Speedwell of Hong Kong

A two-day sail to Antigua

Author: Shirlz

I left St Pierre on a calm and sunny morning and persevered doggedly for a few hours to sail away from the bay. We were stuck in the calm lee of the island. Eventually I succumbed and motored the short distance needed to get far enough offshore to be able to use the convenient SE breeze. All the other boats that had decided to leave that morning had passed us by then. I wasn’t too concerned as I was heading to English Harbour on the south coast of Antigua, about 150 miles away, and couldn’t possibly get there before dark so it would be a leisurely two-day sail; Sunday morning to Tuesday morning if things went as planned.

A last view of Mont Pelee

The weather was kind to us and a bright segment of moon helped us along for a part of each night. Brilliant stars and sparkling phosphorescence. I was in my element.

The channel between Guadeloupe and Antigua was quite rough and the wind had picked up somewhat. I needed to slow down to avoid arriving at the difficult-to-spot entrance to English Harbour in the dark. I did my usual trick of heaving-to about 5 miles off and waited for the dawn. It was still only 3am so I was also able to have a short nap. A well-lit cruise ship was also holding its position some miles off. As soon as it was light we were on our way again and easily negotiated the entrance to the harbour, with grateful thanks to the Navionics app on my tablet.

There is a good anchorage at Freeman’s Bay close to the entrance and it looked pretty crowded. I hastily dropped the sail while in the channel and motored in to try to find a usable space in which to anchor. The ease of dropping the sail is one of the things I love most about the junk rig. Just release the halyard and the sail crashes down in seconds. Then, haul in the sheet and that’s it. I find that the sail furls best if done this way rather than easing it cautiously down.

After settling in I rowed across to Nelson’s Dockyard to clear in and wander about the historical site. It was pretty crowded with tourists and after a quick look around I left the herd and took an interesting path to Fort Berkeley overlooking the entrance to the bay. A few goats gazed curiously at me but there were no shambling hordes of cruise-ship inmates.

Harry’s beautiful boat ‘Trogon’

Back on Speedwell I gazed about. The wind and currents in the small bay are quite fluky and the boats tend to swirl about unpredictably. Occasionally fenders need to be put out to avoid touching. I moved at one point to avoid getting too close to a small powerboat on a mooring, which was swinging rather differently to the anchored yachts.

Quite often, Speedwell is the smallest boat in the anchorage, but for a change, there was another small boat, anchored closer to the beach than I had dared to try. I soon met the owner, Harry, who had built her himself to a Folkboat design using recycled Silvabally wood, which is one of the best possible woods for boats. The work was done in a traditional wooden boatyard in Martha’s Vineyard over a number of years while Harry was learning his trade.

Towards the end of November last year he sailed her across to Bermuda where he spent some time and then down to Antigua. The boat has no engine and he found that the windvane self-steering gear that he had hoped to use didn’t work properly on his steeply raked rudder. He was able to get the boat to steer itself using a shock-cord arrangement on the tiller. All just so impressive.

RUSH – Relax Unitil Something Happens

Another eye-catching boat in the anchorage was RUSH (Relax Until Something Happens). Phil Louwrens, her skipper and an artist, has painted the hull in realistic zebra stripes. Not something you see every day.

The view from Shirley Heights

One morning as I was getting into my dinghy to head for the beach and the path up to Shirley Heights overlooking the bay, he offered to accompany me and show me the path. He has been in Antigua for quite a few years and gives guided nature tours. It was a spectacular walk, although once again I was reminded that I’m not getting any younger as I sweated and struggled to keep up with my super-fit guide. A very welcome cold ‘Red Stripe’ at the restaurant at the top of the hill and a chance to take pictures of the spectacular view. Then back via a circular route that winds along the southern coast.

The walk back

But the anchorage was getting just a wee bit too crowded for my peace of mind, so after nearly a week I moved on to Jolly Harbour. An exciting, fast downwind sail through the Goat Head Channel to the enormous anchorage outside the Jolly Harbour marina. Only snag here is that its a monstrously long row to get ashore. It had to be done at least once as I needed to clear out of Antigua before moving on to St Martin.

Me standing a little anxiously near the edge

While ashore, I bought some provisions and took a bus in to St John’s, the capital, just to have a quick look around. Once away from the Disney world of cruiseship-land it’s a vibrant, bustling town.

St Johns

The wind was good for the next leg, so on to St Martin.

February 12th, 2017  |  Posted in Caribbean, Cruising  |  2 Comments »

A month in Martinique

Author: Shirlz

The anchorage at Sainte Anne is big and well protected and very popular with cruising boats. I managed to find a place a short row from a small floating dinghy dock and was happy there. Good swimming and old friends on other boats.

