A Big Day Out

Side streets offered interesting heritage buildings too!

With the weather not being especially co-operative, we settled on a mooring ball in the huge field of St Augustine’s Municipal Marina for a few days.  It was a great spot to be, beside the Bridge of Lions, and very close to the walkable, historic part of town.  Ordering a phone sim to be sent to the office proved easy, as was finding a well-stocked boat bits store to keep the Cap’n happy.  We had less success locating a bank and a large grocery store within walking distance.  Although critical to maintaining crew harmony, we quickly dispensed with challenging chores for a better idea.  With time on our hands now, and a beautiful, sunny Florida day, we hit the tourist trail for a day of – oh, I don’t know – doing nothing but relaxing!   

Elusive Manatee - signage artwork

St Augustine was settled by the Spanish in 1565 and is considered the oldest continually occupied European settlement in the USA.  Henry Flagler, a wealthy and motivated industrialist, saw a business opportunity here in 1882, whilst on his honeymoon no-less.  Flagler built a series of resorts for the well-to-do, not only in St Augustine, but along the length of the Florida coast.  All connected naturally, by his Florida East Coast Railway.  

External features of Alcazar from Steam Room

Penny-farthings under Venetian Glass Chandeliers

We settled on exploring the Lightner Museum, once Flagler's 1888 Gilded Age resort hotel, the Alcazar.   Once resplendent with indoor pool, Turkish and Russian baths, ballroom and tennis courts, it attracted wealthy clientele.  Now a museum dedicated to hobbies and collections from the early 1900’s, it has a fine eclectic assortment including Tiffany glass, music room instruments, penny farthing bicycles, a stuffed lion, an Egyptian mummy, cut crystal glassware – the list goes on!  All staged against photos taken during those times.

The Pool in the Alcazar is now a Museum Cafe

We later strolled Old Town along pedestrian-only and very touristy George Street, eating ice-cream and thinking good thoughts about all the devoted grandparents pushing prams.  That was until a white fluffy dog popped its head up from under the covers.  Yes, it’s trending!  So, it was time then, Alice, to get back to reality.  We needed to knock a few more miles off our Mile 1018 start point total (from West Palm Beach.  Norfolk in Virginia is Mile 0 of the ICW) and judging by the northerlies and wild surf running at the St Augustine Inlet, an outside run up the coast was not an option.  GS sighed with relief

The quiet end of George Street. 
At least one dog was on a lead!

Skipping Shipping Hazards

Twins.  Let's Sea & WJ3 buddy up

Mike alerted us to a satellite launch from Cape Canaveral

Cap’n & crew arrived at Vero Beach Marina, thankfully in one piece, and settled in to marina life tucked away on a well-sheltered mooring ball.  Luckily for us, we shared with fellow Hunter 460 owners, Mike & Cala, on “Let’s Sea”.  So, much information was swapped and shared – and worse, new ideas generated!  The good times had to end, and after spending our time doing chores, shopping to replenish our sadly depleted larder, buying boat bits and doing repairs aplenty, it was time to move on.  We did wonder why we were the only ones heading north.  Still, those nasty, snow-laden fronts were at last, tracking well to the north, so there was some joy in that.  And our new Walmart tracksuits were proving just the ticket!  Given that we’d not had much “down time”, and a few more electrical issues had just cropped up (sigh!), we promised ourselves a few days respite in either Daytona or St Augustine.  

Flagship Towing to the rescue

Sadly, not everyone makes it though. Possibly hurricane damage?

However, ahead and lurking at New Smyrna Beach, was an infamous shoaled area of the ICW.  Even though we set forth in foggy conditions that morning, we managed to avoid it, so were feeling somewhat smug.  Its twin, half a mile further on, lay in wait though.  This time we became well and truly stuck on an unmarked sand bar in the middle of a supposedly dredged channel.  WJ3’s stern was in 8 feet of water, the bow stuck on 3.  Despite trying all the tricks of the trade to wriggle her off, nothing worked.  Worse, the tide was going out, quickly.  We’d become a shipping hazard in the blink of an eye!!

Then of course, out of the fog, along came the cavalry!  Flagship Towing must have been alerted to our plight and after some negotiations we settled on a fee for his assistance to release WJ3.  Our guy certainly earned his money, that’s for sure…  Finally, we were floating again, then carefully led through the danger zone without further mishap.  What a star!

