part while at the Volvo dealer is much easier than mid-ocean, so we have created a long chore list:  valve clearance, injector spray test and coolant flush are just of few of the tasks.   I also have a few questions.   Do I have glow plugs?  Why does the manual refer to transmission oil as reverse gear oil?

With the boat secure, and our appointment with Volvo set for the morning, we went for a short exploratory walk.   The joy of the French islands is that every village has a boulangerie.   Quiche and salad is for dinner.

And that is what a short passage day is like aboard Two Fish.

 

 

 

We spent most of our time underwater or on top of a mountain so this post is just photos.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sailors always have an ear open for sounds, listening for a warning that there is a problem with the boat.  Has part of the bridle failed, is another anchored boat touching our hull, is a water pump running, is a sail not stowed properly? The benefit of this audio monitoring system, aka worrying, is that I am more attuned to sounds than I was in Manhattan.  In NYC, you gain the skill of blocking out sirens, church bells, garbage trucks and Saturday night drunks.  Here are some sounds I have heard in our current bay in Dominica.

My passport has twice been brought to the US State Department to have pages added because of my business travels.  However, on these trips, I never really saw the countries I visited.  I became an expert in airport lounges, taxis, business hotels and how to get to the office.  Lesson #24: Do not cross the eight lane highway in Moscow that is between the Swiss hotel and my office, unless you like to play human frogger.  Similarly, many of our cruising experiences keep us isolated from island life.  We know which anchorages are lined with anchor-fighting grass and which beaches make for dangerous dinghy landings because of breaking waves.  We meet locals when they drive us in their cabs or feed us in their restaurants. As the sun sets, we return to Two Fish and the locals head inland to their homes, churches and chicken BBQs.  Sailing South, we change countries every week and chant the typical cruising refrain, “We are going too fast”.  Are we doing the middle-age equivalent of a ten day, nine country tour of Europe?  “Ladies and gentleman that is Switzerland and on the left there is France.   Soon we will be in Spain where they speak Spanish.”

It takes a bit of guts and some luck to meet the locals.  Sometimes they can be taken aback when you reach out.  Sometimes they are trying to sell you something, not trying to meet you.  But remove your NYC veneer and you might see something through someone else’s eyes.  I did, for a brief time in Montserrat.

 

For this story, you will need to understand a bit of geology.   There are two types of volcano eruptions. There is the Hawaiian style, in which lava flows out of the volcano like a river.  This is dangerous, but predicable in its path of destruction.   The second is pyroclastic, in which the volcano’s dome grows in size over a period of years, venting off sulfur, dust and a few rocks traveling at speeds which are unsuitable for the Autobahn.   In 1995, Montserrat’s seemingly dormant volcano changed classification and started attracting geologists.  The Soufriere’s hill grew to be the highest point on the island and the capital town of Plymouth became an excellent vantage point for watching the nighttime pyrotechnics.   Authorities from the Montserrat Volcano Observatory created exclusion zones to protect people from harm. Some residents did not comply with the rules because they needed to tend crops and herd cattle and were uncomfortable moving into a government shelter.  Sadly, economics drove their decision to stay.  And for two years they enjoyed a few close calls but no real impediments.  That ended on 18 July 1997 when half of the mountain charged to the sea.  Nineteen people died.

As I listened to the story of the volcano, I felt empathy for those that lost their homes. A large percentage of Montserrat locals own homes and this is their primary asset.   As the volcano expanded, its path of destruction grew.  First a dusting of ash, then red hot twenty foot boulders and finally complete burial by ash and rock.  Their entire neighborhood was gone.  Their life’s work.  Their most valuable asset.  Their retirement plan.  They would move in with in-laws, cousins, or live on a floor at a primary school.  The English helped their overseas territory by constructing red-roofed temporary housing but the impact of the volcano has changed people’s lives forever.

The people of Montserrat carry two passports, Montserrat and the UK.  More than half of the residents left their lives on the Island and searched for a new life in the UK.  Manchester, Plymouth, Birmingham and London.   Younger residents left in droves to pursue a different life in the UK while they parents were left behind on the ash covered island.  The immigrants could no longer go to the beach at a whim and had to own winter jackets.  The transition was tough on many people.  On island, they had known everyone. Now they were just another anonymous tube passenger.

I eavesdropped on a conversation between a man who had stayed and a woman who had left.  The female leaver had moved to the UK in the late 90’s and was back in Montserrat visiting family.

The man asked  “How is your brother doing”

She responded “He died… back in 2010”

The man was slow to respond   “We did not know that.  I am sorry to hear”

She went on to tell the story “We went by his house in February to tell him we were going out of town for two weeks.  No one answered the door, so we left a note.  We assumed he was away for a few months on one of his faraway jobs as we still did not hear from him when we returned.   But then, when the weather warmed, a neighbor complained of smell and that is when we found the dead body.”

