Showing posts with label marina. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marina. Show all posts

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Wrapping up Life in Moorea… and on Irie

Of weeks that fly by fast, this last one certainly made my top! With Mark slowly getting settled in the Boston area, I rounded up our life on Irie in Moorea. While initially, I enjoyed some more time sightseeing the island and meeting up with friends, the closer my departure date approached, the more I focused on Irie. For days, I cleaned up, organized, sorted, decided, packed, and cleaned – wood, ceiling, forepeak, cabinets, kitchen, bathroom, decks and cockpit.

Here are some photos of my final week in Moorea, French Polynesia: hiking to waterfalls with Christian and Birgit from SV Pitufa, reconnecting with Shane and Ava, friends from California I hadn’t seen in over ten years, and dealing with our boat.

Dusk over Tahiti, seen from Vaiare marina

Walk to find some waterfalls in Moorea's dramatic scenery

Where is the rest of the motorbike?

Baby waterfall in the jungle

Not much water flowing down this waterfall in Afareaitu, but tall it is indeed...

The water is distributed over three little falls on the bottom

This cute, sweet and smart dog showed us the way to the falls

What a pretty location to live!

The Intercontinental Hotel on Moorea

This is where I met our friends Shane and Ava, who visited Moorea for their 10 year anniversary

The set-up and setting of the hotel is pretty nice!

Catching up beach and lagoon-side

Visiting the Intercontinental for the afternoon felt like vacation!

Yummy dinner in the "Lezard Jaune" (Yellow Lizard) with Shane and Ava

Birgit from SV Pitufa making curry in Irie's kitchen

Another tasty meal in good company

A couple of days later, we were thinking big... Our goal was to reach the top of the highest mountain (which has a hole in it) or at least the ridge leading up to the peak.

We found a hidden waterfall along the way...

And some tropical scenery

When we reached this waterfall, we knew we had taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Not a bad turn of events, though

The real trail to the top was very challenging, with a steep climb, roots to maneuver through, up and over, or under, and slippery rocks to navigate

After an hour and a half, realizing we left way too late for this arduous hike, we turned back, without coming across any (anticipated) view, but it was a very interesting and beautiful walk nevertheless.

Hitching back to Vaiare from Afareaitu

Spotless forepeak on Irie

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Taina Marina Moorings: Beware!

The title of this blog could also be “A Boat Owner’s Worst Nightmare!” or “Irie’s Messed up Mooring Lines: Mystery Solved!” or “Ignorance is Bliss!” or “Hear me Out: a Reason to Complain?” but since the responsibility of our latest and most unbelievable revelation lies solely with Taina Marina in Tahiti, they deserve to be part of the title… in a BAD way.

When Mark and I left Irie in Taina Marina, Tahiti, on mooring ball A19 for an indefinite time (after Mark was diagnosed with cancer, we flew to the US for surgery and treatment), we made sure everything was as well prepared as possible in this particular and unexpected situation. We had heard that A19 was a newly serviced mooring ball after it had broken loose recently, something we saw as a positive thing, since we would be the only boat on this mooring and a very light and short one in comparison to other boats in the cruising fleet, so how would we be able to break a mooring suitable for a 40’ monohull? And we had attached three mooring lines through the loop of the ball: one forward off each bow and one “back-up” line in the middle. This set-up meant three things: it kept the ball in front and in the middle of our boat, so nothing was touching our hulls and our newly applied bottom pain, chafing of the lines was impossible, and in case one of the lines developed a problem, there were two other lines to hold Irie securely. Friends frequently checked on her in case something looked suspicious; the marina had their contact information.

On August 15th, Mark and I returned to our floating home, ready to settle back into our life on the water. We saw that Irie was lying slack against the mooring ball. Upon further investigation, we found a pile of mooring lines on the front deck and only one single line ran from one bow to the other through the loop of the mooring ball. From the moment our boat moved, the sawing movement would cause chafe to the one line and/or the loop (something every serious boater knows) with the potential danger of the line snapping and our boat being on the loose. And, the way this one line was tied (around the outsides of the bows!!), our boat was moving over the rope and all the new, expensive bottom paint we put on in Apataki in March, was being rubbed off! Needless to say, we were not very happy about this new found situation and the only thing we found out was that none of our friends were responsible. The neighbors in the mooring field didn’t reveal anything and when we paid our steep bill (which was already higher than expected, because they raised the weekly price when we were gone and did not honor the rate we had received) to the manager Philippe Olite, he took the money without any further information.

