Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Moving...boat
Well, the composter is composting and the wind is blowing, but we are not on the boat. We moved Aquila from Boonedocks to the Whittaker Creek Yacht Harbor (a fancy name for a funky place). WC has a pool, an airconditioned lounge with a TV and wireless, lots of AC toilets and showers and...other boaters! We've had fun so far just talking to our neighbors. The downside is that our slip is somewhat more exposed than we are used to. The upside is that we are only 10 minutes (rather than 40) from sailing on the Neuse.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 12
Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas USVI to Holly Springs, NC
We were up at the crack of dawn, again, for one last trip to a caribbean beach. Lydia called Norwood, but got bumped to the company instead, so Feather came to pick us up. He had the nicest cab we’d been in and seemed to be the dispatcher for the company as well. Or at least he was at 730 in the morning.
We told him we’d like to stop somewhere we could pick up some breakfast, half hoping he’d come up with something other than McDonalds. He suggested…McDonalds and we stopped for a quick take-out.
We’d been to Sapphire Beach before and thought it special. First snorkel wasn’t all that exciting, but later Bob and I went out further and rediscovered why we like this place. Kids built sand castles. Ed and Lydia read books in the shade (see picture).
Showers, shopping, up and down the 147 steps. Then it was time to leave. Uneventful flights and a long drive home.
DETAILS
Footloose Charter in Road Town, Tortola
“Lis” Beneteau 505
Approximate cost (airfare, taxis, provisions—everything BUT souvenirs) = $1620 per person
Suggestions: take along the chartplotter and card, the handhelf vhf, more sunscreen, use the insect repellent before going ashore and anytime the anchorage gets un-windy. If it’s summer don’t sleepaboard and think twice about the catamaran. Buy everything you think you might need in Tortola, as the provisions elsewhere are…limited. Unless you want rum, which is plentiful (and cheap) everywhere.
We were up at the crack of dawn, again, for one last trip to a caribbean beach. Lydia called Norwood, but got bumped to the company instead, so Feather came to pick us up. He had the nicest cab we’d been in and seemed to be the dispatcher for the company as well. Or at least he was at 730 in the morning.
We told him we’d like to stop somewhere we could pick up some breakfast, half hoping he’d come up with something other than McDonalds. He suggested…McDonalds and we stopped for a quick take-out.
We’d been to Sapphire Beach before and thought it special. First snorkel wasn’t all that exciting, but later Bob and I went out further and rediscovered why we like this place. Kids built sand castles. Ed and Lydia read books in the shade (see picture).
Showers, shopping, up and down the 147 steps. Then it was time to leave. Uneventful flights and a long drive home.
DETAILS
Footloose Charter in Road Town, Tortola
“Lis” Beneteau 505
Approximate cost (airfare, taxis, provisions—everything BUT souvenirs) = $1620 per person
Suggestions: take along the chartplotter and card, the handhelf vhf, more sunscreen, use the insect repellent before going ashore and anytime the anchorage gets un-windy. If it’s summer don’t sleepaboard and think twice about the catamaran. Buy everything you think you might need in Tortola, as the provisions elsewhere are…limited. Unless you want rum, which is plentiful (and cheap) everywhere.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 11
Great Harbour, Peter Island to Moorings Base, Tortola to Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas
Only Bob and I did the usual morning snorkel, and it was pretty. A lot like the other places, but still nice enough to get wet for.
We then started packing up and got mostly ready before we set off for our last sail. Allison sailed some, and Ed too, and we took a longer route back than we needed to but the wind was good and we couldn’t see much value in getting back early.
We called Footloose as we passed the cruise ship dock, and they directed us to the fuel dock, the ‘C’ dock, with the big Shell sign. As we approached we realized that again two of their employees intended to board and dock the boat. While this was great, I wish we had known this earlier, as it would have saved a lot of anxiety.
It took our two guys quite a while to actually get the 50’ boat in a slip just barely wide enough, and with LESS than 50’ of turning room, for the boat. A little issue with the wind (where WAS that wind when we were sleeping aboard?) pushing the bow off forced them to back in from the other direction (turning around in the narrow channel was an issue as well). And then the boat next to our spot wasn’t tied to stay OUT of our boats space and we had a little tussle with the anchor (no harm done to either boat). In about ½ hour we were unloaded and hotter than ever and headed for lunch over by the swimming pool (see picture of bob with junk).
On our way out, the taxi took Bob by the First Caribbean Bank to get back his ATM card while the rest of us luxuriated in the air conditioning.
Road Town is a British-inspired version of Charlotte Amalie. The downtown shopping area looks nicer, somehow, but there is, on the whole, less order to the development- which can be good or bad depending on your personal tastes.
When we left the Moorings Base, we took with us some food that I thought we could snack on during the ferry ride or at the hotel on St. Thomas. I had forgotten that we were going thru immigration, and they ALWAYS ask about food (funny, they never ask us about guns or bombs, I guess the machines can find these things). So I decided to dump the food in Road Town. And while I didn't mean literally 'dump' the food, I did manage to drop a jar of mayonaise (don't ask), spewing broken glass and mayo all over the tidy floor of the ferry terminal. The security agents were only too glad to take the rest of the food off our hands, telling me to just back away from the food and they would take care of it.
The ferry ride was uneventful, though a little sad as we all knew that our adventure was almost over.
After another customs line, we called Budget Rental Cars for a ride. Once there, however, we were told they had no cars for 7 people, but we could have two jeeps for the same price. But the idea of navigating two jeeps on the wrong side of the road was just too much, so they gave us a ride to the Green Iguana, and we resorted to 'calling norwood' for our last day in St. Thomas.
Dinner at Mafolie was wonderful, augmented by the fabulous view of the city lights, and the rooms were air conditioned.
Only Bob and I did the usual morning snorkel, and it was pretty. A lot like the other places, but still nice enough to get wet for.
We then started packing up and got mostly ready before we set off for our last sail. Allison sailed some, and Ed too, and we took a longer route back than we needed to but the wind was good and we couldn’t see much value in getting back early.
We called Footloose as we passed the cruise ship dock, and they directed us to the fuel dock, the ‘C’ dock, with the big Shell sign. As we approached we realized that again two of their employees intended to board and dock the boat. While this was great, I wish we had known this earlier, as it would have saved a lot of anxiety.
It took our two guys quite a while to actually get the 50’ boat in a slip just barely wide enough, and with LESS than 50’ of turning room, for the boat. A little issue with the wind (where WAS that wind when we were sleeping aboard?) pushing the bow off forced them to back in from the other direction (turning around in the narrow channel was an issue as well). And then the boat next to our spot wasn’t tied to stay OUT of our boats space and we had a little tussle with the anchor (no harm done to either boat). In about ½ hour we were unloaded and hotter than ever and headed for lunch over by the swimming pool (see picture of bob with junk).
On our way out, the taxi took Bob by the First Caribbean Bank to get back his ATM card while the rest of us luxuriated in the air conditioning.
Road Town is a British-inspired version of Charlotte Amalie. The downtown shopping area looks nicer, somehow, but there is, on the whole, less order to the development- which can be good or bad depending on your personal tastes.
When we left the Moorings Base, we took with us some food that I thought we could snack on during the ferry ride or at the hotel on St. Thomas. I had forgotten that we were going thru immigration, and they ALWAYS ask about food (funny, they never ask us about guns or bombs, I guess the machines can find these things). So I decided to dump the food in Road Town. And while I didn't mean literally 'dump' the food, I did manage to drop a jar of mayonaise (don't ask), spewing broken glass and mayo all over the tidy floor of the ferry terminal. The security agents were only too glad to take the rest of the food off our hands, telling me to just back away from the food and they would take care of it.
The ferry ride was uneventful, though a little sad as we all knew that our adventure was almost over.
After another customs line, we called Budget Rental Cars for a ride. Once there, however, we were told they had no cars for 7 people, but we could have two jeeps for the same price. But the idea of navigating two jeeps on the wrong side of the road was just too much, so they gave us a ride to the Green Iguana, and we resorted to 'calling norwood' for our last day in St. Thomas.
Dinner at Mafolie was wonderful, augmented by the fabulous view of the city lights, and the rooms were air conditioned.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 10
White Bay, JVD to West End, Tortola to Great Harbour, Peter Island.
