Just Too Many Virgins

Christopher Columbus is said to have named the Virgin Islands in honour of St Ursula and some 11, 000 virgins, who in the 4th century took their own lives rather than submit to being ravaged by invading Huns.  It is without doubt that these islands are fabulous cruising grounds offering safe anchorages, pleasant sailing conditions, beautiful vistas, and clear turquoise waters.  Not to mention a beach bar or several at every stop where the status of virgins is no longer discussed.

At least some nice days to be had in the Virgins!

Having set off from Puerto Patillas (yes, again and at night), we found the sailing conditions on the east coast of PR varied and in parts quite challenging, so decided to make directly for Culebra, in the Spanish Virgins – only a shade over 57nm away.  Sadly, development has not really enhanced what was once a charming stop-over.  However, it still offers a safe harbour that we were (almost) easily able to negotiate for a pre-dawn entrance.  

We settled in for a few days of rest and recuperation at Dewey Harbour then considered a daylight (but still early) jaunt through the US Virgins and British Virgins to a holding anchorage off Virgin Gorda (the fat virgin) giving us a handy springboard for St Martin, some 80nm south and the start of the Leeward Island chain.  The scenery through the US Virgins was delightful, conditions kind, but we had no time to stop.  Our US tourist permits were nearly expired anyway.

WJ3 and her happy crew then tracked over ancient ground.  It was here, in the BVI, that we started our cruising life some 15 years ago.  Development is not rampant, or perhaps it is better planned, so the islands still have that tropical paradise feel.  Charter boats however, have upscaled to modern catamarans and mooring buoys (for a daily fee) populate most anchorages.  There are few quiet bays with only one or two boats in them, even now, in this off-season.

More clear waters in the BVI's

Although tempted to dally in the amazingly clear waters of Gorda Sound, strong winds had been forecast for days ahead, so we made a quick decision to use the current light conditions to make a dash for St Martin.  “Well, perhaps we’ll stop in the BVI next time!” said GS.  

And so it was that we arrived in Marigot Bay late that night, after yet another long day’s mostly motoring.  Here, perhaps we could get our mast and main sail seen to so that at least, in future, we might do a little less motoring!  We've made it to the Caribbean...yeah!  Did we happen to mention those wonderful French patisseries here?  

And finally, St Martin reveals itself the morning after a late arrival in Marigot Bay
Yes, were had thrown out the hook just a bit far off the anchorage area... 

Big Steps, Don’t Look Back!

Eventually we had to leave our little Puerto Real hidey-hole and make a move (anti-clockwise) along Puerto Rico’s windswept south coast where anchorages are plenty, though mostly behind protective coral islands and reefs.  You’ve just got to get into them!  The Trades, of course, were showing signs of settling into their regular routine here – a jolly decent easterly blowing madly during the day (on the nose) and nightly calms.  That translates to sailing (well perhaps motoring) in unknown waters – at night.  On local advice and to ensure a Thornless Path*, we decided to leave early but not necessarily hit all the stops; just to get the mileage done in big steps…    

We left Puerto Real at 3am, rounded Cape Rojo to meet more relaxed, but still existent winds and, using the night island lee, arrived at our destination, Ensenada, before 9am in calm waters.  We were surprised to find a rural village with a peaceful anchorage tucked in the mangroves and all to ourselves.  Now this may have had something to do with the imposing fertilizer factory in the large bay next over, but, as with Puerto Real, it was nice to be amongst locals.  Roosters crowed, dogs barked, builders hammered a damaged jetty (and could they talk - in Spanish!) and vehicles roared by, but we slept on.  Then, naturally, we stayed an extra day to recover, and to watch manatees, with their big whiskery noses, snuffling about in the mangroves.  Oh dear! We were quickly learning about slowing down “island time”.   

