Culebra, Day 2

Mike wakes up early and puts the cheese and ham croissants in the oven so when I eventually come to, a delicious smell is permeating the boat.  Sadly for us, the weather is favourable for Kev and Jo and they have already departed.

Two cups of tea, a croissant and another 80 or so pages of my unputdownable book later, I am coaxed out of bed (remember, these couple of weeks are a holiday!) and we go in search of the internet cafe as we are still unable to get connected to any of the many unsecured systems here.

The lady in Excetera is very friendly and a mine of information.  Mike spends nearly an hour in there while I interrupt her work with chatter but eventually we leave and go exploring.

We spot Pandeli, and pop in to buy a couple of Culebran pasties.  They are delicious.  We go to the ferry dock and see one loaded with lorries, its loading ramp down and the front of a lorry hanging over.  We presume that the ferry has just arrived and they are waiting for the tide to come in a bit more so that the ramp can be lowered properly, because how can the ramp be fully closed with the front of the lorry hanging nearly a foot over it?  We turn away for a few minutes and when we look back, the ferry has left.  Amazing.

Photo:  Culebra ferry dock

Being nearly lunchtime, we look for a suitable watering hole and decide upon Mamacitas on Castelar Street near the bridge and overlooking the water at the rear.  The food is excellent.

 Photo:  Mamacitas overlooking the water.

In the afternoon, I sit down and start work. Our blog is born, and at this point, most of it is entered very retrospectively (don’t be fooled by the dates!).  I try to do it as Jo has shown me.  Luckily, Mike, being far more technical with me, “guides” me through the process.  This involves much tutting and shaking of head on his part, which I dutifully ignore and carry on in my own sweet way.  I allow him to censor me occasionally and bow to his superior knowledge of nautical terminology.

Culebra, Day 1

I try as hard as possible to put off the evil moment of going ashore to check in, but Mike won’t hear of it and off we go.  We are assured by a friendly Aussie on a neighbouring boat that the Customs and Immigration at the airport is “only five minutes up the road”.  Well it probably is if you power-walk and don’t have to run the gauntlet of the men with diggers who are lifting up large chunks of road.  Eventually we arrive, having dodged many chickens on the way, determined to make their presence seen and heard.

We pull open the door of the Customs department to be met by the official just going off for his hour-long lunch break at 12 noon on the dot.  I smile hopefully that he will process us – after all, it can’t take that long can it?  But no, he’s off (very politely) and invites us to return at 1.30.

Photo:  Local shop – closed of course!

We wander back into town but looking around the shops doesn’t really take very long, so we stop for lunch at the Dinghy Dock Restaurant and watch the tarpon swimming just a few feet away from the deck.  Three turn into 9 of these large fish, ranging from 4 to 6 feet in length.  The largest one has obviously had a close call with something larger as he has a chunk missing from near his dorsal fin.  Watching these fish leisurely swimming around takes our mind off the fact that our food takes ages to arrive, but when it does, it is delivered in such a friendly, laid back manner that it really isn’t a problem.  Mike’s choice is brilliant;  mine, OK.

Then we have the walk back to the airport.  Same officer, same polite manner, same level of ridiculous bureaucracy.  He takes one look at our British passports, and in a near-horrified voice, says “please tell me you have US visas”.  We do, and he is pleased but no wonder he didn’t want to process us before he left for lunch -  it takes 20 minutes with 5 forms to fill out; 3 for the boat and 1 for each of us and lots of things to be put into his little computer.

Eventually though, we are processed and legal once more and off we trundle just as the heavens open.  We put our jackets on but the deluge is so great that we are forced to stand on a concrete bench under a school shelter to escape the full force of it, and begin the slow process of steaming from the inside out!  Ten minutes later the sun is out and we ride a very wet dinghy back to the boat.

The weather is not favourable to Kev and Jo leaving today, so after changing, we go over, me for a lesson in using Windows Live Writer and E-Blogger, and Mike to drink beer.  Later, we go through the sad process of saying goodbye again and head back to Jeannius for supper and bed.

