November 25, 2007
Farewell PorFin
Mike and Judy have decided to spend a month in Bonaire, then skip westward to Curacao and Aruba. From there, they plan to continue along the Colombia and Panama coasts. The journey to the Panama Canal is a long one. We have already started to talk about joining them for this long voyage.
I love the long journeys. More than the short ones. It is a greater challenge, and one that requires a careful balance between courage and freedom. There is nothing quite like losing sight of land, and trusting your instincts to get you there safely.
I return to New York, adrift on land again, with my heart already pining for the sea.
Farewell, PorFin. Farewell, Mike and Judy. May the winds always be at your back.
Posted by dave at 02:59 PM | Comments (0)
November 24, 2007
Work Work Work
The addition of the staysail to PorFin's rig resulted in the potential for the radar antenna to damage the new sail, or vice versa. Mike and Judy ordered a guard (the metal hoop that is hanging from my right hip in the photo).
I had gone up the mast to determine the size of the bolts, and assess the situation. As Mike and I talked about what would be involved in the installation, we realized it would be a two person job. Especially with the wind blowing 20 knots all the time.
The challenge was to remove the radar antenna from its mounting bracket, and slip the guard underneath, then line up the bolts with the holes in the guard and the antenna, and tighten it. The trick was what to do with the radar antenna while the guard was set in place. We decided it was a two person job.
It went easier than expected, but long enough to lose the circulation below my derriere. I was in a climbing harness, not a bosun's chair.
Posted by dave at 02:53 PM | Comments (0)
Sinterklaas
One of the wonderful things about traveling is learning local traditions. At 10am, Saint Nicholas was scheduled to arrive by tug boat at the town pier in Kralendijk. We followed the tug in PorFin’s dinghy, and arrived in time to see Saint Nicholas and his “assistants” disembark at the pier and walk into town, led by drummers. Several things were unique about this tradition. The man playing the role of Saint Nicholas was a black man painted white. And the “assistants” were painted very black, wore pink lipstick, and black gloves. According to this tradition, Saint Nicholas’ elves were, in fact, slaves. And Saint Nicholas’s costume was closer to religious than the traditional Santa Clause with which I am familiar.
This explanation comes from www.bonairetalk.com: “December 6th is St. Nicholas day. Internationally and traditionally he is known as Saint Nicholas, but in Holland [Bonaire is part of Holland] he is more commonly known as Sinterklaas. Many children anticipate his arrival 2 weeks before the festive day. Instead of coming to town by a sledge and nine reindeers this Sinterklaas comes to Holland by ship [the tug boat], from Spain, and rides through the streets on his white horse [a horse would have expired in the heat!]. Normally Sinterklaas is also accompanied by a whole lot of helpers who are known as Zwarte Piets. These helpers are dressed as jesters, and they paint any exposed skin black and wear thick red lipstick.
“It is said that during this time, both Sinterklaas and his helpers listen in through chimneys to see whether the children have behaved well or bad. If the children are bad they will be kidnapped and sent to Spain for slavery! On the eve of St. Nicholas day, the children in Holland would leave their clogs (wooden shoes) by the hearth filled with straw for the Sinterclass's horse. In return Sinterclass would leave the children treats. His gifts were given late at night so his identity would remain secret. Good kids get presents in their shoes and the bad kids get a chunk of coal.
“St Nicholas was a Christian priest, born in 280 AD, in Turkey. He was a wealthy man and traveled all around helping people, giving gifts of money and presents. The legend of Nicholas made him so popular that more European churches bore his name than that of any of the apostles. He was made patron saint of Greece and Russia. The date of Nicholas's death -- believed to be on December 6th, 326 AD -- was widely celebrated as the feast of Saint Nicholas, but was removed from the Roman Catholic calendar in 1969 because the legends about Saint Nicholas are so incredible. The transformation of Saint Nicholas (in his red & white bishop's robes) to Santa Claus happened largely in America -- with inspiration from the Dutch.”
Posted by dave at 02:47 PM | Comments (0)
November 23, 2007
Flamingos
This is a fuzzy photo of some pink dots. The pink dots are wild flamingos.
