January 31
Since we arrived in Puerto Rico (PR), we welcome the day with calls from the neighbourhood roosters. These colourful birds are everywhere: on sidewalks, alleys, parking lots. Some of them don't have their internal clock well programmed; they call the new day at any time of the day.
When we left Bahia de Jobos, PR, our itinerary was hopefully travel all night to Vieques Island (South shore). However, by midnight, we had to stop at Patillas, PR due to a leak from the water pump. Frank, my favorite handyman, figured out that a good cleaning was the only thing required. And, indeed, after now a week we didn't find another leak. I love my handyman! He's good with his hands ... (remove your mind from the gutter, you!)
Patillas to Vieques (village of Esperanza) went very well. What a relief! Again, we travelled at night when the winds/waves have lessened. About the winds this year in this region, we've been talking to a few locals because they are so strong (often 20+ knots and 23-28 knots gusts on top of the winds) and unrelenting or barely. They all say that this pattern is unusual; 10-15 knots has been the standard at this time of year. And, they say that the temperature is much cooler; ie 21-23 degrees celcius at night. Being from Canada, we don't mind the cooler temperature at night; we sleep better. But we hope the wind pattern is not the new normal.
In the village of Esperanza, you can rent ATV's and scooters to discover parts of the island. Also, in Mosquito Bay, a few miles from our anchorage (Sun Bay), there are bioluminescents. Again, you can pay for a night tour on see-through kayaks to see them. Bioluminescents are planktons that lit up when disturbed. As we night sail, we see them in the waves made by the boat. The waves looked like lace studded with diamonds.
Sun Bay has a long beach of fine white sand. There are many wild horses on the beach that love of piece of your picnic if you're not careful; but that otherwise leave you alone.
The following leg of our journey from Sun Bay to St. Thomas was one of the most frustrating sail. We had been waiting for winds that would be at least 30 degrees from our bow; 40-50 would be even better. For many days, no good direction was possible. We had to continue our trip; we decided we would zigzag our way North East to St. Thomas. The wind/waves directly on our bow slow us down considerably (2-3 knots/hour). The winds at 70-90 degrees (on the side of our boat) make us fly to a fun 7-8 knots/hour; it makes me smile from ear to ear. So, for this leg, the winds/waves (18-20 knots wind, 1 meter wave) were no more - often less than - 30 degrees and the swells (1.5 meters) were on the side. We could only double-reef our main sail; forget the head sail. The first stretch of 12 miles along the South shore of Vieques took us 4 hours. On a good day, this distance would have taken us a bit more than 2 hours. A few times, the bow dipped completely in the water. As we were motoring along a channel to our destination, I was at the wheel, a seaplane flew beside us no more than 400 feet away and landed so close. As I didn't hear it coming I jumped and, after the sail we had just experienced my nerves were a bit frayed, my heart skipped a beat I'm sure. Anyway, we were glad when we dropped the anchor at Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas mid-afternoon.
Yesterday, we treated ourselves: had our 3 meals in different restaurants/bars, walk the town (17,000 steps of it). Dinner at Meson Amalia was a perfect ending of a perfect day. The food was beautifully presented and sooo delicious. We had a great conversation with a local cruise boat owner Keith (he has 14 of them) about his enterprise, the unusual weather, our journey. Because of covid, many of his skippers and crew have left the island or found other jobs; so he's scrambling to find replacements. If we didn't have our own boat, it could be a job we could do. We've been looking for a boat insurance company that covers the Caribbean. We find that our current insurance company from Canada is skittish about insuring boats that travel down South. Keith graciously gave us the name of an American company that covers many boats in the Caribbean. We'll look it up.
Now, we have 2 more legs to reach St. Maartens before Feb. 6. Today, we'll sail to Coral Bay, St. John, USVI for one night. Tomorrow, starting at 05:00, we'll head North to Ginger Island to get a better wind angle then turn South East to St. Maartens. We should arrive early Thursday.
January 18
Wow! So much happy emotions this morning when I woke up and saw Puerto Rico South West coast a mile away, Faro Los Morrillos proudly perched on top of a sunlit escarpment. A welcome sight!
From Turks and Caicos, this 3-day-non-stop sail was our longest challenge so far. We had chosen our weather window to arrive at San Juan, Puerto Rico in 3 days and 6 hours. This forecast predicted winds from our stern on Day 1 to 30 degrees of our bow on Day 3, no stronger than 20 knots; swells on our portside and waves following the winds.
Losing our Iridium GO, we took our latest forecast from the internet an hour before departure. We left South Bank Marina on Caicos at 6h45 Sunday morning.
Day 1: It took us the whole day to cross Caicos Banks to the Turks Islands. 10-knot winds to our stern allowed us to raise the sails (including the spinnaker - the big balloon up front) and save some fuel. We looked goood! As soon as we left the banks and the ocean was thousands of feet deep, the swells accompanied us all the way. We motorsailed during the night to keep our speed to a minimum of 5 knots.
Looking at swells, and waves on top of them, the constant movement of water is like looking at the flames of a campfire, mersmerizing. I now understand reading about peaks and valleys of the ocean. The 2-3 metre swells we had came every 8-9 seconds. I was seeing them coming, a valley of water between them and Komeekha, building in height, blocking my view of miles. Then, gently passing under our boat, lifting us to a 15-mile view of more swells. Wow! What a feeling! At the beginning, it took my breath away. After an hour of this, it's business as usual, yet still fascinating.
Day 2: When we passed by the Turks Islands the night before, it was our last view of land and civilization. Our next glimpse of land will be a dim shimmer of light on the horizon towards Punta Cana after sunset 2 days later. Now it's just water everywhere.
We were able to raise our sails again for most of the day, averaging speed at 5-6 knots. The sea was the same as the previous afternoon. We started to see a few dolphins and lots of flying fish. When I see flying fish, it reminds me of the novel "The Life of Pi" in which the little boy is overwhelmed by flying fish jumping in his little boat.
We had to keep vigilant to spot floating sargassum seaweed. This seaweed floats in a line or in closters as large as 6 feet. It can easily clog the propeller and put too much pressure on the engine. A few times, Frank had to put the gears alternately on forward, neutral, reverse to remove the seaweed. Thankfully, this maneuver worked.
As the sun set, the winds picked up. The wave action was changing the wind direction on the sail, making the sail flapped, some times violently. Before we had time to reef the mainsail, two sliders broke. Sliders are the sail attachments to the mast. By this time, it is pitch black and Komeekha is bucking like in a rodeo. There's no way, either of us are leaving the cockpit to go on deck for repair. Too dangerous. After Frank double-reefed the mainsail from the cockpit, our little problem was solved until the morning.
Day 3: The winds are a bit stronger with a forecast of increasing to 20 knots. The forecasted 30 degree wind angle is too close to the bow (the front). The swells were staying on our portside but the waves were changing with the wind to our bow. If we stay the course, we won't progress very quickly (3-4 knots max); and it would be a very uncomfortable sail. So we made the decision of veering South, sailing between Puerto Rico and Dominican Republic, following the south coast of Puerto Rico, ending up either at Bahia de Guanica or Ponce. Oh by the way, on the map, it shows the ocean in certain spots on our route is 12,000 to 23,000 feet deep! Yikes!
As soon as we changed our bearing for this new itinerary, Komeekha just flew. It was as if she decided this was her time to have some fun. Our speed increased during the day from 5 to 8 knots, on sails only. It was bouncy but oh yes so fun! By midnight, winds and waves had decreased and changed direction; we started the engine for the rest of the way.
When I woke up this morning, Komeekha had just turned the South West corner of Puerto Rico. We're now on Atlantic Time, one hour ahead of Quebec/Ontario. We had another happy surprise when Frank realized we could start using our cellular service just like at home. What a relief to finally be able to freely communicate with all of you at any time.
As I write, we are still navigating the South shore to Ponce. We should arrive early afternoon. We need to clear Customs and then we celebrate! Well ... we kind of started to celebrate this morning with breakfast burritos (leftover rice/bean salad, eggs and cheese wrapped in tortillas) and Irish Cream coffees. LOL!
September 25
Dear Fiona, We planned your visit a few days before your arrival. During that planning phase, we traced your progress from Dominican Republic on September 19 to your arrival in Nova Scotia on September 23 with 130 km/h winds.
August 14
Our initial plans, back in Quebec City, were to go to Iles-de-la-Madeleine, a 89-hour trip. After our experience with many long days and nights, we decided to forgo the islands and follow the coast of New Brunswick with a couple of stays on Prince-Edward Island.
August 1
Covid is over. Engine is repaired. Weˋre leaving Quebec City. I never thought Iˋd be excited to leave this city. Itˋs beautiful; thereˋs lots to do; and it has all the things a cherish most:
