January 26, 2008

(more photos at the end of the journal entry)
My last update went out in mid December. We were in Rodney Bay on St Lucia and had lost our dinghy in the crossing between St Vincent and St Lucia. It's now January. Christmas has come and gone. It is a new year and we are sailing again!
Right now we are on a mooring just off of Charlestown on the island of Nevis. But before I share what we're up to today, let me catch you up on what we've been doing the last month.


On December 31st it was time to say good by to Theresa. It had been a fun week and we enjoyed her visit. I dropped Theresa off at the Castries airport for her return home. Then Ken and I headed back to Rodney bay expecting to pick up our new dinghy on January 2nd or 3rd. Not to be. We spent another two weeks in Rodney Bay waiting for our Avon 310 RIB to arrive. It is a long story that Ken has already written up. You can read all about it in his January 16th journal entry, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly."

Rodney Bay was not such a bad place to be stuck. It's just that we were anxious to begin sailing again as it took us so long to get work done in Trinidad and to start the season. Spending another month waiting wasn't what we wanted to be doing. Having gotten that off my chest, there were benefits to being in Rodney Bay. Sparkle laundry came by the boat, picked up our laundry and returned it to the boat washed, folded and ready to put away. Of course there was a price, but not much more than I was paying in Trinidad to launder clothes myself and I usually ended up with an extra towel or two that wasn't ours. However after a quick VHF call, Sparkle always came by to pick up the extra towels. Not sure if the misplaced towels ever got back to their owners. But that's the islands. Access to services was nice. Our printer died and we were able to replace it easily in Castries, the large town close by. Island Water World, the chandlery, was located in the marina and there was a hardware store across the street. There was even a pizza restaurant we could dinghy up to and get pizza to go. This pizza joint was the equivalent to a fast food restaurant with a playground. Only this playground had equipment for kids of all ages--two trampolines, swings, monkey bars, a hand push merry-go-round and a blow up jumping room. The equipment was situated on dirt and was not made of bright plastic, as it would be in the states. The playground was not as tidy or as safe as it would be at home, but it sure looked like all those children were having fun.

The dinghy finally arrived. We set sail for Martinique where we anchored in the bay at St Pierre for the night before moving on to Roseau Bay on Dominica. We had been in these anchorages last season in June when they were almost empty, maybe three other boats were anchored with us. But not now, it is high season in the Caribbean and the anchorages are full. Looking for a spot to anchor is like looking for a parking space in San Francisco. And anchoring with an audience is not fun as dropping the anchor isn't always a smooth process. And, Ken does not enjoy being watched, especially when Aurora has not settled where we wanted, too close to another boat. Up comes the anchor for another try. If the wind is up anchoring can be even more challenging as Aurora, like any boat, can easily be blown into another vessel. All in all one breathes easier when the anchor is set and the anchorage goes about watching someone or something else.

Of course there are other things to check out in a crowded anchorage besides the newcomer dropping anchor. The lady on the small sail boat next to us in Iles des Saints not only took her shower in full view of all of us but she must have been going out for the evening as she completed a full personal grooming routine. Ken enjoyed it. "I think she's shaving her legs, Maryann. What's she doing now? She's up on the bow. Oh she has the sun shower up and is rinsing her hair. Now she's shaving her pits!" No privacy at all in the anchorages! I wont' give you Ken's comments on the six folks right next to us in Deshaies who were all skinny dipping and showering in full sight of us. Before you begin to think this is exciting, remember most of these folks are past their prime and could loose a few pounds. But it makes for an interesting evening in the cockpit, kind of like sitting on the front porch in a small town. I hold the line at observing with binoculars, but not everyone on Aurora does.

No privacy in the anchorage extends to no privacy on the VHF radio, which I've learned is called the weHF. I've mentioned this in previous updates, but now that we have gotten to know other cruisers it is more interesting. Channel 16, the hailing channel, is used to call other boats. We always have our VHF set to 16 when we are sailing and most times when we are at anchor or in a marina. After hailing a boat on channel 16, one selects a different channel for the conversation or "traffic." Because everyone can hear the hailing channel and the selected channel for talking, one can just tune in an listen. I forget that I'm not alone on the line when I'm calling another boat. And Ken and I listen in when boats we know are talking to hear where they are and what they are up to. People stay in contact up and down the islands. And to make sure you know where everyone is there is a "coconut telegraph" on the SSB at 8:00 each morning. The purpose is for cruisers to keep in touch. Basically anyone who wants to let folks know where they are can call in and announce their location, "Ken and Maryann on Aurora in Charlestown, Nevis." If you want to contact someone you can also set that up on the telegraph.