Floating dinghy dock

The village is picturesque and it was a pleasant stroll from the dinghy dock along a shady road to the small supermarket in the village. I was running rather low on provisions as I had thought I would wait to stock up in Martinique rather than Carriacou where the choice is on the limited side. What a treat to buy good bread, cheese and reasonably priced drinkable wine again. It was a short bus ride to Marin where there is a big supermarket and some interesting chandleries. It rained often enough for my water-catching system to keep the tanks filled.

A walk along the coast

A footpath follows the coastline and I had a leisurely stroll along it one day. A beautiful walk although there were some patches where I was slithering about, ankle deep in mud. I didn’t get as far as the nudist beach at Salines, in fact, I was only told about it a few days later. Ah well, another time.

Anchorage at Fort de France

After a week or two I felt the need to move on to Fort de France. Not as much of a holiday destination as Sainte Anne, but more convenient access to the supermarket and interesting shopping in town. Frequent ferry boats crossing to Trois Islets on the other side of the bay are a bit of a nuisance, as they create a ferocious wake as they pass through the anchorage regularly throughout the day. Thankfully they don’t run at night. On an impulse, one day when I was passing the ferry dock I decided to take a ride across to the other side to see where they went. Most of the other passengers were typical European holidaymakers, all suitably shod, hatted and slung with cameras for their Caribbean Interlude. A notable exception was a young rastaman with his wife and small son. As the ferry was docking at the other side, he took off his shirt, hitched up his low-slung trousers and casually dived over the side from the open upper deck where we were sitting. I exchanged delighted grins with his wife and kid.

Hummingbirds

On another day I took a no 24 bus out to the Jardin de Balata, a wonderful botanical garden up in the highlands of the interior. It was a green paradise. On the verandah of the old house that one has to pass through to enter the gardens, they had hung some bird-feeders filled with sugar water for the hummingbirds. I watched for a while as the birds enjoyed their treat. An opportunistic bananaquit also got his share.

The canopy walkway

Tearing myself away from the birds I wandered through the magnificent garden. An elevated rope walk high up in the canopy was irresistible and I bravely made my way along it imagining I was an intrepid natural scientist a la Attenborough. All too soon it was time to get back to the bus stop to catch the last bus back to town.

Speedwell glimpsed down a St Pierre alleyway

A few days later it was on again to St Pierre. A necessary stop for me as it is one of the few places that I know of where I can find spares for my Primus stove. The little corner shop was still there, but the stoves were all gone. The old man behind the counter allowed me to scratch through a box filled with bits and pieces that had been left over and to my delight I found a single new burner which I was very pleased to buy as a spare for when the current one gets too carbonned up to be useful any more. I do have a box of old used burners but having a brand new one in reserve is wonderful for the peace of mind.

Mont Pelee

St Pierre’s other claim to fame, is the fact that in 1902 it was totally destroyed when the volcano, Mont Pelee, erupted and the 30,000 residents were almost instantly killed by superheated gas that blasted down from the mountaintop. The bay is filled with the sunken wrecks of the ships that were anchored there at the time.

A weather forecast showing good SE winds for a few days soon had me getting ready for the next leg of my passage and on to Antigua.

February 2nd, 2017  |  Posted in Birds, Caribbean, Cruising  |  4 Comments »

A few short hops to Martinique

Author: Shirlz

I spent longer in Grenada than originally planned. My spot in the Prickly Bay anchorage was well sheltered and an easy row to the dinghy dock. A rather longer row if I wanted to catch a bus to go shopping at the big Spiceland Mall, but still manageable. The minibuses were cheap and plentiful and the people friendly. All in all a more relaxed atmosphere than Trinidad. Clearing in and out is easy and convenient and the customs officer recognised me from previous visits. Maybe I’ve been in this neck of the woods for too long, definitely a sign that I should be moving on.

Rogers Bar on Hog Island, near Prickly

Spending a few weeks anchored in one place usually involves trying to make the boat as comfortable as possible with sun awning, washing lines, fenders and other paraphernalia moved on deck to give me more space for sleeping in the forepeak. These are the realities of living on a small boat. I like to make an early start on the day that I leave so try to get everything ready for sea the previous day. Dinghy on deck, oars below, kedge anchor and rode below, fenders stashed, water tanks filled, lee-cloths up, Navik properly set up, tiller back in place, the list goes on and on. At last all was ready and early one morning I set off, heading north. Quite prepared to make a few stops along the way.

A rainsquall freshens things up

At this time of the year the tradewind has a consistently slightly Northerly slant which means that one can expect a fair bit of sailing hard on the wind all the way to Martinique. Not ideal for junk rig.

