In Bermuda!

My apologies for not posting anything up until this point but they are safe and sound in Bermuda.  Here is the most recent report:

Sitting St Georges Harbor, Bermuda. We resigned ourselves to a couple things two days ago. First that we would have to stop in Bermuda or be subjected to forecasted 35kt winds with squalls up to 50kts as we crossed the gulf stream. Second that we couldn't reach Bermuda by tonight so would have to wait off shore to enter.

After two days of spectacular sailing we are just 5 miles out and will be in before dark. Not sure how it worked but the seas stayed flat and the good ship Celebration ran steady across them making between 6.5 to 7.5 knots over the 48 hours. One point this morning we slowed to 4, then after sever hours it picked up again. TO insure the extra speed I experimented with flying the storm jib on it's sta in the foretriangle. Love it, extra 25 feet of leading edge with no impact on the genny, more speed and yes I took some pics for posting later...double headsails with Bermuda in the background.

Maintenance: One water-maker membrane is good, the other bad. The bad one is now plumbed out of the system; we're down to making just 20 gallons/hr. Hot showers and a cold drink tonight once we're settled.

Time: 2013/05/23 22:50:54
Latitude: 32-22.43N
Longitude: 064-40.53W
St Georges Harbor, Bermuda

Buck Island, St Ctoix

The day started with the palest of sunrises, a barely-grey morning that slowly went silver, then yellow. We sat in the cockpit sipping coffee, watching the pelicans and frigate birds shake off the night and begin their breakfast dance. The pelicans and gulls diving and fishing, the frigate birds stealing from any and all.
We were anchored just off the beach of Buck Island in St Croix. Buck Island is a park, run by the US Park Service that's just a mile or so off the coast of STX. It's uninhabited and boats need a permit to stay overnight. During the middle of the day, the place is crowded with day snorkelers and beach walkers, but at evenings and in the early morning, it's just us boaters and there were only 5 of us.

It was a pale, gentle start to the day.

View from the beach, MrMac is centered and Celebration is on the right.

 

We had sailed out to BI to meet our best buds and sometime buddyboaters, Chris and Anne on MrMac. They had just arrived from the marine shopping mecca of St Martin and were in need of distraction. The weather was perfect: the clouds were almost too white, the sky was almost too blue, there were almost too many shades of turquois in the water to count. We did our best to appreciate it all. We snorkeled and hiked and  sundownered until way past dark.

 



 

I love that last line. With all our stopping and picture taking and gazing at the views and lizard watching, it took us much longer than 1 hour. We saw no other hikers even though the beach was busy.

 

 

The top of a Turks Head cactus, tiny pink flowers and bright pink seeds.

 

 

The bromeliads and air plants were everywhere.

 

Buck Island is an interesting combination of cacti and succulents and tropical plants. It's very dry most of the year and very, very wet the rest of the time. Average rainfall is about 40 inches, most of it coming from August to November.

The reef on the north side of Buck Island, from the viewing platform 300 feet up the hill. We sat here a long time.

 

 

Updates

I'm back from my 3 week trip up north. I've actually been back for 2 weeks now, but the sun is so sunny and the water so blue, I've had a hard time staying inside to write about it. I headed back to Minneapolis (where it was 3. Three shouldn't even be a number when it comes to temperature.) to do wedding dress shopping with Hannah, who is getting married in August, and MOH dress shopping with Amanda, who is her MOH. It was a grand time, lots of family and laughter, some tears. My little girls are all grown up.

After Mpls I headed to Phoenix to thaw and see more family, and do a side trip to Mexico to stay in my sisters lovely condo on the Sea of  Cortez. I flew back to St Thomas and we immediately sailed south. We made it back to St Croix just in time for St Paddy's day. 

 

For some unknown reason, St Pat's day is a HUGE here.  Personally, I think it's because it falls right in the middle of Lent and it's a great opportunity to let loose for a day. Whatever the reasons, the partying starts early in the morning and goes late into the night, or in this case, until 4am.

 

We watched a 3 hour parade where the spectators were just as much fun to watch as the floats and bands. Everyone was in green. Green hair, green skin, green glasses, hats, shoes, socks. Water fights were had, drinks were lifted, we all had a wonderful time under the bright, hot sun.



 

 

 

Love his sideburns.

There were girls twirling flaming hula-hoops...

                                                          ...and leprechauns

                                            and a bartender on every float.