In case you are wondering…  Yes, we had taken out towing insurance.  But had not yet been able to negotiate a sim card for use in the US, which = NO local phone.  (In Aus, we just about give sim cards away to anyone at Arrivals.)  Apparently, tow companies do not respond to VHF calls and who wants to disturb the Coast Guard?  So here we are in St Augustine, having successfully negotiated the equally hazardous Matanzas Inlet, shopping for a sim card.  Wish us luck!

Bridge of Lions at St Augustine

The Matanzas Inlet is a site famous in America’s pre-history.  In 1565, Spanish forces, led by Pedro Menendez de Aviles, defeated French forces, securing Spanish control of Florida for some 235 years.  Matanzas means “massacre” and we are pleased to say that, expertly negotiated by our Cap’n and charted by AquaMaps & Bob423 (our new charting system now in place), it was NOT another Tow Boat call out for us, this time. 

Ponce de León, the first Governor of Puerto Rico (1508), led in 1513 the first known European expedition of Florida.   Here in St Augustine, along with its remarkable Spanish Fort (1672), is a Fountain of Youth said to be discovered by de León.  GS sipped the waters in good faith in 2009.  After 17 years, she notes, it appears not to be working!  

St Augustine's character Lighthouse

That's the Bridge of Lions through today's fog...

The Shallows

Now, we’ve travelled the 1019 miles of Norfolk to Lake Worth ICW a few times since our first run in 2009.  It’s not our first rodeo as the Yanks like to say.  So, we are well versed in its challenging patches – the Georgia marshes, South Carolina’s shape-shifting, shallow inlets, North Carolina’s vast open bays and crab-pot lined channels.  Florida is never an issue.  Usually…  2024’s hurricane season saw much damage through this area and the Corps of Engineers, whose task it is to maintain ICW depths, have been stretched beyond their maintenance limits.  We use Navionics, paper charts and good ol’ Skipper Bob’s guide to anchorages (and nav alerts) along this waterway.  Even so, we still watch our depth gauge like hawks and stick to the magenta line (middle) of the channel.  

One of the 10 bridges encountered on our first day on the ICW.
At most of them, we had to request or wait, for an opening.

The Blue Heron Bridge (a fixed bridge), only a mile into our journey north, is known as a bit of an unspoken challenge, offering less than the prescribed 65feet above the water.  The marker indicated 64ft, we need 63ft to not crunch the mast & various antennas attached to it.  We sallied forth, having never hit before.  This time, the VHF antenna touched, bending well over, thankfully not breaking.  

Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse
Perhaps we should have been paying more attention to it?

Our first day on the ICW went downhill from there.  We hit bottom at Jupiter Inlet finding 4½ ft (our keel is 5½), the Captain’s favourite chair jumped ship in Hobe Sound (but was fortunately recovered and read the riot act), then nearly lost our way in the confusion of markers, shoals, and skinny water in St Lucie Inlet crossing, and found ground at the Jensen Beach designated anchorage, supposedly 7-8ft, finding 3 ½.  Thankfully, our trusty Cap’n used a passing wake to hobby-horse WJ3 back into the ICW.   The up side of the day, was manatee watching whilst we waited for the Indiantown Road Bridge, and spotting dolphins, jumping rays, turtles, and loads of birdlife along the way.  Plus, it was warm.  Spring is in the air – well, at least in Florida!  

A well cared for (possibly historic) home along the waterway. 
Note the widow's walk fenced in on the roof top. 
Here, a Captain's wife would watch out to sea for his ship to come home. 

Fort Piece then, was our last chance for an anchorage before nightfall.  We chose to shelter in the protection of Causeway Island and nervously negotiated our way off the ICW.  Needless to say, we misread the channel's green and red markers before finding deeper waters. (Red, right, returning - only we weren't at the time -oops!)  WJ3's anchor was set just on dusk – at an early 6pm.  We had travelled over 50nm in 10 hours, negotiated 10 bridges and some seriously shoaled rivers & inlets.  Florida is supposed to be the easy part of the ICW – just what was in store for us over the next 3-4 weeks before Norfolk and Chesapeake?  Vero Beach was only 16nm away.  We couldn’t wait to get there!

Joy Ride

Approaching the WPB Inlet.  Welcome back to the Unites States!!
If we had broken down, GS was prepared to swim the rest of the way in...