The first mile or two were fast and exciting as we had the wind from astern heading west along the south coast of the island. After turning up to pass St Georges reality set in and I hardened sail and set the Navik to hold us as close to the wind as possible. The going was slow. I wasn’t in a hurry so in the early afternoon I decided to make an overnight stop in the pretty little anchorage called Halifax Harbour a few miles north of St Georges. One of the loveliest and best sheltered spots in Grenada. Only snag is that there is a dump nearby and a smoky bonfire smoulders away. Flies are plentiful, but they disappeared after sunset. I was the only boat there and it was a beautiful evening.

Halifax Harbour

The next morning I set off again at sunrise. It was tempting to stay a little longer in such an attractive place but the flies were a bit daunting. So on we go – next stop Tyrell Bay, Carriacou. A strong current runs between the islands which slowed us down a bit and quite a few big boats with pointy sails passed us as the day wore on. I assured myself that they must be motor-sailing which helped to boost my morale.

We arrived in Tyrell Bay early in the afternoon and easily found a good place to anchor. There seemed to be fewer boats there than the last time I’d visited while on the way south. I was happy to see little Ambia still anchored in much the same place and Hutch and I had a few good games of chess during my stay. Many other familiar boats made it almost like a home-coming. But the end of the year was approaching and I wanted to be in Martinique for New Year. So all the usual preparations and another early morning start.

Hutch’s Ambia in Tyrell Bay

In defiance of the weather forecast, the wind stayed strongly and stubbornly NE so we battled along and as we were abeam of Chatham Bay, Union Island at about 2 in the afternoon, I decided to call it a day. Chatham is another one of my favourite anchorages and there were only two other boats there. I managed to snuggle close in to the shore where there is good snorkelling close to a rocky cliff. Strong williwaws rake the anchorage so plenty of chain was let out. I arrived on a Friday and it was too good a spot to leave immediately. Making myself comfortable of course involved all the adjustments mentioned earlier, but it seemed worth the effort and I set myself up for the weekend.

Beautifully clear water and lots of colourful little fish lured me overboard and I also took the opportunity to knock off the odd barnacle that had started to make itself at home on Speedwell’s newly painted hull. The water in Prickly Bay is notoriously nutrient rich. I was pleased to see that the zinc-epoxy spray I’d used on the prop seemed to be working rather well.

I left Union Island on Christmas Day and spent all day battling wind and current to cover the roughly 10 miles to the anchorage at Mayreau. The wind had turned really strong and the anchorage was rolly. Definitely not a place to linger. But the move had positioned us well for a slightly easier next leg to Bequia and we set off optimistically the next morning. And it did go rather well. The low aspect ratio Reddish rig takes on a useful twist with two reefs in and performs surprising well in a strong wind. We made good time to Bequia despite rough seas. After reaching the westernmost tip of the island it is still nearly 3 miles due East to the anchorage. A hard slog in that wind. As we rounded West Cay a small but powerful tug towing an enormous barge on a very long line blocked our way and we had to take avoiding action, just clear of that and a ferociously strong black rain squall hit us reducing visibility to zero. I rounded up into it and waited wearily for it to pass. The sun was just setting as we found a safe place to anchor for the night.

Next day the weather was much the same and I set off planning to sail non-stop to Rodney Bay in St Lucia, a distance of about 80nm. I held close to the coast of Bequia for as long as possible before heading out across the rough channel between Bequia and St Vincent. With no more protection from all the reefs and small islands of the Grenadines the swells were enormous. I watched in fascinated horror as a charter catamaran slammed directly to windward scorning the use of its sails. I had to hang on for dear life but Speedwell performed valiantly as usual, rising up the face of the gigantic swells with comparatively little water breaking over the deck. Once we reached the shelter of St Vincent I had expected to have to use the engine but to my surprise we were able to sail almost the entire length of the island keeping quite close inshore. It was a sunny day and things were looking up.

St Vincent Coastline

We spent most of the night crossing the next channel between St Vincent and St Lucia. Pretty much a repeat of the other one. The brilliant lights of giant cruise ships occasionally lit up the dark moonless night. They move quite slowly and the lights are confusing as its difficult to pick out a red or green light to indicate in which direction they might be moving. Here my AIS was a great help and it seems to be working very well now that I have a better connection to the antenna.

By sunrise we were about halfway up the coast of St Lucia but we had been forced a long way offshore by wind and current. I thought it was time to put in a tack and cheated a bit by helping things along with the engine. It took a few hours but eventually we reached the shelter of the island and once again it became easy and pleasant following the coastline until we reached the vast anchorage at Rodney Bay at the north west end of the island. We came in quite late in the afternoon and there were literally hundreds of boats anchored or moored. People on jet-skis were speeding about and someone was suspended aloft from a parasail which was being towed at speed across the bay. A flotilla of charter cats arrived just behind me. Caution was required.

