We left St. Thomas on 14th February, eager to get out of Charlotte Amalie because we'd been stuck there so long, thanks to whatever chest ailment I had that I just could not shake) and various "projects". For future reference, whenever you see the word "project", know that it means something broke on the boat that needed immediate repair that requires at least two visits by Phillip to find the right parts.
JOST VAN DYKE
We headed for Jost Van Dyke in the British Virgin Islands because it was on the way to Anegada, one of the islands Phillip has been promising to take me to ever since I met him. Why Anegada? He says they serve the best crayfish in the world - when I heard that, it was a case of "say no more!" It was too far to sail to Anegada in one day, so that's why we stopped in Jost Van Dyke, the home of the famous Foxy's Bar, which is a huge establishment serving dinner (all you could eat bbq on the night we were there), great drinks, right on the beach, and everyone who has ever been there leaves a souvenir strung up somewhere - a t-shirt, a cap, business cards, photos, a shoe, a pair of panties, men's underwear even - pretty much whatever you have on that you think you don't need any more that night.
http://www.foxysbar.com/home.html
This is Jost Van Dyke. Around the corner in the next bay is the Soggy Dollar Bar, aptly named because a lot of sailors and cruisers just dive off their boats and swim to shore, so their money is wet when they order drinks.
This is the Customs office
We really liked it in the bay, it’s pretty, an easy anchorage, but not the kind of place you want to be for New Year's Eve - there are so many boats that they are tied up 5 or 6 abreast and it literally takes you three or four days to get your boat out of there, once other people have untied from you.
Proof I was there :-)
When we tried to check out of customs on the 15th, (the following day), we got one of those "non-cooperative, I'm the boss, you'll do as I say" customs officials. We explained we wanted to spend a day in Anegada, and that it would still take us about 2 days to get there, so could he be so kind as to put on our customs departure form a date two days from now. NO, came back the resounding answer, you have one day to get out of the BVI's. When we asked why he couldn't put the date as two days from now, he explained the logic: "What if you like it there and want to spend more than two days there? NO, you have one day." (Can anyone understand the logic behind that?)
So we left Jost van Dyke with only one day to depart the BVI’s and headed towards Marina Cay, a pretty spot with a Pusser's Store,
http://www.pussers.com/outposts/marina_cay
a hotel, and just a nice place to pick up a buoy. After buying some postcards and pancake mix and taking photos, we headed off towards Cooper Island, which is a great island to swim and snorkel with turtles, something I was really keen on doing. For some reason, Phillip decided we'd be better off on Guana Island, in White Bay - something to do with a better angle of departure to get to Saba, so sadly I didn't get to swim with the turtles, but obviously fate had something else in mind for us, with our change of plans.
We arrived in White Bay, a charming anchorage, very quiet, and no other boats around apart from a few fishing boats moored to buoys.
http://www.b-v-i.com/GuanaIsland/default.htm
We anchored and watched another boat (charter boat) glide in slowly and try to anchor.
Sometimes the people on charter boats don't have a clue what they're doing, and we have spent many a happy hour watching them spin around in circles, throw the anchor and bounce it off the bow of the boat leaving great big dents in the chassis, or just give up and leave. After a few minutes of watching these people try to anchor, we noticed the boat going in circles and the owners struggling with something on the bow - Phillip knew immediately they were in trouble (his experienced eye I guess?) and leapt into the dinghy, raced over and offered assistance. They had unfortunately got their anchor wrapped around their keel, and the woman on the boat's blood sugar was very low (she was diabetic) and needed to get some food, so they were in a bad way. Their boat was within feet of a moored fishing boat, and Phillip arrived just in time to help them fend off. He got in the water and unwrapped the anchor chain and helped them anchor safely - what a blessing we'd anchored in White Bay
because it could have turned out a lot worse for these poor people. They were so appreciative of his help, they gave him a bottle of Rum (so you know how his eyes lit up) and he invited them over to have drinks with us that evening. They are from England, Mark and Caroline, and were the most delightful people we could have hoped to meet, just wonderful. We had the best evening with them (it was Mark's birthday), and were very sad that we were leaving the following morning and couldn't spend more time with them. Just lovely people. So it was obviously meant to be - that we missed out on Cooper Island and the turtles for the greater good.
Before they came over for drinks, Phillip and I went ashore for a stroll on the beach and P shimmied up a tree and got two coconuts - he opened them on the boat, one of them was bad and after he'd thrown it overboard, we noticed with horror a brown scorpion in the cockpit - thankfully it hadn't stung him or else we'd have been in serious trouble.