This morning, our routine differed. We stayed in White Bay for breakfast, and snorkeling. There were lots of turtles, mostly small ones, feeding on the bottom, and bob and I snorkeled over the reef enjoying the usual sights.
Then Abby and Allison decided to snorkel to shore by themselves. (see picture) We were pretty far out, so this was a big undertaking. We could see that there was a bar ashore, and few other buildings, but no people.
They found what they considered paradise. A tire swing, some cats. A creatively decorated bar/restaurant (see the picture of the ‘art’) called Ivan’s Stress-free Bar. And they had found it themselves.
Eventually, they swam all the back, telling us we needed to see it come see it it’s special wonderful fantastic I want to live here. So all the girls, and Kevin, hopped in the dinghy. We made it to shore, beached the dinghy, and checked it out, paying Ivan for our mooring, then got back in the dinghy and motored over to the Soggy Dollar Bar, home of the original Painkiller.
Checked out the bars and the stores, had a drink under the palm trees, and wandered back to our dinghy for the trip to the big boat. And everything was going well until that engine problem resurfaced. The gas line from the tank to the motor would not stay attached to the tank, and after it came off about ¼ of the way back, I couldn’t restart the engine. So we tried to rowing with oars not designed to be used. Into the wind, it was awful. So the kids decided to try pulling us. That wasn’t working too well either.
Lydia tried the old wave-both-hands at the guys to get help, but either they didn’t notice or pretended not to notice. I finally gave up and yelled at them, but they didn’t know what to do. I suppose swimming over and climbing in the dinghy and starting the motor didn’t occur to them. Anyway, I finally got the motor started and we finally made it back, but I wasn’t about to take that dinghy anywhere by myself again. I’m much more comfortable with oars than with a motor, but when I couldn’t get either one to work, I was not happy.
I eventually recovered, and we had lunch and set off to repeat Sopers Hole.
We picked up a mooring there, and dinghied to shore. Where it was very, very hot. The sun-obscuring Saharan dust was gone, and it was bright and windless and sweltering. Ice cream and drinks at the Pussers Bar, and we were headed off to our last night on the boat.
As we rounded the west end of Tortola, we were once again headed up wind into the easterly trades. We motored and motor sailed past Norman Island and the Indians to Peter Island.
It was here that Bob had his revelation about catamarans. On our Beneteau, we had lowered the dodger so we had better visibility and more wind. We would raise the dodger for dinner or lunch so the food wouldn’t fly off our forks, but otherwise, we left it down. It made the passages more pleasant, and the time at anchor was much cooler.
But the cats don’t have dodgers so they couldn’t lower them or even open the little windows. Combined with ‘not swinging around the anchor’, this would make the cockpit of the cat hothothot at anchor as well as underway. We had noticed the day before that the cat next to us in White Bay had all the crew on the tramp, trying to stay in the shade of the mast. Now we understood better why they didn’t just hang in the cockpit. Of course, by dusk they had turned on their generator and air conditioner, so we didn’t feel too sorry for them! They all disappeared inside and we never saw them again.
And we also noticed here, that the cats weren’t riding in the swells any better than we were, and some of them were clearly suffering—hobby horsing along over each swell. So for those of you who think a cat is the way to go (which had included us!)—think again.
We picked up a mooring at the completely deserted mooring field of the Oceans 7 Beach Club in Buttonhole Bay. It was quite windy, and it took us a couple tries to get the pick-up buoy aboard. Ed, Kevin and the girls went ashore to check out the ‘Club’ and pay for the mooring. Once again, the girls tried the water trampoline. It still wasn’t quite worth the $5.
Our last dinner aboard, and a fairly comfortable night, even if it was…still hot. Allison showed off both her pedicure and her flexibility (see picture)
This morning, our routine differed. We stayed in White Bay for breakfast, and snorkeling. There were lots of turtles, mostly small ones, feeding on the bottom, and bob and I snorkeled over the reef enjoying the usual sights.
Then Abby and Allison decided to snorkel to shore by themselves. (see picture) We were pretty far out, so this was a big undertaking. We could see that there was a bar ashore, and few other buildings, but no people.
They found what they considered paradise. A tire swing, some cats. A creatively decorated bar/restaurant (see the picture of the ‘art’) called Ivan’s Stress-free Bar. And they had found it themselves.
Eventually, they swam all the back, telling us we needed to see it come see it it’s special wonderful fantastic I want to live here. So all the girls, and Kevin, hopped in the dinghy. We made it to shore, beached the dinghy, and checked it out, paying Ivan for our mooring, then got back in the dinghy and motored over to the Soggy Dollar Bar, home of the original Painkiller.
Checked out the bars and the stores, had a drink under the palm trees, and wandered back to our dinghy for the trip to the big boat. And everything was going well until that engine problem resurfaced. The gas line from the tank to the motor would not stay attached to the tank, and after it came off about ¼ of the way back, I couldn’t restart the engine. So we tried to rowing with oars not designed to be used. Into the wind, it was awful. So the kids decided to try pulling us. That wasn’t working too well either.
Lydia tried the old wave-both-hands at the guys to get help, but either they didn’t notice or pretended not to notice. I finally gave up and yelled at them, but they didn’t know what to do. I suppose swimming over and climbing in the dinghy and starting the motor didn’t occur to them. Anyway, I finally got the motor started and we finally made it back, but I wasn’t about to take that dinghy anywhere by myself again. I’m much more comfortable with oars than with a motor, but when I couldn’t get either one to work, I was not happy.
I eventually recovered, and we had lunch and set off to repeat Sopers Hole.
We picked up a mooring there, and dinghied to shore. Where it was very, very hot. The sun-obscuring Saharan dust was gone, and it was bright and windless and sweltering. Ice cream and drinks at the Pussers Bar, and we were headed off to our last night on the boat.
As we rounded the west end of Tortola, we were once again headed up wind into the easterly trades. We motored and motor sailed past Norman Island and the Indians to Peter Island.
It was here that Bob had his revelation about catamarans. On our Beneteau, we had lowered the dodger so we had better visibility and more wind. We would raise the dodger for dinner or lunch so the food wouldn’t fly off our forks, but otherwise, we left it down. It made the passages more pleasant, and the time at anchor was much cooler.
But the cats don’t have dodgers so they couldn’t lower them or even open the little windows. Combined with ‘not swinging around the anchor’, this would make the cockpit of the cat hothothot at anchor as well as underway. We had noticed the day before that the cat next to us in White Bay had all the crew on the tramp, trying to stay in the shade of the mast. Now we understood better why they didn’t just hang in the cockpit. Of course, by dusk they had turned on their generator and air conditioner, so we didn’t feel too sorry for them! They all disappeared inside and we never saw them again.
And we also noticed here, that the cats weren’t riding in the swells any better than we were, and some of them were clearly suffering—hobby horsing along over each swell. So for those of you who think a cat is the way to go (which had included us!)—think again.
We picked up a mooring at the completely deserted mooring field of the Oceans 7 Beach Club in Buttonhole Bay. It was quite windy, and it took us a couple tries to get the pick-up buoy aboard. Ed, Kevin and the girls went ashore to check out the ‘Club’ and pay for the mooring. Once again, the girls tried the water trampoline. It still wasn’t quite worth the $5.
Our last dinner aboard, and a fairly comfortable night, even if it was…still hot. Allison showed off both her pedicure and her flexibility (see picture)
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 9
Cane Garden Bay to Little Jost Van Dyke to Little Harbour, JVD to Sopers Hole, Tortola to Great Harbour, JVD to White Bay, JVD
Yeah, the list of where we went is pretty informative. And while it looks like we spent the day frantically traveling, the distances are short enough that it didn’t feel frantic at all.
We started as we always did, early, motoring from CGB to Little JVD. We had developed problems with the water pump, and were hoping to refill our water tanks just to be sure that lack of water wasn’t causing the problem. This had been a recurring problem, and none of our tricks from earlier solved the problem. According to the limited information provided by Footloose/Moorings, there was water to be had at Diamond Cay.
We picked up a mooring off Foxy’s Taboo, a large shack set on a scrubby beach near the passage between JVD and Little JVD. We dinghied ashore with our snorkeling gear and tied up to ‘marina’.
