Sailing Saviah

Oregon, British Columbia, and back to Seattle (2014)

2014-08-05T14:37:00.000-07:00

We set off from San Francisco Bay on May 13^th, hoping to make it as far north as possible before the typical northwesterly winds picked up again. The weather forecast showed very light winds and mild swell for the following five days. This stretch of coastline can be treacherous, as strong winds and steep seas occur frequently. Ports of refuge become fewer as one proceeds north, and most have sandbars in front of the entrance, making it dangerous to arrive during periods of rough weather. This makes it even more important to monitor the forecast and run for cover before bad weather arrives.

After four uneventful days, we covered 470 miles, and the forecast showed conditions would be deteriorating soon. We decided to stop in Newport, Oregon and wait for the next window to make the remaining hop up the Oregon and Washington coast.

Newport is a quiet coastal town, and the relaxed pace of life was a refreshing change from the hustle and bustle of San Francisco. It is home to one of the largest commercial fishing fleets in Oregon and the fishing port in the historic Bayfront area was often busy with ships coming and going, unloading their catch of crab, tuna, halibut, and rockfish. Crab pots lined the edges of the harbor entrance and went for miles up and down the coast. At minus tides, hundreds of people were often out clamming in the mud flats under the bridge.

A week after we arrived, our friends Eric, Cristi, and their kids, Jadyn and Logan, came down from Seattle to spend Memorial Day weekend exploring the Oregon coast. They picked us up, and we headed south near Florence for a dune buggy tour in the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area, the largest area of coastal dunes in North America. Some of these dunes are 500 feet tall, and our driver took us on an exhilarating ride at speeds up to 60 mph. It seemed certain the buggy would flip over time and again, and we were glad we didn’t do it on a full stomach. The next several days were spent hanging out with our friends and exploring the beautiful Oregon beaches. It felt good to be back in the Pacific Northwest again.

Our plan was to continue north the next week, but the weather did not cooperate. Strong northwest winds were blowing, which would have made for a slow and miserable passage up the coast. As we started to become impatient, we thought back to our trip down the coast four years prior. That was the most uncomfortable passage of our entire circumnavigation, with big seas and very cold and wet conditions. It was a lesson learned the hard way right off the bat, and our understanding of weather systems and choosing to wait for the right conditions before leaving port has kept us alive and Saviah unscathed so far.

Fortunately, if you get stuck on the coast somewhere, Newport is definitely the place to be. There is a marina with very reasonable rates located right next to the Rogue Brewery. The city loop bus service runs every few hours, where we could catch a free ride into town for groceries and other shopping. They also have beautiful beaches running for miles to the north and south of town.

One of the highlights of our stay was a trip out to the Yaquina Head Lighthouse, just a few miles to the north. It was a bit of a hike from the marina but well worth it. Walking trails near the lighthouse lead up to vistas of the cape, and there are numerous tide pools to explore at low tide.

After waiting for a month in Newport, twice as long we had ever waited for weather before, we finally had a decent window on June 17^th. The next section up the coast has even fewer ports of refuge, and the inshore route passes near the Columbia River Bar. This is where Columbia River flows out into the Pacific at four to seven knots against the prevailing westerly quadrant winds and swells, and the sea state can become quite dangerous for many miles offshore during the ebb tide. It is called the graveyard of the Pacific, since over 2,000 large ships have sunk there. Our goal was to transit this area in calm conditions, preferably at slack or flood tide.

Since this window was only a few days, we decided to get a jump on it to ensure we would make it beyond the bar and up into the Strait of Juan de Fuca, 240 miles away, before the winds picked up again. As we left, the northwest winds were still blowing at 10-15 knots with a five foot choppy swell, and it took some time to get our sea legs after a month in the calm of the marina. By the second morning, conditions had moderated, and we motor-sailed along in relative comfort. Conditions remained calm for the next two days, but a low was approaching Vancouver Island, BC. After rounding Cape Flattery, we headed east into the Strait of Juan de Fuca to Port Angeles to wait for the low to pass.

After two nights in Port Angeles, the weather cleared up, and we set sail again. Rather than go straight back to Seattle, we decided to do one last side trip. For years, we had been hearing about a place called the Princess Louisa Inlet in British Columbia, and it seemed like a good time to see it. With three days of really nice weather in the forecast, we wanted to get there as quickly as possible. We left at first light and sailed north across the Strait of Juan de Fuca, through the San Juan Islands and into Bedwell Harbor on South Pender Island, arriving early that afternoon. It was just a quick stop to clear Canadian customs, and we were underway again an hour later.

We continued north through the night, making it across the Strait of Georgia before sunrise. By this point, we were ahead of schedule and slowed our pace for the last 45 miles up the Jervis Inlet. There was no reason to rush, as the plan was to transit Malibu Rapids at high slack tide late that afternoon. The scenery along this stretch was really beautiful with many snow-capped mountains towering in the background. It was especially nice to be back in protected waters again, after months of working our way up the Pacific coast.

The Jervis Inlet is a fjord that starts 60 miles north of Vancouver, BC and zig-zags for about 50 miles inland. The fjord is beautiful and pristine, as population is sparse since there is no road access to the area. About five miles before the end of Jervis Inlet, it intersects with another four mile long inlet. This is the Princess Louisa Inlet and accessing it involves transiting the Malibu Rapids, the very narrow entrance, where the two inlets meet. As the tide rises and falls, there can be quite a bit of current, as well as overfalls.

We arrived at Malibu Rapids right before slack tide and announced on the VHF that Saviah was heading through the pass, which is the usual protocol since it would be dangerous to try to pass another vessel. Even at the reported slack time, we had a knot of current with us, and it was easy to see how this narrow passage could become treacherous with a full tidal current of nine knots gushing through it.

The last four miles to the head of the fjord were absolutely stunning. The narrow waterway is lined by cliff walls rising straight up and dozens of waterfalls cascading down. The Princess Louisa Marine Provincial Park controls the area and has provided a 200 foot long dock and a small campground at the end near Chatterbox Falls.

As we approached Chatterbox Falls, we were happy to see only a few boats on the dock, which is often full during the summer months. Saviah coasted alongside, and we had the best seat in the house with our stern facing the falls.

We spent the evening enjoying the view and the peacefulness of the park. The next day, we hiked up to the old trapper’s cabin above the falls. It was a strenuous one and a half hour hike nearly straight up, but the reward was a bird’s eye view of the inlet. By the time we returned to Saviah, only one other boat remained on the dock, and we had a great afternoon rowing around the inlet and enjoying the quiet wilderness. Late that afternoon, at slack tide, the next group of boats came in and quickly filled up the entire dock, just as it began to rain. We felt fortunate to have had a full day there with perfect weather and very few people. It is certainly one of the most beautiful places we’ve seen yet.

The next morning, we set off for Pender Harbor, 45 miles away. This time we passed through Malibu Rapids near low slack water. We were a little early, and the tide was flowing a few knots against us. This made for a stressful transit, as Andrew struggled to maintain steerage at times, and we got a little too close to shore. Once through the rapids, it was an uneventful trip, reaching the Fisherman’s Marina in Pender Harbor around 8 pm.

This was a quiet harbor, and we took care of some boat chores and did a nice hike up to the top of Pender Hill which afforded great views of the bay and islands. We spent two nights there and then set out across the Strait of Georgia to Vancouver Island. After a night in the Nanaimo marina, we moved over to a mooring buoy at nearby Newcastle Island. We then continued south, stopping at Silva Bay on the tip of Gabriola Island and then off to a small quiet anchorage between the Secretary islands. This was a small bay with not much room to swing, so we anchored out and tied a stern line to shore to keep the boat in place.

Pender Harbor, Newcastle Island, and anchorage between Secretary Islands

On June 30^th, we arrived in Ganges on Salt Spring Island and anchored out in the bay. Our plan was to stay only one night, but we decided to stay an additional day when we realized that July 1^st was Canada Day, and they had all sorts of festivities, including a car show and fireworks the next night.

The next stop was Montague Harbor, on the south east side of Galliano Island, where we picked up a mooring at the provincial park. Our friends Eric, Cristi, and their kids came up for a long weekend, and we had a great time buddy boating through the Gulf Islands, with stops at Otter Bay on North Pender Island, Lyall Harbor on Saturna Island, and Bedwell Harbor on South Pender Island.

From there, we returned to the San Juan Islands and cleared customs at Friday Harbor before moving on to Fisherman’s Bay on Lopez Island for a night. The bay is quite shallow, and we found an anchor spot in 12 feet of water just off the marina. The next morning, our friends headed back to Seattle, and we rented bikes and spent the day riding around the island. We departed early the next morning and had a really nice sail across the Strait of Juan de Fuca, arriving in Port Townsend that afternoon. It was exciting to return to one of our favorite ports in the Puget Sound.

We spent two nights there before starting our last leg back to Seattle on the morning of July 10^th. We had beautiful sunny weather for the 37 mile trip and arrived back at Elliott Bay Marina, near downtown Seattle, early that afternoon. The feeling was a little bittersweet after our great adventure. It is hard to believe that we barely knew how to sail four years ago, and since then, we covered 35,000 miles, crossing three oceans and visiting 30 countries.

Soon, we’ll have to start transitioning our lives from cruisers to landlubbers. It will be time to polish up our résumés, start the job search, and buy a car. But we can deal with those things later. For now, it is so good to be home!

California (2014)

2014-06-06T18:49:00.000-07:00

On the afternoon of March 12^th, Saviah went back in the water after a week in the boatyard at the Baja Naval Marina in Ensenada. A few hours later, just before sunset, we had everything stowed and pulled out of the harbor to make the 60 mile passage to San Diego. It was an uneventful trip, motor-sailing in the light NW winds and flat seas, and we arrived at the police docks in San Diego around 6 am. The customs officers arrived 30 minutes later and cleared us into the country. There was no boat inspection required, just a little bit of paperwork, and we were done. Saviah had officially returned to her home country.

After the sun came up, we set off for the familiar docks of the Harbor Island West Marina. We had done quite a bit of sightseeing on our previous stay three years ago, and this time our focus was on taking care of some boat projects. It had been a long time since we had been to a chandlery with the prices and selection available in the US, and we were looking forward to updating a few things. We did find time to spend a day walking along the waterfront and touring some of the classic sailing ships and the maritime museum as well.

marinas at Harbor Island, classic sailing ships on the San Diego waterfront

During our many trips to the chandleries, we bought new fire extinguishers and flares to replace our expired ones, a new strobe light, and many other odds and ends. We also needed to get some new charts and guidebooks since our journey up the coast would involve stopping often. Another project was to clean out the storage lockers and cubbies on Saviah to get rid of stuff we didn’t need and also swap out our anchors. Our primary anchor was still a 55 pound Delta that was too big for our boat and a pain to pull in by hand. Our backup was a knock off CQR that was the only one we could find in American Samoa, and we were never able to get it set. The flukes on our 35 pound Danforth were stuck in place, and no amount of pounding was able to break them loose enough to function properly.