Jost Van Dyke to Culebra

Aiming to set sail from Great Harbour, Jost Van Dyke, at around 8 am, impressively (for me anyway), we manage to get away by 8.15. The forecast for the day is for overcast skies with gentle 15-20 knot winds behind us. In reality, the winds are 20-34 knots (peaking at 38.5 knots) all the way over to Culebra, although they are right about the direction and the clouds!

Although we leave in tandem with Kevin and Jo just 50 yards away, we quickly part company. As it is so rough inshore, Kevin decides to go further offshore but it makes no difference – we both have the same conditions – lumpy, lurching, multi-directional waves that make for quite an uncomfortable ride, and make me feel quite seasick at times.

Mike decides to try a spot of fishing with the new line and lure that Kevin has prepared for us. Even though it was a ‘lucky’ lure, it doesn't work for us and we catch nothing. The line has a great time though. It jumps and leaps and gets itself so tangled that Mike eventually has to pull it in by hand and cut off hundreds of yards.

We sail into Dewey after 5 or so hours, pleased to see that the evil-looking reef is so obvious and set the anchor. Mike goes for a trundle around in the dinghy while I, in time honoured fashion, have a little nap!

When I wake up, there is still no sign of Mike, so I take the opportunity of using all the hot water for my shower. As I finish, Mike clatters onto the boat announcing that we have dinner guests arriving in 45 minutes. I emerge 15 minutes later, hair dried and straightened, dressed and made up (sort of) and immediately realise my mistake. Mike now knows how quickly I can do this when it suits me and will probably expect this speed all the time.

Kev and Jo arrive on the dot. The table is laid, the music is on and the tiger prawns are just about defrosted and ready to cooked in butter, garlic and chilli. There is plenty of Sauvignon Blanc and I am a happy cook. We spend another happy evening in Kev and Jo's company, sad that they are leaving tomorrow to head north while we stay in Culebra.

Cane Garden Bay to Jost Van Dyke

We get up early as both Mike and I have chores to do before we head over to Jost Van Dyke.  Mike has to remove the boat’s whiskers (the green slimy stuff that grows on the hull amazingly quickly if you hang around anywhere for more than a few days) and the barnacles.  I have the laundry to do, which seems to be the easier of the two chores, especially as Mike’s job involves getting into the sea, which I do as infrequently as possible.

Mike takes me to the dinghy dock muttering that it’s about time I had another dinghy lesson.  I hate driving the damn thing as I always turn the throttle the wrong way and end up hurtling towards things at high speed, but it would be so much easier if I could get to shore by myself.

I find the laundrette.  Mostly it is a graveyard for old, rusty machines.  I count 5 washing machines and 3 tumble driers which are dead but as I am the only person doing the washing at this time of the day, there are lots of others to choose from.

Jo wanders past on her way to the rubbish skips and points out that one of the machines I have chosen to use is a tad slower than the others.  A tad slower?  It takes 20 minutes longer on a cycle that only takes that time to start off with.  That one is obviously on Caribbean time.  While I wait for the machine to finish, I watch a herd of goats outside, especially one black billy, who bullies all the others, chasing them around the tree and scattering the chickens in all directions.

Only one other customer comes in during my time – a local lady.  She arrives with two plastic bags of washing at a time, until she is surrounded by them.  I watch, facinated, as she pours washing liquid, chlorax (bleach) and Fabuloso (kitchen floor and surface cleaner) into each of her machines.  She either has a very dirty family or she is a chemist who knows the exact formula for getting tepid water to wash clothes brilliantly in a 20 minute wash!  (The water is always tepid even when you select hot.)  But no, she informs me that the liberal use of Fabuloso (2 different ‘flavours’ too) is because she like the smell.

When I get back to the dinghy dock, I can see Mike with his snorkel under the boat, still scrubbing.  He can’t hear me, or the phone that I ring constantly.  So I stand, in the boiling hot sun, waiting for someone else to come along so that I can hitch a lift.  No one comes.  It’s at times like this that I wish I had been given my dinghy lesson.  Eventually Mike gets out of the water, notices me and comes over immediately, only to be snarled at for making me wait.  It turns out he had nearly poisoned himself on the anti fouling that came off into the water as he scrubbed the hull but he’s still alive so I’m not sympathetic.