                                        Green was the color of the day. These guys had wet-paint hands
                        and were trying to put handprints on various parts of the women in the crowd.

                                               Love her smile, even her bike was green.

 

It was hot, but the bands played on

You're going to do what???

The RaftUp this month asks these questions:

How did you get the idea to go cruising? Was it you, your partner, a friend that put the idea in your head? How long was it between when you first decided to go -- buying the boat -- actually setting sail? When you first starting telling friends and family that you were going to do this, how did they respond? Has it affected relationships on land? What was the hardest part of the transition from land to sea (this can be mental or physical)? Was it easier or harder to get going than you thought it would be? How long have you been out? Do you keep a place on land (house, storage...)? Why? Is your boat now your home or do you dream of having a normal land-life again?

Endless horizons, endless options.

 

The first time I set foot on a sailboat was the day we moved aboard, 10 years ago. I know it sounds like it was a lark of sorts, but anyone who has ever met Steve knows  he doesn't have much 'lark' in his genetic makeup. There was actually a lot of thought and planning involved. At the same time, we'd already done 12 moves in 20 years and we knew very well that nothing was forever. We could choose to move on at any time.

I grew up in North Dakota (AKA: Almost Canada). It's not a region known for water sports. What water we had was generally frozen, we ice skated and played ice hockey. Sailing was as foreign and exotic as fresh pineapple and coconuts. I first saw a real sailboat in Duluth MN when I was 18. It looked so easy and romantic. 
Fast forward 20 or so years. The girls are both in college. We're in Albuquerque NM with a pending Air Force assignment to Tampa FL. We start looking at houses there.  We have MAJOR sticker shock at the housing prices there. This is 2003 when even a tiny ranch house there was selling for $500K. I joke about just buying a boat and living on it. We laugh. We look at more houses.  Just for the heck of it, we check out some boat listings online.  Boats are much more affordable. They look so spacious. The water is so pretty. I'm sold.

Steve does weeks of homework and research and sees dozens of boats with the broker. We know nothing of brands or reputation. We buy a 1977 Hallberg-Rassy 41'. It doesn't have anything we were looking for: air conditioning for living aboard in Florida, refrigeration ( it had an ice box), electronics. But she's a SOLID, blue water cruiser. So, we move aboard and then take sailing lessons. I am the Sargent Schultz of sailing, I know nothing.

We start the first of many Project lists. The first biggie: new engine mounts. The engine is literally falling into the bilge. We replace the wiring, the plumbing, add holding tanks, recaulk the teak deck, re rig, remove davits and add a stern rail, add all the electronics and in mast wiring. It was all learning on the job. Steve did ALL the work himself, he knows our boat inside and out and upside down. This was about a 6 year project. We were both still working full time. After Steve retired, he took a year to add a new engine and water maker and refrigeration compressors and 100 other things that have to be taken care of before we leave to go cruising.

We've been out cruising full time for almost 4 years now. The transition from land to sea wasn't very hard for us. We're used to having to find our way around new cities/countries every couple of years, finding the good local restaurants, the grocery stores, the shortcuts. We tend to make friends easily. We accept local customs and don't want everything to be the same way it was 'at home'. The hardest part for us as family with grown children is not having that Family Home for everyone to meet at for holidays and vacations. It's much harder to make advance plans and to accommodate the girls work schedules. The work of day to day life on the boat is also much harder than I ever expected. Going to get groceries can be an all day chore. Ditto for laundry. And sometimes the logistics of planning food for a group for a few days puts me in a panic.

We accumulated a lot of art works and interesting furniture pieces from our travels and we do have a 10 x 10 storage unit in Albuquerque. It's been 10 years since I've seen most of what we have in there. So I'd have to caution anyone to think reaaalllyyyy hard about what you want to put into storage. We've probably spent $8000 in 10 years on that storage unit.

Our boat is our home. We plan to be there for many more years, but I do have to admit that after more than 25 years of continuous moving, I'm thinking more and more about having a permanent home. I'd like to paint a wall a color that I like, and plant a new bonsai tree or two.
 

Dingy??

        We live on a boat, some folks who read this do, or have too. Ours isn’t a big boat by many cruiser’s standards but too big to take to the dock all the time and stay within our budget. So we also have a small boat, a “dingy”, to get to-from shore with stuff and us of course. You know laundry, groceries, rum, boat parts, walks and all those kind of things. And there are “dingy” docks, some owned by cities, some marinas, restaurants etc.