We were excited to learn that Enterprise still has their $10/day weekend special, which we took advantage of several times going up the coast. We picked up a car, loaded up the trunk with boat stuff and drove around to several of the second hand stores, including the huge Minney’s store 90 miles north in Costa Mesa. We were able to trade our old anchors, charts, guidebooks and other stuff that we no longer needed. In the end, we ended up with a 45 pound Bruce anchor as a back-up and a 45 pound Delta for the primary, some extra cash and a lot of extra room in the boat. While we had the rental car, we drove out to Cabrillo National Monument on Point Loma to see the lighthouses and take in the views.

We spent a week in San Diego and then left on March 20^th at 5 am for the 80 mile sail to Catalina Island. Our speed wasn’t quite fast enough to make it to Two Harbors before the sun went down, so we took the first mooring buoy that we could find along the east side of the island. It took about 30 minutes to get all of the lines secured in the dark, and the next morning we untied to make the short hop up to Isthmus Cove.

This part of Catalina Island is very different from Avalon, the bustling harbor we visited three years ago on our way down the coast. The small town of Two Harbors is located on the narrow strip of land found between Isthmus Cove to the north and Catalina Harbor to the south. Since it is not far from LA, it can get crowded in the summer, but it was quiet during our stay, and in the offseason, you get five days on the moorings free when you pay for two.

Catalina Island

The weather was sunny and clear for our first few days, so we hiked around, exploring the many trails in the area. The island is quite steep and the trails along the ridgeline around 1,500 feet provided some great views. We could clearly see the California coast, 20 miles away. Unfortunately, the forecast didn’t look good for the coming days, so we took advantage of our last day of calm weather to make another hop up the coast. We had considered going to LA, but the transient dock at Marina Del Rey was under construction for the entire month, so we made the 85 mile sail to Santa Barbara instead.

Saviah slipped the mooring lines at 6 pm and arrived in Santa Barbara the next day around noon. The seasonal anchorage was closed until April 1^st, so we took a slip in the marina there. It was a bit expensive, so we hoped to stay for only a few days before continuing on our way. The next leg of our journey would be the 100 mile passage to Morro Bay, which involves rounding Point Conception, a notoriously windy point with rough seas. We needed a window of calm for this trip, and it became obvious that our wait would be much longer than the few days we had planned.

Santa Barbara marina

Other than the expensive marina, Santa Barbara is not a bad place to be stuck waiting for weather. It is a beautiful city with a paved coastal trail that goes for miles both east and west of the marina. The trail was perfect for running, and we made it part of our daily routine. There were nice beaches in both directions as well, and downtown was only a 20 minute walk away. We even rented a car again and drove through the Santa Ynez Valley, visiting the quaint towns and enjoying being off the boat for a couple of days.

Santa Barbara

We ended up staying in Santa Barbara for 11 days before we had a decent weather window and headed out at 4 am on April 3^rd. Our plan was to sail 40 miles to the Cojo Anchorage, just east and in the lee of Point Conception. We would then anchor there for the rest of the day and head off again at midnight to get around the point in the wee hours of the morning when conditions are usually the lightest.

Point Conception

As we neared the Cojo Anchorage, the seas were benign, and it didn’t make sense to stop. We continued up the coast monitoring the weather and rounded Point Conception at noon on a beautiful calm sunny day. We continually waited for the wind to increase and seas to build, but it just didn’t happen. The same calm conditions persisted for the remaining 60 miles to Morro Bay, although the temperatures are getting colder as we make our way north, especially after the sun sets. Night watches seem very long, and it is hard to stay warm, even wearing three jackets.

We arrived around midnight, and Di called the Coast Guard station to check the entrance conditions. With the all clear, we proceeded into the bay at high slack tide, dropped the hook in 15 feet, and got a good night’s sleep. We knew there was a large shoal area west of where we anchored that dries at low tide, but in the morning we were surprised to see how close it was. There was a bird standing on the ground about 30 feet from Saviah’s stern. We turned on the depth sounder and it registered around 6 feet, meaning there were only a few inches of water under the keel.

Since the tide was rising we weren’t concerned, but there just wasn’t much swinging room in the bay, which was crowded with boats on mooring buoys. If there was a good blow, we could get into trouble pretty quick. So we rowed into town, checked in with the harbor master, and then went down to the Morro Bay Yacht Club to talk to them about staying on a mooring buoy.

Morro Rock and Morro Bay

The Morro Bay Yacht Club has moorings available for transient boats, as well as hot showers, so we moved over later that afternoon. It was a good decision because the temperatures are getting colder and access to shore side facilities is hard to resist, especially without a water heater on board. The yacht club members were very welcoming and even invited us to join their Friday afternoon happy hour.

Morro Bay was a good stop for us. We enjoyed walking around town and on the beach that stretches for almost six miles north of Morro Rock (the 576 foot high volcanic plug that sits at the entrance of the harbor). We also spent some time rowing around in the protected bay where they have a dock, which is nearly sinking from the weight of all the sea lions. One of the babies was really interested in us and nearly boarded the dinghy. We also saw sea otters for the first time. There are dozens of them in the bay, and for much of the day, they can be found close to shore in the kelp beds. They wrap themselves up in the kelp so they can sleep without drifting off.

We stayed in Morro Bay for three days before there was another round of good weather offshore. We untied the mooring lines in the middle of the afternoon and made the 100 mile hop north to Monterey overnight. This was another nerve racking trip in dense fog that set in several hours out of port and only cleared when we neared Monterey around noon the next day. Shortly after the fog set in, one of two radar reflectors, which are mounted to the upper shrouds near the top of the mast, fell down and almost landed on Di in the cockpit. The hard plastic shattered into hundreds of sharp pieces and flew all over the boat, inside and outside. It was a close call, and we made it a priority to replace the cable ties securing the other radar reflector as soon as we were in port.

We took a slip in the Monterey Municipal Marina and really enjoyed our stay there. There is a coastal trail leading from the marina past the pier at Fisherman’s Wharf, with dozen of shops and restaurants, and then further to Cannery Row, where there was a huge fishery before the business collapsed in the 1950’s due to overfishing. Beyond that, the trail continued along to nearby Pacific Grove where the harbor seals and their pups lounged on the beaches and beautiful pink wildflowers lined the coast.

The marine life in Monterey Bay is prolific. In the middle of the bay is Monterey Canyon, one of the largest underwater canyons in the world, at over two miles deep in places. Its depth and nutrient availability provide an excellent environment for all sorts of whales, dolphins, seals, sea lions, otters, and others. There were sea otters swimming around Saviah in the marina and even lounging on the dock next to her.

After waiting for weather for a while with no window in sight, we rented a car to explore the coast. We drove through Big Sur, where Highway 1 winds high along the cliffs that drop straight down hundreds of feet into the ocean. Another day was spent visiting the north side of the bay to check out the town of Santa Cruz, with its beachfront amusement park. We then drove inland a bit so we could squeeze in a half-day hike in the Santa Cruz Mountains.

After almost two weeks in Monterey, we had a short weather window that would allow us to make the 65 mile sail to Half Moon Bay. It wasn’t ideal, but if we left in the middle of the night, we could take advantage of the calmer conditions and arrive before the next strong blow. We left Monterey at 2 am, motor-sailing with NW winds at 5-10 knots. As predicted, the large westerly swell from a storm system off Canada had finally made its way to the California coast. We started seeing long rolling 10-12 foot seas, and as we approached Half Moon Bay, the wind kicked up to NW 15-20.

The approach to the harbor has several reefs to be avoided, which were easy to see with the massive waves breaking on them. It was a bit nerve wracking approaching the entrance in the large swell, which was with us all the way to the harbor breakwall. Once we rounded the jetty, we reached the flat water of the harbor and doused the main, finding a good anchor spot just west of the marina breakwater. After the anchor was set, we unloaded the dinghy and rowed to shore to check out the town before the winds picked up. We made the four mile walk to town along the coastal trail. It was foggy and cold, but a beautiful trail with wildflowers starting to bloom.

Half Moon Bay

We spent four nights anchored out and then set off for San Francisco Bay on April 24^th. It was only a 25 mile trip to the Golden Gate Bridge and the protected waters of the bay. As soon as we weighed anchor at 5:30 am, a dense fog rolled into the bay, and we could no longer see the breakwater behind us, or even the navigation lights flashing on top of it. We let the anchor out again and waited an hour before it thinned out enough to see the harbor entrance. The winds and seas were fine, but the fog kept us on our toes throughout the trip. Around noon, we could see parts of the Golden Gate Bridge that was mostly shrouded in fog, but as soon as we passed under it, the skies cleared and the wind picked up to 15 knots from the NW. We unfurled the genoa and had a great sail through the bay.

Before leaving Half Moon Bay, we were weighing our options for moorage in the Bay Area, which can be really pricey, when Andrew saw an ad in a sailing magazine for the Brisbane Marina. We called and found out that it was only $10/day, the cheapest we have paid anywhere in the world. Since Andrew’s brother Adam was coming to visit and we would be staying for at least a week, we decided this would be a good place to stay. We sailed past San Francisco and then headed about 10 miles south of downtown.

Our arrival in Brisbane was a little off, and we transited the dredged channel at low tide. Our depth sounder read 6.3 feet, so Saviah’s keel was just barely above the mud bottom. The afternoon winds had kicked up to 20-25 knots, but luckily the 200 foot guest dock was empty giving us plenty of room to pull alongside and get settled. We liked the Brisbane Marina, which had all the amenities, but it was a long way from anything. It was a 40 minute walk just to get to the bus stop, so getting groceries was an all-day affair.

We were planning to rent a car for Adam’s visit, so we decided to just tack a couple days on to the beginning and run some errands. Other than grocery shopping, there was another boat project to do, which was upgrading our propane tanks. We weren’t aware until recently that our fiberglass propane tanks had been recalled and the company went out of business. We could still have them filled south of the border, but back in the US we weren’t having any luck and our propane was running low.

