Flashback Dom Repub

 

offshore anagada

looks like Smith Island?

Anagada Saturday

Sat Dec 19, 2009

Sailing up from Road Harbor, Tortola,  after checking in with the local government, I originally intended to up to the north west end of Virgin Gorda and anchor in the Gorda Sound.  That would leave the 11 mile tack to Anagada for the next day.  The conditions however were a little more forgiving and after an experimental tack to the North and plotting my course realized that I could probably make it to Anagada before 5 pm.   So I pressed on into the diminishing waves (for a change) and followed some charter cats on the same course northwards.  That in itself was a change; it has been almost a year when I held a course with anything with a 'N' in it.

By noon the wind shifted just slightly towards the NNW and when I was within  6 miles of Anagada I entered the wave shadow of the huge reef that makes up most of the island.  I had a déjà vu moment as I approached the island. It was so much like sailing across the Chesapeake to the Smith Island chain.  The island first becomes apparent on the horizon by a couple of tree tops seemingly sticking out of the water. As you draw near, you begin to see buildings dotting the shoreline, then the white sand of the beaches.

By 2 pm I was negotiating the channel that leads you through the wide sandy shallows of the south coast of Anagada.  I chose to drop anchor just off the well known 'Neptune's Treasure Hotel'.  There were mostly charter cats in the anchorage, but could see a large ketch at the far east end of anchorage.  Within a day most of these boats were gone, probably due to the anticipated passage of a front through the area or the hectic schedules the charter boats seem to adhere to.  Even though there was plenty of light, I chose to have an early dinner aboard, do some boat chores and turn in at dusk, planning to go ashore first thing and check out the island.

Next morning, first light, I was up and heading to the dinghy dock at 'Neptunes Treasure'.  I checked in with the staff, introducing myself and pointing out my boat anchored a hundred yards offshore.  More little blue boat comments.  They have internet and a nice menu, not to mention a back porch with an amazing view, making for a promising base of operations.

I walked out to the main road and headed up to the main square of the hotel/restaurant area next to the ferry dock.  A friend in St John, a chef, had recently secured employment at a small restaurant/bar.  Ok just assume for now on that all restaurants in the Carribean have as part of their business plan, a bar taking up half the space.  Anyway, I found the place, modest by some standards, but since checking out the other restaurants and eateries here its pretty nice.   My chef friend told me he really needed a bartender that could a) speak the Queens english; and b) was a personable fellow.  Anyway, I found the owner, a prominent local businessman it turns out, judging by the number of establishments with his nickname of 'Litl Bit' as part of the sign over the doors.  A very congenial fellow and after a while we were talking terms of employment.  One obstacle remained, you need papers to work in the BVI, and that would require the filing of numerous forms in Tortola, the place I had just left.  'Litl Bit' made arrangements with a representative (what?) in Road Town that I was to report to there, and she would walk me through the process.  Ok.  Guess I'm sailing to Road Town on Monday. 

Back at the Neptunes Treasure, got to know the employees there.  It's a quiet time pending the season starting after Christmas, so I got a lot of attention.  Wonderful, friendly people, everywhere and everyone that I've met so far.  Its so quiet here at night, no sirens, car noise, just the sound of birds, the wind through the rigging.  Did I say It's nice here?

 

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Did a walkabout the island today, coming ashore early.  The main road winds around the island basically staying within a quarter mile of the shoreline.  I saw a total of 3 vehicles the whole 5 or 6 mile walk.  One car came unsolicited to a stop alongside, and the women inside announced that if I wanted to see the flamingos that I should look to the right about a half mile up the road.  Two miles later, after making several detours down rightward dirt roads ending up on the shore of the large salt pond that dominates the interior of this end of the island, I gazed over the top of a small rise on the road to see a group of pink colored buoys in the water.  After a couple of moments one of the buoys raised a long serpentine neck to check me out.  The flock of a 100 or so flamingos were descendents of a small flock transplanted from Bermuda around 17 years ago.  I also checked out the beaches on the north shore, with the soft sand that you would sink to your ankles in.  The offshore reef break stretches all along the north side of the island, showing huge breakers 500 yards offshore on reefs edge. I stopped a couple of times, stripped down and cooled off in the Atlantic Ocean.  Pristine, uninhabited, no footprints.