On our way out we head over to the fuel dock.  The wind is gusty, threatening to throw us against the concrete blocks and it’s hard to get the lines on but eventually we manage it and fill up.  Kev and Jo pass us on the way and we wave to show them that we have our fishing line out for the first time but they don’t notice, and neither do the fish – we catch nothing, for the first of many times!

We both anchor up and I put the drying out.  The great laundry drying weather proves to be too much for my bath mat, which takes off at high speed from the back of the boat when I am not looking and is never to be seen again.  As we speak, it is probably wrapped around some unsuspecting boat’s propeller!  Jo comes over to pick Mike up so that they can check us and the boats out of the BVIs.  They have a little excitement of their own in the dinghy when Jo underestimates the hold of her new stern anchor.  It pulls the dinghy back as she steps off and she disappears between the dinghy and the dock.  Luckily the water is only thigh high and she walks to the shore.  Mike is gentlemanly enough to take her backpack for her.  I hope he didn’t laugh!

We join Kev and Jo for drinks at Foxy’s, but at $18 a round in Happy Hour, we only stay for 2 rounds.  Although Foxy is said to be in the bar every afternoon, today he is represented by a plastic or waxwork like model, obviously off spending his profits elsewhere.

Photo:  Kev, Jean and Mike arriving at Foxy’s

Photo:  Jo, Jean and Mike savouring their expensive drinks

Cane Garden Bay, Day 6

Another lazy day.  Mike still on the computer.  Me reading.  In the evening we get ready to go out because Sunday night is BBQ night at the Elm.  We head over to Invincible but Kev and Jo are both suffering from the excesses of last night and don’t feel like venturing out.  We decide to borrow a DVD from them (‘Layer Cake’ – just so that I can salivate over Daniel Craig!) and have an early night ourselves.

Cane Garden Bay, Day 5

Mike and Kev get a taxi into Road Town today as Mike has been unable to successfully locate the spares he needs for the broken anchor light by phone and needs to do another round trip of all the chandlers and Kev has chores to do as well.

I wile away the time quite nicely, as only I can do (heaven knows what I actually do) and I am in the middle of making a huge pan of dhal when Mike arrives back, sheepishly announcing that he and Kev ate at Simply Delicious, again, in Road Town.  I eat the dhal!

Later, Jo arrives in the dinghy to take me to get the last of the provisioning for our trip.  Mike’s main concern is that he is running out of ginger beer for his Dark and Stormy cocktails.  I am in serious in dereliction of my wifely duties if I allow this happen, so off we go.

In the evening after dinner, we head over to Invincible to join Kev and Jo for a drink or three, taking with us our computer as we are going to swop boating related stuff.  I think we get more than we give, especially, as Jo hands over some books by an author I have never read before, Anita Shreve.  Getting enough reading material is always a problem.  Many places have ‘book swop’ facilities but you never know what you are going to find, and I always feel guilty about taking a book if I cannot leave one in exchange.  Sorry, Jo, you lost out today!

We had a lovely evening and a late one too – not back on our boat until after 11 when our usual bedtime is around 9.30.

Cane Garden Bay, Day 4

Weatherwise, a bit of a miserable day, so we spend most of it pottering.

Mike has plenty to do on the computer for the World Cruising Club and I, using our wonderful Sling Box at home, manage to catch up with some Eastenders and Coronation Street.  How embarrassing!  Even worse, I have no idea what is going on as it is ages since I watched either programme.  Resolution:  Use Sling Box more often!

Kev and Jo pop over early in the evening to see if we fancy joining them for happy hour at Myetts and Kev hands Mike his newly re-would fishing rod, complete with lucky lure.  Mike now has no excuse for not catching me some dinner!

Over beer and Baileys, we discuss our sailing trip and decide that weather permitting, we will go over to Jost Van Dyke on Monday to check out, and head for the Spanish Virgin Islands on Tuesday.  Having drunk a few beers, Kev and Jo decide to forgo happy hour and head back to their boat instead.

