A Challenging Start Going South

Two and a half years. That’s how long it took me to finally realize (and admit to) the fact that cruising totally depends on the weather. As a traveler, I always decided where I wanted to go and how long I stayed. On a sailboat, forget it! People have this “funny” perception that sailing on your own boat means freedom. Where did they get that fantasy? It is the wind that decides where you go (unless you don’t mind bashing into steep waves, barely moving and wasting loads of diesel) and it is the comfort of an anchorage that makes one stay or leave. No longer do you choose where to visit.

Most cruisers are smart and they take this very fact into consideration when they plot their trips and pick their anchorages. Most of the time, Mark and I calculate that fact in as well. Except when I really want to see something. In this case, I fancied a visit to the lesser known Caribbean islands of Statia, St. Kitts and Nevis and Montserrat. The fact that we never plan to be back in this area fueled our decision.

The day we left St. Martin, Irie pointed at Statia, under sail. Sure, the current would set us some, but we figured we could make it pretty close to where we needed to be. But, because the first bridge opening on the Dutch side didn’t take place until 9:30 am, we had a late start and wouldn’t make it before customs and immigration closed. The weekend with non-working officials followed, so what was the point of going if we weren’t able to check in? So, we changed direction and headed for St. Barth. We sure could use a few days of relaxation before being active explorers again.

After many hours of sailing on the opposite tack, we found ourselves not too far from our starting point in St. Maarten and ended up motoring to St. Barth. What a waste… Together with our friends from Alianna, Tatia and Imagine of Falmouth we did get some quiet time and fun evenings before the “final” departure. We called ourselves the “Grenada Armada” and all took a different path southwards.

It was very easy to sail to Statia, for some reason the only island around, being covered in clouds. From the moment we rounded the northern corner, a torrential downpour started, making it difficult to see the oil tankers and mooring boys off the coast. We managed to safely get to Oranjebaai, the only anchorage and a marine park, which is hard to believe, based on the oil industry and frequent tug movement. Other cruisers had warned us: Statia is very rolly! Well, what do you want me to say: They are right. The mooring balls are located as if in the middle of the ocean and the only place to anchor wasn’t much better. The whole time we were there, Irie pitched and rolled and pretended to be a washing machine. Too bad we had to be the clothes! Three foot waves made up the swell, walking around was impossible without hitting our heads or other body parts and stepping on the bottom step of the boat was dangerous. Getting Darwin in and out of the dinghy became the most challenging task of the day. But, we succeeded. The plan was to spend more time off than on the boat. Because of the non-stop rain, that didn’t happen the first day. We tried to venture in town once and came back totally drenched. Now we were wet clothes being put in the machine again.

The second morning of our stay, the three of us hiked through the forest to The Quill, the rim of Statia’s volcano. The lack of sun made it possible for Darwin to join us and everybody enjoyed the exercise. I climbed an extra steep trail for an OK view, before we headed back to town. Mark had an appointment, in person arranged at 7 am that morning, at the doctor’s office in the hospital to get his sore throat looked at. When he found out how much the cost for the consultation would be, he decided to be in pain for a few more days. The long quest for a doctor started…

A big attraction in Statia is its capital, and only town, Oranjestad. Old, historical buildings and ruins are scattered throughout and the history is explained on signs. Fort Oranje sits picturesque on a hill and wherever you look, a charming house calls for your attention. People are very friendly and greet one another constantly, with a wave, a nod or a short honk. The visitor is part of the happy small town mentality from the moment he sets foot ashore. Darwin never had a problem to join us.

St. Kitts and Nevis were our next destination. Very rare south-southwest winds were predicted, the anchorage of Basseterre was very uncomfortable and our plan was to spend a few days in the marina of the capital, something we hadn’t done in over two years. It would be a bit of a spoil (being able to walk to town, jump onshore with Darwin and enjoy a decent shower!), and we heard that the price was right: 50 cents USD a foot, which would be about $18 a night for us. We had one issue, though, would Darwin be allowed on shore? For months, I tried to communicate with the Department of Agriculture and once, back in January, they told me to send his documents by email as a start of the process. By now, after multiple emails to the same address, I hadn’t received any answers to my questions and all the health documents were in their possession. We would have to see what happened…

After a motor trip dead into the wind, over the choppy sees, after two sleepless nights in Statia, we managed to secure a spot in Port Zante Marina. Mark tried to obtain information about the dog policies before checking in, but that didn’t fly. Nobody knew anything and he had to proceed with the check-in process and pay all the fees, regardless. When somebody finally tried to call the two government vets, one was unable to come inspect Darwin that day and the other was unreachable. Another try later was as unsuccessful. What were we to do now? Darwin needed to go to the bathroom. Why is all this so hard? How could nobody give us a solution for bringing the dog ashore? Are we the only cruisers ever to visit countries like this with a dog? Or are we the only ones, trying to do it “right”? Finding out the fee for a night in the marina ($1.20 a foot for a catamaran, that’s more than twice as much as for a monohull!!!), discouraged us even further from staying in Basseterre, so… we left that area and anchored in Ballast Bay for two nights.

The dangerous onshore winds started the second day we were in St. Kitts. Big wind waves smashed against Irie’s bow and against better judgment, we stayed put, enduring the uncomfortableness and stress of dragging on the rocky beach. Not that we had a better option at the moment. I did hitch a ride to see town before and with these south winds, we were very ready to move. But, where to?

The bad weather would last for a bit and we didn’t want to sail to Antigua (and deal with the high fees for Darwin there), before heading to Guadeloupe. Guadeloupe itself was too far away and dead into the wind. On the chart, we had seen a potential anchorage on the north coast of Nevis, but nobody mentioned it. We decided to give that a try and, were we happy we did! All of a sudden, the choppy seas, made room for a piece of calm water in front of a deserted beach. We were the only boat there (we did start a bit of a trend, though, since everywhere else was uncomfortable) and stayed a couple of relaxing days until the wind changed back to the southeast, making this spot less desirable again. As an added bonus, Mark was picked up by a doctor while hitching a ride to the hospital; the start to a less painful throat!

The wind was light and the swell manageable when we arrived in Charlestown, the main town in Nevis. Tons of mooring balls dotted the water surface over a sandy bottom, but we anchored, not wanting more fees. Nobody chased us off, so we assumed this was OK. The view from the anchorage, a perfectly shaped volcano teased by white clouds, was enjoyable; the city itself had a few historical buildings, but didn’t do much for us. We didn’t feel very welcome and stuck to Pinney’s Beach for a few days. Towards the end of the light wind period, we motored –once again- passed The Kingdom of Redonda and to Montserrat for a quick stop.

The same afternoon as our arrival in Little Bay (where all formalities went smooth, professional and efficient, even for Darwin), I hitched rides around the countryside with very friendly and helpful locals. Since it was already pretty late, I only managed to make it to the Volcano Observatory with its decent view of the volcano and some of the destruction it caused in the nineties. The best view, however, came the next morning, when we took advantage of favorable winds to finally sail, all the way to Guadeloupe. There, the rest of the Grenada Armada spontaneously re-assembled in The Saintes for some strategic planning, swapping of smart and not so smart past itineraries and highly needed cocktails in the cockpit.

Liesbet ‘s SabAdventure

Last year Irie spent five months in St. Martin; a big part of the year, that doesn’t have much to do with cruising. Then another three months in Grenada, for pretty much the same reasons: selling Wiries and running the business in the States, combined with boat projects. The list of boat problems never ends and one needs to make a living somehow when wanting to be a sea gypsy, no matter how primitive and economical the lifestyle. The other months of the year, we sail from place to place with some sightseeing and, ideally, a bit of enjoyment along the way.

This year, we came back to St. Martin to work for about three months, order parts from the States and repair some things on Irie. We planned ahead and were busy the whole period and then some. When May approached, we started to look forward to getting out of this land locked, not very Caribbean like lagoon. What is the use of a sailboat when you don’t sail? Problems with the outboard engine would keep us here longer than anticipated, however, and seeing the places missed on our other two passages through the Eastern Caribbean island chain (mostly because of weather issues) was in jeopardy. Hurricane season (and a supposedly bad one at that) is upon us!

For over a year now, I wanted to visit Saba, which is close to St. Martin and part of the Netherlands Antilles. The whole island is more or less a rock and very different from its neighbors. It is relatively small, lacks beaches and flat roads, has few inhabitants and nature abounds. Visiting by boat is possible, but uncomfortable, sometimes even dangerous, and going to shore is very challenging. The best way is to swim, but that involves other inconveniences and excludes taking Darwin to shore for his potty breaks. Mark is not a fan of taking Irie over there, so my only possibility was to visit by myself.

Ferries are expensive and their schedule is unbeneficial, so flying is the better option. Not only do you get to Saba in 15 minutes and hassle-free, but the whole experience is a thrill to say the least! The plane is loud and shaky, the views marvelous. Before you realize St. Martin is behind you, the big mountain of Saba dooms ahead. When you sit in front, you almost have a pilot’s perspective of the trip. With a quick drop, the wheels touch bottom and its strong breaks stop the plane in seconds, while it turns to the small airport building. The runway is the smallest in the world and ends at the ocean’s edge, something you get to see up close when taking off again!

After my first encounter with Saba’s climbing roads and steep steps, I checked into rustic El Momo Cottages, at $50 for one person ($65 for two), the cheapest place on the island. By 10 am, I was ready to explore. I observed a glass blowing demonstration at Jo Bean’s Gallery and ventured into town.

Windwardside, the biggest village (but not the capital; that’s The Bottom), is a cute collection of white gingerbread houses with red roofs and white picket fences. It is very quiet and peaceful with a few churches, a museum, a couple of grocery stores and a handful of bars and restaurants. Goats roam free around town and in the countryside.

Saba is full of hiking trails; you can basically walk around the whole island and rarely touch concrete. Mt. Scenery, with its 1065 steps is the biggest challenge. When the weather is nice, the views are amazing, but I happened to visit on a very cloudy weekend. It took a few hours to climb the big and steep steps cut out of rock. Taking pictures was a good excuse to catch my breath multiple times during the trek.

The whole hike, I was surrounded by moist jungle plants, green elephant ears, banana and palm trees, colorful flowers and singing birds. Once I reached the level of the cloud forest, there wasn’t much reason to keep going, since no views existed, the air was wet and chilly and everything was white. Somehow, I refused to believe this until I stood on the highest point of the Netherlands Antilles with the whistling wind and white clouds as my only company!

Going down went fast. Maybe a bit too fast, since one of my knees exploded in pain with the first step down stairs, the next day. Nevertheless, I wanted to stick to my plan of walking to the airport from Windwardside, the long way around the island, via trails. The exercise started at 9:30 am, when I once again began climbing the steps. A first turn off brought me to the top of Maskahorne Hill with a nice view over town and the ocean. Ascending was excruciatingly painful and I started to doubt my intentions. As long as the trail went up, I would be OK...

I continued on the main track, passed the sign for Mt. Scenery and followed the Bottom Mountain Trail. By Saba standards this one was pretty flat and I enjoyed being all alone in the wilderness and the pastures, surrounded by rainforest, wild goats, fluttering birds, spotted lizards and silent butterflies. The worst part of the day (for people with a painful knee) was the steep and infinite (was it?) path down the mountain towards the road. As slow as I could, I proceeded, my only joy the taste of ripe mangoes that almost fell on my head. When I finally reached the winding concrete, I faced a dilemma: “giving up” and turning left, steeply downhill to reach The Bottom and hope to catch a ride towards the airport (the opposite side of the island), or “be strong” and turning right, steeply uphill (yeah!) to reach the Sandy Cruz Trail, the most popular one for visitors. Based on the painful prospect of going down more, and on stubbornness to do this “nicest” trail, I turned right and started climbing deliberately, taking breaks at every turn.

The Sandy Cruz Trail: should I or should I not? Once I started, there was no way back. Most people do this trail the other way around; I did find out why. About five minutes into the hike, I came across a young couple, whom I asked about the hike. To my great relief, they said they had been going downhill for most of the way. That meant loads of climbing for me. Being one that actually hates climbing and sweating, I found myself just wanting to do that very same thing right now (the climbing anyway)! After a glimpse down to the water with the rocky cliffs, a fast snack, a short break and a few minutes to cool off, I was ready to continue on. Behind me, a local man appeared. He was wearing camouflage clothes, a riffle and a rake. He asked me whether there was anybody behind me. I replied I was going into his direction.

The last time I saw a man in the same outfit with the same tools, was the day before on Mt. Scenery. That man was accompanied by a friend and in front of them laid two dead goats; legs tied together, heads cut off. All of a sudden I realized being alone and quite vulnerable. On Saba no crime exists and I shouldn’t have worried, but sometimes, you get carried away…

A tough climb started, and kept going and going and going. There was no end in sight and I soon understood why tourists did it the other way around. The humidity was incredibly high and I needed to stop frequently to breath and wring my soaking wet shirt. The steep path went on for what seemed forever, but… my knee felt fine. At last, I arrived at another split. I had the choice of taking the All Too Far Trail, followed by the Sulphur Mine Trail which would bring me to Lower Hell’s Gate, the town closest to the airport or continuing along this trail into Upper Hell’s Gate. The second option promised the least downward track (and once on the road, I hoped to hitch a ride), so I continued on the same trail, downhill this time, until I reached the pavement.

From here on, the road wound down for miles, all the way to the airport. I started slowly and discovered I could actually do it with one stretched leg and therefore reduced pain. It might have looked funny and I forced a little smile myself, proud of my achievement and endurance. Soon, I developed a robot-like stride downhill and just like the Duracell man, I kept going. Halfway down, it didn’t seem worthwhile to hitch a ride anymore. And, even so, cars had no room or the momentum of stopping along the narrow, steep road. At exactly 4 pm, I entered the bathroom of the small airport building to freshen up. I had made it and with plenty of time to catch my 5:30 plane back. The idea of walking down to a tidepool nearby was given up after I tried to stand up again subsequent to sitting on a bench for 20 minutes. Totally exhausted and with a sore body, I hugged Darwin and Mark back in St. Martin. Did I really just leave the previous morning? I squeezed the most out of my trip, my money and my muscles, but Saba was worth it!

The Wirie Crew Assembled in the Caribbean

On April 26^th 2010, Mark’s brother Tim and his wife Kristen were scheduled to land in St. Maarten at 2:15 pm. We had been looking forward to their visit for a couple of years and were excited it finally happened. The weather predictions were pretty good and we planned a six day vacation with talks about the business (Tim is our Wirie partner in the States), swimming, walks on beaches, relaxing and lots of sailing…

When Mark checked the status of the expected American Airlines flight, it appeared to be cancelled! A big thunderstorm in Miami, our visitors’ stopover, prevented all planes from landing and taking there. Our visitors’ whole trip was up in the air, literally and figuratively, and we could only hope for the best. It worked and they did arrive in St. Maarten the same day, with a five hour delay and without luggage! Waiting in line and filing the necessary forms took another two hours of their precious vacation time. Around 10 pm, Mark, Darwin and I welcomed Tim and Kristen aboard Irie.

Since we had to wait for the luggage to arrive, plans changed a bit for the first day of their holiday. Instead of leaving the lagoon in the morning and exploring Friar’s Bay and Happy Bay, Mark and Tim had their big business meeting and the girls went shopping in Marigot, the capital of St. Martin. By late afternoon, the guys tried to obtain the arrived luggage, which proved to be a painful and inefficient two hour process. This is the Caribbean! They made it back on Irie right in time to catch the last bridge opening of the day on the French side. We did succeed to anchor in Grand Case before the sun set. In the evening, we tried the local BBQ shacks (lolos) for dinner, something Mark and I came to like. Unfortunately, the over-cooked food, depletion of choices and unfriendly service made an end to that tradition.

On Wednesday, a short, pleasant sail brought us to Tintamarre, where a pod of sleeping dolphins drew our attention. This is the first time we noticed these wonderful animals being totally motionless, just floating under and above the surface. Free mooring balls in the anchorage made our stay easy and a swim to the beach rewarded us with remoteness and white sand. A path leads to the windward side of this deserted island, where the water was lukewarm, protected by the reefs. Snorkeling around the rocks was fair and tiresome because of a strong current. The water was as clear as the sky.

From Tintamarre we had a slow sail to Anse du Columbier in St. Barth. Since the plotted course was straight into the wind, we needed a few tacks and a lot of time to reach our destination. We had lunch underway and the last half hour we decided to motor. Once settled on a free mooring ball, we could enjoy the peaceful surroundings, beautiful water and many sea turtles grazing around our boat. The rest of the afternoon and evening was quietly spent in the anchorage with a nice meal and good company.

Friday had arrived and since we planned two nights in Columbier, we had a whole day to enjoy the area. Kristen preferred to check out St. Barth’s capital Gustavia, so the four of us and Darwin walked the hot, but pretty trail towards the small village of Flamands. There, a taxi could get arranged to drive us into the town center of Gustavia. Tim and Kristen went shopping, while Mark, Darwin and I hung out in the shade of a gazebo, where free internet is available and where we ran into Chris from Gypsy Cat. It’s a small world! For lunch, the Kiltys walked to Shell Beach, where a fancy and attractive outdoor restaurant is located. Tim and Kristen treated us to a wonderful lunch and Darwin got offered a bowl of fresh water. After a sweaty walk back to the dinghy, our guests snorkeled and enjoyed the clear water and interesting sea life. Just like the previous nights, we were all tired and spent by 9pm after a day full of activity and strong sun, so we turned in early again.

The following day, the alarm clock got us going. A quick breakfast and the sails went up for a last sail back to Simpson Bay Lagoon. The wind was very light, which made the trip slow but relaxing. We had to hurry a bit in the end to make the 11:30am Dutch bridge back into our oh-so-familiar lagoon. During the afternoon, Tim, Kristen and I took a bus into Philipsburg for more shopping. At night, the couple took us out to a seafood restaurant along the water. The food was delicious and a huge spoil for the two of us. A very enjoyable, tasty and stress free last night wrapped up our family and Wirie meeting in the Caribbean.

Cruising: An Extended Vacation?

How do the days on Irie look like, the last few weeks? Well, I would say “all but enjoyable”. If you don’t count the evenings. But, that’s why I wrote “days”…

It’s that time again, where being in one place too long and working from morning to evening, without taking any days off demands its toll. I suggest that the first person who even comes close to suggesting that we are on an extended holiday, better run (or swim) away, before I give him or her an earful, or worse!

We are making progress with our list of boat projects. All the stainless steel is cleaned, a blocked hose miraculously cleared itself, the fridge pump works all right again, our crappy sailbag is finally adjusted to the sail after lots of running back and forth, the rusted, grimy grill has new parts (and they all fit), the bad part of the anchor chain is replaced by rope (no money for a whole new chain), Mark fabricated a new snubber (line that connects the chain to the boat to prevent abrupt shocks), replacement blades for our crumbling wind generator blades arrived, and I can keep going on here for a while. A boat, however, is a boat and that means new problems have to show up.

After getting hauled out of the water in Philipsburg about a month ago, we assumed the engine problem was fixed. Well, not so much… Mark just discovered our saildrive oil is turning black again and nobody knows why or how to fix it. Research online (“black saildrive oil”), pointed Mark to one of my earlier blog posts, meaning it is a rare thing and nobody else writes about it! I obviously couldn’t give him the information he needed. The other engine that is giving us trouble is the one from the dinghy. It dies each time we slow down. Hopefully we can fix it or have an experienced opinion before it totally leaves us transportation-less.

Mark spends most of his day behind the computer, dealing with customer issues, credit card issues, you-name-it-issues and the business in the States. I’m not so sure how he will keep that up once we leave St. Maarten and are ready to cruise again. (Will we ever be totally ready to cruise and enjoy again, running a business from the boat?) Twice a week, we advertise The Wirie on displays in bars and about every other day one of us makes an announcement on the Cruiser’s Net (VHF channel 14) here in the area. This lead to most of our sales and we are happy to see all but three Wiries gone at this point.

Runs back and forth with Darwin, to the stores, to do laundry, to pick up packages, to get fuel and water, and to help people out, together with household chores, keep us busy the rest of the time. I worked another two shifts at Lagoonies and Mark managed to do a bit of consulting work. The busy days end, more than not, with a few friends, either in a cheap bar (Happy Hour at 5 pm), on Irie or on somebody else’s boat, sometimes with talented friends playing their instruments. Familiar faces have come and gone. St. Maarten is a focal point in the Eastern Caribbean.

Mark’s back never healed. The pain has gotten better over the months, but he learned to deal with it. Luck had it, that we ran into a pleasant guy we met in The Bahamas more than two years ago. His name is Tom and, he is currently cruising with his -my aged- girlfriend, Karmen. We hit it off and had a few nice evenings together. A particularly interesting fact about Karmen, is that she is an ex- chiropractor. And, out of the kindness of her heart, she assessed Mark’s back problems, gave him a “cracking” and some exercises to work on. Since she was in the right mood anyway, she decided to give me a quick surprise session as well, so now we are both “adjusted”!

A few other factors that play with our moods are weather and noise. After a very calm, hot winter season weather wise, the wind picked up for a few days. As with everything else, that’s good and bad: sailing is possible (in certain directions) and electricity gets created, but… every dinghy ride in the lagoon was a wet and salty one. The same is true for the bright sun: solar panels and laundry happy, my sweaty, achy body not so much. The noise factor fluctuated as well, because of the volcano in Iceland. Fewer planes screamed above and we were enjoying the relative peace! We need the VHF radio on to hear calls for Irie, but it is annoying as ever because of the busy ferry traffic to Anguilla and one of the French marinas using the same station as a calling station. Try writing a press release, or anything else for that matter, while the radio is constantly blearing at you.

I think I have about covered all the “living in the lagoon basics” now and feel better already! Tomorrow, Mark’s brother Tim and his wife Kristen brighten up our stay with their visit. We plan on having a vacation with them, doing what most cruisers do: sail, swim, snorkel, eat good food (well, we actually always do that), enjoy the Caribbean weather, a good book and walks on the beach and be happy. “All is Irie, mon!”