Walking later on, starting to wonder if the knees where gonna make it, thinking that maybe I should have dosed myself with motrin and some water before departure; I was approached by the other two vehicles that I saw today.  The driver of the first waved as he passed then his tail gate fell off.  This brought the procession to a halt.  I picked up one end and helped the driver reinstall the end of his truck.  Loaded with mangrove branches, they were gonna have a lobster barbeque.  The two drivers seemed perplexed as to why the guy with the funny straw hat was walking out in the middle of no where.

 

 In hindsight, I might have taken the bike, but 5 hours later was taking a taxi to take me and my aching knees back to town.  The island is flat with a large salt pond in the center. The cab driver was working on his roof as I hobbled past his house and called down "you alright mon?"  We negotiated a price and I climbed in his small SUV while he climbed down his roof.

 

 

Back at Neptunes, I surf the web, talk to some of the guests and the bartender that looks like Russell Crowe.  Really.  The cool breeze is on my back, making the candles on the tables flicker, even though there are only a few customers.  Calypso Christmas music softly plays accented by the surf; Natie M. bobs at anchor offshore, in the same place I left her in the morning.  Its good to be here.

 

pictures from BVI

pictures from BVI

Natie M. Blog post

First the question:  Where the hell you been?  My last blog entry had me arriving in Jamaica.  Well, since then I have traveled in a rather bit of a rush along the south coast of Hispaniola; Haiti and Dominican Republic, barely stopping to sleep on the south coast of Puerto Rico and Vieques finally to arrive, back home in the US as it were, in the US Virgin Islands. I did this, in hindsight for reasons not entirely well thought out at the time.  Nevertheless, the race, for that is what it was, was not without interesting experiences and some adventure.  As a flashback I will recount some of this passage.

 

To begin with, now that I was in the beginnings of the yearly onset of the trade winds, my gamble to sail south to Jamaica from Santiago de Cuba paid off in the form of the subsidence of the strong winds I experienced in the aforementioned passage.  Unfortunately the wind was still coming out of the east however light, making for a lengthy motoring session.  I topped off the tank and the 5 gallon reserve and left at dawn two days after arriving in Port Antonio.  What followed was a 4 knot slog where the drone of the motor reverberated in my skull through the following night.  Sometime around 5 am the motor died.  I was in my berth, and rousing myself up to drain the 5 gallons I had in reserve into the tank, restarted the motor and calculated when I would need the wind, miraculously from the west please, to reappear.  This did not come to pass and once my reserve was used up I found myself in rough seas 30 miles from Point Abacour, Haiti.  In 5- foot waves and 10-15 kt east winds I began the trade wind shuffle, tacking eastwards along the southern coast of Haiti in light winds and stiff chop. 

With little fuel and exhaustion setting in,  I decided to make for the largest port nearby, Jacmal, Haiti and arrived there, exhausted after three days and nights of rough sailing in hopes that I would find both gasoline, and now propane which gave out the night before.  During the night a large wave came over the bow and I found the next morning the Danforth anchor I had lashed to the deck was no longer there.  So that is what the loud clunking noise was.  On April 14, 2009 at 1100 I enter Jacmal harbor in the company of several dilapidated fishing sloops, which eyed me curiously.  I was beginning to sense that this port was not on the 'A' list for cruisers.

Approaching a large concrete dock, eyeing a little cove that looked to be sheltered by the shallow curve of the coast and a small reef broached by a wrecked freighter, a rowboat with two men intercepted me offering anchoring assistance.  This is when I had my first encounter with a boat boy.  Jacques Michel and his associate helped me set my anchor along the municipal dock.  I noticed the prevalence of young boys on the beach observing me along with what I recognized as the blue helmeted, AK carrying United Nations peace keeping force stationed there.  When I finally came ashore to clear in, it was first with the UN.  The detachment of Sri Lanken airborne troops was some comfort as after they inspected my passport and documents, recording the information, and promised to keep an eye on the Natie M. when I was not aboard.  Next was the Haitian customs officer, who seemed more than a little surprised to see a US flagged sailboat anchored offshore. Jacques Michel, the boat boy I mentioned earlier, was helpful in getting me fuel through out the day and even propane and I paid for it.  I did not complain as it would have taken me a lot longer to provision and supply without his help and I would not have had time to explore this interesting city on the southern coast of Haiti.  It was a lot of fun, carrying a gas can sitting on the back of a moped, racing after my boat boy on the back of another moped racing through the chaotic crowded streets to first the gas station then to the propane dealer. 