P tossed it overboard and got onto the more important job of opening the second coconut, which was delicious.
After White Bay, we headed to Leverick Bay (Virgin Gorda) where we loaded the dinghy onto the boat and prepared for our overnight passage. We sailed right past Necker Island (see below)
and headed to Saba. This was my first overnight passage and not something I particularly enjoyed. I did my watches OK, feeling a bit queasy (which, admittedly, I blame on my day old sweet and sour chicken) but had to wake P twice when things didn't seem right with lights on the horizon. The first time was just a sailboat on an almost parallel course to us - just edging a little closer every half hour, so P changed our course briefly to we made sure we missed it. The second time, I'd had my eyes on a red/green light far behind us (if you see a red light on a boat, it means it's going from right to left, or starboard to port. If you see a green light, it means it's going from port to starboard, or left to right. If you see both red and green navigation lights on a boat, it means it's heading right towards you). I watched the red and green light approach slowly for about an hour and a half and saw it getting closer and closer and saw that it was on a direct course for us, and was a big vessel. I woke P who guessed that this tanker hadn't seen us, and it was within a mile of us - so he put the spreader lights on, and as soon as they went on, the tanker's course changed ever so slightly, so in the end it went past us to our starboard, but within a quarter mile - much too close for comfort. P also called them on the radio to make sure they'd seen us, and got a belated "roger that" when it had pulled ahead of us. They obviously hadn't seen us until the spreader lights went on, but that was a very close encounter and not something I had enjoyed. The key to successful night navigation is to assume that every boat you see hasn’t seen you, and it’s your responsibility to avoid them, not the other way around. We have a friend (who shall remain nameless) who recently bought a sailboat. He didn’t take lessons and figured he’d pick it up on the way. He is too afraid to take the boat in and out of a marina, so the boat is mostly docked and he doesn’t leave town. On those times he does leave town, he’ll sail for ages (he motored single handedly from Fort Lauderdale to the Chesapeake Bay) by himself. I asked him how he copes with sleeping – he said he sets his autopilot and then goes downstairs and sleeps. I said “what about collisions with other boats, aren’t you afraid of that?” and he said no, that’s their problem, he figures everyone else out there needs to watch out for themselves, it’s not his problem. How he hasn’t ended up in an accident, I don’t know.
SABA
The next morning when the sky began getting pale I saw Saba in the distance, hiding behind clouds, very hard to spot. Can you see it?
As I watched the sun rise, to my amazement, I saw a massive dolphin leap out of the water about 40 yards ahead of the boat to our port. I rushed forward to the bow (well, staggered forward holding onto everything I could) and watched, holding my breath, as we passed over about 5 or 6 dolphins, and they continued leaping out of the water, within 10 yards of the boat - they were MASSIVE dolphins, biggest I've ever seen - it was the most spectacular sight and I was privileged to see them.
We arrived in Saba around 10.30.
http://www.sabatourism.com/
Saba (pronounced say-bah) is a huge extinct volcano that rises out of the sea to great heights. The lower parts, the cliffs that are mostly visible when you arrive, seem very rugged and barren, with seagulls in their thousands wheeling around crying mournfully, giving it an almost hostile and inhospitable appearance.
You feel as if you've stepped straight into a David Attenborough documentary and almost expect to see him wrapped in an orange rain jacket with a film crew, creeping up on walruses or seals. The south end of the island is where you check in with customs, and the appearance is that of a construction site - certainly not the prettiest port we've ever seen
but the welcome we got from the marine park official was wonderful - warm, welcoming, helpful - everything that Jost van Dyke was not. It cost us $8 a night to use one of their mooring buoys (and covers their marine park dues and they even give you a couple of whistles!), and then we went to check in at Customs and got another warm welcome ($20 for check in) - the customs guys were helpful, they called us a taxi and made us feel very much welcome. We waited for our taxi at a restaurant overlooking the ocean called In Two Deep – we had been waiting outside for the taxi, but the owner came out and asked us to come and wait inside, out of the heat, and we chatted with a couple of colorful locals there while we waited for the taxi. When the taxi came, Donna, our driver, explained that we could have an island tour for $50, or else just go to the towns and look around. We opted for a look around because we wanted to get back to our boat by about 3 so we could go and snorkel. Donna fearlessly drove us through "the Bottom" and onwards and upwards through hairpin bends and cliffside roads.
Below is "the Bottom",
the town consisting of the Saba University School of Medicine (see below) and most of the official/government buildings.