(For the people who are interested: catamarans pay double the rate of monohulls, despite the fact that we, at 35 feet, were awake many nights to keep an eye out when oversized monohulls – paying less than us – on neighboring mooring balls came inches from our boat during wind shifts and tidal changes. Price for a cat: 276cfp ($3)/foot/week or 551cfp ($6)/foot/month.)

What had happened to Irie’s mooring lines remained a mystery… until a few days ago. The catamaran Paradocs entered our anchorage in Arue and when passing our boat, one of the crew yelled: “Hey, I saved your boat two weeks ago in Taina Marina! It was just floating…” What?????? From the moment the new arrival had dropped the anchor and settled next to us, Mark and I took our dinghy over and requested more information. Around August 8th, Nicholas had come home by dinghy from playing ukulele elsewhere. It was about midnight when he saw our cat Irie “dragging” through the mooring field. The mooring ball and all three lines were still attached! He had banged on our hull, but nobody was home. Our boat was about to crash into another catamaran, so he urged those owners to wake up and together they fended Irie off just in time to prevent any damage. Then, Nicholas contacted the marina staff, who – begrudgingly because of the late hour – towed our boat to another mooring ball, where she stayed until A19 was fixed. Then, Philippe and crew put Irie back on that one, with only one line attached. And, he never told us about it!

Despite our initial shock and anger, we realize that mooring balls break. Shit happens! What we don’t understand is how Marina Taina did not take any responsibility for what happened, and how Philippe (“I don’t remember. Moorings break all the time.”) feels totally fine about not telling us anything and about the fact that we could have lost our home (“That’s why you have insurance.”). If the wind had come from the other direction, Irie would have ended up on the reefs. That being sad, we are very grateful that Nicholas saved our boat and that no serious damage was done. Discovering that you almost lost your house and way of life is quite the scare and our good karma for having saved at least three other cruising boats from crashing into shore or heading out to sea during our seven years on the water has been put to the test!

Monday, April 29, 2013

Leaving the Boat in Panama - What Can Go Wrong?


A developing country like Panama has its beauties and charms: the weather is always hotter than in our home countries, nature’s attractions are abundant and there are new adventures around every corner. But, when it comes down to efficiency, responsibility, and common sense, this Central American country has a long way to go. Having spent a whole year in this region overland in 2005-2006 and another twelve months this time around, Mark and I know what to expect – or better – what not to expect. Last year, when we started talking about leaving Irie in Panama for a couple of months, to take a break from the boat life and catch up with friends and family in the civilized world, we realized we should plan well ahead of time and do whatever we could to have things in order for ourselves and our floating home.

But… the longer we travel in this part of the world, the more we realize one important fact: no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you plan, prepare, organize, expect, and confirm, things will not go the way they should. This is the short story of sorting out our past summer visit to the United States and Belgium, just so people know what to expect when trying the same thing, or to understand what it means to “abandon ship” for a while. With a lot of patience, determination and acceptance, solutions were found, but that doesn’t mean we were totally happy with them!

Already in February 2012, we contacted the French owners of Panamarina, between Puerto Lindo and Portobelo to secure a safe spot. This is a small marina with only mooring balls, which fills up quickly. The only thing we got accomplished via email was a notification that there was no room. Not willing to give up and knowing people secured a spot later in the year, we visited the French owners in person, European style. This was the way to go and after a short talk in French, we had ourselves a mooring ball for the duration of our absence.  I confirmed the reservation orally and electronically and we were assured we could go ahead and book our flights. Which we did, all based on dates that would work with the marina’s bus transport and operating days/hours. We needed to make sure that we could leave Irie the day of our departure from the airport and get back to her the day of our arrival back into Panama.

A few months went by and we started looking forward to our trip “home”. Big was our surprise, astonishment and disbelief, when – a month before take-off – we received a blunt email (in my junk folder) from Panamarina, saying that they cancelled our reservation! The boat that was in “our” spot wasn’t able to leave, because of the owner’s disease. .. What??? A few phone calls to the Frenchies led to rudeness and us being treated very poorly, unprofessionally and disrespectfully. We were laughed at in our faces and had to find another solution, pretty much last minute. The expensive Shelter Bay Marina ($900 a month for our size boat; catamarans pay 1.5 X the usual amount and there is a minimum of 40 feet you have to pay for; we are 35 feet) was out of the question and the marinas all the way in Bocas del Toro were not part of our travel plans.