Just inside the West Palm Beach inlet is a huge anchorage area, Lake Worth.  It is bustling with freighters, cruise ships, barges pushed by tugs, tour boats, sail & motor boats and pleasure craft of all persuasions.  Marinas line its shores; posh ones for the superyachts, facilities for racing boats, marinas for regular folk and heaps of yards.  Everyone who has a waterside home along the ICW seems to have a dock and some kind of watercraft too.  Boating is big business in the US.  

Looking south from our anchorage in Lake Worth

Lake Worth is also busy with hundreds of sailboats and motor cruisers either waiting for a crossing window to the Bahamas/Caribbean or just sitting out winter in Florida’s sunshine.  Luckily, we found a decent space not too deep into the waterway, set the anchor in waters unaffected by ocean swell and celebrated our arrival watching the sun set.  A Margaritaville Cruise (a 3 day, booze, food and casino getaway) headed offshore and trains arced up those compulsory, loud, lonesome, night whistles that can be heard all along the ICW.  

Water Tank near our lunch stop

Our plan was to visit Immigration & Customs at the Port in the morning, settle our cruising permit, then have a long lunch sitting in the sunshine by the dock at the Tiki Bar, renown for it's Mexican food and giant cocktails.  We looked forward to easier motoring/sailing conditions heading north along the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway (ICW).  A quiet Vero Beach Marina mooring, 2 days away, was in our sights for a week of repairs, rest and recovery.  Well, that was the plan… 

Panacea for the Soul

These guys, a dive boat, wanted fuel too.  Oh oh!  We were squeezed off the dock.
They had better wait in line or we might miss out

After a few days rest, it was back to chores, including refuelling for our next leg to the Bahamas, so opted to refill at South Bank Marina.  To buy fuel, you must check in & out of the country.  Fortunately, this process can be done at the Marina by very friendly officials.  Unfortunately, by the time we were processed, the Fuel Dock hands had finished work for the night.  So, we stayed tied to the dock and had a night at the marina before refuelling and heading back to Sapodilla Bay to re-anchor.  

Then the Cap'n thought of a way to distract them...

Having sworn off overnighters after our previous adventure, we realised that an overnighter would get us to George Town in the Bahamas in two days, rather than taking 5 day sails.  So, let’s get this over with!  Out the Sandbore Channel and over the precipitous east bank, we were on our own again, except for a huge cruise ship, not easy to miss, lit up like an over-decorated Christmas tree.  This year’s weather has certainly put many early season arrivals off. 

Sailing at night by the light of a full moon.  The owl & the Pussycat...

And really calm waters off Long Island & Gun Cay, Bahamas

We rounded Cape Santa Maria, Long Island, in the late afternoon, day 2.  Named after one of Columbus’s ships, there is a monument to Columbus atop this rugged cliff.  It is said the local Lucayan Taino lasted only 15 years after their encounter with the Spaniards.  Others say that there is no evidence of Taino in the Bahamas at all.  So, rather like the differing opinions over Columbus’s actual voyage through the Bahamas, facts are few and stories many.  Still, it gave us something to muse on as we anticipated a night meander through the challenging, reef-lined East cut into George Town.  At least we had the light of a full moon and calm seas to help guide us in.  And the anchor lights of at least 150 other cruising boats

Just a few at anchor off Stocking Island, George Town.

The next morning, it was time to check in, pay for a $300 cruising permit, then after a round of the supermarket with not a lot in it and a lugging a few jerrycans of fuel (no fuel dock in this busy, busy harbour), we headed out for Galliot’s Cut to get onto the Exuma Bank.  Luck was with us and we had an ingoing tide and no wind, so made a dash for Black Point Settlement to see if we could buy engine oil there.  We bought out their supply, then moved on to Shroud Cay.  Sadly, there was no time to do another motor through this extensive mangrove system to look for rays, sharks and turtles.  Early next morning, we crossed the bank to anchor for a very choppy night off Nassau at West Bay, hoping for a weather window to allow us to get to Bullocks Harbour and then Lucaya.  Here we planned a short stay at the Great Bahama Yacht Club.  Here we could shop for groceries, wash clothes and otherwise be presentable on arrival in the US.  Before we could leave however, we had to pay a $75 departure tax. 

Sunset over the Exuma Bank and another night arrival!

