On the way north after St Barts, we stopped in St Martin and visited with our friends from Discovery, Day Dreamer and Elin. We had a great dinner aboard Day Dreamer. Lisa and Peter are so easy to spend time with. Calle and Emma on Elin are heading back to Sweden and agreed to sail with us to the British Virgin Islands. John on Discovery hosted us alongside his power cat at the Simpson Bay Shipyard and even shuttled us around town for reprovisioning. What a great host! Tricia and I hope to be able to do the same for other cruisers when we get back to Maryland.
After a quick 2 day visit, we were ready to leave. Unfortunately, the Causeway Bridge decided not to open at noon because of a bike race. By my count, there were 3 bikes. So, because it is what we do as cruisers, we waited and left later. Elin went out the French side (too shallow for us) and started without us.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
St Barts
At the pre-dawn hour of Oh-Dark-Thirty, the crew is up and ready to go. Tricia makes sure the cabin is secure for sea and the coffee is made. Cary and I consider the still conditions and decide to hoist the mainsail at the anchor. Ginny takes the bridle off the anchor chain. Once Cary is below at the chain locker to keep the anchor chain from piling up and fouling, Ginny begins her morning workout of raising the anchor. We use a Simpson-Lawrence SeaTiger 555 Manual Anchor Windlass. It may be slow, but it is reliable, doesn't use any battery power, and saved us 5 boat units. (Remember, BOAT stands for Break Out Another Thousand.) Music quietly slipped away from the anchorage at Jolly Harbor and sailed down a moonbeam into the Caribbean, making way northwest to St Barts.
Wind was moderate all day, and the going was slow. We didn't get to Gustavia, the major harbor in St Barts, until late afternoon. Evidently, during the busy season, you should get here earlier if you want a good anchoring spot. The outer harbor is not very well protected from the swells, and we watched as boats rolled through 30-40 degrees at anchor. Yuck! The best spot I could find in the crowd was over on the north side, on the edge of the channel. OK, Tricia said "in the channel". I figured it was debatable, drew an imaginary line between 2 green markers and decided I was close but not in the channel. It was too late to inflate the dinghy and check in, so we put up the Q flag, went to bed and were rocked to a blissful sleep. Liar! (Hearing the witch from "Princess Bride" in my head.) We didn't get much sleep and were not big St Barts fans in the morning.
At the Captainerie, I was queued up to check in. The captain ahead of me was loudly frustrated and adding tension to the air, which did not improve my demeanor. Then I hear "Music". Not angelic herald trumpets, or even a Hendrix guitar riff, just the Port Captain saying the name of my boat. "I'm "Music"", I reply. "You're in the channel." Grumble, grumble. "Yessir, I'll move as soon as I'm done here." So, after getting through the formalities, buying park and dive passes from the Park Service, and picking up ice, I head back to the boat. Liberal interpretation of "as soon as", but then, I'm not really in the channel anyway. To add to my frustration, a herd of megayachts were anchored at the entrance to the channel. Since they are each 200+ feet long, they form an effective blockade. But, they are just outside the sea buoy, so officially they are not "in the channel". And they pay 100 times what I do in customs fees. I wonder if they are treated differently because of money???
Seeing as we had to move, and we didn't like Gustavia, we motored around the corner to Anse de Columbe. What a difference! We were early and got a mooring ball. The water was calm and crystal clear. There were only 5-6 huge megayachts blocking out the sun. Much better.
Cary, Tricia and I headed in the dinghy to dive the wall at the entrance to the harbor. Note to cartographer, the cut between the point and the island you marked as navigable for dinghies is not. I have chips in my prop to prove it. We picked up a dive site mooring ball, and dropped over the side. The visibility was incredible. It had to be 100 feet, and a beautiful pale blue. There were hundreds of fish of all shapes and sizes, and the colors just made your eyes pop. Iridescent blues, glowing yellows. Really cool! We swam up and down several different rock formations, bouncing from 20-70 feet. I was able to show Cary a spotted Moray Eel. At a big sugarloaf rock, Big Bill Barracuda hovered overhead protecting his turf, alway just in your peripheral vision. I try to ignore him. As we finish up our tanks, we surface near the dinghy and climb back in. Overall, a great dive!
