"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure.
Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all."       Helen Keller 

From 2001 - 2007 I based myself in the US Virgin Islands, spending part of the each year there working in the tourist trade, and then travelling in the hurricane season. In early 2004 I purchased Fellow Traveler and began a business running backpack charters on her. The plan was for this to be a year-round occupation, sailing  Fellow Traveler slowly around the Caribbean with different crew coming aboard. However, despite very reasonable prices, business was slow getting started, and the "crew", who were suppose to help with all boat chores in return for the bargain price, all too often left a mess for me to deal with. So, instead, I began actual charters: charging a higher price and providing a higher level of service. Thus, the trips below are a mixture of Backpack charters, regular charters, and personal sailing during hurricane season while I earned most of my money working other boats as a captain, mostly in the Virgin Islands.

 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 Montserrat, 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 thing, 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 and 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 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! While waiting for the haulout, though, I took the opportunity to sail around Carriacou. The Windward side of the island is the traditional boat-building center of the region. The town, called Windward, is sheltered by a barrier reef about a mile out, and another reef in close. While this would not be a great place to hang out in strong winter trades, during the light airs and heat of hurricane season, it makes for good exploring. It is possible to sail the complete windward side of Carriacou behind the barrier reef, with a snug, but easy exit out a pass on the South East corner of the Island. Snorkeling, however, was not comparable to that found on the South side of the island or around Sister Rocks out behind Tyrell Bay.

My turn came to haul, and 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!

2005

My summer got off to a bad start when I was sick for a month with some unknown virus that started during a visit to the States to see my mother and friends, and fortunately dissipated just before my first "backpack" charter in June in St Martin. My friend Peter graciously offered to accompany me on the overnight to St Martin as I was still in recovery mode and unsure I would have the energy to make the trip solo.

Three crew joined me in St Martin and sailed with me to Antigua. This trip provided me with my first visit to St Barts, whose many tales other sailors have told me for years. Well, I guess you had to be there in the "good old days", as it just seemed like another tourist island to me. We planned to go to Barbuda from Nevis so as to visit another new place for the captain, but the day it was planned there was a steady 25 knots from the ENE. Instead, we had a fast and exhilarating passage down to Montserrat. I have sailed by this island in years past, close to windward, and seen the glow at the top of the volcano, but it was benign of this visit. From there it was a reasonable sail over to Antigua once the winds back to the typical summer ESE pattern and the crew could catch their planes back to the real world. I, on the other hand, had another crew meeting me to sail onwards.

While the general direction planned for the two weeks was Southward, we started by going in the opposite direction and I finally got to Barbuda. The unspoiled scenery was every bit as beautiful as had always been described, and there was only one other boat in view along the many miles of beach while we were there. This island is high on my list of favorites in the Eastern Caribbean. Proceeding Southwards again, we stopped back in Antigua before heading on to Deshaies and the Saintes, always favorites of mine along this path. From the Saintes, we beat out to Windward to visit Marie Galante, yet another new stop for the Captain. While this island lacks the spectacular scenery of the rest of the Windwards and Leewards, being relatively flat, it is definitely off the beaten path and thus has its charms. It also is home to a large number of rhum distilleries (as the French spell the liquor), and one can still see oxen pulling carts of sugar cane to the distilleries and sugar refinery.

Last stop was Dominica, where the crew had plans to do a week of diving while I sailed on South.

I sailed on down to Martinique, quickly moving to St Anne, my favorite stop on this island. While there, my attention turned Eastward: not a new island to visit this time, but a tropical depression that was developing out in the Atlantic. Early predictions were that it would pass to the North, but I do not put too much credence in early predictions, preferring to assume it was coming to wherever I was, and plan accordingly. Around Marin, further up the bay from St Anne, there are a number of large mangrove-lined channels that I had always thought looked like possible hurricane holes. I began exploring these by dinghy...but quickly decided this was not the best place to be. Yes, they could be hurricane holes...but there were already a number of boats tied up in some of the best spots, and typically with only one anchor out and the docklines tied together to tie to the mangroves. Did these boats really only have one anchor and one rode? Should a hurricane actually hit here, they would most likely come loose and drag their anchors, endangering other vessels better equipped by crashing into them, fouling their anchors, et cetera.