She then took us on a hair raising drive up steep roads with less than a foot to the edge of the road, a small protective wall and then breathtaking drops down sheer cliffs. The only comparison I could make would be to Capri in Italy - incredible views of surrounding islands (Statia, St. Kitts in the distance), shimmering blue sea as far as the eye can see - just stunning.
Saba is NOT for anyone with Agoraphobia or Acrophobia. A couple of times I just shut my eyes and pointed my camera out of the window, just hoping to get a good shot but afraid to see what I we were driving past.We had lunch in a wonderful restaurant (Eden) in the town of Windwardside, which is a charming town high up, surrounded by lush rainforests, teeming with tropical birds, lizards, monkeys and a variety of small animals. It is delightful - we felt a distinct drop in temperature, but what amazed us was the difference in the surroundings - from the forboding, austere cliffs at sea level to the delightful, almost alpine feeling of the higher up areas.
Lunch was fabulous, the food had a definite European flair, not surprising as the delightful owners, Norbert (Executive Chef) and his partner, Nina, who share their Dutch and Norwegian heritage and cultures through their menu and superb cuisine.
http://www.edensaba.com/
We had one of the best home made hamburgers we've ever had while trying to take photographs of the elusive resident hummingbird who fluttered around until the second I grabbed my camera - then he either sat on a branch preening himself and ignoring me, or turned his back to me and snubbed me. The minute I put my camera down, up he flew, darting in and out of the flowers - just a joy to watch.
We wanted the Saba stamp in our passports, but when Donna took us to the immigration office in the Bottom, the office was closed, so no luck there. Phillip managed to find some cheap rum ($4 per bottle, not as cheap as Venezuela but he felt compelled to buy some.)
The roads were treachorous - some of them so steep and windy I don't know why there aren't more accidents there. I think tourists renting cars must find it very difficult - I personally wouldn't drive there if you paid me!
Snorkeling that afternoon was a huge effort. We had to take the dinghy around the west side of the island and motor about 20 minutes along sheer cliff faces, rocky unwelcoming beaches and huge boulders, to moor on the snorkeling buoy provided by the island.
We had been assured of turtles and barracuda, but alas we didn't see anything apart from four scuba divers, a surprised looking parrot fish, and a handful of indistinguishable fish swimming through the boulders. There was coral - nothing really stunning, but the visibility was excellent, so we'd rate it about 5 out of 10. We had moored Dephinus on the south side of the island near the customs building but the swell there was rough and our boat was rolling around like a bucking bronco, so we decided to move the boat to the west side, near where we'd been snorkeling, as the sea was definitely calmer there. We moored in the shadow of the cliffs, about 100 yards offshore and had a relatively easy time until about midnight when the swell picked up. We had been warned about the swell, and all I can say was that the warnings were not enough. The boat tossed and leapt around, heeling over until I could see our portholes in our cabin were going below the waterline, and well secured items on the tiny shelf above our bunk leapt off, a tube of face cream hitting me on my forehead and cutting me (well, it was a scratch but there was blood, therefore I am considering it a huge cut, almost worth of stitches and it means I couldn't possibly do any cooking or cleaning for at least a month). Neither of us could sleep so at first light, we pulled in the lines and off we set to St. Kitts. It was a rough trip - but the final images of Saba were of her covered in cloud, like a tablecloth, with a brilliant rainbow, and grey, angry rain clouds all around.
Leaving Saba behind.
We hit several squalls, the seas were rough, so I was not a happy camper until we hit the quieter waters of St. Kitts and Nevis.
We anchored the first night on the south side of St. Kitts, in Majors Bay, sharing it with three other boats until Paul and Joyce arrived on their lovely boat, the Lady H, and anchored next to us. We went and had drinks with them, but we were all so exhausted that after half an hour, I just stood up and said sorry, I need to go to bed. That's the lovely thing about them - they're great friends and there is no need to stand on ceremony - they felt the same way I think (tuckered out), so we left and headed to our boat. In the night, winds must have reached 40 miles an hour - it was HOWLING - but the boat just bobbed up and down gently like we were on a mill pond. We must have been so sheltered in that anchorage that even though we could hear and feel the wind, the water in the anchorage was not affected at all – definitely one of my favorite anchorages of all time. The cloud cover was remarkable – as you can see from the photos, I took a pic of the Lady H in the morning with Nevis in the background, and 20 minutes later I took another photo – you couldn’t even SEE Nevis through the clouds and rain. See below for the photos of the Lady H, before and after the rain arrives.