The man was in shock.  “That should not happen to anybody.   How can you go a month without seeing someone.  Or a week.  Or even a day.”

He stopped for a bit as he did not want to seem judgmental  “You know you guys should have never left Montserrat as people would miss you after 24 hours.  I remember your brother well.   We would go diving near the airport for lobsters and spear fish.   He was the best at holding his breath.”

 

I always have the utmost respect for economic refugees.   People who leave something for absolutely nothing.  They had a life and a house in their old country but board a plane for a new land with different customs and little money, if any. Half of the island people had to do this in the late 90’s.  Many flourished in the UK, but some returned to be part of the rebuilding process of Montserrat.    We went a few times to The Attic for vegetable roti.  On the final visit I asked the owner about the name of the restaurant, “Why is it called The Attic when it is a one story building.?”   She replied that her original restaurant was in the attic of a tall building in Plymouth, the former capital.  She clearly missed Plymouth but covered up her loss with a joke about her customers preferring that her new location has fewer stairs.  But her new location has different clientele. The old location drew the downtown crowd, while her new location is near the American expats.  The Americans try become part of the island but they speak of their stateside condominiums and how to get cheap flights back to the states.   The Americans will not use the greeting “Wa Gwan” which is short for “what is going on?”

 

In addition to the psychological and physical impacts, the financial impact was devastating. Many of the homes were insured, but the insurance company went bankrupt faster than a boulder traveling down the hillside.  The bank also went under.  The government banned access to the southern half of the island.   This left the home owners owning property they could not use, insurance that would not pay and owing money on mortgage to a bank that no longer existed.  I asked a few people how they navigated this broken financial system.   Most were patient and survived the crisis. They were not required to pay on their mortgage and the government allowed them to keep the deed on their ash buried property.   The home is not habitable, but, when the volcano becomes dormant their children’s children can return.  If you are working with volcanoes, you must think multi-generational.

Some industrious islanders bought new land and over the next decade built new homes.  Never a replacement, but it would do.   Villages such as St Patrick’s and Kinsale were gone forever.   Residents of these destroyed villages were spread out across the northern region.  Your neighbors, who you used to see ten times per day, were no longer a regular part of your life.   The government entered the real estate market.   The prime minister used eminent domain to buy a parcel of land from a mega-large land owner.    The government gave the land owner 13 million dollars, but he is suing for more money.   I asked about the land owners background, as his behavior seemed very anti-social in such a small island.   He lives on island full time, but his poor behavior was attributed to spending his teenage years in the States

The government also built houses just for young couples to make sure the island would not run out of children.  This has stemmed some of the emigration.

 

I heard another sad story of someone who had left the island before the volcano had become active.  He worked long and hard off-island.  He built a wonderful hillside home but just before move-in day it was destroyed.  He never slept a night inside.  He has given up on the dream of returning home and is staying Stateside.

 

By early 2000, the mountain had grown to new heights and the geologists at the MVO (Montserrat Volcano Observatory) told the government that the airport might be in jeopardy.  Airport employees were drilled on a facility evacuation plan, which to the non-volcanologist the escape plan might seem to be a waste of time. They realized that the switchback road out of the airport was inefficient by bus. Instead, they parked the bus after the switchbacks and asked everyone to run across a field to the bus, reducing evacuation time by five minutes.   They also told staff to leave everything behind when the alarm was sounded.   Fortunately, everyone was listening during training because six months later traveling at over 90 miles per hour, a wall of boiling rock and ash covered the airport.   The staff left five minutes before the airport was covered.  The airport is buried for eternity and is the gateway to the newest land’s end on the island.   Now the island would need a new airport and a new port for ships.

 

The rock slides have created five additional square miles of land which is a big increase on a thirty-nine square mile island.   There are brand new jet black beaches, a rare beauty, but remember to wear flip flops for protection against the hot sand.  Emigration has slowed and the tide is turning.  The new airport is up and running and ferry terminal pier can accept commercial shipments.

 

We watched the primary school games in which the five schools compete in a day of track and field. The enthusiasm for the days games could be seen from our far away perch.   We later listened to the final event, the tug of war, on the local radio.  Graves School won the tug of war and was overall champion for the fifth time in a row.  The bright future for the island can be seen on the playing fields.

 

 

Small businesses are recovering.  I visited a local hair salon located conveniently across from the airport.   The proprietor had owned a similar shop in Plymouth and after the volcano moved to the new airport.  She also owns that adjacent “Last Chance Trinket Shop”.   She was unsuccessful at cross selling my haircut with a snow globe. I left with little hair. I might have been her first customer with straight hair and I think she would say it was a learning experience.