Cane Garden Bay, Day 3

The day dawns with barely a breath of wind and little swell so there is no escape for Mike today.  A couple of hours later though, when Kev arrives, both have picked up a little and Mike is not quite as happy.  However, once he is securely strapped in, and he realises how much sturdier the chair is than ours, he is more confident.  I have every faith (and I’ve checked the insurance policy!)

Kev pulls him up with the electric winch, I take up the slack at the mast and up he goes.  It’s a bit hairy standing underneath, wondering which tool he could accidently drop on my head, but he manages to hold onto everything as he dodges lazy jacks, spreaders and the rest of the obstacles.  The photo really doesn’t do it justice – it’s well over 60’ high and the slightest movement at sea level is magnified enormously in sway at the top.  At one point, a local guy races past in his speedboat, and the wake causes Mike to sway precariously.  Kev and I both shout to him to slow down, which he does immediately and apologises for not having noticed Mike all the way up there.

When Mike finally reaches the top, he realises that he can’t actually see over the top of the light to fix it (there are no footholds to boost him the last foot or so) so he just dismantles the thing blindly and we bring him back down.

Photo:  Mike up the mast – rather him than me!

Amazingly, we hear the sound of hammers on wood and realise that at long last, the dinghy dock is being repaired, something that apparently started yesterday.  I wonder how many dinghies had to perish to get that process started?

Road Town to Cane Garden Bay

Mike and I have provisioning to do today so we head off for Rite Way and Supa Value.  (No I haven’t lost the ability to spell - it seems that shop names are not allowed to be spelt correctly here.)  Supa Value has a fantastic selection of frozen meat, poultry and seafood, all imported from the USA of course and therefore not cheap, but the best value around here.

On the way back to the dinghy, already fully laden, Mike heads off for the chandlers to buy a dinghy anchor for Kev and Jo and I make a detour into Tico, the alcoholic beverage centre and treat myself to a couple of very good bottles of Sauvignon Blanc, half the price that I saw them for at Bobby’s.  In the blistering heat, arms dragged down with bags and clutching one of those stupid American inventions, the brown paper bag (which incidentally is the one with the wine in) to my chest, I stagger to the dinghy.  Never has a walk seemed so long!

We motor back to Cane Garden Bay and are no sooner anchored than Kev and Jo arrive to collect their anchor.  We chat for a while and discuss our plans for the next few weeks.  We decide not to go with them to the Turks and Caicos as the journey back, beating into the wind all the way, sounds like too much of a hard slog and not worth risking damage to the boat for, just before the next charter begins.  Instead,  we decide to go to the Spanish Virgin Islands and Kev and Jo say they will accompany us on their way way north.

Day Trip to Peter Island

When we wake up in the morning, there is one cruise ship already in, and the Aurora is further out in the channel, waiting to come in to dock.  We watch as Aurora is piloted in, disappointed that she is pulling in to the far side of the dock and will be hidden from view, but we wave frantically as she moors up, before she is obscured, just in case. 

Minutes later we see an ambulance arrive, lights flashing at the end of the dock and can’t help but worry!

We pull up the anchor and motor into Inner Harbour and start putting into place a mechanism for getting Mu and Ron on board.  They will not be able to clamber over the sides of Jeannius like we do.  Luckily we still have our gangplank, but the wind blows strongly, pushing the boat away from the dock and the plank continually moves.  Still, I think to myself, they can’t do worse than Johanne, and at least there won’t be a crowd of bemused Israeli sailors filming their every totter.  (I’m sure that somewhere on UTube this film actually exists – Johanne wearing her Jimmy Choos, squealing as she tries to board Jeannius in St Barts – no amount of description can prepare you for how funny it was!)

We wander round to wait at the end of the road, amused by the guy attempting to hire out motor scooters to the cruise ship passengers, average age 70+.  I think many of them are quite flattered to be asked but I don’t think he makes any sales!

It’s lovely to see Mu and Ron and they are especially pleased to see Mike, who they haven’t seen since he was in the UK last September.  Mu manages the gangplank very well; Ron is more cautious but as the alternative is waiting on the dock for us to return, he manages it too.