At some time recently, an attempt had been made to provide slips (for med mooring, I think) off the dock. The remnants of fairly new electrical boxes remained. The wind and the surge, however, made the dock a challenge even for the dinghy, and with the eastern exposure, I could imagine that dock would be fairly uncomfortable in the eastern trade winds. And there are almost always eastern trade winds. Water supplies didn’t look likely.
We wandered around the old pilings, large asphalt lots, and other debris that appeared to have once been a waterside development. But maybe it’s just the parking lot used for Foxy’s Taboo in the high season, and has that not-quite-finished and might-be-a-junkyard look of so much of the island developments.
Someone showed up at the bar, and told us there was no water. Maybe at Little Harbour? And they directed us to the ‘bubbling pools’. We followed the other dinghy group, who followed the dog, and eventually ended up at the pools. Which, given that it was low tide, weren’t quite bubbling. And with about 15 of us, there wasn’t even enough room for all of us in the pool at once. But it was interesting, and we then we walked back.
It was hot.
Kevin and I snorkeled over to the beach on LJVD while the others dinghied over. The snorkeling was so-so, and we all got back in the dinghy to look for a better spot.
We found a beach with an old tour boat (think Gilligan’s Island). It seemed everyone had dropped off the flotsam and jetsam they had discovered to create a poor-man’s bar, even though it really wasn’t a bar. (see the picture of Bob in the boat).
The snorkeling here was good. And as we motored out of the bay past Sandy Cay, which now had a bunch of boats moored behind it, we decided we wanted to check out that island. Next time.
Around the point, into Little Harbour and picked up another mooring. Everyone but Bob dinghied ashore. We were supposed to be checking on the water situation and the depth at the dock, and then coming right back. But…there were stores here! Trinkets! Tshirts! Scarves! The girls looked at everything and bought some stuff. Ed played ball with a local boy who looked really happy to have a playmate. Ed, I think, would have been just fine sitting in the shade, but enjoyed spending a few minutes making a little boy laugh. We saw an enormous skate as headed back to the dinghy. Oh, and no, there was no water here. Apparently, there is a drought on the island and no water to spare. We had to go back to Cane Garden Bay or over to Sopers Hole to get water.
As we’d already SEEN (and heard) CGB, we headed to Soper’s Hole. This is the second biggest town on Tortola, after Road Town, and we were expecting SHOPPING. There were lots of moorings as we headed in, and after designating Lydia as Communications Specialist, we learned that we were to pull up to the t-dock, rigged on the starboard side.
Eleven dollars of water later (BVI uses US currency, luckily), we were just waiting on the shoppers. Turns out (surprise) it was a really small community, with a bar, about 6 shops, and a little grocery store.
It was hot.
We left for Great Harbour, where we intended to have dinner ashore at Foxy’s, with everyone wishing we’d had more time at the Hole. I promised we would try.
Motorsailing, we pulled into Great Harbour, which is one of the few notable locations in the BVI without mooring balls. I have not yet figured out why. In addition, it is one of the few locations where anchoring is reputedly ‘difficult’.
On our 505, we had 200’ of chain and a 65 lb Delta. Good thing we had a honkin’ windlass to go with it, or Ed would have been too tired to eat dinner. We dropped the anchor, tried to set it, dragged. Repeat. Repeat. Head to other side of bay, repeat twice.
During the anchoring adventure, a dinghy pulled alongside and a Moorings technician came aboard to help us with the water pump issue. He changed to the backup pump (did we even know we HAD a back up pump) and then explained that if lose the prime and get air in the system, we would need to bleed all the faucets to make sure we get all the air out or we would get exactly what we had—a pump that wouldn’t turn off. The lack of water pressure in the galley sink he solved by taking off the aerator, which was full of gunk. Why didn’t we think of that? Well, these are never problems we’ve had on any of our boats before. But then, we’ve never had FIVE heads on any of our boats either.
Gun, as he was called, also told us that he suggests that charterers use two tanks at once, and rotate every day or two, depending on the length of the charter and the size of the tanks. We had 240 gallons of water, and if the tanks were all of equal size, we would then have used the two forward tanks (60 gals each) for a day, then the two aft for a day, and so on. This would make it less likely we’d run out of any tank, and thus not pick up the crap in the bottom of the tank and not need to bleed the system repeatedly. Anyway, we signed his form and he set out back to Tortola.
After a quick conference, we decided to motor over to White Bay (next door) and pick up a mooring and take a taxi back to Foxy’s.
White Bay is beautiful and shallow. We picked up the mooring in 8 feet of water, watching turtles directly below the boat!
Lydia, the CommSpesh, was detailed to phone Foxy’s to ask about taxis. They assured us that we could just dinghy over! No problem!
And in the end, it wasn’t a problem, but we were dinghying in a very exposed place around a rocky promontory. And we did have a slight engine problem. And we did get pretty wet. But it was just another adventure. Although I should have paid more attention to that engine malfunction…
At Foxy’s we arrived just in time to do some quick shopping, once again keeping a store open almost until it’s posted closing time! There were very few in the bar. And after a quick search, we concluded that the Aquila shirt our friends had hung from the rafters two years earlier had been removed or had just plain disintegrated.
Dinner was good though this was our first encounter with biting insects. Dinghying back in the dark was another adventure, and we were all particularly proud of Lydia for being willing to take on these adventures, when they scared the bejesus out of her. The lights of Tortola and St. Thomas were magical.
The wind died about 2am. But the swells didn’t. So it was particularly hot and without the wind to keep us pointed, at least occasionally into the swells, it was really rolly. I think we were all up for a while. Abby joined Ed and I in the cockpit, sleeping on a float on the floor. And when it rained (as it did most nights, even if just a brief shower), I jumped up yelling at Abby to get up get up (she didn’t awaken, but I think I scared a few years off Ed with my hollering) and tossed my Ipod. Somewhere.
I couldn’t find it, and concluded I must have tossed it overboard when I grabbed the linens to head inside. But I couldn’t sleep until I was sure, and after another shower, and a more searching, and giving up and searching again, I spied it on the counter in our cabin! Apparently, Bob thought I had dropped it in when the rain started and put it out of harm’s (and apparently, my) way.
Yeah, the list of where we went is pretty informative. And while it looks like we spent the day frantically traveling, the distances are short enough that it didn’t feel frantic at all.
We started as we always did, early, motoring from CGB to Little JVD. We had developed problems with the water pump, and were hoping to refill our water tanks just to be sure that lack of water wasn’t causing the problem. This had been a recurring problem, and none of our tricks from earlier solved the problem. According to the limited information provided by Footloose/Moorings, there was water to be had at Diamond Cay.
We picked up a mooring off Foxy’s Taboo, a large shack set on a scrubby beach near the passage between JVD and Little JVD. We dinghied ashore with our snorkeling gear and tied up to ‘marina’.
At some time recently, an attempt had been made to provide slips (for med mooring, I think) off the dock. The remnants of fairly new electrical boxes remained. The wind and the surge, however, made the dock a challenge even for the dinghy, and with the eastern exposure, I could imagine that dock would be fairly uncomfortable in the eastern trade winds. And there are almost always eastern trade winds. Water supplies didn’t look likely.
We wandered around the old pilings, large asphalt lots, and other debris that appeared to have once been a waterside development. But maybe it’s just the parking lot used for Foxy’s Taboo in the high season, and has that not-quite-finished and might-be-a-junkyard look of so much of the island developments.
Someone showed up at the bar, and told us there was no water. Maybe at Little Harbour? And they directed us to the ‘bubbling pools’. We followed the other dinghy group, who followed the dog, and eventually ended up at the pools. Which, given that it was low tide, weren’t quite bubbling. And with about 15 of us, there wasn’t even enough room for all of us in the pool at once. But it was interesting, and we then we walked back.
It was hot.
Kevin and I snorkeled over to the beach on LJVD while the others dinghied over. The snorkeling was so-so, and we all got back in the dinghy to look for a better spot.
We found a beach with an old tour boat (think Gilligan’s Island). It seemed everyone had dropped off the flotsam and jetsam they had discovered to create a poor-man’s bar, even though it really wasn’t a bar. (see the picture of Bob in the boat).
The snorkeling here was good. And as we motored out of the bay past Sandy Cay, which now had a bunch of boats moored behind it, we decided we wanted to check out that island. Next time.
