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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.

 

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.

 

 

Our luck with the fishing gods came to a stop. We had several dramatic strikes, with large fish doing aerial fish ballet (not yet an Olympic sport). But in the world of fishing you can not eat a story. David analyzed each incident for why the fish got away. Too much boat speed, too little boat speed or wrong rod angle. This was not the cause but rather a voodoo hex. The previous day we had caught another Mahi Mahi. David tied a line to the fish and threw him back overboard to bleed out. This trick saves on clean up time. While tying the line he was distracted and tended to the Jib. Upon return, he realized the line had become untied and we lost our dinner. Neptune saw this as rejecting his gifts, and punished Two Fish. Lesson learned, be thankful and respectful of the bounty the sea offers.

Neptune did not extend our fishing punishment into the realm of sail. For the last 10 watches we were making great time. We achieved an over 200 mile day and Tim made a record 18 nautical miles on his 2 hour watch.

 

I used this strong breeze to go a little East of the direct route. The computer refers to this Easting a cross track error. I told everyone that I would like no more than 30nm of easting. The cross track error was nicknamed the “bank” as we could spend it if the trade winds appeared. It was good timing as heading 10 degrees higher moved the breeze forward of our beam, increasing our speed substantially.

 

Lunch was Gail’s chili with her homemade cornbread. Not great for keeping the cockpit clean, but darn tasty. At dinner our culinary luxury continued despite the increased windspeed. We dined with a table cloth and a proper meal. I went to bed telling Gail we would arrive the 20^th or maybe even the 19^th. Good thing she never changed her flight.

 

Day 6 – Jan 17

 

Holy cow, the main salon door will not open. David is locked inside and I am trying to get him out. With a bit of gentle jiggling, the door opens. I announce to all not to use the front door. I remembered that Ed on Calypso had a similar problem. Gail again reached out to the Antares owners for advice. Ed replied quickly with a very helpful note. Mr Fix it (David) asks for some tools and we are off to repair the door latch. First, we straightened the locking plate. We used tongue depressors to avoid scratching it. Gail stocked the boat with everything. David then used loctite to reseat the nut and ensure the faceplate would not get loose. In Grenada, I may try to make this solution more robust, but in the meantime I will avoid stressing the faceplate.

During the morning the breeze shifted to the north allowing the bank to grow to 22 nm of cross-track error to the east, our largest amount for the trip. The weather routers had suggested 400 miles of cross track error, we were shortening the trip and had not yet paid the ugly price. But that afternoon the waves and breeze built. I enjoyed my 2 to 4pm watch immensely. We were all in the cockpit and I was hand steering. The breeze and waves were in perfect synergy to inducing surfing. I would head up to increase the boat speed and catch the now 10 foot waves. Once at the crest I would bear off with expediency, then wait 2 seconds while the rudder and boat became weightless. Then a gentle hum from the bobstays indicated that we were surfing the wave. The speedo rises and rises. Then I looked over our port quarter for the next wave to surf. We got the boat up to 16.9 knots while surfing.

 

During this surfing fiesta Tim managed to make the most amazing fish Tacos. At one point, during the dinner preparation Tim sent Charles up with dishes while I was sending him back. We could see a nasty cloud and I was concerned about food spillage from a possible squall. We had our full canvas up because the lack of rain in this squall meant it did not appear on the radar. When the leading edge caught up to us, we had time to get 2 reefs in the Genoa. Then the breeze rose to 35. We put two reefs in the main. It was a great team effort. Tim steered, leaving many dishes in precarious locations down below. Charles and David helped me with the reefing. It was a bit of action, but never out of control. Tim found all of his dishes in the same place and remarked “I now understand why people buy catamarans”. Everyone enjoyed the fish tacos as the boat was set up with less canvas for the night watches.

I went off to bed with one eye open to make sure we were safe. I messaged Gail “Just came back from a visit to the deck. We had a bit too much sail up for the increasing breeze. I will be up a bunch tonight?”

 

Day 7 – Jan 18

 

We now had less than 200 miles to go. It feels like a month since we were fighting to round the Abacos. I decided to spend the money in the bank. The wind had dropped to 10 knots and the breeze shifted forward. If we spent the bank we could continue with Main and Genoa. We had enough fuel to open a gas station, so had no fear of the forecasted zero wind in 12 hours. Our plan was then to gas guzzle our way to the BVI with both engines.

