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!