FYI. Flamingos are pink because they feed primarily on brine shrimp, which are rich in beta carotene.
Posted by dave at 02:41 PM | Comments (0)
Cycling the Salt Pans
Chis flew down to Bonaire to join us, and we decided to cycle the south end of the island and around the salt pans. Flamingoes are wild on the island, and we heard the best viewing was toward the south end.
Mike and Judy have bikes on the boat, and Chis and I rented a pair from the hotel next door. We set off down the island for what turned out to be a little more than 20 miles. We stopped to watch the kite surfers and chug a couple of bottles of water. Shortly after, we stumbled on the slave huts. This photo tells a lot about the tiny size of these structures.
Posted by dave at 02:34 PM | Comments (0)
November 19, 2007
Sailing
Posted by dave at 02:32 PM | Comments (0)
Kralendijk, Bonaire, Netherlands Antilles
As the day progressed, we realized that we had cut almost 15 hours from our time at sea. In fact, it was looking quite a bit like we would make landfall before dark, a full day ahead of schedule. We talked about whether we would risk finding a mooring buoy in the dark. The moon had been bright enough the night before that we decided that it was a risk worth taking.
We had turned on the radar to track a series of squalls around us, and Judy spotted the island about 15 miles away. Strangely, the radar wasn’t picking it up. Truly a Twilight Zone moment.
We rounded the northwest tip of the island and came along side a large oil transfer station. We later learned that they use the island to “launder” oil. Bonaire buys it from the “bad” countries, then sells it as “good country” oil.
We approached the mooring field in front of town and picked one up just before the sun started to set. Opting to clear customs and immigration in the morning, we put everything away on the boat, and settled in for a lovely dinner and early to bed.
Bonaire is most famous for its snorkeling and scuba diving, rated some of the best in the world. The island is like no other I have ever visited in the Caribbean. It is quiet and clean with freshly painted buildings and well-paved roads.
For the history of the island, click HERE.
Posted by dave at 02:27 PM | Comments (0)
November 18, 2007
Sailing is not Always Romantic
3:50am-ish. I was sleeping deeply for the first time since we departed. I cannot explain exactly what sleeping at sea feels like. There is a certain awareness, but not alertness. One ear is always tuned to changes in noise. After four hours of sleep, you feel rested and ready for the watch, you are aware of your dreams (maybe related to being rocked to sleep?), but you feel wacky from sleep deprivation. It takes a few days to get into the new rhythm of sleep patterns, but your body adapts to the pattern very easily. There is also something about the adrenaline of sailing that keeps you awake, and the unflinching responsibility for human lives that weighs heavily on each of us. We are a team, responsible for the health and safety of each other. There is a degree of selflessness and compassion that can only be explained by the sheer gravity of nature’s ability to provide power to those with the courage to harness it, as well as a deep respect for her ability to destroy. It is with all of this that sleep at sea is not typical.
I recall in the fog of this sleep, the sounds of grinding winches. This could mean good things, such as a wind shift. It could also mean bad things.
And so it was that I awoke to “Mike, the jib is on the other side”.
As quickly as I could, I scampered up on deck. The winds had picked up to 30 knots, and Mike and Judy had been reefing the mainsail (making it smaller). None of us is entirely sure how it happened, but the jib, staysail and mainsail were all on the wrong side of the boat, and we were in irons (a condition where the boat is pointing directly into the wind with no ability to steer to gain motion). We turned on the engine, and managed to put the jib and the staysail away. We sailed the rest of the night with the mainsail alone. The jib and staysail sheets were wound up in knots, making them unusable. Erring on the side of safety, we decided not to try to undo the knots until daylight.
With the benefit of daylight, we assessed the chaos. Slowly but surely, we undid the spaghetti by rerunning all the sheets. With the wind picking up, we sailed with the mainsail and staysail alone, and found we were progressing very nicely. The staysail was a new addition to PorFin’s rig, and we all found that it performed exceedingly well in heavy winds.