We tossed up the chute for some vanity shots. Tim did a great job with the foredeck lines while David and Charles worked the cockpit. Both the hoist and douse went off without a hitch.

We were no longer were talking about stair steps or the bank but what we would do on Tuesday. Diving at the Indians was the choice. A few votes for long showers ashore and a few more for air conditioning.

The trip was a kind trip and the weather fair but I was still exhausted from my frequent but unnecessary checks to the helm. The crew were excellent and did not need my watchful eye, but I can not help myself. On my frequent visits to the helm I would spew out many numbers (AWA vs TWA, SOG vs STW, XTE, VMC) but the crew knew that meant keep pointing towards the BVI. A few days ago, David had us headed to Haiti but now the BVI was clearly in our sights.

“4 hours till my last night watch. I already miss the sea.” I wrote Gail on the 7^th night. Night watches mid-ocean are special. You are alone on the boat. The air temperature is perfect. The sky is alive. You are mastering your environment. You are having a true adventure in a world with seat belts and bike helmets. This is why I go to sea.

 

Two Fish Dresses Up

 

We woke up to our final day of flat seas. The weather gurus pretty much got every day wrong and our crazy bet saved us 400 miles and a crew mutiny. The seas were kind enough for a small dinghy and for a moment I considered driving One Fish ahead to visit Immigration. This crazy idea was abruptly binned.

We used our final day to clean up Two Fish. Charles and David washed the decks with fresh water to add to David’s earlier polishing of the stainless. I gathered the paperwork to ease our entry into the BVI. We had filled out the e-clear process but this was for naught as the system was down.

Tim took charge with the final bit of navigation into Soper’s Hole.

We arrived to find Soper’s very full. I could see Gail on the dock but could not hear that she was giving advice on an empty mooring ball. Instead we improvised grabbing a recently vacated ball like an empty spot in the mall parking lot. We picked up the ball in reverse (a Two Fish tradition) and the voyage was over.

They say you can see the mettle of a man while at sea for a week. The crew showed resolution when the ETA seemed bleak, they showed calm when the squall brought 35 knots winds and each man helped Two Fish arrive safely and in better condition than she had left Stuart in. I hope my spirit showed as bright as my crew’s during this voyage. Thank you crew and thank you Gail for provisioning the boat.

 

Final Stats:

1,287 miles sailed through the water

1,130 miles sailed over the ground

7.55 knots average speed

Rhumb line course 1,080 miles

 

On our third day, I saw the color come back into Tim’s face as the waves had calmed down. I was much more relaxed. My spirits were buoyed by the dramatic change in our fortunes. “Making great time! Spirits up big” I wrote. We were motor sailing at almost 6 knots. Thoughts of stopping in San Salvador for fuel seemed reactionary. I was focused on how long we could run the risky short cut route. The ETA was now 7 days. Food kept the crew happy and the hallmark lentil dish was a big hit. Homemade cookies were also disappearing at an alarming rate.

 

The flatter seas offered a great chance to change out the leaking diesel hose on the port engine. Earlier I had only clipped off the end and reattached the hose. We measured up a new hose, cut it with the hose cutter and added a hose clamp. Problem fixed by David. The Port hull diesel smell was eliminated and the Captain’s quarters would get a break from motoring sounds.

 

This was also an opportune time to check our diesel stores. Charles did most of the work of siphoning 6 jerry cans into the tanks. I calculated consumption 2 ways: looking at the fuel gauge (not so accurate) and looking at engine hours (also not so accurate). Luck had it that both measures came out within a gallon of each other. Based on my overly complex spreadsheet, we could motor 80% of the way from here to the BVI assuming the waves and wind were not strong on the nose. With too strong a wind we could only travel half the distance. Fingers were crossed that the short cut would work out.

As I was mulling over the risk, I got another email from our weather routers. Both were suggesting that we go east. I justified my plan to myself through a few points: 1) We had more range with our fuel than the routers calculated, and they wanted us to travel east for the breeze, and, 2) if we got caught in the trades our boat gave us more options that a smaller monohull. In trading, the term for self-justification is talking your own book. Well, I talked my book up to the crew. Reminding them we could always stair-step if we saw the trades coming.

