April 19, 2008
Bound for Home
I woke at 5, put on some coffee, and finished the final preparations for our return to the marina. We left just before sunrise and began our short sail across the channel to Road Town, Tortola. The sun was just rising, and the winds were starting to pick up. It was so peaceful.
Thankfully, the marina had us return the boat to the end of the pier. No trying to squeeze back in between the pilings. We threw our gear off the boat, disposed of our garbage, had a shower, and hopped in a taxi to the airport.
While waiting for our flight, we went for a walk along the beach at Trellis Bay.
I took this photo of one of the islands as we flew over. Yes, it was the same little toy airplane we flew to Tortola in.
A short stopover in San Juan, and we would be New York bound.
It has been an outstanding week of sailing. Relaxing, invigorating, inspiring.
Posted by dave at 12:55 PM | Comments (0)
April 18, 2008
The Bight II
I was convinced, this next-to-last day in the BVIs, that we would run out of drinking water by mid-afternoon, and could not recall where the remaining 12 litres was stowed. Maybe there never was an extra 12 litres.
I quickly ran into the market to pick some up, check weather at the marina office and headed back to find Chis awake and reading in the cockpit. On my return, I humoured myself by checking the only place I hadn't checked for the water. Sure enough, there they were, lined up like little soldiers.
Yes, and I spotted my first gray hair this week.
We left Soper's Hole and had the most amazing beat to windward up the Francis Drake Channel. We practiced tacking and got it down to a science, dropping boat speed to no less than 5.5 knots from 7 knots making the turns. It was exhilarating.
Our last night in the BVIs, we will return the boat to the marina in the early hours tomorrow morning. We will dine at Pirate's Bight tonight on the beach.
Posted by dave at 12:50 PM | Comments (0)
April 17, 2008
Soper's Hole, Tortola
Continuing our circumnavigation of Tortola, we left Cane Garden Bay after dropping garbage in the dumpster on the beach and a nice walk. The winds were very light, but we enjoyed a nice close reach to the cut between the west end of Tortola and Thatch Island.
Soper's Hole has certain nostalgic significance for us. It was here that we left Platina to attend Chisholm's sister's wedding in Toronto in the spring of 2005. This was a time when we were hustling north out of the Caribbean for hurricane season. (When we finally arrived inside the insurable zone 8 days after the deadline, we felt very exposed in the low-lying Bahamas).
The significance of leaving Platina was an emotional one. She had become our home, our trusted partner in our journey. Leaving her alone for two weeks required a certain degree of trust and confidence. It would be our first test.
The wedding festivities and visits with countless friends and family created a wonderful distraction. I recall that I was seriously relieved to return to Soper's Hole to find Platina resting patiently waiting for us. She waited less than 36 hours for us to be ready to head back out to sea.
This place holds fond memories for us, and it seems fitting that we picked up a mooring in front of a Platina sister-ship, registered in La Rochelle, France, the very place we met Platina for the first time and began our journey at sea.
We walked the road out of Soper's Hole, a trek we had taken many times. This singular event made me very weepy. I kept it to myself.
I am reading The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini) and find myself perpetually on the verge of tears. Clearly, a state of mind.
Posted by dave at 12:40 PM | Comments (0)
April 16, 2008
Cane Garden Bay, Tortola
We both fell sound asleep in the cockpit last night after dinner. I awoke at some dark hour and went to bed. Chis came down at some later dark hour. It must have been early because Chis woke before 7, which is rare. We finally figured out that the time on the stereo was set to GMT.
We left after breakfast for our downwind sail to Cane Garden Bay on Tortola's north coast. We had a choice between motoring through the narrow passage between Tortola and Great Camanoe Island, or sailing out and around the island. Of course, we chose to sail.
Starting out with the wind dead astern, we sailed under genoa alone. As we reached our first waypoint at the tip of Great Camanoe Island, we rounded up into the wind 20 degrees and found a much more comfortable broad reach. We put up the main to give us more sail power and soon found ourselves peeling along at 7 knots. Hardening up yet again at our next waypoint, the beam reach found us flying along at almost 8 knots.
We picked up a mooring and had a desperately needed swim and shower. We went ashore to walk the beach, poke our heads into a couple of the shops, and then returned to the boat.
Tonight, we will barbecue steaks. This should be an adventure.