Posted by dave at 02:09 PM | Comments (0)
November 17, 2007
At Sea
Shortly after the sun rose, the winds finally began to pick up. First 10 knots, then 12 knots, and there was a building swell from the east. I knew from experience that the swells precede the winds, so I was confident that the trade winds would begin to fill in soon.
With lighter winds blowing on the port beam, we decided to set the mainsail and the asymmetric spinnaker. We shut off the engine and we were underway in rolly-polly seas.
The asymmetric spinnaker is like flying a kite – a highly visual undertaking. We decided that with the lack of visibility at night, we would take it down in favour of the more solid and conservative jib.
During our first 24 hours at sea, we covered 155 miles, putting us ahead of schedule and feeling pretty good about our progress.
Posted by dave at 02:05 PM | Comments (0)
November 16, 2007
Punta Arenas, Isla Vieques, Puerto Rico
We had a wonderful breakfast of fresh fruit, New York bagels, orange juice and coffee. After some final provisioning, showers, farewells to neighbours, and a trip to the post office, we set free of the dock shortly after 1pm and headed for the northwest tip of Isla Vieques. There wasn’t a breath of wind. Nothing. The cold front that we were concerned about had stalled just north of the island, stalling the wind. We motored along, giving me an opportunity to get comfortable with handling the boat.
We approached the anchorage where Chis and I had set up for the night several months prior. Since we had been here, mooring buoys had been installed. With nothing to tell us otherwise, we pick up a mooring, and had some dinner.
Shortly after midnight (legend has it that it is bad luck to leave for a long ocean voyage on a Friday), we dropped off the mooring and set off motoring southwest toward Bonaire. Sailing across the prevailing easterly trade winds would mean a single port tack on a beam reach.
Posted by dave at 02:04 PM | Comments (0)
November 15, 2007
Fajardo, Puerto Rico
I woke this morning to cool dampness, darkening clouds and the threat of heavy rain. I decided that today would be a good day to try taking public transportation to JFK. It worked out exceedingly well, taking the Long Island train to Jamaica, then the AirTrain to the terminal. I don’t think I spent $15. A long way short of the usual small fortune I fork out for a taxi.
It made plenty of sense since I was traveling lightly. With plans to sail in the tropics, I needed little more than a pair of shorts and a couple of t-shirts. And a hand-held GPS, and binoculars, and a compass, and…
As the flight was taxiing to the runway, I saw a sea of airplanes lining up. I counted 17 ahead of us. The dark skies had finally revealed their stock, and in true New York area fashion, the delays started to pile up. Despite the delays, I arrived in San Juan only an hour late, and Mike and Judy, owners of PorFin, were waiting patiently to pick me up. I learned later that the airport had reported the flight’s arrivals ten minutes early, and having concluded I had missed the flight, Mike and Judy were debating on heading out. I spotted Judy. We haven’t seen each other since Christmas 2005, but we recognized each other right away.
I collected by backpack from the carousel, and proceeded out the door to finally meet with my co-conspirators in a 400-mile journey across the Caribbean Sea to the island of Bonaire.
After a wonderful dinner, we pulled out the charts, and checked the weather. The weather suggested three potential problems. First, a cold front extending from Bermuda to just north of Puerto Rico, giving us no wind for the first 30ish miles of the journey. Second, a tropical wave (precursor to a tropical depression/ storm/ hurricane, although with a diminished probability this late in the season), would pass to the south of us as we progressed south. Third, another tropical wave would leave the islands of the Eastern Caribbean on Sunday. We decided that we would leave, favouring the lagging edge of the first wave over getting clipped by the leading edge of the second one. The cold front told us that we would likely motor the first part of the voyage.
With a planned speed of 5 knots, the 400-mile journey would take us roughly 80 hours or about three-and-a-half days. Preferring to arrive in daylight, a departure around midnight seemed logical, giving us some wiggle room to arrive ahead or behind schedule.
Leaving the dock in the dark didn’t seem like such a grand idea, so we decided to head to Isla Vieques to the southeast, drop anchor, have some dinner, a snooze, then slip quietly off the mooring in the middle of the night.
Posted by dave at 02:01 PM | Comments (0)