Since our propane locker was custom built for these unusually sized tanks, a conventional tank wouldn’t work, but we were able to find some steel tanks at the nearby West Marine that fit fairly well. Disposing of our old ones was a bit harder. None of the landfills would take them since we weren’t residents of the county. After dozens of phone calls, we eventually found a hazardous waste site about 15 miles south that would take the old ones and dropped them off.

We were looking forward to Adam’s visit, and he finally arrived on May 3^rd for a one week trip. He had never been to the Bay Area before and had a list of places he wanted to see in San Francisco and around the region. The day after he arrived, we headed south down the coast and stopped in Monterey, did the Seventeen Mile Drive through Pebble Beach and Carmel, and then continued along Highway 1 down the coast through Big Sur. We spent the night in San Simeon and the next morning did a tour of the Hearst Castle, which is the 90,000 square foot mansion built by William Randolph Hearst between 1919 and 1947.

Highway 1 along Big Sur, lone pine at Pebble Beach, Hearst Castle

After San Simeon, we headed back north to San Francisco to explore the city, visiting many of the well-known San Francisco icons, including Coit Tower, Lombard Street, Fisherman’s Wharf, Pier 39, Chinatown, and a few museums as well. The weather was fairly nice, so we did some hikes around the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.

The weather in the bay then took a turn to cloudy and rain, so we set off to drive inland through the Napa and Sonoma area north of the city. We had a beautiful drive through the vineyards and also made a stop in Muir Woods and Sausalito on the way back.

Napa Valley and Golden Gate Bridge

A week flew by, and after dropping Adam off at the airport, we reluctantly shifted out of tourist mode and into passage mode. We prepared Saviah for our next hop up the coast. The ports become fewer and farther between on this stretch, and we hoped to find a long window and cover as much ground as possible. Surprisingly, it was only a few days before we had what looked like a great window, and off we went with our target port Newport, Oregon, 470 miles away.

sailing out under Golden Gate Bridge, Bay Bridge and by Alcatraz Island and Point Bonita Lighthouse

Mexico (2013-2014)

2014-04-23T13:03:00.001-07:00

On November 5^th, after a few weeks in El Salvador, we left Bahia del Sol for the next leg north. Earlier that morning, we cleared out at the customs and immigration offices on-site and walked to the beach to check out the breakers in front of the estuary. They were big and steep, which made us a bit apprehensive, but it was low tide, and we wouldn’t be leaving until high tide late that afternoon.

On the way into the estuary, we had surfed down several decent size waves. It wasn’t so bad going with the waves, but going the opposite direction, it would have been rough. Fortunately, by the time high tide rolled around at 3 pm and we followed our pilot boat out, the swell had died down considerably. The waves were around five feet, but well-spaced and not really breaking, so it was actually less exciting than coming in. We followed the instructions from the pilot boat and before we knew it, the sand bar was behind us, and we set our course for Puerto Madero, Mexico, 250 miles away.

For most of the trip, winds were from the west at 5 knots, so we motor-sailed with just the main up. The current was against us, so our speed was slow at 4 knots, but it was a relatively pleasant passage as most of the nightly thunderstorms missed us. We neared Puerto Madero early on November 8^th, and the sun rose just was we entered the harbor. Saviah coasted into a slip at Marina Chiapas, happy to be back in Mexico.

The marina staff was very welcoming and called the Navy, who arrived an hour later to do their paperwork and quick inspection. We then checked in with the marina office, where the manager Enrique handled the rest of our clearance paperwork and even drove us to the airport later that afternoon to complete our immigration clearance.

Chiapas is the most southern state in Mexico, and Puerto Madero is a great place to enter the country for northbound vessels. The clearance process is easy, thanks to the marina’s help, and it is a great spot to wait for weather before tackling a potentially difficult next leg, which involves crossing the Gulf of Tehuantepec. The Tehuantepec is known for its blustery winds and dangerous sea state. From October to April, the gulf regularly has violent gales, referred to as Tehuantepecers. These are strong north winds that blow in from the Gulf of Mexico and funnel through the Chivela Pass, intensifying as they reach the Pacific. These strong winds reach hundreds of miles offshore, and create big, steep seas as they blow over the shallow gulf waters.

We downloaded weather forecasts daily, looking for the next available window. We debated about doing some more land travel, as there are many sites to see in Chiapas, including several large Mayan ruins and some colonial cities that we had heard good things about. We wanted to head north as soon as weather permitted, and decided it was better to hang around the boat to be ready. So we caught up on a few boat projects and did a lot of provisioning as well.

Although the nearest town is 30 miles away, the marina manager, Enrique, gave us a ride in during his trip home for lunch just about every day. There was a Super Walmart in town, and it had been a long time since we’ve been in a store with so much to choose from. It was nice to have so many options for meals again, and we stocked up. There was also a Home Depot nearby where we made one of our best purchases ever, a box fan. The heat here was almost unbearable, and the mosquitoes were really bad at night. Nights aboard Saviah were sweltering until we mounted the fan in the forward hatch. Even with all the mosquito netting up, the fan provided a good breeze through the boat, and it made a world of difference.

After a week in Chiapas, the 50-60 knot winds in the Tehuantepec died down, and the weather forecast showed a two-day window to cross in almost flat calm conditions. It was time to move on, so we checked out with the marina, had our departure inspection from the Navy, and set off on the 245 mile passage to the Bahias de Huatulco early on November 16^th.

There are two strategies for crossing the gulf, depending on the weather forecast. One strategy is to sail a direct course across when you have a solid forecast for at least two days of calm conditions. The other is the “one foot on the beach” method, which is the more commonly used strategy when there is uncertainty about the weather. This option would have us sail along the 30 foot contour line, except to clear a few headlands with shoals extending further offshore. By doing this, it increases the mileage, but if the wind starts to blow you can stay in relatively flat waters. It also means that we would be sailing VERY close to shore at night, where there are unlit hazards to deal with, especially fishing nets.

There was still a little uncertainty in the forecast, so we decided to do a modified one foot on the beach approach. Our course kept us about five miles offshore, and we monitored the weather continually, ready to alter course for shore at the first sign of strong winds. Since we were sailing so close to shore, we were able to get 3G service on our cell phone and download weather forecasts. This was a first, and it made the passage a lot less stressful. The winds were benign throughout the passage, and we had a favorable current for much of the trip as well. We arrived at Bahias de Huatulco earlier than expected and hove to for five hours until the sky began to lighten.

We decided to stop for fuel and rest and pulled into Marina Chauhue near Santa Cruz, just as the sun rose. After a couple days, we were off again for the 355 mile trip to Zihuatanejo. This three-day trip was an easy motor-sail in light winds, and we again arrived at night and hove-to for about five hours to wait for the sun to come up.

Years ago, Zihuatanejo was a sleepy fishing village. In the 70’s, the government decided to build a modern tourist resort town in Ixtapa, about three miles away. Since then, Zihuatanejo has grown rapidly, and now tourism is by far the largest industry. It has still managed to keep a traditional small town feel, and is built around a very well protected bay that is a popular stop for cruisers. We dropped the anchor in front of Playa Principal, the beach in front of the town center.

Zihuatanejo

We spent several days anchored in the bay and exploring the town. We walked to the central Mercado just about every day for fresh veggies. Like most of these markets, a wide variety of meats hang from hooks in the warm air. It is hard to imagine getting used to that smell. There were also restaurants in the market with really good cheap food, especially the chile rellenos, which we kept coming back for.

Central Mercado

After five days, we were running low on water and anxious to do a few projects that required shore power, so we moved up the coast to the marina at the touristy town of Ixtapa. The marina there is a little unusual in that there are crocodiles swimming around the fairways. Several crocodiles swam by Saviah just about every day, and it was a little nerve-wracking walking up the docks, just a foot above the water, knowing that these crocs could easily get up there. However, the only warnings we received were not to swim in the water. So far, no incidents with crocs taking people off the docks here like they do in Australia.

Marina Ixtapa, crocodile swimming behind Saviah

We didn’t care much for Ixtapa, which was just rows of hotels and shopping centers, but it was a nice place to do some cleaning and small maintenance jobs. After several days, it was time for a change of scenery, which we found at Isla Grande, just a few miles offshore. We motored around to the north side of the island and dropped the hook. It was clear water and a sand bottom, so we went for a quick swim and did some cleaning on the hull and the prop, which was past due. Then we rowed to shore for some lunch before heading back to the marina that afternoon.

Isla Grande

For months, we had been looking forward to a visit from our friends, who would be arriving that afternoon, so we buttoned up Saviah and took a cab back into Zihuatanejo. Eric and Chris flew in from Seattle and Vermont and had rented a nice condo overlooking the bay for a long weekend. We spent the next few days hanging out with them and playing tourist.

We did a fishing trip that left early one morning, dragging lines behind a small fishing boat. We basically just hung out on the boat taking in the scenery, and they would hand us the fishing rod if there was a bite. After a couple hours, we had three tuna, so we stopped for a snorkel, before our guides took us to a palapa on the beach where they cooked up the fish for us. We even took turns doing a parasailing trip back in the bay (all except Andrew).

As always, the time flew by, and we were bidding our friends goodbye. It was a great long weekend, and always lifts our spirits to see good friends. With our vacation time over, we shifted focus to the next leg of our voyage. The weather along this part of mainland Mexico is generally mild, dominated by the daily land and sea breezes, so we didn’t have to wait long for a window. In the wee hours of December 10^th, we set off on the 190 mile trip north and spent one uneventful night at sea before arriving in Manzanillo the next afternoon.

The anchorage here has been a very popular stop for cruisers over the years, because it is right in front of the large Las Hadas resort. They have a dinghy dock there and for years charged only $2 per day to tie up, and you got to use the resort facilities as well. Unfortunately, they just increased the price to around $15/day. We spent the morning walking around town and the afternoon hanging around the resort pool. One day was enough for us in Manzanillo, and the next morning we weighed anchor to head further north.

Our next stop up the coast was Bahia Tenacatita. It was another motorboat ride for all but the last five miles, which we were able to sail in the 15 knot NW winds. There were six other boats in the anchorage, and we found a nice spot in 15 feet to anchor. This was a good place to wait for a weather window for the next hop to La Cruz, 135 miles away. Although the weather is generally benign along this coast, the next leg involved rounding Cabo Corrientes, the point marking the southern end of Bahia de Banderas. Like all prominent high points that extend into prevailing winds, this cape accelerates the winds and often has confused seas generated by the strong currents flowing around it. The general rule of thumb is to round these capes in the early morning hours before sunrise to avoid the rougher conditions in late afternoon.