Back on "Music", Tricia made another fantastic meal. Maybe we are not giving St Barts enough credit. We regret that we are now on a timetable and don't have more time to spend in each of these new places we find. Alas! Tired from the day, we relaxed, read books, and other quiet repasts and fell asleep. Really, sleep, as in 6 hours without waking up, restful sleep. We each awoke in a much better mood. Although we would like to stay, we have to keep moving north. Wanting to catch the 0930 Simpson Bay (Dutch side) bridge opening, we slip the mooring and get underway immediately. It is a short hop to St Martin. As we pass Ile de Forchue, a small island between St Barts and St Martin, we duck into the cove to check it out. It looks like another great dive site, and a sheltered anchorage in most weather. It is always nicer to enter a harbor the second time, with a little familiarity to calm your concerns.
Wind was moderate all day, and the going was slow. We didn't get to Gustavia, the major harbor in St Barts, until late afternoon. Evidently, during the busy season, you should get here earlier if you want a good anchoring spot. The outer harbor is not very well protected from the swells, and we watched as boats rolled through 30-40 degrees at anchor. Yuck! The best spot I could find in the crowd was over on the north side, on the edge of the channel. OK, Tricia said "in the channel". I figured it was debatable, drew an imaginary line between 2 green markers and decided I was close but not in the channel. It was too late to inflate the dinghy and check in, so we put up the Q flag, went to bed and were rocked to a blissful sleep. Liar! (Hearing the witch from "Princess Bride" in my head.) We didn't get much sleep and were not big St Barts fans in the morning.
At the Captainerie, I was queued up to check in. The captain ahead of me was loudly frustrated and adding tension to the air, which did not improve my demeanor. Then I hear "Music". Not angelic herald trumpets, or even a Hendrix guitar riff, just the Port Captain saying the name of my boat. "I'm "Music"", I reply. "You're in the channel." Grumble, grumble. "Yessir, I'll move as soon as I'm done here." So, after getting through the formalities, buying park and dive passes from the Park Service, and picking up ice, I head back to the boat. Liberal interpretation of "as soon as", but then, I'm not really in the channel anyway. To add to my frustration, a herd of megayachts were anchored at the entrance to the channel. Since they are each 200+ feet long, they form an effective blockade. But, they are just outside the sea buoy, so officially they are not "in the channel". And they pay 100 times what I do in customs fees. I wonder if they are treated differently because of money???
Seeing as we had to move, and we didn't like Gustavia, we motored around the corner to Anse de Columbe. What a difference! We were early and got a mooring ball. The water was calm and crystal clear. There were only 5-6 huge megayachts blocking out the sun. Much better.
Cary, Tricia and I headed in the dinghy to dive the wall at the entrance to the harbor. Note to cartographer, the cut between the point and the island you marked as navigable for dinghies is not. I have chips in my prop to prove it. We picked up a dive site mooring ball, and dropped over the side. The visibility was incredible. It had to be 100 feet, and a beautiful pale blue. There were hundreds of fish of all shapes and sizes, and the colors just made your eyes pop. Iridescent blues, glowing yellows. Really cool! We swam up and down several different rock formations, bouncing from 20-70 feet. I was able to show Cary a spotted Moray Eel. At a big sugarloaf rock, Big Bill Barracuda hovered overhead protecting his turf, alway just in your peripheral vision. I try to ignore him. As we finish up our tanks, we surface near the dinghy and climb back in. Overall, a great dive!
