British Virgin Islands

The bubbly pools at Jost Van Dyke were pretty tame
when we were there.

The British Virgin Islands are not as British as I expected. No one speaks with an English accent for one thing. They use U.S. dollars. There were two pictures of Barack Obama hanging in the Customs office but no pictures of the Queen.

The beautiful views and almost perfect weather are a nice backdrop to the show offered by the bareboat charter boats. There are a lot more charter boats here than we have seen before (certainly more than The Bahamas) and most of them are just fine. But the sheer number of charter boats means that there are some less experienced captains in the mix.  And a few outright yahoos.

In the crowded anchorage at Jost Van Dyke, we saw one power catamaran backing through the entire anchorage at 5 knots. Then there was the anchor spot quarrelling match, done rather one-sidedly over a mast-mounted PA system. After seeing these and some of the other shenanigans, we felt like we should stay with the boat to protect it. But restlessness prevailed and we loaded into the dink and headed with Halcyon around the corner to White Bay.

After a bit of walking around White bay and seeing even more well lubricated charterers on vacation, our friends on Del Max joined us.  They told us that the same power cat that was tooling around in reverse had dragged anchor and was floating loose around the anchorage without anyone aboard. Oren from Del Max and another cruiser jumped aboard, turned on the engines, and got the boat re-anchored.

On our way back to our boat, we stopped by a charter cat that had anchored very close to us, as well as to a nearby mooring. Matt gently explained to the captain that the shifting winds would put him very close to the mooring ball and possibly our boat. It also turned out that the boat hadn't put out the recommended 5-to-1 ratio of chain to depth in the 40-foot depth. The captain thanked Matt and we went back to our boat. It was a very friendly and civil conversation.

Then the charter catamaran promptly...did nothing. The winds moved a bit and the charter boat crept closer and closer.  The sun started going down and the charter cat put on navigation lights instead of a mooring light. They continued to swing closer. At one point we heard someone hail them on the VHF and they didn't answer, so Matt yelled over to let them know. This was easy to do since they were only 20 feet off our stern. They scrambled around for a bit, apparently looking for the radio or perhaps trying to figure out how to make the radio work. Finally, after the sun dipped below the horizon, they decided they were too close and began to pick up anchor--a process that was anything but smooth.  Four guys simply staring into the anchor locker does not apparently make the anchor raise itself.  Since all this was going on right next to us, Matt discreetly tried to get a fender out of the forward compartment in case it was needed.  Luckily it wasn't required, but we were late to dinner on Del Max because we needed to wait until after they had left to make sure nothing crazy happened.


Sandy Spit (with Halcyon in the foreground) in a rare unoccupied
moment. It's a tiny island that gets a ton of visitors.

After leaving Jost Van Dyke, we have been in places with more room to breathe. We headed over to Sandy Cay and Sandy Spit for some snorkeling and beach time. Brit got some kite surfing in. With more adults around to help watch the kids, Matt, Brit, and Oren were able to go on a dive. It was only so-so and Darya and I decided not to go.

Trellis Bay. Stuff that gets lit on fire during the full moon parties.

White Bay is a secluded anchorage with fewer boats. We snorkeled and played on the beach. Brit did some surfing in nearby Josiah Bay. It was pretty but we could hear our anchor chain dragging along the rocks on the bottom. It's strange how much the sound resonates through the boat. We snorkeled at Monkey Point, visited the baths at Virgin Gorda (it's an amazing place that lives up to the hype-- unfortunately all our pictures got accidently wiped out), and spent some time at Peter and Norman Islands. After checking out at Virgin Gorda, we will leave for St. Martin during a window of hopefully light winds.

St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands

We gave Brit, the lifeguard, grief about bringing
 an umbrella on our hike but the kids loved it.

We spent a few days on the beautiful beaches of St. John. Matt has fond memories of the area from his childhood and chartering with friends in his youth. I think it's fun for him to share the memories with Conrad and Mark.

We have mostly had good wind for sailing between anchorages, although sometimes the windy nights can be noisy and roll-y. We are required to use moorings in St. John, which is new to us because we almost always use our anchor. I was a little stressed about picking up moorings because we had only done it once before and we have seen plenty of boats embarrass themselves trying to pick up a mooring. But Matt puts the boat right over the ball and has set up an easy rigging system. So far, we have picked up each mooring on the first try and haven't dropped the boat hook in the water. Of course, there's always a first time. Don't think I'm getting cocky or anything.