Despite growing tired of motoring, we watched the weather hoping for a window of calm in which to make this transit. We liked the anchorage here, as it was a quite protected bay with all sorts of marine life in the water. We were starting to get a little anxious to keep moving though as we had booked flights back to the US for Christmas. After three nights, we had a window that was less than ideal, but the best we would likely have for the next week, and we decided to go for it.

If we had known what lay ahead, we probably would have opted to stay in the anchorage for a few more days. Conditions started off comfortable with NW winds at 5-8 knots and calm seas. Nine hours later, the wind increased to 15-20, gusting 25, with the seas building to 4-6 feet from both the NW and NE. Saviah bashed along in the rough short period waves until we finally backed off the throttle a little to help with the motion. We still had 50 miles to go before we were around Cabo Corrientes, and it was going to be a long night.

Throughout the night, the winds shifted between NE and NW, but wind speed stayed at 15-20, gusting 25. On a downwind course, 4-6 foot seas would be no big deal, but these mixed up and short period waves made Saviah pound, pitch, and heave in the most uncomfortable motion we’ve ever experienced. Hand-steering and keeping watch was miserable, so we switched every hour in an attempt to stay rested. What made it even more frustrating was that we were only making 2 -3 knots.

Finally we rounded the cape around 7 am, and conditions gradually moderated until we were motoring in flat calm, having a hard time even keeping the main full. The last 20 miles across Banderas Bay to La Cruz were sunny and pleasant, no trace of the nasty conditions from just a few hours earlier. We saw whale after whale on our way, and breathed a big sigh of relief as we approached the marina. The last time we were here was two years and eight months earlier, when we left Mexico for the sail across the Pacific Ocean. Since then we have sailed over 28,000 miles, visiting 25 countries along the way. We tied up in the marina and celebrated officially completing a circumnavigation.

We arrived in La Cruz almost a week before our flights back to the US. Our time was spent cleaning and preparing Saviah for a month long stay in the marina, while we were away. We had lots of laundry to do as well. After our last bash to windward, we found that most of our clothes in the v-birth were soaked, and it was time to get our foul weather gear out again and clean off the mold. They would be needed soon as the weather was getting colder with each passage north.

We also needed to weigh our options for the last leg back to Seattle. The predominant winds blow from the northwest, all the way back up the coast. We wouldn’t want to bash against them, but we could hop slowly up the coast, waiting for calm conditions before motoring from port to port. This would involve many stops along the way and very little sailing. On the positive side, there are many places that we would like to see all along the coast, and since our plan isn’t to return to Seattle until the beginning of summer, we would have time to wait for the right weather windows.

The other option would be to sail out to Hawaii and then northeast to Seattle. This would involve only two long passages, the first would probably be pleasant, but the second half would be cold with less predictable weather. It would also be more than double the miles, although spending a month or two in Hawaii would not be such a bad thing. We would need a new genoa as well for this option since ours blew out in the Caribbean, and there would be a lot of downwind miles to Hawaii.

There would be time to research and weigh our options over the next month as we visited our families back home. On December 23^rd, we flew back to the states, making the usual stops in Texas and New Mexico and enjoyed spending time with our families again.

We returned to Saviah in mid-January and by that point had decided to get back to Seattle via a coastal hop rather than going to Hawaii. With this plan, patience is the name of the game, waiting for the right window and then being prepared to leave again when the next one opened. We did end up finding a genoa when Di ran into Mike at PV Sailing and found that he had several used sails that would work for Saviah. He gave us a really good price on one, and we took down our small heavy jib and put up the genoa, hoping we would have the opportunity to use it on the way back home.

Our next leg was the 290 miles from La Cruz to Cabo San Lucas, and after waiting for about a week, had a pleasant two day trip with very light winds and calm seas. We arrived just in time to tie up the boat, take a quick shower and find a place to watch the Super Bowl. Go Seahawks!

Our plan was to continue on our way whenever we could, spending as little time in Cabo as possible. Unfortunately the weather didn’t cooperate, and we ended up spending five days there. We decided to make the best of it and did a daily hike out to the beautiful beaches and massive rocks on the point at the south end of the bay. The snorkeling here is nice, too, but the warm tropical waters are apparently behind us, because it is now really cold. We braved the frigid water a few times since it would likely be our last snorkel for a while.

Since there are no anchorages between Cabo and Bahia Magdalena (commonly known as Mag Bay), we had to tackle the next 175 mile stretch in one leg. We had read that hugging the coast for the first day keeps you out of the larger seas, so we planned to give this a try. The forecast showed two days of calm, so we set out on February 7^th before dawn.

The forecast was right, and we enjoyed a nice trip motor-sailing in the NW 5 knot winds. Once we reached Cabo Tosca about 15 miles from the entrance to Mag Bay, the wind died altogether. Gray whales and dolphins escorted us the rest of the way in, with even more whales inside the bay than outside. We dropped the anchor in about 12 feet, just barely in the lee of Punta Belcher, where there was one other sailboat.

Shortly after we dropped the hook, the other boat, Bright Water, hailed us. Nancy invited us over for drinks, and we gladly accepted. Taking a shower before going over seemed like the right thing to do, and we found that the water here is even colder. We will have to be really desperate before taking another outdoor saltwater shower.

We had a great time chatting with Nancy and Phil, who were heading south, but had ventured back north to Mag Bay to see the whales again. As we later learned, these two had taken their children on a great adventure in the Caribbean, and have written a book about their travels. We spent several nights swapping stories, and had a great time hanging out with them.

Mag Bay turned out to be a nice three day stop for us. The bay was filled with gray whales, breaching all the time, and there was some good walking along the beaches and in the nearby hills. We were on the other side of the bay from the small town of Puerto San Carlos, with nothing around except a small fish camp, so it was quiet.

After three nights in Mag Bay, the forecast showed what looked like an unusually long period of calm weather. Possibly as many as five days in a row would begin the following morning. We decided to make the 20 mile sail to Bahia Santa Maria that afternoon, which is on the outside of Mag Bay. We spent the night at anchor there to give us a head start the next morning when the sun came up. On February 12^th we headed out, hoping to at least make it to Turtle Bay, 260 miles to the northwest, where we could take on fuel.

There was no wind at all the first day, and the seas died down until they were nearly flat. With only slightly more wind the following day, we continued to put more hours on our engine, but were thankful for the otherwise comfortable conditions. By 8:30 am on February 14^th, we pulled into Turtle Bay to take on fuel. This is a nice protected anchorage and a good spot to rest and wait for weather, but the window looked like it would hold for another couple days. So after we filled up our fuel tank, we headed further north. Bahia San Quintin was 183 miles away, and we hoped to make it there in 36 hours.

As we left Turtle Bay, gray whales were again our companions. We saw hundreds of these massive creatures on our way up the coast. Apparently there are over 20,000 of them that travel between Alaska and Baja California Sur. They leave in October and it takes two to three months to get down to the Baja peninsula, where the females give birth and nurse in the warmer water, before heading back north again. The annual round trip is 10 – 14 thousand miles. It is amazing to see these animals up close, but not too close since they get up to 50 feet long.

Our course from Turtle Bay took us by Cedros Island as daylight faded and the full moon rose. Conditions were calm until we reached the north end of Cedros, and the winds kicked up to NW 15. It was a rough ride for most of the night, and by the early morning hours a dense fog rolled in, reducing our visibility to less than 100 yards. It’s quite unnerving to be sailing blind in the fog, especially without radar.

Since the person on watch was standing and constantly looking around, which can be tiring after a while, we started alternating one hour on and one hour off. Around noon, the fog cleared and we had a few hours of sunshine, but we could see another massive fog bank up ahead and knew we were not in the clear yet. This fog enveloped us and was even worse than before, and we couldn’t get to San Quintin fast enough. The calm weather was forecast to continue for at least another day, and we wanted to keep going, but the fog was so bad we could hardly see the bow of the boat.

Finally, around midnight, we started our slow approach to San Quintin. The bay is quite large with plenty of room for anchoring, and the approach is clear of hazards. We inched our way forward to the recommended anchorage, and dropped the hook when our depth got to about 18 feet. It was eerily quiet when we killed the engine, and we let out a huge sigh of relief to have arrived without incident.

The next morning, we woke early to more fog, and our discussions turned to the weather. The forecast looked good for making Ensenada, only 110 miles away, and after that it would be blowing hard for the next five or six days. A few hours later the fog lifted, and we could see the shore for the first time, and it was surprising to see how far out we were. We didn’t like the idea of making this leg in the fog, but we also didn’t want to be stuck here for another week, so we decided to keep going.

We motor-sailed along in the 5 knot westerly winds for most of the day. Around sunset, the fog made its appearance, but was not as thick as the previous night. This time we saw lights from other boats, for brief periods of time, and then the fog would become very dense, and they would disappear again. It was truly terrifying to proceed in these conditions, knowing there were other boats nearby. We took turns steering and keeping a look out every hour, by far one of our most stressful watch-keeping nights of the journey.

Finally around 6 am, the fog began to lift, and visibility improved. By the time we got to Ensenada, it was a clear and sunny day. We entered the harbor and got a slip at the Baja Naval Marina. It was a relief to have the long trip up the Baja coast behind us. Other than the fog, we were fairly lucky with the weather. It only took us 11 days to make the 750 miles from Cabo San Lucas to Ensenada, and we only had to spend four nights in port to avoid head winds. We weren’t sure how long we would be in Ensenada, which is only 60 miles from San Diego. This would be our last stop in Mexico and the place we would clear out of the country.

Our next priority was to have the boat hauled out for bottom paint and several other projects that needed to be done out of the water. We also had been shopping for boat insurance for a while. We haven’t had hull coverage since leaving Seattle because coverage for going offshore made it cost prohibitive. Since we were now just coastal hopping up the coast of the US, the quotes we received were reasonable again. But first we had to have the boat inspected by a surveyor, something that would need to be done out of the water.

We were planning on doing all of this in San Diego, but discovered that it was significantly cheaper across the border in Mexico. We found we liked Ensenada, the boatyard was very close to downtown, and they had showers at the boatyard, so we could live aboard. This would save us even more money, so we decided to haul out here instead. We were also able to find a surveyor from San Diego that was willing to drive down for the inspection.

As always, when you haul out, there is some problem that you don’t foresee. In our case, the cutlass bearing, was worn down a bit, and we were able to grab the propeller shaft and move it around a little bit. It wasn’t a big job to have it replaced, but one downside to doing the work in Mexico is that it is often difficult to get specialty boat parts. Someone at the boatyard makes the drive up to San Diego a couple times a week to pick up parts, but this process usually means more days in the yard. Especially, when they forget to pick up your part on Thursday and then aren’t going back up until the next Tuesday.