From Martinique we sailed on to Dominica and picked up a mooring at Fort Young in Roseau. Dominica has a national marine park which we took advantage of with two SCUBA dives. It had been some time since we last dove, last May in the Virgins, and I really enjoyed myself. The dives were two of the nicest we've done--lavender, orange and chocolate colored coral; colorful reef fish and clear water. I thought if I were a decorator I'd use this color scheme in a house. The colors were just so inviting. We even saw two sea horses! And on the second dive we experienced underwater volcanic springs with hot water and gas bubbling up through the ocean floor. The dive, called Champagne, was lovely as if one were swimming through a glass of champagne with the little bubbles floating up all around.

Guadeloupe's Iles des Saintes warranted another visit this season. These small islands ooze with French charm. We enjoyed 4 days at anchor off The Saints before sailing on to Pigeon Island the home of the Cousteau National Park. Unlike Dominica, Guadeloupe allows individuals to dive independently. Ken and I did our first independent SCUBA dive off of Pigeon Island. We picked up a mooring, donned our SCUBA gear and went for a 50-minute dive on our own. Nice to be able to just dive off the swim step. It was not as spectacular a dive as the two on
Dominica, but we did see large schools of fish, lots of corals and a huge crab.

After our dive we motored up Guadeloupe's coast 8 miles to Deshaies, another small village visited on our trek south last season. I'm finding that I like our second season better. Last year everything was so new. Too new. It was a bit overwhelming. This year we know the anchorages and where to dock the dinghy and what to expect. And the visits are different. Last season Deshaies was extremely hot and humid, and we spent our time visiting the botanical garden. This year the weather was mild and I spent an entire afternoon wandering around town taking pictures. But we did have croissants at the same patisserie. So yummy.

We left Deshaies in the wee hours of the morning, 4 a.m., for the 75 mile sail to Nevis. In early June we had stopped at St Kitts, which is the other Island in the country of St Kitts and Nevis. So this time we decided to check out Nevis. And that is where I'm writing this update from. Our first night here we dinghyed over to the beach, pulled our new dinghy up on to the sand and walked to the Sunshine beach bar where we watched the sun set and drank Killer Bee rum punch. Very much the island experience. The next day we walked around town and out to the ruins of Fort Charles, another British fort on the islands.

We'll be having dinner this evening at an old sugar plantation house, Montpelier Plantation Inn. I'm looking forward to it. Ken will have to wear long pants and covered shoes. No shorts and sandals tonight. As for me, I get to wear a dress!

So that's where we've been for the past month. But it doesn't tell you much about what the second season on a boat is like. For me living on the boat is more familiar and thus more comfortable. I know Aurora--all of her storage places, all of the systems, what all the breakers are for in the nav station, how to keep her clean, and what all the different sounds are. "Oh, that's the bilge pump" or "the reefer just kicked in" or "the anchor chain is rubbing against a rock." It's akin to getting to know a new house. As I had not spent my adult life on or around boats, understanding what a boat was all about and getting to know our specific boat was a steep learning curve. This season I'm learning more about sailing. Yes, we can put up the sails, reef them and furl them, but there is much more to the art of sailing than letting out the jib. Maybe by the end of this season, I'll be as comfortable adjusting the traveler and the fairleads for proper sail trim as I am turning on the generator to use the 110v outlets. There is much more to learn and it will come with time and experience.