Around the point, into Little Harbour and picked up another mooring. Everyone but Bob dinghied ashore. We were supposed to be checking on the water situation and the depth at the dock, and then coming right back. But…there were stores here! Trinkets! Tshirts! Scarves! The girls looked at everything and bought some stuff. Ed played ball with a local boy who looked really happy to have a playmate. Ed, I think, would have been just fine sitting in the shade, but enjoyed spending a few minutes making a little boy laugh. We saw an enormous skate as headed back to the dinghy. Oh, and no, there was no water here. Apparently, there is a drought on the island and no water to spare. We had to go back to Cane Garden Bay or over to Sopers Hole to get water.
As we’d already SEEN (and heard) CGB, we headed to Soper’s Hole. This is the second biggest town on Tortola, after Road Town, and we were expecting SHOPPING. There were lots of moorings as we headed in, and after designating Lydia as Communications Specialist, we learned that we were to pull up to the t-dock, rigged on the starboard side.
Eleven dollars of water later (BVI uses US currency, luckily), we were just waiting on the shoppers. Turns out (surprise) it was a really small community, with a bar, about 6 shops, and a little grocery store.
It was hot.
We left for Great Harbour, where we intended to have dinner ashore at Foxy’s, with everyone wishing we’d had more time at the Hole. I promised we would try.
Motorsailing, we pulled into Great Harbour, which is one of the few notable locations in the BVI without mooring balls. I have not yet figured out why. In addition, it is one of the few locations where anchoring is reputedly ‘difficult’.
On our 505, we had 200’ of chain and a 65 lb Delta. Good thing we had a honkin’ windlass to go with it, or Ed would have been too tired to eat dinner. We dropped the anchor, tried to set it, dragged. Repeat. Repeat. Head to other side of bay, repeat twice.
During the anchoring adventure, a dinghy pulled alongside and a Moorings technician came aboard to help us with the water pump issue. He changed to the backup pump (did we even know we HAD a back up pump) and then explained that if lose the prime and get air in the system, we would need to bleed all the faucets to make sure we get all the air out or we would get exactly what we had—a pump that wouldn’t turn off. The lack of water pressure in the galley sink he solved by taking off the aerator, which was full of gunk. Why didn’t we think of that? Well, these are never problems we’ve had on any of our boats before. But then, we’ve never had FIVE heads on any of our boats either.
Gun, as he was called, also told us that he suggests that charterers use two tanks at once, and rotate every day or two, depending on the length of the charter and the size of the tanks. We had 240 gallons of water, and if the tanks were all of equal size, we would then have used the two forward tanks (60 gals each) for a day, then the two aft for a day, and so on. This would make it less likely we’d run out of any tank, and thus not pick up the crap in the bottom of the tank and not need to bleed the system repeatedly. Anyway, we signed his form and he set out back to Tortola.
After a quick conference, we decided to motor over to White Bay (next door) and pick up a mooring and take a taxi back to Foxy’s.
White Bay is beautiful and shallow. We picked up the mooring in 8 feet of water, watching turtles directly below the boat!
Lydia, the CommSpesh, was detailed to phone Foxy’s to ask about taxis. They assured us that we could just dinghy over! No problem!
And in the end, it wasn’t a problem, but we were dinghying in a very exposed place around a rocky promontory. And we did have a slight engine problem. And we did get pretty wet. But it was just another adventure. Although I should have paid more attention to that engine malfunction…
At Foxy’s we arrived just in time to do some quick shopping, once again keeping a store open almost until it’s posted closing time! There were very few in the bar. And after a quick search, we concluded that the Aquila shirt our friends had hung from the rafters two years earlier had been removed or had just plain disintegrated.
Dinner was good though this was our first encounter with biting insects. Dinghying back in the dark was another adventure, and we were all particularly proud of Lydia for being willing to take on these adventures, when they scared the bejesus out of her. The lights of Tortola and St. Thomas were magical.
The wind died about 2am. But the swells didn’t. So it was particularly hot and without the wind to keep us pointed, at least occasionally into the swells, it was really rolly. I think we were all up for a while. Abby joined Ed and I in the cockpit, sleeping on a float on the floor. And when it rained (as it did most nights, even if just a brief shower), I jumped up yelling at Abby to get up get up (she didn’t awaken, but I think I scared a few years off Ed with my hollering) and tossed my Ipod. Somewhere.
I couldn’t find it, and concluded I must have tossed it overboard when I grabbed the linens to head inside. But I couldn’t sleep until I was sure, and after another shower, and a more searching, and giving up and searching again, I spied it on the counter in our cabin! Apparently, Bob thought I had dropped it in when the rain started and put it out of harm’s (and apparently, my) way.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 8
Marina Cay to Monkey Point, Guana Island to Cane Garden Bay, Tortola
Same routine. Motored through the Camanoe Passage, a narrow slot between Great Camanoe and Little Camanoe Islands. Just shy of Monkey Point, the next snorkeling spot, we saw a sea turtle. And after breakfast some of us saw either one sea turtle in two places, or two different sea turtles. I swam all over the place but only saw pretty fish and coral and more fish and coral and more coral and fish. Ah well, maybe I’ll see a turtle at the next spot.
We finished up our Monday by tacking downwind to Cane Garden Bay, Tortola. CGB was big enough, reportedly, to have both an ATM AND a grocery store. As we approached the mooring, however, we realized that we had lost the boathook somewhere between Monkey Point and CGB. Ed improvised by using the deck brush. It took us 3 passes to pick up the buoy, but it did work.
CGB is a pretty beach, with lots of tacky beach bars and very few people. Maybe it’s just the time of year…We walked into town, which is a real town, with a police station, the ubiquitous chickens, abandoned cars and even the, yes, ATM.
We had drinks at a…um…pink bar, and while the girls played on the $5 water trampoline, Bob and I went searching for a boat hook store. Of course, we didn’t find one, but we did find MB’s Watersports. It was a small blue shack, with stacks of soda and beer on the floor and snorkels and floats hanging on the walls. But no proprietor.
A man in the water yelled at someone nearby, presumably MB, who walked up to us. Bob told him we had lost our boat hook. Without speaking, he walked behind the store, over to an old runabout sitting in an even older trailer. He rummaged through the garbage inside the boat for a minute, and turned back to us with a broken off West Marine boat hook, about 5 feet long.
How much?
“No charge”. And he turned back to his blue shack.
We made a quick stop at the grocery store for Nilla Wafers, eggs and English muffins. Then back in the dinghy and back to the boat.
Bob, Abby, Allison and I all retreated to the water to find something cool. We used the floaties and tied them up in the shade of the hull. This was the only time we used all 4 floats at once, and next trip I don’t think I’d get quite that many, but I would definitely get one or two. They turned out to be really useful as an ‘island’ to rest on when we snorkeled some distance from the boat.
Dinner was on board, and again, the charcoal defeated us.
Tonight, though, the heat would not defeat ME, and I slept in the cockpit. In a typical male-female comparison, though, where Ed slept in the cockpit with just a pillow; I ‘moved in’. I carefully spread out the cushions on the starboard cockpit seat, and folded and laid one of the fleece blankets over the cushions, tucking it in at the ends. Then a sheet, in case the wind brought a chill (wishful thinking). My ipod, my pillow, and I was ready for bed.
Remember those long-legged chickens? I guess they come along with long-legged roosters. And clearly, all of them lived in Cane Garden Bay. And just as clearly, all of them have broken clocks.
At 4am, they started crowing. And crowing. In a repeating stanza, echoing from one side of the bay to the other, they crowed. Until just before dawn, when they stopped. I guess they are on ‘island time’ too.
Same routine. Motored through the Camanoe Passage, a narrow slot between Great Camanoe and Little Camanoe Islands. Just shy of Monkey Point, the next snorkeling spot, we saw a sea turtle. And after breakfast some of us saw either one sea turtle in two places, or two different sea turtles. I swam all over the place but only saw pretty fish and coral and more fish and coral and more coral and fish. Ah well, maybe I’ll see a turtle at the next spot.
We finished up our Monday by tacking downwind to Cane Garden Bay, Tortola. CGB was big enough, reportedly, to have both an ATM AND a grocery store. As we approached the mooring, however, we realized that we had lost the boathook somewhere between Monkey Point and CGB. Ed improvised by using the deck brush. It took us 3 passes to pick up the buoy, but it did work.
CGB is a pretty beach, with lots of tacky beach bars and very few people. Maybe it’s just the time of year…We walked into town, which is a real town, with a police station, the ubiquitous chickens, abandoned cars and even the, yes, ATM.