Approaching Martinique

A delicious chickpea curry and a good nights sleep set me up for the final run to St Annes on the south coast of Martinique the next morning. This would be my third attempt at reaching that particular anchorage as in previous years I had been forced to concede defeat to the strong wind and current and head for the easier anchorage at Fort de France. This time I motor-sailed as far up the coast of St Lucia as possible before striking out across the channel. It worked well and the wind helped a lot by veering a few degrees and becoming more easterly. I think the current must have been in our favour as well because we were maintaining an astonishing 4 knots hard on the wind with big seas. St Annes was easily reached and I found a very good spot to anchor close inshore and near to a small floating dinghy dock.

Sunset in St Annes

January 4th, 2017  |  Posted in Caribbean, Cruising  |  2 Comments »

Moving On

Author: Shirlz

The hurricane season was theoretically drawing to a close and I was ready to move on. I had spent an interesting time in Trinidad and Tobago, catching up with the never-ending boat maintenance chores and meeting up again with old friends. The friends being more interesting than the chores. Chaguaramas holds many memories for me as this is where I spent nearly 8 months covering Speedwell’s hull with glass and epoxy back in 2004. At the same time I converted to junk rig, with lots of help from Pete Hill. Both jobs were very successful, and as far as the rig goes, I couldn’t imagine ever reverting to ‘normal’ sails.

A last quiet evening at Monos

I made a final shopping trip to town and cleared out. Some southerly wind was forecast, and after spending a quiet night at Monos Island I left the next morning. A black rain cloud was looming on the horizon but I hoped to be able to keep ahead of it. As we rounded the corner into the Boca de Monos and past Scotland Bay, the wind was on the beam. One of Speedwell’s best points of sail and with the current in our favour we were racing along at hull speed. Then the squall really hit us. Fortunately I had only raised four panels and things were still just about under control. I watched an inflatable, heavily loaded with people, battling to make progress in the opposite direction. They seemed to be managing and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to help them if they got into trouble. Waves were crashing against Le Chapeau, the big rock at the entrance to the Boca. The grandeur of the scene entirely wiped away all the frustrations of petty bureaucracy that I had endured during the clearing out process – (papers gone astray, multiple carbon copies of multiple forms, hearing aid batteries dying) – I was on my way again.

Then the rain-squall really hit us. Once we were clear of the rocks I was able to dash below to put my hearing aids away to keep them dry. Now all seemed quiet but we were still racing along and getting very wet. At last the rain stopped but the wind held steady and we make record time, passing comfortably east of the Hibiscus oil rig.

Sailing comfortably along

It was a dark night with no moon and a fair bit of traffic. Not much chance to get a nap, I still don’t feel comfortable relying on the AIS to wake me up with its alarm. My new kitchen timer is a bit unreliable but the iPod Touch alarm vibration works quite well if I wedge it under my chin. As the night progressed I reefed right down to prevent the Navik windvane from being overpowered. We were still doing 5 to 6 knots. The sea was relatively flat and it was an easy ride. At 4:30 am we were just 5 miles off the entrance to Prickly Bay and it was still pitch dark. I decided to heave to, brew a cup of coffee, and wait for the dawn. Pointing into the wind also stopped the rain from blowing straight down the companionway.

Soon enough, the sun came up and the rain stopped. It was still blowing quite hard as I kept a respectful distance from The Porpoises, a nasty group of rocks near the entrance, and sailed in to Prickly Bay. A forest of masts all swaying horribly in the swell. I anchored hastily in the first available place and tidied up the sail. The rolling was rather awful. A Brazilian sailor who had befriended me in Ribeira, near Ubatuba came over to say hello and Richard from Mr Curly also came by. Both told me where I could find a calmer place, tucked in behind the reef. It didn’t take long for me to overcome my reluctance to move and the new spot was infinitely better. Things were looking up. I had breakfast and a short nap then rowed ashore to clear in.

December 3rd, 2016  |  Posted in Cruising  |  3 Comments »

Living Quietly at Anchor

Author: Shirlz

By the middle of September I had been in Trinidad for my allotted 3 months and had to decide whether it was time to leave and brave the remainder of the hurricane season in the more vulnerable islands further north or apply for an extension of my stay for a further 90 days after which it would be a safer time to leave. Ever cautious, I opted for the extension. It involved a visit to the immigration office in Port of Spain and an outlay of $TT500, four hundred of which, being the penalty for having a South African passport. One tries to get used to it.

Dwarfed by the Travellift

Once my extended stay was assured, I arranged to get hauled out for a quick antifouling job and a few other routine maintenance issues. I had spent a month anchored in Carenage Bay just around the corner from the Chaguaramas anchorage. The Trinidad and Tobago Sailing Association has their clubhouse there and it was a comfortable place to be. A nice floating dinghy dock, bar, shower facilities and swimming pool. What more could one want? Unfortunately it is also wide open to the prevailing wind and swell. All the club boats are on fore and aft moorings facing into the weather. Visiting boats may anchor outside the mooring field, which is what I did. All was fine until the first time the wind picked up and then the anchorage became almost untenable. I would certainly have moved on if I hadn’t already paid to stay for a month. But I grinned and bore it and on the bad days had to just stay on board as it was too rough for me to row ashore.

