Category: sailing

Anything between point A and point B

October 24, 2014

Best Sailing Destination in the Caribbean

The holidays are coming… Snowbirds fly south and families start booking vacations. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? Would it be to one of these Exotic Sailing Destinations or maybe somewhere a bit closer to home?

Because we live on a boat, the question for us then becomes “What is our #1 favorite sailing destination?” There are literally THOUSANDS of islands in the Caribbean. While we have only visited a few of them so far, one group of islands sticks out in our minds as being somewhere we would go back to over and over again. Any ideas?

You guessed it… The British Virgin Islands!

Here are our top 10 reasons why the BVIs are our all-around favorite sailing destination:

1. Diving – The environment here meets all the requirements of what we like to call the 80-80-80 Rule, which makes for some incredible snorkeling and scuba diving.

2. Beaches – All of the islands have their own unique and picturesque beaches. White sand, crystal clear water and palm trees frame the shorelines turning every anchorage into the picture perfect backdrop for taking magazine quality photos.

3. Sailing Conditions – The islands are scattered perfectly in such a way where the prevailing East winds will allow a beam reach on a short day-sail to a different island every day. This is a great place to learn how to sail or just brush up on your skills. A sailing playground if you will; many will consider this the Charter capital of the world. Choose from an easy mooring ball, or a quiet anchorage away from the commotion.

4. Fishing – The North Drop and the South Drop are the two best fishing locations where you’ll find billfish, tuna, shark, wahoo, mahi mahi and most other pelagic game fish. Inshore, you can catch bonefish, tarpon, jacks and snapper.

5. Surfing – World class point breaks can be found in Cane Garden Bay and Apple Bay, but are usually only breaking in Winter months during a rare North swell.

6. Transportation and Accommodations – The BVI Tourism Authority has made this destination easy and affordable to enjoy. There are tons of cabanas, houses, resorts and even private islands for rent. Ferries operate daily to carry visitors and locals between the major islands. Even airlines offer specials flying to and from the Virgin Islands. It’s a quick hop back over to US territory if any emergencies arise.

7. Tourist Attractions – There are a dozen world renown attractions in these islands. Take a trip to The Baths on Virgin Gorda, The Bubbly Pool on Jost Van Dyke, RMS Rhone Shipwreck near Salt Island or The Caves at Norman Island.

8. Beach Bars – Experience one of the infamous Full Moon Parties at Bomba’s Shack at Apple Bay, sip on some Foxy’s Firewater Rum, kick back with Ivan, or swim up to The Soggy Dollar Bar to try out the original Painkiller.

9. Sunsets – The most spectacular colors will fill the sky at sunset each evening.

10. It’s the Caribbean, mon! – When we arrived in the BVIs, it was the first time we felt the laid-back tropical vibe we had been waiting for. We set our clocks for Island Time and the rest is history!

What’s your favorite travel destination?

October 19, 2014

The OH-MY-GOD-A (Anegada) Passage

6.26.14 – Sailing away from Virgin Gorda was a bittersweet moment. The islands we called home for an entire month slowly disappeared into a fuzzy haze on the horizon. The Saharan Dust layer was keeping the storms at bay as we set out for what seemed to be a beautiful day at sea.

Our new friends on Four Coconuts were 3 nautical miles behind us. We kept in radio contact checking in with each other every few hours, though most of the time we were out of sight. Just a few miles off shore, a dreadful feeling of uneasiness began to form in the pit of our stomachs. The waves got bigger and the fetch got shorter. We immediately recalled our first encounter with the Caribbean 2-step back along the Southern shores of Puerto Rico. We knew it would only get worse before it got better.

On a course 40-degrees Southwest to Saba we entered what is notoriously called the “OH-MY-GOD-A” (Anegada) Passage. It’s a straight in the Caribbean with some depths reaching more than 6,000 feet. Crazy currents flow through from the Atlantic as they feed into the Caribbean Sea and it’s not uncommon for waves to be slamming against the hull from three different directions.

“It felt as if we were riding a mechanical bull in a big blue pen”

It felt as if we were riding a mechanical bull in a big blue pen, slowly rocking forward followed by a quick jerk to the side in a wicked attempt to throw us from every spot we sat in. Around and around and up and down. The engine rumbled as the bull bucked on. This was the first time I had ever really felt seasick, even with medication. Seas were only 3-5′ but very disorganized.

The sails were tight to the wind, 18 knots off our port bow. Spending the last month in the BVIs definitely softened us a bit after playing in the sun and taking easy hour long sails between the islands, dinghy in tow and snorkel gear in hand.

5 foot seas aren’t even considered rough weather. Theyre just uncomfortable – especially on a 24 hour beat to Windward. Our rough passages from the Bahamas South, across the Thorny Path to Windward and the Puerto Rico pummeling all seemed so long ago. In reality it had only been 5 months since we left the dock in Florida starting out on this journey with absolutely zero sailing experience at all.

Heeled over and bucking back and forth, we calmly remember how green Peter and I are and how much more this boat can take than us. She’s a strong vessel built to cross oceans. By that point we wouldn’t have been able to remember that if we had taped it to eachother’s foreheads.

It was a terrible 30 hour long passage. We tacked up over the shoals near Saba labeled “TO BE AVOIDED” then crossed back down to the leeward side of the massive rock. Four Coconuts tried to warn us of the nasty wind gusts shearing off the island, but we couldn’t make out what they were saying on the radio. Suddenly, a blast of 35 knots hit us under full sail. Nothing like a burst of adrenaline…

Just after passing Saba, Peter insisted on putting the fishing lines out. “REALLY?” I grumbled. We were both exhausted and darkness was fast approaching. Our destination of a hopefully calm anchorage in Sint Eustatius (or Statia) was still 15 nm away. Any delays with fishing would surely put us there after dark.

Not 20 minutes later, ZINNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG!!! Peter hooked his first billfish!! A beautiful sailfish appeared on the surface as he fought the line. I quickly began to slow down the boat, check the charts, set the autopilot and grab the camera. It was a quick fight. As he reached down and grabbed the leader line to release it, the sailfish shook off before I could snap any more photos. Enough excitement for one day, we thought.

Still getting beat up by the Caribbean 2-step, we tacked all the way to Statia. Motorsailing as best we could, it still wasn’t enough to get us there before dark. 10 pm we finally neared Gallows Bai. Our radar screen warned us of the mooring field full of tankers. Their lights were deceiving and it helped to have a visual on each of them using AIS and radar.

Little did we know, there were dozens of steel oil drums floating amidst the tankers, invisible in the dark. These are mammoth sized mooring balls for the big ships and they float at water level, undetectable by radar. Even at 5 knots, it would be like hitting a shipping container if we accidentally ran into one. After safely making our way past the tankers we approached a small little anchorage toward the far end of town. We used our spotlight and weaved between some sleeping sailboats as we searched for an open mooring ball and picked one up on the first try.

Happy to be tied up, we had to accept the fact that our 30-hour passage wasn’t over. The anchorage was terribly rolly and just as uncomfortable as the passage itself. NOT what you want to experience after trying to hold your cookies in for hours on end. The dogs were happy to have a potty break and eat dinner. Peter and I managed to wolf down some cheese and crackers before going to bed. We left the mizzen sail up for stability, which helped dramatically. Saba would have been more exposed to the ocean swell so even though our conditions were less than desireable, they could have been much worse.

We spent Friday night and Saturday night on a ball and did not drop the dinghy to go to shore. We flew the Q flag and took our chances. Supposedly, moorings are $10/night on the honor system. You go pay on shore. Maybe it was because of the weekend, but no one came out to greet us so we didn’t pay. We were too tired to launch the dinghy when we didn’t plan on staying here more than a day.

Four Coconuts was feeling much more ambitious than us and took their kids on a hike to the top of the crater. Their boat is the catamaran with red sail covers in the photo, just to the left of us.

Though we didn’t go exploring on land, we did get a glimpse of the historic beauty on this quaint little island.

To the right of the old war cannons is a dead palm tree. Is it just me… or does it look like a native tribe member standing up on the wall???

Our first sighting of island goats…

How amazingly peaceful would it be to live here??

We’re currently catching up on projects and waiting out the rest of Hurricane Season down in Grenada.

Stay tuned to read about our scariest moment yet!!

October 13, 2014

Salty Myths and Secret Lore: Alien Encounters

SALTY MYTHS AND SECRET LORE… stories we’ve heard, and tales galore…

For ages, salty sailors have told stories of strange happenings out at sea. Though intrigued by the legends of those that have gone before us, the stories we tell here are first hand accounts and shared in detail by those directly involved.

You may remember us sharing our story of The Haunting of Bahia Escocesa several months back. Today we would like to share with you a story told by our friends Matt and Jessica aboard Serendipity. Their account of unexplained happenings during their recent Atlantic Crossing is enough to give anyone the heebie jeebies!

All text and photos below have been republished with permission. The original post by MJ Sailing can be found here.

Atlantic Crossing Part II Days 42 & 43: Alien Encounters

Thursday July 31, 2014

I’m not going to lie, it’s starting to get really hard (and boring, probably for all of us) for me to come up with something to put for every single day of this crossing. So until we make landfall, I’m only going to put down things that are worth putting down. And then hopefully, just hopefully, I can start getting pictures and stories up of what I’m assuming is amazingly beautiful Horta.

On that note though, something happened that I thought was kind of cool and noteworthy. Today we crossed a spot on the globe where we had the exact same coordinates for latitude and longitude. I wonder how often that happens for people? I obviously haven’t done a lot of research on the subject, but it seems like a lot of areas covered by land (or at least the United States) are higher than 80 degrees West, meaning there is no matching latitude. So to find numbers close enough to match pretty much means you’re going to be over water. Maybe something random I can add to my bucket list? Seems like a cool enough accomplishment.

Oh, and if you can tell from the photo, we’ve now passed the stationary gale (which has all dissipated now) and we can begin heading north and directly toward Horta again!

Friday August 1, 2014

There’s just something about me and night shifts and strange lights. Don’t get me wrong, that fireball I spied just a few days outside of Bermuda was probably a once in a lifetime sight that I’ll never forget and may be worth crossing the Atlantic for itself (mayb-be), but the past few nights seem to be surprising me with questionable lights amidst the dark. Yesterday morning around 2 am I was popping my head up on deck between relaxing with my podcast on the comfortable settee below to see what looked like a flashlight beam oh so briefly shine on our American flag flapping at the stern. There is nothing on the boat that could have illuminated it at that angle so brightly unless Matt decided to sneak up behind me with an actual flashlight, unnoticed by me, while I still stood on the steps. Very unlikely. As my heart quickly jumped into my throat I thought it was another boat trying to identify us, but after frantically searching the horizon and then turning to the radar, we were the only thing out there. Alien encounter? Apparently once they realized we were American it was enough to make them leave us alone.

Which brings me to this morning’s odd light. More astrological than extraterrestrial, but still startling nonetheless. It was moments into my 12-4 am shift when I was just climbing up the steps to do a cursory glance before my more in depth check that would be coming up in ten minutes (what can I say?, I like to stick to my schedule), the sky directly in front of us suddenly lit up as if the deck light had been thrown on. In the split second it took my mind to register that this shouldn’t be happening I saw a very bright greenish-white sphere fall from the sky leaving a bright trail behind it. My first thought was ‘Oh my god, it’s a flare!!’. Although from what I’ve been told, flares are red or orange and nothing else. But this was close! As in, someone must be lighting off fireworks next to our boat close. Surely it couldn’t be a meteor?

Quite startled and still not fully registering what had just happened in the two seconds it took to happen I let out an audible and nervous “Ummm….” as Matt was still settling himself into bed. Asking what was the matter I told him that I’d just seen a very bright light that looked flare-like just ahead of us, and as he raced to untangle himself from the sheets he had just slipped under, I added “But it was greenish-white”, knowing that his first thought would be that someone in a life raft was trying to alert us to their existence. By now my head was finally wrapping itself around the fact that it probably was a meteor. Just a very, very close meteor, and that there was no need to worry. Not taking any chances though, he dove into full rescue mode, not wanting to risk the possibility of missing someone out there trying to signal us. Asking me question after question of exactly where I’d seen the light, how close it was, and what kind of shape it took, he set about trying to figure out our drift and trajectory while trying to find out when and how close we’d come to the source of the light After ten minutes of more horizon scans, scrutinizing the radar, and follow up questions such as ‘If it were you, how long would you wait to set off a second flare?’, I assured him that, as amazing and unlikely as it was, I think we were just incredibly close to a meteor that happen to be falling in this vast ocean that we’re traveling. He finally relented and went back to bed as I promised to stay up there for a while longer, keeping an eye out for any more lights or loud signaling noises.

In non-astrological news, we’re continuing our path directly north as we ride the east winds before they shift east in the next day or two and force us to turn directly east instead. So close and yet so far away. I keep focusing on the miles remaining as the crow flies, wishing we could take that same direct path, trying to count down our arrival based on those numbers, but instead preparing myself for yet another day or possibly two at sea on top of my predictions because we’re forced to travel at 90 degree angles instead. The pressure is still steadily rising, now at 1022, 10 mb higher than we were 48 hours ago, and I guess I should just be grateful for having any wind at all as we make our way into yet another high pressure system.

In more exciting news, I saw another sailboat today. What??!! I honestly didn’t think that would happen until we were within 20 miles of Faial. For some reason this sight makes me extremely giddy. We’re not alone out here, the only thing under 400 ft and carrying cargo. Part of me wants to call them up on the VHF just to say hi and find out where they’re going. Possibly get a little encouragement from someone out here that’s just as crazy as us. Another voice to say, ‘Yup, we’re right there with you’. Except, knowing our luck, they’d come back with, ‘You’ve been out how long??!! We just left the states two weeks ago. You must be traveling extremely slow’. Yup, that’s a much more likely scenario. Maybe they won’t get a call after all.

Be sure to visit MJ Sailing’s BLOG and FACEBOOK PAGE for ridiculously gorgeous photos and beautifully written stories about all of their cruising adventures.

If you have any salty myths or secret lore that you’d like to see published here, please contact us on the blog or through our FACEBOOK PAGE!

July 27, 2014

The Spanish Virgins: Paradise in Culebrita

Mom was SO excited to go for her first sail! We left Salinas on May 18th around 8:30 at night. It was beautiful and still inside the harbor. As we motored out, we saw not one but TWO flares go off, just East of us outside the harbor. Couldn’t be fireworks. They were most definitely flares. Peter immediately got on the radio announcing what we saw and the US Coast Guard responded right away. They asked that we call them from our Sat Phone to give them all the details. They asked what our course was, the approximate location of the flares, the seconds between the shots, the angle and speed of the flares and any other information we could give them. It was really quite reassuring how totally “On It” the Coast Guard was. I mean, you always wonder if you really needed help, would anyone hear you?

Within what seemed like minutes, a helicopter was flying above us with a spotlight. We never did find out if they found whoever had shot off the flares but hopefully everyone was okay.

The seas along the Southern Coast of Puerto Rico were nasty. The night lees we found in the DR were long gone and the Trade Winds were creating something fierce on the surface of the seas. The waves had the shortest period we had encountered yet, bashing against our hull as we motored hard to wind. Uncomfortable was a mild way to put it. After just a short while, Mom wasn’t feeling too well, giving her a terrible first impression of her journey.

Mom stayed up with me for my watches and we slept when Peter took watch. 15 hours later we arrived at Puerto Real, Vieques, around 11:30 am. We decided to take it easy that day and stay overnight. The next day, we left Puerto Real and took a short trip over to Ensenada Honda (or The Turtles). The day after that (May 21st), the weather looked good and we decided to take a three-hour sail and detour up to Culebrita instead of heading straight to the USVI.

As we rounded the point into the anchorage on Culebrita, we saw a gorgeous white sand beach and clear blue water. This place looked like PARADISE compared to the anchorages we had been staying in ever since the Bahamas. There were about 4 boats on mooring balls near the beach. We decided to anchor in a sandy patch a little further back.

Peter took off on a paddle board to go say hi to our friends on Rainbow, just across the anchorage. Last time we saw Rainbow was back in La Parguera so it was nice to see a familiar boat. We spend a fantastic three days here in this magical little place. If we ever come back this way, we will definitely schedule in some extra time to come back here. One of our favorite places for sure.

Lobster Season on Culebrita happens to be YEAR ROUND! The anchorage here is also on the North Coast of the island which is supposedly not affected by Ciguatera, notoriously found on the South side of Vieques and Culebra. Within the first 15 minutes of snorkeling around the reef nearest our boat, Peter spotted a monster lobster down about 20′. He used his snare to catch him and quickly swam towards a sandy patch away from the reef. If the lobster were to get loose, it’s best to take it where there is no where to hide. By handling lobster over the reef, they can easily wiggle away and crawl into a hole faster than we can swim back down.

We stayed on Culebrita for three nights. Every night we were there we had fresh grilled lobster. Peter dove hard for them for many hours and always towards the end of the day he would come up with some of the biggest lobster we’ve ever seen. Although leery of the larger fish, he hooked a few mutton snapper off the back of the boat each night as well. The larger ones have a higher chance of containing Ciguatera so Peter let those ones get away.

Gunner and Betsy had SOOOO much fun swimming at the beach! Betsy would spend the whole day in the water if she could. Gunner goes back to the dinghy when he’s tired and barks at us to lift him back in :)

Gunner wasn’t too sure about our dinghy anchor…

Gunner was very excited to find a coconut up on the beach. He kicked it around a few times but eventually figured out he couldn’t eat it. I think he likes to be where the coconuts grow just as much as we do!

Friday was the start of Memorial Day Weekend. All the Puerto-Rican power boats cruised in, one after another, after another, after another!! We were amazed at how many there were. 60+ at least. Other cruisers had told us about the “Puerto-Rican Navy,” and that this is a regular occurrence on the weekends but we didn’t understand until we saw it ourselves. The music got louder, the wake got larger, and the bikini bottoms got smaller. It kind of ruined the whole place. Being anchored next to a bunch of rowdy naked people partying all night long is not our idea of paradise so we got out of there as fast as we could.

It was a short sail over to St. Thomas, USVI, on the 24th of May. We arrived just in time to pick up my grandmother (Mom’s mom) who everyone knows as “Bean” the very next day. We’ve had some pretty amazing timing on this adventure and this is just another example of how everything happens for a reason, at exactly the right time!

July 16, 2014

Beating to Wind: The Southern Coast of Puerto Rico

Our perfect Mona Passage crossing landed us on the Southern coast of Puerto Rico, in La Parguera, around 8am the morning of May 6th. We spent two nights resting at anchor near the mangroves just outside the town.

We didn’t find La Parguera to be “cruiser friendly” at all. There was no dinghy dock but a few of the local shops on the water let us tie up to their docks while we took a look around. On a second trip to shore, we found it was much easier and more welcoming to buzz up to the deserted boat ramp and tie up to the mangroves wading in to shore. No one was there to give us funny looks and it was off the beaten path which also seemed a bit safer. The town felt dirty, and not much nicer than some of the places we saw in the DR. We hoped to find some cheap authentic and tasty Puerto Rican food but our tastebuds were completely underwhelmed. Other cruisers we met along the way told us they loved La Parguera… maybe they visited other parts of town?

The remainder of our time here was spent resting on the boat. There was much sleep to catch up on after the last week of night crossings. It’s amazing how turned around your body can get sleeping during the day and staying up all night, then trying to switch back to nighttime sleeping.

On the second night, we finally began to feel a little more adventurous and took the dinghy two miles east to the Bioluminescence Bay as recommended by several locals and our Active Captain overlay in our Garmin App. As the darkness surrounded us, we sat and waited. The water was still and all was quiet. We were the only ones there. Soon, splashing our hands in the water generated small glowing streaks of blue light. We zipped in circles around the bay while huge balls of light shot out from behind the dinghy like fireballs in Super Mario Brothers. It was a pretty cool sight to see. About an hour later, we cruised back to our boat between the mangrove islands following the tracks on our iPhone Garmin app. The charts aren’t completely accurate here, placing safe water where shoals and islands reside, but we trusted our tracks in the pitch black.

A good habit to get into when arriving in a new anchorage is to stop by and meet the neighbors. We like to meet other cruisers anchored nearby and check in to see if they have any local knowledge – good, bad or otherwise. SV Rainbow was the only boat there with us. We had heard of Mark and Tina in the news several months back after they were brutally attacked on Rainbow down island. Tina was away from the boat at the time but we got to talk to Mark for awhile. The cruising community is a small world and the farther we travel the more we are meeting people with mutual friends. We learn so much from stories we hear and the experiences of others. Mark had some great tips for us on a few of the places we planned on visiting.

Mark also had a current weather report and our magic window appeared to hold up for just one more day before turning nasty. We pulled up anchor that afternoon, hoping to sweep under the nearly non-existent Puerto-Rican night lees. The wind and waves we faced on the Southern Coast of Puerto Rico were just as rough as the North Coast of the DR. The current swept us back while our 80hp Ford Lehman engine chugged along beating straight into the wind. We tacked off shore and back in again several times trying to make forward progress.

We motor-sailed our little hearts out. It was a last minute decision to skip Ponce and push on for Salinas. We had read such bad reviews about the anchorage at Ponce and after our less than enjoyable experience at La Parguera, we opted for a warm welcome in a “cruiser friendly” and safe anchorage. The journey there was rough, but we made it. We watched another gorgeous sunrise and took down the sails in the early hours of the morning. We both had a huge sigh of relief as we motored slowly into the harbor where the seas instantly turned to glass. We knew we’d be safe when the winds picked up in just a few short hours.

Stay tuned for a few highlights from our time in Salinas! We’re in St. Lucia now and have so much to share with you about all our adventures!!