 

 

Our guide, Scriber, is obsessed with the local oriole.  Neither Gail nor I are much into the sport of birding, but respected his enthusiasm. I did enjoy seeing the part-lizard part-snake creature.   Gail’s reaction was more dramatic as the creature ran up her leg.  They say animals are more scared of you than you are of the animals.  In this case I can clearly testify Gail was more scared.  I thought I could hear the creature say something under his breath  “Come on, I am only a reptile, not a great white shark”.   Gail shook her leg violently to remove the cold-blooded friend but he was able to stay attached for a few seconds.  In the reptile world, this is the equivalent of riding the bronco.    Scriber, who had previously lived in St. Patrick’s, has multiple jobs, a common occurrence on the islands.  He is a forest ranger, tourist guide, environmental radio personality and a member of the Caribbean birding society.   Both of his adult sons live in the UK.  His new house is a solidly built home on a nice plot of land with space for his dogs, chickens and goats. Both sides of his family came over as slaves.  He never revealed his marital status, religion or education. However, he skillfully educated us on forest almonds, rubber trees, snakes and Montserrat history.   There might have been a few embellishments, but Scriber is a person whose presence makes the island of Montserrat a better place to visit and, I dare say, live.

Montserrat has a mentally ill guy who also drinks too much.  He spends his day selling a few coconuts he has gathered in the forest.  His business does not have brisk sales. In his ample free time he observes the traffic on the great north road, which is the only artery for the island.   After our third pass of the nut salesman’s location without buying he said, “F– off Scriber”.   Scriber was slightly taken back but was able to recover and replied, “Have a good day”.

 

I have not covered nearly enough of the interesting tapestry of Montserrat.  Curious readers will wonder why St Patrick’s Day is a government holiday or how the artist who wrote “Hot Hot Hot” spent his royalties on the island.  May be the key to understanding Montserrat is to slow your clock down.  Stop thinking in years, and like our friend Sciber, start to think in generations.  Stop thinking in generations and start think in geological time.   In 400 years, the volcano will most likely be dormant and the black sandy beaches will be a jewel in the Caribbean.   You might want to buy some land today for your descendants.

 

The island of St. Bart’s brings visions of high-end Caribbean lifestyles with a French flair.  I was eager to Med moor and hop off the stern, greeted by a pain au chocolat.  We found something else when we arrived, and I think it was better.  This has not been a season of smooth seas and many anchorages have been infested with annoying swell, which disturbs our slumber. “Swell is the collection of waves moving away from a storm in the ocean. Although the waves will all be of different size and power and heading in slightly different directions we can tend to talk about averages of all these waves as one discreet swell.”

We made landfall in St. Barts at Anse de Colombier , a marine park.   The marine park has mooring balls so that cruisers don’t damage the sea grass with their anchors.  Most cruisers grab the free mooring balls, but some boats insist on anchoring close to the beach.  Fortunately, the upfront anchoring does not ruin the full habitat so there are plenty of sea turtles swimming in the bay.

 

When we first arrived, we took one of the few open balls, but at 4pm a huge boat dance began; Thirty percent of the boats sailed away and another thirty percent, including us, upgraded their positions.  We lost in a stare down competition to a mono hull for our first choice, but we were very happy with our consolation prize ball.

The next day we made our way to the “big city” of Gustavia to check in.  The distance between high tide and the cliff face is narrow so instead of leaving the dingy to float away, we concocted an alternate plan.  I ferried Gail to shore on the dinghy along with the delicate ship’s papers and passports.   I then motored back to Two Fish and raised the dinghy. Next, I dove into the sea for a 15 minute swim to shore.  Gail greeted me with a towel and dry clothes.

 

An asset of this anchorage is that the closest road is reached after a 25 minute hike.  The hike offers beautiful vistas of the windward side of the island with its unforgiving, pounding surf.   We almost never anchor on the western side of an island as it offers the full force of the sea.  At the end of the hike, there is a quaint hotel.  We spoke with the owner as we waited for a cab to arrive.   His family used to own the entire property that we had just hiked, but they sold it to the Rockefellers years ago.  Our cab driver was a graduate of the French school of race car driving but to my surprise did not send us over the cliffs to our deaths or crush one of the many slow moving land based turtles on the roads.

 

Gustavia is full of mega yachts, great dining and high-end shops.   The promised beautiful people are only in town for high season so we rubbed elbows with the moderately attractive stands-ins.  We failed on a true St Barts experience because we did not wake up with a champagne hangover.

 

Anse de Colombier has no beach bar, no shop and no wifi.  You are not alone but it feels more like the magazine ads in Cruising World.  The sea grass revival attracts my favorite marine creatures, the sea turtles.  The bay also has plenty of starfish which to the starfish’s chagrin seems to attract topless French sunbathers, who like to pick them up.  I could hear the starfish screaming – look, do not touch.  The breeze was blowing 20 knots in the anchorage but the waves were small.  We had found paradise and swam a few times a day.   A few mega yachts had left Gustavia and joined us in the marine park.  I noticed that when a mega yacht passenger got out of the water the staff anticipated the swimmer and had the outdoor shower running before the first foot exited the water.   If you visit us, we will try to offer this service on Two Fish.

 

We have recently started a new practice when using mooring balls.  We attach a line via rolling hitch underneath the ball.  This way if the ball or pennant fails we will still be attached.  After instituting the policy we heard of two other Antares that broke free of their balls.  No damage done but it surely has encouraged our new policy. I sleep better on anchor but we use balls to help the turtles.

 

On our second day in the anchorage the breeze had become gusty and several boats were struggling to pick up their mooring balls.  I hopped into One Fish to help them.  My technique is to attach the dinghy to the ball, then grab the pennant in my left hand while catching the line from the boat in my right hand.  The third step is to pass the line through the pennant and hand it back to their crew.   Finally, I detach my dinghy painter and motor away.  I helped an American boat with a 90 year old owner who is still game on.  He has crew to help but still snorkels and does plenty of boat work.   I find it tiring and I am a few years younger.  We also helped a Dutch boat pick up a ball after they failed on the first few attempts.  Later in the day I invited the two boats over for drinks.  Good stories were swapped and the Dutch brought tasty popcorn while the 90 year old brought wine much younger than himself.

 

 

Time passed and a weather window looked to be opening for a passage from St Barts to Antigua.  The wind was forecast to be in thelow 20s and the seas 8 feet. Both on the nose.  Before casting off, we had to make another trip to Gustavia to check out of the country.  If the paperwork seem pointless, you can skip it all together BUT we did see a boat that tried this strategy get boarded by the French Coast Guard.  At the St. Barts prison, they serve day old croissants.  For checking out, we chose to walk the entire trip, about 2 hours.   The up hills encouraged blood circulation but the down hills were hell.   The road narrowed and two cars could barely fit so pedestrians seem destined to become hood ornaments.   We made it alive but vowed to return by cab.

The reward for adversity in St Bart is the key boulangerie that supplies much of the island.  It was high on a hillside near the airport and frequented by the local repairman who immigrated from France.   Clients can be a good culinary indicator (Avoid the shops catering to cruise ships). We bought bread, quiche and of course the Pain au Chocolat I had dreamed of many years ago.

 

We slipped our lines at 6pm and set our sails in the shadow of the island.   I decided on one reef in the main and one reef in the genoa so that we would not arrive before sunrise in Antigua.  Gail went off to bed shortly after we got under way.   We chatted a bit through the cabin hatch as we passed Gustavia.  It had become dark so I had to pay attention to the traffic coming in and out of the port.  Dodge starboard for a tug with side to barge, dodge port for a huge anchored schooner and ease back to starboard to avoid fuel terminal buoys.   Usually, I head straight offshore to avoid other boats but I wanted to enjoy the smooth waves for as long as St Barts offered protection.  An hour later, the breeze peaked at 27 knots and we entered a washing machine that did not stop for the next 12 hours.  The trip was our worst since owning the boat.  Gail was green and despite trying very hard could only spell me for 20 minutes.  After 6 hours of being on the non-amusement park ride I hove to for 15.  The genoa had two reefs and the main one reef.  It did not take long for the boat to find the right balance and she gently drifted downwind.  Slightly refreshed I soldiered on.   To add to the bumpy ride, I was frequently having to check the bilge since I was getting a bilge alarm.  I do not ignore bilge alarms but on the 15^th visit I sure was tired and annoyed.   Hanging upside down in the bilge tasting the water to see if it was fresh or sea is not a bonus.  I will need to extend the anti siphon loop on the bilge as I think water was entering in the gruesome seas.   Gail was a major hero as the short spell gave me the power to finish up the trip.  As we got closer, the sun came over the horizon and hope returned.   We entered Jolly Harbour to see our friends on Zooroopa, an Antares built two hulls after Two Fish.   There was a huge open spot ideal for anchoring right behind them.  The anchor set on the first time in the white sand.

 

Even as I write this, I am forgetting how bad the trip had been.   It is amazing how a sailor has the ability to forget the bad and embrace the good.   St Barts was definitely good bread, good people and good swimming.  The crew of Two Fish are working on 2016 plans and we will announce the plan soon.  Well, as soon as we have decided the plan.

 

PS:  You may notice that the pictures in this post look a little out of focus.  Our camera has died.  We have a back up, so the blog will continue but we are eager to reach a camera shop (aka Amazon).

 

 

The Caribbean Islands, also called the West Indies, have many names that confuse me.  Anguilla and Antigua, as well as Barbuda and Barbados, are names that sound alike but are far afield from each other.  Saba Island is not the bar in the BVI known as Saba Rock.  There is more than one Georgetown, and a couple of Marigot Bays, so you might want to keep  your chartplotter on during shoreside conversations with other cruisers.   We visited Saint Martin, or was it Sint Maarten?  Those similar names are the French and Dutch names for parts of the same island. The island was sawed in half in 1648 and controlled as colonies of Holland and France.  The Dutch got a smaller portion, but with more productive salt ponds.

 

Today, St. Maarten has the lowest import duties in the Caribbean and has become a hub for boat repair.  It also offers sailors plenty of cheap booze, large docks for mega-yachts and other activities outside the coverage of this blog.  It has car dealerships, malls, box stores, Ace hardware and small traffic jams.  In St Maarten’s major bay (Simpson) you are never far away from a night club’s thumping bass.   Two Fish went there for the flat water of the lagoon and to buy a few spare parts.

 

 

We docked the boat in the Cupecoy Marina, deep into the Lagoon.  The marina offers a deluxe service in which a pilot boat greets you at the bridge and guides you into the marina.  The service is more appropriate for mega-yachts, but we enjoyed the over-the-top service for our little boat.  Docking there is tricky in a strong breeze and the very competent port captain, Guy, helps some owners park their boats.   We enjoyed his dinghy-as-bow-thruster service as an extra precaution.  The marina is not sheltered.  Instead it is at the end of a wind funnel creating discomfort in the outside visiting slips during strong trade winds.  However, shore side life in the complex was very comfortable.  Huge pool, nice gym, a great French supermarket and friendly live-aboards made our stay wonderful. The marina would be considered rural St. Maarten; we were happy to be away from the tacky night clubs.  We chose the marina rather than anchoring to make it easier to work on the boat.  But first, it was off to have some fun.

The must do thing on the island is to put you self in harms way near planes taking off and landing.  The runway abuts a beach and thrill seekers hang on to the airport fence while receiving a jet blast.  We timed our visit to enjoy the largest landing, a KLM widebody.  I found the experience underwhelming but it was a fun way to spend an hour.  The area was a complete zoo as the cruise ships had exported their cargo, the hotels had shuttled their guests, and a few wayward cruisers added themselves to the mix.  There are clearly more people watching the planes than using the airport.

We explored Marigot Bay, in the heart of the French side of the island.  The wind, which I will complain about a few times in this post, was hooting for our entire visit.  Twenty-two knots most of the time, with puffs over thirty.  We have had these persistent trade winds since before our departure from the BVI.  We thought Marigot Bay might be calmer, but monohulls and catamarans were sailing on their anchor chains.  The random puffs coming down the hill would push them askew from the prevailing wind.  Then the uncomfortable process of equalization would occur.  We watched this tiring battle from a café before beginning our ascent of the local fort.  This fort stopped the English from stealing French goods in St Martin.  The commandant boasted that not one single French coffee bean was stolen after the fort was constructed.  I often wonder how different this region would have been if the Europeans had arrived after the abolishment of slavery and the industrialization of agriculture.  We will never know.

Gail’s trusty watch finally died from excessive salt water inhalation.   The glow-in-the-dark Timex with cloth band had served her well.  So we went to the mall. We had not seen a mall since Florida.   The Blue Mall seemed like a project that was destined to fail.   It is four stories of modern mall with enough foot traffic to keep a small bodega in business.   We did our part to keep the mall open by buying a Swatch and  a running shirt.  We learned later that cab drivers are paid 2 dollars per passenger they drop off at the mall.  We had walked.

While there, we met some new friends who were on a Voyager brand catamaran.  I marvel at these boats since they have a bar that extends from the aft portion on the boom for raising the dinghy.   I suppose you learn to trust the construction but I prefer our traditional dinghy arch.  The four of us decided to visit Loterie Farm, which charges 5 euros to go for a hike on the property.  The goal of the hike is to visit a cell phone tower situated at a local geographic maximum.  Caribbean hikes offer many views of radio, microwave and cell phone towers.  The hike was a bit below average in terms of beauty, which matched our opinion of much of St Martin.  We liked it, but did not love it.

St. Martin has two drawbridges, which is unusual since the rest of the Caribbean has about zero. Some charts don’t yet show the second one in the middle of the bay so it is good to keep your eyes open. After 18 months, we are no longer complete rookies. Our Inter Coastal Waterway experience gave us plenty of drawbridge practice, so we passed through like pros, usually the foundation for an upcoming monumental mistake.   Ten days later, while leaving St Martin, we saw a charter cat floundering as it exited.  We were following behind her closely and the bridge operator sent out a boat to scold her for transiting too slowly.  This only slowed her further.   The captain was propelling the boat at drift speed close to the leeward side of the bridge, causing me to assume he would bump the bridge.  But luck was on the charter boat’s side, as the breeze stayed calm while the bridge operator boiled over.

The Heineken Regatta, one of the big Caribbean sailing events, took place during our stay.  Kool and the Gang flew in from the USA as the featured band for the party.  This headliner was not enough to have us leave the cocoon of our marina compound.  Instead we opted for outdoor movie night.

We did see Phaedo 3 race by us going faster than the cars on the island.  Her top speed for the race was 38 knots.  Imagine if Two Fish traveled at that speed; overnight passages would be over in 3 hours.

