St Kitts and Nevis

The general orders for india as we tour around the Caribbean is to head south.  Our insurance demands it in fact, since the poor insurance companies have been hit hard in recent years by multiple major hurricanes in the Caribbean islands and shelled out probably billions in claims to unfortunate yacht owners.  In St Maarten, and to some extent other islands too, one can still see the wrecked yachts and catamarans littering the lagoons and harbours - even after two years.  The authorities clear out the wrecks in the shipping channels, but the others are left to rot - a permanent reminder of the forces of nature.  Anyway, the point is our insurance policy is invalid unless we are at a point below a latitude of 12 degrees North during hurricane season.  This means we need to be in Grenada as soon as practicably possible, so our route now we have reached the eastern extremes of the Caribbean is to turn right, and travel down the Leeward and Windward islands towards the coast of South America.

Luckily this route will take us to some of the more exotic and less touristy countries - for example St Kitts and Nevis.  I remember as a boy in England learning about what was then the powerful and extensive British Commonwealth, coming across St Kitts and Nevis and thinking what an odd name that was for a country.  And here I was finally, about to set foot there.

St Kitts, it seems, is a nickname for St Christopher - the official name of the main island (Nevis is it's more southerly and smaller sibling).  We left St Maarten in an unexpectedly strong wind and sea state and so had a relatively uncomfortable, but fast, sail to St Kitts - maximum speed of of over 10 knots for the 60 mile route.  The route took us past Saba, barely visible to the starboard side, and St Eustatius, another Dutch volcanic island close to St Kitts.  We had to sail down most of the length of the island - about 10 miles - to arrive at the capital Basse Terre (a common name in the Caribbean meaning 'Low Ground' in French) late in the afternoon.  During this part we saw how incredibly lush and green the island was, with quaint little towns and villages dotted along the coast and an impressive hill fort high above us at Brimstone Hill.  It looked truly beautiful.

So we arrived at our planned anchorage in a rather commercial and boring looking harbour at Basse Terre, put down the hook, and looked around.  Depending on where one anchors, there may sometimes be a swell on the water, caused by the waves and breakers from the open seas levelling out to make a gentle, but large movement of the water surface.  What this means when anchored is that boat will roll from side to side, or pitch front to back depending on the prevailing wind and currents.  Here, it was particularly rolly with a side swell - uncomfortably so.  It can actually make you feel quite queasy even at anchor walking around the boat and even sleeping in such a swell.  It was too late to execute a backup plan so we sat tight and next morning bright and early took the dinghy into town to check-in and scope out the town.  Lately cruise ship traffic to some of these lesser islands has increased dramatically, which is great for tourism - often one of the largest contributors to the Gross Domestic Product - but has spoiled some of the former quaintness and introduced an element of tackiness we are used to seeing in the more overrun tourist destinations.  So it was we found the customs and immigrations people busy dealing with a cruise-ship-load of check-ins.  Nothing else for it, let's illegally roam the town, check out the museum, and hell - get a beer or three (it was three for one at all the local bars serving the cruise port, and it was five o'clock somewhere).  We also succumbed and ordered rotis - yes, just like the indian roti, but filled with chicken and goat curry.  Trivia fact here - the most eaten protein on the planet, by a very large margin, is goat - and if you haven't tried it you should because it is delicious.

Well, that was about all Basse Terre had to offer and after our check-in, we pulled anchor and set off for a more level anchorage a couple of miles down the coast at Frigate Bay, right across from Mr X's Shiggedy Shack.  Things were looking up!  We found decent WiFi in the bay here and found a local car hire company that would deliver a car to the beach next day so we could do a quick tour around the island.  We met Alan, the English ex-pat owner the next morning at the Shiggedy Shack and we were off.  The first thing we wanted to check out was the fort at Brimstone Hill that we saw towering above us as we sailed along the coastline.  Just a few miles north of us, it was a picturesque drive through quaint Caribbean villages with lots of original Caribbean style single houses dotted along the roadside.  The fort itself was incredibly well preserved, up on a prominent hill with an incredible view over invaders coming in from the west and the whole coastline.  We were there the day before a visit from the Taiwanese Prime Minister and they were erecting a large event tent and practising protocol.  The fort, of course, was started by the British in the 1700's - designed by the Brits, but built by African slaves, and saw all of the to-and-fro of battles between the French and the British as the islands swapped sides over more than a century, due to it's importance strategically and for its sugar cane industry.

Having a car for the day is a rare luxury for us, and means that we can search out the bigger supermarkets for topping up our rum provisions.  So we made a couple of runs to load up with goodies, and finished our round the island tour, stopping off at a wonderful original beach bar, the Shipwreck, for lunch and cocktails before returning to the boat for a siesta.  We left the car on the beach, unlocked, with keys under the sun visor, for Alan to pick up the next morning.

Next day saw us moving further down the coast to Salt Plage  - a convenient and pretty anchorage close to the southern tip of St Kitts and perfect for our next hop to the sibling island of Nevis.  As we move further south, so we find the water is clearer and warmer.  Here it is about 84 degrees and a perfect temperature for all kinds of aquatic life, not least coral, and we found some beautiful coral in the form of purple tunicates - small groups of purple tubes attached to rocks and underwater structures.  And the coral brings the fish in all sizes and colours.  With the increasing water clarity, the snorkelling becomes quite addictive as we cruise around on the surface peeking into another world of shapes and colours.

Nevis is close by and we arrived there in an hour or so.  It is another volcanic island in the Soufriere chain - all of which is currently active.  Again, a picturesque and quaint island dotted with small exclusive resorts and timeless villages.  We really only spent enough time here to check out the local museum, stroll through the streets of the main town, Charlestown, and complete our check-out before leaving for Montserrat.

St Kitts and Nevis - all those years ago when I first heard of this country I had no idea how beautiful it was.  St Kitts in particular stole our hearts a little bit  - the people were welcoming, the land was lush and green and spectacular and life proceeded at a pace that is undeniably pedantic.  Close to paradise.  But wait - there's more to come....

No denying the heritage of St Kitts...

Clock Tower in Basse Terre

Monkey Business near the cruise port

Three for One?? OK, we'll bite...

And rotis too!!

The fort at Brimstone Hill

That's a big cannon!!

Invincible position

And a great view

Such a lush and green country

Erecting the tent for the Taiwanese delegation

World's most popular protein!!

View from the Shipwreck.....that's black volcanic sand.

SXM

I could write endlessly about the captivating island of St. Martin/Sint Maarten.  The dual nation has been the most influential and character forming place I have ever lived so one can imagine the mother lode of tales and anecdotes stored in the recesses of my mind.  I have met so many fascinating people here over the years, people I consider family and the events that shaped our lives are no ordinary stories.  Writing about SXM is not difficult at all, keeping the writing relevant to my current journey and this blog is my enduring problem.

I found SXM on my way to St. Bartholomew in the spring of 1984.  My connecting flight to St. Bart’s the next morning left me with a night all to myself at a Dutch-side Hotel near Philipsburg.  I asked a taxi to take me to the liveliest place to find the local crowd and the rest is history...literally.  SXM has always been promoted as the friendly island and I can certainly attest to that, especially in the 80s when the population was still in the thousands.  My new found friends set me up with a job for the winter season so I quit my job in the States, suspended my university studies and spent the summer in Europe before moving to SXM five months later.  Those first years were ethereal; halcyon days at the beaches and late nights at the bars and discos.  Everyone knew each other (and each other’s business).  It was an island neighborhood of a myriad of nations, over 72 even then, I once heard.  Those were the days of the Spronk Cats and single day Heineken Regattas, Sam’s Bar and Cafe de Paris.  Hitchhiking was safe, people smoked grass in public, no one wore much clothing.  There were far fewer Americans and much smaller resorts.  It was a completely different place from what it is now.  I adored SXM and thought I’d never leave until a love story took me to the USVIs and BVIs to crew on luxury term charters in 1988, a year in South Africa, then back to the Virgin Islands with a license to run my own charter yacht.  Most first loves don’t work out and when mine unraveled I naturally took refuge back in SXM in 1992.  It was more exciting than ever!  My favorite people were still around and the idyllic laid back village of Grand Case had transformed into a marvelous scene of innovative restaurants and boisterous bars and legendary characters.  Cha Cha Cha, Jimbo Lolo, and Surf Club South were in full swing. It was terribly scandalous and spectacular fun! The same type of boom had started in Simpson Bay and now it was impossible to see the beaches or the lagoon from the airport road anymore.  Thus began one of the most enchanting periods of my habitation on the island.  The decadent calm before the storm, Hurricane Luis on September 5, 1995.  In a recent conversation a friend described it as a time of no restraint.  Unsustainable, it couldn’t have lasted and when the biggest hurricane known to any of us hit the island nothing was ever the same again.

A tragedy took me off the island shortly afterward and I thought it would be too depressing to return. My reluctance was unfounded as I arrived to a new building boom as shell shocked denizens were in full recovery with admirable resilience and an impressive drive to restore their businesses and improve the infrastructure.  An influx of new inhabitants had energized the economy and increased the allure.  My job on the Lady Mary was still available to me as well as some new offers to fill my extra time and the upbeat and hopeful atmosphere was infectious.  How could I resist?  Where else could I be?  I was home.

I stayed another six years and seven more hurricanes.  When I left for good in 2001, it was a career driven venture that had been in progress for some time.  It was a good move and it was time but that’s a Miami story.  I returned a couple of times for short visits while the island kept growing.  The Cruise ship Terminal was completed as well as the Simpson Bay Causeway.  I could only find my way around the island because I still knew the roads but not the scenery.  So much of the island was unrecognizable to me but my friends were still there and that’s all that mattered.

I watched the news of hurricane Irma in helpless horror as she swept through the northern islands in 2017.  A slow motion delayed shock set over me as the photos of the damage became available on the internet.  It was months before I had any contact with the people I loved down there.  A devastating storm of the century, worse than Luis, which was catastrophic.  When the big ones hit, it is an indiscriminate and indescribable disaster the proportions of which can only be understood by those who experience it.  I know that my experience in Luis will only equip me with a modicum of comprehension when it comes to Irma so I can only listen to the accounts and witness the aftermath that we saw last November on a visit and have seen on our current journey from Puerto Rico through the Virgins to my beloved SXM.

Not the smoothest of segues here, but I hope everyone understands that although we had planned to spend more time in SXM it was not in our best interest, or more to the point, in the best interest of our sailboat.  We know the storms won’t start spinning off of Africa for a couple of weeks but our insurance (that we are lucky to have, not so easy to arrange in the Caribbean these days) doesn’t care.  We are supposed to already be south of 12 Degree North Latitude now to comply.  Effectively, we are not insured for hurricanes or any other calamity until then so we are compelled to move south and keep our India safe.  SXM has some of the best chandlers and marine stores and a massive Ace Hardware store now.  Unbelievably, we also needed a repair on our new main sail this time from all the bad weather we've experienced.  And India is a French boat with 220 Volt power supply and French plugs and we had been looking forward to adding some new appliances.  We kept very busy and soon another week had disappeared.  We had already missed several friends by the time we arrived but were very happy to make Babette’s Birthday and spend time with Pierre, Jimbo, Monique and Patrick.  We wished we could have stayed longer and are sad that we needed to leave so soon that we missed a few other friends.

St. Maarten/St. Martin is a beautiful island with a charm like no other.  It’s beaches are breathtaking and there are 36 of them.  The restaurants are competitive and top notch.  It’s hotels are beautifully situated with friendly and helpful staff.  The island takes care of its tourists because they understand how it drives the economy and want to promote their island with pride.  The dichotomy of nations makes it unique and interesting as well as all the people from everywhere who have made SXM their home.  It’s the only place I know where one can stand on the beach and watch jumbo passenger airliners land

overhead.  The Heineken Regatta has grown into a first rate and internationally recognized event and Carnival in April is big celebration and a lot of fun!  Yes, the island has been battered again by a recent hurricane but it is bruised, not broken.  If you’ve never been here, I highly recommend a visit, like most of us who’ve spent time here, it won’t be your last.

Dinner at Jimbo's Cafe for Babette's Birthday!

Gathering on S/V india

With Suzanne and Dan

British Virgins do still exist.....

After our recuperative week in St Thomas from the beatings, we headed to St John, another of the US Virgin Islands, to anchor in Caneel Bay - a beautiful bay with a sandy beach, clear waters and blue skies. Like most anchorages in the area now, in order to accommodate more cruisers safely (and to generate some income), the bays are filled with mooring balls.  You sneak slowly up on one of these balls with someone (me) hanging off the front of the boat, grab the short tether line with a boat hook, pull it up and tie your two mooring lines to the massive eye on the mooring line itself. The line disappears down into the water to be attached, usually, to a large block of concrete on the sea bed.  These moorings leave you unnervingly close to the other boats, but with a short line to the bottom, the boat does not move much as the winds and currents change, making for a higher density of visitors and income for the locals at $30 a pop.  Honestly, we didn't mind at all since the whole process is actually easier than anchoring and the income helps to maintain the moorings to a safe level.

After a quick overnight in Caneel Bay we set off to the British Virgin Islands, a short hop away.  We started off heading for Soper's Hole at one end of the largest island Tortola, but for some reason halfway there we changed our minds and decided Jost van Dyke would be a better starting point. The BVIs have many beautiful spots to visit and we tried to create an efficient route that kind of started at one end and finished at the best place to stage for our next destination St Maarten.  So Jost VD became the place we would check into customs and immigration, and happily is the location of the famous Foxy's bar on the beach.  Dara has visited here many times, but I have never, so I was the virgin as I sipped my first Painkiller looking across the pretty bay.

There isn't much else to do on Jost other than swim and drink so the next day we moved to the iconic Cane Garden Bay on the west side of Tortola.  This is another breathtaking bay with crystal clear waters and white sands.  We stayed for a few hours to paddle board and swim, and for Dara, to see how it has changed over the years.  As with most places that she visited in the 90's in this area, the changes are mostly lots of expansion through building and increased tourism, and then some destruction from recent hurricanes.  The land and seascapes, generally, remain as stunning as ever.

From Cane Garden bay we moved back south to Sopers Hole, our original, but aborted starting point, but found it to be full of reconstruction following hurricanes Irma and Maria.  It was noisy and an eyesore, so after mooring for an hour, we took off again, headed for Norman Island, the most southerly of the BVIs.  Here there is a large bay with a protected position, deep water, and a great snorkelling spot called the Caves.  Large boulders that fell into the sea thousands or even millions of years ago have created an underwater labyrinth of caves and crevices which is an ideal environment for fish, sharks and coral.  You can see some of them in the video clip below.

We overnighted at Norman Island, then the following morning we moved to Road Town, the major town and administrative seat of the BVIs.  Only a short sail away, we were moored by afternoon, and went ashore to sample the famous Pusser's Rum at the original Pusser's Pub on the waterfront.  More painkillers, and we decided to try the local Indian restaurant for dinner.  Indian food is the national food of Britain, so it was no surprise to find at least one here in this British Territory.  It didn't disappoint, and we made a new friend in Prasad, the owner.  He was interested in our Indian travels, our passion for Indian food and the fact we had named our boat 'india'.  Since Road Town has all facilities, we took the opportunity to shop for supplies and found, to Dara's delight, a liquor store stocking Stowford Press cider, one of her favourites from the UK.

Next day we were off again, this time to Peter Island, a large deep water bay.  We anchored in about 50 feet of water, and found ourselves in the middle of a party centered on the infamous 'Willy T' - a large trawler permanently anchored in the bay and transformed many years ago into a bar and restaurant.  Later in the evening we dinghied over to take a look and have a drink, but it was overcrowded with dinghies and drunk kids somersaulting into the water off the boat.  Wow - we felt old!  We turned around without tying up and went home to india to have a quiet sunset cocktail on our own. 

Next stop the following morning was to The Baths on Virgin Gorda. This is the second largest island in the BVIs, and named 'fat Virgin' due to its mountainous shape.  The Baths are another, even more spectacular, spot where many huge boulders have come together to form a maze of tunnels and caves, both above and below sea level, which can be safely explored by snorkelling.  We picked up a mooring ball just outside, and readied ourselves to dive.  I took the GoPro, of course, and was a little surprised to see three largish sharks cruising along, maybe 20 yards away in the 20 feet deep water as I lowered myself off the rear swim ladder.  I managed to take some hazy video, as Dara wouldn't have believed me.  Actually she would, because we have seen more sharks since leaving Florida than we could have imagined, they are flourishing and everywhere.  Mostly the innocuous kinds, but one can never be sure unless you are an expert on shark identification, so we always give them a wide berth.  The remainder of the swim was full of the usual colourful reef fish and interesting shapes and contours under the water from the rockfalls.  This was a quick lunchtime stop and after drying off we started engines to motor up to North Sound, which is the northern-most part of Virgin Gorda to overnight anchor, ready to depart to Anegada the next morning.  North Sound is a large quiet bay close to Necker Island, the Caribbean home of Richard Branson - himself a famous 'Virgin'.  Anegada is an island about 12 miles north of Virgin Gorda and the furthest north of all the BVIs.  We had a relaxing but fast beam reach sail (wind coming directly onto the starboard side) all the way North, taking just a couple of hours.  Anegada is a little off the beaten track, having nothing much of interest other than solitude, fabulous beaches with white sand and clear seas. The island is flat, so uninteresting from that standpoint too.  We anchored off the beach at the west end of the island, where Dara remembers staying many years previously.  At that time there was a beach bar you could swim to called Wilfred's, and now we found in its place - Sid's.  Inevitably we made our way to Sid's bar - literally a bar in paradise - to find that Wilfred is still around but Sid had taken over, and upscaled, the little beach bar.  It actually was a beautiful place, with some lovely touches like marble tile floors, mahogany bar and a simple but delicious menu and cool drinks.  For me the best part was that Sid had partnered with a Belgian guy to set the place up, and so we found Belgian beers on site - Ommegang on tap, and Duvel in bottles including some double strength monastery beers.  Just lovely.  It was so lovely we went twice, in the evening the day we arrived and the next day for lunch after snorkelling and before setting off on an overnight sail to St Maarten - our next major port-of-call.

And so it turns out - Britain still has Virgins, and although they are not quite as virginal as they were when Dara was here back in the 90's, they still have a lot to offer, as any good virgin should.

Our pirate route,  plundering the British Virgins

The infamous Foxys beach bar in Jost Van Dyke

Caneel Bay in St John

The original Pusser's Rum bar in Road Town, Tortola

The mighty Painkillers at the aforesaid bar

We found Stowford Press cider!!!

The 'Willy T' boat bar in Peter Island

Sid's beach bar in Anegada - just a short swim from our anchorage

The Beating

The decision to set a course south of Puerto Rico from the Dominican Republic was not a bad one but it is hard to determine if it was the best route.  As we were headed exactly east of the big Island of Puerto Rico to get to the Virgin Islands on the other side, we could have gone either way.  It was 341.4 Nautical Miles of distance to do the northern route and 367.9 NM to go south, so not a big difference there.  The important question for us ultimately was how much of each route we can actually sail.  We have concluded from experience that the reality of sailing our vessel on long passages is best determined at sea.  In each case of the PR passage, it was doubtful that we COULD sail and if it was at all possible, we would be doing what is referred to as BEATING into weather or working to windward.  What this means is sailing a vessel close hauled (when the sails are trimmed in tightly) as close to the wind as will allow the sails to generate lift or propulsion forward.  Generally, the seas will also come from the direction of the wind and the vessel will be plowing into the waves and swells which will add to the BEATING.  Such was the case on our northern coastal exit from the DR in the first couple of days and 200 nautical miles which supported our decision to take the southern route, a route which also gave us the benefit of safe harbours and fuel if we needed it.  By the time we dropped south in the Mona Passage between the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico, we had only been able to motor sail, which was expected, and we were not making great speeds either.  We stopped to rest in Bahia Boqueron, a nice little bay in the very southwestern corner of Puerto Rico after 240 NM.  Here we were able to have a nice meal and good sleep before pressing on, which was a good thing because the next morning was when the real BEATING began.

So, yes, (in case you are wondering) of course we were monitoring the weather in all the ways we could and had internet and weather apps going before we left the DR.  We even had coastal WX VHF Radio broadcasts too, all telling us the same thing.  Winds easterly 15 to 20 Knots, Seas 3 to 5 Feet with a period of 7 seconds…blah blah blah, which, if that would have been true, is the usual weather pattern for this time of year in this region and completely manageable.  However, it was all MENTIRAS! (lies)!!!  It was 20 to 30 Knots of wind with waves of 4,5,6 and 7 feet and occasional swell sets up to 8 feet with not much period between the swells either.  They literately stopped the boat!  Each time we hit a set our speeds dropped to 2 knots which meant that we were not getting anywhere fast AND it was terribly uncomfortable.  We were getting a physical and psychological beating.  This is what we faced from the minute we rounded the southwest corner of Puerto Rico until we were past the island of Vieques on our way to Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas.  It was so bad that we were only able to make about 15 NM the first day and it took the whole day to do it as our average speed made good was 2.6 knots.  Remember, we can usually do 15 NM in 2/3 hours easily.  We tucked into an anchorage around the corner not far from Ensenada for the night.  The next day we got innovative and started early.  We had noticed that the winds tended to drop at night along with the swell and didn’t pick back up until mid-morning.  We set off at 0600 and I went straight back to bed once underway leaving David to fight the elements alone that day.  By now, and I need to interject two facts here:  1) David is perfectly capable of handling all situations on the boat.  He learned very quickly and is a competent navigator and sailor.  2)  I suffered a terrible burn on my left foot.  It happened at the previous anchorage when a pot of boiling water slid off of our induction plate and scalded me as I was standing near it so I was hurt and the rum I drank to ease my pain the night before was now causing other problems the next morning.  Unfortunately, by 1000 that morning, the same conditions of screeching winds and giant seas slowed us down again and we only made 3 knots of average speed and it took almost 7 hours to get to our destination of Isla Caja De Muertos again only fifteen miles away.  As David pointed out, he can WALK 4 miles an hour which was faster than we were able to move our boat!  Now, we were almost out of all the bargain priced fuel we bought in the DR and needed to find a fuel stop.

Frustrated, we set out again at 0600 and this time found lee (cover) from the big island as we headed for land to the nearest port that had fuel, Salinas.  We made 14 NM in a few hours this time and took on fuel in the tiniest marina built for much smaller craft.  We pulled onto the fuel dock which had a nice slanted landing in the high winds but needed full throttle reverse to get out.  That was fun!  I do love a challenge.  We decided to anchor for some rest so that we could take off again the same evening.  The harbour was small and protected and quite busy with fishing boats and jet skis.  Lots of music everywhere.  Here we saw the first of many casualties from the great hurricane Irma that ripped through all the northern islands in 2017.  Dead sailboats in the mangroves, masts sticking out of the back anchorages.  Tragic evidence of smashed dreams of adventures like ours.  It is disheartening.

We set off that evening only this time we were intent on a tacking experiment to find out just how far we needed to travel southward stealing as much ground to the east as possible before we could head back towards our intended course to Vieques.  At least, it would be more fun to make some speeds and actually sail and it would be so much more comfortable.  On our first tack southwards, we made almost 20 miles in 3 hours.  On our next tack to the north we made about 16 in 2.5 hours but we only made about 10 miles towards the direction that we wanted to go which was east.  The advantage was comfort and no fuel usage but it was still going to take us a long time to get to where we wanted to go.  We gave up after midnight and took in the sails and started both engines.  As it was mid-night the winds were starting to abate and the swells diminish somewhat so we managed about 3.5 knots toward our course until daybreak when we decided to try another tack.  We were able to steal more easterly ground this time and our final tack brought us to the western edge of the Island of Vieques and we motored the rest of the way to Esperanza and anchored in a pretty bay for the rest of the day and night.  It was a lot of work but we learned a lot about our catamaran and its ability to sail to weather.  It also had to be done.  My husband had a mathematical theory about equilateral triangles and given the constant of weather conditions why couldn’t we sail at greater speeds and vector towards our destination?  We would cover a greater distance but move faster and get to the same point more comfortably at about the same time.  Even though I knew it wouldn’t quite work out like that (especially after our first tacking experiment leaving Georgetown, Exumas), I couldn’t offer a good enough explanation to support my own theories and I admit, I was also curious.  We do know that Catamarans cannot sail at the close angles to weather that a monohull can but we wanted to find out exactly what our boat can do and now we know.  Oh, and that vector theory on tacking?  The results are directly proportionate to the direction and force of the wind and seas and the tendency is to push the opposite tack away from the destination point.  So, in some cases it might work, and then sometimes it’s just better to take the beating (the motor into it version for the shortest route).

And so it was that we eventually arrived in St. Thomas almost a week later.  It was a good place to be.  We needed a repair to our new genoa sail that had a rip in the sunbrella cover from the shrouds.  My foot had now blistered and I could barely manage to walk for a few days.  We picked up our packages of supplies at general delivery USPS free of customs!  Thank You a million times, Judy and Don!  We had new supplies and equipment to install and every imaginable food takeaway and hardware store and grocery available!  We dropped our anchor and stayed for a recuperative week.

I write this blog in keeping with our honest portrayal of our experiences owning and sailing a catamaran.  It occurs to me sometimes that our happy Facebook posts drinking cocktails in exotic locations is a lopsided impression of what our world is really about.  But I will say, those cocktails and those moments of peace are not only well deserved but thoroughly earned.  Sailing passages are work.  We are sticky and damp and covered in salt for days.  We get windburned and sunburned and we injure ourselves ridiculously.  Then we are exhausted by the time we arrive at our destination.  It’s all part of the great adventure!

Sailboat in unhappy position, Salinas.

Entrance channel to Salinas, Puerto Rico

3rd day swollen and blistered

Safe and sound in St. Thomas

One week later when it really started to hurt as the nerves regenerated.

One last note:  The islands of Caja de Muertos and Vieques were beautiful.  If the weather had been better and we had more time we would have done more exploring!