"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be."          Douglas Adams

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2007

My sabbatical begins. A little late. Departed St John late July headed for Carriacou...but only made it 15 miles before turning around! The hydraulic steering cylinders, which I had rebuilt in June, crashed! Leaking hydraulic fluid from an apparent arterial wound! So, back to St John. The shop worked on them again, but told me they were really old and worn out, I should think about replacing them. Great! Tell me that AFTER charging me lots of money to "rebuild" them. Well, the second attempt failed before leaving the mooring, so I tracked down an equivalent replacement, spent a week installing them (additional structural members required, etc). So, finally, a month late, and after letting hurricane Dean go by, I am on my way South. 

Second day out, and a plane sets off my radar detector, flying nearly straight at me beneath the height of my mast! he passes, wiggles his wings, and turns. I raise him on the radio: Netherland Antilles Coast Guard, wanting me to check out an overturned small sailboat 9 miles West. So, I head towards the coordinates they provide, with the place circling over the "wreckage" and a smoke bomb to guide me in....all rather dramatic! The boat turns out to be an Optimist pram, typically used to teach kids sailing. I right it (no bodies underneath!). It is beaten up; probably got loose from Martinique when hurricane Dean passed over earlier in the week. The flotation compartments are too full of water to pull it up on deck (I don't want it anyway), and too full of air to sink it, so I leave it and sail off. The Coasties ask my email address and sent me pics they had taken.

It has been a year since I did a multi-night passage, and two since I did one singlehanded. On the whole, it was uneventful.  Soon after arriving in Carriacou, though, events became more "eventful": tropical storm Felix passed over the island. Carriacou has a good mangrove-enclosed harbor for a hurricane refuge. The one problem with it is it is rather large, so many boats are in close proximity. And, a hurricane hole is only as good as the boats nearby make it! In this case, a large steel boat pulled in next to me, tied to the mangroves, and threw out one anchor behind. They then proceeded to pull the anchor all the way to the boat by hand without it setting at all. Hmmm. Not good. They have a perfectly good plow anchor on the bow (which is in to the mangroves), but instead they throw the suspect anchor out again and hope it holds. About midnight, when the wind goes above 20, of course, the anchor drags and they are into the boat on the other side of them. Well, that is not my problem...but when the wind shifts, they will be piling into me. Since I have 3 anchors out behind me, I untie one and take the line to them. I am not quite so fixed in place, but at least they are less likely to hit me. The problem with large hurricane holes is your neighbors who do not have as many or as large of anchors as you. Fortunately, this was only a small tropical storm. But then, if it was a hurricane, I would have most likely been in my semi-secret hurricane hole in Grenada (see 2004).

2006

Big plans for hurricane season this year: my friend and dive instructor Alice (see 2004) is flying in for a month of diving and sailing Tobago and the Grenadines. Ken, another friend, will meet us in Bequia and sail along. He use to own a sistership to Fellow Traveler (Ken flips boats, buying them at "distressed sales" , fixing the major issues, and reselling them). He tells me how I will have a hard time keeping up with him on his newest boat, a Gulfstar 43. So, obviously, THIS IS SERIOUS! We are talking bragging rights here! Well, in light winds (not Fellow Traveler's strength) we left Bequia, sailing side by side all afternoon. After dark, the winds picked up slightly, and slowly, I pulled ahead through the night, so that before dawn, his nav lights were not in sight. Come the dawn, though, and with winds still light, I decided to try flying both the staysail and jib (I had only that summer added the inner-forestay that turned Fellow Traveler into a cutter). Well, the staysail added about 1/2 a knot, and we pulled into Man 0f War Bay over an hour ahead of the competition. 

So, Tobago, a new island to explore! Diving/snorkeling was kind of hit or miss, visibility often low. This is a summer phenomenon due to Tobago's proximity to the rivers of South America, which are in the midst of their rainy season. We got one dive in, a drift dive. with Alice towing the dinghy at up to 60 feet. What immediately impressed us both was the size of stuff: fish, coral, whatever, it was all big! 

While the visibility limited our underwater experiences, the rest of the island wowed us! Friendliest people in the Eastern Caribbean, beautiful hiking, lots of waterfalls, and  good food. Anchorages are rather exposed and rolly, but we knew this in advance. 

The Grenadines gave us diving with the visibility we are both use to the Caribbean (yes, we are spoiled!). Besides, they are my favorite place in the Caribbean (so far), so it is always nice to hang out here. But, eventually, Alice had to go find a job (diving, what else?) and I had to get Fellow Traveler ready for a charter: acquaintances Jim and Mike had decided to spend a week exploring all the undeveloped beaches and pristine anchorages  I know of in the Grenadines. 

I have debated at times past how much, if any, I want to charter Fellow Traveler. In the end, I have decided not to pursue them. But, if all charter guests were as pleasant a company as Mike and Jim were, then maybe I would want to do more, even if they are exhausting! In the end, though, the needs for a bluewater cruiser and a charter yacht are just too different, and it is just too hard to try to morph Fellow Traveler from one to the other.