Annaberg Sugar Mill ruins. The kids loved
 the dum bread samples baked fresh on site.

We have been buddy-boating with Brit from Halcyon and Darya, Oren, Mika, Gur, and Arbel on Del Max. The kids and adults are having a lot of fun together.

As Brit says, he's just a big kid.

It's nice to get back in the water again, especially as the weather heats up. Just enough rain appears each day to ensure frequent rainbows.

The place is lousy with turtles. It's great.

Our next stop is the British Virgin Islands, which is right next door but doesn't have the home court advantage of the U.S.V.I.s. From what I can tell, that mostly means that the Customs and Immigration process isn't necessarily quite as easy and our SIM cards probably won't work anymore.

St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands

Our friend Brit from Halcyon took this rare family shot for us.

We arrived in St. Thomas on a Tuesday, when a couple of gigantic cruise ships were in town. Downtown Charlotte Amalie was swarming with cruise ship passengers as the jewelry, liquor, and T-shirt stores vied for their attention. After a short time, we had had enough of the crowds and the repetitive stores. The oppressive heat and humidity didn't help either. On the other hand, with tourism as the country's main source of income, we can appreciate the financial benefit that the cruise ships provide. It was also nice to duck into the stores to catch small breaks in air conditioned comfort.

St. Thomas harbor. There's our boat, right...there.

On Wednesday, we went on the hunt for nuts (food, not hardware), which is the one thing that we weren't really able to stock up on in Puerto Rico because they were still so pricey. We picked up a few almonds because they were the least expensive we have found so far but we struck out on walnuts. The next time we're at a Costco in the States, we're squirreling away half a boat load of nuts. The U.S. Virgin Islands are also duty-free, so we picked up some cheap rum to knock out all the fish we're going to catch.

Since then, it's been raining. A lot. If you look at the radar, there's a huge swath of green (and yellow and red) that has just been sitting over the area. Fortunately the lightning has been sporadic. Although it has been wet, at least the boat is the cleanest it's been in a while. It's also much cooler and less humid, which is a relief.

Also, Matt has been dutifully crossing off items on the boat's ever-present to do list, including replacing the starboard engine's bilge pump. Unfortunately, there are always new surprises to add to the list. Matt found a stray nut (hardware, not food) laying on the ground in the port engine compartment and after some investigation figured out that one of the four bolts that holds the propeller shaft to the transmission had fallen out again, less than a year after resolving the same issue. Because reattaching the bolt requires pulling off the entire shaft coupler, Matt tried briefly to rationalize to himself that maybe the three remaining bolts would be good enough. Commonsense won out over being sick of boat work and he fixed it. We have also learned that apparently Loctite isn't strong enough to stand up to the vibration of our engine.

Then one morning our second brand-new freezer controller (again, less than a year old) decided to die. Fortunately, a refrigeration company in town had one and we didn't have to try to save a freezer full of meat and fish or wait a week for the part. The controller is under warranty and the manufacturer is sending a new one out, so we will carry it as a spare in case it breaks again. I am starting to think it would be easier to go vegetarian than keep this hunk of junk freezer. It's been nothing but trouble since we had it installed. But...ice. And ice cream.

"99 Steps" - Matt and Brit actually counted
102 steps. It's a huge scam.

During a break in the rain, we did some touristy things with our friend Brit on Halcyon. It was a Friday, which apparently means that there are no cruise ships in town and, probably as a result, lots of touristy things are closed (Blackbeard's castle, the cable cars, the museum). It felt like we had the town to ourselves. That is until we went to the store and encountered the gridlock from Friday afternoon rush hour traffic.

Cat on a...you know where I'm going.



 

When the squalls clear up, we'll head to St. John's and then over to the British Virgin Islands.

 



In case it's not obvious, there are some steep hills here. Matt
and Brit on one of the steepest roads of this length I've seen.

Culebra, Fajardo, and San Juan

Puerto Rico is both familiar and exotic. It has the familiarity of the U.S. Postal Service, Coast Guard, National Park and Forest Service, and just about every chain store and restaurant imaginable. Although English is widely spoken, Spanish is the main and first language in most conversations (a surprising number of people just ignore you outright if you speak English to them). Traffic signs are in Spanish. In an odd schism of competing measurements, speed limits are in miles per hour but distances are in kilometers and gas is sold in liters.  A Quarter Pounder is a "Royale with Cheese"--wait, never mind, that's something else.