The sail over to Peter Island is fairly choppy, but Mu loves it (obviously where her son gets it from).  Immediately we are anchored in Deadman’s Bay she is up and heading to her favourite place, one of the seats at the bow.  Ron, being a little less sure-footed, sensibly stays put and drinks his wine!

 Photo:  Mike’s mum, Mu, admiring the beach at Deadman’s Bay, Peter Island

The weather pulls out all the stops today.  After a relatively overcast start, the skies clear to a brilliant blue and the strong breeze makes it comfortable to sit in the shade and chatter over lunch.  There are lots of turtles around today.  All too quickly, it is time to take them back to the Aurora, and the sail back is a little more subdued.

We walk them back to the cruise ship and say our goodbyes then race back to Jeannius, sail her quickly round the corner again and re-anchor next to the cruise dock.  The other cruise ship has left so we have a clear view of Aurora and now know where to look for Mu and Ron.  Within minutes they appear waving from their deck and we watch, waving to them as their ship backs out and heads for their next port of call.

Cane Garden Bay to Road Town

Mike’s parents are due in Road Town tomorrow, arriving on a cruise ship, the P & O Aurora, so we prepare to head over to Road Town to meet them.

We hear a pleasing sound of roaring motor from Invincible and realise that Kev has managed to get his outboard stripped, cleaned and working again, in fact it is better than it was before.  Not only that, but he and Jo have discovered that their puncture repair kit is more than up to the job and by the time we leave for Road Town, they have fixed their dinghy.  Smiling faces all around.

As is usual, the winds are in completely the wrong direction for us so we end up motoring round to Road Town and anchor in our usual spot, just beside the cruise dock where we will have a good view of Aurora as she comes in tomorrow morning.

Cane Garden Bay, Day 2

The day is spent in a lazy fashion.  Lots of reading and sleeping.  Mike and I have almost four weeks off before our chartering begins again with a vengeance and we decide we want to see some other parts of the Virgin Island or even go as far as the Bahamas so we discuss our alternatives.

As it’s Sunday, we arrange to meet Kev and Jo at The Elm for the barbecue and live music.  In addition to the Elmtones providing their usual good standard, they are joined tonight by a guitarist and saxophonist …and Shadow.  Shadow appears at most of the live music venues in Cane Garden Bay, sometimes banging his sticks together (rarely in time with the music) and enjoying himself dancing with the ladies.  This mild mannered Rastafarian, beanpole thin, over 6’ 4” and of indeterminate age, decides that it is my turn to hit the dance floor with him.  Jo, Kev and Mike all find this very amusing, Jo especially, who admitted later to hiding behind her husband.  Shadow is very gentlemanly about the whole thing (after ascertaining that the guy I am with is my husband) and returns me to my table after our dance.  He returns to claim me a couple more times when he can’t find anyone else!

Kev and Jo leave earlier than us, but Jo returns upset a little while later having found their dinghy punctured and sunk under the dinghy dock.  This has been in a bad state of repair for some time and theirs is not the first we have seen like this.  Kev removes the outboard and they load it into our dinghy to get it back to Invincible, then load their dinghy into ours and get that back too.  Kev knows he has his work cut out the next day to fix it all, especially the outboard which has now been in salt water for some time.  What an unpleasant end to a lovely evening.

Cane Garden Bay, Day 1

I awake refreshed from the journey the day before.  I know I moaned for England about Mike buying me the cheapest ticket he could find (in an effort, I suspect, to discourage me from travelling back to the UK again), but with a stopover in New York, it really wasn’t too bad.  You’ll have to think again, Mike!

Kev arrives to help winch Mike up the mast so that he can fix the anchor light but they both decide that it is too windy and there is too much of a swell for Mike to feel comfortable doing this, even though Kev provides him with a bosun’s chair which is far superior to ours so they set about cleaning and repairing winches instead.

All this male activity is too much for me and I decide to head over to Invincible to see if Jo fancies some female company.  The poor girl didn’t object, and eventually, 5 hours later the men arrive to find us still nattering.  Neither of them seem particularly surprised that we are still going strong.

The 4 of us have a few drinks and then we head back to raid the cupboards again. 

New York to Tortola

I awake refreshed and none the worse for wear for watching “The Perfect Storm”.  Back on the courtesy bus and back to Liberty Airport feeling like I never left it.

Amazing, but it’s only a 4-hour flight to St Thomas from New York.  I always forget that America is twice as wide as it is long (roughly anyway).  Just before we land, I start talking to the girl sitting next to me and then the woman sitting next to her.  She tells me that she is going on a sailing holiday with the Moorings out of Tortola and I tell her that I am expecting my husband to pick me up in our boat at West End.  She looks at me in amazement.  “Are you Jean?” she asks.  I gape at her, wide eyed.  Fame at last!!  When I tell her I am she launches into a tale of how she and her friends chartered Jeannius last year and what a great boat she was, and what a great time they’d had.  I still can’t work out how she’d figured I was Jean.  It turns out Mike had written on the TTOL forum that he was picking me up that day and she had read it. 

What a small world.

I shared a taxi with Patti, her husband Craig and their friends, and then the ferry to West End.  They are in party mood and won’t take no for an answer to the question of rum punches, so I give in and join the party.

Photo:  Partying on the ferry to Tortola 

As we pull in to West End, we see Jeannius with Mike waiting patiently in the cockpit for the arrival of my ferry.  Mike was obviously bemused about all the people with me waving madly as we zoomed past.

I am now a resident of the British Virgin Islands (for a year anyway) and so for the first time I am able to get into the resident’s queue for immigration which proves to be quicker but no less chaotic when you get to immigration on the other side.  We wait 20 minutes outside so that Mike can meet his ex-charterers then go off to find the dinghy.  Getting my loaded bag into the dinghy from a floating dock and then onto Jeannius is tricky but we manage it and immediately sail off to meet Kev and Jo for happy hour in Myetts, Cane Garden Bay.

I have only met them once, briefly in Rodney Bay, St Lucia last December but Mike spent quite a lot of time with them and they were really helpful when it came to putting a new propeller on Jeannius.  I recognised Jo’s smiling face immediately I saw her though, and we had a lovely couple of hours with them before going back to the boat and eating leftovers from the last charterers.

Worcester to New York

Victoria and I are woken by a number of alarms although I don’t know why we bother setting them as I neither of us get any sleep.

We are on the road by 4.30am and arrive at Birmingham Airport just after 5.00am.  I am still worrying about the weight of my bag as I have been unable to weigh it easily on the bathroom scales.  I am already checked in on-line and just drop my luggage off at the desk – miraculously it is half a kilo under!  Good job they don’t weigh my hand luggage as I can hardly lift it.

The flight to Amsterdam is quick and uneventful but I am not looking forward to the 5-hour stopover there, even if I do have the relative comfort of one of the private lounges.

In the lounge a nice man from a Houston computer company chats to me to wile away the time but I am still bored witless and am pleased when it is eventually time to board the Continental flight to New York.

I discover that the seat reservation system lies – the single seat that it showed is a double and the other seat is occupied by an elderly Dutchman.  He introduces himself to me as Gerry, shakes my hand and then gives me his life story (some of it quite interesting) but I would like to watch the film, especially as this particular plane is not equipped with the latest dip in, dip out entertainment system, and every time he begins to talk to me, I miss another part of the plot.

I manage to sleep for an hour or so and we land an hour earlier than my schedule says.  My luggage is almost the last piece to be thrown out of the black hole and onto the conveyor.  The immigration official looks me over very suspiciously as I have filled in the visa waiver form and I have a visa (they made us do this in St John so I think I am following procedure) but lets me in.  I check-in my luggage in for the next day’s flight and manage, eventually, to find the courtesy bus for my hotel.  On the bus, I find myself sitting with a planeload’s worth of Continental flight staff who think that I am Australian.  Or South African.

The hotel is close to the airport so the transfer only takes a few minutes.  I’m glad.  Newark is not pretty.  My room is comfortable, the bed is huge with lovely bed linen and after sending a couple of e-mails from the business centre, I settle down to watch “The Perfect Storm”, one of my less than brilliant ideas.  A good, no, excellent film but in view of next year …..

I fall asleep as soon as the film finishes.