 

Day three also brought a new challenge as the lights in the master head stopped working. Trips to the head had to be done with a head lamp, no pun intended. Gail emailed our fellow Antares owners and they replied with solutions. I remarked to Gail that it was odd that both lights died at the same time. Come morning David and I tackled the problem. I was Robin to David’s Batman. It was an easy fix: a wire had fallen out of the back of the switch in the big seas. David also replaced the screws as they had were a bit rusty. I really appreciated not having to brush my teeth with my headlamp blinding me in the mirror. Gail’s excellent organization of the spares made the repair easy, and I hate to say it, “fun.” This would not be our last fix of the trip.

 

For six hours this day we had wind speeds of 1 to 3.7 knots. David took advantage of the light air and announced that it was time for fishing. The seas were flat, and we were motoring with one engine at 5.8 knots. I suppose I did not take these light windspeeds as a good omen. I satellite texted Gail “Please look at delaying your flight to 21 or 22^nd. Miss you. Siliconed a squeaky floor board in the port forward cabin to help crew sleep better.”

A decent sized Mahi Mahi came aboard as our master Fisherman (aka Batman of boat repair) caught our dinner. David removed the gill to end the fish’s life quickly. This is much more humane, and neater, than my Joe Pesci style of doling out death with a fish bat. Tim took over and cooked the fish on the bbq with an Indian spice mix and a side order of vegetable pasta salad. 4 star cuisine mid-ocean. After that dinner Tim was crowned king of the kitchen. Tim also frequently prepared cocktail hour snacks, a civilizing break. The boat had become a restaurant, as my messages to Gail focused on spices and filet knives, not wind speeds.

 

Our AIS informed us of the passing ships. During my night watch we had a close approach with Clipper Quito. I called her to say that we would be taking her stern and she politely offered to give us a wider pass by applying port rudder. A minute after the business conversation was over El Faro, a 700 foot ship placed a social call to Two Fish. The night watchman was very friendly. He lives in Puerto Rico and sails his pocket cruiser during his free time. We spoke for about 15 minutes but I cut the conversation short so as not to wake the rest of the sleeping Two Fish crew. What a pleasant way to spend a portion of my watch.

 

Day 4 – 15 jan

 

At 5 am, Tim woke me to inform me that the Genoa was not unfurling. Great move by Tim to not push it and break something. Tim did not ask the question, “should we wait until morning?”. I had a good sense of the problem before I reached the furling drum. While unfurling there had not been enough tension on the drum, thus creating a mess of the furling line. I scanned my mind for the culprit and realized it was myself. We travelled under engine in 10 knots of breeze while we worked to correct my mistake. We furled the genoa and then I eased the furling line to give me slack to fix the mess. It looked like we might not have use of the Genoa until the BVI. But with some patience and Tim’s help, and the sail dropped, we conquered the tangled line by fully unwinding the line. I wound the furling line back around the drum without the sail attached and “voilà” we were back in business. It took an hour, but I always enjoy conquering those types of problems because I become more comfortable at operating the boat.

 

We flew the Genoa, but not the Main, as the breeze was too aft and caused the the main to shake. The Genoa gently tugged the bow giving us a bit more speed and made us feel less like a motor boat. During Charles’ watch we had a close crossing situation the ship Mole Efficiency. David and Charles navigated Two Fish through the challenge.

 

The voyage had been hyped as the battle of fishing versus sailing. When I told our mutual friend Ross before the trip that I do not slow the boat down for fish strikes, he rolled his eyes. But after the huge black marlin and the tasty Mahi Mahi I was now a convert. I wanted fish on the boat and if slowing it temporarily increased the chance of good dinner, I was all for it.

However, I never thought I would take my fishing enthusiasms to the next level. We spotted a large sea of weeds. I asked David if he would be interested if we did a circle around the weeds in search of fish. I got a loud YES MAN, so we did rotations of the Sargosso Sea. After our third rotation, Charles caught our appetizer, a medium-sized Pompano. Tim made a simple ceviche with lime, onion and pepper. Best meal of the trip.

 

With the calm seas I inspected the rig and all looked good. I also checked the lockers, which were mostly bone dry. Impressive after transiting some decent size waves during the previous days.

We were far enough from other boats that I decided to test our man over board tracker. I activated the device and took a photo of the message on the Furuno screen. The device is used for finding a crew overboard. They activate the device and then appear on the navigational screen like a ship or AIS target. Very handy for overboards in big waves or night time. I will add this photo to our crew safety briefing.