Mostly it is verdant and scenic. For the first time since we started cruising, we are anchored next to big rolling hills filled with lush greenery. The waters are nowhere near as clear as the Bahamas, but from what we hear, that's something we'll have to get used to as we head further into the Caribbean.

The peak at El Yunque. Cell reception was not as great as you'd think.

After our long passage, we spent a few days on the island of Culebra, making sure to eat at Zaco's Tacos. Several cruisers raved about it, as did the Customs officer that checked us in. It's a funky little place that actually lived up to the hype. We also spent a night at Culebrita.  It is a lovely island nearby with an amazing beach and a fun hike to an old castle/maze-like lighthouse.

Even though we gave up 20 miles of easting, we then headed to Fajardo on mainland Puerto Rico to pick up some boat supplies and food. We got a good deal on a rental car for a few days. It took some time to get used to zipping around in the unpredictable traffic. When you're used to traveling an average of 6 knots an hour with no one else near you, 50 miles an hour in hilly and heavy traffic seems really fast. Mark kept asking, "How fast are we going?"

Taking advantage of our new found mobility, our first stop was El Yunque, which is the only rain forest in the U.S. National Forest Service. It is filled with waterfalls and natural pools, as well as hundreds of varieties of vegetation and wildlife--mostly frogs (coqui'). Mark and Conrad surprised us by climbing over six miles to the highest peak and back with minimal complaining. Another long hike took us to a waterfall and pool where Matt and the boys took a refreshing swim and experienced a waterfall pounding on their heads.

After a long day of hiking, we drove over two hours (apparently rush hour traffic is another aspect of the mainland US that has taken hold here) to the town of Guaynabo because Matt saw something on the internet about how there was supposed to be a festival for the patron saint of the town. When we got there, there was no festival, and no one we talked to had ever heard of the festival.  So definitely believe what you read on the internet!  Despite the lack of festivities, we had a fantastic and inexpensive meal at El Guayabo. They served up fine examples of the local fare, including arroz con pollo and mofongo con churrasco.  We took it as a good sign that all the other patrons were locals.

Our next entire day was spent doing laundry and shopping for boat stuff and groceries. Mark and Conrad love the Laundromat. Other people must think that they really don't get out much.

We also visited Old San Juan and walked around the forts. We had a great meal at Fattie's, which is a Jamaican and West Indian fusion restaurant with local influences. It is relatively inexpensive and a favorite of foodies visiting the area. The restaurants here are dangerous to our waistlines and pocketbooks. All told, we managed to spend $2,800 in five days. That includes $500 of diesel and gas, loads of provisions and some deferred repair items, but still. We spent $1,300 in the entire month of March. Yikes.

Now that we're stocked up on provisions and boat supplies and if the wind is favorable, we will head over to the United States Virgin Islands. We were originally going to go to Vieques but decided against it because the famous bioluminescent bay there has reportedly been quite a bit dimmer this Spring and the moon will keep things bright until the early morning, which makes it hard to see the glowy creatures in the water.

George Town to Puerto Rico

Wahoo!

A typical Pacific crossing from Panama to French Polynesia takes 20-something days. So theoretically our seven day passage from the Bahamas to Puerto Rico (or specifically to the Spanish Virgin Island of Culebra) was about a third of a Pacific Ocean passage in time if not distance. Last year, when our longest passage was three days, spending almost a month at sea seemed impossible. Now after surviving seven days, it seems doable - not fun or easy, but at least doable. This is probably not welcome news to our parents, who noticed the unfortunate failed attempt by Rebel Heart.

Wahoo and a mahi--both hit at the same time.

Before we embarked on the so-called "Thorny Path" (so named because the easterly slog from the Bahamas to the leeward islands into constant trade winds from the east is like walking down a miserable, pain-laden trail), we talked to experienced cruisers who had done the trek last year. In addition to providing lots of valuable advice they would say things like, "Better you than me" and  "That was the worst." This is because not only can't you sail very much but you're also motoring and often slamming against opposing wind waves. So when the forecasts showed a very rare reversal of the trade winds due to strong low pressure system coming off of the coast of Georgia, I stopped being so obsessed with not burning diesel and began to appreciate the upcoming opportunity to sail a good part of the way and motor in more pleasant conditions.

Best sushi restaurant within 300 miles

 

Before leaving Georgetown, we had the typical discussions about routes with the other cruisers heading our way.  Everyone had a strategy and an opinion, and they would often change hourly as the forecast changed and predicted winds shifted.  In the end, we ended up having to stay a couple of extra days in Georgetown to fix our heat exchanger on the port engine, so we missed departing with our friends on Halcyon and Waterbug.  But this wasn't all bad as we got to spend a few more days with other friends that we wouldn't see again for awhile. 

