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!

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.)  

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