The experts were now calling for the storm to hit Martinique, thus I figured it was time to head South, and continued on to St Lucia. There, I bought some basic provisions and quickly got underway for the Grenadines, figuring I could make Carriacou and its mangrove hurricane hole with plenty of time. I was about an hour out of the harbor when I passed a boat that had left before me heading back to Rodney Bay. We spoke on the radio, and he reported that the experts had changed the projected course, and were now calling for it to stay South of St Lucia. I quickly pulled up a weather report to confirm this, and likewise turned around and went back to Rodney Bay. There, I found a spot in the back of the bay and put out my anchors and prepared for the worst...after all, the experts are worth listening too, but never worth putting all your faith in! But this time they got it right (actually, they continued moving the track South as it approached) and Carriacou and Grenada suffered the worst of it while in Rodney Bay we got little more that what the trade winds typically bring.

A few days later, I was on my way South again, with commitments to meet the Kushnirsky family for a two week backpacker trip through the Grenadines. The high point of this trip was when Demetri (the dad) and I buried an old chest of costume jewelry on one of the Tobago Cays. He and his wife (both graphic artists by trade) had made a pirate map, which we put in a wax-sealed bottle. The next day, this was placed where their five year old son would conveniently find it. Several hours were spent following the directions on the map until, Arrgg, Matey, we discovered the buried pirate horde! You never saw a kid so excited in your life, as this picture amply demonstrates!

Following the charter, I had plans to haul my boat in Venezuela where I hoped the very dry climate would help me resolve the blisters I had found when I hauled her the year before. So, I pointed the bow SW, and made a first stop in los Testigos. These Venezuelan islands get zero tourists, only the cruisers and the local fisherman...but this is not for lack of beauty! They are truly a mini-paradise, just a short sail West of the heavily-travelled islands of the Grenadines and Grenada.

I spent a month in Margarita, enjoying the cheap cost of living, but otherwise, failing to see why some never leave the place. I left, heading to my haul-out...but my transmission went out on me, having lost all the fluid through the captain not tightening the dipstick properly. Conveniently, I knew where there was a just-rebuilt transmission of the same model in Bequia a friend was selling, so I decided the easiest course was to sail that way...except is was mid hurricane season, and the trade winds are not particularly reliable.

 I made it to Bequia, at times playing the squalls to find the only wind, and got the transmission installed, but it was too late (and too much trouble) to now return to Venezuela to haul out. Instead, I sailed down to Carriacou, my favorite boat yard, and tackled the blister problem there. As you can see from the photo, the problems were rather extensive. I now lacked the time to let the boat sit and dry out, and the October climate in Carriacou is not very conducive to anything "drying out" anyway, so I did not attempt to peel the gel coat or barrier coat the boat. Instead, I just ground out the blisters, then wiped the area with plenty of acetone before filling them back with epoxy thickened with silica. Some fiberglass cloth was used in the deeper ones. This apparently worked fine, as I have yet to have any reoccurrence (knock on wood). 

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 with his current girlfriend and current boat 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, with 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. BTW, if you look close, you can see Alice sitting at the bottom of that waterfall.

The Grenadines gave us diving with the visibility we are both use to in 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.

We hiked over to the Hope Beach on Bequia, my favorite place there. We anchored in Chatham Bay, on Union Island. But our favorite spot was Ile de Ronde, between Carriacou and Grenada. Very few boats stop here (although earlier that fall Alice and I bumped into my friend Scott on his beautiful 75 foot schooner Satori, which he and his girlfriend sail around with no other crew. Ilse de Ronde is these days uninhabitted, although it is regularly visited by fisherman from the Northern end of Grenada. Around the corner from the anchorage is a beach that maybe gets a dozen visitors a year, if that. This is probably only a summer stop as I imagine the anchorage can get a bit rolly in strong trades. 

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.

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 tropical depression that became a tropical storm (35 knots sustained winds) just as it passed over us. But then, if it was a hurricane, I would have most likely been in my semi-secret hurricane hole in Grenada (see 2004). One curmudgeon rowed over the next day and chided me for being a lubber for leaving my sails on for a "hurricane", revealing my total lack of experience! I did not bother to tell him that I have had four hurricanes (one cat II, and 3 cat III) make landfall right on top of me.  I went through the eye of Bonnie, Bertha, Fran, and Floyd on the NC coast in the late 90's. Check their tracks, and you will see that the eye of each passed over Carolina Beach, NC, where I and my boats Lobo and Unbound were located, a short walk across the dunes from the Atlantic Ocean. I did suggest he check the definition of "hurricane", though.

November found me in Venezuela where I met crew and promptly took off for the offshore islands. Stops were made in Blanquilla, the Roques, and the Aves - all beautiful with their unspoiled, desert-isle feel. Like my previous visit to Venezuela, I have no desire to visit the mainland, where theft is a major problem for cruisers and citizens alike. Too many stories of armed boardings for my comfort level.

 Continuing Westward, we stopped in Curacao, where two more crew came aboard, and headed West for Colombia as soon as provisioning and weather allowed.