 

We started to make real progress, with both the full main and genoa drawing nicely with the wind slightly off our port beam. The boat made a lively 6.8 knots for 3 watches in a row. This speed seemed impossible just 2 nights ago. After sunset, boat speed increased to over 8 knots. This is what passage making should always be.

 

Day 4 came to a close with me texting Gail to start looking at crew flights home. This was a sign that I was becoming confident with our arrival time. Flights targeted the 21^st of January. 6 days. Full speed ahead. But at the end of the text conversation, I asked her to hold off on booking until the next day. I suppose I was not fully confident yet.

 

We stayed on the direct route to the BVI. I was disagreeing with the routers and years of maritime history. But you have to be your own Captain? We’ll see what the next days bring.

 

 

 

“I did not realize how long a trip this was going to be. I thought it was just a bit farther than the Bahamas.”-Anonymous crew, Two Fish.

 

We all had a good chuckle at our crew’s comment, but a day earlier our arrival looked much bleaker. The team was carefully chosen for complimentary skills, personality and endurance. As Shackleton said: “Men wanted for hazardous journey. Low wages, bitter cold, long hours of complete darkness. Safe return doubtful. Honour and recognition in event of success.” David is an ocean-going captain with great fix-it skills and a strong passion for fishing. Tim is a former avid sailboat racer and very comfortable in the galley. Charles is Mr. Positive and a true adventurer at heart. He is the owner of the next Antares to splash.

Before a passage making vessel leaves the dock, there are a litany of preparations required. You can get so wrapped up in preparations that you forget to leave the dock. Two Fish and her systems received plenty of maintenance while in Stuart. The engines, water maker, and rigging were all inspected and tuned. Nothing cleans turning blocks better than some soapy water followed by gallons of high pressure water.

Gail was amazing at setting up the boats stores. She started with input from the crew members’ dietary requirements and tastes. She over-bought on everything, so if you see Two Fish feel free to ask for a Cliff Bar. We are thinking of using them as fishing lures. She cooked 5 dishes, each frozen into 2 nights of easy to microwave portions. The fridge also had pasta salad, sandwich meats, pudding, cheese and much more. The meals were:

Beef chili with plenty of vegetables (Got rave reviews), Chick Pea stew with cheese (Was used as a side order), Lentils with salami and vegetables (rated #1), Baked Ziti (Fell short of potential since I over microwaved), and Cous Cous with Tofu (Was never eaten since the crew could never get excited about Tofu)

The crew assembled on the 9^th of January and the immediate topic of discussion was the large waves being recorded at the sea buoy just outside Stuart. I had made the decision earlier in the day that Two Fish would stay in harbor for 2 days. The 10^th would have been a bumpy crossing of the gulf stream and would have set us up for 2 days of very strong and unusual headwinds. The GRIBs predicted that a 2 day delay would reward us with much kinder conditions but unusual weather.

 

Casting Off

Getting off the dock is the hardest part of any voyage. When I would travel for work, I would miss Gail more on the car ride to the airport than any other time. Same with boat deliveries. I do not know how the racers in the around the world race (Volvo) can leave home for such long stretches. Technically, I wasn’t leaving home rather our home was leaving without Gail.

I could sense a bit of tension in the crew before the big trip. The usual fears exists hidden under the surface. Will I get sea sick? Will I be comfortable? The crew’s concerns go away quickly when the boat gets underway. The overused analogy is that football players need to get their first hit under the belt for the tension to go away. Since we had no plans for hitting aboard Two Fish, our first sail hoist would have to do for tension removal.

Our loved ones wished us a last good bye and we cast off. We pivoted on the bow line and spun the boat 180 degrees in 15 knots of breeze. We avoided marina hazards and were off for a true adventure. An ocean passage that many discuss, dream of but never get a chance to undertake. Will our diesel engines behave? Will I choose a good route? Will the waves tower 15 feet when crossing the Gulf Stream? I had to stop with the “will” mentality and let us start sailing. David, a Stuart local, navigated to the inlet avoiding the many shallows. We hoisted the mainsail after 4 miles on the St Lucie River. Charles did a great job holding station and avoiding boat traffic, while Tim and David hoisted the main with one reef. The main would add power and stability for our inlet crossing. Nearing the inlet David asked “I hope it is high tide? The waves are breaking over the breakwater. He went on to say “that is not good if it is low tide.” I sheepishly responded that the tide was one-third off of low as I started to look closer at the breaking waves. But as we approached, we noticed that waves would not be an issue for Two Fish. Her six foot topsides kept us dry as we crossed out into the ocean.