As for living on the boat with Ken, that too is less of a learning curve. It is a small space and there is no getting away from each other. Still, we've learned when to give the other person space and how to do so. When I ask other cruisers how this "living on a boat" is for them. The women, at least, have similar experiences. They miss the company of women. The need for women to talk with other women seems universal. I enjoyed Theresa's visit as we sat up late talking. So nice to visit with my daughter, to catch up and to just talk. As for Ken, I hear the "we've already talked about that" statement regularly. Seems women don't mind having the same conversation more than once. Talk is not a means to an end, for many of us females, it is an end in itself. Just one of the many differences between the sexes and one Ken and I dance around in our 46 feet of space.

This life is not for everyone and not for every woman. I've met a lot of men who, when they find out what Ken and I are doing, say they would love to live the cruising life, but their wives would never consider it. I'm not sure if these men are wishful thinking or if they really would cruise if their wives agreed. But it seems to be, for the most part, a man's dream. Still some men go ahead and sail leaving their wives at home. We met such a man last week. His wife comes to visit, but only if the boat is docked at a marina and not moving. She doesn't like to sail. They talk every day via phone, and he returns home periodically. Still, he's sailing with a crew member he only recently met in Annapolis. It's sad when one partner's passion is not shared by the other. However, they found a compromise that works for them. And then there are the women who are the sailors and the men who join them. Not many, but we've met a few.

The pace of life on a boat is slow. Some of it is due to the pace of island life and some just because there is no schedule or a plan and no external forces driving one to get things done. Half the time I don't know what day of the week it is. It is one of the pleasures of this life. No hurry. It does take us type-A personalities time to adjust and just let it go. Ken is forever reminding me we don't need a plan and we don't have to get things done right now. On the flip side of that is the never-ending boat work. It does eventually need to be addressed, but for the most part there is no urgency to get it done. It is 11:00 am and I'm sitting here writing when I was planning to clean the interior of the boat this morning. Oh well, it will get done later today or tomorrow or.....

Before I wrap this up, I want to remind folks that we have a web site, svaurora.com. I've updated the Photo Gallery, added the archives so our old journal entries can be accessed and updated most of the pages. The Google Earth route has not been updated from last season, but the list of our locations is current. So if you haven't checked it out you might want to. Ken only posts his updates or journals on the web and is more prolific than me. And he writes about all of the systems on the boat if you are interested.

Safe Passages,

Maryann

P.S.

We had the most wonderful dinner at the Montpelier Plantation Inn last night. It had to be one of the best meals we've had in the Caribbean. Not only was the food exceptional but the setting was elegant and the service outstanding. One could see how the sugar cane plantation owners might have lived. The Inn was lovely, the gardens inviting and well tended, the stone buildings impressive and the view of the ocean spectacular. Of course in its day this elegance came at the price of slavery. Not pretty at all. Still, last night was a wonderful evening and a pleasant surprise.


And here are the photos...

Theresa photographing a frangipani worm.

Colorful boutique in downtown Soufriere, St Lucia.

A back street of Soufriere. Not such a charming view.

The harbor at Terre de Haut, Iles des Saintes, Guadeloupe.

This boat house is where the local doctor lives. Iles des Saintes, Guadeloupe.

Entering Deshaies anchorage, Jan 23, 2008.

Deshaies from the pier. Guadeloupe.

Two doors on a Deshaies building.

Fishing nets, Deshaies, Guadeloupe.

French fabric, Deshaies, Guadeloupe.

The ruins of Fort Charles, Charlestown, Nevis.

The good: we are cruising again. We finally left Rodney Bay Marina, St Lucia on Sunday and sailed (yes, sailed!) to St Pierre on Martinique. It was a very pleasant 40-mile beam reach in moderate winds and modest seas. Probably one of the best sailing days we've had. We averaged between 8 and 9 knots, which ain't bad in a 46-ft sailboat. We didn't go ashore again in St Pierre, though it's a very charming French village built on the ruins of the "Paris of the Caribbean", destroyed in a huge volcanic eruption of Mt Pele in 1901. We'd visited on the way south, and we were anxious to get to Dominica and do some scuba diving.

Monday, bright and early, we left St Pierre for the 30-mile passage to Roseau, the capital city (town?) of Dominica. Again, we had a lovely few hours of fast sailing. In fact, 2 days of sailing back-to-back was unheard of previously. We arrived in Roseau and checked in with customs and immigration, and made reservations to dive with a local shop on Tuesday. The downside of Roseau is the rolling anchorage. The swells hit the open roadstead, and we were rolling all night long. But the next day's diving made up for it.