Mail Boats (blue hull) bring much needed supplies across the Bahamas. 
Black Point Settlement in the Exumas, now in need of more engine oil...

Tied up in a cosy slip late in the afternoon at Grand Bahama Yacht Club

So, it was with some anticipation, we headed off to cross the Gulf Stream for West Palm Beach.  It was a smooth ride, with both wind and current assisting our passage to, unusually for us, make a daytime entry. 

Not before having a spectacular sunset farewell from GBYC

(For those wondering, travelling rapidly has meant many of our photos are taken at the start or end of the day.  In some places, we haven't even had time to get off the boat, and it's now too cool to swim.  Day photos are mostly open ocean, so totally boring.  We hope to do much better along the ICW.)  

Weather Games & Water Torture

Puerto Real Marina, small but very friendly.  Note overcast skies...

Having bid the hurricane season farewell, we did not expect great swathes of fronts crossing from Alaska, bringing storms, unsettled seas and snow as far south as Texas and Georgia.  Warm waters of the Caribbean were not unaffected, and finding a weather window in this milieu to get us to Turks & Caicos, a three-day exercise, was proving difficult.  Finally, an exasperated Cap’n decided, we could leave now with following winds, or wait for another two weeks.  So, we upped anchor and left.

Our voyage started off well in the protection of the reef, but the Mona Passage, between Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic, has something of a reputation being a regular conveyor belt of storms into the Caribbean Sea.  Other than increasingly strengthening winds, we were indeed, in a following breeze and making good time.  The problem was, wind and swell continued to increase with the onset of the evening and when the Coast Guard issued a “small ships alert” (winds 18-34kts and seas 7 to 10 feet), we knew we were in for a beating.  It was about this time, that the autopilot relinquished command of the helm, and the Cap’n had to hand steer.  We had come too far to turn back, naturally, although at one point we did consider running back to Luperon in the DR, however continued on for Turks Caicos in the hope that these large banks would offer some shelter, eventually...

After 48 hours at the helm, GS took command (and her head out of a bucket) and learning how not to steer in great loops, managed, with the aid of the compass, to head in the right direction allowing our good Cap’n a few hours sleep.  The seas were starting to ease, whales wintering off the Mouchoir and Silver Banks, had better things to do than disturb us, and we only had to dodge 3 local freighters.  Why is it that we only pass them at night when they’re ablaze with confusing lights!  

The third day saw us in much improved conditions although we were still hand steering.  Our approach to the south Caicos Bank though, would be at night.  Having taken the wider Ship (freighter) Channel over this coral strewn bank once before (in daylight) we felt confident (well, sort of) heading for this channel entrance.  Naturally, an hour out, the engine stopped!!  So, we wallowed about, GS keeping a shipping watch, while the now very, very tired Cap’n managed to get us underway again.  Replacing the fuel filter did the trick.  All of us, WJ3 and crew, had had enough by now. 

Over the precipitous bank, from 2000ft of water into 12 is also unnerving, but we followed the channel by our chart’s magenta line, hoping not to meet any more commercial traffic.   Needless, to say, by this stage, we were both hallucinating.  So, we carefully threaded our way through the commercial anchorage, around a bommie strewn reef, then with huge relief, into Sapodilla Bay, busy with fellow cruisers. 

Next morning, our Cap’n shouted, “There’s no one here.  Where did they go?”  We stood staring at stunning turquoise waters as far as the eye could see, and other than a freighter at the nearby Port, we were the only ones at anchor.  

Sapodilla Bay.  Nobody anchored here for sure

Looking back to the Ship Channel.  No-one there either!  
If your wondering, that's a Starlink receiver, used at anchor.
Gee-whiz technology for cruisers

Diving, No Diving; Marina, No Marina…

Although tempted to stay and explore Puerto Rico further, home was calling and we needed to keep moving.  Having said that, we declared an additional stop at La Parguera.  A party town with miles of fringing reef, had been squeezed into the itinerary.  Cap’n Diver Dan was keen to put the snorkel on and perhaps find a stray lobster or two.

Just how did all that water get into the outboard fuel, hmmm?

After anchoring, and wasting no time, Bruce the Brave was launched and off the Cap’n putted in search of ice.  Perhaps it was to keep our (possible) lobsters fresh.  Who knows?  The outboard had different ideas and there was our Cap’n adrift.  Thankfully, some kind hot-water boaters undertook the rescue mission, and stopped to give him a tow back to WJ3.  