I also met several ex pat Americans who were making a go of it there, running hotels and small art studios.  The streets were a mess with busted sewers and water mains at the bottom of the hill near the dock, but the architecture and relative absence of litter and debris was surprising.  French colonial is how I would describe it, sort of like New Orleans.  I was informed by a local hotel manager that the town is populated by many people of the Ba' hai faith and it is this that he attributed the relative safety and peace of the city.  I can testify that I never felt threatened or taken advantage of  (besides Jean Michels fees for fuel) while I roamed the streets visiting some historic building and the main market, a sprawling maze of narrow alleys and streets, crowded with vendors and careening motorbikes.  It was curious to see that much of the food for sale, especially dried goods, rice and beans were without exception, dispensed out of sacks labeled as gifts of some country in the form of foreign emergence food aid.  I have read that Haiti is the largest welfare state in the world and I saw much that would confirm this notion.

 

By mid day of the 15^th I left Jacmal in hopes that the weather would improve and I would make it well into the Dominican Republic before resting again at anchor.  NEXT FLASHBACK: Adventure in Dom with the Guerra de la Marina!

 

Ok, I'm back to the present.  I've been working off and on in St Thomas and St john but decided that living there is not why I did this cruise.  Wrapped up things and am now headed to new places, so here goes:

December 12, 2009

I left Coral Harbor, St John on Saturday and moved over to Round Bay to join some other boats (classic Breathe, Buxom and other great boats) in a raft up.  I was a little nervous due to the high wind gusts whipping around the point so I chose to anchor close by.  My little Natie M. sandwiched between tons of creaking wood hulls was a little more than I could take.  Plus I got the distinct impression that sleep was not an option at this particular party.

It was fun and one of the boats captain was a surfer who took turns taking his dinghy and small surf board out for some wake boarding.  It was a little board,barely six feet and I could not get the thing up on plane.  I had the brainstorm of getting the ULI deployed and that was the trick.  It was so much fun!  I surfed the wake of the dinghy, back and forth on its wake.  After an hour I was worn out and it was back to the raft for bloody marys and cold beer.  I did manage to get some things done in preparation for departure though.  I rigged a dinghy I purchased, complete with a 5hp mariner two stroke, for towing and other odd jobs that needed attending to.  On Monday, though the weather forecast was not terribly friendly, weighed anchor and jumped out into the waves.  It was blowing a bit with 20 kt winds and a north swell that made it a slow slog.  By 12 noon I made it to Peter Island and Great Bay.  Pretty spot, but spent the night babysitting the anchor on a lee shore with wind gust whipping the boat about. 

Next morning my paranoia about not clearing in right off induced me to sail over to Road Town to clear in.  It was a rolly anchorage with the most loathsome ferry wakes but I managed to get the anchor set and dinghy in for some incredibly time consuming customs and immigration.  I would stand there at the station that I was directed to, forms, passport and wallet in hand, to watch officials go out of their way to ignore me.  Finally after 20 minutes one of them would saunter over to give me the honor of taking my money.  I kept my cool.  30 day visa in hand I was out of there and back to the boat.

Back into the strong trades and waves, it was tacks all the way to Spanish Town.   I did make a close pass to Ginger Isl and Fallen Jerusalem to check out the numerous wreaks on the rocks there.  Very sobering. 

Arrived on Tues around 4 pm to anchor behind a small barrier reef just south of the main harbor in Spanish Town Virgin Gorda.   I have the anchorage all to myself as many boats, other than locals, do not want to tempt fate by the narrow entry in any sort of sea.  I'd been there before (in a friends boat that time) and knew it was doable with my shoal draft. 

Anchored in some soft sand in 10 feet of water I have the spot.   I'm also in front of this beautiful little hotel on the beach with an accommodating wifi signal and free coffee in the morning.  They apparently think I'm a guest instead of some free loading cruiser.  Its a great spot and the water is clean in the anchorage, a far cry from Coral harbor.  Gonna hang here today to do final provision and some boat work and maybe a walk about. 

Tomorrow heading up the coast to Gorda Sound for final staging for Anagada.

 

pictures on the blog site

www.http://natiem.blogspot.com