    Generally cruisers spend enough $$$ locally that it makes good sense to have a “dingy” dock. Generally at busy “dingy” docks, folks use long painters so everyone can maneuver in and out regardless if the “dingy” is double/triple parked. Generally if you have a big boat you either hire/pay for a slip or get a “dingy” to get to and from shore. And there is my rub.




Dingy to the left (blue/graythird row)
is our 8 1/2 footer for comparison
We DO have a Tiller extension though!

    At what size is it no longer a “dingy”? Perspective perhaps…if the mother-ship is 36 feet a big “dingy” might be a six or eight footer. But if the mother-ship is say 100 feet will a 12 footer suffice?  It doesn’t seem to.

    We’re in the USVI’s right now and even for this 24+ year US Air Force veteran who’ has witnessed a few big “dingy” contests, it’s a bit overwhelming. I mean damn, some of these really qualify as mother-ships. Every day there are a ½ dozen plus rigid and RIB boats with outboards exceeding 40 horsepower, several in the 14-18 foot, 100-140 hp range, electric start, integral navigation lights and GPS/chart plotters. Is that a “dingy”?  This more rigid platform, convenience, and additional size could be an offset for the effects of age and lost dexterity allowing people to do things they love much later in life. (Pfizer analogy SO tempting here) Mostly though it seems they are young crews, owners, and guests of very large and quite expensive yachts.  So it’s probably big and fully outfitted just because it can be.

     While there are rarely hard rules there are conventions, like the long painter I talked about. It’s just being considerate of others so most people do it. But not everyone, so sometimes there actually are rules. Annapolis for example has a rule for their “dingy” dock limiting size to (hope I remember this correctly) 14 feet. Oh that’s right, there are rules here too. Limit is 12 feet, no locking, and no overnight. Hmm.

    Options: the “dingy” dock could get bigger; “dingys” could get smaller; or maybe those non-“dingy” i.e. pseudo mother-ships could hire slips. Meanwhile our painter keeps getting longer and the off-loading more challenging as we climb over and through the “dingy” mass/mess.  Good news—Lynn has only gone in once. Not here.

Moko Jumbies

I know, I know, moko jumbies sounds like a good rum drink. They are, however, stilt dancers. Towering god/ghosts who watch over their villages and who can see evil coming from their lofty height. The origin of moko jumbies depends on whether you read Wikipedia the St Croix Visitors Info. They came from Africa, added in some Caribbean voodoo and some European religions and are now unique. However they came about, they're a blast to watch as they dance down the street or on the beach. The troop here preformed at the Jump Up last Friday night. I apologise for the dark photos, there were too many bright lights against a really dark sky. It was too much for my limited photo skills.

The top of an SUV is just the right height for strapping on the stilts.

                                            Next, getting into costume.

                                                             Dressed and ready to go.

                                                                  Chillin' with friends.

                          More waiting. Their eyes are kind of unnerving when you get close.

                                                             Taking a bow after the dance.

Street Scenes

Some different scenes from around the VI's. You never know what will be painted on the sides of buildings. It's one of the things I like here, it's not just the generic gangbanger f*** stuff.

I think this was an ad for something, I just couldn't figure out what.

An interesting trash barrel.

Chalk on a wall.

An abandoned building.

...and we know what you're thinking.

Highway signpost.



Thru fair weather or foul

     In seasickness or health,
     showers or not,
     from sunburn to dusk,
     and saltwater to fresh...

I think maybe cruising couples should take vows before they leave the dock. Go though a little pre-cruising counselling, perhaps?  How many of us really know what we're heading into when we 'go cruising'? The strains it can put on a relationship? The fear and the doubts? Can we be prepared for it? (OK, just so I don't scare our girls, this isn't one of those stories about how we fell apart because of cruising. We're still married and we still like each other!)

Funny thing: as I'm sitting here trying to write about relationships on a boat, Steve, who is taking the auto helm motor apart said "I could use a little whack with the hammer", so I picked up the hammer and gave him a little whack. So easy to be cooperative and get along on a boat.

We had no idea what we were getting into with the boat or in terms of 'us'. I had never been on a sailboat until the day we moved aboard, 10 years ago. It was a steep learning curve. When we left to go cruising 4 years ago, Steve had just retired after 24 years in the Air Force. He had traveled A LOT. Our girls were both out on their own.  So there I was, a career military wife: independent, capable, resourceful. I was used to spending my off work time however I wanted. Suddenly, (and it really was sudden: we went from living at a dock and having a car, to neither, overnight). So it really did seem sudden to me. Suddenly we were doing laundry together and shopping together and walking together and eating every meal together, going everywhere together. It was too much togetherness for me. After 6 months, I was taking the cat and leaving. We obviously weren't working well together.