The 2 dives we did Tuesday were quite simply 2 of the nicest we've ever done. Dominica is positioning itself as the "eco-friendly" island, and is looking to eco-tourism to build its economy. They have the raw material, as the island is quite undeveloped, and the marine park in which we dove was pristine. You are not allowed to scuba dive on your own in Dominica; they don't want divers spoiling what they have. We dove a volcanic area around a sulferous cinder cone in one area, the Soufriere Piton, and on "Champagne Reef", so called because of the CO2 bubbling from subterranean vents. It was like diving through a glass of champagne. Well, sort of. :-) We saw a wide variety of critters and some absolutely gorgeous plant life and invertebrates. The only thing we missed were the sperm whales that frequent that area of Dominica this time of year, though they had apparently sighted them the previous day.

Dominica does get its share of cruise ships. Our diving companions were from one of the WindStar Windjammers, enormous 5-masted motorsailers. And in the morning one of the Carnival cruise ships docked right alongside of where we were moored. Maryann wandered the streets of Roseau with the other cruise ship passengers, but I opted for an afternoon nap.

Wednesday morning, after turning on our AIS system which shows us all of the large boats and ships within a 20-mile radius I noticed a boat called the Maltese Falcon just a mile away from where we were moored. The Maltese Falcon is arguably the world's largest private sailboat, at something like 287 ft. She was built just recently by Tom Perkins of Kleiner, Perkins venture capital fame (and funny enough, the division manager at HP when I started work there many years ago in my first job out of college). We took a swing by for a closer look and a couple of photos. She has 3 enormous carbon-fiber masts, each of which has 3 huge square sails that drop from spars. And rather than adjust the spars for the wind condition, the masts themselves rotate. Simply astounding to see those masts and think about the technology required to rotate them! This last summer I read a book about her construction and the pictures of the interior were unbelievable. Very high tech and very, very luxurious. She was probably on a charter, and I suspect she charters for something well over $300,000/week. That kind of money is almost unfathomable. We left her in peace and continued our northward trek.

We need to be in St Thomas by Feb 19 to meet Julia and Morgan, so we are anxious to close the distance. We set sail (but this time we had to leave the engine running since we needed to make water) for Isles des Saintes, just 5 miles south of Guadeloupe, about 38 miles north of our mooring in Roseau. The tradewinds were blowing strongly again, after an unseasonable 5 days of relative calm. We had 18-23 knot winds, and 5-7 ft seas. Not the most comfortable, and certainly not as nice as the previous couple of days, but we only had a little over 2 hours out of the lee of Dominica, so it wasn't bad. We arrived off Terre d'en Haut, the main islet of Isles de Saintes just after noon, went ashore to have some lunch, and clear customs and immigration. Nobody was home where we clear in, so we'll have to try again tomorrow. There are 2 other Hylas boats here in the anchorage, both Hylas 54's. We've met one owner, but not yet the other.

Not sure how long we'll hang out here, but we want to do some diving and snorkeling and eat some French food. Croissants and pain au chocolat in the morning!

It has been pretty amazing that little has broken in the last few days. We were talking with the other Hylas owner and he was saying that it was his wish that something small breaks every day, because he knows something is going to break, and it's nice if it's small. I know how he feels. We've been running the generator and using the water maker and it's so nice to have them finally working again. The wait for the parts was painful, but we've had nearly 5 days of painless cruising.

Which brings me to the bad and the ugly. Those that like happy endings should just stop reading here. Those who get a vicarious thrill out of the agonies of cruising, well, keep reading.

We finally took delivery on our new dinghy on Friday last. Not sure we described all of the hassles in getting it, but it wasn't a fun experience. It took from the 17th of December to the 11th of January to get it shipped from the states, and delivered to us in St Lucia. Air freight. And when it finally arrived at the St Lucia airport a week ago Tuesday, we couldn't get it because of a complete snafu with shipping costs. We'd originally been quoted $1000 for air freight, then they gave us a written quote for $500. When it arrived, they wanted $1300! We went around and around with the fellow who runs the inflatable dealership, and he went around and around with the air freight people. We ended up paying the original quote of $1000, but refused to pay the further $300 and the dealer ate the extra cost.

