Sundowner on “Just Imagine”; Barbuda — April 3, 2014

By April 3 our Armada at Spanish Point had grown to 9 vessels:  Compass Rose, Dolce Vita, Farhaven, Just Imagine, Kewaydin, Miclo III, Never Bored, Tusen Takk II and Viking Angel, not counting several other vessels that were strangers to us.

With sore ankles from our long walk of the previous day, I was in no shape for another hike, but we did do some snorkeling on the nearby coral heads, and I initiated a small interior varnishing project, redoing the fiddles on the chart table and the table in front of the pilothouse settee.

Robin & Cheryl (Just Imagine) threw a sundowner that evening, and that made 18 (!) folks aboard their catamaran.   Here are a few of the pictures Barb took:

Long Walk; Barbuda — April 2, 2014

On April 2 some of the braver (or more foolish) members of our armada set out on a longer hike up the east coast.  Our goal:  the caves and cliffs found at the southeastern end of the “highlands” that grace the upper northeastern coast, some 6 miles (according to Barb’s fitbit) up from Spanish Point.   (See the map, below.)  Hikers were Kim & Sandy, Bill & Coleen, Jackie & Eric and the Takks.

Short Walk; Barbuda — April 1, 2014

Our small armada of vessels from Antigua landed off Spanish Point, Barbuda shortly after noon on April 1.  Already there and awaiting our delivery of fresh produce were Kim & Sandy (Kewaydin).  After some lunch, we gathered on the beach for a short walk up the eastern shore of the south part of the island.   Hikers included Kim & Sandy, Chris & Sheila (Never Bored), Robin & Cheryl (Just Imagine), Morris & Elizabeth (Viking Angel), Bill & Coleen (Dolce Vita), Eric & Jackie (Compass Rose) and the publishers of this blog.  Along the way Kim showed us the remains of the mobile construction offices that had been pushed over the cliff by a large group of Barbudans who opposed the construction of a huge hotel project at Spanish Point that had been approved by Antigua.  (The project was cancelled.)  Further up we found a giant log on the beach, the origin of which is a mystery.   Our turn-around point was a crater formed by a former sand mining operation.  The depression is deep enough to sometimes contain fresh water that is used by the donkeys, horses and fallow deer found on the island.

 

April 2014 visit to Barbuda; Intro

Each of the islands of the Lesser Antilles has its unique features, but none is so distinctive as Barbuda.  Composed of low-lying sandstone , the highest point is only 125 feet above the sea — instead of towering remains of volcanoes — this 62-square mile island is home to a scant population of only about 1600 people, almost all of whom live in or very near the dusty town of Codrington.   Descendants of slaves brought here by the Codrington family beginning in 1685, the locals live in a unique lifestyle, with the land owned communally and never sold to outsiders.  Cruisers come here to get away from the crowds of the sister island to the south, Antigua, and to experience the gin-clear waters and to walk the lovely long pink beaches and to see some of the 170 different birds that have been identified here, including the Frigates found at the north end of the island in one of the world’s largest rookeries.

We came up the 30 miles from Five Islands, Antigua on April 1, accompanied by a number of like-minded cruising friends.   We spent most of our time anchored in White Bay, just west of Spanish Point, the same bay where the iconic picture of Tusen Takk II (found in the header of this blog) was taken a few years ago.  In the next several entries of this blog we will post accounts of our various experiences.

Friends; St. Barts & Antigua — March 23 – 31, 2014

One of the enjoyable aspects of cruising is socializing with fellow cruisers.   Since we moved aboard we have made friendships that equal or surpass any we ever had “on land”, even though our encounters with our cruising friends are often intermittent.   We recently had a happy reunion with long-time friends Ann & Steve (Receta) when we both found ourselves in Colombier Bay, St. Barts.  Actually, it was no accident; we learned via email that they intended to be there and we decided that was an ideal place for us to overnight on our two-day passage from St. Martin to Antigua.  Our get-together over dinner on TT2 was too brief, but we will see them again later in Antigua.