We left St Martin on the last day of racing and I enjoyed threading through the fleet to reach St Barts.  The low point of the visit was a customs official with a tip jar.  How is that possible?  However, I think I gave St Maarten a bum rap because the wind made life aboard in the wind tunnel marina a bit annoying.

Skills builder

We are always experimenting and learning about securing Two Fish in a Marina.  Marinas are tougher than anchorages since the boat is prevented from floating naturally and there are plenty of fiberglass eating surfaces.  Here are some of the basics we have learned

1 )  Two Fish is never tied up with fewer than 4 dock lines.  A stern line, a mid to stern spring, a mid to bow spring and a bow line.   The spring lines retard fore and aft movements while the bow and stern retard the boat turning.

2) Gentle line angles and longer lines will reduce the load on the boats chocks and cleats.  The boat has ten cleats offering a myriad of clever ways to tie up the boat.  In the strong breeze in St. Martin, we had two bow lines.   The bow farther from the dock was set to hold much of the load.

3) Winches make great cleats. Often we may wish to get the stern close for loading on provisions.  But later, we ease the line to allow the boat to float more naturally away from the dock.  Instead of cleating, we just leave it on the winch.

4)  Fenders can be hung vertically by one line or horizontally by two lines.  The latter is key if the dock has pilings protruding into the slip.

5) In tidal places the length of all dock lines should be 3 times the tide height.

 

Here is the rundown of our boat labor.  Stop reading now if you like the travel stuff but find the technical boat stuff a bit boring.  Be honest-do you think I can drone on about boat things?

 

Job#1:  Fix bridle

 

The Antares has a great bridle which is permanently fixed at the water line. While in Aguilla, I (Jason), installed the bridle with twist.   After 6 hours in a stiff breeze, the bridle ate itself and failed. (click here to read post) The boat stayed on location, but was held by the anchor lock.   This put us in the market for a new bridle. One could say we were motivated buyers.  We did not choose to splice our own and hired the services of FKG marine. We followed our typical rule.  If anything breaks, buy two, one to replace and one as a spare.   In this case our spare is designed to be operated at deck level for flexibility.  We have decided that when leaving the boat at anchor in a strong breeze we will deploy both bridles.    The deck bridle is superior when you wish to make adjustments for particular conditions.  (Short bridle for shallow anchorages where the bridle is being rubbed on the seabed and a skewed bridle for swell coming for a direction other than head to wind.)

 

As an aside the guy next to Gail was ordering 25,000 dollars worth of work for his boat but he had to wait for us to finish up our 100 dollar order.

 

Job #2:  Replace raw water pump

We have 1,000 hours on our engines and the raw water pump bearings had started to fail, allowing a small amount of sea water to enter the bilge.  We were extravagant and installed new pumps rather than rebuild the old ones.  We will now rebuild the old pumps and keep them as spares.  Remember the Two Fish rule: buy two.   When picking up our spare parts from the local dealer we noticed that the entire shop floor was covered with broken sail drives.  We consider ourselves lucky not to have sail drives.  It is also worthwhile to have a gear extractor when changing out the raw water pump.  Supposedly, you can buy a 100 mm at any auto parts store.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We spent a very enjoyable month in the BVI. We are not alone; plenty of sailors have started bareboat chartering in the British Virgin Islands. The total quantity of blog posts, cruising guides, You Tube videos of Willy T’s and annotated chart books of the BVI weighs 7.35 x 10^22 kilograms. Coincidentally, that is also the weight of the moon. Despite this vast coverage of the great sailing islands, I have dared to throw our hat in the ring.

Arrival: Review of BVI Authorities

Our first encounter with the government was checking into the country at Soper’s Hole. New entrants to the country are charged 10 cents for the entry form. This brought a wry smile to my face as I recalled the apocryphal story that the Chinese government charges criminals’ families for the bullet used by the shooting squad. It crossed my mind that I should ask if I could refrain from buying the form and thus skip the paper work. I suspect the death row Chinese man waiting for the shooting squad has had the same thought. “Sir, my family is on a budget. Would it trouble the shooting squad if they did their duties without bullets, to save my family money.” Soper’s Hole was a good place to check in as all the authorities were in the same building and we were able to tie up to a mooring ball close by.

We saw more Police than we would have thought, until we heard some local tales. The Police seem to spend a large amount of time driving the windy roads at excessive speeds as demonstrated by the many dents in their cruisers. Also, the passengers tend not to be official police employees.

The water department has a tough job because the BVI does not get much rain and cruisers use excessive amounts washing their boats. Most residents have a cistern to hold their captured rain water. For drinking water, phone booth style kiosks are popular with locals. We fought the water monopoly and ran our water maker under passage. We spent 30 bucks to wash the boat with metered marina water from a massive water factory in Tortola.

