Speedwell of Hong Kong

On to Colombia

Wednesday, May 10th, 2017

I had read so many dire warnings about the rough sea conditions along the NE coast of Colombia that I was feeling rather anxious about starting out. I had a reasonable weather forecast but in order to reach my first safe harbour at Cabo de la Vela, 500 miles away, in good weather, I would have to be able to maintain at least 100 nm per day. Seeing as I usually estimate my trip times using an average speed of 3knots I would have to push it. When I left Ponce the wind was about 15-20 knots from the East. We raced along with the wind on the beam, despite a rough and bouncy sea. The ocean swell rolls in from the NE and crosses the wind waves coming from the east causing nasty confused water. I took a seasick pill just to be safe. The first day went well and we managed to maintain an average speed of 5knots. It was looking good. But the strong conditions were starting to take a toll on the rig. Over the next 3 days I had to heave-to four times in order to fix small breakages: two batten attachment lashings chafed through on separate occasions, a stitched tab for the attachment on yet another batten pulled apart, a small saddle screwed to the boom for the tack line came adrift. Each time I needed to clip on and only use one hand to replace lashings, stitching or screws while trying to ignore the rather exciting movement of the boat and hang on for dear life with the other. Once again I was thankful for the ease with which it is possible to heave-to with Speedwell.

The Navik back in action

A rather more serious breakage happened just before sunset on day 3. I was below taking a short rest and the movement was quite rough but steady. Suddenly I felt a change and things seemed ominously quiet. Then we suddenly gybed. I dashed up on deck to see what had happened and to my dismay saw that the long connecting rod on the Navik self-steering gear had come adrift. Oh well, it had happened before and fortunately I had a spare. So we hove-to once again and I perched on the stern rail and unscrewed the Navik to bring it inside. Fortunately I was able to remember where I had stowed the spare and we were soon back in action again. I thanked my lucky stars that all these mishaps had occurred during daylight hours.

Dawn approaching Cabo de la Vela

Day 4 and we were approaching the other side. It might be possible to stop at Aruba if the weather turned nasty but I really didn’t want to have to to this, as they feel that South Africans should have a visa (which I don’t have) and their harbour fees are exorbitant. I steered towards the small Archipelago of Monjes which is part of Venezuela and could provide refuge in extremis. But things didn’t look too bad so I bravely kept going, heading along the coast of the Guajira peninsula. There was a fairly big swell but nothing too horrendous. As the sun came up we rounded Cabo de la Vela and anchored in the flat water of Ensenada Huaritcheru. Fishermen were out in their open boats. It was a beautiful scene.

I tidied up the sail and had a few hours sleep.

Kite boarders out in the strong afternoon wind

It was too windy to even think about rowing ashore so I spent the rest of the day sorting things out aboard. Kite boarders were enjoying the breeze and the flat water. Some whizzed by really close to have a look at us. We were the only cruising boat there. What a change from the Caribbean.

A perfect beach for Bokkom

Next morning it was flat calm. I got the dinghy in the water and took the opportunity to row ashore. A perfect beach for landing with no waves breaking. I took a long walk along the water’s edge. I hadn’t expected to arrive in a desert area. I imagined Colombia to be all tropical rain forest and lush greenery. This was amazing. Wonderful dry air for a change. There are a lot of simple shelters all along the beach, mostly open sided with palm thatched roofs and posts for slinging hammocks. All catering for visitors and weekenders coming to enjoy the superb kite-boarding conditions. A narrow sandy track follows the coastline.

A deserted desert beach

Every now and then I stopped to watch the local Wayuu Indian fishermen and their families busily cleaning the morning’s catch. Any bits and pieces left on the sand were quickly taken care of by the Crested Caracaras that looked on expectantly. Everyone seemed friendly and identified me with the little yellow boat anchored in the bay. One of them wanted to swap hats with me. He had a rather splendid panama job but I’m attached to my special hat and couldn’t bring myself to give it up. No offence. Thumbs up sign. On I wander.

An oystercatcher gives me the eye

Further along I spotted a beautiful American Oystercatcher being followed by a little sanderling and a pair of turnstones. Next there was a gaggle(?) of cormorants who took to the water when I came too close. Pelicans were fishing a short way off and there were terns and frigatebirds. Oh, why hadn’t I brought my binoculars?

Caracaras cleaning up after the fishermen

I was tempted to keep walking and visit the lighthouse up on the hill, but the wind was picking up again and whitecaps were starting to appear on the water. Time to head back. It would be a fast downwind row and heaven help me if I got blown past the boat. Apparently, this is the normal daily pattern – the wind picks up really strongly starting at about 11am reaching a peak around 2-3 in the afternoon and then dying down again at night. Nevertheless, the bay provided a very comfortable anchorage completely protected from the swell.

Huaraticheru Bay with cormorants

Posted in Birds, Colombia, Cruising, Junk Rig | No Comments »

Annapolis to Chisman Creek

Wednesday, October 28th, 2015

Wednesday, 28 October 2015

While still in Annapolis, I spent an interesting day at the enormous US Boat Show, marvelling at the luxury yachts on display. Catamarans with airy living space and all imaginable creature comforts. State of the art sails and electronics. Hundreds of ways to ensure that your every movement can be tracked and you will never get lost. Motorised everything. All was gloss and shine.

I envied some of the smaller boats on display with lifting keels and rudders enabling them to sneak up those shallow little creeks that I am forced to avoid. But there was not one that I would have preferred to my tough and reliable Speedwell. Enough has been said about the beauty of simplicity and I shall not expound further.

Sailing on the Bay

Inevitably, when I am asked about my junk rig and try to explain its advantages, the first response is ‘Ah!  But it doesn’t go well to windward’. True enough, and yet… Recently I have been heading south as the cold weather is starting to make itself felt. Other boats are also heading my way. This is a beautiful time of year for sailing on the bay. Plenty of sunny days, no more biting flies and enough favourable wind to get from one anchorage to the next in daylight.

Looking Aft – The Navik does a superb job steering the boat

I normally leave my anchorage at first light having got everything ready the night before: dinghy on deck, wind vane paddle installed, washing up done. Usually we are the first to leave. Others soon follow. Being single-handed and uninsured, I use the engine until I am safely away from the other anchored boats and then the noisy thing can be switched off and we start sailing.

Neal on Full Moon leaving Deltaville at first light

If the wind is against us, the other boats will soon overtake, but it is obvious that in most cases they are motor-sailing. On a downwind day, I have the advantage, as this is what junk rig is best at. No need to pole out the jib – the big main works almost as a square-sail and we romp along. The other boats are motoring. Some with no sail up at all. Downwind. It makes one wonder. Are the sails only actually used for those Wednesday evening races? Does everyone have some critical piece of rigging that is about to break? I shall rant no more, but what a pleasure it is when you do see another boat actually using its magnificent sails.

Harness Creek

After leaving Annapolis I made a short trip around to Harness Creek on the South River.  One of the prettiest anchorages I have been in. It has a convenient dinghy dock giving access to Quiet Waters Park where a hiking trail leads to the shops in Eastport. I stayed longer than planned as I really enjoyed the walk through the woods.

A walk in the woods

The trees were just starting to change colour and each time the breeze moved the branches, leaves would drift down, almost like snowflakes. The wide path was littered with crimson star-shaped leaves and squirrels scampered about gathering acorns.

Common Loon – Jackson Creek

Then, after an overnight stop in the shelter of the cliff at Herring Bay, it was a fast sail to Mill Creek on the Great Wicomico River. I was tempted to stay and chill out but the wind was too good to miss and the next day took me on to Jackson Creek at Deltaville. Again, I stayed longer than planned, this time spending a day installing a new starter battery for the engine. The old one was showing signs of severe fatigue, being one that I had bought 5 years ago in Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil.

Sandspit at low tide – Jackson Creek

Another fast run with the new sail performing superbly, got me to Chisman Creek in Mobjack Bay where I decided to take a break and wait out some strong southerly winds before heading on to Norfolk and the start of the ICW.

Posted in Chesapeake Bay, Cruising, Junk Rig, United States | 2 Comments »

A New Sail for Speedwell

Sunday, August 30th, 2015

30 August, 2015

My main reason for aborting the trip to Nova Scotia and a later crossing to Ireland was the fact that my South African passport was coming up for renewal. I had been warned that this could take 4-6 months and would have made the timing very awkward. Hence the decision to return to the US from Bermuda and get things sorted out in Washington DC while I explored Chesapeake Bay. Also lurking at the back of my mind was the growing awareness that the boat was seriously in need of maintenance and adventurous sailing might not have been the wisest thing.

The rigging and sail had taken some heavy wear on the long downwind run from the Eastern Caribbean to Guatemala and I was running out of usable rope to replace chafed-through parrels and sheetlets. The main halyard had a worrisome threadbare patch near the middle. I had served it in an effort to prevent catastrophic failure, but it did not inspire confidence.  The small blocks that I use for the sheet attachments to the sail were also wearing out. Most had been acquired in an already geriatric state and were now overdue for retirement. The sail itself was still repairable but looking rather seedy. Add to all this the dodgy state of the engine, and I felt that the disappointment of not being able to explore the fabled cruising grounds of Nova Scotia, followed by an Atlantic crossing,  was justified.

In 2006 I had spent a few months at Old Road Bay near the start of the Patapsco River which goes up to Baltimore. Unfortunately, Brian, who runs Old Bay Marina where I had hauled-out then, had changed his policy regarding foreign cruising boats, but there are many other small boatyards in the area and within a few days I was safely installed at Young´s Boatyard a short way up Jones Creek. The mast was efficiently lifted and laid on trestles ashore for painting and re-rigging. Living aboard while hauled out at the yard is not encouraged, but Dudley Boycott, an old friend from my previous visit, lives nearby and generously offered me a place to stay.

Lifted out at Young’s Boatyard

Dudley is 92 years old and still cycles 10 miles nearly every morning. He is also a semi-retired sail-maker with a full scale sail loft in the basement of his house. He agreed to let me use it to re-stitch and repair my sail and soon my poor raggedy old sail was laid out for inspection. It would be a daunting task to get it back in shape and my thoughts ran to somehow finding the cash to make a new one. The opportunity just seemed too good to miss. Everything so easily available and lots of help from friends.  And so the decision was made. Scrapping the old sail made me feel quite heart-sore as we had been through so much together. It took some persuasive talk from Dudley to get me to eventually roll it up and leave it in the boatyard dumpster after removing some of the more respectable looking pieces. Carrying it as a spare was simply not an option with the limited storage space on Speedwell.

Dudley on the committee boat

The new yellow Sunbrella was duly ordered and delivered with many thanks to Robin for arranging a good price for me. Robin also does canvas work and had some left-over yellow from a job she had done. She generously donated it to the project along with a reel of yellow polyester thread.

I decided to stay with the same sail design (as per Vincent Reddish) and not try anything new and experimental after my rather unsuccessful attempt at ‘cambered panels’. I like the solid simplicity of the flat junk sail. It might not win any races but, so far, has not let me down.  Previously, because of limited space for laying things out, I had measured and cut each panel separately before sewing them together. This time, with plenty of clean, uncluttered floor space and Dudley’s years of experience, I was shown how to lay out the full shape of the sail using tapes pinned to the floor. Everything can be carefully measured and checked. The position of each batten was marked off with tape as well, to give me an overall view of the outcome. The cloth was then laid out in parallel horizontal strips and marked off for seams and cutting lines. It is a much more economical way of cutting and I found I had ordered about 6 yards more than I needed, based on previous experience. It won’t be wasted as there are always more little projects waiting to be tackled.

Measured and marked out on the floor

My days were quite busy, as I had decided to split my time by working on the boat in the morning while it was still relatively cool and then spending the afternoon in the air-conditioned basement doing the sail. Edgemere is a very pretty suburb with an abundance of shady deciduous trees. All green now but turning to brilliant colours in autumn. Cosy clapboard houses with mostly unfenced gardens running down to the street. I enjoyed my early morning walk to the boatyard and usually saw many squirrels, rabbits and birds: Baltimore Orioles, Red-winged Blackbirds, Northern Cardinals, Mourning Doves and Canada Geese flying overhead. Dudley came to fetch me each day at 12 and gave me lunch before I started the afternoon shift.

Wednesday twilight race

It has not been all work, of course. Every Wednesday evening the various sailing clubs get together for a twilight race in the bay and I have been allowed on the committee boat, a comfortable trawler called ‘Myth’, which belonged to Dudley and his late wife Rose for many years. It is now owned by a syndicate of 5 and oversees the weekly race meet.  It was a much appreciated chance to get back on the water and watch how the ‘pointy’ boats do it.

One problem with being in Edgemere is that there is absolutely no public transport and everything is just too far away to reach on foot. A bicycle would work well, but I’ve never owned or ridden a bike and feel nervous in traffic so I’ve had to rely on getting lifts from people. Will, a part-owner of ‘Myth’ has been very helpful taking me to Annapolis to buy a reel of rope for the new rigging and Joyce and Lisa also drove me to town for a few things that I’d forgotten. Apparently, in the good old days, there was a tram which went all the way from here to Baltimore. It would have made things much more convenient.

Crab feast with Dudley, Joyce and Lisa

I met Joyce and Lisa when I was here before and they are still living on their boat in Old Bay Marina and are very enthusiastic crab catchers. One evening they brought a huge pot full of enormous steamed crabs round to Dudley’s for dinner. We had a feast, making a glorious mess smashing the shells with sturdy wooden mallets and picking out the delicious edible bits. Will has a house surrounded by sycamore trees, overlooking the water of the bay and provided dinner each Thursday.  Always a treat.

Newly varnished name plates

At last, after 3 weeks on the hard, Speedwell was ready to go back in the water. The mast had been repainted, the wiring to the masthead light repaired, the VHF antenna repaired, new halyard, lazy jacks and sheets installed, the bottom cleaned and repainted with antifouling, the Garmin transducer properly mounted on the transom, name plates re-varnished, the blocked raw-water intake cleaned out, etc, etc.

A beautiful new sail

And of course, the new sail was finished. There is not much water at the mast-lifting dock but Speedwell can just get in at high water. Phil did a great job of re-fitting it in the tabernacle and then we bundled the sail on board and moved the boat out while it was still floating. I anchored out in the little bay and spent two days putting things together. I was lucky to have calm weather and it was an enjoyable task. Rather time-consuming, measuring off and tidying up all the little bits and pieces of rope that a junk rig needs, but it was relaxing being back on board and just fiddling away.  When I was able to raise the full sail at last I was delighted with the result. So grateful to all the friends who helped make it possible.

Posted in Chesapeake Bay, Cruising, Junk Rig, United States | 9 Comments »

Routine on the Rio

Saturday, August 16th, 2014

Life on the Rio has settled into a comfortable routine.

I have managed to avoid more unwanted wildlife getting aboard by making sure that the boat is properly closed up at night. All hatches and portholes tightly sealed. This is made bearable by having a wonderfully efficient electric fan keeping me reasonably cool and comfortable. The only problem is that there are frequent thunder and lightning storms at night and this usually causes a power failure. But, ´not to worry’, after having been woken up by the sweat starting to puddle in every crevice, I stumble in the pitch dark to switch on a light and plug in my trusty little 12V computer fan which can be suspended over my bunk to give maximum air movement. And back to sleep (if the thunder is not too directly overhead).

On the river at dawn

My normal day starts with an hour kayaking on the river at dawn. The water is flat calm and no other boats are about to terrorize me wih their unheeding wakes. There are interesting half-hidden creeks to be explored where you might imagine you are really in the jungle a million miles from marinas and luxury yachts. Birds with complicated songs are all about but not so easy to spot. Neither are the howler monkeys which make such a terrifying noise. But the trees, creepers, orchids, great hanging pods and lianas are everywhere in every shade of green.

A watery world

Great buttressed tree trunks rise out of the shallow greenish water with sprays of purple orchids, tiny ferns, mosses and bromeliads clinging opportunistically to every possible attachment point. A psychedelic land where plants rule.

The kayak is perfect for exploring these narrow creeks. My dinghy would also be possible but rowing means having to be craning my neck around every now and then to see where I’m going. In any case, I have taken it out of the water and put it upside down on deck as it was regularly filling up with rain water overnight to the point of being almost submerged. Having been used to carefully conserving every drop of rainwater in the dry Caribbean, I hated having to bale out gallons of beautiful clear water every morning. It seemed such a waste.

Avian filigree

It’s an inflatable kayak and can easily be stowed in the forepeak when not in use. It was given to me by a generous Australian who was having a wild spring-cleaning session in Chaguaramus. Used to belong to a long-past girlfriend and hadn’t been used for years. Dumpster diving turned up a really good pump which was only missing the hose attachment and I acquired a nice two-bladed paddle from a Rastaman while in Jamaica and eventually got to trying out the kayak a few weeks ago.

Bamboo shower shack

When the sun starts to get high enough to start heating things up and the normal daily boat traffic starts to stir, I paddle back to Speedwell stopping to check on the egrets and cormorants who roost in some small islands near to the marina. Back at the boat, I haul the kayak out of the water and partially deflate it so that it doesn’t explode when the sun really gets cooking. Then a quick shower in the little bamboo shack at the end of my dock. And my day has started.

Sail work in the gym

After breakfast of papaya, toast and coffee – the toast made with sinfully unhealthy everlasting sliced bread which never goes mouldy – I take my daily walk over the bridge to buy fresh food or just amble along enjoying the crazy variety of small shops and pavement stalls. Tortillas, chicken, fish being cooked in the small space between the buildings and the enormous rumbling wheels of the trucks moving through. Cattle gaze uncomprehendingly down from their moving tumbrils. I concentrate on the beautiful display of tomatoes, onions, avocados, watermelons, pineapples, mangoes, strawberries, enormous shocking pink radishes and green peppers. The variety is amazing.

Batten work in the boat shed

Back over the bridge and spend the rest of the day pottering about. There is no shortage of jobs to do on the boat, the only problem is deciding what to do first. I was fortunate to be able to use the big gym room above the marina office to lay out and repair the sail which had suffered a bit on the voyage from St Martin. I needed to sew some patches where the battens had chafed holes in it. The worst holes were right in the centre of the sail which made it quite tricky to get it through the machine.

Walking to the waterfall. For once I was not alone..

The battens were also looking rather ratty. The aluminium tubing had started to corrode quite alarmingly and was forcing the carbon fibre wrapping away and splitting it. I searched about on the internet for a possible source of new aluminium poles but nothing suitable was available locally so instead, I stripped the carbon off the affected areas, cleaned off all the white powdery stuff, treated the aluminium with phosphoric acid and sealed it with straight epoxy, then faired it where necessary before wrapping with a few layers of glass cloth. These days with the weak South African Rand my budget doesn’t run to carbon fibre. It looks pretty good and should get me to Chesapeake Bay where I will be able to replace the battens more easily.

The hot waterfall

A few weeks ago I joined some friends for a visit to a hot waterfall about an hour by bus further up the coast of Lago Izabal. Really hot water falling into a cool pool below. After splashing about for a while we continued on to explore a beautiful canyon, being paddled up in a big canoe.

The Canyon - El Boqueron

Most of the other boats have been left empty while their owners return home for the summer. Because of the hot and sultry weather with almost daily tropical rain showers, the marinas offer a maintenance service for the boats, cleaning and airing them so that when the owners return they’re not faced with a waterlogged, mouldy, insect-infested floating home.

A cormorant takes off ahead of us in the canyon

Posted in Cruising, Guatemala, Junk Rig, Western Caribbean | 1 Comment »

Hauled out in Chaguaramas

Saturday, January 26th, 2013

Saturday, 26 January 2013

I passed a tall ship in a floating dry dock as I entered Chaguaramas

After getting a good night’s sleep in Scotland Bay I motored round to Chaguaramas and picked up one of the convenient TTYA moorings, then a quick row to the Crewsinn dinghy dock to clear in and pick up supplies. There was more protective razor wire in evidence than I remembered from 2004 but otherwise nothing much had changed. I took a walk over to Budget Marine and feasted my eyes on all the expensive yottie gear. My galley hand pump for drinking water had been leaking badly despite umpteen attempts to repair it so I decided to treat myself to a new footpump. 10% off for cash and a great wad of notes changed hands. Soon it was installed along with a filter and I am delighted to have easily accessible water again without flooding the galley each time I fill the kettle.

Hauled out and getting cleaned up

Next, I strolled down the road checking prices at the various boatyards.  I had thought of trying to do all the work that could be done while still afloat at peaceful (except for the weekends) Scotland Bay but realized that it would be a major disadvantage not being able to use power tools, vacuum cleaner, etc. So I’ll just have to bite the bullet and get things done as quickly as possible in an expensive boatyard.

I spent a day shopping around for the best deal but there was not much difference between the various yards. I decided on Coral Cove as it was slightly cheaper than the rest and fairly quiet but still convenient to the shops. No problems getting lifted out and now it’s just a case of getting stuck in to the awful reality of hand sanding the bottom to remove some of the thick build-up of antifouling paint. It’s a bit slow but using wet sandpaper with the water hose running to wash away the residue seems more pleasant to me than using an electric sander which would entail goggles, breathing mask and full protective gear. Very sweaty.

Thursday, 14 February 2013

Sinbad takes it easy

Life in the boatyard labours on. Speedwell is looking bright and shiny again with a new coat of paint both top and bottom. I took the rudder off (with a little help from my friends) and had new Delrin bushes and washers made to take up the slack between gudgeons and pintles. I feel more confident with a rudder that doesn’t wobble.

Some help was also needed to lower the mast in its tabernacle but there were no mishaps once I’d figured out how to rig up the two control lines back to the cockpit winches, one to coax it into starting to move and the other to prevent it from crashing down once it started leaning over. There was quite a lot of chafe at the corners where the parrels strain against the mast but none had penetrated the fiberglass cladding so no real problems. Being able to lower the mast this way makes it really easy to do proper maintenance and I am eternally grateful to Pete Hill for doing such a wonderful job of constructing it for me.

Saturday, 16 February 2013

Fresh coat of paint, mast down, battens waiting

My battens had been looking a bit scruffy for a long time and now seemed a good opportunity to tidy them up. They are made of 38 x 1.5 mm aluminium tubing with a few wraps of unidirectional carbon fibre. At one time I had cut them and experimented with jointed battens but this was not successful and I had subsequently made them whole again with generously wrapped carbon ‘bandages’. The repaired joints were probably the strongest parts of the battens and over the years saw me safely through many bad weather experiences. But now I noticed that a few of the battens showed signs of corrosion which was forcing the carbon away from the aluminium tubing. It didn’t look too good. I was tempted to buy some new tubing and replace the lot but a closer look convinced me that they were worth saving. I removed the carbon cladding at the corroded sites and brushed away all the white powdery stuff before treating the damaged tubing with phosphoric acid. Then I coated it with an epoxy filling mixture to take up all the irregularities. A layer of 6oz glass cloth to provide a good base for a fresh layer of carbon fibre. The carbon went on today and is looking good despite a nasty little
rainshower just as I was finishing off.
I’m still hoping to be back in the water by the end of the month.

Tags: Battens, Mast tabernacle
Posted in Cruising, Junk Rig, Trinidad and Tobago | No Comments »

Night Run to Trinidad

Friday, January 25th, 2013

Saturday,  12 January 2013

I sailed away from Man of War Bay early in the morning with a twinge of regret to be leaving such a beautiful place. After a wobbly start with the wind swinging about from all directions down the steep hillsides of the bay, it was fast and exhilarating sailing along the north coast of the island. A strong current helping to speed things up. At one point I was surrounded by big playful dolphins, silvery flights of flying fish and a swirling and swooping group of hungry frigate birds. The sun was shining. It was a beautiful day. Not much of a test for the windward ability of my recently modified sail as the wind was behind me all the way. Everything was working as it should.

Store Bay waterfront

I stopped for the night at Store Bay to do a bit of socializing and shopping and set off on the 60nm crossing to Trinidad at 5pm planning to arrive at about 8 the next morning. There must have been some stormy weather further offshore as the sea was uncomfortably rough and lumpy without much wind. Just the merest sliver of a moon meant that most pf the night was blackly dark. A starry sky and brilliant phosphorescence in the water made it quite spectacular. Only one minor mishap when a big, irregular swell caused an unplanned gybe in the light wind and the sheet twisted and tangled around every possible obstruction. One of the sheetlets managed to get hooked up on a lazy jack cleat creating a very odd-shaped sail. I was forced to lower the sail and heave-to to sort out the shambles. Junk rig does have the occasional disadvantages.  Still, nothing was broken and we were soon on our way again.

Fast inter-island ferry crosses my path in the early morning

There was quite a lot of big ship traffic and two fast ferries on the crossing between Port of Spain and Scarborough.  Absolutely no chance of grabbing even 10 minutes of sleep. When the sun came up at about 6 I was struggling to stay awake. But soon enough we were at the narrow opening between craggy cliffs called Boca de Monos, one of the Dragons’ Mouths that has to be negotiated to reach Chaguaramas.

Approaching Boca de Monos

As luck would have it the tide was against us and any inclination to doze off disappeared as I was forced to fire up the engine to help us get through the rough water. We crept along at 1 knot with waves crashing against the cliffs on either side. The water is deep here – mostly over 40m – so it was just a case of staying in the middle and patiently plugging away. At last things calmed down a bit as we reached more open water and soon the entrance to Scotland Bay opened up to port. By now it was 10am and I decided to stop here for a while to get some sleep before facing the challenge of finding a place to anchor in Chaguaramas and reporting to the officials.

Peaceful Scotland Bay

I was last in Scotland Bay in 2004. Only 3 other boats were anchored there and it was even more beautiful than I remembered. I cracked a celebratory Carib and turned in to catch up on the sleep deficit.

Posted in Cruising, Junk Rig, Trinidad and Tobago | 2 Comments »

On to Tobago

Sunday, December 30th, 2012

Sunday, 16 December 2012

Last day at Baganara

I left Baganara with the falling tide. In the three months that I had spent there I had sweated, met some very interesting and unusual people, re-made my sail, taken my chances swimming to cool off in murky water where piranhas and worse lurked and generally speaking had rather a wonderful time. But the visa was due to expire and friends were gathering in Tobago so it seemed to be time to move on.

The new dinghy

A last G&T at the resort bar with Bernhard and Sharmilla who had motored down in their newly completed dinghy which they had painted in the bright colours of the Guyanese flag. A chance to say goodbye to Kurt and Trevor.

Monday, 17 December 2012

Sunday night was spent anchored off Bartika so that I could make an early start with the clearing out procedure and do some last minute shopping. Rowing ashore in the morning presented a bit of a challenge as the current was flowing very strongly and a big supply ship was maneuvering to tie up at the market dock right in my path. I cautiously waited under the fuel dock until it was safely settled in before rowing hard alongside it against the current to get to the floating pontoon.

Once ashore, my first stop was customs and immigration to satisfy the bureaucrats and then on to a Brazilian miner’s supply store where I had been told I should find some popcorn. ‘Pipoca? Sim, nos temos.’ Happy Day!
A 10l jerry can of diesel, kibble for the cat and a quick trip to the rum shop to spend any money I had left. We were ready to go.

There were still 4 hours left of the ebbing tide so I just dumped the shopping down below, got the dinghy up on deck and set off quickly to make the most of it. The tide was ebbing swiftly as the moon was just past new and soon I was negotiating the shallows at Skeleton Passage. Intermittent torrential rain showers added to the fun. But no problems and the rest of the afternoon saw us racing down the river at a steady 5 knots.

As these things tend to happen, we were in a narrow part of the channel running close to the shore and hemmed in by extensive shallows, when the big car ferry came lumbering up behind us. It wasn’t going much faster than Speedwell and it was going to be a fairly tight squeeze. I waited till it made a noticeable move away from the river bank which it had been hugging, before slowing right down and getting as close to the bank as I dared. The ferry rumbled slowly past. I waved and the captain gave me the thumbs up.

No more excitement and at about 16:30, when we were close to the Lau Lau Islands, the tide started to turn and it seemed like a good place to anchor for the night.

Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Before stopping last night I had inadvertantly wandered into a rather shallow patch and as it was nearly low water, this was another good reason to call it a day. When I checked the chart I saw that deeper water lay closer to the islands but felt safe in my 2.5 m and decided to stay.  Later, while enjoying my sundowner in the cockpit, I watched as an enormous barge passed slowly between me and the island on its way to the West Channel which is where we were also heading.

I had been given some waypoints for this channel and as it exits the river further north, it seemed like the logical route.

The morning started calm and sunnily but just as the tide began to turn and I was thinking of getting the anchor up, we were totally swamped by a drenching deluge. It soon passed and we were able to make a soggy start. That set the pattern for the day and as I had the sail up I had to rely on my raincoat and umbrella for keeping dry. I switched on the LED anchor light which comes on automatically when it gets dark as sometimes the rain was so heavy I was forced to throttle right down and wait for it to pass.  Fortunately it was a troublefree route with water rarely less than 4m deep, threading easily through the maze of islands. I was motoring and only had 4 panels of the sail up hoping to take advantage of the intermittent squalls.  The sail looked good in its new trim shape and if I’d been able to take my hands off the tiller and find a way of keeping the camera dry, I could have taken some good pictures of it to show the sceptics.

Inbetween rainshowers, I revelled in the passing scene. The channel runs close to Hog Island then crosses to Akuraikuru and sneaks between Liberty and Little Truli before crossing to a deep and fast flowing section close to Truli Island. All the Islands are covered in dense rain forest down to the waterline.  An amazing variety of different trees. Occasionally I spotted a parrot and there were hawks circling overhead. But the wildlife is hard to spot, especially if your attention is focussed on the echosounder. So it was more the general impression that made an impact.

Gloomy Wakenaam morning

We reached Wakenaam, the last sheltered spot to anchor just before low tide. I was grateful to be able to have another proper nights sleep before heading out and found a comfy place to stop and get the anchor down. My first chance to take a break all day. I had just got the kettle on when the heavens opened again and reduced visibility to the length of the cockpit. Perfect timing.

Wednesday, 19 December 2012

I had to wait until 10 am for slack water before heading out across the shoals. The incoming tide was rushing past carrying leaves, branches, plastic and sea foam, the water here, much muddier than further upstream. At last we were able to make a slow start. It was reassuring to notice that here my GPS positions showed correctly on the Navionics chart. The water gradually got shallower and the waves bigger as we approached the bar. By now the ebb was in full flow and for about 10 nm we raced and bounced along at 6 knots in fairly constant 3m of water. I was glad that I had remembered to pop a seasick pill before starting out. But soon enough the depth started to increase and at last we were really on our way. My last view of Guyana showed the low coastline shrouded with black rainclouds. The Christmas Rains had definitely arrived.

Sunday, 22 December 2012

Reefed down for the next squall

It’s roughly 300 miles from the mouth of the Essequibo river to Tobago. I had one day of sailing hard on the wind to get to deeper water offshore but with the current to help me the flattened sail managed it very respectably.  Next day was frustrating with one impossibly heavy rainsquall after another and the wind boxing the compass. Thanks to the current we still managed 50nm. After that things improved with a steady wind abaft the beam and cloudy skies to keep us cool.

We arrived in Man of War Bay, Tobago at 23:30 last night with enough light from a 3/4 moon to find a safe place to anchor. Quite a few of the boats that I had met in Guyana were also anchored in the bay.

Posted in Cruising, Guyana, Junk Rig | 4 Comments »

Back to the basic junk sail

Sunday, November 25th, 2012

A few years ago, while I was sailing in the Rio de la Plata delta, it became obvious that some serious sail maintenance was due. My old PVC sail had lasted well for 6 years but the gusty winds and Pamperos that happen quite frequently in that area had taken their toll.

Sailmaking in San Isidro

Luckily for me, I was able to borrow a Sailrite sewing machine from Pete Hill who was also in Buenos Aires at the time and I found a relatively clean and shady patch of concrete on the dock at Puerto Piratas in San Isidro, where I was able to lay out and sew a new sail. The friendly local stray dogs were keen to see what I was up to but their muddy pawprints were easy enough to clean off later.

At that time there had been a lot of discussion on the Junk Rig Association web site about the wonderfully improved performance to windward that could be achieved by adding some shape to the individual panels of the junk sail. Each panel billowing out and providing some much needed aerodynamic power. It looked and sounded impressive and I was keen to give it a try.

I decided to provide the extra volume for the somewhat euphemistically named ‘cambered’ or, to my eye more accurately, ‘baggy’ panels, by inserting a lens-shaped piece of fabric along each batten position. This time round I chose to use acrylic cloth rather than PVC which made the sewing much easier. A couple of fittings and adjustments were necessary before I eventually achieved a usable sail. I have to confess to being a trifle disappointed by the new creased and baggy appearance. But there was a noticeable improvement in windward performance so I reluctantly chose to let it be and spent a couple of years sailing up the coasts of Uruguay, Brazil and the Guianas.  Always a little embarrassed to display the sloppily baggy sail when raising it in a busy anchorage filled with sleek yachts and also having to put up with the effects of the increased strain on the rig. Lashings which had never given a moment’s trouble before were constantly chafing through. I was forever trying to improve the appearance of the sail by adding a parrel here, a tack line there…

It looked alright from a distance

I had come to the point of deciding that when I reached Trinidad I would remove the extra fabric and go back to my beautiful flat sail and suffer the slightly less spritely performance.

Then one fine day while anchored peacefully off Baganara island, the yacht ‘Do It’ arrived with Ruth and Angus on their way back to the UK after an extended circumnavigation. They had a Sailrite machine and were willing to lend it to me!  Bernhard and Sharmilla were happy to let me use some of their floorspace and so I set to work getting the sail down and ripping out what seemed like a few hundred meters of stitching.  The machine performed brilliantly and it only took three days of actual sewing to get it all back together again minus the bagginess. Sharmilla and Bernhard made me take a break for a delicious lunch with them each day and I was tempted to slow down a bit and spend a few more days enjoying the amenities but the Do Its were scheduled to leave in a day or two so I dutifully maintained the pace and within a week of taking the sail off I had it back up and looking the way I wanted. A sail to be proud of again.

Back to the old shape

It may seem like a regressive step to those who enjoy coaxing the best possible performance from their sails but when I find myself hundreds of miles offshore, alone and in uncertain weather, I prefer to forgo an extra knot or two for the peace of mind that the simpler and more durable flat sail provides.

The calm waters of the Essequibo make the anchorage an ideal place for doing maintenance and I’m hoping to tick off a few more jobs on my long to-do list before heading for Trinidad and putting the newly smoothed out sail to the test.

Tags: Sailrite, San Isidro
Posted in Cruising, Guyana, Junk Rig | 1 Comment »

On to Guyana

Thursday, September 27th, 2012

Thursday, 20 September 2012

To my relief the anchor came up cleanly. I had been a little worried as all the to-ing and fro-ing with the tide can make a horrible tangle of the chain. It had taken Pat and Lou on ‘Aragon’ nearly a day and a boatload of helpers to get free of an enormously heavy wooden beam that had become caught up in their chain.The muddy water makes it impossible to see anything and a mysterious aquatic world lurks quietly below.

By the time the ebb had started we were ready to go and enjoyed a fast sail down river. Not quite fast enough unfortunately and for the last few hours getting out over the shoals we were reduced to a doggedly slow but steady 2 knots. Just pleased to be able to stay in deep enough water without having to tack.

Checking out the hammock

By now Sinbad knows the routine and was happy to test out his hammock while I negotiated the bumpy water at the entrance to the river. At last the depth increased and the waves took on a more regular pattern. I turned up the coast with the full sail raised and the wind comfortably ‘abaft the beam’. The crescent moon set quite early leaving a wonderful starry night.

Saturday, 22 September 2012

Guyana landfall

After a relaxed and easy sail all of Friday, I arrived off the entrance to the great Essequibo River at dawn. The sky was grey and the water a pale milky chocolate. No sign of land other than clumps of tall sticks planted in the water for holding fishing nets. From a distance it looked like a continuous fence across the river but closer up there was plenty of room to sail between them. The water was a shallow 3 – 4 meters and I was blindly following GPS waypoints to get in. Wind and tide were helping me along so no need for the noisy hot engine. Gazing contentedly at the sail I was a little concerned to notice that one of the lazy jacks wasn’t properly tied off at the cleat on the boom. I really ought to stop and haul the sail in to re-fasten it. But we were going so nicely with the full sail all the way out, practically dead downwind with the Navik coping superbly.  I was loath to upset the status quo and convinced myself that we were only in a river after all and the wind was light. Just then a fierce rain squall struck. The sail gybed wrapping the sheet round the tiller and a protruding bit on the pushpit and the flagstaff. The sudden shock broke a probably already chafed lashing holding the second from the bottom batten to the sail leaving a confused mess of sail, battens and ropes with the wind now gusting ferociously and rain starting to lash us. As they say, ‘the show ain’t over till the fat lady sings’. Before doing anything else I had to quickly remove my expensive new hearing aids which are supposed to be water-resistant but I couldn’t afford to take a chance with them. Cheaper to replace the sail. That done, I was able to come up into the wind and untangle the sheet and release the halyard to drop a few panels. Of course they fell all the way down to the deck without the lazy jacks to retain them. There didn’t appear to be any actual damage. I rescued the escaped lazy jack and managed to lift the sail bundle to secure it again but the strong wind and now rough water made it very difficult to sort out properly. Only a couple of miles to go to reach sheltered waters so I fired up the engine and motored on through the deluge.

The rain didn’t last long and soon we were in calm water with visible land on either side. I stopped the engine and there was still enough usable sail area to keep us moving at 3 knots. It was a gloomy grey day and I hadn’t had more than the odd 20 minutes of sleep now and then since leaving Domburg three days ago. I was looking forward to stopping at Roed en Rust, the first sheltered spot to anchor. We were moving more slowly now as the tide was turning and I was forced to motor the last 5 miles to get in before dark. No lights at all to help one.  At last I identified the right place and went forward to get the anchor ready. The sun had just set and darkness descends rapidly. Just then a boatload of big men with coastguard life-jackets roared up and came alongside. I quickly slipped my tiny fenders between their rough wooden bulwarks and my pretty boat. It was Saturday evening and it looked as though they were heading home but had come over to investigate this strange foreign craft. I produced my passport and answered their questions about safety gear, etc. Sinbad did his usual successful PR job by jumping into their boat. They agreed that it was fine for me to spend the night where I was before moving on to Bartica in the morning to clear customs and immigration. They left cheerfully warning me to put out a good anchor light.  A quick bite to eat and I crashed into blissful oblivion.

Sunday, 23 September, 2012

Early morning at Roed en Rust

I woke up early keen to make the most of the flooding tide to help us to reach Bartica, a further 30nm up river. The timing was convenient and I raised the anchor at slack water and started motoring along. I hauled the sail up hopefully in case the wind strengthened  later. It was an exquisite morning, so different to yesterday.  Now we were moving along next to luscious equatorial rainforest.  A flock of snowy white egrets flew past in brilliant contrast to the intense greens of the jungle. Mostly blue sky with just enough small white clouds to keep things bearably cool. There were a few shallow patches to be avoided but the water was calm and generally deep enough although still too muddy to be able to judge by eye. In places the depth plummeted to more than 20m but the average was around 4 to 5.

Bartica waterfront

Passing Fort Island I was tempted to stop at one of the beautiful, small sandy beaches but the coastguard had phoned ahead to warn Bartica of my arrival.  Best to keep them happy. So on-on.

There was the usual cloudburst a few miles short of Bartica just as I was carefully crossing the shallows at Rattlesnake Passage.  A scattering of rocks in the area were now also totally obliterated by the torrential rain. I slowed right down and waited  for it to pass, which it did soon enough.

The town sits on a point of land where the Mazaruni river joins up with the Essequibo. I sailed up to the recommended anchorage opposite the municipal market and far enough off shore to allow the massive ore barges to use the channel. The waterfront  was busy with the weirdly shaped local water taxis. They have an exaggeratedly high prow and wooden thwarts for about 20 passengers. Massive outboard engines send them speeding over the water raising a high flaring wake. The passengers all seem to be wisely wearing bright orange lifejackets.

I decided to relax for the rest of the day and do my clearing-in first thing on Monday morning.

Tags: cruising
Posted in Cruising, Guyana, Junk Rig, Suriname | No Comments »