On a side note, we really need to get better about bringing a camera when we go places. Matt, Paul (Shambala) and Ernesto (Taia) were fishing in Georgetown when a dolphin showed up and swam with them for 40 minutes. Unfortunately, no one had a camera. After a potluck bonfire on the beach with friends from Shambala, Taia, Good Trade, What If, and Music (again, no pictures), we sailed to Calabash Bay the following morning. The sailing was good and the bay is beautiful but the anchorage was very roll-y and uncomfortable.

We left Calabash Bay on Easter Sunday after waiting for some squalls to pass through. We pulled anchor not really knowing the destination.  We decided to see what the wind would do and either island-hop our way east slowly over the next month or, if the forecast would stay true, go all the way to Puerto Rico. Luckily, the forecast held, and the winds were mostly with us and we made it all the way to the eastern side of Puerto Rico. We flew the spinnaker for a couple days, sailed very slowly for part of the time, sailed very fast part of the time, and ran an engine about half the time. No one got seasick or hurt, our fixes held, and nothing new broke (unless you count Matt almost knocking himself out by hitting his head into the door frame as he rushed to fix the depth instrument as we approached our destination). And we caught lots of fish: 3 wahoo, 1 mahi-mahi, and 1 tuna.

We're relaxing in Culebra for a few days before we head over to Fajardo to re-provision, get a new bilge pump for our starboard engine, and do laundry. From there we'll hit Vieques and then move through the U.S. Virgin Islands and British Virgin Islands before turning south to slowly make our way to Grenada over the next couple of months.

Even more sushi!

The people you meet

We gave the mahi mahi some coconut rum that
worked great to calm it down for a few minutes. This was taken
 after it started wearing off and the fish began thrashing again.

There are lots of great things about living aboard and cruising: scenic views from your home, gorgeous sunsets, the freshest seafood you can get. But the best part for us has been the people we have met. We have made fast friendships that we hope will last a lifetime. Many of the people are from different geographical locations or have had vastly different careers than us, so its always interesting to get together.  So many people have had way more interesting lives than we have. It's both inspiring and (at times) somewhat depressing.

We have also been blown away by the generosity and kindness of strangers (both cruisers and land-based folks). It's enough to bring a tear to the eye of a cynical recovering attorney from the big city.

We met one family on the internet who offered up their car before we met in person. Last New Year's we met a family in Eleuthera and spent about an hour with them. This April when we visited Nassau, they generously spent several hours giving us a great tour of Nassau and the island of New Providence.

Chester, Elsa, and Kyle took us all over New Providence. We
stopped next to this airport to see the approaching planes. Kyle's
going to be a pilot when he grows up.

I clicked a couple seconds too soon. It got MUCH bigger.

We hung around Nassau for a couple of extra days waiting for good winds and then blew out of there on the heels of a front that was passing through.  We had a fast and bumpy 2-day sail (with a brief overnight stop near Black Point). The second day was mighty uncomfortable with the wind as far forward as we could go and 6 foot waves on the beam but it took us only 2 hours to complete a stretch that took us 8 hours on the way up. Just as we approached Georgetown, the winds abated a bit and we slowed down slightly to only 6 knots.  But it worked out as we caught a mahi right before we entered Elizabeth Harbour , after we had given up all hope of catching anything.

Here in George Town, Mark and Conrad have attached themselves to the hip of Kyler on Good Trade and his good buddy Derek from What If. Kyler, Derek, kid-at-heart Brit (Halcyon) and the kids from Waterbug have all towed Mark and Conrad around on boards for hours. Mark and Conrad are in heaven and are lucky to have such tolerant teens around.

Charles from Waterbug took some great shots of the boys boarding.

Matt has been tending to boat ills (port radiator leaking coolant, air in the starboard engine system, and water coming in through the starboard transom tread while the bilge pump is currently quasi-operational). None of the issues is critical but we want to take care of them before we start heading south and east to the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico. As soon as we get everything squared away, we will solidify our route and figure out when our best wind and weather will be. If we can everything fixed in time, we hope to travel with a few boat friends for at least part of the way.

Nya-nya-nya-nya Nassau

Mark, Alexis, Nicholas and Conrad enjoying sherbet in
downtown Nassau. Yes, they voluntarily chose fruit ice cream.