Back on "Music", Tricia made another fantastic meal. Maybe we are not giving St Barts enough credit. We regret that we are now on a timetable and don't have more time to spend in each of these new places we find. Alas! Tired from the day, we relaxed, read books, and other quiet repasts and fell asleep. Really, sleep, as in 6 hours without waking up, restful sleep. We each awoke in a much better mood. Although we would like to stay, we have to keep moving north. Wanting to catch the 0930 Simpson Bay (Dutch side) bridge opening, we slip the mooring and get underway immediately. It is a short hop to St Martin. As we pass Ile de Forchue, a small island between St Barts and St Martin, we duck into the cove to check it out. It looks like another great dive site, and a sheltered anchorage in most weather. It is always nicer to enter a harbor the second time, with a little familiarity to calm your concerns.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Battle of the Saints
As a reader of C.S. Forrester, Patrick O'Brian and books of that swashbuckling sort, I had read often about a major sea battle between the French and British at "The Saints". I never really knew where that was. In preparing for the visit to Guadeloupe, I learned that the Battle of the Saints was fought at the end of the American Revolution between the French under Villeneuve and Comte de Grasse and the British under Rodney in the straits between Dominica and Iles de Saintes, Guadeloupe. Very cool!
Our trip from Portsmouth Harbor to Iles de Saintes was beautiful. With the dinghy safely stowed on deck, we set out in a light breeze that was forecast to build later in the day. Tricia broke out her fishing pole and the purple lure Cary and Ginny bought her for her birthday. It wasn't in the water long before we heard the cry "Fish On!" In short order, a diminutive blue fin tuna was gaffed, gutted and in the freezer. Enough for an appetizer, but we needed to find his big brother. Roaring along at 8+ knots in a mild squall, Tricia was thinking we were going too fast to catch anything. Then I saw some birds diving ahead of us and steered for them. In seconds, Tricia had a powerful hit! But I will let her tell you about catching "the big one".
Ha, so on board Music we have a plastic rod holder attached to our stern railing. Our one big Penn reel and rod sit in that holder until we hook a fish. I honestly thought that the rod holder would break, or the rod would break, or the line would break, not in that order. Getting the rod out of the holder requires talent, even with a small fish, and this wasn't a small fish. I have to stand on the aft seats which are angled, unhook the latch on the holder, and slide the rod out without dropping the rod, hitting the bimini, or falling overboard. Try this with the rod bent in half, and 6-7' following, rolly seas. So the rod and reel actually belong to my Dad, and all I could worry about was holding on for dear life so that I didn't lose $1000 worth of someone else's equipment. Once I was sure that the sucker was hooked, all I could do was fight it, in bare hands, on a rolly sea, under the bimini, with no room to pump, no fighting chair or fighting harness. I grew up learning how to fish the big salt water fish. These were not ideal conditions, but being the stubborn person that I am, I refused to let anyone else help. I wasn't going to risk losing that rod. And what the hell kind of fish was this anyway? I called out to have someone check the time - no one did. They didn't get it. Fish like this can be fought for hours! I fought it for at least 20 minutes, which at the time seemed like hours. It was long enough for me to to be out of breath, sore, shakey, and have blisters worn and popped on my right hand by the time I was done. Yes, gloves would have been helpful. Duh.
I have to give my family credit though, they have gotten good at the process of slowing the boat down so that I can fight a fish. Their execution was perfect, up to the point where the fish got close and made a run for underneath the boat. Had I been smart, I would have called for them to speed up. In the end, we were lucky and didn't lose the fish. We got it to the boat, and Mat made a perfect gaff, as he hung half-way off the stern ladder to pull aboard my 25# blue fin tuna. It sure felt like 200#. Well, it's been a long time since I fought any big fish, and this one was all muscle. That night we made sushi for the first time, with lots of fish left in the freezer for many meals to come.