So we ended up staying a little longer in the yard than we wanted. It wasn’t too bad though, as we kept busy working on stuff that had been put off for a while. Andrew did lots of sanding, varnishing, and polishing, taking advantage of the dry climate and sunshine. It was also time to address some sources of water intrusion. He took care of patching a few leaks in the teak decks and rebedded our portlight screws and chainplates that had also started to leak. The boatyard had to do all work below the water line, so we had them remove and fiberglass over three thru hulls that we no longer needed with a single saltwater intake system that Andrew plumbed. Di cleaned the interior from top to bottom, and sifted through every cubby to pull out any items we no longer needed and hoped to sell to other cruisers while in San Diego. Our survey went well and the only issues were expired fire extinguishers and flares which we could replace once we got back to the US. This allowed us to get insurance again, which was a big relief.

After eight days in the yard, Saviah went back into the water on March 12^th, and we rushed around to the various offices to check out of the country. That evening, about an hour before the sun went down, we motored out of the bay and started the 60 mile trip up to San Diego.

Central America (2013)

2014-03-01T18:41:00.000-08:00

We set off from Panama City on October 9^th to begin our voyage up the west coast of Central America. We weren’t sure what to expect in terms of weather as the grib files showed little to no wind all the way up to Mexico. The coastal land and sea breezes, which don’t show up on these offshore forecasts, might allow us to sail some, but we couldn’t count on them. There are several ports along the coast where we could take on fuel and get some rest if needed, so we decided to just play it by ear in terms of when and where we would stop. We hoped to eke out enough mileage to at least make it to northern Costa Rica, 550 miles away, on our first leg.

The course from Panama City took us first south toward Punta Mala, and conditions were beautiful with winds NW 12-15 and flat seas. This was short-lived, and only eight hours later, we had to fire up the engine and motor sail. The winds were right on our nose as we rounded Punta Mala, and we bashed into five foot seas for the next 12 hours.

During day two, the seas calmed, and the wind was WSW at 5 knots, just off the nose enough to motor sail as we began to turn slightly to the NW. As we neared Costa Rica, our speed increased thanks to a boost from the current. This allowed us to run the engine at a lower RPM and still average 5.5 knots, meaning our fuel should last longer. Nonetheless, we set our course for Marina Papagayo to be on the safe side and top off our diesel. Although the sailing so far was lousy, after several months in the Caribbean, it was nice to be back in the Pacific again, where the sea life is abundant. Fish and rays jumped out of the water all around us, dolphins played near the bow of the boat, and we saw plenty of turtles and sea snakes in the water as well. It was time to do a little fishing, and Andrew caught a small tuna shortly after he put the line in the water.

The weather was the same every day. Hot with clear skies during the day, and then clouds would start to fill in just in time for a beautiful sunset. A few hours later thunderstorms began to roll out to sea, and our night watches were spent trying to avoid them and crossing our fingers that the lightning would miss us.

The morning of day four was the by far the most frightening squall we’ve experienced. Of course, it hit when we near a fishing boat, the only other boat we had seen since Panama City. We were motor-sailing with a double-reefed main when the winds kicked up to 40 knots and sheets of rain pelted the decks. We quickly lost sight of the fishing boat or anything else past 50 yards. Lightning was crashing down all around us, with deafening cracks of thunder sounding instantly, verifying just how close those bolts were to us. We left the engine running in forward, with just enough speed to keep our bow into the wind and fore reach slowly, while we both cowered on the cabin sole hoping to avoid arcing bolts of lightning if Saviah was struck. An hour later, the skies cleared, and we could breathe easier until the next evening.

After four days, we rounded the northwest coast of Costa Rica and into the Golfo de Papagayo. We only had so much time to spend in Central America, and if the weather was good, our plan was to skip Costa Rica all together. There are some amazing sites to see in the country, but it is really expensive, there are reports of crime in many of the anchorages, and clearing in and out is a hassle. We hoped to make a quick stop at the fuel dock to top up our fuel tanks and continue on to El Salvador.

We hailed Marina Papagayo on the VHF and asked if we could take on fuel. They said we would need to clear into the country first before we could take on fuel. The nearest port that could do customs clearance was El Coco, 5 miles away, where we would have to anchor out and row in, walk around to all the offices and pay hundreds of dollars. Clearance here is an all-day process, leaving Saviah unattended in an anchorage with a history of boat break-ins while owners are on shore. The marina also told us there would be a 48-hour quarantine, apparently a new regulation, and after that we would be allowed to take on fuel. Then we would need a repeat trip to El Coco, walk around to the offices, and pay more money to check out.

This was going to cost us several days and quite a bit of money, just to get fuel. Because of such a favorable current, we still had an eighth of a tank of fuel left. We wouldn’t make it to El Salvador, but there is a marina and fuel dock in northern Nicaragua, 150 miles away. If the calm seas and favorable current continued, and we had a little wind, we could make it.

We crossed the Gulf of Papagayo in flat calm conditions, and by sunset, we were sailing as the NE winds filled in at 10-15 knots. It only lasted six hours but did save us some fuel. The next day we kept the RPM’s low as we motor-sailed slowly along the coast of Nicaragua, enjoying views of the dozens of volcanoes that line the Pacific Coast.

We approached the narrow entrance to the estuary in northwest Nicaragua where the Marina Puesta Del Sol is located, just as the sun was going down and with the engine running on fumes. If we were 20 minutes later, we wouldn’t have had enough light to make the entrance. We followed the channel markers into the marina as the last of the twilight faded. It was nice to be back in port again. We enjoyed burgers at the restaurant before crashing hard, exhausted after our six day passage.

The marina is part of a nice resort with several pools, a private beach and a restaurant. There were no other guests in the marina or at the resort, so we had the place to ourselves and access to all of the amenities. The staff was very helpful and the morning after we arrived, they arranged for customs and immigration officials to drive out from another town to clear us in right at the marina. This was much easier and significantly less costly than Costa Rica.

We decided to do some land travel, and the first thing on the list was to hike up one of the nearby volcanos. Unfortunately, the trails were closed for the rainy season, so we opted for a quick trip into the city of Leon instead. We took a cab into nearby Chinandega and from there we caught the bus to Leon, a colonial city a couple hours away.

Leon was founded in 1524 and was the capital of Nicaragua until 1857. There are quite a few historic buildings and churches here, including the main cathedral, which is the biggest in Central America. There are supposed to be a couple of good museums, which were closed for renovation during our stay, but we still enjoyed walking around and checking out the town, happy to be off the boat for a little while.

After a few days, we caught the bus back to Chinandega, where we had to change bus terminals. Unsure of the terminal location or which bus to catch, we were lucky to recognize one of the resort employees and asked if we could tag along. She got on one of the bicycle taxis and we joined her. These three wheel bicycle taxis were a main form of transportation in Leon as well. It felt strange and very lazy for the three of us to be peddled across town on the front of a bike, but that is the way people here get around.

Back aboard Saviah, we were ready to move on and checked the weather, which looked fine for another leg north. Although the marina was nice, it was also a bit isolated. There isn’t a town nearby, so no place to get groceries, and there were no other cruisers to hang out with. So we had the marina call the customs guys back to clear us out, did some laundry and topped off our fuel tanks. We got our papers around 4 pm and, set sail for Bahia del Sol, El Salvador, 107 miles away.

A few hours later, we found ourselves in the middle of a squall with 30 knots of SE wind, lightning, and choppy seas. It only lasted two hours, but the choppy seas stayed with us for several hours, causing us to roll heavily with no wind to keep our sails full. After that, it was an uneventful trip, and we made it to the harbor entrance at 3 pm, an hour before high tide.

Our late afternoon departure from Nicaragua was coordinated with the high tide in Bahia del Sol at 4 pm. Since the entrance to the protected estuary involves crossing a sand bar with a 12 foot deep channel that moves during the year, it must be done at high tide and with a local pilot that guides you in. When we were just outside the estuary, we radioed the marina and requested a pilot boat. It was about an hour before high tide, and we drifted in front of the large breakers guarding the entrance. They looked daunting, and we didn’t see any indication of a channel.

Around 4:30 pm, the pilot boat arrived, and we battened down all the hatches and portlights. Andrew manned the helm, while Di communicated with the pilot on the VHF. We sat just beyond the breaking waves for a few minutes, while the pilot watched the wave sets, looking for a group of smaller waves. Fast powerboats can get over the sandbar between waves, but these waves will catch us over the course of the transit and so it is best to wait for a smaller set.

The pilot gave us some general instructions and after a few minutes told us to follow him forward at full throttle. Andrew pushed the engine up to 2,500 RPMs to keep our speed up. Six waves caught us during our bar crossing, and Saviah rose up the front side and surfed down the back. It was a bit of a fight to keep her perpendicular to the waves so we wouldn’t get knocked over, but Andrew did a nice job of holding our course, and it was a big relief to have crossed the bar and reach the flat waters of the estuary. Of course, getting in is the easy part, and we wondered what it would be like going into the waves on the way out.

We motored another half mile into the estuary and pulled into a slip at the marina. We were welcomed by a big group of people, including marina staff, the port captain, an immigration officer, Bill who heads up the El Salvador Rally and several other cruisers as well. The first order of business was to complete our clearance, which was quick and easy with the officials located on site.

It was slack tide when we arrived, so in the middle of the night, we were surprised to wake to the sound of rushing water. When we looked outside, the water was flowing so fast by the docks that it sounded like rapids. We later heard that the current reaches up to 4 knots in the estuary. We were glad to be tied up to the dock. Although there is a decent anchorage in the estuary, getting to and from shore would have been a real chore in that current with no outboard on our dinghy. The marina was also relatively inexpensive and a good spot to leave the boat for some inland travel that we were planning.

The marina in Bahia del Sol is also part of a resort, and we again had access to all the amenities like pools and restaurants. We spent our first week working on a few boat projects, cooling off at the pool, and planning our inland trip. There was also a good group of cruisers there that met at the pool every afternoon, and we enjoyed hanging out with them.

After a week in the marina, we packed our backpacks and headed off on the bus to San Salvador. This was supposed to be a short stop before catching another bus into Honduras, but we had the first of many scheduling problems on this trip. The bus we were planning on taking wouldn’t arrive for another couple days, so we decided to make the most of it and look around the city.