I wrote a long post of the routing plan (click here to read it) for this trip but this is the basic summary.

1) Go directly east for 800 miles, then turn right 90 degrees and head south 600 miles. This route avoids the ugly trade winds from the east that are located south of Stuart. A great blog post was written by the crew of Indigo Moon on this path.

2) Have lots of diesel. We wanted to be able to motor in light air so we loaded the boat with a record 17 jerry cans. The boat’s water line dropped from this weight and the boat was “popping a wheelie” as the stern sunk more than the bow.

This plan would go under many modifications and spawn a new lexicon during the trip.

I thought to myself “I think everyone is a bit green” as we sailed in very confused 5 foot seas. In 18 knots of breeze we were beating to reach the northern tip of the Abacos, the northernmost islands of the Bahamas. We had a reef in the main and the full genoa drawing us across the Gulf Stream. The wind direction prevented us from pointing any more to the east but we were being swept off course. It looked as if we were heading to Norfolk, VA. At one point Gail sent me a satellite text “We are watching your track on the big screen TV. Why are you heading so far north?” The 3 to 4 knots of the Gulf Stream were not a surprise but still frustrating. The objective is to get our latitude from 27 North to 18 North ,but instead the number was climbing. I kept this depressing fact to myself. However, the crew are no dummies and our track was no secret. We encountered few ship crossings and everyone enjoyed tracking the closest point of approach(CPA) and time to CPA(TCPA) of targets. Usually, we like to keep 1 nautical mile away from target. Tim’s watch saw a tanker cross our bow, but we had no need to alter course.

David was eager to get the fishing poles out and within hours, we got a strike. I was at the helm and heard the reel running with a ferocity I had never heard before. I assumed David had set the reel with little tension allowing the fish to pull out much line. I decided to slow the boat to aid in the fishing mission, which I rarely do. Genoa furled and course adjusted the boat was traveling at 2 knots or less. The line was still running. The reel was going to run out of line. What the heck have we hooked? A shark, a submarine? With a bit of line to spare, David stopped the progress of the fish and started reeling in. David, Charles and Tim all worked the reel. This was exciting stuff, what will our bounty from the sea bring us?

The fish was too large for our appetites so we released the fish with a few kind words. Despite the lack of dinner, the excitement lifted everyone’s spirits. But soon that positive emotion would ebb. During the night the sea state progressively got worse and more confused. We rolled up the Genoa to point more towards the East. My rule of thumb for motor sailing is if the angle of the wind to the boat is less than 30 degrees, put away the sails. From 30 to 50 degrees, hoist the Main sail, beyond 50, use the Main and Genoa. We played with our sail combination and angle to the wind to find a more efficient way around the tip of the Abacos. The tug of the Gulf Stream should have abated, but the water temperature and speed indicated that we were still in its grip.

We tried everything to fight our way East/Southeast. We tacked, with the bow pointed almost due South, but the Gulf Stream reduced our speed to less than 3 knots. After an hour, we tacked back. Since you are never supposed to swim against the riptide, I thought, so you should not sail against the Gulf Stream. The boat moved better but we headed too far north. Neither tack gave much satisfaction. The night was spent dodging the predicted thunderstorm cells that showed up nicely on the long range radar. We dodged most of the them and the few that caught Two Fish brought winds in the low 20s and soaking rain, but no lightning. The GRIB (weather) files stated that CAPE (measure of thunderstorm likelihood) was at a high reading. That night I wrote Gail a brief satellite text “Slow run. Magic 8 ball ETA is 15 more days. All asleep. I am in the full enclosure with strong rain giving the boat a good wash. 17 knot headwind. Weather file failed to download.” Gail kindly replied with a brief weather forecast, predicting better conditions were on their way. She also discovered that my GRIB (weather data) provider was suffering from a hacker attack. Of all the weeks! No problem, I used my back up GRIB viewer. I had gotten soaked during one of the squalls, so changed into fresh clothes before going to bed.

We had been at sea for almost 24 hours, travelling at less than half our normal speed. This was the beginning of some tough hours for the navigator. We had planned for a maximum passage of 14 days. The 2 day delay reduced our window to 12 days. While on my first morning watch, the horror of our slow progress sunk in. The navigation computer showed an ETA in 18 days. That is almost February! I started to go through our options. Start a second engine to fight the current. No thanks, as we need to save our diesel. Shorten the trip. Too early to panic? Motor 300 miles at full speed to San Salvador or somewhere else in the Bahamas to refuel? This would mean a late night arrival and a long wait for the fuel dock to open. I decided to press on, knowing that the current could not trap us forever. Patience is key on a long passage.

 

Settling In

 

The log book from the second day at sea is littered with speed over ground recordings of 4 knots. The remarks are benign “Saw ship pass”, “Nearest point to the Abacos” “Paddle wheel indicates Gulf Stream is still pulling us North”

On the morning of our departure, I had reattached the fuel hose on our port engine leading from the feed pump to the manual pump. A small amount of diesel was still leaking from the area of the barb. We chose to run the starboard engine exclusively until we could address the leak in calm seas. Diesel fumes and rough seas wobble even the saltiest of sailor’s stomachs.

Two Fish and her crew pressed on in light air with only motors. The crew were great and did not speak of the elephant in the room. Were we ever going to round the Abacos? Can we get an airlift out? As night arrived for the second time on the trip we still had not matched our first day’s goal. But I had a plan! If we took a short cut and traveled on the direct route, rather than due East and the South, we could capture back our lost time. This could be a risky maneuver, since if the traditional trade winds filled in at 20 knots from the east, we might have a 900 mile trip from hell. The GRIBs were encouraging me to take the short cut, as two TROFs were holding a high pressure system across our intended short cut. The waves should die down, the current disappear and we should be able to motor straight to the BVI. The “ifs”, “ands”, or, “buts” in our plan created some apprehension, but I decided to give it a shot. If the Easteries looked likely to appear then I would turn immediately to the East, to stay in the lighter portions. We called this move the stair-step. The reverse stair-step also entered our lexicon.

Tim held a star gazing class while we passed the Abacos. It got rave reviews as he came equipped with a laser pointer that allowed for easy identification. He seemed to know a limitless number of objects in the sky, pointing out stars, galaxies and a passing comet. However, our reality was still a bit bleak-as he came off watch, Tim remarked in the log book that our speed was barely above 3 knots and we were not headed to the BVI.

In my midnight log entry, I make it official: “Pressure is mounting. ETA Jan 25 (11 days). WTF. “ But I later wrote in the same log entry “We have a plan. Motor or motor sail a course of 125 degrees. Do stair-step if strong South-easterlies fill in.” We had access to weather routers on the trip but this unusual weather pattern had them confused. They insisted that going East was key to protect us from strong trade winds we would encounter once we werecloser to the BVI. We respectfully chose to go our own route. I shared this risk with the crew and they were upbeat about taking the shortcut. Our ETA was improving, not because of boat speed rather my shortening of the route to reflect the new plan. I did admit my accounting fraud to the crew but I suspect they figured it out on their own.

Tim noted in the log that we passed Fox Island Radio tower, tallest structure on the Abacos. At night it was only a flashing light. We couldn’t turn yet. David was forced to tack to the north east on his watch as we were headed too close to the Abacos. Good to avoid lee shores in the middle of the night, but depressing to be going the wrong way again. The breeze was now South East as one of the weather reports had predicted. This would be one of the few times the weather gurus got it right. The job of a weather man is not easy. The crew was joking that we should ask for a refund. I was just looking for a chance to try our new strategy, while wondering whether we would be Easting forever.

 

 

We have been aboard Two Fish for over a year and besides encounters in Uruguay and Brazil, we have had no boardings by the  police or Coast Guard.  That changed yesterday when the Sheriff came aboard; today the US Coast Guard boarded us for inspection.  The USCG were professional, friendly and had good control of their vessel.  We were on the flat waters of the Intercoastal Waterway, when they pulled up behind our stern.  Instead of hailing us on VHF, they signaled us to communicate that they were boarding.   Once they came aboard, they introduced themselves, asked if we had guns and surveyed our boat for threats (their words).   After the coast was clear (pun intended), they went methodically through the list of items one must have to be deemed a safe vessel.