Bruce wasn't going anywhere for now.  The nearest coral reef had a couple of mooring balls free but were they adequate to hold WJ3’s tank-like build?  Also, it was a very popular spot with lots of folks in the water.  Maybe not quite the dive the Cap’n was hankering for.  So, we stayed put near the boat ramp, and after the evening’s “back to the boat ramp” rush hour, we settled down for a very still night.  

La Parguera, quite the busy holiday town and our very calm anchorage

We have failed to mention a rather intriguing observation.  GS had noticed a rather large zeppelin floating above Puerto Rico’s south west corner.  With spy balloons and hovering drones recently seen in American skies, this rather plump floater seemed suspicious.  GS took loads of photos.  Nobody else seemed the least bit concerned.  From our anchorage in La Parguera, it became apparent that the blimp was tethered, and by nightfall, had been pulled back down to earth.  We later found out is indeed a tethered aerostat radar system (eyes in the sky or as someone called it, Fat Albert!) for the Coast Guard.  The Coast Guard certainly needs all the help they can get along this coastline. 

Strange creatures and a blimp in the skies

Cape Rojo, Puerto Rico's scenic south-western point

Next morning and lobster-less, we rounded Cape Rojo with its stately lighthouse and sallied forth squeezing between another extensive reef and the coast, making for Puerto Real.  Christmas bookings and a continuous flow of Caribbean bound vessels meant our chances of a stay in the marina were slim, so we happily stayed on anchor.  Meanwhile, we refuelled, purchased a new battery for the bow thruster, revitalising it, and feasted on lobster caught by local fisherman but expertly cooked by our Cap’n.  All the while, hoping for a weather window suitable to get us, in 3 days, to Turks Caicos.  This was to be our last big “at sea” experience.  No more over-nighters once there.  Famous Last Words!!

Cooking with the Cap'n & one spiney lobster

And all 6 lbs. beautifully cooked too!

Doing the Tonne

What do you mean, your not reading the blog!!
And just who is driving the boat?

We are currently hunkered down in a marina in the Bahamas waiting for a weather window to cross the cranky (at times) Gulf Stream to West Palm Beach.  So, there’s been time to update the blog, even if it’s just the words for now!  Here’s the latest…

Early in January 2025, our WJ3 site views from 2011 reached 6 figures!!  We’ve reached the stars; just over 100,000, all gold to us.  Now, we’ve said we are not in it for fame or fortune, but it sure was nice to know that so many friends are sailing downwind with us and we sincerely appreciate your support.  

Here’s a story for you!  GS’s dad, who lived on Bribie Island, Queensland (Australia) went to the corner shop for his usual Sunday newspapers.  As he stood in line he got chatting with a neighbour and for whatever reason talked about their plans for the rest of the day.  Dad’s neighbour was going home to catch up on blogs he was enjoying and he told Dad about an Aussie couple on a boat travelling round the Mediterranean.  My Dad said, as he listened to the story, he realised that his neighbour was talking about us, so they shared a good laugh over that one!  Isn’t it such a small world…

For those wondering, this figure does not include our Early Years (link to site on tab above) from 2008 to 2010, now old news but certainly part of our story.  These figures aren't accurate anyway, given our flight across platforms Vox, Typepad, then Wordpress (too geeky for us) to finally settle for the simple life on Blogger.  

For those also wondering about our future sailing plans, then the news is that we, having considered all sorts of options, including the Great Loop again, are simply going to bounce around the East Coast of the US, keeping Miss WJ3 tidy and in trim in her (and our) dotage, and catch up on places we haven’t visited or some that must be revisited.  (Maine lobsters are wanting to get to know us again, for sure!)  So, it’s simple, easy sailing we want, combined with a bit of land travel where-ever that whim takes us; so, nothing too complicated or fussy.   

Thank you so much for enjoying the ride along with us.  And keep reading!

In Search of Mythical Creatures

Puerto Rico's southern coast, seen from the safety of a wide channel

Next morning, we left Sun Bay escorted on our way by a small pod of dolphin.  We had a cloudy day but a beautiful, easy sail to Salinas, Puerto Rico.  We came onto the bank through the Boca de Infierno (don’t they have such eloquent names?), wondered about people walking over some of the surrounding reefs, and made our way through a barrier reef/island and mangrove swamp protected channel to an anchorage off Cayo Mata.  

A very calm and pleasant anchorage off Salinas. 
Manatees did not grace us with their presence this time...

These waters are mangrove fringed, murky and shallow.  Dotted with character boats (some are wrecks and it’s a miracle they still float), we squeezed in trying not to have WJ3’s bottom hanging too far into the channel, busy with local boats and jet skis.  We had hoped to catch sight of the elusive manatees (dugongs), with the Cap’n noticing maybe, a nose, a whisker and a splash as it quickly took cover.  No singing, so it couldn’t have been a selkie.  No wonder it fled really, as we looped round and round the bay like loonies, trying to release the main.  Yep, stuck in the mast, yet again.  Isn’t sailing such fun?  “At least,” said our trusty Cap’n, “I’m getting fitter.”  Great… 

Sunset & Cayo Mata behind WJ3

On a mission to keep moving, our next stop was Guánica, a pleasant anchorage we found on our way down last year.  A family, on their way home form a day at the beach, came over and invited us to their New Year’s celebrations.  The father worked part of the year in the Med, delivering newly constructed sailboats to new owners.  It was a lovely gesture from a fellow yachtsman, and certainly confirmed Puerto Rico as the friendliest Caribbean Island we had visited.  Midnight arrived, as did the New Year, and this tiny community exploded in a firework frenzy, all done locally at their own expense, with readily available fireworks.  No, nanny state stuff, just good old common sense, and parental guidance.

Rusting skeletons, like a Mad Max stage setting,
dot the mangrove foreshore in Guanica

(Selkies are mythical sea creatures that can transform into women by shedding their seal skin.  They are also said to have beautiful singing voices according to Scottish & Irish folklore. So perhaps it's a tad too warm for them here in Puerto Rico.)  

Head ‘em up, Move ‘em out

Dolphin escort out of Sun Bay

We had a very pleasant sail south to Vieques (vee-AYE-case) then turned west with the Trades behind us.  So, so much better than fighting into them!  Our plan was to anchor for the night and we wanted a protected cove on these southern shores.  We had at least Bruce Van Sant’s cruising guide (getting a bit outdated now) of this area so were able to cruise close enough to shore to avoid snagging fringing reefs or fish pots.  

One of the first signs that you are back in American waters is the regular VHF radio Channel 16 updates on weather conditions by the US Coast Guard.  How civilised it is to know that there is an organisation looking out for us boaters – big, small, motorised or sail.  On the way to Vieques we heard a “Pan-Pan” call for a person seen in the open waters some miles north of St Croix.  This brings home the often too casual approach boaties seem to take with their activities.

Vieques is a former firing rage used by the US and NATO for land, sea and air war games.  The Range has since been closed and developers held at bay, perhaps given the arduous task of cleaning up munitions.  This small island seems remote and isolated, yet lush with tropical green landscapes set against white sandy beaches and clear turquoise waters.  A community of locals has been described as proud and fiercely independent, as they should be, given their dedication in securing Vieques from the ravages of munitions and perhaps developers.  

We found an anchorage in Sun Bay, near to the fishing village of Esperanza.  A picturesque, coconut palm fringed beach (public at that – wow!) stretches in an expansive mile-long curve.  We had the company of two other friendly boats at anchor in this picture postcard bay.  Our only criticism was that someone had turned off the heater.  Our last swim had been in Marigot Bay when the Cap’n cleaned WJ3’s bottom, filthy after 3 weeks in the lagoon. GS jumped in then too, for a quick dip – the water then as now, was certainly no longer tropical!

View from our anchorage of a very small section of pretty Sun Bay

Just to our east are the famous bioluminescent bays of Vieques, Puerto Ferro and Puerto Mosquito.  They are strongly phosphorescent and best seen at night.  Steps have been taken to keep them in pristine condition, so no anchoring and certainly no diesel or petrol engines allowed in these mangrove-lined bays.  The Dive Shop at Esperanza organises tours or you can paddle in.  As we don’t carry a selection of water toys and had a prior experience of it - out fishing in Simpson Bay on a full moon evening back in 2008 - we didn’t linger to see it.  Mind you, it is a curious natural phenomenon, fascinating to see little firework displays exploding around your dinghy as they rise from darker deep water below.  So much to see and do.  Ah, if only the Motley Crew were on holiday...  