San Salvador is the capital of El Salvador and has a population of around 1.8 million people. Pollution is pretty bad here, and crime is also a major problem. It wasn’t very high on our list of places to visit, but we decided to see the sites since we had time to kill. Our hotel was half a mile away from the downtown area, so we walked over to check out the Plaza Barrios with the Catedral Metropolitana across the street. We also walked around the nearby Plaza Libertad and spent some time at the Central Mercado a few blocks away. Here you can get just about anything from the hundreds of little stalls that line the streets. We definitely stood out like a sore thumb. People looked at us like they had never seen another tourist before, and we didn’t see any others while we were there. After a few hours, we had enough and decided to see some of the sites outside the city.

San Salvador

Just outside of town, there are ruins from two ancient Mayan cities. There was an English speaking taxi driver that was recommended by some other cruisers, and we arranged with him ahead of time to take us around. On our arrival, we were told it was his day off. We bartered for a while with a few other drivers and eventually found one to take us for a reasonable price.

Our first stop was Joya de Cerén, a small settlement that was buried under ash in AD 595, after the eruption of a nearby volcano. There was a small museum there that did a good job of documenting the history of the place and had some interesting artifacts as well. The actual site itself was not much to see. There were some small structures that had been uncovered by archaeologists, but they were fenced off and you couldn’t get very close. So after about half an hour of walking around, we were off again.

The next stop was the Ruinas de San Andrés, another Mayan settlement. We were more optimistic about this site, which was occupied from AD 600-900 and once was the home for 12,000 people. It was only recently discovered in 1977, when a large courtyard with a subterranean section was unearthed. Unfortunately, this site was also a little disappointing. It turns out that the subterranean section was closed off and most of the structures are still buried. So, it was back to the hotel after a not so exciting day of sightseeing.

Joya de Cerén and Ruines de San Andrés

The next day, we hired another taxi and headed about ten miles outside of town to see the Puerta del Diablo (Devil’s Door) and the small nearby town of Panchimalco. Puerta Del Diablo is two giant boulders with several trails for hiking. From the top, there were great views of the surrounding volcanoes and all the way to the Pacific Ocean. We spent an hour hiking and were a bit surprised when our taxi driver decided to hike with us. He had on dress shoes, slacks and a white shirt, not a good combination for these muddy trails.

After the hike we went into nearby Panchimalco, a historic town established by the Spanish in the 18^th century and occupied mostly by descendants of indigenous Pipil Indians. Once again, our taxi driver wouldn’t leave our side and stayed with us as we toured a small museum and an old church. He explained that the area is dangerous and wanted to make sure we were safe. On the way back, we passed many pupuserias lining the street and stopped at one of the most well-known ones for lunch. At these stands they make pupusas, which are thick corn or rice tortillas, stuffed with cheese, beans, and/or meat and are the national dish of El Salvador. We ate these almost every day during our stay.

After a few days, we caught our shuttle to Copan. We had the comfortable van all to ourselves, and the trip took about five hours including a couple of stops. One stop to clear out of El Salvador and into Guatemala, and another to clear out of Guatemala and into Honduras. We would have to repeat this procedure in reverse on the way back. At this point, we grew a little nervous about our passports, since we don’t have a big enough blank space for another stamp and we would need at least ten more. We worried a little about this causing problems on border crossings. Immigration officials were telling us we needed more pages, but so far they were willing to just stamp right over the others. Hopefully this will continue.

We arrived in Copan Ruinas late that afternoon, and our shuttle dropped us off at our hostel just in time for dinner. We instantly liked the small hilly town, with cobblestone streets and adobe buildings. It was only a ten minute walk from the Mayan ruins, and we looked forward to exploring more on foot the next day.

Copán Ruinas

The next morning we rose early and walked to the Copán ruins. The city was founded when one of the royal Mayan families settled in the area around AD 426 and remained the site of one of the most important Mayan civilizations for nearly four centuries afterword. At its peak, there were around 20,000 people living in the 3,000 + structures around the main site. It was eventually abandoned and reclaimed by the jungle for reasons unknown.

We had the place virtually to ourselves and spent most of the day walking around the ruins and looking at the many statues and hieroglyphics. Many of structures are well preserved, although some have giant trees growing out of the sides, and roots that have caused all sorts of damage.

The next day we came back again and hired a guide for a short tour of the tunnels that run through a few of the structures. These tunnels were dug by archeologists to see and study the different layers underneath. It was really interesting and he explained how each of the 16 kings that ruled the city was supposed to build over the remains of the previous city, completely covering the old structures. As the structures became larger and larger, it took longer for the new king to build his city. On a few occasions, the new king didn’t live very long, and they simply didn’t have time to rebuild.

Visiting the ruins was definitely a highlight of our time in Central America. After a few days of walking around the site, we decided to hop on a mototaxi and check out nearby Macaw Mountain. This is a bird sanctuary just outside of town where they have all sorts of local birds.

The sanctuary takes care of rescued, abandoned and endangered birds, some of which are eventually released out into the wild again. They had lots of macaws, toucans, parrots, parakeets and many others. Some of the birds are allowed out of their cages at feeding time and we happened to walk by just in time. One of the guys from the park asked Di if she wanted to hold a couple of the birds and pose for a photo.

After three days in Copan, we were due to catch an early shuttle back to San Salvador the next day. Unfortunately, for lunch that day we picked the wrong place to enjoy some baleadas. This is a Honduran staple with beans and/or meat in a flour tortilla, folded in a half and fried. Later that night we both ended up with food poisoning. This was actually only the second time for us to get sick, three and a half years into our trip, which isn’t too bad.

When the bus driver showed up at 4 am, we were too sick to even consider getting in a vehicle. The next day, we looked for another bus to San Salvador, but learned that there wasn’t one for another four days. We did find another one going to Antigua, Guatemala leaving in two days. Even though this was the wrong direction, they had daily busses from Antigua to San Salvador and it would end up being faster. So we spent the next couple days recovering and then headed west to Guatemala.

We really enjoyed traveling in the small tourist vans that go from place to place around Central America, and are both cheap and comfortable. The weekend we left was the Dia de las Muertas (Day of the Dead), which people celebrate in this part of the world to honor their ancestors. We passed several cemeteries, which were packed with families gathered around gravesites. A few hours after we left, we passed through the capital, Guatemala City and then on to nearby Antigua.

We arrived after dark and had a hard time finding the hostel where we had reservations. Antigua is cold after sunset, and since it was an unplanned stop, so we didn’t have much for warm clothes. After wandering around for about 30 minutes we finally found our hostel, but they had rented our room and didn’t have anything else available. The manager walked us to the house next door where the family had a room in the back for rent. It was not ideal, especially since they didn’t have hot water, but it was late and we didn’t feel like going door to door looking for another place to stay.

The next morning, we set out to see the city. We had a full day there before our bus left for El Salvador the following morning, and we wanted to see as much of it as we could. The city has an interesting history. It was founded 1543, and served as the colonial capital for 233 years until it was transferred to Guatemala City in 1776. The move was due to an earthquake in 1773 that destroyed much of the city. The town was slowly rebuilt, retaining much of its traditional character, but there are still a few building that are ruins.

Antigua’s setting is gorgeous, nestled between three volcanoes. Most of the buildings that line the cobblestone streets were constructed during the 17th and 18th centuries, when the city was a rich Spanish outpost. Many of them have been well preserved and there are also several impressive ruins from the earthquake that are open to the public.

We spent most of our time walking around and hanging out in the Parque Central, which was a nice place for people watching. It was especially interesting to see the villagers that come into town to sell their crafts. Mostly, these where Mayan women wearing colorful traditional clothes and bringing in their handmade textiles to sell. In fact, the majority of Guatemala’s population is Mayan, and many of them still where the traditional dress and speak one of about 20 different Mayan languages.

We liked Antigua and could have easily stayed another couple days, but it was time to get back to the boat. We took another small tourist van for the trip to La Libertad, El Salvador. This area is on the coast and a popular spot for backpackers who like to surf. After the rest of the passengers were dropped off, our driver took us to a bus stop where we would need to take local busses for the last stretch to the marina.

These were very crowded chicken busses, which are basically old school busses painted in crazy colors with horns blaring. There were even guys sitting on the roof to take your large luggage and give it back to you when you reached your destination. There is always room for one more, and just when you think you think there isn’t enough room for one more, another five passengers get in. Our first bus was to Comalapa, about 15 miles away, and we stood for the 45 minute trip on a bus with three times more passengers than seats.

After that, we waited on a busy corner in Comalapa for about an hour for our next bus. It was definitely interesting watching the comings and goings in this town. The street vendors hop on every bus that stops and try for a few minutes to sell their goods to people on these busses, before jumping off down the road and walking back for the next one. There were also the delivery drivers who were heavily armed, even if it was just a small soda delivery truck. Actually El Salvador is definitely the most gun loving country we’ve visited. There were machine gun wielding guards at just about every building, as well as people who just had pistols tucked into their pants, no holster necessary.

We finally reached the marina 12 hours after leaving Antigua and were happy to be back aboard Saviah. The next day we checked the weather, which looked good for several days. The marina was busy preparing for a sport fishing tournament, and we would have to vacate our slip in a few days anyway, so we decided to get moving. We checked out of the country with the customs and immigration guys and coordinated with the pilot boat for leaving the estuary at high tide that afternoon. We scrambled to get everything stowed and on November 5^th, we bid farewell to El Salvador and headed out for the 250 mile trip to Mexico.

Panama (2013)

2013-12-05T09:54:00.001-08:00

We set out from Santa Marta, Colombia early on September 10^th to make the 286 mile trip to the San Blas islands of Panama. After watching the weather for several weeks prior, we came to the realization that there would be little sailing on this passage. During this time of year, the trade winds just don’t make it this far west. The best we could hope for was flat seas, a favorable current and a quick two day trip.

We were able to maintain 6 knots for the first few hours, but then our speed started going down. By noon, it was down to a measly 3-4 knots with a light 5 knot breeze right on the nose. During the first night, there was a lightning storm off on the horizon. It turns out this would be the case every night for the next three months. Conditions would be generally clear and sunny during the day, and then as the sun was setting, thunderheads loomed overhead. We were fortunate to miss most of them and their many lightning bolts, but it made every night watch more intense.

In preparation for this, we had our jumper cables attached to the shrouds and stays that we could drop in the water to help with the grounding, and we stowed our computer, spare GPS and handheld VHF in the oven. In theory, the oven would act as a Faraday cage and protect those electronics if we were struck by lightning.

Early the next morning, before the sun rose, we started to see a string of lights on the horizon in front of us. This is a busy shipping route, with freighters coming across from the Panama Canal regularly, but these did not appear to be moving. When the sun was up, we could see seven large warships lined up in front of us. We passed each one, and they disappeared behind us, only to appear in front of us again a few hours later. Several helicopters circled the boat, and a plane made a few passes as well. We could hear them on the radio, and they were US warships. One of them followed us for an hour or so, but never attempted to make contact on the radio.