After a few weeks trial and error in the West Lemmon Cays in the San Blas islands, where cruisers have left their boat successfully the last couple of years, Mark and I secured a mooring ball in the much cleaner waters. A German guy was in charge of the friendly, reliable and well-running operation, while the Kunas were the owners and cashiers. His wife was known to vigilantly check on boats, air them out and make sure all was in order, while the owners were absent. Even though we never were able to meet the couple in charge (we sure tried and planned our departure around this) and we saved a dragging boat which barely missed us, the day before our departure, we were OK with the new solution, based on positive reports and experiences of other cruisers.

Everything was booked and planned ahead of time for our trip to the US, to little avail. We waited over an hour for boat transport to Carti, mainland Panama, where our assigned driver had already left. A different jeep driver brought us to our B&B in Panama City, trying to get more money out of us. The following morning, the “arranged and confirmed” (unbeknownst to him) taxi driver did not show up on time. We called him out of bed and with less than an hour to spare, he managed to swiftly drop us off at the airport. Thanks to Roger’s commitment and responsiveness, we didn’t miss our flight.

Once in the US and Belgium, we could breathe again, but not for long. After continued inquiries about how Irie was doing in the San Blas, we finally heard that the German and his wife were no longer there! Nobody was watching our boat during the heavy summer storms, lightning and winds, while irresponsible sailors were anchoring their boats on shelves surrounded by very deep water. Once an anchor would drag, the boat was free to hit everything in its path… When the subject of Irie came up in conversations, Mark and I stubbornly avoided the topic. There was nothing we could do from thousands of miles away. Towards the end of our western world visit, we had friends confirming that our floating home was looking all right and everything seemed in order. Pfew!

Upon our return to Panama, we shopped and stayed an extra night in the capital, before the jeep drive (not without complications and extra costs) and boat ride – all in heavy rains – to Irie took place. We were very happy to be back home and to find her in good shape. We found no extensive mold inside and the bottom was in the same shape as when we left. We managed to deal with all the hassle and best of all: we were back in paradise and ready to enjoy it!

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Dynamics in Southern Grenada

Prickly Bay in Grenada is a little bit our third home, after our real home (which I assume is the boat or Belgium or the States) and the lagoon in St. Martin. We have spent a lot of time here in previous years and it is always nice to be back. Once we get used to the rolly bay (at times) and the longer distances again, we are quite happy. There are less cruisers here than other years, due to the fact that calm Mount Hartman Bay has become more popular. Fortunately there are still some friends around. The two main bars De Big Fish and the Tiki Bar offer great happy hour deals and see us appear frequently

Monday, October 15, 2007

Time to Go












“A boat is big hole in the water, where you put money in.” Every boater is familiar with this saying, and… will fully agree with it. B.O.A.T. = Break Out Another Thousand. True as well. I can go on about this topic and come up with a few truths and statements as well, especially if it has to do with all the work and all the stuff that can go wrong, when you obtain a boat. I wont, though, since this is supposed to be a happy blog.


After living and working on the boat for a good three and a half months, we think we are finally ready to leave. We fixed all the problems, installed new electronics and gear, and made Irie a happy and clean girl. I think she forgave Mark for hitting her. He learned his lesson and suffered through wearing a cast for five weeks.


Tomorrow we will leave the marina in Edgewater, which was our home for over two months. The dogs loved it here, because of all the grass and beaches. It was a great place for them to cool off during those stifling humid summer months. Next time we spend a summer in Annapolis, we’ll get an air conditioner, though! We also met a lot of interesting people, and fit right into the soap opera life taking place every day. Maybe I’ll write a book or a story about it, one day.


The car is sold, the boat is equipped and provisioned, the dogs are washed and brushed, and we are mentally prepared to leave land, with the necessary spare parts. And just like that, a new adventure begins. The leaves are changing color, and we had to exchange our shorts and T-shirts for longer equivalents. It’s time to leave. We only have one mission: going south. That can’t be too hard…

For more stories about these last three months, check out

http://matadortravel.com/travel-community/united+states/liesbet/travel-blog