It can be a really hard thing, this learning to ignore each other nicely in a small space and not get your feelings hurt. To understand when your partner needs some mental space and let them have it ( and I don't mean with a hammer). To be generous in forgiving small things. To take and to give. To remember to laugh with each other when things really suck, instead of placing blame. It's been 10 years since we set out on this particular journey and we've learned more about each other in these 10 years than in the 20 before that. We keep learning because we keep changing and we keep changing because we keep learning, about the world and about ourselves.

To see more RaftUp bloggers, click on the RaftUp icon to the right.

Catching Up

Hmmm...it seems that looking for my last post, that I don't have one! I didn't do a December RaftUp, or even a Christmas/NewYear 'Hello'.  Time to put down the Kindle.

So. Hope everyone had a great Holiday Season in whatever way makes it special for you. How's that for bland and inoffensive? We're very PC here on Celebration. We did our celebrating in Culebra, which is between Puerto Rico and St Thomas, with friends Ken and Cynthia, who came over on the ferry. It was very low key: swimming and eating, chatting and reading. We missed our families, although hearing the temps in Fargo and Minneapolis made us really glad not to be there. I am heading back to Mpls and then Phoenix in February so I'll catch up with everyone then.

So. On to the January RaftUp topic: blue jobs and pink jobs, and how that division of labor works out on the boat. If any one's not familiar with the subject, it refers to jobs traditionally done only by males or only by females. I'd like to say that we don't have blue/pink jobs here, that we both have equal knowledge of all systems and procedures, tools and replacement parts, but I'd be lying. I'll say flat out: I married a man who's a great mechanic for a reason, (the reason being that he was cute and played the guitar and I was 19;)  but it's been a huge advantage.  We couldn't afford to cruise if Steve couldn't troubleshoot and then fix the myriad of-little-things-that-lead-to bigger-things-that-could-lead-to-serious-we're-in-trouble-here-things. And the good thing is: he likes a lot of it! He likes to read tech manuals and look at schematic drawings, the cheesy translations don't throw him off at all. He can take something apart and see what's wrong. I can take something apart and see lots of parts.

We both do the cooking, we both do the laundry. I take care of the food inventory and storage and most of (what little) cleaning gets done. We work together well and try to 'help' each other when we can, but it's a boat. Most spaces are only big enough for one to work and one to stand outside and hand the tools. But we try to exchange roles when we can. Steve designed most of our systems and knows them so well, that I have to tell him to stop helping me when I'm trying something new.

For some other thoughts on the blue/pink topic check out these guys:
1 Dana www.svnorthfork.blogspot.com
2 
3 
4 Stacey http://sv-bellavita.blogspot.com
5 Steph www.sailblogs.com/member/nornabiron
6 
7 Behan www.sv-totem.blogspot.com
8 Diane http://maiaaboard.blogspot.com
9 Jessica www.mvfelicity.blogspot.com
10 Lynn www.sailcelebration.blogspot.com
11 Verena www.pacificsailors.com
12 Toast http://blog.toastfloats.com
13 
14 Ean www.morejoyeverywhere.blogspot.com

The Rally Call

Sitting North Sound, Virgin Gorda, BVI's

Trip Summary
(ignore that max speed)

     First thought maybe this should be called "To Rally or Not to Rally". This trip south we were involved in our first official rally, the Salty Dawg Rally. Over the 11 1/2 days of sailing, staying in some communication, sharing fish stories, positions, weather etc. I had a lot of thoughts on things I liked about it, and some things I didn't. Like usual I should have sat and written right away with my mind moving on far too quickly, forgetting some of what I am sure were profound thoughts for anyone considering joining in a rally. Be what it may, I'll write a few things here from the trip although somewhat less focused as time has tempered memory.