The road department operates under tough conditions and gets good reviews. The roads are steep, but make wonderful hiking paths. I strongly recommend hiking all of the islands.

The Loop: One week speed tour of the Islands with Manhattan Yacht Club
Coincidentally, our home club in NYC was in the BVI during our visit. A fleet of 14 boats: 12 chartered, Two Fish and the Commodore’s flagship Arabella. We did the typical BVI loop which allows for upwind, reaching and downwind sailing. The conditions were moderate: 12-20 knots for most of the week and the sea state only 2 feet. We raced, we partied, and Two Fish got last place in the appetizer competition, despite my being one of the judges. Gail is a great cook but we decided to hike instead of cook and brought store bought hummus dip. In her defense, her dip was the first appetizer finished off.

Intrigue: Murder in the Islands

Now, for a local tale. The BVI seem to be crime-free, but hidden under the tourism, the dark side of humanity still lurks. Little Harbour on Jos Van Dyke is home to two beach restaurants. Both have honor bars and serve plenty of lobster and fish. The businesses were run by locals Harris and Sydney and both are named eponymously. Five years ago, Sydney died due to natural causes and his nephew became more involved in the running of the restaurant. Harris and the nephew had many conflicts related to the capture of lobsters for their competing restaurants. Harris accused the nephew of fouling his fishing boat and raiding his traps. One day the heated relationship boiled over and the nephew killed Harris with a spear gun. Harris’ body was taken away by police boat and the nephew went to prison. Harris’s is now run by his daughter Cynthia and Sydney’s Peace and Love is run by Strawberry. The women in charge have put down the spear guns and are working hard to serve the charter boats.

History
British overseas territories around the world use a term that shocks me. The government refers to permanent residents as “Belongers”. The term is inherited from the United Kingdom but matches with past BVI government policy. The Government of Dr. Orlando Smith tried to keep immigrants to 25 people per year. I never believe tight immigration polices are best for a country in the long run, but that is for the BVI’ers to decide, not me. The BVI’s share something with the oil-rich countries in the Middle East. In a few of these countries, many residents do not participate actively in the work force and temporary residents are required to keep the economy operating. This creates odd social tensions. Non-working locals can be despondent and the temporary residents are not treated fairly. I do not know if this is true in the BVI, but more than one local business owner spoke to me of difficulties in getting locals to care about their jobs. I can understand why, when living in paradise, you might not care about the challenges of 9 to 5.

This modern history of the BVI may have started in 1834 with the emancipation of the slaves and a hurricane that destroyed the original plantations. For the next 100 years the Islanders farmed and fished the land and seas. In 1960 Rockefeller built a resort in Little Dix Bay; in 1968 the Islands got an airport. The boom continued in 1969 as the first sailboat charter company opened its doors. The course for the modern BVI was set.

Parking: Mooring Balls
Any good guide book of suburbia includes a review of mall parking lots. A mooring field is the BVI equivalent of a parking lot. In fact, there is a similar mania involved when two boats are trying to claim the one last ball in the bay, and the boat that anchors in the middle of the mooring field is sort of like the car that blocks you in by creating their own spot. We tend to avoid mooring balls in most places, but have found the BVI balls to be well maintained. The mega corporation of mooring balls is Moor – Seacure. Balls cost $30 a night except near the Bitter End Yacht Club where they charge $35.

I spoke with Sean from Sunchaser Scuba, who services the balls, to learn more about their operation. When the air becomes light Two Fish will spend the evening bouncing off the mooring ball. The noise wakes us from our slumber and can remove small portions of bottom paint. The solution to this problem is to connect the bridle to the shackle at the ball and not use the pennant. The pennant is too long and allows the boat too much freedom. A very tight bridle can keep the ball shepherded between our hulls and, if the breeze builds, one can ease the bridle. Jeff from Echo has taken this one step farther by tying a sacrificial line to shorten the pennant. When the breeze builds the line breaks and automatically the boat has extra shock absorption.

Scuba

I was impressed with the condition of the coral and underwater plants in the BVI. I am not an experienced Scuba diver, unless you counts hours changing zincs. Sunchaser Scuba’s service was 11/10. They washed all my gear for me after the dive. That was deluxe. A great snorkeling spot is at Cooper Island, complete with a line to tie your dinghy to. The bonus is a great restaurant.

Sailing

 

In my opinion the BVI is the best place in the world for day sailing our catamaran. There are plenty of places where land travel is more exotic, but if you want to sail 2-6 hours a day, then the BVI is the best. Why? The winds tended to be steady and, more importantly, the seas not too punishing. There are many anchorages, so you can choose your destination at the last minute and not be locked into a bash to weather. There is plenty to look at while sailing – everything from the scenery of the beautiful islands to the novice skipper bearing down on you without a care on his mind. If you want to learn how to sail, motor, anchor, dock, and moor a catamaran, this is the place to start. If you need a teacher, our friend is the best: caribbeansailingcoach.com

 

How not to deliver 10 Dinghies in the rain
These crazy guys passed us in a squad towing 10 dinghies. 20 minutes we caught up with them as they has lost two of their flock. The junior guy was sent to sit the end of the chain for the rest of the trip.