When we got to Antigua, we checked-in at Jolly Harbour, but then moved down to Falmouth Harbour, where we found lots of friends.   Bill & Coleen (Dolce Vita), Dave & Trudy (Persephone), Ellen & Rob (Miclo III), Tom & Leslie (Farhaven), Robin & Cheryl (Just Imagine) and Jack & Jo (Bodacious) were there, the latter of which had a number over for a sundowner, and on another night bunches of us met first at the Mad Mongoose for drinks and then reconvened for dinner at Trappas.   A good-sized troop hiked up to the top of the cliff north of Falmouth, and the next day we took the scenic shore route along the south of the island up to Shirley Heights.   Both walks are just a bit challenging, but well worth the effort.

One of the less-enjoyable aspects of cruising is dealing with malfunctions of vessel components.   When we arrived in Antigua, we discovered that the starboard stabilizer was not centering correctly.   When we moved from Jolly to Falmouth, we did so with just the other stabilizer activated – the one that had days earlier captured a fish trap line and jammed.   Fortunately, that stabilizer was functioning just fine after the removal of the jamming line.

It took a while to diagnose the problem with the starboard fin, but it eventually became clear that the position sensor was not functioning correctly.   Thank goodness I had a spare.   While I had the unit apart, I decided to also replace the bushings for the yoke that moves the fin.   I knew one of the bushings was frozen in its seat, since I had attempted without success on another occasion to remove it, but they both really needed replacing – the fin was starting to squeak when working.  Bill (Dolce Vita) offered to help with the removal, and before it was over we had his wife Coleen involved too, while Barb fetched tools and did the documenting.   We removed the top plate that contained the stuck bushing and took it up to the cockpit, where we had more room and better visibility.   I held the plate on its edge, Bill used a vice grip to grasp the lip of the bushing, and Coleen pounded on the vice grip with a heavy hammer while Bill rotated the bushing.  What a team.   It took a while but eventually we succeeded in removing the recalcitrant component.   Then, a careful cleanup using a Dremel on the cavity for the bushing, removing burrs that were preventing the bushing from slipping easily in and out, and we were done.   It is great to have good cruising friends, and even better when they are so competent and giving and willing to help.

Ruminations on “luck” — March 26, 2014

We humans sometimes invoke the notion of “luck” in a strange way, it seems to me.  I have already written about our rental-car trip last Fall from Oslo to Kristiansand, Norway, during which I fell asleep while driving and slid along the guard rail which separated my lane from the oncoming traffic.  I said we were “lucky” to have not incurred any personal injury.  I could have said I was unlucky to fall asleep, but instead said we were lucky that it was not worse.

Why do we say we are “lucky” when something bad happens, but could have been worse?

The mathematician in me wonders if maybe we employ our concept of luck in a manner analogous to the application of the concept of conditional probability.  I’ll resist the temptation to launch off into an explication of that concept and simply note that in addition to the mathematical concept of probability, in which we gauge the likelihood of event A occurring , there is the concept of conditional probability, in which we gauge the likelihood of B happening given that A has already occurred.  Maybe we are likewise employing the concept of conditional luck, in which we say we were lucky that B subsequently happened (or didn’t happen) given that A had already happened.

But the philosopher in me wonders if something else may be at the heart of our tendency to say we were lucky when something bad happens that could have been worse. Maybe the invocation of luck in that circumstance is really our attempt to hide from the uncomfortable fact that the universe can be indifferent to or even hostile to our best interests.  So instead of focusing on the fact that A happened, we focus on the fact that B happened (or didn’t happen) given that A had happened.

On the evening of Monday, March 23, we departed a little after 5 pm from Virgin Gorda, BVI and cruised through the night toward St. Martin.  I took the first watch and was relieved by Barb at about 2:00 am.   At about 5 am, I was awaked by Barb calling my name and by the sound of an alarm going off from the control console of our stabilizers. The display revealed that the port stabilizer was frozen in an extreme position, a fact soon collaborated by opening a hatch and gazing down. There being no obvious remedy, we shut both stabilizers down and reapplied propulsion power, only to note that our speed was drastically reduced.  Suddenly we lurched ahead and attained normal speeds.

We were “lucky” that the seas were relatively calm, and that such waves as there were came essentially on the nose, so stabilizers were in fact unneeded.  When we arrived at Marigot Bay, St. Martin, we had some breakfast and then I donned a snorkel and mask to have a look-see.   I found a length of line jammed between the stabilizer and the hull, with a juice container/float pulled up tightly to the jam.  I tried pulling on the line and then tried rotating the stabilizer fin, with no success.  I returned to the transom and had Barb fetch a keyhole saw and a small hacksaw, with which I attempted to cut the line.  I very quickly realized that the task was formidable, and so I returned to the cockpit and donned scuba gear.   And then sawed and sawed and sawed.  The problem was that the line was jammed all across the width of the fin.  As I sawed I could see just a few dark strands floating away during each stroke.  Ninety minutes later, one scuba tank depleted, the fin finally came free, with no damage done to the hull or the fin.  Lucky, huh?