Ensenada was once a well-off sugar producing area 

Our next departure was set for a slightly earlier (after-dinner) slot.  It was dark when we glided by Gilligan’s Island, not seeing much at all.  “Well, perhaps next time!” said GS.  The weather gods were kind to us though and we had a reasonable motor so gave Ponce (PR’s second largest city) a miss and made for Salinas.  Rather than attempt the narrow channel into Salinas in the dark, we threw out the anchor amongst the mangroves and yet again, crashed for some shut-eye.  A few hours later, the Cap’n guided us into possibly the world’s most challenging fuel dock before we re-anchored out amongst abandoned hurricane hulks, long-term live-aboards and more shy manatees to recover.  At least our Cap’n found time to relax here with a little spot of snorkelling over coral.

Salinas Sunset

Our final stop before tackling the challenging east coast was Puerto Patillas, once a quiet fishing village, now a local beach destination with Mr Whippy, local bars & restaurants, families celebrating Mother’s Day and the usual Sunday crowd out for a good time.  WJ3 became the go-to rounding mark for “I-can-go-faster-than-you” jet ski hire patrons.  Whilst we enjoyed the exuberant spirit of this crowd, we soon decided enough was enough and it was time to make a break for the hopefully quieter Virgins.  Well, not before well-wishers came by to bid us a cheery Mother’s Day too!  

Ahh! The early morning calm before the (Mothers Day) Sunday picnic storm...

After the flat, shelf-like coastline of Puerto Rico’s north coast, it came as quite a surprise to see the rugged south and east coasts.  Travelling at night had not allowed us to fully take in the lush landscape of this mountainous island.  “Well, perhaps next time!” said GS.  

*Bruce Van Sant's, 2006 “The Gentleman’s Guide to Passages South”.  It's a bit of a cruiser's bible now....sadly no longer published.  

Pickled in Brine

Cap’n and Crew stayed on a few extra days at South Side Marina to clean up, replenish food stocks and fix broken boat bits.  With the help of dockside neighbours, Aleisha and Doug, also Hunter owners, the Cap’n managed to remove the cranky main sail stuck firmly in the mast housing and pack it away, ready for St Martin and the riggers.  

Initially, we had hatched a plan to take the wide and easy Ships Channel south, then after making a quick fuel stop at San Jose on the northern side of Puerto Rico, island hop the Virgins to reach St Martin.  A consultation with the weather gods indicated the folly of that choice, so we set off around the northern side of Turks & Caicos in calm weather.  Over the days, winds steadily increasing in strength, and naturally, found our nose.  We had thought this traditional route might offer us a more direct course for the Virgin Islands.  

Easy?  Well, not really!  We spent 5 days, always with wind head on, bashing and crashing our way south east.  Then fuel became an issue.  At the weather’s worst, the engine cut out (fuel starved rather than empty tanks we later concluded) so we put out additional sail and adjusted our course back to San Juan.  Even that became a challenge given a night arrival, a busy harbour and our unknown fuel tank capacity.  So, we changed course yet again, put up more sail and ran downwind in the island’s calm night lee making for a protected Puerto Real on PR’s west coast.  Fingers crossed that the Mona Passage did not live up to its lively reputation and cause us further grief!  

After much effort, 5 testing days sailing and lots & lots of tacking, we made a sheltered, mangrove lined bay of Puerto Real.  What a relief!  With clothes and hair stiff with salt, we recalled learning at school that Admiral Lord Nelson’s body was shipped home in 1805, preserved in a barrel of brandy.  Instead, we have inadvertently gone for the cheaper pickling option – salt.  From our Med days, we recalled bacalao, a famously salt preserved fish that adds an adventurous aroma to Spanish markets.  After 5 days at sea, we were very salty and smelly too!  We threw out the hook, washed off our salt encrusted selves and then ate the best meal we’d had in days.  A medicinal rum (not brandy) aided a sound sleep.

There are other forms of helpful medication available too!

Next morning, our trusty Cap’n sussed out the nearby marina fuel dock and on meeting welcoming staff and friendly fellow boaters, booked us in 5 days.  The best health retreat we could imagine!  So here we sit, plotting our coming course through the Spanish and British Virgins; all in all, it will take much longer than we planned to get to St Martin.  Still, we are now officially on (Caribbean) island time, mon. Caramba!