 

Hiking
If you wish to go to the Soggy Dollar bar in White Bay, do not grab a mooring for the night. The swell can get uncomfortable and watching the surfers gets tiring; instead enjoy the hilly walk from Great Harbour to White Bay. You will build a thirst for the local drinks on the walk and will have a much nicer night’s sleep. Try any of the roads and you will not have to stairmaster for the rest of the week. I chose to run a few of the hills, which in Gail’s eyes was pure silliness. An even nicer walk is the one from Little Harbour to Diamond Cay on the East side of Jost.

While many first time charterers come to the BVI for its ease and then “graduate” to more exotic locations, after a month in the BVI, I still wanted more. As the loblolly pines of Anagada fell over the horizon and the steeps seas shook Two Fish I was tempted to turn around and explore some more. However, Two Fish must swim on. Grenada by June.

Bonus Sailing Photos

We went to Cane Garden Bay to catch up with a friend and watch the Super Bowl.  When we pulled into the bay, we had our first omen.  Gail’s carefully researched sports bar was not in this Cane Garden Bay but 600 miles away in the Turks and Caicos.  No problem; a substitute would be easy to find.

Our second omen arrived via dinghy.  The captain of a 35 foot monohull asked me if I could free dive to 20 feet as his anchor was fouled. I said I would be over in 15 minutes with my SCUBA kit.   Gail was not excited but we both feel you have to help a cruiser in need.  She was concerned about me being trapped by the anchor chain as the boat shot free.

I dove down 7 meters, following the anchor chain to the bottom.  What I found was a shocking mess.  There was an old barge sunk years ago by the British Navy during target practice.  The remains were solid metal, including an exposed winch.   The anchor chain had hooked, spun, stuck and twisted in over a dozen ways.   When I first surveyed the problem, I thought the crew of “Marsha Claire” would have to call for a professional diver but, slowly, I made progress.   The chain had pinned an old boat hook to the wreck.  It took 5 minutes just to free this hazard.   I kept checking my tank gauge and  when it got close to 500 psi I surfaced.   Gail and I went back to Two Fish where I donned my gloves and boots to protect me from the anemones and got a second tank.   My second dive was more productive.   As I freed the last twist, the load of the monohull pulled herself free and I swam aside to avoid the now tightening chain.   The crew of the Marsha Claire were thankful.

After a delightful night aboard, we experienced our third omen, a swarm of small power boats from the USVI started to disgorge surfers. Like smoking and making fireworks, anchoring and surfing are two activities that should not be done in the same space.  We watched the surfers for a bit and then I ferried Gail ashore in One Fish.   She did a well timed leap to the dinghy dock, which was in the middle of the breaking surf.   I tossed the laundry bag to Gail and she managed to grab it before the pounding surf took it away for a sand wash.  I had been using a stern anchor to hold station during this fire drill.  I realized it would not be safe to leave One Fish in this position, so I left Gail ashore.  She was happy to be on terra firma with free wifi.

A couple of hours later, I came ashore via the paddle board (Blue Fish).  It was a fairly uneventful trip.   However, after lunch the waves had built and crossing the breaking surf was a challenge.  I was face planted into the beach and held on to my specks while in the tumble cycle.  Blue Fish was worse for the wear as she lost her fin.  Without a fin, the paddle board travelled in a “leaving a bar after closing time” route.  The serpentine path was not aided by the swell and breeze.  Gail stayed ashore for the rest of the day to avoid the amusement park ride aboard Two Fish.  Later, I was told that Cane Garden Bay can get so bad that mono hulls are fully on their sides.  Unsuspecting charterers hoping for a relaxing one week vacation are trapped aboard because it is too rough to dinghy ashore.  So they call the rental company and are taken off by a large motor boat and move to a hotel room.  Fortunenatly we were in somewhat calmer conditions.

When sunset neared I went back ashore to pick up Gail.  The dinghy dock had gotten much worse during the day and was now submerged in the breaking surf.   We found an alternate dock that created a wave break when approached from one end.

Lessons learned when operating the dinghy in big swell:

1) Do not approach in a hurry.   Spend the time to watch how your target performs in the big waves.

2) Lassoing dock cleats and stern anchors can calm your approach but also might just complicate the process.

3) Stay out of the surf.

4) Know how to use your reverse gear.

We got safely got back on board Two Fish.  Gail had little sleep as the amusement park ride continued into the morning.  That night would clearly have been more comfortable in our NYC apartment?  Did I tell you about how Hurricane Sandy stopped Gail from sleeping?  That is a story for another day but cruising is not always sundowners in paradise.