Of course by the time the truck arrived at the marina with the dinghy on Friday, it was nearly 5PM. The truck driver says he needs EC$80 for "customs late fee". I never did see him give the EC$80 to the customs guy; who know where it went? However, we were just so relieved to finally get our dinghy we were willing to ask no questions.

But after taking the dinghy out of its carboard carton and out of its (large) plastic bag, we find the dinghy is quite dirty. What's up with that? Oh well, maybe it was just stored in a dirty, dusty warehouse. We carry it to a wooden dock, being very careful not to rest the fiberglass hull on concrete (we scratched our previous dinghy that way and we learned our lesson), and inflate the tubes. Push it off into the water and tow it back to our boat with the loaner dinghy.

Back at our boat I notice the bottom is scratched! About an 18" section of the fiberglass where it's been dragged on some rough surface (like concrete!). We are not happy campers. We tow the new dinghy over to the dinghy dealer (and he's as dinghy as they come), and show him the abraded bottom. We were supposed to clean his loaner dinghy before returning it, but no way am I cleaning it with the new one being as dirty and scraped up as it is. He gets his loaner back with long strings of green algae, we put our outboard on the new dinghy and return to our boat.

But wait, it gets better (worse). Sunday we hoist the dinghy up on our davits and it's heavier than it should be. Oh, forgot to tighten the drain plug that allows you to drain the area between the floor and the hull of the dinghy. We learned that with the previous dinghy also. Until, looking under the dinghy, we find the hole. And the crack. Apparently they dropped the dinghy on something sharp somewhere along the line and the hole allows water to penetrate the inner hull, filling it. Oh, and the crack probably does the same, as it's close to 10 inches long. Aargh! We are very, very unhappy boaters. We've emailed the dealer and they say they are going to file a warranty claim, though I suspect the manufacturer will claim shipping damage, and given the lack of a relationship between the dealer and the air freight folks I hold out little hope our busted up dinghy will be repaired without us digging yet deeper.

Oh well. Most everything else is good. The weather isn't unpleasantly hot, and it cools down to the low 70's overnight. The water here in Isle des Saintes is gorgeously clear. We had fresh croissants for breakfast (they were already out of pain au chocolat!), and life's good.

OK, today's culture question: who wrote Waiting for Godot? Anybody out there actually read it or maybe even seen it performed? If so, you know how we've spent a good deal of the past 3 weeks here in St Lucia, only substitute "parts" for "Godot".

Actually, before I bore everybody with the usual recitation of what's broken and what we're waiting for to repair it, I will say that we had a very pleasant Christmas and New Years. Maryann's daughter Theresa arrived on Christmas eve, after having to make a last-minute change to her travel plans, given our failure to make it to Guadeloupe. We had a very nice week, exploring the west coast of St Lucia, including the 18th century fortifications on Pigeon Island, the very lovely and very secluded Marigot Bay, and the area around Soufrière, particularly the spectacular Pitons (namesake of the local beer). By the time this is posted I think the latest batch of photos will be up on the site.

Theresa flew out on the morning of the 31rst. We had anchored adjacent to the small airport in Castries, the island's capital, so it was a very short taxi ride to the terminal. Castries is also the destination for the cruise ships which come in a never-ending stream during cruise ship season, October through May. On any given day there might be 5 enormous cruise ships in town, and since there's only room for 3 at the docks, the other 2 have to anchor outside the harbor. Oh, and if you're the Queen Mary 2 you have to anchor out regardless, because you won't fit in the harbor! We saw her originally in Crown Bay on St Thomas earlier this year, and once again anchored outside Castries when we arrived from St Vincent. Truly enormous.

St Lucia seems quite prosperous, especially after St Vincent and the Grenadines and Grenada. Not quite so natural-resource-rich and industrialized as Trinidad, but well-0ff in the mold of an earlier year Hawaii. The banana crop is still number 1 here, but tourism is number 2 and is catching up. Simply amazing the differences we see just across 20- or 30-mile channels. The poverty in St Vincent is pervasive, though I have to add that things aren't nearly as prosperous outside the northwest corner of the island.