Next day we cruised down to Colombier Bay, St. Barths, and the following day cruised to Antigua.   While out in the deep water between St. Barths and Antigua, we caught a tuna.  Now that is what I call genuine luck!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Virgin Gorda, BVI — March 21-22, 2014

Anticipating a weather window for a passage to St. Martin, a number of us moved to Virgin Gorda to stage for the crossing.   Actually, it took us two days to get into position, since we lolly-gagged in Cruz Bay, St. John, USVI on the 21st, and then lolly-gagged further in West End, BVI in order for me to check into (and out of) the BVIs and for Barb to up her step-count from what she had achieved in Cruz Bay.   (I should explain:  our generous niece Cathy gifted Barb with a wrist gadget that, among other things, counts the number of steps the wearer has achieved during the day.   Barb tends to get antsy if she has not obtained the requisite default 10,000 steps ordained by the instrument.)   As a consequence of the multiple delays, we only had time to get to Caneel Bay off Little Jost Van Dyke on the 21st.   Next day, as we approached the North Sound of Virgin Gorda, we were met by a large fleet of magnificent sailboats that were arriving from the direction of Anegada — presumably they were just finishing some type of race.   We had a number of friends over that night for a sundowner on the cockpit of Tusen Takk II.  Next day, we departed for St. Martin about 5 pm.

Bouncing around the Virgins — Mar. 4-20, 2014

In the time since our last guests (Jon & Cathy) departed, we have bounced around the Virgins, spending time with a variety of friends.   We have hosted sundowners and joined others for sundowners on their boats.  We have hosted dinners and joined others for dinner on their boats.  We spent some time in Charlotte Amalie, where we saw the incredible yacht Rising Sun, built in 2004 by Larry Ellison (of Oracle), and now owned by David Geffen. 453 feet long, with 82 rooms on five levels.  We later learned Paul McCartney was on board.

We happened upon Cruz Bay’s St. Pat’s parade, and posted a bunch of pictures on Facebook.

I repaired a leak in the bottom of our dinghy, and I rewired the speaker for our Single Side Band radio.

I dug out my underwater housing and did some underwater photography in the Caves of Norman Island, where my goal was to finally get a picture of Glassy Sweepers.  I also dove Hurricane Hole in St. John, and became convinced that I need to expand from my usual macro pictures to include some wide-angle stuff.  Barb and I also did non-photo dives on Johnson Reef and Tektite Reef.  The viz was lousy at Johnson, but nice at Tektite, where we saw gazillions of fish.

As this is written we are making final plans to leave the Virgins and begin our trek southward; first stop: St. Martin.

 

Jon & Cathy Visit Us in the Virgins — Feb. 24 – Mar. 3, 2014

Chuck’s niece Cathy and her husband Jon arrived in St. Thomas late in the afternoon of Monday, Feb. 24.   We barely had time to drop off their luggage on Tusen Takk II, anchored in Elephant Bay, before jumping back into the dinghy to proceed to the ferry dock on Water Island, from which we walked over the hill to Honeymoon Bay.   Yup, we were there to watch the movie shown on a screen fashioned out of two sheets strung between two palm trees.  The movie?  Rush.  The meal?  Chicken sandwiches and/or cheeseburgers, washed down with beer and followed with popcorn.  (Except for yours truly, embarked on a month-long experiment of total avoidance of all things gluten, in the hopes of a further lessening of arthritis symptoms.   So no beer or buns for me.  I miss the beer more than the buns.)

That “quick start” set the pattern for their entire stay; we visited, in order:  Great Harbour and Diamond Cay on Jost Van Dyke, Pirates Bight, the Indians, Soper Hole, Cruz Bay, Cinnamon Bay, Francis Bay, Waterlemon Bay, Hurricane Hole, Great Lameshur Bay, Salt Pond, and Drunk Bay before returning to Charlotte Amalie after a week of fun in the sun in order to send our guests off to the frozen north of Bismarck, North Dakota.