During our first 24 hours, we made only 89 miles. By the second night, our speed was down even further to 2-3 knots thanks to a ten knot head wind and a little bit of swell that we were motoring into. We started to wonder if our problems were due to countercurrent, or if the hull and prop were just really dirty from sitting in the marina for a month. Andrew debated going overboard and giving the prop a quick scrub, but first we decided to stop the engine and see how strong the current was. We coasted to a stop and then started drifting NE at 2 knots. The problem was definitely the current and a quick calculation showed that we would be well short of the San Blas islands before running out of fuel. The forecast showed more of the same, and we wouldn’t be able to make any headway under sail with a light headwind and two knots of current against us. So we decided to alter course and make a detour to Cartagena, 53 miles away in the wrong direction.

The next morning we were just outside Cartagena at sunrise. Rather than go all the way around Isla de Tierra Bomba, we decided to take a 12 mile shortcut to the inner harbor by going between the island and Bocagrande. This route involves going over a one-mile long undersea wall that was built between the two land masses in the 18^th century to protect the city from siege. Ships still can’t go over the wall, but shallow draft vessels can pass over it in a certain area. It made us a little nervous, but as we went over it, the depth sounder never showed less than 10 feet. A few days later we met some sailors that attempted to go over it in a boat with only six inches deeper draft, and they hit the wall twice before turning around and going around Isla de Tierra Bomba.

Since we had been to Cartagena a few weeks before, we were relatively familiar with the harbor and had a general idea where to take on fuel. We hoped that since we had already cleared out of the country, they wouldn’t ask to see our papers at the fuel dock. It would have been really annoying (and expensive) if we were stuck in Cartagena for a week just clearing in and out so we could take on fuel. Fortunately, nobody asked, and we filled up and headed out. Less than an hour later, we were clear of the undersea wall and again on our way to the San Blas islands.

Just outside Cartagena, more warships dotted the horizon. We passed through a group of four much smaller ships, and later that afternoon they hailed us on the VHF. This time it was the Colombian Coast Guard who was apparently doing exercises with the US Military. They told us to clear the area as another fleet of warships would be passing through in a few hours. We told them that the 3.5 knots we were going was our maximum speed, but we would keep a look out.

The next day, Andrew spotted a suspicious looking boat on the horizon, towing a dinghy behind. We became especially concerned when it passed by a couple hundred feet away and then turned around to follow us. We had read about some very crudely built wooden boats that are used by the Colombians to trade with the Kuna Indians in San Blas, and thought maybe it was one of those. We increased the RPM’s a little and kept on eye on them. The boat seemed very heavy and we thought maybe we could outrun it, but they were towing a big dinghy with an outboard. This seemed especially strange since we were over a hundred miles from land. It was a stressful few hours, but eventually they disappeared on the horizon behind us.

It took twice as long as planned, but after four days, the San Blas islands were in our sights. This archipelago stretches 110 miles along the coast of Panama. There are 378 islands in the group, of which only 49 are inhabited. They are beautiful low lying islands with white sand beaches, and we were happy to be there. Our first stop was in the Holandes Cays, where we dropped the anchor in ten feet of crystal clear water surrounded by little islands on all sides.

Shortly after we were settled, a couple of Kunas paddled up in their ulu (dugout canoe), to sell lobster (5$) or fish (2$). Fresh lobster for lunch is a great way to celebrate a landfall. The Kunas come out from the mainland, or other inhabited islands in the area to pick coconuts, fish or collect conch, lobster, crabs and other seafood. They arrived in the area several hundred years ago when they fled from mainland Panama during the Spanish invasion. The territory they now occupy, which also includes the rainforest along the coast is called Kuna Yala, and although it is officially part of Panama, it is ruled autonomously by the Kuna Indians. There are about 50,000 of them, and they live mostly the same way they have for many years.

mola

In addition to the men selling their catch of the day, women would paddle out to sell molas. The word mola means clothing in the Kuna language, and the blouses the women wear are made by cutting and sewing different layers of cloth together. Each color in the design is made from another piece of cloth and some of the ones we saw would have seven or eight layers sewn together. They now sell these mola panels to tourist, and they would come and lay them out all over the decks so we could see them.

In our first anchorage, we met Gene and Celia aboard Last Laugh, who we enjoyed hanging out with. Gene showed Andrew how to clean conch, which we had never done before, and made a really good ceviche with it. There was plenty of conch in the various anchorages, or you could buy it from the Kuna’s for a couple dollars. We bought one and made some delicious conch tacos, although cleaning these bizarre looking slimy creatures can be very messy.

a Kuna using a machete to crack open the conch, which we cooked for dinner

A few days later, we were happy to see our friends aboard Vanish as we pulled into the Coco Bandero Cays anchorage. We met Maynard, Vicki, and Mike in Colombia, and had hoped we would see them again in the islands. Vanish is a 76 foot motor yacht, and they were kind enough to host us for dinner and drinks in the refreshing air conditioned cabin. They also replenished our depleted water supply with 30 gallons of water from their water maker, which meant we could stay and play in the islands longer than we had planned.

During our time in the San Blas, we anchored in five or six different spots. It is definitely the quiet time of year here, and we often had anchorages to ourselves. It was nice to have some swinging room during the squalls when the winds picked up. The lightning was a daily feature, but thankfully only a few squalls brought scary lightning bolts and deafening cracks of thunder where we cowered down below hoping we would not be hit. One boat was hit in an anchorage near us, but they didn’t have any damage.

There were so many reefs and places to snorkel here that we never hit the same spot twice. There was some impressive coral, but like most of the Caribbean that we saw, not many fish. We did see lots of rays though, especially our favorite, the spotted eagle rays which were all over the place.

After ten days in San Blas, we went to the island of Porvenir to officially clear into the country. We heard that clearing immigration and getting a cruising permit was much easier and cheaper than on the mainland. After we cleared in, we headed to our last island of Chichime, which was the only crowded anchorage we saw while there. We wanted to check out the island, but rowing in the choppy conditions didn’t sound appealing, so we just snorkeled around the reefs instead. We waited for a couple days for it to clear up, but the winds just kept building. Reefs or islands surrounded us on all sides, and we weren’t sleeping well at night in the tight anchorage. Instead of spending another night, we decided to pull up anchor late that afternoon and sail through the night to Colon. We only spent two weeks in the islands, but it seemed like enough. It was a beautiful place, but there are only so many nights we need to spend worrying about lightning strikes.

We made the 71 mile sail to Colon through the night and actually had nice sailing for part of the trip. Our eyes were glued to the horizon, as there were countless ships passing by. By sunrise, we could see around 50 freighters anchored outside Colon Harbor, Latin America’s busiest port, waiting for their turn to go through the canal. We passed through the entrance to the Cristobal breakwater and into the Shelter Bay Marina, where we would spend a week before going through ourselves.

Our biggest priority in Shelter Bay was preparing Saviah for her transit of the Panama Canal. We had a few projects we wanted to do, but first we needed to start the process for the transit. It is possible to handle all of the paperwork yourself or you can hire an agent to do it. Doing it yourself can be frustrating and time consuming, as you have to run around to various offices in town, waiting in long lines and dealing with taxis and busses. We decided to use an agent and had a recommendation from some other cruisers for a good one.

On Monday morning a guy came out from the admeasurer’s office to fill out the paperwork and measure Saviah. Our agent was also there, and the two of them gave us a rundown of what the transit would be like and answered our questions. We also set a date for the transit which we decided would be one week out, which would give us plenty of time to get ready.

The week was spent working on boat maintenance and replacing our navigation lights, and some engine maintenance. Andrew went aloft to inspect the rig, clean the mainsail track and replace a spreader light. We also cleaned out our water tank, topped off our propane tanks and made some trips into town to provision for the next few weeks. The marina is a bit removed from everything on the other side of the canal, but they provide free daily shuttles into Colon, and drop you off in a shopping center and pick you up a few hours later. This made it easy to get groceries and supplies for a few projects.

The marina also had a nice air conditioned lounge where we could escape the heat and spend some time on the computer doing research for our trip up the coast. There was nice group of cruisers there, fitting out their boats in preparation for various destinations, and we enjoyed hanging out with them and swapping stories in the evenings. Our week there flew by, and on Monday afternoon, it was time to head out.

Our agent came out to the marina and brought us eight big fenders and four 125-foot long lines that are required for the passage. We also met our line handlers, Jose, Miguel and Reggie. During the transit you are required to have four people to handle lines and one to drive, so we needed an additional three people to go with us. Reggie was a local cab driver who had done the transit many times before, and the other two were young guys with not much experience. Our agent did the clearance paperwork for us and with our Zarpe in hand, our little over crowded boat headed out of the marina.

From the marina, we motored over to the Flats anchorage and dropped the hook around 3 pm. Our tentative time to start through the locks was 4 pm, but first a launch would arrive to drop off yet another person, as if we had any more room on Saviah. That additional person is the pilot, who provides instruction to us and communicates with the lock personnel throughout the transit. There was another sailboat in the anchorage waiting with us, which we were happy to see. It was the Swiss boat, Olimir, and having them there would make our transit a bit easier. Since there were two of us, we would be rafting together while going through the locks. This meant we would go through in the center of the chamber, which is preferable to the other options, tying off to the wall or to a tug. It also meant handling only two lines per boat instead of four and that we could use our engines together, providing more maneuverability in the chambers.

Around 5 pm, Reggie noticed the launch heading in our direction and told us to start pulling up the anchor. This turned out to be rather difficult. We were anchored in water 40 feet deep, which is much deeper than we prefer since we don’t have a windlass. Andrew went up to the bow to pull in the 150 feet of chain. The first 50 feet was easy, but after that it was covered in thick slimy mud which made it really slippery and messy. It took about ten minutes to get it up and by the end of it, the bow of the boat and Andrew were covered in mud.

Our pilot boarded Saviah during this process and after the anchor was up, we motored towards the Gatun Locks. The Gatun locks are the first set on the Caribbean side and raise vessels a total of 84 feet between three chambers. On approach to the first chamber, we came alongside Olimir and tied together bow and stern lines and a couple spring lines as well. A big ship led the way and pulled to the front of the chamber, with our nested boats following slowly behind.