Now if I only I can get the elusive wahoo, I'll be a happy camper! I think we have to do something like 10-14 knots to catch those crazy suckers. Mat would love it if we were going that fast! You may be wondering why we don't try fishing more often? Well, in some countries it's not allowed without a permit, but mostly we don't fish anywhere around the reefs to avoid catching reef fish that could be carrying Ciguatera bacteria that could make us very sick. We actually did catch some barracuda leaving St. Kitts, but those are one of the fish that tends to carry Ciguatera, so back over they went, and after reeling in two of them, the line came in for the day. Whenever we are doing passages the line goes out, but we aren't always lucky. But for me, it's entertainment.
Mat: After cleaning up and getting sailing again, we got the boat dialed in and, I am proud to say, caught the boat who had been ahead of us when we stopped to fish. Real fun sailing. And the entry into the Saintes was gorgeous. You pass between a point and a small island with surf crashing on the rocks. As you round up to lower the sails behind the next point, you see the welcoming harbor stretched out in front of you with tall hills on three sides, and another island to the rear. Very protected. In more ways than one, as you notice the forts on the top of each hill with embrasures that once held cannons with interlocking fields of fire. Maybe this wouldn't be so welcoming if you were an enemy ship?
Our trip from Portsmouth Harbor to Iles de Saintes was beautiful. With the dinghy safely stowed on deck, we set out in a light breeze that was forecast to build later in the day. Tricia broke out her fishing pole and the purple lure Cary and Ginny bought her for her birthday. It wasn't in the water long before we heard the cry "Fish On!" In short order, a diminutive blue fin tuna was gaffed, gutted and in the freezer. Enough for an appetizer, but we needed to find his big brother. Roaring along at 8+ knots in a mild squall, Tricia was thinking we were going too fast to catch anything. Then I saw some birds diving ahead of us and steered for them. In seconds, Tricia had a powerful hit! But I will let her tell you about catching "the big one".
Ha, so on board Music we have a plastic rod holder attached to our stern railing. Our one big Penn reel and rod sit in that holder until we hook a fish. I honestly thought that the rod holder would break, or the rod would break, or the line would break, not in that order. Getting the rod out of the holder requires talent, even with a small fish, and this wasn't a small fish. I have to stand on the aft seats which are angled, unhook the latch on the holder, and slide the rod out without dropping the rod, hitting the bimini, or falling overboard. Try this with the rod bent in half, and 6-7' following, rolly seas. So the rod and reel actually belong to my Dad, and all I could worry about was holding on for dear life so that I didn't lose $1000 worth of someone else's equipment. Once I was sure that the sucker was hooked, all I could do was fight it, in bare hands, on a rolly sea, under the bimini, with no room to pump, no fighting chair or fighting harness. I grew up learning how to fish the big salt water fish. These were not ideal conditions, but being the stubborn person that I am, I refused to let anyone else help. I wasn't going to risk losing that rod. And what the hell kind of fish was this anyway? I called out to have someone check the time - no one did. They didn't get it. Fish like this can be fought for hours! I fought it for at least 20 minutes, which at the time seemed like hours. It was long enough for me to to be out of breath, sore, shakey, and have blisters worn and popped on my right hand by the time I was done. Yes, gloves would have been helpful. Duh.
I have to give my family credit though, they have gotten good at the process of slowing the boat down so that I can fight a fish. Their execution was perfect, up to the point where the fish got close and made a run for underneath the boat. Had I been smart, I would have called for them to speed up. In the end, we were lucky and didn't lose the fish. We got it to the boat, and Mat made a perfect gaff, as he hung half-way off the stern ladder to pull aboard my 25# blue fin tuna. It sure felt like 200#. Well, it's been a long time since I fought any big fish, and this one was all muscle. That night we made sushi for the first time, with lots of fish left in the freezer for many meals to come.
Now if I only I can get the elusive wahoo, I'll be a happy camper! I think we have to do something like 10-14 knots to catch those crazy suckers. Mat would love it if we were going that fast! You may be wondering why we don't try fishing more often? Well, in some countries it's not allowed without a permit, but mostly we don't fish anywhere around the reefs to avoid catching reef fish that could be carrying Ciguatera bacteria that could make us very sick. We actually did catch some barracuda leaving St. Kitts, but those are one of the fish that tends to carry Ciguatera, so back over they went, and after reeling in two of them, the line came in for the day. Whenever we are doing passages the line goes out, but we aren't always lucky. But for me, it's entertainment.