Crusty Prop

When the time came to move to the Travellift dock to be hauled out I found that the prop had become so fouled with barnacles that we were unable to move under power. Not able to even make progress against the tide. Sailing through the mooring field against the tide was not an option. I quickly dropped the anchor again and as the club launch happened to be passing at the time, they agreed to tow me in.

Time spent on the hard is always a bit of an ordeal and this occasion was no exception. Heat, mosquitoes, dust. After two weeks I’d had enough and decided to leave all non-essential jobs for ‘later’.

It was bliss to be floating again and as soon as I’d packed away the fenders and ropes needed for the relaunch, I sailed off to Chacachacare, a small island about 6 nm from Chaguaramas. The sail looked beautiful and it was downwind all the way. It was a weekday and I was the only boat there. While having a celebratory cup of tea in the cockpit I noticed a biggish white bird perched high on the branch of a tree close to the waters edge. I had a good look through the binoculars and saw that it was a big white hawk with mottled black wings. My birdbook identified it as an immature White Hawk. What a thrill – a completely new bird to me. The water was clear and I was able to swim again – a real treat after being anchored in the filthy water surrounding Chaguaramas.

White Hawk (GooglePics)

I spent a few days relaxing in the tranquil surroundings and then had to head back to town for supplies as I’d left before doing any shopping, so desperate was I to escape the turmoil. It was just a short stop and soon I was off again to another quiet spot on Monos Island where my friends on Saoirse Mor and Voyage were hanging out. A wonderful place to be with a small beach and lots of coconut trees. There was much foraging for limes, coconuts and grapefruit. Too early for the soursops and guavas. There must have once been a small farm on the island. Now there are just a scattering of upmarket holiday places and a few more simple dwellings with permanent inhabitants. There is an influx of people at the weekends but nothing like the chaos of Scotland Bay.

Monos Island Coconut Beach

I plan to base myself here until I’m ready to leave. Now and then a quick visit for the day to go shopping in town and then back to this lovely spot. The others have left now, heading up to Grenada for Halloween so I’m pretty much alone.

Small house on Monos

After experiencing how quickly the prop became covered with tenacious barnacles I resolved to find a better way of protecting it. Up to now I have always used the same antifouling paint that I used on the hull, but with the spinning of the prop it doesn’t last very long. No problem in water that’s clean enough to swim in as it’s easy to reach and I can get in and clean it off when necessary. But when the water looks too toxic this is not something that I enjoy doing. Before relaunching I sprayed the prop with an epoxy based zinc spray made by Petitte. It’s probably too soon to tell if it’s really as effective as I’ve been told it should be, but so far, after a month, it seems to be working. Just to be safe, as I plan to spend a few weeks at a time here in Monos, I have also tied a black plastic bag around the blades of the prop. I have been told that this should totally prevent anything from growing there. It will be interesting to see how it works. I’m not so sure about getting into the water in Chaguaramas to tie a bag on the prop, so anchoring there will have to be restricted to just one or two days at a time. Well, it’s a good idea to keep the boat moving anyway.

November 5th, 2016  |  Posted in Birds, Cruising, Trinidad and Tobago  |  1 Comment »

Surviving Chaguaramas

Author: Shirlz

It’s about 60nm from Store Bay at the Southern end of Tobago to Boca de Monos where one approaches the sheltered waters of Trinidad’s Chaguaramas Bay. The moon was full and I started out at sunset, expecting to have to motor most of the way as there was very little wind. The first hour or two were rolly and uncomfortable, as a strong current runs through the channel, then the wind picked up, the sea calmed down and for the rest of the night I enjoyed a beautiful moonlight sail arriving at the Boca just after sunrise. With the wind in my favour I hoped to be able to sail all the way to Chaguaramas. But it was spring tide and it was running against us. It took the engine plus the sails to make headway against the raging current rushing out through the Boca. The wind was blowing against the tide causing high standing waves. We struggled through the narrow, rocky channel doing about half a knot and eventually made it into calmer water. Soon I had the sail down and was motoring through the anchored boats looking for a safe place to drop the anchor. Due to the strong currents that swirl around the bay, a lot of swinging room is needed. I found a spot at last, a bit further from the shore than I had hoped for, but not impossible. There were quite a few familiar boats, some recently arrived, others still there from when I left three years ago.  I had a short nap, a strong cup of coffee and smartened myself up to report to customs and immigration.