Saint Martin: Saint of Broken Boats

Sint Maarten's Bridge across the Lagoon dressed in Christmas Best

Somehow almost 3 weeks vanished.  Simpson Bay Lagoon must be the Caribbean’s answer to the comely bird-women whose charming voices lured ships and sailors to an untimely end.  We didn’t end up on a rocky shore but rather too easily filled the time doing routine chores like food shopping and laundry, including a challenge to spend well above our lifting limit in Island Water World.  And then, there were the inevitable boat repairs.  We found Mike the electrician again, to help with AIS and VHF radio stuff but compensated by making a special effort to dine regularly at Lal’s – for the best Indian curries & garlic naans this side of India.  We marvelled at the gathering crowd of superyachts, then commented on the challenges for them.  It must be de rigueur to have at least 3 bunny ears (satellite domes) in colours to match the hull and a crowd of staff (also dressed to match) to wash acres of windows and keep a stable of water toys in good working order.  Too much work…give me one cranky Cap’n any day!

Yes, we are really leaving Sint Maarten, for now...

Eventually, a suitable weather window opened for a comfortable ride across to the BVI.  We paid our dues, refuelled, and then make the 10.30am bridge lift to once again meet this season’s swell out in the real world.  Our plan was to anchor for the night on the French side in Marigot Bay, then at some ghastly early hour, up anchor and make for a daylight arrival at an anchorage off Prickly Pear Island.  Serious coral reefs lie off Virgin Gorda (the Fat Virgin – thank Columbus for that name!) and are best negotiated in daylight. 

We had some sun but a stiff breeze to traverse the BVI's

We didn’t linger in the BVI, though made a detour to take in the famous Foxies Soggy Dollar Bar on Jost Van Dyke, but didn’t stop.  Not only was a cruise ship anchored off, but the bay was cluttered with mooring balls, reputed to cost 30 to 40 USD per night.  Indeed, the BVI generally has tuned into mooring fields to accommodate growing numbers of charter fleets, mostly catamarans.  Cheap cruisers (like us) now need to search hard for suitable anchorages.

Made the anchorage in Culebra just on dark.  Luckily it wasn't busy!

Culebra, in the Spanish Virgins, and a favourite laid-back anchorage, was in our sights.  Thank goodness, it was true to form and we settled in for a few days to recover from our crossing of the 2300m deep Anegada Passage with it’s mean reputation.  Thankfully, it was a pussy cat for us – this time!

The gathering of the fleet for an after-caroling party. 
It was really nice to see some sun too

We arrived in Culebra’s Ensenada Honda on Christmas Day and were pleased to find it near deserted; just a handful of cruisers and a few local boats on moorings in a calm and well protected spot.  Mr Resident Turtle swam by so we took that as a sign of approval.  After a few days rest, we made (well, changed) plans.  Rather than take the more direct 4-day route from Culebra to Turks Caicos, we’d skim and day hop Vieques and Puerto Rico’s southern coastlines ending in a short stay in Puerto Real Marina with time perhaps to explore ashore (Walmart then old San Juan for GS and West Marine for the Cap’n).  The marina is on Puerto Rico’s west coast and, with easy access through the tricky Mona Passage, we could take a day off our sail plan to Turks Caicos.  That was the theory, anyway!

That settled, we prepped for an early morning departure.  Locals though, had other plans.  It was Sunday and we were woken very early (4.30am) to a rousing chorus of Christmas carols, Latino style, at a boat dock by the foreshore.  Eventually, GS went to find out what was the go!  The dock was filling with local craft all decked out with Christmas lights and decorations.  A party was well underway.  Jet skis buzzed about looking like floating slippers.  At 5.30am, with carols and the hum of boat engines ricocheting round the harbour, the fleet assembled in line and the Christmas Boat Parade took off for a very leisurely, if somewhat unsteady, round of the bay.  Not a neighbour or house seemed to miss out on a personal round of Feliz Navidad (Jose Feliciano from the 1970’s).  So simple, yet such an inspiring event full of neighbourly bonhomie.  

Culebra's 2mile deep harbour is well protected by surrounding reefs. 
Remind me.  Why are we leaving?

As we were now up early anyway, we up-anchored and headed off for Vieques with the sounds of Feliz Navidad ringing in our ears.

(Photos to follow, we are trying to share one working computer.  I knew we should have stopped at Walmart...)