We've now moored off Charlestown, Nevis (anchoring is not allowed as there is sea grass for the turtles in the bay), and after checking in with the police/immigration, we checked in at customs and had a delightful half hour talking with Andreas, the customs official, a charming, witty customs official who had us chuckling from the minute we walked through the door. Since we've been here, we visited the hot springs (the photos are really worth a thousand words) where the sulphuric water from the volcano bubbles through into a manmade tiled tub the size of a Jacuzzi, with about 5 steps into it. The water was HOT (yes, I know, it does say Hot Springs, but you don't expect it to be quite that hot), and it didn't smell of sulphur (obviously it is filtered) and it gave Paul a chance to soak his back (the heat helped him a lot).
We went to the supermarket and I couldn't resist taking a photo of these chicken stock powder packets.
We were there on Phillip's birthday. Unfortunately by mistake we'd left the water pump on the boat (something we NEVER do) and of course when we got back, one of the internal screws had broken and all the water on the boat had poured out into the bilges and engine compartment, all the 80 gallons we had left and had worked so hard to save. Phillip had a spare pump but that broke too, so he had to salvage the deck wash pump, remove that and install that, and hopefully we'll be OK until we reach Trinidad where we can buy a new pump. It was really upsetting. We skimp and save our water, showering for maybe 3 minutes a day if that, trying to save every drop - and there it was, wasted in the bottom of the boat. Thank goodness Phillip is so handy, and also thank goodness we were in port because we were able to shower on Paul's boat, he gave us 5 gallons of water, and we had enough fuel to run the water maker for about 20 hours to make some more water.
We were also very lucky in that a friend of mine lives on the island and runs one of the 5* resorts, the Nisbet Plantation, and he invited Phillip and me to their weekly beach bbq and dance, which was absolutely fabulous. The Nisbet Plantation is on the north of the island, just a tad to the east so that we're actually facing the Atlantic Ocean (which would explain why the seas are so rough), and while it was blowing a gale, the bbq was outstanding. Grilled snapper, grouper, wahoo, mahi mahi, tuna, shrimp, a wide variety of salads and home made dressings, not to mention a great selection of desserts. It was excellent, made better only by the kind offer of my friend to host us as his guests for a couple of days (I think he could tell I needed a couple of nights in a still bed with lingering hot showers). I could have kissed him. So here we are, in the lap of luxury, being pampered and spoilt, sleeping in a king size bed with Egyptian 600 thread count sheets, and only having to make decisions about what time to go for breakfast or dinner. To say it’s gusty is an understatement – it is blowing like crazy at the moment. Walking on the beach is a painful, stinging experience and if you’re outside, you have to lean forward into the wind to make any progress. Just crazy!
http://www.nisbetplantation.com/
What a wonderful resort - only 36 rooms, so it is very exclusive, and was the home of Lord Horatio Nelson and his wife, Fanny Nisbet. Lady Hamilton was his bit on the side (in England), so this was an actual plantation. We had dinner in the formal dining room both evenings, The Great House, where the food is absolutely superb and service is second to none. It really is great being able to log into the internet again and make phone calls to family and friends - what a luxury it is to have wifi again after not having it for a week. We have had the most wonderful time in this marvelous, exclusive resort - thank you to our friend for his kind hospitality. He invited us to stay longer, but we're anxious to get back to the boat as we don't like to leave her unattended for too long. Too bad, I could easily manage to stay a few more nights :-)
Our future plans:
We hope to leave Nevis on Thursday or Friday and head south to Montserrat where we will anchor overnight (won't go ashore though). There is a 15 mile exclusion zone around the south of the island, due to the eruption in December last year. After that we head to The Saints which is part of Guadeloupe, but we won't go ashore in Guadeloupe due to the civil unrest and strikes. After the Saints, we want to spend a week in Dominica, which all the cruisers we've met says is one of the most wonderful, friendly and beautiful islands in the Caribbean. After that St. Lucia to pick up spare parts for the water pump. Then we hope to spend a night or two anchored off Palm Island (a private island in St. Vincent and the Grenadines) where I have another friend at another resort. We won't go ashore in St. Vincent because they have the highest crime rate in the Caribbean. After that, we hope to get to the Tobago Cays where Antony and Mel are hoping to come and visit for a few days - supposed to be the most beautiful waters in the Caribbean. After that, Trinidad (Phillip says Scotland Bay has the best phosphorescence he's ever seen - at night, you stamp your foot on the boat and all the water around your boat lights up - it's truly something to be seen to be believed). After Trinidad, we have to go to Venezuela, the island of Margarita, to stock up on RUM (which really is the sole purpose of this trip). These are our plans today, but as you all know, once we get underway, there is a 90% chance that our plans will change on a day to day basis.