A big ship squeezes in past the boats

I spent the next two weeks getting essential things done. A part for the engine had to be ordered from the UK, a mailing address had to be arranged and some basic provisioning taken care of. The rum and beer stocks had been getting seriously low. No more avocados and mangos lying about waiting to be picked up next to the road. Here they have to be expensively purchased. I did the rounds of the boatyards to see what it would cost to haul out and decided to postpone the exercise till later in the season and do as much work as possible while in the water.

One Unlucky Fish

One morning I groggily made my way to the galley to fix my first cup of coffee for the day and to my amazement noticed a beautiful yellow tailed fish lying inside on the cabin sole. It must have leapt clean through one of the portholes in a desperate bid to escape a predator. Poor fish. I cleaned him up and had a delicious breakfast.

A better place to anchor

Working on the boat while anchored in Chaguaramas is not easy, as the constant fast boat traffic is very disturbing. Big ships are constantly being shepherded in by tugs to tie up to the dock. The deep channel passes very close to the yacht moorings. The massive wake of the pilot boats passing close by at hull speed knocks over anything that isn’t tied down. The only option was to find a calmer place to anchor, so as soon as possible I moved around to Scotland Bay, a beautifully protected place about 5 miles away. It held sad memories for me as this is where I lost my dear cat, Sinbad, almost exactly 3 years ago.

A path through the jungle

It is a wonderful place, surrounded by tropical rain forest. Green turtles cruise gently around and occasionally there is a flurry of silvery fish breaking the surface of the water as they attempt to avoid becoming the dinner for something bigger. Well, that’s what it’s like during the week.

At weekends it becomes a favourite destination for big double-decker party boats which arrive laden with literally hundreds of revellers and state-of-the-art sound equipment with gigantic loudspeakers blasting non-stop, deafening, soul-destroying soca ‘music’. It’s jump-up time and the natural wildlife cowers. Other weekenders roar up on jet skis or fast power boats towing water skiers, or just showing off their matched triple array of 300HP outboard engines. Blissfully, most go home when it gets dark. Some boats deliver parties of campers who set up tents ashore. They soon have generators going to power their bright lights and essential music so that they can spend the night communing with nature.

My breezy new spray dodger

But when Monday comes around it’s quiet again. Often I’m the only boat there. I watch the parrots bossily squawking to each other as they fly overhead in pairs on their daily commute. A resident king fisher sits watchfully on a low branch overhanging the water. Three yellow-headed caracaras forage about to see what the picnickers have left. My favourite little turtle pops his head out for a breath of air and a look around. The mangrove swallows swoop and twitter, sometimes settling on the bow pulpit. In the early mornings I like to paddle my kayak around the bay just to see what I might see. One morning a troop of howler monkeys were swinging about in the mangroves just a few feet away. I watched transfixed. They are not very big but make the most blood-curdling noise imaginable when they start to ‘howl’. They do this two or 3 times a day and the sound reverberates awesomely around the bay.

Sewing the dodger

One of the jobs that I’m happy to have managed to do while anchored here is sewing a new spray-dodger. The old one had become very scruffy and a few years ago I had replaced the window with new clear plastic, but had been too lazy to put zips in, so it wasn’t possible to open it and let the breeze through to the cockpit, an unimportant detail in cold places, but a bit of a problem in the tropics where that cooling breeze makes a big difference. It was quite a challenge to cope with the cutting-out and sewing in the confined space available on Speedwell. Constant tropical downpours (it is the rainy season after all) made it impractical to work outside. My little sewing machine performed like a champion and I’m quite pleased with the results.

A handy pocket for cans

August 21st, 2016  |  Posted in Cruising, Trinidad and Tobago  |  No Comments »

Tobago Days

Author: Shirlz

Looking down on Pirates Bay

Yesterday I reluctantly sailed away from Charlotteville, heading for Trinidad and the boatyards of Chaguaramas. The time had come to get started on the myriad of small, and some not so small, jobs that needed to be done to keep Speedwell seaworthy. I had spent more than a month in the beautiful setting of Pirates Bay.

Hauling in the nets

Walking along the main beach in front of the village, I would often stop to watch the fishermen hauling in their nets. These were mainly filled with small fish which they then kept in floating pens and used as bait for their main catch. Each haul of small fish attracted hundreds of birds, eager for the pickings.

Hungry Birds

Pelicans, frigate birds, terns and laughing gulls. Village children would also scurry about collecting bags of the tiny fish that fell out of the nets. Free food for the taking.

Fruit, flowers and free range chickens along the road

The abundance of fruit along the paths and tracks that I walked was quite amazing. Everywhere I looked there was something lusciously edible waiting to be picked. Breadfruit, mangoes, avocadoes, star fruit, papayas, coconuts, cashews and bananas. Many mangoes fell to the ground and I was always able to collect a few that hadn’t yet been pecked by the birds or free ranging chickens, and were still in perfect condition. How could you go hungry in a place like this?

In the rain forest

One of my more memorable walks took me along the road to Hermitage, a tiny settlement perched on a steep slope on the opposite side of the bay.

Oropendula nests

Near the start of the walk I picked up a full bag of avocados which were lying next to the road. A few heavily laden branches of an avocado tree had been chopped down and just piled up as refuse. The bag was rather too heavy to carry on the long walk, so I left them in a secluded spot a bit further along. They were still there for me when I returned about 6 hours later.

There were wonderful views across the bay and down to a small jewel of a beach tucked away and only accessible by boat.

A secret beach

The narrow road winds along the coast, climbing steeply most of the way. It passes through wonderful tropical rainforest and the birdlife is magnificent. The road is paved so I could gaze about me without having to watch where I was putting my feet all the time. I spotted motmots, jacomars, cocricos, oropendulas and hummingbirds. I am very happy with my newish 10×42 binoculars which make it possible to get a really good look at the birds.  Unfortunately my camera isn’t able to capture decent pictures of these frustratingly elusive subjects.

Hermitage main street

It’s a long and thirsty walk and my water bottle was soon empty. To my delight I came upon a beautifully contrived water spout running along a bamboo gutter. I took a well-earned break in the leafy glade and refilled my bottle with the cool clear water.

Jungle water fountain

I had hoped to be able to buy a cold beer when I reached the tiny village, but the best they had to offer was a brightly orange-coloured, artificial pineapple drink. At least it was cold and I could sit at a small roadside table with the stall-keeper and his dog.

Traditional log sawing demonstration

On Monday the village celebrated a Heritage Festival, demonstrating traditional recipes and music. I don´t really enjoy crowds and didn´t stay for long, but enjoyed watching two men use a long vertical saw to slice a big log into even planks.

Hungry remoras

A family of Remoras had adopted Speedwell and were always there waiting for any edible scraps that I threw overboard. I had never encountered these fish before and was fascinated by them. They have a big flat patch on top of their head that acts as a suction cup allowing them to attach themselves to bigger fish and take advantage of any food nearby while enjoying protection from their host. My group ranged in size from about 20cm long to more than a meter, big enough to make me a little anxious about swimming amongst them in case one might decide to become attached to me. I like my daily swims around the boat, so had to pluck up the courage to get in there with them. They seemed mildly curious but never bothered me. I usually swam with a mask and snorkel so that I could keep an eye on them. Most days there would be other brightly coloured fish visiting. Now that I’m anchored at Store Bay 20nm further on at the southern tip of Tobago, three of the remoras are still with us. I’m not sure if they are new attachees or remnants of the Charlotteville group. It will be interesting to see if they stay with us all the way to Chaguaramas.

Butterflies everywhere

July 23rd, 2016  |  Posted in Birds, Cruising, Trinidad and Tobago  |  1 Comment »

Pirates Bay, Tobago

Author: Shirlz

I set off hopefully one morning heading for Tobago about 90 miles away to windward. I had tried to time my start to coincide with a favourable direction of the current that runs through the channel between Carriacou and Grenada. It didn’t work quite as expected: sometimes it performed as I’d hoped and we ran merrily along at a thrilling 6 knots, then it would decide to work against us for a while and a few hours would be spent barely making 2 knots and unable to lay the course for any point along the coast of Tobago. At last, in the evening, it changed miraculously and sent us easily on our way, with Charlotteville now a distinct possibility. Next morning we started falling off again and for the last couple of hours I motor-sailed to avoid a full day of tacking back and forth.

The beach at Pirates Bay

We arrived in the lovely bay at Charlotteville at noon, 29 hours after leaving Tyrell Bay. I was happy enough as I had originally thought we would have to make landfall at Store Bay on the southern tip of the island and then work our way back along the coast.

A view of the anchorage

There is a lovely anchorage at Pirates Bay and 5 or 6 boats were there, fairly close to the shore. I moved a little way off and dropped the anchor in 15m. The bottom falls off steeply. Oh well, my anchor windlass is pretty efficient and I have plenty of chain. I let out 50m and felt safe enough. The water is crystal clear and I could see the chain descending steeply to a blue infinity.

The concrete jetty and main beach

It is extremely important to arrive in Trinidadian waters during weekday working hours (8-4) as overtime rates apply at all other times. These times apply to the actual boat arrival time as well as the time that you clear in at the customs office. Woe betide those who dare to heave-to a few miles offshore and wait for the dawn. A massive fine could be imposed if you are spotted. All part of the anti-drug war, but a bit inconvenient for sailors on small junk rigged boats that don´t move accurately to time constraints. Fortunately, I was seen to arrive at noon and although I only managed to get to the customs and immigration people the next morning, I was not charged the overtime rate of US$40 to clear in, but the normal (more like abnormal) rate of US$10.