We did a lot of snorkeling during their stay, but also played some cards and watched a movie on-board and did some boat projects, including installing new gas struts under the master bed and fashioning a new dinghy seat when the original finally gave up the ghost.  Jon felt responsible for the seat breakage, but the truth of the matter is that the seats provided by AB are notoriously vulnerable to breakage; a number of years ago we had one break from the weight of a slight pre-teen girl who was sitting in the middle when the dinghy hit a wave.   (Of course, Jon is no slight pre-teen girl 🙂 , but the breakage really wasn’t his fault.)

Jon and Cathy make lovely guests.   Easy to get along with, easy to please, and always helpful.   Watching Cathy help Barb thread our yoke through a mooring pennant eye is a joy:  Barb uses a long boat hook to grab the mooring painter.   She pulls the painter up to the high Krogen bow and hands the boat hook off to Cathy, who sets it out of the way and then immediately grabs the other yoke line, feeds it around and under the bow roller, and then hands it to Barb, who by this time has secured the first line through the eye and up snuggly to the bow so as to keep the eye within reach for the second line.   Barb feeds the second line through the eye and lets out some of the first line while Cathy adjusts the length of the second line.   Pure poetry in motion.

Meanwhile, Jon is pinning the stabilizers while I am closing down the electronics.

What a team!

Thanks for coming, Jon and Cathy.   See you next year.

Retrospective Tribute; Hunter & Devi — 2007-2014

We have made many good friends while cruising the Caribbean.   Very good friends.  Friends for life.  Of those friends, with no couple have we spent so much time and had so many different experiences as with Devi & Hunter Sharp (Arctic Tern).  Alas, they will soon take their boat back to the States, where they will sell her and move into a house on land.  On land!

One of my earliest pictures of the couple was taken at a Parang concert in Trinidad.  Devi impulsively decided to enter into a maraca contest that was held during a break in the performance, and was getting a quick lesson from the professionals.  She didn’t win the contest, but she endeared herself to all in attendance.  A few months later the Terns and others were in Trinidad’s carnival parade Jouvert (also known as “dirty mas”) with us, chipping down the streets in the middle of the night.  Devi “panced” me at one point and left smeared-paint hand marks on the buns of my undershorts.  Ann Vanderhoof (Receta) later discovered hand marks on the breast areas of her blouse.

The Terns went to Venezuela with us in 2008.  We went to Angel Falls together, and to Merida, where we all took a two-week Spanish immersion course, followed by five days of hiking in the Andes.   When the Terns and the Takks returned to Trinidad, we joined Receta and Asseance and went down the east coast of Venezuela to travel up the Macareo River in the Orinoco Delta.  Surely our enjoyment of the fauna there was enhanced by Devi’s expertise at bird identification.

We have been on enumerable hikes with the Terns on almost every eastern Caribbean island.  During extended stays in Grenada, Hunter and I explored almost daily local trails in the southwestern corner of the island, but along with others we have also done some really major hikes, including ascending Petit Piton in St. Lucia, Mt. Catherine in Grenada, Boiling Lake and Mt. Diablo in Dominica, the eastern shore of Barbuda, the ridges of St. Martin and various heights overlooking Falmouth Harbour in Antigua.

Hunter has helped me with bunches of projects, including repairing the water maker, installing flopper-stopper poles, repairing a crack in our dinghy bottom and adjusting the valves in our generator.  He has patiently and tirelessly given Barb and I swimming lessons.

Barb and Devi have traded recipes and clothes and phone calls and emails and confidences and accounts of triumphs and disappointments and worries.  Devi provided the long-johns that became the “socks” for the fenders that we use to protect the boat when the dinghy is half-raised at night.  I provided the photographs used to illustrate Devi’s series of articles on sea birds that were published in All At Sea.

We learned to play Bridge together on our month-long traverse through the Venezuelan outer islands on our way to Bonaire.  We have played countless games of Spades and Hearts and Quiddler and Mexican Train.  We have watched many a movie on the screen of Tusen Takk II.  We have had some memorable feasts, including those with our Grenadian fisherman-friends Dwight and Stevie in Hog Island, Grenada.

It has been a great run.  We are going to miss them terribly.

Here is just a small sample of the many photos that have been taken during our times together: