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DoodleBug Reloaded!!

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DoodleBug 2015 Trip Logs  Australia 2013 Trip Logs  Cruise Trip Logs  eBooks

 

 

 

September 2016 -- Website Update: DoodleBug has been "reloaded" and has made the transition from rental boat to cruising boat. I have moved all of the 2015 "blog" to "trip logs" which you can accessing by clicking the catamaran picture to the right. I finally ADDED PICTURES to the trip logs. I also just completed updating all of the e-Books so that the pictures display properly when using Apple's iBook app. I have tested these on an iPad3.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

January 2016 -- Website Update: We have bid Australia a sad farewell for a while and our Toyota Coaster RV HAS BEEN SOLD!!! Thank You Ray at Koolah Kampers!! (see www.koolahkampers.com.au). I have re-ordered the daily entries into time order, moved the trip-logs to a new page and ADDED PICTURES!!. You will find the link to the right (click on the white bus picture).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The logs of our sailing circumnavigation were moved down a level and you will find the link to the right (click on the S/V DoodleBug picture to get to the "old" web-site).

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have also "cleaned up" the sailing logs and reformatted them into .epub files, so that they may be downloaded and read at your convenience on an iPad or Kindle reader as "e-books". Because there are about 6,000 embedded photos in the original website, I needed to split the log of the cruise into 18 "volumes". To date, I have tested these eBook files on both a "Kindle Fire" and an "iPad3". Click right on the "books" icon to access the files for download.

I have also finished the task of converting the Australia "Walkabout" blog to 11 volumes of "e-books", also accessible here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

January 4, 2017

We began the morning with a stint of rock and sand collecting. That is, Annette transferred from the dinghy to a kayak off a rocky beach on the windward side of Jost Van Dyke and landed. I then oriented the dinghy towards St. Johns and paddled aimlessly for the next thirty minutes or so, while chanting, “I want to come to America”. This was to prevent becoming a dinghy castaway on the rocks beneath my lee and I got to wave carelessly at about a half dozen boats that passed me by and gazed curiously. They were probably wondering where the porta-potty sail was. Annette then bravely managed to launch her kayak through the surf and I started the dinghy motor and rescued her from more physical exertion than she had planned. I then paid last night’s mooring fee at the nearby bar / restaurant and a man in a dinghy arrived minutes later demanding his fee. I explained that I had already paid and he insisted that I had paid at the wrong place and should pay again. I stated that my rule says I only pay once and it was his problem. He left angrily.

At 0930 hours we dropped our mooring and headed to Crown Bay Marina at St. Thomas in order to collect a batch of Annette’s laundered bedding, plus top up on diesel and water. We then checked in with US Customs and Border Patrol who of course insisted that we do the whole entry procedure of Customs and Immigration. It was a slow afternoon anyway.

January 3, 2017

Our lethargy is over and we raised our anchor at 0905 hours to head over to Little Bay, Jost Van Dyke. Here we had arranged to meet Neil and Janet aboard S/V Imaloa, plus six of their friends from a Pensacola sailing club. We have been corresponding by e-mail for several months and it was great to finally meet up for a pleasant evening chatting with fellow sailors about all things marine.

January 2, 2017

The third rainy day in a row! We made a necessary beer restocking and trash unstocking run but the highlight of the day was a trip to the movie theatre to watch “Rogue One”, the recently released Star Wars movie. This was a fun flick and the movie theatre here is conveniently adjacent to “Cost-U-Less”, a sort of “Costco” clone. St. Thomas is big on “cooking” sherry but drinkable quality is hard to come by, however at Cost-U-Less, we struck the mother lode of Graham’s Port and cleared the shelf. We now consider DoodleBug properly provisioned and ready for sea.

January 1, 2017

Sunday in the Caribbean and New Year’s Day. Needless to say this was a slow day. Annette made her second attempt to “cook” eggs with her solar cooker. This was supposed to provide the equivalent of “hard boiled” eggs within an hour. Unfortunately, it was again cloudy with lots of rain showers and I even ran the water maker to delay our need to head for a refueling / watering dock. The first egg cooking attempt can be judged a total failure but the fish might have been happy with the “test” egg. One of the major flaws of a “solar energy based” economy is now readily apparent. The second batch of eggs were left for about six hours of cooking instead of the claimed “one hour” and were then both cooked and edible without using the hydrocarbon based backup system referred to as a “kitchen stove”. The weather forecast had confidently predicted clear sunny skies for this week.

December 31, 2016

A rainy day. I am still going down the “fixit” list although we are now down to items such as, “repair screw-hole in starboard plastic sunscreen rail”, a job I have been procrastinating about for over a year. Annette in turn did her “small items” laundry while I began to catch up on the usual end of year financial items. Annette also chose the single worst day of the week to test her “solar oven” in an attempt to cook “chili”. This is an elaborate affair of reflectors, temperature gauges and black silicone pans that of course requires sunlight to function. She used the kitchen stove to finish the cooking attempt and although the chili tasted great, I couldn’t tell if it was 50% solar, 75% or zero %. Tasted just like chili.

I went to bed early, awoke at 2325 hours and then went back to bed on the assumption that any mid-night celebration would awaken me again. It was 0300 hours when next I arose and Annette said that there had been fireworks and someone beating a tin drum. I don’t believe her.

Happy New Year!

December 30, 2016

We have checked the engines and generator for departure readiness and continued with our boat chores. In the afternoon we took a trip to the doctor for some prescriptions. I managed to get sick the day after we left St. Thomas with our guests. I would have gone to an Urgent Care clinic, if one had actually existed nearby, for a course of antibiotics, prednisone and an asthma inhaler, all of which were I had safely stored in my bathroom in Santa Fe. Now back in St. Thomas, the site of the nearest clinic, the doctor I visited prescribed all three items. I always trust doctor’s who agree with both my diagnosis and treatment plan.

December 29, 2016

A new day and we headed over to Crown Bay Marina to drop off the accumulated laundry and finally picked up “Slim” our missing crew member. Slim has been losing weight since Halloween and is a five foot tall plastic “pirate” skeleton with a gold tooth, wooden leg, hook on hand and skeleton of parrot on shoulder. We needed him here two weeks ago to help with the treasure hunt.

I faced the usual stack of boat repairs. Of the more serious deficiencies was the collapse of the “hold open” strut on the forward starboard bow locker. These locker lids are heavy and can do serious damage if they fall upon an unprotected extremity. By a minor miracle we already had a replacement strut on board. I had ordered a new strut for the anchor locker lid and the company had shipped the wrong unit. I could not find a copy of my original order, so I kept the part and re-ordered the correct unit. The current broken strut was so badly corroded that its provenance and labeled dimensions were impossible to determine. I discovered that my “new” stored part was the same length, switched the end fasteners and tested it. Perfect! Sometimes you win one.

December 28, 2016

A final lunch together ashore at the “Fat Turtle” and the restaurant provided a “floor show” in that the chef emerged from the darkened depths of the kitchen to promise to show the kids “something special” and then re-emerged about five minutes later bearing a tray of Mahi-Mahi trimmings. He fed the pieces slowly into the harbor waters and we all watched as first the smaller fishes fought for the scraps and then the huge tarpon arrived, four feet long and shoving the smaller fish effortlessly aside. The next to arrive were the yellow jacks and these were so fast, they had snatched the food morsels and were gone before the large tarpon had turned around. Great entertainment!

All too soon it was time to make the run to the airport where we were soon separated by the security screenings. We returned to an empty and quiet DoodleBug.

December 27, 2016

This morning we hauled all the water toys aboard and lashed them down, raised the dinghy and made ready for sea, dropping our mooring at 0915 hours. We then sailed to Charlotte Amalie and anchored in Long Bay, arriving at 1055 hours, position 18 20.3 N 064 55.6 W. We dropped the crew, save Maddox, onshore to wander through the downtown flea market and then Maddox, Annette and I made the dinghy trip to the “Mail Stop” at Crown Bay marina to pick up our missing crew member “Slim”. These are the same morons at “Mail Stop” who dropped and shattered the marble sculpture she had purchased in Curacao and they had sent Annette an e-mail in response to her enquiry regarding the status of her current shipment. This morning they claimed that described package had been collected by a “different boat” and that she had been notified of such by e-mail “several hours earlier”. Bullcrap! We left fuming. Maddox was thrilled however as we passed within feet of a container ship that was being unloaded by crane.

Next was lunch ashore with the whole crew and then back to DB for packing. That evening we again loaded everyone in the dinghy and drove in the narrow canyon between a moored super-yacht and a huge cruise ship, bound for the dinghy dock at Yacht Haven Marina for our final dinner ashore. The cruise ship was attempting to leave and hundreds of passengers waved at us while our crew waved back yelling, “Happy New Year!”. I am sure that the cruise ship captain was cursing us as he couldn’t use his thrusters until we were clear.

December 26, 2016

The wind was still blowing when Matt and I made an emergency run to Cruz Bay for beer. This was becoming a very rough ride in the dinghy and we were headed “downhill”, meaning it would likely be worse on the return journey. The waves grew as we approached the narrow passage between Ramgoat Cay and the rocks at Hawksnest Point, with its conflicting, swirling currents where the Windward Passage is compressed. It is times like this that you bless having a pair of heavy diesel engines instead of a single spluttering outboard motor. At Cruz Bay we stocked up on vital beer, plus less vital milk and dinghy gas before making the return trip to DoodleBug. On our return the wind had picked up strength, Matt’s hat was snatched away from his head, lost instantly amongst the waves and we made the return passage through the Ramgoat Cay pass with waves over six foot tall, towering when you are in a dinghy. Now we could see Maho Bay ahead of us and the wind and waves stayed high until we were within a hundred yards of DoodleBug when the shelter of America Hill asserted itself and we were in calm waters once more.

While we had been away, Annette had baked fresh bread and fixed an amazing gumbo that she has been “developing” the recipe for over the past few weeks - the color of the roux and proportions of seafood and okra requiring precise adjustment. The kids had spent the whole day swimming and playing on the beach, thus supper was well appreciated by all.

December 25, 2016

Christmas Day! Somehow, Santa had found DoodleBug during the night and presents for the grandchildren were stacked on the salon table around an eighteen inch high, red foil Christmas tree. After the opening of presents and breakfast, all (save one) climbed aboard the dinghy and we cruised slowly parallel to the beach at Maho Bay, looking for a man dressed like a “pirate” who had been spotted earlier carrying a sack and a shovel. As we rounded Maho Point, lustily singing “Jingle Bells”, those of us more perceptive than others spotted Annette, running like a demented elf and trying to be inconspicuous on an empty strand while wearing a bright red Santa hat. We continued our offshore search along nearby Francis Bay beach before returning to where we had spotted Annette earlier. Here we landed the dinghy and the pirate crew were met by a huge (“dinner sized”) crab that waved his “fighting” claw threateningly and stood his ground on all eight legs. After he had been photographed to near extinction, the crew then set about searching for tracks on the beach that might indicate wherever the mysterious man had buried his loot. Several spots along the beach were examined and test holes dug but the excitement grew when a large “X” was found (made from black duct tape) on the sand. The possibility that it was made from tarred human skin was never even considered as it was roughly cast aside and an excavation begun on the spot.

The hole was becoming remarkably deep when finally a shovel hit something solid. From the hole a large purple bag was withdrawn that contained not one but three treasure chests. Even more amazing was that the chests bore names that matched those of our grandchildren!

We had earlier cancelled Xmas dinner at Foxy’s restaurant on Jost Van Dyke and substituted “made from scratch” pizzas, washed down with champagne, at least the big children got the champagne. Merry Christmas!

December 24, 2016

I awoke at 0400 hours and found the party ashore at Foxy’s still in full swing. After breakfast we quizzed our crew on how everyone was doing and the ladies felt that Jost was “too buggy” in the early evening, particularly “no see ums”. A rapid decision and we determined to cancel our Christmas dinner reservation at Foxy’s and head over to St. Johns.

I was soon ashore with all of the passports and exit papers and had always walked in and out of the Customs and Immigration office here. This morning there were eight or so crews ahead of me, checking “in”. I waited patiently as the various Captains, all of whom were operating charters, were discussing the bad weather and rough conditions they and their guests had experienced. Finally I made it to the front of the line and within minutes was cleared and bound for Cruz Bay, St. John.

Unlike the BVI’s, where only the Captain may leave the vessel when clearing in, the USA requires all crew members to show up. We anchored just off the Cruz Bay channel markers and dinghied the crew over to the Customs and Border Protection dock where we were admitted back into the USA. We were soon up-anchored and bound for Maho Bay, heading into a stiff wind and choppy sea. We picked up a mooring close to the beach and were in another world, with placid water and only a light breeze. As we approached the mooring buoy, grandson Maddox had exclaimed, “There is nothing here!”.

This observation was not entirely true and after sunset we were visited by a half dozen or so dinghies containing Christmas carolers. They seemed to know only two carols but were very welcome nonetheless.

December 23, 2016

Early this morning we motored over to the fuel dock to refill our water tanks and then returned to the same mooring. The balance of the day was spent “playing” on the beach in Jost. There is little vehicle traffic on the sand road along the waterfront, several bars and snack bars providing refreshments, plus a couple of gift shops. All the ingredients to satisfy children of all ages. After a lunch ashore I managed to misplace my wallet for a couple of hours, until it decided to reappear as a sort of Christmas present.

December 22, 2016

We made a leisurely take off this morning for a “downhill” run to Jost Van Dyke, dropping our mooring at 0910 hours and motoring through the gap in Colquhuon Reef before turning east, passing north of the “Dog” islands and the north coast of Tortola.

At 1153 hours we took up a mooring in Great Harbour, Jost Van Dyke at 18 26.6 N 064 45.1 W. Great Harbour is well protected and we were close enough to the beach that we could turn the grandkids loose in their kayaks.

That evening we ate at the famous Foxy’s restaurant, famous for it’s food and party atmosphere, although less well regarded for the swiftness of its service.

December 21, 2016

Today we rode the 9:00 a.m. resort shuttle back across the Sound to nearby Gun Creek, where we had arranged for a rental van. Our destination was the famous “Baths”, a series of huge boulders on the southwestern tip of the island. The boulders are resting upon each other and are scattered out into the sea, surrounded by white powder sand beaches and crystal clear water. This is a National Park and a popular tourist site. Today it was so popular, that after the grandkids had expended some of their energy in the sea and sand of the Baths”, we discovered that the route into the Caves had been converted to a “one-way” system requiring us to hike back uphill to the parking lot and then down an alternative trail to the south entrance of the Cave trail. The Cave trail is a tortuous route between the huge boulders with all sorts of side passages and opportunities to paddle or wade through the water. Perfect for grandkids to scramble and explore because even when they inevitably fall off the boulders, they are landing either in soft sand or shallow water.

We ate lunch at “Hog Heaven”, a barbeque restaurant perched high on Fanny Hill with spectacular views to the north and east and where daughter Helen had visited on her honeymoon in 2003.

We had received multiple recommendations for “Spring Bay”, a natural swimming hole adjacent to “The Baths”. Again we found huge boulders to climb and explore but without the crowds of “The Baths”. A delightful spot.

As the sun crept lower in the sky, we reluctantly gathered our crew for a fast drive back to dock at Gun Creek, where we abandoned our rental van with about four minutes to spare to catch the 5:30 p.m. shuttle back to the Bitter End Yacht Club. An excellent day.

December 20, 2016

Although we had stowed and lashed most of the loose gear the night before, it was still a rush in the morning to get eight souls ready for an early departure, some needing breakfast, some needing sea-sickness meds and some just more sleep. As it was, we did manage to set sail at 0745 hours, bound for Virgin Gorda Sound. It was with great relief that we discovered we had correctly forecast the current. We shot through The Narrows with minimal wave action and headed out into the St. Francis Drake Channel. An hour and a half later we had passed Road Town Harbour and the wind and waves now picked up considerably. We “tacked” over to the shelter of the south end of Virgin Gorda to avoid driving directly into the steepening waves and then, after rounding Mosquito Point with its spectacular rocks, foam and crashing waves, we passed through the shallow channel between Virgin Gorda and Mosquito Island, with the depth sounder showing 4 feet of water depth. Exciting! We draw three feet so we should have had a whole 12 inches of water beneath our keel. I carefully matched the GPS track we had made last year on the assumption that if we hadn’t run aground then.........

At 1047 hours we anchored at Gun Creek, Virgin Gorda at 18 28.453 N 064 22.943 W and dinghied over to Customs and Immigration to check in. We had taken the precaution of picking up the necessary forms from our visit at Soper’s Hole and I was able to present 8 passports together with the completed Immigration forms and the Customs form. The officer charged me one dollar for the proposed visit and I certainly didn’t argue. By 1155 hours we were moored at the Bitter End Yacht Club at 18 29.9 N 064 21.6 W and were heading for the beach bar to find lunch.

December 19, 2016

This morning I attached a pair of “beach wheels” to the dinghy. This would be their maiden voyage although I had attached their retaining bolts nearly six months ago. “Beach wheels” are a pair of wheels that bolt on to the stern of the dinghy and which you lower when coming up to a beach. They are intended to make the process of hauling the three hundred pounds or so of dinghy, up the sand slope of the beach and clear of the sucking waves, just a little easier. I had made the mistake of ordering the “quick release / removable” version of these wheels and discovered that the manufacturer required NASA level tolerances for their assembly but with the assistance of a hammer and a large crowbar, I was determined to make them fit. It was almost a success on the first attempt, except that the port wheel collapsed when the weight came on it. The dinghy was bodily lifted and this time the locking catch was properly engaged on the “drop down” undercarriage. Thus we made our first wheel assisted landing and tied the grounded dinghy to a tree, just in case we had badly misjudged the tide.

Next we waited for the “Safari Taxi” to take us into the island hub of Cruz Bay to visit National Park Center, gift shops and the all important microbrewery. The wait would normally have been intolerable for the more active amongst us but the discovery of fallen coconuts, noni trees, termite nests, lizards and crabs provided more than enough distraction.

This morning we had carefully examined the horizon by binoculars and it looked very choppy with steep, closely spaced, possibly breaking waves. We had also watched a couple of vessels in transit, pitching and rocking violently in The Narrows between St. John and Great Thatch Island, BVI. The chart shows 3 knots of tidal current through this pass and with winds of 25 knots or so against this current, it was no wonder the they were experiencing such a punishing ride. I checked the tide tables and saw that low tide on the morrow was at 0730 a.m. This should mean that we would have about an hour of slack water plus another hour of light current that in combination should put us well clear of the worst of the rough water.

December 18, 2016

The weather forecast remained grim for non-sailors but Wednesday’s forecast of easing of conditions did not look too different from today. One feature I had noticed last night was that the forecast wave direction for early morning was from north of northeast, rather than the typical easterly trade wind driven waves. We only need to make the first five miles upwind, perhaps sheltered by the landmass from the forecast wave direction and then the balance of the route to St. John’s would also be partly sheltered. We had already raised and lashed down the dinghy thus in the darkness of an overcast and rainy morning, we raised our anchor and eased carefully between the moored vessels, heading out to sea. As it was, the waves were less than expected and the transit of the normally rough Pillsbury Sound was a non-event. We arrived in Maho Bay and picked up a mooring at 0742 hours, position 18 21.6 N 064 44.8 W where Annette immediately began cooking breakfast for our sleepy guests.

I in turn launched four kayaks and hauled out the snorkel gear. That afternoon the forecast winds blew hard and we could see the whitecaps out in the Windward Passage but Maho Bay lay quietly in the shelter of “America Hill”, the verdant jungle slope rising almost directly from the beach.

December 17, 2016

The weather has been great all week with just the briefest of rain showers and balmy breezes. Because our guests arrive today, the rain too arrived, together with high winds. The forecast is for 25 to 30 knot winds with 8 to 12 foot waves offshore. This is also forecast to persist for the next three days - such perfect timing! I had been watching this scenario closely for the past few days and saw that early tomorrow morning might be a “not too bad” as opposed to a “really bad” time to subject non-sailors to passage conditions. We hurriedly raised and stowed the dinghy, set out fenders and lines and motored over to Crown Bay marina to top up our tanks with fresh water before returning to Long Bay and re-anchoring in the same spot. A final shopping run and we were done and could begin checking the fiction that is United Airlines flight reports. We knew that their flight was an hour late taking off when we made our way to the airport.

When we arrived at the airport, United was not showing an arrival flight on the screen behind the check-in counter. We asked the attendant for the estimated arrival time of the Houston flight and she folded the paper Annette proffered her without even glancing at it. She confidently informed us that the flight had been cancelled “due to weather”. “Well it took off”, I informed her. “It did?” she exclaimed. She would have looked surprised if there had been the slightest glimmer of intelligence behind those eyes, which then studied a half page printout for the next ten minutes. I wanted to snatch it out of her hands since I could have manufactured the paper and written the bloody contents myself in the interval. “Fifteen minutes”, she finally announced.

They are here! All kids, grandkids and luggage successfully retrieved and transported to DoodleBug, minus a pair of flip-flops that never made it out of the car in Houston plus a kid’s jacket that was probably left in the car at the St. Thomas end. We have the balance!

December 16, 2016

Our new generator had stopped a couple of times and last week, I had disconnected the exhaust temperature sensor at the telephone suggestion of the St. Thomas dealer’s mechanic. This had been a successful test. On Monday last I had called for a warranty service call to replace the faulty sensor and each day we had waited patiently for the mechanic to show up. “He will be there in twenty minutes”, “He is tied up but should be finished in an hour”, “He hurt his back and doesn’t want to ride a dinghy”. Since the promises were involving longer wait times, rather than shorter, yesterday I had made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. If they gave me the part, I would install it myself. At 0805 hours this morning we received a breathless call from Ashley, the “voice” at the other end of the phone, she would meet me at the dock in twenty minutes. At 0930 hours, I called to ask where she was and she was “still coming”, “half an hour at most”. At 1030 hours we made an firm appointment to meet on the land at 1100 hours. I stood in the sun and after ten minutes called her again. She was “leaving the office”. She did in fact show up at 1200 hours but I had been hanging for an hour in the sun and was further not impressed that she expected me to pay for the warranty part. If she had been a blind date I might have checked her into a drug rehab facility and then deleted her contact info.

Annette was not similarly tortured since she was buying groceries across the street and checking on me by phone, since she often chooses not burden herself with cash or credit cards.

December 15, 2016

We continue the marathon shopping effort in St. Thomas interspersed with some boat chores. Following the rebuild of the steering rams, we topped up the steering fluid in the hope that all air bubbles had finally been purged from the system. We also worked on a method to attach some navigation lights to our dinghy. It is SOP for dinghies to run around at night without any form of lighting but this is both illegal and dangerous. If the can catch you, the Coastie’s in Florida will bust you for doing this but enforcement in the islands is a little more casual. The problem from the cruiser’s viewpoint is threefold. First it is quite difficult to attach any form of device to an inflatable rubber tube and the versions that glue on, generally last several seconds before falling overboard. Second, if you go for the “all round white light”, it destroys your night vision so that you can’t see the mooring balls and unlit navigation markers, let alone the unlit vessels. Finally, a nice set of navigation lights are just crying out to be ripped off by thieving locals or skylarking kids.

Our latest attempt at navigation lights cost 13 bucks for the pair of red and green LED’s and came with a “lifetime warranty”. I didn’t bother to read the warranty card but would bet a six-pack that the warranty does not include “shipping and handling”. At 13 bucks, how can you go wrong? The lights are made from a sort of monolithic chunk of silicone rubber and I have no idea how you change the batteries but the $13 included a spare set of batteries! Today’s experiment was to buy some PVC fittings and glue them together to improve the mechanics of the light mounting method, rather than simply clipping them on the dinghy straps as we had tried earlier. The “new and improved” mounting method seems to work reasonably well but has added another $4 expense to our investment.

December 14, 2016

The wind has dropped a little overnight and we began the day with a dinghy run to Crown Bay Marina, a stopping off destination for mailing beach sand samples and for visiting Ace Hardware. The real reason for the visit was to rent a postal address at the “Mail Stop” facility for a month. Annette had purchased a heavily discounted and life sized plastic skeleton on the day after Halloween and daughter Marian had mailed it to us since we didn’t want to purchase another airline seat. Lunch at the marina restaurant was a typical island experience. After waiting 30 minutes in a near empty restaurant for a burger and fries, we just paid for our beers and left. Who knows what the problem was.

In the afternoon we rode the $2 per person “Safari Bus” “up-country” to “the big” K-Mart followed by a taxi ride home with our immense load of purchases. As we arrived at DoodleBug with our brimming dinghy, we were approached by another dinghy-load of sailors seeking clearance information. This was the crew of S/V Nepenthe, a 65 foot Bruce Roberts ketch that had just made a 10 day passage from Florida. We told them we had cold beer on board and after their wasted trip to Customs and Border Protection, this statement enticed the return of John, Tom and Kyle for a merry evening discussing sailing. Part of the floor show were the airborne antics of a large Manta ray that leapt from the water a couple of times just off our stern.

December 13, 2016

0935 hours and we dropped our mooring and headed west to Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas. It was already raining and the sky ahead promised more of the same. When we crossed the open waters of Pillsbury Sound, the the confused seas quickly built into 6 to 8 foot waves and we blessed the fact that most heavy objects were lashed down fairly securely. The shelter of Great St. James Island provided a respite from the violent motion and then we were again exposed to the wave action that had developed over the week-end we were hiding out in Maho Bay. To add to the entertainment, a large and dense rain-squall hit and Annette was dispatched below to close the doors and windows that were open to the wall of water coming from behind. I grabbed a rain-jacket which made little difference to how wet I had become but did keep the wind chill off. As we approached Packet Rock, a favorite scuba destination, I marveled at the antics of large catamaran that was cutting across our path and seemed to be attempting to become completely airborne. The deck was filled with people looking positively miserable and probably wishing they were safely back aboard their cruise ship.

At 1105 hours we dropped anchor in Long Bay at 18 20.3 N 064 55.6 W. This already felt like a hard day but we nevertheless launched our dinghy for an emergency beer and milk run, the first of many re-provisioning trips in anticipation of our guests.

December 12, 2016

The boat has been cleaned, the beds made, food lockers inventoried and repacked and we are just about ready for guests. Of course there is a quantity of “stuff” that is still un-stowed and I suggested to Annette that we simply smuggle it onto someone else’s boat during darkness. We still have five days before the kids and grandkids arrive and have already determined that they have outgrown last year’s lifejackets. Another round of shopping needed!

After lunch we fired up the Hookah dive compressor and I cleaned the propellers with some steel wool while Annette chased Jack and Jill around with her waterproof camera. Since remoras usually attach themselves to large sharks, I am wondering where their regular hosts are.

December 11, 2016

A beautiful quiet morning as we awoke in Maho Bay with the sound of waves lapping along the shore and the calls of a handful of sea-birds. This is a sheltered spot and we had determined to hang here for a couple of days whilst the forecast “blow” expended itself. I had also determined that today I would make a serious attempt to remove at least one of the dead solar panels from the flybridge roof. Since the wind was gusting, I lashed my step-ladder to the flybridge roof support so that it might still be there when I attempted to descend and clutching a variety of tools, wasted the next couple of hours with this task. I had always been a little worried that these panels could blow away in a storm. Not a chance! They had been glued on with silicone sealant and each corner additionally held with a screw. The screws were the easy part. I used a sharp knife to try to ease the tiniest separation between panel and roof and then tried both a cheesecutter (see assassination scene of Luca Brasi in “The Godfather”) as well as a small spatula. If I had no concern about damaging the solar panel this would be relatively straightforward job but I was trying to achieve the result of having both the fiberglass roof and the solar panel intact. I gave up. I need a different tool or abandon the idea of saving the panel.

We snorkeled during the afternoon and upon plunging into the water, couldn’t fail to notice a pair of remoras in the four foot long range, who have taken up residence below DoodleBug. They seemed curious about us, unafraid and seemed to lack large and sharp teeth. That evening Annette barbequed steaks and threw overboard the remains of some steak she didn’t want. The water boiled as “Jack and Jill”, our remoras, instantly devoured every morsel. What a great dinner show! Next went some bread and it was equally appreciated. We were now scrounging around to see what else they might eat when Annette found some tortillas. She offered a piece of the tortilla in her hand and it too was snatched away. The remoras seem to have tiny rough teeth, like a cat’s tongue on steroids. At least this is what Annette reported since Ed’s mommy didn’t raise a stupid baby.

December 4 - December 10, 2016

We continued to work on our various projects in a leisurely fashion. Annette has mailed postcards to a Houston first-grader to assist her “gingerbread man” geography project (an inevitable inherited liability when one has a teacher as a daughter) and has been researching on how to collect sand from below a vessel at anchor without resorting to dive apparatus. She has been experimenting with buckets, tin cans with fishing weights and has received a plethora of advice e-mailed from top sand experts from around the globe. She already has an article reviewing her microscope purchase, published in the “Sand Paper”, a quarterly publication of the International Sand Collectors Society and the editor has suggested that her submarine sand collection activities might form the basis of another article.

I am still drilling down into my solar panel issue and will attempt to repair the existing panels. I have now decided that the failure in my panels is at their “junction box”. This is the bit where a pair of wires attaches to the flat composite of silicon solar cells. Unfortunately, to gain access to the “junction box”, I have to get underneath it. Three panels are still working and three are dead and all six are “glued” to the flybridge roof. I need to positively identify a couple of “bad” panels to see if I can remove them without major damage - all of this without messing up the pair that are still producing electricity. Since I can’t directly access the panel output to determine the zero output panels, I will perform a negative by identifying the “live” panels. As Admiral Josh Painter famously quoted, “Russians don't take a dump, son, without a plan. And senior captains don't start something this dangerous without having thought the matter through.” For me this meant that a sequence of steps, definitively locating a couple of dead panels before attempting to remove them from the roof, followed by a dissection autopsy to see if I can determine the cause of death. For my plan I needed black trash bags and masking tape. The latter I had but raiding Annette’s supplies produced only white trash bags – project deferred!

I have also been addressing the installation of “stuff” I purchased months ago in the USA. One issue to be resolved is that the “Autopilot” doesn’t communicate with the “Chartplotter / GPS” system. It might have once but digging into the wiring on this boat leads to the discovery of multiple abandoned and orphaned cables. I had laid out a block wiring diagram a year ago when we first purchased the boat and were adding the radar, AIS and Autopilot remote systems and we just lacked one more connection from a first generation “Raymarine” device to a third generation connector. This was amazingly complicated and required that I build a third generation data bus, power it and then add two spur cables with the appropriate flavor of connector. At the level I was currently working however, I needed two blocks of plywood and some epoxy glue. While Annette filled the boat with the delicious smells of freshly baked cakes, I filled the boat with the stench of chemicals as I mounted my plywood blocks into position beneath the flybridge console.

On Tuesday morning we raised anchor and at 0923 hours set course for Soper’s Hole on the island of Tortola, British Virgin Islands. It was a clear sunny day and a pleasant sail through the islands. At 1104 hours we picked up a mooring just across from the Customs and Immigration shed and dinghied ashore to check in. In the past we have preferred to check in at the nearby port of entry, Jost Van Dyke because the officials there are so laid back and friendly. Today we got the “full bureaucrat with an attitude” treatment. When the Immigration guy complained about the quality of my handwriting I said, “That is arthritis and at my age, it ain’t going to get any better. Thank God for keyboards and spell checkers”. He relapsed into silence. The Customs “lady” slowly ate her sandwich in front of the dozen or so sailors who were waiting for clearance, sighed, scrupulously examined my paperwork and then demanded that I change the entry for my place of birth from “UK” to “United Kingdom”. And so on....

At 1310 hours we dropped our mooring and motored east along the coast of Tortola to our destination of Nanny Cay Marina where we tied up at 1410 hours at 18 23.8 N 064 38.2 W.

Wednesday morning and while we waited for the mechanic to arrive to service the hydraulic rams of our steering system, both of which were leaking fluid, I installed the Raymarine “bus” onto its plywood block and similarly added a power distribution block. When I threw the breaker, the Chartplotter recognized the autopilot, the AIS targets showed up on the radar display and all was well in the world! A small victory but it means that we can now set a “track” and the autopilot will guide the vessel along a programmed course, automatically correcting for course errors caused by currents or wind.

The hydraulic expert arrived, removed the steering rams and reappeared an hour later to reinstall them. Then began the tedious process of trying to bleed the air out of the system. This involved having a bottle of oil at the flybridge console, connected by a plastic tube to the steering pump and inverted as though to supply a “drip feed”. It isn’t intended to be a drip feed but the fools who designed this system neglected to include an oil reservoir. The bleeding process then involves turning the steering wheel from lock to lock, pausing to allow air bubbles to escape to the drip bottle.

I serviced the generator, which just meant changing the oil and filter. A busy day with much accomplished. The following day, Thursday, the steering system was still burping air bubbles but in addition, was showing another disturbing symptom. As the steering was worked from lock to lock, the rudders gradually diverged from their initial parallel position until the steering was near frozen. The hydraulic expert reappeared, bled the two rams and disappeared again. We spent most of Thursday washing the boat and turning the wheel on the steering to little useful effect.

Friday morning our deadline was that if the steering wasn’t working correctly by 0900 hours, we would extend our stay a day. 0900 hours came and went but by this time we had used the emergency steering tiller, to prove that the port ram was leaking oil past the cylinder piston seals and reported this intelligence to the repair company by e-mail and phone message. By mid-afternoon our mechanic showed up, removed the offending cylinder and disappeared to his workshop, together with my spare set of seals. He returned shortly thereafter and reported that the offending piston seal had been “nicked”. The restored steering ram was then bled for air and immediately began working as designed. What a relief! The prospect of entertaining guests with a partially working steering system was not an attractive one.

While at the marina, we have enjoyed touching base with friends from multiple boats we had previously met in locations scattered across the Caribbean. We were trashed by three days of boat work and more than ready to meet everyone that evening at the nearby Mulligan’s bar / restaurant.

Saturday morning it was bucketing with rain but we did our last “air bleed” of the hydraulic steering system, rigged for sea and paid our marina bill. We eased gently out of our slip at 0915 hours and maneuvered around the other vessels at the dock without hitting any, before heading over to Soper’s Hole for the Customs and Immigration checkout. The officials there were more polite than last time and the ethnically, gender and gravitationally challenged Immigration official, actually apologized for failing to see me standing three feet in front of her for ten minutes or so, whilst wearing a neon green tee-shirt.

At 1115 hours we dropped our mooring and set course for Cruz Bay on the island of St. Johns, anchoring just off the channel at 1148 hours. The check in with USA Customs and Border Protection was painless and after hitting the grocery store, we again set off at 1300 hours bound for Maho Bay. At 1337 hours we had picked up a mooring at 18 21.6 N 064 44.8 W. What a beautiful place! We will hang here for a couple of days until a forecast blow has passed us by.

November 29 - December 3, 2016

Our first week in St. Thomas began of course with a check in with the US government! I had logged into their site to retrieve my float plan number since when I had filed the latter in St. Martin, I had been sitting at a noisy curbside bar trading beer for internet. When I arrived at “my float plan” page, there had been a message to the extent that all previously filed plans had now “expired”. OK then, I would just wait until after 0800 hours and call the Customs and Border Protection. “What is your float plan number?” the officer asked. I explained that it had disappeared from their website and offered my Federal boater ID. “No, you have to come in to our office and fill out the paperwork.” Another successful government internet program; no on-line check-in but the good news is, I probably obtained an Obamacare “Platinum plan” valid in North Dakota.

Annette has inventoried her groceries and supplies and together we have made several pilgrimages to various grocery and hardware stores and have begun filling up the the food storage lockers. I in turn have been attacking a series of mechanical issues such as relocating the dinghy fuel can into the dinghy bow locker (a non-trivial operation!) plus drilling down into our solar charging problems. Anyone who believes that solar power is the future of humanity, could use a little education here. Fortunately we have our new, beautiful diesel generator that we had hoped to use only occasionally for back-up but is now our primary source of power. With luck and some work, we will relegate it back to its former status.

On other fronts, daughter Marian (aka Claire) is doing a photography show (www.thesteeleshutter.com) in Corpus Christi and we had our ninth showing of the house we are trying to sell in Santa Fe (http://www.santafeproperties.com/listing/201601524-66-three-rock-road-santa-fe-new-mexico-87506/). The last set of prospective buyers want to know who maintains the access road – possibly a good sign!

We will likely slip across the waters next week to Nanny Cay in the British Virgin Islands, to get some hydraulic servicing work done on our steering system. Would be nice to have the boat go where you point it.

The kids and grand-kids arrive in two weeks time and the excitement is building!

November 28, 2016

0400 hours we were ready to sail. Two mugs of coffee / tea imbibed, the anchor bridle removed and stowed, radar, VHF radio, AIS, chartplotter fired up. The navigation was entered and the navigation and steaming lights turned on. Annette had taken her anti-nausea medication and we were both wearing life jackets with automatic strobe lights in the hopefully unlikely event we went overboard in darkness. I started the port engine and checked the coolant water flow from the exhaust. Annette stood ready at the bow to raise the anchor. The starboard engine would not start. Chrymixphthwzz!**#!! The battery voltage dropped to less than 10 volts when I hit the starter and you could hear the start solenoid “buzzing”.

We fired up the generator and tried to charge the battery but nothing doing. It would show a full charge but crash as soon as it was under load. We shut down the radar, instruments and the like; Turned the navigation lights off and the anchor light back on. Let out another 30 feet of anchor chain and then tried to nap for a couple of hours.

At 0700 hours I gave up the attempt to nap, unlashed the dinghy, launched it, connected up the fuel tank and tested the outboard to see if it would run. By 0800 hours I was at Budget Marine (French side) to buy an new battery. The major excitement of the early morning dinghy run was when a squid “flew” across the dinghy, missing me by inches. It was about 8 inches long and had stretched out some short, stubby and near translucent “wings”. Two large dark patches were on the anterior surface and I supposed these to be eyes. I don’t think that I have ever seen their flight before although we have collected their dried out little bodies from the deck during long passages.

Fifty minutes after eight, the new battery had been installed, charged up a little more by the generator, the dinghy re-hoisted, re-lashed and stowed. The boat again made ready for sea and .... the starboard engine started instantly. At 0850 hours we raised anchor and set sail for Charlotte Amelie, St. Thomas, a distance of 105 nautical miles. We were now nearly five hours behind our planned departure and would arrive in darkness.

By noon we were still motoring along at near 10 knots running the engines at 2,200 RPM, about 25% faster than we would typically run but the waves were from the rear quarter and I was hoping that we would both make up some passage time and perhaps the boat would steer a little better than the zig-zag path she seems to prefer in a following sea. The problem is that the water at the crest of the wave is travelling faster than the boat, as if the boat was going in reverse. This means that the rudder is pointing the opposite direction to the water motion and the autopilot detects the “slew” and makes the matter worse by turning the rudder in the wrong direction for the actual water flow. At the trough of the wave, the water slows down, the boat is going faster because it has just run “down hill” and so it overcorrects the “slew” by a violent turn in the opposite direction. When it is just about back on course the process repeats. To make the voyage more tolerable, I set the autopilot to its slowest response setting, sort of like having a helmsman who is stoned. The rain continued to pour down from an overcast sky but with light winds from astern, it was mainly vertical rain rather than a horizontal fire-hose and we could stay moderately dry.

As we approached the mid-afternoon, the wind began to build creating whitecaps and the seas correspondingly built into the four to six foot range. There were still rain pods all around us but also hints of blue sky ahead. We saw very little shipping although we were visited by a largish pod of dolphins and by now we could see Virgin Gorda, and Norman Island to starboard, with just the tips of the mountains of St. Croix to port. Annette had her USA cell phone on and announced that she had a signal when we were about 15 miles off St. Johns in the US Virgin Islands.

2030 hours and we eased slowly into Long Bay, Charlotte Amelie, St. Thomas and anchored in the middle of a group of sailing vessels, aided to no small degree by the street lighting of the waterfront. Our position is 18 20.3 N 064 55.8 W. We are here!

November 27, 2016

Sunday is typically a slow day in the Caribbean when half the island is just getting to bed and the other half are off to church. We checked the engine fluid levels and the like for departure tomorrow and headed ashore to use the internet. The primary need for internet was to use the US government Small Vessel Reporting System (SVRS) in order to “file” our float plan for Monday. This is alleged to obviate the necessity to make the arrival pilgrimage to the office of Customs and Border Protection, or whichever flavor of alphabet soup is currently extant. The government website was obviously written by the same clowns who “built” the world renowned Obamacare website. A clue as to how it was going to perform was when it required your “type” of departure point. It could be a boat ramp, a marina or a residence but there was no option for a bay or an anchorage. Then they needed the zip code, just in case they needed to mail us a change of address post-card I suppose. When we had filled it all out, we hit the exit button and instead of a pop-up window saying something like, “great job, your confirmation number is XXXX; please write this number down since you will need this when you report in upon arrival” , you get a warning stating that if you continue now, you will lose everything you have just put in. I tediously filled out this crap but somehow managed to file two float plans for the same trip.

We ate our final French breakfast (Annette had the lobster crepe), mailed some postcards and collected some more Euros from the ATM to fund our proposed Cuba trip next year. (Dinner and drinks with Fidel has been cancelled for some reason or other). We are all set, dinghy hoisted and lashed down and all aboard primed for an 0400 hours departure.

November 26, 2016

Saturday and there were several Cruise ships visiting Sint Maarten. We joined Patrick and Alicia in riding the bus from Marigot Bay to Philipsburg on the Dutch side of the island. This is “tourist central” and there were dozens of booths selling tee-shirts, souvenirs and the like and a boggling number of stores selling jewelry, watches, high end clothing, shoes and handbags. Do people really take a cruise ship to buy a watch or a diamond necklace? Do people even wear watches anymore? There were touts pushing boat rides, deck chair rentals (two chairs, a bucket of beer, towels, free shower and wi-fi for just $20!!), casino specials and so on. There were also shoulder to shoulder bars and restaurants lining the beach and we enjoyed a leisurely perambulation through this chaos, window shopping and bar hopping. A very pleasant diversion.

November 25, 2016

An early morning visit to Budget Marine (Dutch side) produced the expected results. While we waited and only after I provided them with the listed telephone number I had obtained from the internet as the main contact number for the solar panel supplier ApolloFLEX, they placed a call to the company in Germany. There was no answer. Since the manufacturer is unresponsive, we therefore have no warranty and are screwed. This took ten days, four e-mails, three satellite phone calls and four store visits to determine. The Budget Marine manager insisted that they have no technical support and their customer responsibility is strictly limited to passing through to us any warranty support provided by the product manufacturer. However, he did offer me a discount if I buy additional replacement panels from them.

We stopped in at the Budget Marine store on the French side of the island and checked out for a Monday departure. The forecast is for high winds for this afternoon and tomorrow and then light winds on Sunday and Monday.

Annette was now on a mission and we trekked over to the super-market to buy groceries for a dinner party. She couldn’t find what she wanted in the display cabinets and requested a conference with the butcher. The young French butcher didn’t seem the least insulted while she showed him where she wanted the pork cuts to come from by indicating the area on his back. It certainly worked because the tenderloins she barbequed that evening were memorable. I am pretty sure it was pork.

November 24, 2016

We ate breakfast ashore so that we might access the internet at a waterside café and then determined that to ride the local ferry to nearby Anguilla, transiting the 4 mile body of water that separates the two islands, would set us back US$106, about what Southwest would charge to fly us from Houston to Dallas. We had stopped in Anguilla in 2009 and Annette decided that a couple of hundred bucks for a return to collect a sand sample was just a bit too rich.

Right after noon, we called Budget Marine (Dutch side) to find out what they had determined regarding our solar panel issue. The phone extension I had been provided rang without being answered. Back to the operator and the lady informed me that the man I had made an appointment with for my 12 o’clock call does not work today. OK then, the back-up man was Errol. No, he doesn’t work today either. I asked for some help on the warranty claim status and the lady went back to Tuesday’s story, they were waiting for the likely bankrupt, UK dealer to contact them. I asked for the manager. He doesn’t work until tomorrow. Tomorrow then.

Back aboard DoodleBug we put on our snorkel gear and cooled off with a swim from the stern. I checked the rudders, props and anodes and Annette dove for sand on the seabed below us. We were now both wet and there was a beach near the canal that cuts through from Marigot Bay to Simpson Bay and which we had already determined was inaccessible from the land as it was fronted with private residences. We drove the dinghy near the beach, tied it off on an ancient mooring and then Annette snorkeled to the land whilst I monitored our dinghy position close by a lee shore. Success! She now has two sand samples!

The forecast still looks good for a Monday departure bound for St. Thomas, the major unknown being whether we can get any warranty support from Budget.

November 23, 2016

Annette tackled the Herculean task of reorganizing the kitchen lockers and I went back to my repair list. When we had returned to DoodleBug in Grenada, the obvious problem with the boat was the failure of the solar panel charging system but another minor problem was that the freezer would not function. When it was turned on, it would operate for a few seconds and then the circuit breaker would “pop”. This means that either the breaker is faulty, or the compressor for the freezer is drawing too much power. Yesterday I had removed the groceries from the locker above the freezer and determined that the freezer control was not showing diagnostic warning lights. Today I decided I would try swapping out the circuit breaker. I had also looked up the installation instructions for the unit and noticed that the manufacturer specified a 15 ampere breaker instead of the 10 ampere unit installed and for the first time ever, the nearest marine supply store actually had a 15 amp breaker in stock. We purchased same and shot back to DoodleBug to install it. We then threw the switch of the “new” breaker and waited. The freezer light came on and stayed on. Ten minutes later, the remote thermometer in the freezer showed a temperature drop of two degrees. We have freezer capacity! Now I won’t have to trek upstairs to the flybridge to get ice for Annette’s beer (don’t ask!) .

Lunch, ATM machine, grocery store – the usual round. We get an internet connection at the lunch stop and this allows a quick check of e-mails plus a scan of the headlines. The media are still howling over the election results and we basked in the glow of their misery. Back to Budget Marine to check on the status of our warranty claim. The lady we had dealt with yesterday was somewhat snotty and said, “Weren’t you here yesterday? I already told you “she” (whoever she is was not defined) has tried to contact the supplier.” “Exactly”, I responded, “that is why I am here today, to see if there has been a change of status.””There has been no answer”, she insisted. “So that’s it then, you are done? I am out three grand?” By this time the temperature in the store had risen, we had three employees involved and I assured them after driving a boat for 43 hours from Grenada, just to visit their store, I was not going to wait around both patiently and indefinitely. Thirty minutes later we agreed that if Budget had not successfully contacted their solar panel supplier by noon tomorrow (Thursday, US Thanksgiving – BTW, not a French holiday), then Budget would service the warranty claim themselves - whatever that means.

The wind has picked up in this part of the Caribbean and the waters of Marigot Bay are decidedly more choppy. It was a bouncy ride back to DoodleBug but the forecast shows lighter winds after the week-end and we will likely run to St. Thomas on Monday.

November 22, 2016

Laundry and chores day! While Annette ploughed through our accumulated laundry I ran down my chores list. I had brought from the USA enough LED bulbs that I was able to switch all of the overhead lights from halogen to LED bulbs, a marked improvement in light output and far more efficient of power. I “installed” the new “Stars and Stripes” on our stern in readiness for Thanksgiving. The old tattered banner was both faded and shredded and we couldn’t tolerate a French flag on the bow in better condition than the American flag flying from our stern. No turkey dinners out here bro’!

We dinghied ashore to get an excellent lunch and then headed over to “Dutch side” Budget Marine to check on the status of out warranty claim on the solar panels. The sales reps we spoke with claimed that they could not obtain a response from the UK vendor either by phone or by e-mail. Not good. We will allow them another day before ratcheting up the pressure.

At 1600 hours we headed over to S/V Xenia II, for sundowners with Patrick and Alison from Victoria. An enjoyable visit.

November 21, 2016 ......later

I can’t believe that we were up and about at 0830 hours! It simply isn’t realistic to drink celebratory arrival beer and then expect your bladder to allow dreamless sleep!

We launched our dinghy and headed ashore to get breakfast (cheese and ham crepes with that wonderful French bread!) and make a quick check of the internet. No response to our warranty question from the solar panel vendor, even after I had stated I will be on their premises this morning. We motored over to Budget Marine, St. Martin to use their computer to check into French Customs and Immigration. The only challenge here is that the keyboard is not a QWERTY keyboard and the names are all in French. “Etats” is relatively easy to remember for the United States but I always misspell “Isles” instead of “Iles” – the French spelling. Anyway, when you have filled out their on-line form and printed it, a store employee checks your passport numbers and the boat registration for accuracy, then stamps your self generated inbound clearance. That’s it! We are legally here, no snarling or dour government employees involved! No TSA goons dropping knuckle hairs all over the boat, as they drool and grunt whilst dragging their specially designed government black rubber boots leaving a generous trail on our white fiberglass decks...... but I digress. Our next port of call was Budget Marine on the Dutch half of the island, where we had purchased our solar panels some 14 months ago.

This experience was better than expected in that after apologizing for not answering my e-mail, a sales rep looked up the receipt from our original purchase, printed a copy for me and promised to file a warranty claim with the manufacturer this very day. Now we must wait to hear the response.

The other exciting task for the afternoon was to change the oil in the generator. According to the manufacturer, the engine was shipped with “special break in oil” and this needed to be exchanged for 30 weight oil after the first 50 hours of operation. First I needed to buy some “straight” 30 weight oil as it is not a common item. Several stores later I had a couple of gallons and was ready for the next task, to install an oil drain hose on the unit; relatively straightforward to do since we had brought the parts with us in our suitcases. This is the first time I have changed oil on this particular engine and the procedure is always a learning process, to avoid making a total mess with dirty oil and the like. By the time it was all done and cleaned up, I was through for the day and ready for a good night’s sleep. A busy day but useful.

November 21, 2016

We altered course to pass between the anchored shipping and the northbound vessels and then turned slightly to aim at the west end of St. Martin, whose lights lay ahead of us, with the lights of Saba (former home of Hiram Beakes – Annette’s favorite pirate) passing by on the port side. Just after 0330 hours we began a sweep around Pointe du Cannonier and entered Marigot Bay using the radar to find a gap in the anchored vessels, most of which were unlit. We dropped anchor at 0407 hours at 18 04.2 N 063 05.7 W. We are here! St. Martin!

November 20, 2016

Our first night at sea and a half moon rose above the horizon, dodging the few clouds that had been lurking. We could now see that the seas were still in the 3 foot range, although the motion of DoodleBug as she motored on, told us that. A beautiful dawn and the sun rose to the east, blotting out the stars.

We could now see Guadaloupe to starboard, as a grey shadow 50 miles away on the horizon. At 0910 hours our position was 15 37.8 N 062 22.3 W. We had run 197 miles in the past 24 hours, with the engines at half throttle. Around 1100 hours a small powerboat crossed our bow and the chart showed the island of Aves, claimed by Dominica, some 60 miles to the west, although the boat in question seemed to be continuing on to Guadaloupe.

By early afternoon we were off Montserrat with near clear sunny skies and waves in the 2 foot range. Although we were just 30 miles to the west of the volcano, we saw no evidence of activity and the wind continued to drop, producing a glassy swell.

1640 hours there was a bang, followed by shuddering of the hull. The port engine dropped slightly in RPM and the shuddering stopped when we moved the transmission to neutral. Now what? Had we picked up another rope? We checked the engine compartment and saw a slowly rotating prop shaft and everything else as normal. I tried reverse on the engine and then forwards. The vibration disappeared and we were off again! Whatever we had caught had either spun off, or had made some accommodation with the drive train.

By sunset, we were passing within 20 miles of Nevis with the lights of St. Kitts just off the starboard bow.

2110 hours put us at 17 12.5 N 062 54.4 W, 296 miles run in 36 hours as we headed into our second night at sea. From Grenada north, the islands swing in a long arc and we had cut across the chord of this arc, in a direct course that had taken us out into open waters and along the path less travelled. We were now keeping a more careful watch for local fisherman, as we approached the shallower coastal waters of the island chain. As it was, there was no shipping of any kind until we were passing close by Sint Eustatius. This Dutch owned island boasts a fuel transfer / storage facility and six tankers were in the process of discharging cargo, taking on cargo or whatever, all brightly lit up like refineries at night. A cruise ship, “The Freedom of the Seas” passed close by, as did an unknown cargo ship.

November 19, 2016

This morning we drifted carefully into the fuel dock and tied up, just as the dockmaster approached. We have a 300 gallon tank capacity and we took on 110 gallons of diesel to bring us up to full. We also took on some additional drinking water but the flow rate from the hose was like watching ice melt. At 0912 hours we were paid up and done and we set out for a 360 mile run to Marigot Bay, St. Martin with 4/8 ths. cloud cover and light rain showers. As we cleared land the showers decreased, the clouds dispersed and the wind and waves were just on the beam with waves in the 4 foot range producing an uncomfortable and jerky side to side motion. We were running just about due magnetic north and as forecast the winds began to lighten slightly towards the afternoon with the seas dropped to the 3 foot range. In late afternoon we were visited by a pod of dolphins, presumably hunting the flying fish we were scattering ahead of our motion. Boobies cruised by us expectantly but I never saw them actually catch anything. A large turtle watched us pass; of shipping, the seas were empty. We passed by a shadowy St. Vincent to the east but St. Lucia was too far off to see. No other sails or vessels until late evening when we altered course to avoid a small craft directly in our path. It appeared on radar at 12 miles but showed a single dim light, visible only when we were within 3 miles.

At 2110 hours our position was 14 02.2 N 061 57.2’ W and we had run 99 miles in 12 hours.

November 18, 2016

Annette wanted sand samples (surprise!) and the nearby beach looked challenging for a dinghy landing. We therefore launched our kayaks as they are much easier to handle in rough surf. You ride a wave into the beach to land, holding the kayak as straight as possible and when the wave recedes, you jump out and run up the beach dragging your vessel before the next wave hits. To depart, we simply sit in the kayak and wait for a big enough wave to float us, then paddle like hell!

Although the beach looked light colored coral sand, the color was but a few grains thick, laying on top of black basalt sand. The cliff behind was columnar basalt with as yet unidentified white cement between the cracks and interstices. All sorts of interesting flotsam but not too many unbroken sea shells. We next paddled to second larger beach but it was more of the same. We met a fellow sailor walking the strand and he had explored inland from the beach but found no way to breach the steep hillside. We mentioned a hanging rope in a chimney formed in the cliffs on our first beach although he seemed unenthused with the prospect.

At 1227 hours we raised anchor and set sail for Tyrell Bay, Carriacou and after experiencing a rough beginning to the passage as we cleared the lee of Ronde, conditions then became calmer and we anchored in Tyrell Bay at 1349 hours at 12 27.351 N 061 29.264 W.

That afternoon we dinghied ashore and checked out of Customs and Immigration for a 0900 hours departure on Saturday morning. At the same time we scouted the fuel dock, determined that it opened at 0800 hours and obtained a permit to buy duty free fuel. The quoted price was US$2.47 / gallon versus US$5 in Grenada. In the Customs office there was a poster detailing the permitted season to hunt and take sea turtles and Annette asked if she could take a picture of the poster. The Customs official indicated that it was permitted but demanded the reason for Annette’s interest. Annette said she had never seen a sign before giving a turtle season. “Well we don’t drop bombs on people”, the official retorted. OK, then.

Tomorrow will begin a two day passage to St. Martin.

November 17, 2016

At 0800 hours we dropped our mooring in Prickly Bay and set sail for Dragon Bay, Grenada to pick up a mooring at 12 04.766 N 061 45.680 W, next to the Underwater Sculpture Park in the adjacent Flamingo Bay. We are really not quite in the sailing groove because although I have sworn in the past that we will NEVER tow a dinghy, we towed our dinghy from Prickly Bay to Dragon Bay. The departure from Prickly Bay was professional enough, we “shortened” the tow lines so that they could not possibly be sucked into the props and let them out again as we motored away. Unfortunately we did not perform the inverse of this procedure as we attempted to pick up a mooring again. Annette waved at me from the bow that I needed to “go right” and I hit reverse on the starboard engine. The terrible screeching sound that followed signaled that we had forgotten to shorten the tow lines and further, the starboard drive was out of action. We drifted with the wind and I could see that we might pass over the next mooring buoy in line, if I played a bit with the port engine. Annette hung way over the bow like a pro and caught the mooring tether as it passed. The boat hadn’t quite stopped moving however and the momentum of 17 tons of boat was catching up to Annette and her boat hook. I arrived to add my more substantial mass to hers and we just held it and tied on. OK then, we weren’t moving now but we still had a line around the prop.

We were here to snorkel anyway and our snorkel gear was all laid out ready, thus I was in the water with a dive knife in short order. The tow lines were heavily wrapped and the prop solidly immobile. Pulling on the lines did virtually nothing and neither “end” would unwrap. It needed to be cut. I began cutting but this is hard to do whilst holding your breath. The next option was to send Annette to find the “Spare Air” emergency scuba rescue system. This is somewhat bigger than the one James Bond used in the movie “Thunderball” but the principal is still the same. You just put it in your mouth and breath underwater. The catch is that you can only do this for a couple of minutes. I needed to test the device anyway and sure enough, I could breath underwater as I hacked away at the lines jamming the prop. Three or four minutes later I was making progress, when it became hard to breathe. I was out of “Spare Air”. This time I surfaced and we hauled out the “Hookah” diving system. The compressor engine fuel tank had gas in it and it fired off on first pull. By now I was wearing a weight belt and was connected to the air compressor by a 50 foot hose. The salvage job became a much easier proposition with an unlimited air supply – at least until the compressor engine ran out of fuel. I hacked and cut away at lines and finally the prop was clear and turned easily.

Annette changed into her snorkel gear and we dinghied around the point into the next bay where the guide book promised us “a hundred” underwater sculptures. The recommendation was to tie up to a red “dive” mooring and swim from there to the beach. This we did and although we swam up to the beach, saw nothing but fish and corals. Were we really in the correct spot? We re-boarded our dinghy (with some difficulty since we had forgotten to take our “boarding” ladder) and motored over to a passing fisherman. He stared at us blankly when we asked where the sculptures lay. A large tourist catamaran was also closing our position and we shot over to motor alongside and ask for directions. “We going there in a while, man”, was the response. Did that mean “now”, we wondered. Apparently it did and we tied up again to another red mooring ball but further north of our original choice. This time we found the sculptures and they were an amazing sight, although many had been knocked down by storms and lay prone. To add to the wonder of the silent figures, most standing in 30 plus feet of water on the sea-bed, there were giant shoals of small fish that swirled around us, sometimes so thickly we lost sight of the sculptures below. Tuna and barracuda were hanging around this potential feast looking for stragglers. There were also lots of jelly-fish and although these were not the lethal varieties of the Australian seas, we were feeling enough small stings that we decided to call it a day and remember to wear our “stinger” suits on the next snorkel adventure.

At 1230 hours we were back aboard DoodleBug with the dinghy hoisted on the davits, setting off for our next destination of Halifax Harbor. This was a rather challenging anchorage, indicated on the on-line cruising guide as having two set of overhead power lines (well above our fly-bridge as it turned out) and located next to the island dump, providing smoke from the burning trash as well as the attendant flies. Again fortune smiled upon us, the smoke was being blown the other direction and the flies never found us. We anchored at 12 06.595 N 061 44.825 W alongside the rusting hulk of a wrecked work-boat. This lay close by the wrecked hull of a sailboat, casualties of some forgotten storm.

With DoodleBug firmly anchored, we launched our dinghy and motored about a mile north to an isolated beach, accessible only from the sea and called appropriately “Black Bay”. The black sand beach was steep and if the swells had been any larger, would have been a formidable place to land. As it was we were able to beach the dinghy and drag it up the beach a little. I held the dinghy in the surf while Annette rapidly grabbed a sample of sand and searched a nearby rock outcropping for a suitable selection of pebbles. A successful launch and we paddled our dinghy into deep water before firing up the outboard and scooting back to DoodleBug.

1353 hours and we were again at sea, bound for the island of Ronde, that lies about two miles east of the active submarine volcano, “Kick ‘em Jenny”. We were headed for “Corn Store Bay” at the north west end of Ronde and we passed between the main island and the outcroppings of “The Sisters” to our west. These stark igneous rocks form the eastern edge of an ancient caldera and we anchored inside it, off a sand beach at 12 18.762 N 061 35.261 W, dropping our hook at 1556 hours.

We had the beach and anchorage to ourselves and watched the Boobies fishing off the shore while puffer fish swam up and peered curiously up at us. The sand beach lay in a curve around the bay, backed by a low cliff, 20 or 30 feet tall and then jungle vegetation. The cliff rocks were stained white with bird droppings and we could hear the excited pipings of the various colonies as dusk approached. Grenada now lay south of us with brooding clouds and rain pods moving west with the trade winds. The barbeque came out of its locker for the first time this season and we ate the best meal we have had since arriving in Grenada, garnished by the added bonus of unforgettable ambiance.

November 16, 2016

Another busy day but we managed to get the essentials completed. First we needed to return to Clarke’s Court marina to retrieve the spare set of boat keys we had failed to pick up before yesterday’s launch. We bummed a ride on “Shademan’s” shuttle that was picking wannabe shopper’s up from the various marinas and transporting them to the marine supply store. Next we hit the grocery store and bank and made it back to Prickly Bay in time to pick up Annette’s order of baguettes from the French baker plus my order of four cases of Carib beer from “Fast Manicou’s ” delivery service. We now have the rudiments for maritime existence. French bread and beer! Does it get any better? We sail on the morrow!

November 15, 2016

By the promised launch time of 8:00 a.m. we had four lines ready, fore and aft, the power umbilicals had been disconnected and stowed and we were ready to roll. A workman came by and told us that we were indeed to be lifted at 8:00 a. m. Thirty minutes later a man with a clipboard came by and said they had a technical issue with their tractor. I suggested adding diesel to the tank and turning the key but he assured me that this was not the issue, he insisted it was already running. Around 9:15 a.m. the tractor showed up and began backing its lift trailer underneath DoodleBug. Annette and I had just about given up, we had already drunk the last two beers aboard and and had rooted around the food lockers for something edible. We now decamped from the boat, continuing our impromptu picnic at the yet to be completed marina restaurant and when we looked up, we saw DoodleBug was already at the launch dock. The workmen indicated that we needed to board, which we did and the tractor pushed us down a boat ramp and into the water like a giant dinghy. The engines fired up immediately and after a quick inspection of the bilges to make sure that we weren’t sinking, we cast off the lines and backed out into Woburn Bay.

It was 10:00 a. m. and we were underway! A brief voyage around the coast as we monitored instruments and the like and we arrived in Prickly Bay to pick up a mooring close by the marina office where the WiFi antennas live. We attempted to eat a truly disgusting lunch at the marina restaurant and then shopped for “real” cheese, meats and bread at the nearby French “Boucher” store. We also negotiated a crate of emergency beer from the now closed liquor store and settled back aboard DoodleBug for a well earned nap. A busy day but successful. We are sailors again.

November 14, 2016

The final work day! The battery charger showed 14 volts on all three battery banks and although there is no sea water coolant, I fired up the engines for a few seconds to see if they would run. Both engines caught and ran instantly and the starter batteries seemed to hold their voltage levels. Maybe we have dodged the bullet and we don’t need to replace them! Since we now have battery power, we could untangle the anchor chain which had exhibited a couple of twists and would “jump” on the windlass chain gypsy. We lowered the anchor to the ground, unshackled it and then I hauled the chain away from the boat in 50 foot loops as Annette drove the windlass above me on the deck. This was the easy part. By the time we had retrieved the chain, untwisted it and re-installed the anchor, I was certainly filthy and ready for a beer.

Unfortunately as Annette had noticed yesterday, the beer had been stolen from the flybridge refrigerator in our absence, as well as the refrigerator door trim panel. Yes! The brushed stainless door was now “baby-shit” brown with tape marks. Someone had stolen our trim panel and replaced it with another. This is going to be both expensive and tedious to correct.

We are however as ready as we are going to be for the launch tomorrow. Our fenders are placed ready, our flags are flying and if it isn’t all stolen by tomorrow morning, we should be on our way.

November 13, 2016

Now using a different taxi driver, we arrived relatively early at the boatyard and soon had the “big” transformer hooked up to DoodleBug and the battery charger doing its thing. I found the iPod and we managed to get some music playing while Annette tackled the packing away and inventorying of boat supplies and in turn, I checked the oil levels of the various engines, tested the bilge pumps and worked the through-hull shutoffs to make sure we weren’t going to sink when we are “splashed” (re-launched) on Tuesday. By noon the engine starting batteries were up to 11 volts, still not good and an overnight charge was still necessary. The dinghy had been stored beneath and between the hulls and was now reattached to the stern davits. Similarly the outboard motor was wrestled from the cockpit back to the ground and reattached to the dinghy. We still have a list of chores to accomplish but the biggie is still the starter batteries. Are they damaged or will they recover enough to start the engines? Tomorrow will tell and by then the marine supply store will be open in case we have to buy new units.

November 12, 2016

A busy day! We had a lot to accomplish today and we skipped breakfast to facilitate our “early start”. Then our taxi driver showed up an hour late. We could have enjoyed a leisurely repast and even a couple of beers if we had but known how much he was prevaricating when we telephoned him. Nevertheless we did arrive at DoodleBug by 10:15 a.m. giving us two hours of work time before our afternoon appointment.

Annette dove into washing the accumulated muck from the stern of the boat whilst I tackled a diagnosis of the electrical charging problem we had observed. We had left DoodleBug with a single refrigerator running, connected to 600 watts of solar charging to keep everything up and happy. The solar controller now showed that very little power was going to the batteries and a status LED showed red i.e. a near discharged condition of the four large house batteries. The next step was to check the terminal block of the solar panels themselves that are independently fused. I was shocked to find that only two of the six panels were producing power. The panels are wired in three series pairs so I separated the two non-working pairs and tested the panels individually. Of the four panels, only one showed power output. This means that we have a 50% failure rate of these panels which were installed at the end of August, 2015, fourteen and a half months ago.

The engine starting batteries were showing “zero” voltage on the remote meter and I assumed that this was incorrect since they haven’t been connected to anything for the past three months. A check at the battery terminals themselves showed two volts instead of the expected twelve volts. Not good. Until this is corrected, we are unable to start the engines. I also checked the generator start battery and it was charged up ready to go. If DoodleBug was in the water, we could fire up the generator and charge everything but without coolant sea-water, we can’t even test run any of the engines.

By now Annette had moved inside the cabin and was packing away all of the goodies we had brought and putting our floating house back together. However I needed power to restore the house battery charge level and see if the two starting batteries would take a charge. Niels, the yard manager loaned me a transformer and extension cord to convert the yard power from 220 volts to 110 volts but unfortunately I needed a conversion from a standard USA three pin plug to the “twist lock” 30 ampere socket that the boat expects. The marine supply store had no such converter but did carry the required receptacle. Our taxi driver had promised us that he would pick us up at precisely 1210 hours and I was now down to 20 minutes. By some miracle I found an extension cord that I had used last year when diagnosing air conditioning problems and which had the “female” end cut off. This was soon wired into the receptacle and although I had no “box” to install it in, dangled it gracefully across the liferaft, so as not to electrocute anybody. Plugged it all in and threw the switch. We have power! I turned on the battery charger and watched as it began to pump out charging current. Then it switched off. The battery charger pulls about 1,400 watts and the transformer is only rated at 1,000 watts. Bummer! We were now out of time and we rushed across to the marina entrance to meet our taxi. Again the guy was late. While we fumed and waited, we began chatting with George of S/V Wild Cat. George admitted that he had the “other” yard transformer that had a higher rating than 1000 watts and suggested we could get it from him on the morrow. A plan then!

As we rode in the taxi, Annette called ahead to the hotel restaurant to order a “take away” lunch and we hurriedly changed into our “Hash” clothing and met “Shademan” driving the “Hash” shuttle bus, who was punctual as usual to the minute.

This was a fun hash although it bucketed with rain and we were thoroughly soaked. I was carrying rain jackets but we didn’t bother to put them on since we were sweating so copiously, scrambling uphill through the muddy brush and jungle. The “hash” route lay through the canopies of a former plantation with tall stands of bamboos, huge ancient trees and hidden gems of cultivated fields of callaloo (taro), sorrel, cocoa and of course bananas. The group of hashers, numbering upwards of two hundred, forded rushing streams and thrashed their way through back yards and between homes, watched by bemused locals. We chatted with local pig farmers at the terminus of our run and Annette was gifted a bag of sorrel fruit and a bag of “golden apples” or ambarella fruit. Hashing is such a great way to meet the residents of Grenada in a social and relaxed setting, all covered with mud and imbibing large volumes of beer as we were.

November 11, 2016

Last night, the crew of DoodleBug arrived back in Grenada after a series of uneventful flights – just the way we like them! We had been warned by other crews of the gauntlet of Grenada Customs officials we would face. Several crews had their luggage essentially “confiscated” upon arrival and were told to return the following day with a Customs Agent, plus reams of “International commercial invoices”, in order to determine and pay import duties on whatever might be squirreled away within. We were gratified to find all three of our suitcases had made the various flight connections and had been advised to avoid the crush at the Customs exit from the terminal by proceeding instead to the “Red” exit, meaning we had goods to declare. We had been further advised that if you voluntarily declare a couple of items, they won’t bother to cavity search you for whatever else you might be hauling. Accordingly I declared a dinghy outboard motor lock, a flag and a couple of drinking water filters. There was a single official at this exit and she asked me for invoices (which I had ready) and then charged me a little over US$50 in duty. As predicted, she never looked in the other suitcases. Outside the terminal was a taxi driver holding a board with my name on it – another good sign and we were soon at our hotel room, dumping our 250 pounds of luggage and heading for the bar. Here we met Steve, an airline pilot who had just flown in from Columbia. We soon determined that we were all three “deplorables” and toasted the success of the new President-elect.

This morning we staggered into consciousness and stepped outside the air-conditioned room. The warmth, humidity and whistling of hidden frogs assured us that we were still in Grenada. Several cups of tea / coffee later and we assured the hotel staff we were not in fact checking out, before loading our bulging suitcases into a taxi and heading for Clarke’s Court Marina where DoodleBug was waiting. We managed to unpack the bags and stow the empties plus confirm our launch date of Tuesday before heading back to the hotel for an afternoon nap. Real work begins tomorrow, interrupted by a “Hash” run in the afternoon.

August 6 - August 13, 2016

This week began with a vague report, gradually fleshed out during the following days, of an attack on a cruising couple, Mark and Sue, who had been anchored off nearby Hog Island. Mark had been walking their dog ashore when he was kidnapped by a couple of men with a handgun. They demanded that he transport them in his dinghy to his nearby yacht and then insisted that they raise anchor and sail to Puerto Rico. As they were leaving the bay, they ran aground on a coral reef and were unable to free the vessel. The men assaulted the couple and then left in the dinghy with the Sue, “as a hostage” to return to the main island. Here she was raped and assaulted for several hours. The men were at large for a week and then captured by police. The attack was a dreadful occurrence that the locals would like to pretend never happened.

We realize that a there is a level of crime just about everywhere throughout the Caribbean but there is a big step between the accustomed petty theft and physical assaults. This is one of the several reasons why Annette and I prefer the Pacific islands. A Google search on crime rates puts the overall murder rate in the Caribbean Islands around 30 per 100,000 population. By comparison the USA comes in at around 4 per 100,000, Samoa and Fiji at 1 or less. The usual excuses about poverty and lack of opportunity evaporate when compared to Pacific Islands where crushing poverty also exists and yet people neither steal from each other nor kill each other. Both societies are predominantly Christian but the Pacific lacks the Universal and Perpetual excuse of having experienced a slave economy 150 years ago.

Annette put the finishing touches to her current painting whilst I updated the website by adding pictures to the blog. I also began the task of converting our Australian “walkabout” tour to eBooks. We are leaving next week and searched the various hardware stores for art shipping tubes before settling upon a section of 4 inch diameter drainpipe. Annette carefully removed her works from their frames and the painted canvases were separated with wrapping paper, courtesy of the local butcher, before being rolled and placed inside the plastic drainpipe tubing.

The packaging of sand samples has been problematic as it is obvious that she has over 50 pounds collected. In addition to the logistics of hauling a suitcase full of “dirt”, there is the problem that the USA Customs controls the import of “soil”. The proposed solution is to use the US mail to ship the bulk of the sand samples after Doodlebug next reaches the Virgin Islands. Annette has discovered that one of her fellow members of the sand collectors society specializes in “ant” sand – that is the sand that ants bring to the surface of their nests. Naturally Annette wanted to collect some Grenada “ant” sand for him and finished up with 14 bites when the Grenadian fire ants objected.

Monday was the start of “Carnival” proper and this began around 4 a.m. with “Jab Jab”. The participants, or at least the younger set, strip down to near nudity, smear their bodies with used motor oil and wear horned “devil” masks and the like, sometimes with chains and padlocks around their feet and parade through the streets accompanied by hammering reggae music. The meaning of this depends upon who you hear it from. There are multiple internet references to slavery, the revolt burning of the cane fields and plantations. Supposedly the slaves were not allowed to participate in Carnival before emancipation and Jab Jab was a form of protest. The revelers traditionally fling dirty motor oil and paint at anyone and everyone and old clothes are highly recommended. We decided that this was not for us and instead traveled downtown to see “Pretty Mas” in the early afternoon. This is another parade but here the marchers / dancers are wearing the scant and gaudy costumes that had been under preparation for the past year. We noticed the road surface was coated with a thin layer of fine sand in attempt to soak up some of the earlier broadcasting of dirty motor oil. This parade was a family affair and we had learned that you could purchase a ticket to march with a particular band and would be provided with a matching costume. Early afternoon near the equator is both hot and humid and we were impressed that the dancers moved non-stop. Not all were as energetic however and we saw one young man, presumably an earlier Jab Jab participant, fast asleep in the cab of one of the trucks bearing the sound system as it came by. These trucks bore huge electric generators and were lined with monster speakers to ensure that even the inhabitants of the local cemetery could enjoy the music.

We tried to find a source for a dehumidifier to run whilst the boat was in storage but struck out here. We will just have to rely on the use of packs of deliquescent crystals that will then need to be traded out every couple of weeks. To do this we contacted Denise, who runs a local yacht services company. Denise was just recovering from an attack of Zika. We have met several couples recently who have suffered the same fate.

Just as we were packing up in anticipation of our departure, the port toilet pump began making noises of a terminal nature. I noticed that there was rust stains on the floor beneath the pump and assumed that the seals had gone allowing sea water to leak into the motor. Fortunately I had a spare pump and it was quickly replaced. I always intend to rebuild the “old” pump but every time I have removed one of these pumps, I have promptly pitched it into the trash can and vowed to buy a new one. Then I washed my hands.

Of course the big event of the week was when we left the dock on Wednesday and motored about five miles to drop anchor in Woburn Bay. We somehow managed to get our suitcases packed and the following day, DoodleBug was hauled “onto the hard” at Clarke’s Court marina. It was late afternoon before she was settled into her assigned parking spot and we spent the night at a hotel near the airport. We returned the following morning to do all the fun tasks such as stowing all of the fenders and lines, cleaning out the fridge and the like but by afternoon it was done and we are officially land-lubbers.

Our final “hash” was Saturday and we rode “Shademan’s” bus north to the town of Victoria. The “hash” began from the beach where we had examined the Petroglyphs a couple of months ago and turned out to be a “Goldilocks” run – not too far, not too steep, not too muddy, not too hot. A couple of stream crossings and a pleasant route winding between ancient bamboo groves, banana and mango plantations. We even managed to be far enough ahead of the crowd that we had to do some route finding rather than just follow the mob. A pleasant event to wrap up our Grenada visit.

July 30 - August 5, 2016

This has been a slow sort of week. We attended the “hash” on Saturday which was enjoyable and not too strenuous. These events are such a super way of meeting local residents and seeing parts of the island we would never see as “tourists”. People will set out on their stoop or garden wall and watch as a couple of hundred strangers walk across their property. They are invariably polite and will offer water, directions, or silence their dogs as appropriate. We were passing one house when the lady ahead of us stopped to talk to one of the householders. She began by explaining where on the island she lived, thereby establishing her bona fides as a local. As we passed, I heard her say, “We go up, we go down, we go behind!” Presumably she had been just been asked what was she doing, wandering around with what is decidedly a diverse crowd and I thought her explanation was admirable. I don’t know the exact demographics of the Hash club but I would estimate they about 20 percent cruisers and 80 percent locals. The locals are split about 70 / 30 between “native” Grenadians and ex-patriots.

We also attended the “Mango Festival” that was held at the National Stadium in St. Georges. This was a delightful family affair, with stalls selling mango themed food, booming music from a disc-jockey, parades and competitions. We watched the mango sucking (means “eating”) competition where three adult ladies competed to eat three mangoes in under 60 seconds. The winner was nicely dressed, with makeup and jewelry but the fact that she was carrying a towel was a dead giveaway that this was a professional, probably a ringer from Trinidad. She devoured the mangoes with ten seconds to spare, an amazing performance. Around us there were stilt-walkers and a group of thirty or so children in costume and masks who wore some kind of heavy boot, or at least footwear with enhanced stomping ability. They stamped around the stadium facility in tight formation and were obviously enjoying the attention immensely.

I tried the mango ice-cream and declared it delicious. It was too. Poor Annette had to watch me devour it as she ranks amongst the lactose intolerant, so I let her eat some of my sugar cone as a consolation.

When we left the stadium, we transited the highway to the beach front and perambulated a highway bridge across a rank and smelly stream that disgorged its suspicious contents into the bay. Annette had spotted “beach glass” from the vantage point of the bridge and we found a small gap in the wall where we were able to work our way through the bush and down to the beach, with Annette scouring the beach for treasure whilst I was looking for dead bodies and axe murderers, lurking like the troll, fol de rol, below the bridge. This was indeed the mother lode of beach glass, the difficulty of access plus the distinct possibility of sewage contamination having scared off any normal scavenger.

Although there was transportation organized for the cruisers, we chose to take the local bus to the downtown bus terminal and walk from there. We had not visited the bus terminal before and when we saw the Number “1” bus unloading, we were encouraged to board. What we learned is that the driver was supposed to join the end of a long line of buses, rather like a taxi rank at the airport. He used our presence to bully his way past the line of waiting drivers as though he had to look after these dumb tourists. He drove along the lane bypassing the parked buses and then parked blocking the lane so that he could a buy a bottle of beer from the bus station kiosk. By the time we hit the road his bus was packed with other passengers and we found ourselves stuck in a traffic jam in downtown St. Georges in airless conditions. A passenger at the back yelled out, “Driver, give it cold man!” The driver leaned forwards and turned the air-conditioner on while passengers slid the windows closed as though they were part of a drill team. This is the first and only time we have enjoyed air-conditioning on these buses and I had assumed up till this point they were inoperative.

The first tropical disturbance of the season had formed just west of the Cape Verde Islands and we carefully watched its progress as what was to become hurricane Earl headed towards us across the Atlantic and passed by to our north. The forecast area of high waves and high winds extended through the Grenadines but never included Grenada. We are currently tied up to a “fixed” dock by a network of six lines but these lines are necessarily slack to allow for a two foot tidal change, plus the two bow lines are attached to submarine anchors of unknown integrity. The bottom line is I would not want to be at this dock dealing with even a two foot swell, let alone with what a hurricane might bring. Our “hurricane plan”, filed with our insurer, states that if we are floating at the time, we will run to either Trinidad or Tobago in the event that Grenada is directly threatened with a tropical storm. Our plans in fact call for us to be “lifted” next week and stored “on the hard” at the Clarke’s Court marina where we travelled to use their crane for the generator swap-out out a couple of weeks ago.

Last night we experienced the passage of a “tropical wave” with lightning and some rain. Since we received lightning damage three times in six years aboard the original “DoodleBug”, we tend to be a little wary of such conditions but this event was but a “moon cast shadow” of the real thing and I slept through it.

July 23 - July 29, 2016

On Sunday morning we were leisurely drinking our respective morning coffee and tea when the VHF sprang to life with a call for a medical emergency. The boat name was S/V Adagio and from the tone of the caller, the situation was past dire. The cruising community responded instantly yet it still took an hour for an ambulance plus doctor to arrive. In the meantime volunteers had attempted CPR, raised anchor and brought Adagio to the fuel dock alongside DoodleBug. We helped with lines, fenders and the like and provided water to the waiting volunteers but the 65 year old captain was obviously dead and had been for some time. This nightmare is one that we all face but it is still hard to contemplate the inevitability.

Annette continued to paint this week and is working on a canvas themed around the Grenada Carnival celebration. I spent some time analyzing the undocumented add-on wiring for the generator compartment exhaust fan, before discovering that the fan itself was corroded into immobility. It took a couple of days to find a replacement fan and install it. The unit still didn’t work and since I had previously tested the wiring and relay, the only remaining issue was the power supply. Sure enough, the wire that was supposed to supply juice, dove back somewhere inside the boat in the direction of the house battery bank. This was silly, the obvious place to get clean power was from the generator alternator and its battery connection, just a few inches away from the relay. I abandoned the original wiring, ran a new power line and the fan worked!

The Grenada Carnival is celebrated next week and we joined a tour of one of the junior “pan” bands that is performing and competing during the parades. The “pan” band is what we call a steel drum band and these kids were awesome! We learned that this group has competed in 38 national and international competitions and have won 33 of them. We can well believe it. We listened to the band practice their competition number and then they performed a short concert for us. We learned that the drums, that can cost around $1,500 apiece, are limited to two simultaneous notes, since the drummer has but two arms and drumsticks. Most musical chords have three notes and the chords are achieved by another section of the drum orchestra playing the missing complementary note. There was obviously considerable skill involved in adjusting the various sections to finely balance the necessary volume and we could surmise that this band director is a perfectionist. We also toured the facility where volunteers were assembling the hundreds of costumes that the celebrants would wear, an explosion of colors, feathers and bling. This was a great tour and we really enjoyed the music.

July 16 - July 22, 2016

On Monday we left the dock and motored a little less than five miles, to drop anchor in Woburn Bay. This is a quiet little bay to the east of Prickly Bay, where we have been roosting for the past month. The anchor launched itself with just a little grumbling from the windlass. The new chain has acquired some twists and we will have to straighten these out at sometime in the future. We have read of sailors who have lowered their anchor in deep water, to allow the chain to untwist naturally and then discovered that the vertical deadweight was beyond the lift capacity of their windlass. We won’t do this.

We launched our dinghy and scouted the boat yard, visiting with the yard manager on the procedure for tomorrow’s arrival. We followed this with a visit to Palm Tree Marine’s office to check on their schedule. The operation manager was still at the St. George’s dock awaiting the release of the generator. We determined that we will just proceed on the assumption that everything will “somehow work out”.

The Clarke’s Court boatyard is still under construction and the restaurant and bar have yet to open for business. We dinghied across the inlet to the opposite side to visit the Whisper Cove Marina. At their dinghy dock we met “Bob”, who was attempting to lift 4 large batteries from his ancient dinghy onto the dock. We stayed to help him and after Annette had rustled up a pair of dock carts, I hauled a pair of batteries up the steep slope to the Marina office whilst Annette and Bob hauled the second pair. By this time we were more than ready for our beer and invited Bob to join us.

Bob is 78 years old and had circumnavigated the globe at least once. When he mentioned anchorages in the Indian Ocean, we asked him if he had stopped at Cocos Keeling and further, if he knew Bea and Diane on S/V Sortilege. He said, “You mean that small white catamaran?”. I had received an e-mail from Bea and Diane the previous week regarding Bea’s new book that has just been published (“Yowie Country”, “Jungle Rescue”[the sequel] and “Metamorphosis” by Robin Freeman). Bob insisted that they would surely remember him as the single hander on S/V Tasmine who broke his shoulder in 2003 and sailed "back" for four or five days to seek medical care at Cocos Keeling. This is surely a small world.

The following morning we tied up at the Clarke’s Court dock and waited for the arrival of the crane. The latter showed up just before lunch and by 1:30 p.m. the old generator had been lifted from DoodleBug and the replacement unit craned into place. The only anxious time was when the mechanic began cleaning underneath the old generator whilst the latter hung directly above his head, all of its 600 pounds of iron suspended from a single rusty shackle. There is no way I could have done this, I have too much imagination. The crew continued to leisurely hook up the various hoses and umbilicals but seemed more interested in the painting that Annette was working on in the cockpit. Meanwhile I attempted to find some power for the night, that would allow us to run our bedroom air-conditioner. I “hotwired” an extension cord to our power cord and plugged it into a yard transformer that dropped the Grenada voltage from 220 volts to the USA standard of 110 volts. When I threw the switch, the dock power went off. The yard electrician disappeared for some minutes and the power came back on. I tried again. As I watched the input voltage carefully, the voltage began to fall and the amperage correspondingly increased until I was forced to switch the air-conditioner off to avoid damaging it. A miserable hot night, as the yard is infested with no-see um’s who found their way inside and were seemingly proof against any normal concentration of insecticide.

The following morning the generator install crew were back aboard and by noon had completed the installation. We motored off the dock and anchored again in the Bay with the new generator and air-conditioners going full blast. A definite improvement on last night and by morning we were almost refreshed when we raised anchor and motored back to Prickly Bay to tie up again at the dock.

The new generator is very pretty in its pristine white sound enclosure and there are just a couple of minor items to correct, one being that the compartment exhaust fan is not running. There is always something!

July 9 - July 15, 2016

This week was the annual chore known as “the boat insurance renewal challenge”. The insurer requires you to outline your cruising plans for the next twelve months and this necessitates you actually having some intentions, or at the very least, creating the fiction of some goals. Then they require a detailed hurricane plan. This is trickier because they want specifics on items such as the thickness of mooring lines and the contact information on the party claimed to be looking after the boat when the owner is absent. If you fabricate this information, they could deny the claim in the event of a mishap. This year however, no inspection or survey of the vessel was demanded. The latter would have involved considerable expense as well as the aggravation of finding an appropriately licensed surveyor, plus arranging for a haul-out so that the hull could be inspected. A typical boat inspection can easily cost as much as the annual insurance premium.

On Saturday we again signed up for the “HASH” (see previous posts if you don’t know what this is) and headed “downtown” St. George’s to their national stadium where a couple of hundred hashers stood around chatting and visiting. This was a diverse group (a heavily overused word that means entirely different things to different people), ranging from those carrying babes in backpacks through ancient people like us. I have no idea how many nationalities were represented but conversations were ongoing around us in French, German, Spanish and Dutch plus the local patois of Grenada Creole. There were dogs on leashes and dogs running free, families with children and some very serious looking lycra-clad running types. The organizers had scoured the crowd looking for “virgins” (people who had never “hashed” before), particularly those with new running shoes. The victims had a single shoe confiscated and were invited to stand in front of the podium where the hash leader explained that the shoes needed to be tested before they could be allowed on the course. On this particular day there were three young Grenadian girls who looked on with initial puzzlement and then shock as a bottle of beer was poured into each shoe to test them for “leaks” followed by the admonition to “drink it or wear it”.

The hash course ran from the stadium, across a park and then near vertically up a steep muddy hillside towards the prison perched atop Richmond Hill. If the steep slope wasn’t muddy enough from the recent rains, the single file passage of a couple of hundred hashers guaranteed that the “hike” was a muddy scramble, pulling on any branch or twig that might possibly bear weight. We had taken a couple of one inch diameter dowels (used for flying Annette’s kites) to use as hiking sticks and these turned out to be invaluable as they could be thrust into the mud to act as anchors or jammed between trees for handholds. For a time we followed a less than athletic Venezuelan lady who had been told that this would be a pleasant walk. She was now perched high on a muddy hillside with a line of people both ahead and behind her, struggling to get up a hold-less slope whilst muttering dire imprecations in Spanish. At one point she was straddled across a log when she toppled backwards and slid headfirst down the hill until arrested by a tree-stump. Annette helped to her feet while quizzing her. “Are you broken, are you bleeding?” A shaken negative and Annette assured her, “You have both earrings, you’re OK”. This was a tough “hike” needing more upper-body work than footwork and the clumsy folks were easily identified by the amount of mud on their clothing and bodies.

That night it rained heavily across Grenada putting nearly four inches of water into our dinghy. I can only imagine what that hash would have been like either during or just after such a rain.

Our current plans call for us to cruise in the Caribbean next year and since we had now settled the insurance issue, we decided we will park DoodleBug “on the hard” next month and spend late summer in Santa Fe. We are still expecting our generator to be replaced next week at Clarkes Boat yard, located a couple of bays east of where we are now. Just finding dock space to enable the generator to be craned out of its locker has been a problem and similarly catamaran lift capability and storage space is hard to find. We did eventually make arrangements to be lifted at the same boat yard a few weeks after the generator swap-out.

July 2 - July 8, 2016

In the morning we generally listen to a “cruiser’s radio net” that begins at 0730 hours and generally runs for 45 minutes or so. The “net” is run by volunteers and after the call for “emergencies” medical or otherwise, begins with a marine weather forecast. I usually don’t pay much attention to this because I have already researched this a couple of hours earlier but this particular morning the local weather report gave the humidity at 94%. Wow! I used to think that Houston was humid.

Annette has been producing more paintings and is currently experimenting with “minimalist art”. I don’t pretend to understand but I do know that her version involved painting with a brush made from rubber bands and she is constructing another brush using dog hair. I mentioned that using the whole dog would be more efficient but this suggestion was “brushed off”.

Yesterday we participated in the Grenada Hash House Harriers event known as a “HASH”. For the uninitiated, the concept of a HASH was founded in 1937 by Albert Gispert, an English chartered accountant who had been transferred by his employer to Malaya and is based upon the centuries old game of “Fox and Hounds”. The Malaysian authorities required that organizations be registered with the government and since Albert’s buddies typically ate at the Selangor club, not famous for the quality of its food and derogatorily referred to by the members as the “hash house”, his club was registered as the “Hash House Harriers”. “Hash” clubs are scattered all around the globe and the reader will likely find one in whatever town they are resident.