We had passed up Nassau multiple times in our previous trips, avoiding the city based on other people describing the city as dirty, noisy and crime filled.  But there was no escaping it this time. We were meeting friends who were staying in Nassau for a week.  So off we went.

In less than 8 hours, we had had our fill of Nassau and it had nothing to do with the State Department warnings about increased crime in the city. So what was problem? Let me count the ways...

The aquariums at the Atlantis are spectacular.

 

1. (Note to all grandparents, also known as 'our primary audience', we are fine and the boat is fine.) We took  a big breaking wave over the bow as we were rounding Paradise Island to approach the harbor from the west because we are too tall for the bridges on the direct route that boats with normal sized (or no) masts) can follow. The ocean swell was big from the strong northeast winds of the previous few days, but they were mostly following swells, which should have been okay. Or so we thought. We saw some breaking waves off in the distance, but they were closer to shore.  Suddenly a couple of larger swells passed by that had started to hump up and look like they might break, but they didn't. When the next set of swells came through, the faces was steeper and the first one looked like it was about the break. Matt quickly turned the boat to face it head on, causing an uncontrolled gibe in the process (which is not good, but certainly the lesser of two evils). The first swell passed underneath without breaking, but then we were faced with a larger wave that was already had a wall of whitewater coming down its face.  Matt yelled to hold on and the boat pitched up the face of the wave and then slammed down into the trough. We're not sure how big it was but it was several feet above Matt's head and was a scary thing to behold as it came up over the bow and crashed into the cockpit with a roar.*

2. After (what felt like) our near death experience, we motored past several behemoth cruise ships into the crowded harbor as the smell of their exhaust choked the air. We found a spot at the edge of the small and crowded anchorage. Our boat sailed around at anchor with the opposing wind and current (although nowhere as bad as St. Augustine) while tourist boats raced by and threw up big wakes. A police boat came by several times to talk to boats that were in a somewhat arbitrarily demarcated "turning basin" and told us we should move at one point when our boat swung out closer to the channel during one of its weird swings.

3. As the sun went down, we continued to swing in weird ways and boats kept whizzing by, causing our boat to rock back and forth for a couple minutes afterwards each time. Club Med or some resort started a very loud beachside party with a yelling DJ, music, and laser lights.

4. At around 10 p.m. when the boys were sound asleep and Matt was nodding off despite the noise from the party, we heard a series of huge explosions that sounded like we were being bombed. With hearts racing from the terror-induced adrenalin surge we stumbled into the cockpit to figure out what was happening. It turned out to be a barge that was about 75 yards away from us setting off an impressive fireworks display. We have never been that close to the staging area of such a big display and we were very happy to be upwind as sparks showered down around the fireworks boat. It looked at one point as if there was a medium fire on the barge and a few shells went off on the deck of the boat. The show went on for a long time and was very, very loud. Incredibly, Conrad and Mark slept through it all.

In the next week, we were chased away from one anchor spot by a construction barge, warned away from a cruise ship by a cranky Defense Force boat, and boarded to have our paperwork checked by the local police. Although they were very friendly and professional, it was still the first time we had been boarded. Several other boaters lamented how much the harbor had changed. Nassau stands in stark contrast to the sleepy islands and settlements to which we have become accustomed.

Despite the dire warning about crime from other cruisers (and a couple of local Nassau residents), Nassau itself seems to us like any big city, except with friendlier people, and plenty safe. Granted, we have only walked through during the day but we have young kids so that's how we roll.

Luckily, any misgivings we had about Nassau were completely offset by the fact that we had a blast with our friends who had come to visit us. They spent something like a gazillion dollars to come and stay at the Atlantis resort. We were very sad to have to say goodbye. As a bonus, they brought a bunch of boat parts with them.

We will start heading south again as soon as the winds turn back around.

Mark chilling in the rapids river.

*In hindsight, we should have gone a bit further south to avoid the area of waves, which were breaking across a shallower shoal area which were marked on the Navionics charts but not on the usually more reliable Explorer charts that we use most for close quarters navigation. We were following the waypoints on the Explorer charts, which are usually the safest way to get anywhere in the Bahamas.  We were lucky that the everything came out okay through the wave hit and the 2 uncontrolled gibes (the second one was after the big wave hit and we were scrambling to get to deeper water) . Water splashed into the cabin from the open cockpit door and came in through some of the hatches but everything else seemed to be working other than our depth gauge. Matt tightened up the hatch handles on those that leaked and fixed the depth gauge a few days later by refilling the mineral oil that had spilled out.