Mat: After cleaning up and getting sailing again, we got the boat dialed in and, I am proud to say, caught the boat who had been ahead of us when we stopped to fish. Real fun sailing. And the entry into the Saintes was gorgeous. You pass between a point and a small island with surf crashing on the rocks. As you round up to lower the sails behind the next point, you see the welcoming harbor stretched out in front of you with tall hills on three sides, and another island to the rear. Very protected. In more ways than one, as you notice the forts on the top of each hill with embrasures that once held cannons with interlocking fields of fire. Maybe this wouldn't be so welcoming if you were an enemy ship?
At Home With Ruby
Ruby is our oldest dog, and the one we worried about leaving the most. She was a rescue, a Vizsla, that Queen Anne's County Animal Control found outside of Food Lion on Kent Island 6 years ago. I went to collect her when they called me thinking I would place her in rescue, and they would find her a nice home. I took my first look at her, and knew that she would be coming home with me, and never leaving. Her face was gray, and she was as big as a house, not in a good way. Try placing an old, fat dog of any breed. It's not that easy. She had malformations of one back foot, and when we x-rayed her, one hip had been busted and healed improperly. She limped. A sad case. Add to her maladies, a constant battle with what we later learned were food and inhalant allergies, and she becomes a dog only a veterinarian would take home.
Ruby knew her name. We didn't name her. The day I broke her out of Animal Control prison, I took her to my office. I was doing surgery that afternoon, and we weren't too busy, so Ruby sat in an open cage while I did my work. Once all work was done, my technicians and I started calling out names. We went through at least a hundred common names. Ruby didn't budge. She sat looking at us in an open cage. Then I went through common Vizsla and red dog names. She didn't budge. As almost an afterthought, I asked her, 'Is your name Ruby?', and she bolted out of the cage as fast as she could across the room and into my lap, tail wagging, and whining the happiest sound I had ever heard. Her name was Ruby. We knew she was at least 7-8 years old, she had a long list of medical problems, and her name was Ruby.
So why, when we learned she had a form of pancreatic cancer called an Insulinoma, would I even consider making every effort to prolong her life? It boiled down to two things. First, I'm a vet, and sometimes it's hard for us to not make every conceivable effort and go the extra mile for our pets. We have to try. It's just part of our nature. We know there are things that can be done, we assess the risk, we accept the risk, and we try to make them better. Period. The second reason, was that Ruby is one of the best dogs we have ever had. I felt it was only right to give her a chance. One month to live without surgery, or maybe a year with surgery. So I flew home to take care of her.
Surgery went well, considering that the mass was in a bad position in the middle of her pancreas, and probably wasn't benign. She actually recovered well from the anesthesia ( a risk for her because, oh yeah, she also has a heart arrhythmia). But the days that followed were not so promising. Her recovery slipped, and her biopsies came back as malignant. Her behaviors supported a suspicion that the cancer had spread to her brain. Her deterioration was painful to watch, and on day three of recovery, I had her euthanized, the only final gift that I could give her, peace.
If anyone were to ask me what was the hardest part of leaving life on land for a life as a cruiser, I would easily answer giving up my animals, and leaving family and friends. Ruby was part of our family for almost 6 years, and she was loved. We knew when we left, that we risked returning to land life only to find some of those family and friends might no longer be with us. We will miss Ruby greatly. She brought us great joy, and in return she had a happy, comfortable life with us for her final years.
Thank you's: to my parents, sister and her family, who have taken care of our dogs while we have been gone. To Mat's sister, Beth, who has our cat. To Betty, a friend who has our bird. To the nice families that adopted our horses. To my friends and family who supported me during this ordeal, you know who you are. To Dr. Busick, for handling things from afar. To Ruby's specialists at CVRC, Dr. Paola and Dr. Minihan, who did everything they could for Ruby, and who understood not only her pain, but mine as well. I can never thank you enough. And To QACAC - thank you for giving me Ruby, without whom our journey together would not have taken place. And to Mat, Cary, and Ginny, who let me go home to take care of her.
For Ruby:
" She seemed grateful that I took care of her, and I was grateful for what she continued to teach me about slowing down, living in the moment, and not giving up in the struggle to learn a different way." Amy Herdy
We will always love you, Ruby.
Antigua- Deep Bay and Jolly Harbor
From Falmouth we daysailed to Deep Bay to dive a wreck there. On the way, we passed just outside a reef on the south coast. As we were sailing, I saw a whale spout off in the distance between us and the reef. Cary, Ginny and Tricia scrambled to get a look while I got the camera. There were 2 whales, which looked to be of a good size. Based on the forward angle of the spout and the small dorsal fin, I think they were sperm whales. They are supposedly common here this time of year. The really cool thing is one of them was TOTALLY WHITE! I saw Moby Dick! I claim the gold doubloon that Ahab nailed to the mast. Unfortunately, they were gone before we got any pictures. But I have witnesses! (Tricia) - And while poor Mat was flying to get the camera, the rest of us got the one and only fluke wave goodbye!
Deep Bay was a beautiful round anchorage. We pulled right up to the beach, anchoring 30 yards offshore in 15 feet of water. About 100 yards behind us is a large wreck in 20-30 feet. Ginny, Cary and I dove. Unfortunately, the visibility was very poor, less than 5 feet at the base of the wreck. So we bailed out and had lunch. I did manage to replace the propeller zinc while I had the tank out. Good for G & C to dive with poor visibility, as they've never had that experience before. All good learning!
After lunch, we had a lovely sail to Jolly Harbor where we anchored outside. I took the dinghy in and cleared out of Antigua since we planned to leave in the morning. Very convenient location for Customs in the yellow building up the channel as you enter the harbor. Plenty of space for the dinghy, and everything right there at the dock.
We did end up coming into the harbor with Music, as we ran our starboard water tank dry and couldn't get suction on the port tank. The marina was nice enough to let us top up the starboard tank, for a price, even though it was after hours. We were grateful that water was available (they've been restricting water to cruisers due to a draught), and that they let us take up their valuable time off. Once at the dock the port tank was working fine and was completely full. Go figure. After getting over the panic of having little water left for a passage, we left the dock to anchor back out in the harbor, got a good night's sleep, and were off to St. Barts by 4 AM.
Deep Bay was a beautiful round anchorage. We pulled right up to the beach, anchoring 30 yards offshore in 15 feet of water. About 100 yards behind us is a large wreck in 20-30 feet. Ginny, Cary and I dove. Unfortunately, the visibility was very poor, less than 5 feet at the base of the wreck. So we bailed out and had lunch. I did manage to replace the propeller zinc while I had the tank out. Good for G & C to dive with poor visibility, as they've never had that experience before. All good learning!
After lunch, we had a lovely sail to Jolly Harbor where we anchored outside. I took the dinghy in and cleared out of Antigua since we planned to leave in the morning. Very convenient location for Customs in the yellow building up the channel as you enter the harbor. Plenty of space for the dinghy, and everything right there at the dock.
We did end up coming into the harbor with Music, as we ran our starboard water tank dry and couldn't get suction on the port tank. The marina was nice enough to let us top up the starboard tank, for a price, even though it was after hours. We were grateful that water was available (they've been restricting water to cruisers due to a draught), and that they let us take up their valuable time off. Once at the dock the port tank was working fine and was completely full. Go figure. After getting over the panic of having little water left for a passage, we left the dock to anchor back out in the harbor, got a good night's sleep, and were off to St. Barts by 4 AM.
Antigua- Falmouth Harbor
From Guadeloupe, we headed north to Antigua. So nice to be sailing off the wind. I didn't make a log entry, and it was almost a month ago. Frankly, it must have been a good sail, because I don't remember it. We anchored in Falmouth Harbor, under the shadow of HUGE and EXPENSIVE MEGAYACHTS, both sail and power. A 200 ft modern green schooner was actually loading a two man submarine into its hold! (We later saw her and her professional crew of 20 take her out for a sail- IMPRESSIVE.)
Despite the megayachts, Falmouth and Antigua are nice. Everyone of Music's crew commented at one point or another how they "liked Antigua". When questioned why, comments like "comfortable" and "safe" were common. I believe it has a lot to do with the language. This is the first port we've been in for 3 months where English is the primary language and we can even understand the islanders' patois. I really enjoyed the walk over to English Harbor to clear in. I was able to tour Nelson's Dockyard, and put a clearer picture in my mind of the setting of the Hornblower and Patrick O'Brian novels I love.
We found "Overbudget" in harbor, and had sundowners with Ginny and JW to catch up on happenings since St Martin. "Spirited Lady" with Suzie and Jeff, in Antigua for the Classic Yacht Regatta in April, joined us and made new friends.
The next morning Ginny and Cary went for a run in town, while adults scoped out a breakfast spot. Once the girls joined us, we walked back to Nelson's Dockyard, and enjoyed breakfast looking out over the very small English Harbor. Food was good, but SLOW.
The next day, we tried to dive Sunken Rock east of English Harbor. There is no buoy, so the dive shop told us to anchor our dinghy. We got a ways out of the harbor, but decided to turn back. Even if we could have made it with the waves, it wasn't going to be a comfortable dive experience. We snorkeled the reef at the entrance to Falmouth Harbor instead, and found a nest of large lobsters. Not knowing the local regs, we left them where they were. Too bad. We later learned we could take 2 per diver. After perusing the dive options in Antigua, we decided that there was probably only one dive site we could go to without a guide, so off we went headed to Deep Bay at the northwest corner of the island.
Despite the megayachts, Falmouth and Antigua are nice. Everyone of Music's crew commented at one point or another how they "liked Antigua". When questioned why, comments like "comfortable" and "safe" were common. I believe it has a lot to do with the language. This is the first port we've been in for 3 months where English is the primary language and we can even understand the islanders' patois. I really enjoyed the walk over to English Harbor to clear in. I was able to tour Nelson's Dockyard, and put a clearer picture in my mind of the setting of the Hornblower and Patrick O'Brian novels I love.
We found "Overbudget" in harbor, and had sundowners with Ginny and JW to catch up on happenings since St Martin. "Spirited Lady" with Suzie and Jeff, in Antigua for the Classic Yacht Regatta in April, joined us and made new friends.
The next morning Ginny and Cary went for a run in town, while adults scoped out a breakfast spot. Once the girls joined us, we walked back to Nelson's Dockyard, and enjoyed breakfast looking out over the very small English Harbor. Food was good, but SLOW.
The next day, we tried to dive Sunken Rock east of English Harbor. There is no buoy, so the dive shop told us to anchor our dinghy. We got a ways out of the harbor, but decided to turn back. Even if we could have made it with the waves, it wasn't going to be a comfortable dive experience. We snorkeled the reef at the entrance to Falmouth Harbor instead, and found a nest of large lobsters. Not knowing the local regs, we left them where they were. Too bad. We later learned we could take 2 per diver. After perusing the dive options in Antigua, we decided that there was probably only one dive site we could go to without a guide, so off we went headed to Deep Bay at the northwest corner of the island.