The “Fox” is given a start of some number of minutes and takes off into the bush / jungle laying a trail of shredded paper (or flour as we experienced in Micronesia). The Fox can set false trails that terminate in an “X” and when branching trails are experienced, it takes some casting around by the “Hounds” to find the correct trail. It is debatable whether the the point of the game is to catch the “Fox” or simply to to imbibe a large quantity of beer and get a little exercise in the process. To arrive with the lead “Hounds” it is usually not necessary to be the swiftest runner since the lead harriers will be searching for the trail markers and backing up when they are lost. The “lost”parties yell out, “Are You?” and when the trail markers are spotted, the lead “Hounds” yell, “On! On!”. Annette and I stayed up with the main body of the group until we found a trail split with an arrow sending the “runners” in one direction and the “walkers” in an another. The walkers thinned out in the thick brush and we were alone, having to find our own trail markers instead of following the mob and enjoying the scenery. There was a short section where the runners rejoined the trail we were following and then a second trail split that almost all of the other “walkers” missed. Now we were truly alone with no sound of shouts either ahead or behind us. We were also both ready for a beer as the trail wound on and on through dense undergrowth and several times we had to cast around in wide circles to pick it up again. We would have likely shortcut back to the terminus of the run if we hadn’t been so thoroughly lost. As it was we just continued to follow the clumps of shredded paper in the fading light. We came upon a steep road under construction and the workers halted the operation of their diggers and the like to allow us to pass down the steep muddy incline beside their idling equipment. We weren’t the last people to arrive at the finish but not too many folks were behind us. We felt superior however in that we may have been the only “walkers” to have followed the “correct” trail, due of course to our superior aboriginal tracking skills derived in part from watching old Crocodile Dundee flicks.

Wednesday was “shopping bus day” where a special bus is laid on to take shoppers on a swing through banks, supermarkets, pharmacies and the like for about US$5 per head. As we waited for the bus, Les and Louise of S/V Bali walked by and invited us to join them on a private bus charter to visit the Grenada chocolate factory (www.grenadachocolate.com). We hastily swapped out our shopping bags for cameras and headed off up the west coast of the island to the village of Hermitage. Here we toured the only chocolate manufacturing facility in a cocoa producing country.

The facility was a surprise in that this was a real manufacturing operation tucked away in a tiny village off the main drag. Chocolate manufacture is a complex process – here I am talking about “real” chocolate, not that brown waxy crap that Cadbury’s and Hershey sell. We began our tour by visiting the sheds where the cocoa beans are “fermented” before being dried, roasted and ground. The various machines for the processing of the dried beans were a curious melange of vintages and origins. Some were made in the USA but there were also ancient Italian and British devices that might have originated in a museum. In spite of the age of the equipment, the whole set-up looked very businesslike, well laid out and obviously a source of pride to the local community. Of course we tasted the chocolate and declared it to be excellent. A really interesting tour.

Later I was looking on the internet and discovered that the enterprise was begun in 1999 by owner and founder Mott Green with the note that he was formerly “David Friedman”. Huh? This bore further investigation. Mott Green was the son of Staten Island physicians who decided to cast aside his life of privilege, dropped out of college and became an anarchist / squatter / environmentalist in the early 90’s and who nevertheless was able to afford to move to Grenada, build himself a hut somewhere and equip the latter with sufficient solar power to run his stereo system. The internet reports that Ella Fitzgerald was on his playlist. He and friends put together the machinery and had all shipped to Grenada to set up operations. The business was supposedly financially in the black after a mere 14 years of operations, a few months before his accidental death of electrocution whilst repairing some solar powered equipment. I learned that the Grenada chocolate is the darling of the environmental industry with all sorts of international awards and a documentary narrated by Susan Sarandon underway at the time of his demise. He was just 47 when he was killed and with his business finally beginning to take off.

The week ended with a truly spectacular fireworks display at the marina. The display was allegedly for a private birthday party for the American Ambassador to Grenada but the State Department website gives the ambassador’s birthday in October. Maybe they really wanted to celebrate on the 4th. but were hunkered down behind sandbags and S.W.A.T. teams that day. We are tied up on the dock here at Prickly Bay and the fireworks were being launched from inside the marina grounds about 40 yards from our fly-bridge where we were sitting, beers in hand. I researched “fireworks displays” to see what they might cost for a private party ($3K and up) and discovered all of the lengthy permitting rules as well as the admonition that the firing point must be at least 50 yards from any people or structure. Apparently this particular rule is not applicable to Grenada.

June 25 - July 1, 2016

The Brexit vote was last week on the 23rd. so the bulk of the week’s international “news” consisted of cloned articles echoing the same speculations of possible repercussions. That and the European soccer championship pretty much wrapped up the outside world. This is the first time we have stayed aboard our boat during hurricane season and interacted with the cruising community. In past years i.e. with the previous “DoodleBug”, if we were parking the boat somewhere during hurricane / cyclone season, we had left the boat and returned to the USA for a few months to take the kettle off the stove and let the cat out.

We gave up our rental car after the first week and have been riding the local “buses”. These are mostly Toyota vans that manage to cram 19 people inside, with five rows of seats including the driver. The bench seats will each seat three people but the port armrest folds down to create “space” for a fourth person. Of course there is no way you can exit these vehicles unless the folks sitting on the “fold down” seats get out of the van first. To add to the overall ambience of the experience, they never use air-conditioning and they play rap music at truly ear shattering volume levels that the famous rock band “Disaster Area” would be proud of. The driver usually has a partner who handles the cash (2.50 EC dollars per trip – just over 90 cents US) and acts as a spotter for potential riders. They do have a route and there is a number on the front of the van designating the route but this is more for guidance rather than a rule. The spotter would notice us coming out of a store and yell across the road at us, “Number one?”. With an affirmative wave they would then hold up traffic so that we could cross the highway and board. Pretty neat really.

We continue to take care of a few boat chores and as the list whittles down, we have the boat in about as good a shape as it’s going to get on the anniversary of its purchase. Annette has begun painting again and has a large 36” by 48” canvas under construction that I have already titled, “Chagos Sunset”. I have offered it to sale to curious by-passers for a discount price of $18,000 but haven’t had any takers yet.

My last “major” upgrade was to swap out the 40 ampere battery charger for a new 100 ampere unit. In its previous life, renters would run the 9 kW generator just about non-stop during the period of their charter and the 40 ampere unit drawing a mere half of a kilowatt, acted as a sort of trickle charger to the batteries. We added 600 watts of solar charging last August that on most days provides sufficient juice for lighting and to run the three refrigerator / freezers we operate. We only use the generator for air-conditioning and also to boost the batteries after a couple of cloudy days have impacted the solar output. What had irritated us was the use of only one eighteenth of the generating capacity to perform this function while burning generator diesel and we were about to rectify this with the new unit. I knew this would not be a simple swap-out with just a couple of wires involved. The battery charger is connected to the house batteries via a giant fuse buried behind intimidating cables. In addition it is also wired to the engine starter batteries and is “paralleled” to the solar array which kicks out a not inconsequential amount of power delivered at 36 volts. The swap out job began with disconnecting all of the house battery terminals from their respective batteries, removing the in-line fuses in the engine compartments to isolate the the engine starter batteries and similarly isolating the six solar panels by removing their fuses. The work-space for the charger is tiny and involved considerable contortion and a whole lot of cursing. Four hours later it was all installed and re-connected. I threw the input power breaker to the new charger and watched the monitor as it began to churn out nearly 90 amperes of charging power. My elation lasted about sixty seconds when the breaker popped. I knew this might happen and just hoped to get lucky. The respective manuals claim a recommended 6 ampere input breaker for the “old” unit and a 16 ampere breaker for the “new” one. This would be a “tomorrow” project.

The following morning I opened up the A/C power panel and found the installed battery charger breaker is rated at 10 amperes. Sitting next to it was a “spare” breaker, unused, already wired in and rated at 15 amperes. Sometimes you do get lucky! I swapped the output wires and powered up the new charger. It ran and produced lots of power until I shut is down a few hours later to let the solar panels do their work.

June 18 - June 24, 2016

Last week we had moved from a mooring onto a slip at the marina dock. This means we not only had a viable internet connection but “on demand” city power for air conditioning! Our generator could also provide this power but requires diesel fuel to make it hum and unfortunately, when the air conditioner cycles “off”, the unloaded generator has more of a death rattle than a “hum”. We decided to take this opportunity to call around to see what a new generator might cost. We also slowly attacked our “to do” list of boat chores, the chores you put off because you either don’t want to do them, or they are remarkably tedious. We finally found a replacement LED anchor light bulb that fits the socket and in addition replaced more of our interior lighting with low power draw LED’s. I also tackled the chore of calibrating the refrigerator thermostat. It’s particular crime is that it is too cold and there are few more spirit crushing events we suffer in this life than discovering your beer is frozen and won’t come out of the can.

We checked around on the price of anchor chain and discovered the best deal, on this island at least, was at the Budget Marine store across the bay. This meant we could drop the “old” chain into the dinghy, motor it across the bay to Budget and they in turn swapped this for new anchor chain to be loaded again into our dinghy. Removing the old chain had been entertaining in that the “boat” end of the chain was spliced into a length of nylon rode that I needed Annette to cut with a dive knife. I was underneath the catamaran at the time of cutting, holding the dinghy in place whilst the “old” chain lay in swathes on the floor around my feet. The last time I asked Annette to cut a perfectly good line was during a 2004 emergency and she couldn’t bring herself to do it until too late. Again she needed multiple affirmations that it really needed to be done in this decidedly non-emergency application. In the event, it was very hard to cut, thereby indicating we really need a sharper knife for emergency line cutting.

I had serviced the windlass and taken the chain gypsy over to Budget to ensure that the new chain was really going to fit but it was still a huge relief when the new chain was sucked up from the dinghy into the boat and the anchor re-attached. I looked up the internet on how to make the chain to nylon rode splice and with the help of a non-frozen beer was able to make this splice myself instead of hiring someone to do this for me as I have in the past. The advantage of this splice over the typical “mixed rode” application is that my work is safely buried under 300 feet of chain so my workmanship is nigh impossible to criticize.

We took this opportunity to donate the old 45 pound anchor that was on the boat when we took possession, as well as its 145 feet of chain. We now have an 88 pound “self setting” anchor on 300 feet of chain, enabling us to anchor just about anywhere in the world we might want to go. Typically sailors use a “5 to 1” rule that the anchor chain deployed should be at least 5 times the water depth. To complicate this, the anchor and windlass are mounted five feet above the surface of the water so that in 20 feet of water, we would actually need 125 feet of chain to anchor safely, about what we carried previously. The new set-up will allow us to anchor in nearly 60 feet of water.

We did make a deal to buy a new generator and will hang on this dock for the full month whilst it is shipped from the manufacturer.

June 11 - June 17, 2016

We decided to spend at least a week at Prickly Bay, Grenada to “regroup”, catch up on boat chores and see the island.

Our first step beyond the act of renting a car was to set out to investigate various boat storage options, thus we found ourselves in the island capital, downtown St. George’s, trapped in their one way street system. Several of the the narrow streets were unlabeled as to the direction of traffic flow and in the absence of parked cars as an indicator, it was easy to find oneself on a one way street, headed against the oncoming traffic. More by accident than design, we found ourselves in the close proximity of Fort George, the citadel that overlooks the town and its harbors. We pulled into the parking lot at the fort and discovered it is currently used a a training academy for the Grenada police force. The policemen who were loitering on the sidewalk indicated that it would be fine for us to explore the facility and we wandered around the old fort with it’s ancient rusting cannons and its sweeping view of St. George. The courtyard where we had entered bore a memorial tablet to Prime Minister Maurice Bishop and his cabinet members who had been shot during a coup. I then realized that I knew little about Grenada other than the fact that US Marines had invaded in 1983.

Grenada was occupied by Carib Indians from the South American mainland who displaced the earlier occupants, collectively referred to as Arawak Indians. The Caribs were fierce fighters and wiped out early attempts at European colonization until the French managed to gain a fortified foothold on the island in 1649. The driving force for colonization was again the production of sugar cane for the manufacture of alcohol and as in other places, the local Caribs were unsatisfactory as a source of labor and thus replaced by African slave labor. The discovery and implementation of northern latitude sugar beet agriculture in the mid-1700’s wiped out the Caribbean cane industry and the Grenada plantations similarly collapsed. The British and French squabbled back and forth over the island until 1783 when the island became British once more. Once the economic requirement for slaves had evaporated, slavery was abolished in 1834 but unlike other islands where the former slaves were essentially abandoned to fend for themselves, nutmeg had been introduced here in 1843 and the island had become a global source of the spice.

In 1974 Grenada became independent of Britain with a Parliamentary system of governance. This lasted 5 years before a military coup put a Marxist group in control. They held power for the next four years until they fell out amongst themselves and began shooting each other. The Cubans had begun extending the runway in Grenada for all of the tourists who naturally flock to islands run by a bunch of armed thugs but Reagan believed that the Cubans, as surrogates for their masters the Soviets, intended to use Grenada to project military power throughout the Caribbean. Reagan organized a military incursion backed by US troops which the association of kleptocrats, dictators and psychopaths called the “United Nations” roundly denounced. The Grenada military and their Cuban allies were swiftly defeated, the US troops departed a few weeks later and a democratic government restored with elections in 1984.

Today the economy is described as 11% agriculture and 20% industry. The island still is a large exporter of the spices nutmeg and mace and there is also some degree of manufacturing. I noticed that Wikipedia has a chart showing the breakdown of exports and an astonishing 8% of export is claimed to be household quality toilet paper. The balance of the economy is tourism and services. The GDP per capita of over $14,000 certainly explains the overall look of prosperity of the island compared to some of the other places we have visited.