Summer, 2004

Fellow Traveler's shake-down cruise! My all-St John crew included Dave, Pat, and Alice. We left the Virgins in a 15-18 knot breeze with the wind just North of East, heading for Nevis. Nearing the East end of Saint Croix, however, and a problem arose! The webbing that formed the tack attachment  for the Genny had solar-degraded from being left on the boat for a number years before I owned her. I had checked the sail out to make sure there was no UV damage to the material, but did not think to check the webbing. It looked fine, and held up to some regular daysails around Saint John. Did I mention that Dave is captain of his own boat, Wings, an extremely fast (although very spartan) Newick trimaran? He has a good bit of sailing under his belt. And here, just 5 hours into sailing, we have a problem. He is giving me the same look Ollie gives Stanley just before he says, "Well, this is another fine mess you got me in!". NP. We drop the sail down on deck, drag it to the cockpit, and while rolling around in the swells under main alone, we stitch on new webbing. I win Dave back when, to make it easier for the needle to go through two layers of webbing and many layers of sailcloth, I break out the cordless drill with a tiny bit to pre-drill the holes.  Alice does the lion's share of work, though, as both Dave and I are queasy. Alice gets the Old -Salt's stomach award!

Our entry into Nevis was, well, not glorious. We were in sight of it for 1/2 a day while we beat halfway down to Montserratt, then all the way back to St Kitts, and still had miles to go. Well, they say it takes 3 sails to go to windward: the mainsail, the headsail, and the diesel! 

Cruising the leewards in summer means having it all to yourself. English Harbour, winter yachting capital of the world (i.e., someplace I try to avoid) was empty save for Nelson's ghost. Deshaies, in Guadeloupe is a pretty town on a pretty anchorage with a very French Creole feel. The hiking up the creek to the waterfall was good fun.

From Deshaies, a long daysail brought us to Iles de Saintes. While more touristy than Deshaies, "the Saintes" have tons of charm: petite little islands with a great village, a couple of nice beaches, and some nice hikes. Cars are not allowed on the island without a permit, which is nice, except for the motor-scooters buzzing around. There is a beautifully restored Fort at the top of the hill just out of town, with a decent museum inside: well worth the modest price. 

Other stops included Dominica, St Anne, Martinique, and Rodney Bay, where the crew all flew out and the captain continued on solo.

Carriacou is one of my favorite islands in the Caribbean, with almost no tourism except for cruisers. And each summer they host the Carriacou Regatta, which features traditional "two-bow" boats (based on whale boat designs of 100 years ago), fishing sloops, as well as the yachts. It has become an annual gathering of  friends from around the Eastern Caribbean as we head South for summer to avoid the hurricanes. This year, among other fun stuff, I got to race on a Swan 48. Following this, I stopped to see other friends in Grenada before heading on to Trinidad to deal with the kidney stone that had been complicating my life all summer. Trinidad offers quality medical care a fraction of the costs in the US. Good think, too, as it nearly cleaned me out dealing with it.

I had left Grenada about 1 week ahead of Hurricane Ivan, and was glad it missed Trinidad. Trinidad has been hit by hurricanes in the past, and will again, and when it happens, it will be ugly for the yachting sector! But, this time it was Grenada's turn. It was sad to see the steady stream of battered boats pour in to Trinidad the next week or more. Soon after, I was sailing North, loaded with bottled water, tarps for roofs, a bottle of oxygen for a sailor with emphysema who lived on his boat in Hog Island, and lots of food and other emergency supplies for both locals an cruisers. I delivered the supplies to the Coast Guard dock in Prickly Bay, and the sights were very depressing: boats totally up on shore, sunk on reefs, everywhere but where they belong, which is floating. 

I was shocked at the number of boats that chose to ride out a major hurricane in an exposed harbor like Prickly Bay. I have my semi-secret hurricane hole in Grenada: the NE mangrove channel in Calivigny Harbor. I had shown an Aussie friend this spot a few weeks before when TS Earl passed by, and he, and other friends, went in there early for Ivan. All survived with only minor scrapes.  

One thing I saw but could not believe: a 50 Benneteau which had it's bow sawn 3/4 of the way off through by a halyard that had gotten caught under the bow. When it went tight, it did it's destruction. Most cruisers speak despairingly about "Bendy Toy" boats, but here was living proof of the lack of adequate layup. Steel wire? Sure. But a rope sawing through your boat at it's (supposedly) strongest point? I also saw a family I'd met up island earlier in the summer. They and their boat survived the storm with minor damage, but were so shell-shocked, they sold the boat within days of the storm and were flying back to the US!

I left Grenada to return to Carriacou, where I had a haulout scheduled at the best boatyard in the Caribbean (IMO): Tyrell Bay Yacht Haulout. Great management, great workers, and low stress! Within 24 hours of splashing, I was headed back to St John, where my work as a banquet bartender at the Westin had a large group in house in Oct., putting some well-needed cash into my account! What with kidney stones and hurricanes, it was not the most relaxing summer of sailing, but it was nice to get Fellow Traveler out of St John and let her romp!