Posted by dave at 12:31 PM | Comments (0)
April 15, 2008
Sunset
Sunset over Tortola, Scrub Island, and Great Camanoe Island
Posted by dave at 02:10 PM | Comments (0)
Spanish Town, Virgin Gorda
We dropped off the mooring at Cooper Island after what seemed like hours drying out our wet clothes from yesterday's rain. We decided to go to Virgin Gorda, the place where we made landfall in the spring of 2005 on Platina after a fast overnight sail from Sint Maarten.
A reality when living on a boat where no pump-out facilities exist is what and where to deal with the past days' feasts. Once 5 miles from land, one may legally dump the holding tanks. At the precise moment, Chis went below to do the dirty deed. The deed involves rotating a valve 90-degrees, which redirects the bits and pieces from the tank to the outside world. It seems the valve was stuck. By what, I dare not guess. I began pondering the use of "the pail".
It occurred to me that we were healed to the side of the boat where the valve exited, and suggested that we tack so that the hole through which the tank would empty would be out of the water.
We tacked. Chis went below to try again. This time, the valve opened. Now, of course, we had purged the holding tank all over the side of the boat that was out of the water, exposing the evidence of our dirty deed. We tacked again, rinsing the side of the boat.
Successfully cleansed, we resumed our sail and arrived around 1pm. We picked up a mooring. We went ashore, anticipating an iPod cable to connect to the boat's stereo. No luck. We went for a long walk on the island. A little exploration.
We walked the docks at the marin on Virgin Gorda, and stumbled on a Platina sister-ship. She looked HUGE! And terribly awkward. Clearly, our tastes are changing. Perhaps because the world we plan to sail is smaller.
As the sun began to set, we commented on how we felt more like charterers this year, and less like cruisers. There is a definite difference. Perhaps it's because we know that we return to New York at the end of the week. Perhaps it's the fact that we bought a boat that will not take us on our next offshore voyage. Perhaps it's because each day that takes us further from resuming the dream takes us further from the consciousness we left behind. It is still deep within us, a confidence that allows us to roam about these islands stress-free. The sea calls us both, and we yearn for the fresh sea air, the motion of the sea and simple, humbling feeling that Nature bestows on those who respect her.
Posted by dave at 01:53 PM | Comments (0)
Drying Out After the Storm
Posted by dave at 01:50 PM | Comments (0)
April 14, 2008
Cooper Island
Leatherback Turtle in the Rain, Cooper Island, British Virgin Islands
Neither of us brought a watch on this journey, so I'm not entirely sure what time I woke this morning, but it was well after sunrise. I had a wonderful sleep, finally off the dock and out at anchor. Chis slept for what I think was another couple of hours. The skies were filling in and looking more and more like rain. The forecast was for a weak trough to pass through during the day.
After a morning swim, we prepared for a heavy day of sailing. Today, we would leave Norman Island and sail into the wind up the Francis Drake Channel, targetting Virgin Gorda, an island to the east of Tortola.
Not long after we left, it was looking more and more like rain, and it was moving in thick and fast. And it looked in the distance like it was going to be a lot of rain. With the rain, we expected more wind.
Sure enough, the winds started gusting the 25 knots, and the rain started to blow horizontally. We donned our foul weather gear and kept on going. The wind was oscilating between southeast and northeast, making it difficult to make progress on our eastward trek. We tacked to take advantage of a wind shift, only for the wind to shift again. Tack, wind shift. Tack, wind shift.
With less progress than expected, we decided to cut the journey short and head to Cooper Island, a rolly anchorage in the southeast islands. We were both soaked to the bone, Chis especially as he had stood upwind of me so that I could continue to steer the boat with the rain pelting my face. I had been shivering for almost an hour, but didn't dare tell Chis. The visibility had become increasingly poor, now having lost sight of Virgin Gorda, Cooper Island, Tortola or any other island for that matter. Cutting our trip short turned out to be a good idea, as the trough stalled and continue to dump heavy rain.
Despite the shivers and dampness, we had a glorious time, tacking upwind like a couple of seasoned pros. It was a highly invigorating sail.
It is pouring rain now, the hatch leaks on my leg as I sit with my feet up, writing this. The humidity is 100% out there, 110% down here, and our foulies hang in the head drying out... or trying too. There is a lump of wet t-shirts in the sink. It's barely bright enough to write/read/sudoko by, but turning on a light consumes valuable volts from the single battery running the house electrical system. Charging the battery requires running the engine, which is both noisy and polluting. So we make do, a reminder of the luxuries of living in New York.
A nice sensory experience is the sound of the rain on the deck above us. Living in a 3rd floor apartment in a 7-story building in Manhattan does not give us a sense of the rain. Having said that, living in New York really gives you no sense of the weather at all. Without a weather forecast, you can't see enough of the sky to know what weather approaches. I love the sound of the rain.
I admit that having lost track of time in bad weather was unnerving. Exactly how close were we to sunset when we were out there sailing in a shroud of heavy rain, unable to see the islands, and unable to see the sun to judge fow closely the end of day approached? When we decided to head to Cooper Island instead of proceeding another three hours to Virgin Gorda, would we have made it by nightfall? If we arrived at Cooper Island and there was no room in the anchorage, would we have made it to Plan B in daylight?
Next time, I will not forget a watch.
BANANA REPORT - Chis gave two bunches of bananas to the boat across the dock before we left the marina. We have 11 more to go (bananas, that is, not pounds of bananas). We may be swinging from trees when we finish!
Posted by dave at 01:28 PM | Comments (0)
April 13, 2008
The Bight, Norman Island
I woke this morning before sunrise, went for a walk while Chis slept, ran a couple of errands, and made coffee. Chis awoke when I returned, and the marina had become a beehive of activity. Fitzroy arrived in the middle of breakfast, almost an hour late for our boat briefing. Our briefing took all of 20 minutes, because we had already explored the entire boat, and actually moved some of the saftey gear to more logical places. While it looked like the boat had never been chartered, there were signs that it had. Nevertheless, we moved a pair of life jackets, still in their packaging, from below decks to the cockpit, where they would be accessible and handy in the event we needed them.
We were Med-moored on the dock (stern tied to the dock with the bow tied to a piling). The space between two pilings, which we shared with the boat next to us, was almost exactly the width of the boat. We notified the people on the boats next to us that we were on our way, then began to wiggle our way out. There was no way to have avoided bumping into the other boats or the pilings given the way they had us all tied up. It was insane. I was not looking forward to our return.
We got under way in 15 knots of wind on a beam reach for The Bight, a wonderful, breezy anchorage on the west side of Norman Island, just south of Tortola. We picked up a mooring, had ham sandwiches (and bananas), and settled in for some serious reading. We enjoyed a very relaxing afternoon of beach combing, reading, swimming, snoozing, and lounging.
Posted by dave at 11:20 AM | Comments (0)
April 12, 2008
Maren
We arrived at the marina shortly before 4pm and our boat for the week, Maren, was not yet ready. We hopped on a shuttle to the local grovery store to pick up a few bits and pieces, returned to the marina to enjoy a beer at the marina bar while the sun began to set, and waited patiently for the boat to be ready.
By 6:30, we were finally aboard, and we were busy stowing our gear when the provision I had ordered online suddenly arrived. Following a large bad full of fresh fruits and vegetables, Chis passed me a mik crate full of bananas. I can only guess that when I input quantity as 12, I was ordering pounds, not individual. I had overdone it on a numner of other counts - apples, tomatoes, etc. Anything that I had thought was ordered per item was indeed per pound. 5 tomatoes became 5 pounds of tomatoes...
Too, our turkey for sandwiches arrived as ham, and in vast quantity.
We'll spend the week eating ham and banana sandwiches!
Neither of us lasted long our first night, especially Chis who worked long hours to be able to get away for the week. After a dinner of salad and fruit (yes, bananas), we fell sound asleep despite the screaming baby on the boat next to us and the party boys on the boat across the dock.
Posted by dave at 11:10 AM | Comments (0)
Huh?
I am our travel agent. I book everything on the web. Mostly, I use www.kayak.com. The problem with booking on the web is you lose some of the details. Or, at least, a breathing travel agent would probably tell you that cheap flight from San Juan, Puerto Rico to Tortola is a wind-up toy. The plane was so small that they made the sole woman passenger stow her purse in the little compartment in the wing (you can see it on the left side of the plan).
Chis caught a mild cold just before we left for a week of sailing in the British Virgin Islands. We chartered a 36' sailboat, just the two of us. This will be the fourth time we've sailed these waters.
Up before dawn, we cabbed to Penn Station, trained to Newark Airport, AirTrain-ed to Terminal C, flew to San Juan, then boarded this little thing. As my mom would say, it stopped three times - once for fuel and twice for directions.
Posted by dave at 08:51 AM | Comments (0)