One that DIDN'T Get Away

     The start: One of the first things I liked was the support from Marine Weather Center (Chris Parker) for the rally. As a participant we could sign on to his weather web casts each afternoon as the scheduled depart date neared to look at and hear what to expect. (Chris' weather support continued via e-mail and SSB throughout the trip.) As a Norther built off the US East Coast, we were one of the first boats to declare our intent to miss the scheduled date and depart after the storm had cleared. Much discussion on how far south and how fast we would need to be to stay ahead of the really bad stuff on the net and the web casts. Not a tough decision for us as we can sail fast, but don't like it. We much prefer to go slow, stay rested, eat well, and keep stress on the boat and crew to a minimum. Several boats chose to go on schedule racing ahead of the weather in 30 kts and squalls...to avoid the really bad weather. One listen in on their offshore discussion convinced me quickly we made the right call. But surprisingly, I did feel some sort of internal peer pressure to leave verses waiting behind. Funny how those old human genetics kick in even when unexpected or unwanted.

Saba Rock, North Sound, Virgin Gorda, BVI's

        "Fast" boats verses "slow" boats. This had me confused and I think several others are still confused. We left in good wind, hit the Gulf Stream and ran east at a good clip. The wind rolled east with us rolling south for several days in some good wind....30kts for the first two, then a bit more. Next the wind went back north so we east, but not really fast. When check-ins happened that evening it seemed a large chunk of the fleet ("fast" boats) was running well ahead. Waterlines being what they are, we were not going to run away but still exceeding 5 kts I was curious. Well it turns out a chunk of the fleet simply turned on the engine when boat speed fell below 6-7 kts. Hmm so if a "slow" boat routinely starts the engine when they are sailing under 6-7 kts they become a "fast" boat. Never being a racer, this didn't bug me especially knowing we would get into port without needing fuel immediately. But there is a party at the end and it appeared we might just miss it if most of the fleet motored a rhumb line. We sailed east, then south, then east...finally had to motor south into Virgin Gorda as the wind blew gently from the south at the end. We made the party by a day, and still have fuel in the tank. Anyway, we can buy a lot of rum on our own considering the extended cost (fuel, maintenance, amortized life, etc) of each engine hour left in the tank. Again that bit of self induced pressure.



Sail Repair Underway

     On the trip we caught a couple nice Mahi, missed a couple even larger ones who got away with my best lures and 81 lb test wire leaders. We split a seam in the main which by Lynn's brother Gary's (first time sailor this trip) suggestion we were able to take partially off the mast, snake it down through the overhead hatch, and restitch the seam on the saloon table below! We had one Autohelm motor pack it in and were saved from endless hours of hand steering by the trusty Aries Windvane. And like most "windy" trips, we found some leaks we didn't know about, made a few we knew about slightly worse, and added to the work list as things work hard, wear, and of course add ideas for making improvements. We averaged over 5 kts for the trip which is pretty good for me.

     The camaraderie of the group. Unfortunately we missed the gathering in Norfolk prior to the start so didn't know many of our fellow sailors. After checking in together during the trip, often relaying for others, and near the end staying in constant touch with several who were near out of fuel, we felt almost like we knew them. Meeting here at the Bitter End Yacht Club was especially fun as we were able to put faces, names, and boats together. From that we have many new sailing friends. Flying the Salty Dawgs Burgee is a visual indication when entering a different port in the BVI's that it's one of "us" and a radio hail often ensues.

Gary and I Sampling Painkillers at Bitter End Yacht Club

      Lastly a special note regarding the Salty Dawgs Rally. I have been critical of rallies in the past as they are mostly run on schedule, weather be damned in some past cases. Folks often with less experience do a rally because of the "security" of travelling near others, but due to the schedule are subjected to worse weather than if they had sailed on their own. Salty Dawgs is different. If you want to leave early, late, from a different port, even to a different port you can still take part in the rally. This is why we gave it a try. We have always made our own weather and route decisions. We maintain our own boat and safety gear to standards we are comfortable with. We believe it is nice to know others may be near, but if things would get bad we need to save ourselves and not count on someone else. Salty Dawgs fits for us. No firm schedule, no boat inspections, no hard, fast rules. To join you need to have done a lengthy passage or more and be confident in your own vessel and skills.

Saba Rock from the Hill Behind Bitter End

     In the end it is really about the camaraderie of other sailors, the fun of completing a similar passage, and the telling of how and when each of us packed in the long-johns and foulies as we progressed south...ending the trip in shorts and bare feet. Having Lynn's brother Gary along was a special treat as we haven't had near enough opportunity in adult-hood to spend extended time together. Sharing it all over $3 Painkillers at the Saba Rock Happy Hour.

The list of leaking things can wait.