We had drinks at a…um…pink bar, and while the girls played on the $5 water trampoline, Bob and I went searching for a boat hook store. Of course, we didn’t find one, but we did find MB’s Watersports. It was a small blue shack, with stacks of soda and beer on the floor and snorkels and floats hanging on the walls. But no proprietor.
A man in the water yelled at someone nearby, presumably MB, who walked up to us. Bob told him we had lost our boat hook. Without speaking, he walked behind the store, over to an old runabout sitting in an even older trailer. He rummaged through the garbage inside the boat for a minute, and turned back to us with a broken off West Marine boat hook, about 5 feet long.
How much?
“No charge”. And he turned back to his blue shack.
We made a quick stop at the grocery store for Nilla Wafers, eggs and English muffins. Then back in the dinghy and back to the boat.
Bob, Abby, Allison and I all retreated to the water to find something cool. We used the floaties and tied them up in the shade of the hull. This was the only time we used all 4 floats at once, and next trip I don’t think I’d get quite that many, but I would definitely get one or two. They turned out to be really useful as an ‘island’ to rest on when we snorkeled some distance from the boat.
Dinner was on board, and again, the charcoal defeated us.
Tonight, though, the heat would not defeat ME, and I slept in the cockpit. In a typical male-female comparison, though, where Ed slept in the cockpit with just a pillow; I ‘moved in’. I carefully spread out the cushions on the starboard cockpit seat, and folded and laid one of the fleece blankets over the cushions, tucking it in at the ends. Then a sheet, in case the wind brought a chill (wishful thinking). My ipod, my pillow, and I was ready for bed.
Remember those long-legged chickens? I guess they come along with long-legged roosters. And clearly, all of them lived in Cane Garden Bay. And just as clearly, all of them have broken clocks.
At 4am, they started crowing. And crowing. In a repeating stanza, echoing from one side of the bay to the other, they crowed. Until just before dawn, when they stopped. I guess they are on ‘island time’ too.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 7
Saba Rock, Virgin Gorda to George Dog to Marina Cay
Another day, another early departure. The day dawned overcast and hazy. According to the NWS forecast I had read at Saba Rock, the haze and overcast, as well as the wind yesterday, were due to the passing of a tropical wave. The haze was called “Saharan conditions” and apparently consists of dust from the Sahara Desert that had blown across the Atlantic with the tropical wave. See pictures of the dust here: http://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/NaturalHazards/view.php?id=39210&src=nha and http://www.usatoday.com/weather/walm3.htm
http://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/Features/Dust/
While it was unfortunate that we had limited visibility, the clouds helped keep the temperature down, and we all needed a little break from sun exposure. (see picture)
Following our usual routine, we motored over to our snorkeling spot, charging the refrigerator holding plates while we traveled. Breakfast and coffee, then snorkeling. This time, we were at George Dog, a small uninhabited island between Virgin Gorda and Tortola. The seas were pretty high, as was the wind, and it was almost too much to land the dinghy. After much slipping and sliding and walking over shells and rocks, we managed to tie the dinghy up to some exposed rocks.
We snorkeled a bit, and beachcombed a bit, but it was really just too windy, so we headed back to the big boat and took off sailing to our next destination. We were now on the backside of Tortola, ½ way through our charter, and at last going downwind. And while this made the sailing more comfortable, it also made the sailing hotter which made us even gladder to have the ‘saharan dust’.
Marina Cay is a very small island, which has an interesting story, and is pretty enough. It is owned by the Pussers Rum Company, but I think it looks a lot prettier in the aerial photos than it does from the water or from the land.
Robb and Rodie White purchased Marina Cay for $60 in 1937, and built a house on the small uninhabited island as newlyweds. Their lives were hard as there was no water or electricity on the island, and even getting supplies seemed difficult. There is a photo of the alcohol powered refrigerator that must have seemed magical to them. In 1940, Robb was called to serve in the US Navy. On his return from the war, however, Robb and Rodie separated, and neither ever returned to their island. Robb wrote the book “Our Virgin Island”, which was later made into a movie called “Tale of Two Isles”.
The island IS beautiful, with lush (irrigated) landscaping, and a comfortable beach bar. There is also a bar at the top of the island, and we walked up the pathway for the view. (see picture) When we arrived, there was a woman sweeping, but no one else present. Only a few tables, and oddly, fewer chairs were scattered over the patio. Clearly, the bar was closed.
“When do you open?” Lydia, the only real conversant member of our group, asked the woman. She kept sweeping up the tiny leaves that littered the porch.
“December 31st”.
We took a few pictures and headed back to the beach bar, unwilling to wait 6 months even for a dark’n stormy.
As our supply of Dark’n Stormy supplies on the boat had dwindled, we stopped in at the Pussers Rum store to buy ‘provisions’. As we were checking out, a wise ass informed us that Dark’n Stormy’s really needed to be made only with Goslings Black Seal Rum and Barritts Ginger Beer (both Bermudian). As we were in the PUSSERS rum store, I thought this was a little insensitive. (The only place in the islands we saw Dark’n Stormys made with Goslings and Barritts was at the Soggy Dollar Bar in White Bay, Jost Van Dyke. Oddly, the only place we couldn’t get a Dark’n Stormy at all was at the Moorings Base Pool Bar).
I don’t mean to imply that dark’n stormy’s were the only rum drink we tried. We tested them all, mango-rum drinks, ice-cream rum drinks, rum and coke, and the local favorites the Painkilller and the Bushwacker. But most of these required more than just rum and a mixer, so these were our bar drinks, and we stuck to local beer and dark’n stormy’s on board.
Adjacent to the Pussers Store was a red, old-style British phone booth. Pictures are taken every 30 seconds. To see our group you can go to www.pussers.com and find the red box at Marina Cay. We’re in the hall of fame, or you can find us on Sunday July 5 at 105pm.
As this was one of our scheduled night’s out, we ate at the Marina Cay bar and restaurant (the open one). Our other options were to head to Donovan’s Reef on Scrub Island or take the ferry over to Trellis Bay on Tortola. As it was windy and rough, we chose the short dinghy ride over the longer (and undoubtedly wetter) trips to neighboring islands.
After 3 miserable nights with little sleep, I decided to try the cockpit. It was much cooler, even if, as Ed has previously said, sometimes it would be so windy it would blow your eyelids right open. It was a somewhat rolly night, and, yes, it was hot.
Another day, another early departure. The day dawned overcast and hazy. According to the NWS forecast I had read at Saba Rock, the haze and overcast, as well as the wind yesterday, were due to the passing of a tropical wave. The haze was called “Saharan conditions” and apparently consists of dust from the Sahara Desert that had blown across the Atlantic with the tropical wave. See pictures of the dust here: http://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/NaturalHazards/view.php?id=39210&src=nha and http://www.usatoday.com/weather/walm3.htm
http://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/Features/Dust/
While it was unfortunate that we had limited visibility, the clouds helped keep the temperature down, and we all needed a little break from sun exposure. (see picture)
Following our usual routine, we motored over to our snorkeling spot, charging the refrigerator holding plates while we traveled. Breakfast and coffee, then snorkeling. This time, we were at George Dog, a small uninhabited island between Virgin Gorda and Tortola. The seas were pretty high, as was the wind, and it was almost too much to land the dinghy. After much slipping and sliding and walking over shells and rocks, we managed to tie the dinghy up to some exposed rocks.
We snorkeled a bit, and beachcombed a bit, but it was really just too windy, so we headed back to the big boat and took off sailing to our next destination. We were now on the backside of Tortola, ½ way through our charter, and at last going downwind. And while this made the sailing more comfortable, it also made the sailing hotter which made us even gladder to have the ‘saharan dust’.
Marina Cay is a very small island, which has an interesting story, and is pretty enough. It is owned by the Pussers Rum Company, but I think it looks a lot prettier in the aerial photos than it does from the water or from the land.
Robb and Rodie White purchased Marina Cay for $60 in 1937, and built a house on the small uninhabited island as newlyweds. Their lives were hard as there was no water or electricity on the island, and even getting supplies seemed difficult. There is a photo of the alcohol powered refrigerator that must have seemed magical to them. In 1940, Robb was called to serve in the US Navy. On his return from the war, however, Robb and Rodie separated, and neither ever returned to their island. Robb wrote the book “Our Virgin Island”, which was later made into a movie called “Tale of Two Isles”.
The island IS beautiful, with lush (irrigated) landscaping, and a comfortable beach bar. There is also a bar at the top of the island, and we walked up the pathway for the view. (see picture) When we arrived, there was a woman sweeping, but no one else present. Only a few tables, and oddly, fewer chairs were scattered over the patio. Clearly, the bar was closed.
“When do you open?” Lydia, the only real conversant member of our group, asked the woman. She kept sweeping up the tiny leaves that littered the porch.
“December 31st”.
We took a few pictures and headed back to the beach bar, unwilling to wait 6 months even for a dark’n stormy.
As our supply of Dark’n Stormy supplies on the boat had dwindled, we stopped in at the Pussers Rum store to buy ‘provisions’. As we were checking out, a wise ass informed us that Dark’n Stormy’s really needed to be made only with Goslings Black Seal Rum and Barritts Ginger Beer (both Bermudian). As we were in the PUSSERS rum store, I thought this was a little insensitive. (The only place in the islands we saw Dark’n Stormys made with Goslings and Barritts was at the Soggy Dollar Bar in White Bay, Jost Van Dyke. Oddly, the only place we couldn’t get a Dark’n Stormy at all was at the Moorings Base Pool Bar).
I don’t mean to imply that dark’n stormy’s were the only rum drink we tried. We tested them all, mango-rum drinks, ice-cream rum drinks, rum and coke, and the local favorites the Painkilller and the Bushwacker. But most of these required more than just rum and a mixer, so these were our bar drinks, and we stuck to local beer and dark’n stormy’s on board.
Adjacent to the Pussers Store was a red, old-style British phone booth. Pictures are taken every 30 seconds. To see our group you can go to www.pussers.com and find the red box at Marina Cay. We’re in the hall of fame, or you can find us on Sunday July 5 at 105pm.
As this was one of our scheduled night’s out, we ate at the Marina Cay bar and restaurant (the open one). Our other options were to head to Donovan’s Reef on Scrub Island or take the ferry over to Trellis Bay on Tortola. As it was windy and rough, we chose the short dinghy ride over the longer (and undoubtedly wetter) trips to neighboring islands.
After 3 miserable nights with little sleep, I decided to try the cockpit. It was much cooler, even if, as Ed has previously said, sometimes it would be so windy it would blow your eyelids right open. It was a somewhat rolly night, and, yes, it was hot.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 6
Manchioneel Bay, Cooper Island to the Baths, Virgin Gorda to Saba Rock, Virgin Gorda
Up early and motoring again (into the wind and charging the holding plates in the refrigerator), this time headed to the Baths on the southwest side of Virgin Gorda. A boat high and dry on a reef reminded us to pay attention to where we were going.
We picked up one of about 20 red mooring balls, not too far from another boat. This was the first time Ed and I screwed up the mooring. Our procedure was to rig a line from one bow cleat across the bow (under the anchors) and pick up the mooring pick-up buoy on the other side. We’d string the line through the eye and tie off to the other bow cleat. Where I screwed up was getting the bridle on the wrong side of the genoa furling line and in trying to get it straight, I just made a bigger mess. We ended up using another line to take the load off the bridle until I could re-reave the line correctly.
Then it was breakfast and coffee and getting ready for shore and snorkeling. The crew from the other boat were on shore, but we still couldn’t figure out just where the Baths were or how to get to them. Bob, Kevin and Ed headed off on reconnaissance only to find that, once again, there were dinghy mooring areas, as well as signs leading us to the trail to Devils Bay. Things had changed since the guidebooks were written, apparently.
I think we were the first to take the trail that morning, and we were certainly the only group in Devils Bay. The Baths are piles of large round rocks creating small pools and steep climbs, with walkways and staircases to help the walkers get around and over the rocks. The other end of the trail was a perfect Caribbean beach. Unfortunately, we had left our snorkeling gear in the dinghy at the other end of the trail. We could have just walked back along the ½ mile trail, but nooooo. Ed and I decided on the adventure of swimming back, and I realized that I was more afraid of bottom than I was of the water. Once again, we had the ‘getting-in-the-dinghy-from-the-water’ problem. Ed got in first, and I was, once again, unceremoniously heaved into the bottom of the dinghy. How humiliating. (see picture)
The snorkeling to the south of Devils Bay was wonderful (see picture). We snorkeled over deep crevasses and through narrow spaces between the rocks. Lots of fish and coral and colors and sunlight thru the water making shifting patterns on everything underwater. Soon, the ferries began arriving dropping off hordes of day visitors, and we decided it was time to go. 10 am, right on schedule.
It was a challenging day of sailing, with both sails reefed and the tiltometer going off regularly. Again, we were sailing upwind, tacking into 20-25 kts of wind and 5-7 foot seas. The entrance to Gorda Sound, or Virgin Sound or North Sound is around the north side of Virgin Gorda—a narrow channel between two reefs (Mosquito Island and Prickly Pear Island). Bob and I had words about sailing too close and making the mark, but we got past it pretty quick.
The BVI did not look nearly as tropical as I expected. The islands looked more like they were in the Gulf of California—with cactus and grey, dry looking shrubs. There were few trees, or even tall shrubs, and the palms looked planted, as they were only at the resorts.
My mental picture of the BVI was also skewed regarding the resorts. I think the Pirates Cove and Coopers Island resorts were sort of like I had imagined, but I had envisioned North Sound as a developed and settled area with resorts lining the shoreline and people and sailboats and delivery boats and garbage boats scurrying everywhere. In truth, there were two teeny settlements and an even teenier rock. We moored at Saba Rock, but could also have picked up a mooring at the Bitter End Yacht Club or at Leverick Bay.
Saba Rock is small island with reefs to either side, but otherwise open to the sea and…Portugal?? These reefs extend to the main island of Virgin Gorda and the smaller Prickly Pear Island. The owner of the SR resort is into old outboards and has a small museum in the gift store. (see picture)
It was hot.
There was considerably more development at the Bitter End, (see picture) but even though the islands are small, the resorts felt smaller. There was a bar, a fuel dock, the hotel, a small conference facility, two curio/gift/grocery stores and the yacht shots store. The previous day we had been photographed by YachtShotsBVI—the pictures can be found at http:// for the next 2 months or so. It was hard to get really excited about the BEYC, although it was beautiful.
Dinner on board, and a good windy night. It was still hot though. As usual.
Up early and motoring again (into the wind and charging the holding plates in the refrigerator), this time headed to the Baths on the southwest side of Virgin Gorda. A boat high and dry on a reef reminded us to pay attention to where we were going.
We picked up one of about 20 red mooring balls, not too far from another boat. This was the first time Ed and I screwed up the mooring. Our procedure was to rig a line from one bow cleat across the bow (under the anchors) and pick up the mooring pick-up buoy on the other side. We’d string the line through the eye and tie off to the other bow cleat. Where I screwed up was getting the bridle on the wrong side of the genoa furling line and in trying to get it straight, I just made a bigger mess. We ended up using another line to take the load off the bridle until I could re-reave the line correctly.
Then it was breakfast and coffee and getting ready for shore and snorkeling. The crew from the other boat were on shore, but we still couldn’t figure out just where the Baths were or how to get to them. Bob, Kevin and Ed headed off on reconnaissance only to find that, once again, there were dinghy mooring areas, as well as signs leading us to the trail to Devils Bay. Things had changed since the guidebooks were written, apparently.
I think we were the first to take the trail that morning, and we were certainly the only group in Devils Bay. The Baths are piles of large round rocks creating small pools and steep climbs, with walkways and staircases to help the walkers get around and over the rocks. The other end of the trail was a perfect Caribbean beach. Unfortunately, we had left our snorkeling gear in the dinghy at the other end of the trail. We could have just walked back along the ½ mile trail, but nooooo. Ed and I decided on the adventure of swimming back, and I realized that I was more afraid of bottom than I was of the water. Once again, we had the ‘getting-in-the-dinghy-from-the-water’ problem. Ed got in first, and I was, once again, unceremoniously heaved into the bottom of the dinghy. How humiliating. (see picture)
The snorkeling to the south of Devils Bay was wonderful (see picture). We snorkeled over deep crevasses and through narrow spaces between the rocks. Lots of fish and coral and colors and sunlight thru the water making shifting patterns on everything underwater. Soon, the ferries began arriving dropping off hordes of day visitors, and we decided it was time to go. 10 am, right on schedule.
It was a challenging day of sailing, with both sails reefed and the tiltometer going off regularly. Again, we were sailing upwind, tacking into 20-25 kts of wind and 5-7 foot seas. The entrance to Gorda Sound, or Virgin Sound or North Sound is around the north side of Virgin Gorda—a narrow channel between two reefs (Mosquito Island and Prickly Pear Island). Bob and I had words about sailing too close and making the mark, but we got past it pretty quick.
The BVI did not look nearly as tropical as I expected. The islands looked more like they were in the Gulf of California—with cactus and grey, dry looking shrubs. There were few trees, or even tall shrubs, and the palms looked planted, as they were only at the resorts.
My mental picture of the BVI was also skewed regarding the resorts. I think the Pirates Cove and Coopers Island resorts were sort of like I had imagined, but I had envisioned North Sound as a developed and settled area with resorts lining the shoreline and people and sailboats and delivery boats and garbage boats scurrying everywhere. In truth, there were two teeny settlements and an even teenier rock. We moored at Saba Rock, but could also have picked up a mooring at the Bitter End Yacht Club or at Leverick Bay.
Saba Rock is small island with reefs to either side, but otherwise open to the sea and…Portugal?? These reefs extend to the main island of Virgin Gorda and the smaller Prickly Pear Island. The owner of the SR resort is into old outboards and has a small museum in the gift store. (see picture)
It was hot.
There was considerably more development at the Bitter End, (see picture) but even though the islands are small, the resorts felt smaller. There was a bar, a fuel dock, the hotel, a small conference facility, two curio/gift/grocery stores and the yacht shots store. The previous day we had been photographed by YachtShotsBVI—the pictures can be found at http:// for the next 2 months or so. It was hard to get really excited about the BEYC, although it was beautiful.
Dinner on board, and a good windy night. It was still hot though. As usual.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 5
The Bight, Norman Island to the Indians to Manchioneel Bay, Cooper Island
Our first morning on the boat set the pattern for the rest of the trip. Ed and Bob were up by 6am, and we left the mooring to motor over to the Indians and Pelican Island. These are reputed to be wonderful snorkeling, but the moorings were completely filled when we came by on Thursday. We were the second boat there, and we had the morning refrigerator hour done by 7am.
Coffee, bacon and eggs for breakfast, then into snorkeling gear. Lydia stayed behind, helping us meet the National Parks Trust requirements to always have someone on board. Abby and Allison chickened out, but Bob, Ed, Kevin and I snorkeled through some wonderful areas, including millions of minnows, and coral gardens and walls. After we got back I took the two girls back using a float because I thought it was worth it dragging them along.
Back in the boat, after showers and dry clothes, we then we headed off to Manchioneel Bay, Coopers Island, which was dead downwind. It was only 10am. The trades were blowing strongly from the east, right where we were headed, so we tacked through 15-20 knots and 4-6 foot seas. Lydia and Kevin both got seasick, and while I gave them meds, it was a little late. After that, Lydia took charge of the meds and we didn’t have any trouble for the rest of the trip.
By the time we got to the Cooper Island Beach Club, it was past lunch. As always, the anchorage was hotter than the open water so we didn’t want to cook. Unforutnately, again as always, shore was miserably hot, but the food was quite good. We made plans to come back there for one of our scheduled dinners out.
Abby and Allison wanted to snorkel at the reef to the east of the mooring field, so Ed took them over. We saw the blue mooring balls indicating a dinghy mooring line, so off they went. Again, a barracuda scared the girls right out of the water.
Bob took me, Lydia and the girls over early to shop in the little store where Abby actually found crocs in her size and favorite color and a necklace she wanted. I think both Lydia and Allison bought gifts as well. We headed to the bar and our dark’n stormy’s, joined by the boys in time to make our reservation.
The mooring fields were not packed, but neither were they empty, yet the resorts felt almost deserted. We stuck to making reservations for the rest of the trip, but it didn’t feel like we needed to. It was hard to imagine just how these places will feel during the season—would there be lines at the bar? Reservations needed? Boats anchored beyond the mooring field? Hopefully it wouldn’t be so hot.
Ed has found a cooler spot in the cockpit, but again it was a miserable, rolly, hot night for the rest of us. Kevin retreated to the cockpit as well when he couldn’t sleep.
Things I like about our 505 so far include the twin wheels, the normal sized berths, the narrow hallway outside our head (a great place to change clothes while underway), that it’s fairly dry in a seaway, that the genoa winches not in the seating area. Things I don’t like are the lack of a bimini over the helm, the peculiar dodger, the stinky heads. I love my composting toilet! Mostly, it is a lot like our boat only newer, while at the same time crudier and more worn out (it’s a charter boat, after all).
Our first morning on the boat set the pattern for the rest of the trip. Ed and Bob were up by 6am, and we left the mooring to motor over to the Indians and Pelican Island. These are reputed to be wonderful snorkeling, but the moorings were completely filled when we came by on Thursday. We were the second boat there, and we had the morning refrigerator hour done by 7am.
Coffee, bacon and eggs for breakfast, then into snorkeling gear. Lydia stayed behind, helping us meet the National Parks Trust requirements to always have someone on board. Abby and Allison chickened out, but Bob, Ed, Kevin and I snorkeled through some wonderful areas, including millions of minnows, and coral gardens and walls. After we got back I took the two girls back using a float because I thought it was worth it dragging them along.
Back in the boat, after showers and dry clothes, we then we headed off to Manchioneel Bay, Coopers Island, which was dead downwind. It was only 10am. The trades were blowing strongly from the east, right where we were headed, so we tacked through 15-20 knots and 4-6 foot seas. Lydia and Kevin both got seasick, and while I gave them meds, it was a little late. After that, Lydia took charge of the meds and we didn’t have any trouble for the rest of the trip.
By the time we got to the Cooper Island Beach Club, it was past lunch. As always, the anchorage was hotter than the open water so we didn’t want to cook. Unforutnately, again as always, shore was miserably hot, but the food was quite good. We made plans to come back there for one of our scheduled dinners out.
Abby and Allison wanted to snorkel at the reef to the east of the mooring field, so Ed took them over. We saw the blue mooring balls indicating a dinghy mooring line, so off they went. Again, a barracuda scared the girls right out of the water.
Bob took me, Lydia and the girls over early to shop in the little store where Abby actually found crocs in her size and favorite color and a necklace she wanted. I think both Lydia and Allison bought gifts as well. We headed to the bar and our dark’n stormy’s, joined by the boys in time to make our reservation.
The mooring fields were not packed, but neither were they empty, yet the resorts felt almost deserted. We stuck to making reservations for the rest of the trip, but it didn’t feel like we needed to. It was hard to imagine just how these places will feel during the season—would there be lines at the bar? Reservations needed? Boats anchored beyond the mooring field? Hopefully it wouldn’t be so hot.
Ed has found a cooler spot in the cockpit, but again it was a miserable, rolly, hot night for the rest of us. Kevin retreated to the cockpit as well when he couldn’t sleep.
Things I like about our 505 so far include the twin wheels, the normal sized berths, the narrow hallway outside our head (a great place to change clothes while underway), that it’s fairly dry in a seaway, that the genoa winches not in the seating area. Things I don’t like are the lack of a bimini over the helm, the peculiar dodger, the stinky heads. I love my composting toilet! Mostly, it is a lot like our boat only newer, while at the same time crudier and more worn out (it’s a charter boat, after all).
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 4
Road Town, Tortola to Water Point, Norman Island to The Bight, Norman Island
After a sweltering night, the grouchy captain and crew had cereal and coffee. This was our first encounter with our temperamental stove, which would frustrate us (just slightly) throughout the entire trip. We finished preparations by getting our floaties, picking out our snorkeling stuff, dinghying over to the bank to try to get the card (no luck yet), and repacking the refrigerator (note to self—pack all the meat in zip lock bags so that when they defrost all the meat juice doesn’t leak all over everything else in the top-loading refrigerator.)
At about 10am we were ready, and 2 Footloose staff came over to get us out of the slip (thank goodness for that). One woman drove us out of the slip then stepped off our boat as we passed close to the boat tied up at the fuel dock. An efficient and, hopefully, less damaging way of leaving the overcrowded marina.
And at last we were off.
It was still hot.
One early mistake was leaving up the peculiar dodger on our Beneteau 505. It had a tiny window in front that you could see out of only if you were sitting at the wheel. The tiny window had an even tinier opening window. And the dodger extended all the way to the bimini, so there was no way to be at the winches and have any idea what was going on with the sails. After we arrived at our first anchorage, we took the dodger down, and put it up only when we needed protection from the wind, such as when trying to eat in the cockpit while on a mooring.
I also had not studied the harbour plans sufficiently and we were a little intimidated by not having the usual chartplotter. We made it out of Road Harbour with no trouble, and maybe by the end of the week the lack of a chartplotter would feel less like trying to drive without a steering wheel.
We set sails as soon as we were out of the harbour, and Lydia was ready with the tilt-o-meter. Because Lydia is the least comfortable on the water, we are letting her decide when we need to flatten out the boat. This trip was a short (less than 1.5 hour) sail, so no one got seasick, and the tilt-o-meter only went off a few times and it was easy to fix (let the sails out some).
Our first stop was at the moorings under Water Point, just outside the Bight on Norman Island. The story is that Norman is the Treasure Island of Robert Louis Stevensons novel, and the Bight was the pirates cove. We picked up the mooring on the first pass and quickly jumped in to snorkel around the boat. It was great.
Lunch, then into the dinghy to check out Pirates Cove and the snorkeling at the west end of the bight. It was our first experience going from the water to land, and it made us very glad we were sailing instead of camping. We got drinks at the Cove while the kids prepared to snorkel. When they didn’t get in, and didn’t get in and didn’t get in, I walked down to hear them bleating about barracudas! I waded right in and swam off, thinking to show the kids that I wasn’t afraid. I saw him. I swam. I saw him behind me. I swam. I saw him AGAIN, about 5 feet behind me, stopping when I stopped, swimming when I swam. By then I was a little freaked out, so I just swam a wide circle around him back to the beach and climbed right on out and sat down in the shade and finished my dark n
‘n stormy.
When drinks were done we piled back into the dinghy, headed for the treasure caves around the point. We tied up to the dinghy mooring line (two small blue mooring balls linked by a line), jumped overboard with the float and split up into two groups. Ed had the kids and they saw a sea turtle. Lydia and Bob and I saw the caves up close and lots of fish and coral. It was fantastic.
But then we had to get back INTO the dinghy from the water. It wasn’t pretty. We all squirmed and kicked and got pulled and dropped into the bottom of the dinghy.
It was still hot.
Back at the boat, we found that a swarm of honeybees had moved on board. After a half hour of trying to scare them off, we gave up and moved our boat to a mooring in the windiest part of the bight’s mooring field. This worked great to keep the cabins ventilated and the bees away, but made it really hard to light the charcoal. We eventually gave up and cooked the shishkebobs in the skillet. It was hot, sweaty work.
When the sun shone in below the bimini, we hung our extra sheets up to provide a NC style shade for the boat. And when the sun went down, the sheets came in, not that it was ever cool enough to need a sheet or a blanket. It was another hot night, even with all of the fans blazing and the wind scoops set.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Abtnoski Adventure in the BVI: Day 3
Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas to Wickhams Cay II, Road Town, Tortola
As Ed, Bob and Lydia are all early risers, we were up early. We sent the boys out to rustle up some breakfast and Lydia called her Norwood friend to give us a ride to Coki Beach and back. After going down and up the steps and around a few blocks, Ed and Bob found the convenience store—which had a great selection of fresh juices, some bananas, and a few nutter butter bars and a piece of carrot cake. Enough to keep us from starving.
At 9am we were on the beach headed into the warm Caribbean waters. We rented snorkels and masks and they gave us ‘fish food’ (we here on the mainland call these things ‘dog biscuits’, but whatever). Apparently the fish are well used to the sight of humans bearing bone-shaped brown things as they swarmed us when we were about knee deep in the water. It was a little unnerving so I headed out to deeper water where the fish weren’t chasing me.
Lydia and Allison and Abby, after much screaming, sought refuge in the really shallow water. Those fish were really persistent, though and somehow got the idea that Lydia was the food source. They followed her everywhere. If they could have grown legs, I swear they would have walked right up to the bar with her. Which is where she headed as soon as it opened, needing something soothing after having to deal with those ravenous fish!
As it was only 1030, there was no food available, so we bought out the bars stash of potato chips and cheetos. Too bad we’d fed all the dog biscuits to the fish, or we might have eaten those as well. Then Lydia put her shopping skills to good use—she bartered for a handbag for me. It’s a Dolce and Gabanna. Or so it says. Bob thinks it’s a fake! I don’t see why designer bags wouldn’t be for sale for ¼ the retail price under a blue tarp on a tacky beach on a small island in the Caribbean? I’m not being unreasonable, am I?
A quick cab ride to the hotel to pick up our bags and rinse off our feet then down to the ferry terminal, where we had hoped to catch the 1200 ferry to Tortola. Good thing we were early, as the ferry was leaving at 1145 instead. Island time really seems to mean, whenever we feel like it, which might be early, or might be late.
Even on the ferry it was hot, though the wind-blown spray from the power cat cooled us off a bit. The girls stayed inside with the AC down below and watched Beverly Hills Chihuahua. Weird. It was very rough at first until we turned the corner around St John and we were shielded from the seas by the islands.
Customs in the BVI is like anywhere else, low level officials trying to act important and necessary to national security. I never joke with these people—I don’t think they’d get it anyway.
Another cab from the Ferry to the Moorings Base. It was not just hot here. It was REALLY hot. Somehow the winds didn’t make it back in to Wickhams Cay II and the air was motionless and stifling. Luckily the Footloose office was airconditioned so we all spent way more time that we needed to looking at the 2 charts on the walls and browsing through the small book exchange.
We had originally asked to charter the Footloose/Moorings 403, but it was not available to we chartered the 433, which had 3 full cabins, and a wall that could make the owners cabin into a double plus 2 bunks, which we thought we’d use for the girls. We were all a little worried that it might be too small.
Two weeks before our charter, we got a call from Footloose saying the 433 had mechanical problems and they ‘had’ to upgrade us to a 505! This boat has 4 equal cabins with 4 equal heads, and a Bunkie crew cabin and head up front. Twin wheels and a big cockpit should be enough for the seven of us.
Because we were doing the sleepaboard, we were told we had a ‘chart briefing’ at the Moorings Briefing Room at 1600, and could board our yacht by 1800. We had a late lunch at the open air restaurant, then drinks and swimming at the pool.
Then, Bob went to get some cash from the ATM on the dock and watched in disbelief as the machine spit out his card, then quickly sucked it back in, never to release it! While everyone had a different idea, it turns out the bank had closed at 3pm (it was nearly 4pm) and there was just nothing we could do.
We went to the briefing, got on the boat and chose cabins. Girls were starboard forward, Kevin was port forward, Ed and Lydia had port aft and Bob and I had starboard aft. All of the cabins were hot (big surprise there) and all the heads stank (big surprise there, too!). We decided to use the crew cabin for garbage and storage.
Dinner was at the Moorings restaurant where they tried to make us feel small and insignificant because we didn’t have a reservation even though the restaurant was never more than ½ filled. Again, it was open air, and it was hot. Good food, though and good service as well.
Back to the boat to wait for Bobby’s to deliver the provisions. Allison asked why we didn’t just call them groceries, as that is what they are. Boaters just want to sound special, so we call things provisions (groceries), heads (toilets), galleys (kitchens), etc. Lydia and I packed away the food while the kids showered. We discovered the AC ‘spa showers’, and then headed back to the boat to try to sleep.
It was hot.
We tried putting up the ‘wind scoops’ but, as the name implies, there must be wind TO scoop before these would be of any use. The Footloose Dock is closest to the road at the end of Road Harbour and has the least wind. It might be worth paying for a Moorings boat just to get some wind that first night. I’m not sure I’d do the sleepaboard and actually try to SLEEP aboard in the summer. Next time, if there is a next time, I’d lean toward arranging the provisioning and paying for the sleepaboard and then getting a room at the Mariners Inn anyway. That way you get to leave early, though I guess you could just pay for a whole additional day…
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