We've learned that St Lucia is the wedding capital of the Caribbean, with an average of 10 cermonies a day, year-round. Based on the pasty-white Europeans that abound, it's also quite popular as a winter tropical getaway. There are worse places to have to wait.

But waiting But is what we're doing. When we arrived here, we had a fairly short list of things that needed attention: a new dinghy and outboard, repair the jib's shredded UV-protection strip, get the generator working again, install the new LED tri-color/anchor light, and repair the mainsail where a batten had worked its way through the sail's leech (the trailing edge of the sail). While we were here we had our new refrigeration give us some grief, but topping off the refrigerant and tightening a connection seems to have solved that.

We ordered the new outboard on the 17th, and I think we took delivery on the 18th, which was pretty phenomenal. But then these islands live and die by their Yamaha outboards, so I guess that wasn't so surprising. We ordered the new dinghy on the 18th and it might just possibly arrive this afternoon. Maybe. The local dealer couldn't get a tracking number, and "those people (the distributor) are just so disorganized". This from one of the most disorganized ex-pat Brits I've ever come across - actually being an ex-pat Brit has nothing to do with it, other than it gives it a humorous tinge of a Monty Python sketch (think Minister of Silly Walks). But he did give us a loaner dinghy while waiting for our new one to arrive and that's been essential.

Oh, even if the dinghy does arrive this afternoon, it'll be tomorrow before we see it, as it has to pass through customs, and get delivered here from the airport. The dinghy will be duty-free, as parts for a yacht-in-transit are not charged duty. Ah, but there is the customs broker!

We've had a couple of FedEx packages arrive with eagerly awaited parts. Now even with tracking numbers it's sometimes difficult to actually find the package. Even when you have the signature facsimile of the receiving person you might not find the package for a few days. But once found, there is no way for us to retrieve it. We don't have the requisite paperwork. Only these quasi-official brokers seem to possess the correct paperwork. And the broker charges something like US$60 to retrieve the package, fill out the correct paperwork, and walk it through customs where we have to open the package for customs inspection. I asked about us filling out the paperwork, but apparently the forms are only available to brokers. So each "duty-free" package costs us big time.

So far we've gotten our mail packet (with some sewing-machine parts, a mounting bracket, and some prescription medications), a part that will hopefully allow us to get the generator working once again (the part was mailed from the UK to Trinidad, and arrived a week before we left - nobody told us it had arrived; then it took nearly 3 weeks to get it "overnighted" from the marina in Trinidad here), and a new pump head for our watermaker, which has been out of action since we left Trinidad. Each package has been an adventure to receive.

And then, of course, each repair leads to others. The jib was repaired by the local sail loft, saving us a bunch of bucks since he managed to repair rather than replace the UV protection canvas strip. But putting it back on the roller furler was blocked until I could get the mechanism to stop binding. At least this was one case of where reading the manual actually gave all the info necessary to correct the adjustment.

The generator part, a simple cover for the salt-water pump housing, finally arrived yesterday. This was the part that took Coral Cove Marina 3 weeks to forward to us. It was only the work of maybe 5 minutes to install the new cover, then another 2 minutes to break an O-ring on the salt-water pump itself! So today we ordered replacement O-rings. They cost about 35 cents each. The FedEx bill will probably be US$40. We're hoping that just maybe the package will bypass customs (and another US$60 for the broker) as they don't seem to bother with soft-sided envelopes. Still, it could turn a 35-cent part into a US$100 part!

We also received the stainless-steel bracket for mounting the new LED anchor/tri-color masthead light. Haven't worked up the nerve to head up the mast again to do the actual replacement. That's a long way up there and the wind's been blowing pretty well for the past month or two! See the pictures in Maryann's last update.

We also need to repair the mainsail. We seem to get enough flutter on the leech to where the battens want to work their way up and out through the sail cloth. We have some kevlar tape that will hopefully make short work of that repair. And once we get the O-rings (tomorrow, maybe) and the new dinghy (also hopefully tomorrow), we'll be able to get this show back on the road. Guests coming to meet us in St Thomas in 46 days; gotta get moving again!