Deshaies, Guadeloupe
Day-Ay is another beautiful French anchorage, similar to St Pierre in Martinique. Colorful, small colonial buildings line the waterfront with restaurants, bars, art galleries, and shops. Of course, there are vegetable and fruit stands, and wonderful French bakeries. The dive shop is right at the dinghy dock. They not only refill tanks fairly inexpensively, but they gave us all the water we wanted for FREE! A true luxury, even if I did have to haul it back to the boat in 50 lb jugs. We have had to pay for water everywhere else.
The anchorage was a little crowded when we arrived. Music was anchored on the south side of the harbor, close the the cliffs on the a lee shore. I didn't sleep too well the first night (I never do), even though the winds were moderate, the anchor held well, and we didn't swing into the neighbors. The next day, while I was in sorting out the dive tanks, I noticed the girls launching a kayak. Good, they would finally get used. When I got back to the boat, I found out why. Turns out a French boat had backed into our side, taking 2-3 quarter-sized chunks out of the new paint. He handed them 100 Euro, an email address, and a promise to pay more later if needed. Rrrrgh. The good news is we made new friends. The yacht behind us, "Spirited Lady of Fowey", captained by Suzy with Jeff as crew, came by to help. Turns out Suzy has 2 dogs and a cat aboard, and one of the dogs needed Tricia's medical help. Suzy has been cruising the Caribbean for years and has a wealth of info and great stories. Jeff is on break after college, and helped Ginny with her Gov homework. Through Suzy we also met Roger on "Warrior for Life" and Knoll and Bobby, an Aussie couple who have done deliveries in the Caribbean and across the Pacific and Indian Oceans. We had a nice evening on Spirited Lady telling tales.
The ladies had another nice dive out on the reef wall at the northern point of the harbor. My knee is mending, but not quite ready for diving. Tricia and I decided not to walk out to the Botanical Garden and see the Flamingos. We should have gone. Alas.
The next night, Andrew and Claire from "Eye Candy" dropped anchor. Time for another party. Eye Candy, Spirited Lady, and Warrior for Life were invited. This time, we hosted on Music. Tricia whipped up homemade pizza which was a huge hit. Cary and Ginny played a selection of songs on the trumpet and clarinet. Then we proceeded to sing any song we could think of until late at night. We now realize how limited our repertoire really is. Time to practice those lyrics!
The anchorage was a little crowded when we arrived. Music was anchored on the south side of the harbor, close the the cliffs on the a lee shore. I didn't sleep too well the first night (I never do), even though the winds were moderate, the anchor held well, and we didn't swing into the neighbors. The next day, while I was in sorting out the dive tanks, I noticed the girls launching a kayak. Good, they would finally get used. When I got back to the boat, I found out why. Turns out a French boat had backed into our side, taking 2-3 quarter-sized chunks out of the new paint. He handed them 100 Euro, an email address, and a promise to pay more later if needed. Rrrrgh. The good news is we made new friends. The yacht behind us, "Spirited Lady of Fowey", captained by Suzy with Jeff as crew, came by to help. Turns out Suzy has 2 dogs and a cat aboard, and one of the dogs needed Tricia's medical help. Suzy has been cruising the Caribbean for years and has a wealth of info and great stories. Jeff is on break after college, and helped Ginny with her Gov homework. Through Suzy we also met Roger on "Warrior for Life" and Knoll and Bobby, an Aussie couple who have done deliveries in the Caribbean and across the Pacific and Indian Oceans. We had a nice evening on Spirited Lady telling tales.
The ladies had another nice dive out on the reef wall at the northern point of the harbor. My knee is mending, but not quite ready for diving. Tricia and I decided not to walk out to the Botanical Garden and see the Flamingos. We should have gone. Alas.
The next night, Andrew and Claire from "Eye Candy" dropped anchor. Time for another party. Eye Candy, Spirited Lady, and Warrior for Life were invited. This time, we hosted on Music. Tricia whipped up homemade pizza which was a huge hit. Cary and Ginny played a selection of songs on the trumpet and clarinet. Then we proceeded to sing any song we could think of until late at night. We now realize how limited our repertoire really is. Time to practice those lyrics!
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