Steps going down the slope

Once the official stuff was done, I took the dinghy across to the beautiful little beach at Pirates Bay and spent some time paddling along the shore before climbing the steep slope through the woods and on to a track that leads to the village. There are concrete steps all the way up the steep slope which make it relatively easy, and a few benches strategically placed half way and at the top. While I was taking a breather at the half-way mark I spotted an exquisite long-tailed bird with a turquoise crown on a high branch of a mango tree. From my description, a local bird man identified it for me as a blue-crowned motmot. I was thrilled and now peer hopefully around for more whenever I go for a walk.

Giant caterpiller

Walking along the track I had a magnificent view of the bay. I also concentrated on collecting some mangos which are normally just left to lie on the track until they rot or get eaten by the wild creatures or ants. It was lucky that I had been looking at the ground for pickings, as I managed to avoid tramping on a brilliantly coloured caterpillar at least 6 inches long. He posed for a close-up. I would love to see the butterfly or moth that eventually emerges. Goats were grazing on the steep slope and breadfruit trees were heavily laden with almost ripe fruit.

Breadfruit tree near the village

I wandered on along the main beach that runs in front of the village. There is a long concrete jetty for the fishing boats and visiting dinghies. When school is over for the day, the kids have a great time jumping off the dock and swimming near the shore.

Laughing gulls waiting for scraps

Hoards of laughing gulls wait patiently on the beach for scraps of fish from where the fishermen are cleaning their catch. They are very bold and just shuffle a little out of the way to let me pass.

June 28th, 2016  |  Posted in Cruising, Trinidad and Tobago  |  4 Comments »

Walking Carriacou

Author: Shirlz

Tyrell Bay

Tyrell Bay, Carriacou,  is probably my favourite Caribbean anchorage. Big enough not to feel too crowded even if there are a lot of other boats. Of course, there will always be some who feel compelled to anchor uncomfortably close, but these are usually the big charter cats, who only stay for one night before moving on, anxious to stick to their tight schedule. Not much happens ashore. There are a few nice beach bars, eateries and small grocery shops and an ATM that sometimes works. A steady breeze keeps the bugs away and ensures that I get plenty of exercise on the longish row to the beach.

A typical sandy track

My walking friends, Joan and Grahame arrived soon after me and we spent many happy days exploring the island. The walks usually took us along sandy tracks winding along up and over the hills, giving magnificent views of the coastline with reefs and small islands.

This one is a sheep

Every household has a few goats or sheep and chickens which wander freely around nibbling at the sparse greenery. The sheep are hard to distinguish from the goats as they don’t have woolly coats but a lighter tropical covering. I was told that the sheep have a long droopy tail, while the goats can be identified by their short, perky, upright tails. They all looked on the skinny side. I loved watching the playful young kids and lambs gambolling about and dashing straight to their mothers when they became aware of us approaching.

Ruined plantation house

One walk took us to the ruins of an 18th century sugar plantation at Belair. A stone sugar mill and ruined windmill where we unwittingly scared off a resident toucan. Wandering around the ruins of the big house evoked vivid imaginings of what it must have been like for the women living there coping with their elaborate corseted costumes in the sticky heat. Of course, there would have been an army of slaves to ease the way.

Curious brown cows

A herd of brown cows watched us as we walked past them to get a look at an historical stone well that had been built by a freed slave, then on down to Jew Bay where a cemetery is slowly being washed away by the encroaching sea.

Graves being washed away

A big green iguana on one of the tombstones, eyed me cautiously. It had been a long walk and we eagerly approached a welcoming bar close to the bus stop where we hoped to get some cold ones before the planned minibus back to the anchorage. Imagine my disappointment when we were told that they had no beer. A cold coke just didn’t hit the spot.

Green iguana

Another day we took two busses to Watering Bay on the Windward side of the island. We paid a visit to the boatyard where a traditional wooden boat was being built. Massive wooden ribs and planking.

Traditional boat construction

Then a few miles walking along the track and a scramble down to Anse le Roche where the turtles come to lay their eggs. A perfect spot for a cooling swim.

Anse le Roche, where turtles come to lay their eggs

Joan and Grahame decided to move on down to Grenada and we had a last walk along the very windswept southern coast, passing the old lime kiln at Dumfries. There were spectacular view of the small islands and reefs along the shore.

Windswept windward coast

I also plan to move further south for the hurricane season, but am still waiting for my credit card to arrive from South Africa. It’s looking hopeful as I now have a tracking number and it has reached Antigua with an expected delivery date in a few days’ time.

June 10th, 2016  |  Posted in Caribbean, Cruising  |  1 Comment »