Catch of the Day at Puerto Real 

Everyone has Comms...Until they Don't

Shroud Cay, Bahamas - brilliant, clear waters & lots of mischievous turtles! 

Greetings all from the beautiful clear waters of Turks Caicos.  We have just spent the better part of a day trying to clear out.  You know, one of those simple, easy to use online forms.  Every boat has wifi...doesn't it?  Hell no, and certainly not us. We (foreigners) couldn't even get a sim card for US phone services, let alone wifi.  

Anyway, it is what it is and we make do with cafe and marina wifi at infrequent stops along the way.  Updating the blog?  No chance just yet.  Your best source of "Where's Windjammer?" will be our Map and Tracker - a tab at the top of the blog that links you to a vague map covered in marching ants.  Entries will be made on it when we find somewhere to stop, and somewhere with wifi.

We find this situation highly amusing, if only to compare ourselves to the locals who have phones forever in their faces. 

Ingrid & Squiz, our guests for the Bahama Cruise segment, have just left for the Turks & Caicos airport so we will now have to manage on our own for a bit.  We also seem to be the only “crazy” ones heading south and the weather has been somewhat interesting so far this year… Next stop is Saint Martin, our longest sail yet (4-6 days straight) and naturally in winds coming from the direction that we are headed.  

Of course we needed a drink to steady our fraying nerves!
(WJ3 docked below in the Southside Marina)

Gone to the Dogs

We motored out of Georgetown using the challenging North Rocks exit, emboldened by a newly installed boat starter battery.  The turn to Rum Cay, our next anchorage though, was a bash into the wind.  Another day and another bash on the nose saw us then head for Atwood Harbour on Acklins Island with it’s challenging reef and an alarming night arrival.  At least it was calm in the morning and we enjoyed a swim in stunning, crystal clear waters.  

Atwood Harbour, Acklins & Squiz off for an early morning swim to the beach

The final Bahamas leg was to Abrahams Bay on Mayaguana where showing no relief, the wind found our nose.  So no sailing and no chance to dive on the coral bommies or check up on friendly Bazza Barracuda and Steve Ray then.  With one last heave ho, we crashed forth into the wind and headed south.  Finally, the Sandbore Channel took us straight into Sapodilla Bay and a less than calm, but none-the-less welcome anchorage for the night.  Turks & Caicos, we have arrived!

WJ3 all tucked up in South Side Marina, Providenciales, Turks & Caicos.

Other women it seems, still find the Cap'n attractive... 
Blackie insisting on a big hug & hopes of sharing a dinner or two

It was too late to try the challenging skinny and coral-scattered route to the South Side Marina.  Next morning then, on a rising tide we set forth, but still bumped at the green marker on our way in.  The depth measured 4.5 ft; our keel sits at 5.5ft. What?...How?  

Squiz enjoying the last of his Bush Crack (a Bahamian beer)

Finally, we were in a calm and sunny marina, although tying up to the dock was a rather less than gracious experience.  Bob & his four-legged side-kick, Miss Maddie and her mate, Blackie, were still in residence but no longer the owners.  Bob continues to run the Bar so we made very good use of it, especially after many, many days of home-cooked meals.  Mind you, Ingrid always cooked up a storm on-board, even when those nasty, rough seas caused some tummies to blanch.  Our guests were always good humoured, helpful and easy company, despite the rather awful weather conditions and long days of motoring, so we were sorry to bid them farewell.  

Fun on the high seas?  Perhaps better in a dinghy scooting through the cays.

The famous & colourful conch (said "conk"). It tastes like abalone.

Taking unused conch out for an overnight swim
at the beachside restaurant, De Conch Shack, Provo

Too soon, it was time for us to continue our journey down de islands…

Mayhem to Magic & Back Again

Somehow, we managed to locate a new outboard at a West Marine in North Palm Beach.  It was then time to make a quick dash for the marina at West Palm to pick up Ingrid & Squiz.  We think they were having a terrible time, left lonesome at the Tiki Bar (forced into a daiquiri tasting, perhaps?).  

Hey guys, come back!  We think you're on the wrong boat!!

The anchorage at WPB was appalling – washing machine conditions and certainly not the kind of “first time” experience you want for guests.  Finally, the Cap’n spotted a break in the weather (meaning a very early, early morning start) to make for West End, off Grand Bahama.  Indeed, the weather held and the crossing was so good, we kept going to Lucaya (near Freeport) and had a night at the welcoming Grand Bahama Yacht Club.  

The Exumas are so tiny they don't even rate a small dot on this map

Next day, with conditions holding, we moved on to Bullocks Harbour in the Berry Islands. Just for the heck of it, we found a rather cloudy blue hole to snorkel off Rat Cay.  Blue holes are sink holes in limestone islands or coral reefs and can be quite large and deep.  It felt eerie not to see the sea floor under us, but we did have company.  A school of inquisitive fish watched our every move.  We also didn’t have the anchorage to ourselves.  Just as the ICW had droves of boaters hanging about for a break in the weather, so too here, where many were also taking the opportunity to stage for a northward sail.  

This NASA satellite photo clearly shows the extent of the Bahamas Banks
and their shallow waters. (As compared to the Map of the Bahamas Islands above)

Rather than test the weather and sail outside (east) around the Berries, we decided to delicately pick our way across the shallow, coral strewn Great Bahama Bank, then pick up the magenta line for Chubb Cay.  We didn’t quite make it.  After a lovely sail, the engine refused to start, so the Cap’n and Mr Squiz (now called First Mate Squid) worked in choppy conditions for a couple of hours to get us underway again.  “Don’t turn that #@$&**% engine again off,” we all cried. “Make for the nearest landfall.  We want to get off!”  And so it was that we settled into a very swelly anchorage at Chubb Cay, then paid an enormous impost to have access to the island’s luxurious facilities.  I believe the Chubb Cay resort did serve excellent Mango Daiquiris from an infinity pool sunken bar.  Even better, their technicians managed to fix WJ3’s broken engine bit so we were able to move on to Nassau’s West Bay anchorage the next day.  The wind was, of course, on the nose and yes, the engine conked out again and we had to sail into the anchorage, pretending to be keen (sailing) purists. 

Whilst in this up-market neighbourhood, our guests sought the opportunity to check out the neighbours.  Julio Iglesias among them.  Adventures never-ending.  West Bay also offered an excellent and sheltered alternative to getting on the Exuma Bank.  The trip across to Norman’s Cay was easy and rather pleasant given our recent experiences, so we turned towards Shroud Cay (situated in the Exuma Land & Sea Park).  This delightful cay is no longer the remote Bahamas.  We anchored beyond a mooring field with many, many others.  Jet boats sped by, taking resort guests out for the quintessential Exuma, or Far Bahama, experience. 

Heading off to explore the mangrove creeks on Shroud Cay

Taking the fast ride out to the Atlantic at Mangrove Creek inlet, Shroud Cay

Even Paradise comes with a few surprise packages...  A wayward waterspout cames hurtling past our mooring field at Warderick Wells

After Shroud, we made an early move for Warderick Wells, hoping to snag a mooring in this peaceful spot.  Lucky us, we were given the last available mooring, #9.  Our entrance was less than graceful, having gone aground (temporarily) on the assumption that our Navionics charts were updated and correct.  Nope!  Not even close.  Finally, the Cap’n moved us off the sand bar and into deeper water.  We then took advantage of great weather to explore the island, snorkel, and meet the locals, huge iguanas (impersonating dragons?), turtles, rays and toothy barracudas.  

Welcomed back to Warderick Wells, mooring #9, by the locals

WJ3 & crew hangin' at Warderick Wells again 

Squiz led us on an island route march, looking serious in his Bunnings hat...

Yes, we found the blowhole at Warderick Wells.

Then it was time to meet the famous swimming pigs at Big Majors Cay.  The pigs have gone commercial and now have minders charging folks $10 to feed them.  Of course, the Jet Boats crowded in.  Early one morning, Squiz swam over and proceeded to exercise on their beach.  Like true Hollywood Glamour Queens, these porkers were determined to not show any interest in him or his showing off.  Staniel Cay was busier than Pitt Street and sadly, the weather & tide was against us for a snorkel over Thunderbolt’s Rock.  So, we moved on for Galliots Cut to wait the best time & tide for an easy exit out over the Cut, and gain an early start for the run to Georgetown.

Nurse sharks gather in great expectation near the fisherman's
cleaning bay on Staniel Cay

Georgetown is the centre of the universe for a wintering 300 to 400 sailboats & hot water boats of all shapes and sizes for at least 3 to 4 months each year.  Despite this, it is necessary to lug and dingy over jerry cans of fuel and water to replenish supplies on your boat.  I’d hate to see how those really big powerboats manage.  Still, we ate local and shopped for supplies too!  Yet, somehow and despite it all, Georgetown survives and manages to keep its Caribbean vibe.  

Trying out the local specials, conch salad & conch fritters. 
Lets not forget rum infused Painkillers!

Bahamian vibe in this colourful mural, Georgetown

Slow Drift

For sanity's sake, we stopped counting bridges
and overhead electrical cables along the ICW

Our second night tied to Coinjock Dock was a quiet & calm delight.  Well rested, we then began the process of running very long days along the ICW until we could (hopefully) find an inlet (preferably, a wide, shipping channel) out to the Gulf Stream and slip down the outside (i.e. along the coast) to our RV destination.  First exit considered was Beaufort, NC (winds too strong), then next opportunity was Cape Fear River (there’s that name again!) and still no weather relief.  Finally, we managed a good day, the GPS was working at last and we even had an outgoing tide to slide out at Charleston.  So out into the wild blue we charged.  All went well until the evening when winds and rain resumed from the north and we banged and crashed our way 140nm south until GS called for mercy.  No, she could NOT take a further punishing 100nm down to Fort Pierce, so early next morning, taking care not to tread on any more submarine tails, we entered at St Mary’s River near Fernandina Beach. Florida, we have arrived!  Oh my, but it's still rather chilly!

Stunning sunset over our Alligator River anchorage

A strong wind was howling over a busy Fernandina anchorage.  It was jam-packed with boats waiting to head north.  After 20 seconds of consideration, WJ3’s anchor was lifted and off we moved, further south along the ICW; the Cap’n clocking up 36 hours straight on this run.

During our gallop down the ICW, the cold refused to relinquish its hold so we found ourselves early one morning in Bucksport SC, cracking ice off the boat.  Further excitement along the ICW was had by a chance meeting with a rather interesting drone.  The owners, perhaps a bunch of university nerds, decided we were suitable guinea pigs for a little observational study.  It dashed off in a hurry, red lights indignantly flashing, when the Cap’n produced his phone to take a photo. 

Icing up in the fog at Bucksport NC on the Waccamaw River

There's a bald eagle on top of the large tree.
What do you mean, you can't see it?

We also managed to avoid going aground this year (phew!) but just past St John’s River we hit some very strong eddies under the Atlantic Boulevard Bridge, Florida that sent WJ3 into a bit of a spin.  Next challenge was finding ourselves in rather “skinny” water off Pine Island to anchor for the night.  Even a tow was having to be pulled off muddy river banks by tugs, causing much shouting by various workmen.  We didn’t feel so bad after all!

As for wildlife sightings, we were fortunate to see a couple of alligators this year, including a rather heavy-duty guy off the Haulover Canal near Titusville, not to mention seeing manatees (dugongs) wallowing in the warmth near our Vero Beach mooring.  

And we always hold our breath so as not to meet a tow
in the middle of the swampy Stumpy Pungo

The list of boat challenges however, became increasing longer.  WJ3 was letting us know she did not want to leave Deltaville and that she was also not happy having been left alone for 3 long, lonesome years.  By Vero Beach, we had our hardworking main sail stuck inside the mast, the dingy outboard refused to work, the bow thruster battery was as dead as a doornail, our little Waeco fridge was struggling to keep cold drinks cold (NO, not hot beer again!) and our poor Cap’n was working hard at every stop to keep us afloat and going south. No rest for the wicked, so they say! 

Still, it was not all bad as we eventually made Vero Beach Marina for a 5-night stay; a goodly time to rest and prep for the arrival of our guests in West Palm Beach.

Full Throttle

Spring has arrived in Urbanna!
Madly flowering cherry trees amongst the pines

Finally, the time came to untie docklines on the good life in Deltaville.  We had to drop south to West Palm Beach, Florida to pick up Ingrid & Squiz, who had bravely decided to join us for some down time in the Bahamas.  It was with great reluctance that we bid farewell to Dennis and his outstanding dockhands (Matt & Cage) at the marina.  Needless to say, we didn’t even make it out of Jackson Creek before discovering our GPS was not linking to our new iPad & thus the Navionics charts.  Hmmm…when in doubt, throw out the anchor…so we did!

Travelling the ICW rugged up for cold & rain

Initially, the GPS steadfastly refused to connect, so our trusty Cap’n set about connecting last year’s tiny burner phone in his steering console, and so with only Google guiding us, out we slid into the wilds of Chesapeake Bay.  Winds were blowing 20kts or more from the north; the seas short and choppy.  It was most unpleasant, but our Cap’n was happily in his element.  GS gripped on for dear life.  Well, we at least had a quick trip into Norfolk!

After some exciting moments following in the wake of a large and heavy tow along a new (to us) but much shallower channel into a bouncy Elizabeth River, then trying to ruin a new submarine’s first day out, we finally came to rest at Hospital Point anchorage.  Yes, the wind continued to blow a treat, right into the anchorage.  Just three try-hards on the hook, hoping our anchors held.  It was indeed a very sloppy night and worse, the dinghy could not be safely launched next morning.  

Let’s keep moving…

In a choppy Elizabeth River, Norfolk dodging subs
 - as one must in this vast Navy complex!

The Big Chill

Our challenges began when we arrived in Deltaville mid-Feb on what must have been heatwave conditions at winter’s end.  The following days however, had us rummaging firstly for the ONE hot water bottle & thermal underwear, then finally, puffy down jackets and our Nepal sleeping bags.  Given the chilly weather (daily temps 1 - 8°C) and only one bike to make the quick dash from the yard to the marina bathrooms, the crew rebelled.  A splash was quickly organised.  And a marina berth, bathed in sunshine and quietly floating on Jackson Creek, booked.  

All safely tucked in on Berth #12. 
Now for the Chores List... #1. The boat floats. Tick

From his Headquarters (Berth #12), the Cap’n began the task of going through all the “necessary supplies” he’d had mailed to "his" office.  Dennis and the lads had some breathing space in the Marina office at last!  Thus began two weeks of fun assembling various boat bits and parts, including a new, very speedy, bike.  And did I mention a new laptop?  His Dell decided it had had enough of boating life and had a complete meltdown.  Meanwhile, the battery in GS’s Dell decided not to hold a charge.  At all!  Brilliant….

We did manage to escape the daily grind with an offer by friends, Bill and Heather, to visit their pretty, new home in lovely Urbanna (meaning "City of Anne"), Virginia.  Heather cooked up a storm (as always), then we walked and talked our socks off, exploring their peaceful, riverside hideaway.  

Jolly good company & Rascal looking cute!

With new Marina staff, a new eatery on-site and a small gathering of fellow cruisers also tied to the docks, life was not dull.  It’s good to be back.