These big ships are tied with a cable to locomotives on either side of the chamber, and they pull them through. For small boats like us that are going through center chamber, we run long lines from the bow and stern to cleats at the top of the chambers on each side. In order to get the lines there, the lock employees throw messenger lines down to us from up on the chamber wall as we are approaching. These lines have monkey fist knots on the end, which just add weight for heaving purposes. After they have tossed them onboard, we tie them to our much stronger lines, which they bring back up and wrap around a cleat. You have to pay attention when these lines are being heaved, as you don’t want to be hit with a monkey’s fist. We also covered our solar panels, so they wouldn’t get broken if they were hit.

By the time we reached the locks, the sun was setting, and we were glad to have our new working running lights. With our lines secure, they closed the massive lock doors, and water flooded into the chamber. There is a bit of turbulence from the nearly 27 million gallons of water that come into the chamber, but our line handlers did a good job of keeping the boats steady. Most mishaps occur from this turbulence, especially on the way up, but since we had four line handlers on board for two lines it was easy to keep the boat in-place and bring in the lines as the water level went up.

After the water level rose, the forward gates opened, we brought in the lines and motored forward to the next chamber. We passed by a building on the center wall with a big sign commemorating the centennial anniversary of the locks next year. The US Government starting building the locks in 1903 and the first boat transited in 1914. It took over ten years to build it, at a cost of almost $400 million and the labor of 75,000 men. Over 27,000 lives were lost in the process of building it due to accidents and disease, although 80 percent of these were during the first attempt by the French some years earlier. Since its opening, 900,000 ships have passed through. The canal was owned and operated by the US Government until it was transferred to the Republic of Panama on December 31, 1999.

All went well with the first three locks, and by 8 pm, we were in Gatun Lake. Since our top speed is only 6 knots, we would have to do the transit over two days. Once we were in the lake, the pilot directed us to the mooring where we would tie up for the night, and then the launch pulled up alongside to pick him up. We tied both boats up to this large mooring ball with a web of lines, which would have been a disaster if we had a big squall in the night. The three line handlers remained on board for the night, and we cooked dinner for everyone and went to sleep around 10 pm. Five people are way too many for little Saviah in the tropics, and it was cramped and hot.

The next morning, a new pilot arrived at 7 am, and we were underway again. It was 28 miles to the next set of locks, and the pilot informed us that we needed to be there by 11 am, meaning an average speed of 7 knots was necessary. We told him we wouldn’t be able to make it, but thanks to some favorable current, we were able to maintain enough speed.

The first part of the trip that morning was the 20 mile crossing of Gatun Lake. This is a man-made lake that extends most of the way across the isthmus and was formed by erecting a dam across the Chagres River. The watershed around the lake is a diverse ecosystem with lots of animals, including crocodiles, sloths, monkeys and jaguars. There are also many species of birds as well, and we saw a dozen toucans flying around one of the islands.

The pilots that provide instruction throughout the transit are employees of the canal that do this as a side job on their days off to make a little extra money. The first day our pilot was a tug operator and on the second day, we had one of the security guards. We really liked both of our pilots, who doubled as tour guides and gave us all sorts of information about the locks. They told us a bit about the history and the major expansion that is currently underway.

Right now, there are two sets of locks on either side, and they are building a third, which is supposed to open in a couple years and is estimated to cost over $5 billion to build. As ships are getting bigger, they are trying to keep up, and the new one will have lock chambers that are 1,400 feet long, 180 feet wide and 60 feet deep. These big ships pay according to their tonnage, and the cost of the transit for many of them is several hundred thousand bucks. We thought the $800 required for Saviah was steep.

It took a few hours to get through the lake, passing by all sorts of ships coming the other direction, including huge car carriers, cruise ships and tugs that threw up a 5 foot wake. After the lake is the Gaillard Cut, which is where most of the excavation took place during the building of the canal. This narrow section stretches for seven miles before reaching the Pedro Miguel locks, where we arrived right on time at 11 am. We went alongside Olimir again and tied up to get ready for the next lock transit.

Everything went smoothly for our first down lock, and we came out on the other side to Miraflores Lake. We stayed tied up as we motored through this small man-made lake and then headed into the Pedro Miguel Locks. Again, we had it easy while the line handlers tended the lines and the water level began to lower.

The last lock is the highest, due to the more extreme tidal variation in the Pacific Ocean, and we were a little nervous as this is where most incidents happen from turbulence. We almost had an incident when the door was opened, the water was swirling around and the lock employees untied only three out of four of our lines. After the lines are off, you want to get them onboard quick and get the boats moving to get steerage. We were just sitting there starting to drift sideways as they realized the mistake and slowly walked over to let the last one go. Fortunately we were able to straighten the boats out using the engines together. It would have been a bummer to end the transit with the bowsprit getting slammed into the wall.

After we motored through the last gate, we untied from Olimir and breathed a huge sigh of relief. We were excited to have completed the transit without issue and be back in the Pacific again, 15 months after leaving it. We motored out into the canal and after the launch boat picked up the pilot, we pulled off to the side near the Balboa Yacht Club, where another launch picked up our three line handlers and all the lines and fenders that we borrowed from our agent.

We made our way to the Flamenco Marina, where we topped off our fuel tanks and then around the corner where we dropped the hook in the Las Brisas anchorage in front of the huge skyscrapers lining the waterfront of Panama City. We had originally planned on staying a couple nights and making a trip into town, but there was stiff breeze in the bay and way too much chop for us to row to shore against. So we spent one night at anchor and the next day, October 9^th, we headed up the Pacific coast, unsure of our next destination.

Colombia (2013)

2013-11-19T15:00:00.000-08:00

On July 29^th, we bid farewell to the Dutch Caribbean and set our course for Santa Marta, Colombia. The 300 mile passage is known for being a tough leg, with trade winds often blowing 25-30 knots and rough seas. The forecast called for two days of easterly winds at 20 knots, and increasing again after that, so we decided to go for it and sail as far as possible before conditions deteriorated. Some people are concerned about pirates due to the close proximity of Venezuela, but the rough sea conditions usually make attacks very unlikely.

The trip started off with nice sailing wing-on-wing in 15-20 knots, but it quickly built to 20-25 knots. We dropped the main and sailed under poled-out jib alone, and Saviah flew along at 6.5 knots. We watched the seas steadily build from eight feet to twelve feet during the first night, and by day two they were up to 15 feet. During this stretch, we encountered the biggest seas we’ve seen yet, with several 25-30 foot waves rolling through every hour. Fortunately, they were long period waves and weren’t breaking. We did get the occasional wave that would come out of the north and hit us on the quarter, bringing hundreds of gallons of water over the cabin top and into the cockpit.

Conditions finally began to moderate during the second night, and by dawn, the Colombian mountains were visible. As we neared Cabo de la Aguja, the winds dropped to 10 knots, the seas calmed and our speed slowed significantly. By noon on day three, we sailed into the calm waters of Bahia Santa Marta. Landfall is always a high, but especially after a rough passage!

Most cruisers who visit Colombia seem to make one stop in Cartagena, the beautiful colonial city 100 miles further down the coast. Although we wanted to visit Cartagena, we had been warned that it is a less than ideal place to visit by boat. Many cruisers reported that the water in the anchorage is filthy and foul smelling, the holding is lousy, and the hot and humid air can turn the cabin into a sauna. We also heard that the marinas there are subpar and really expensive to boot. Santa Marta on the other hand has an almost new marina at very reasonable prices, and this seemed like a good base for some land travel.

We were happy about our decision as soon as we arrived. The marina was very nice with all the amenities, including an air-conditioned lounge where we could use wi-fi and a small store on-site. They had really friendly staff and armed guards patrolling 24/7. On our arrival, one of the marina staff arranged for an agent to come out to the boat to handle the clearance formalities for us. Colombian regulations require the use of an agent, and they charge around $100 for the service. Later that day, Jose and Rafael came out to the boat to collect our papers and passports.

Santa Marta isn’t really a tourist destination. It’s a bustling port city with a population of about half a million people. It is the oldest city in Colombia, established in 1525, but unfortunately the structures were not preserved, like some of the other colonial cities in the country. There are supposed to be some beautiful beaches on the outskirts of the city, but we’ve seen plenty of beaches and opted to hang out in town.

Since food was generally inexpensive and it was often too hot to cook, we ate many meals ashore. There were dozens street vendors selling empanadas and other fried food really cheap, including Andrew’s favorite, a ball of mashed potatoes, stuffed with rice and meat and then fried. Juice stands were also very busy in the heat, making all kinds of refreshing cold drinks. One thing we found a little unusual is the popularity of soup in the restaurants. Although they were quite tasty, the idea of eating hot soup when the air temperature was so hot was not appealing.

It was affordable to get around town, with a taxi ride costing 5,000 pesos (about $3). It was the same price to go around the block as it was for a 30 minute ride across town. So we took some trips around town to see the central Mercado, where the outdoor stalls have everything for sale, from meat and vegetables to auto parts. The cheap taxis also made it easy to reach the big mall, which had a nice grocery store and a big home improvement store where we found supplies for a few boat projects.

Santa Marta

After five days in the country, a customs official finally showed up at the boat to do an inspection and complete the final paperwork. At that point, we were clear to do some traveling inland. Although Colombia has a reputation for being a dangerous place, the situation in the country has improved significantly over the last decade and in most places, as long as you’re careful, it is generally safe to travel. So we decided to see some of the country and started off with a short trip to Minca, a small village in the nearby Sierra Nevadas at almost 2,000 feet of elevation.

The cheapest way to reach Minca was via a collectivo, which is basically a shared taxi that leaves when the car is full. So, we made our way to the central mercado and waited for the next available one. Ten minutes later, the driver had enough people to make it worth the trip, and six of us piled into a small five-seater car. It was a sweaty and bumpy hour on the partially paved road into the mountains. The driver seemed to be trying for a new personal speed record while swerving from one side to the other to avoid potholes, but we somehow made it in one piece.

Only a few years ago, Minca was occupied by a paramilitary group and occasionally the FARC guerrillas before that. They left in 2006, and now it is a scenic little village with temperatures at least 10 degrees cooler than Santa Marta. We spent three days there relaxing at a hostel, Casa Loma, high on the hillside. Getting to the hostel involved climbing 200+ steps, but the rustic place was charming and had great views all the way back to Santa Marta and the ocean beyond. The showers were only one temperature which was ice cold, but we quickly learned to take them right after the climb up the stairs and then it was quite refreshing. The owner of the hostel was very helpful, and there was a good group of international backpackers there that we enjoyed hanging out with in the evenings.

We spent our days exploring the area, walking through the village and visiting some of the nearby waterfalls. There was one viewpoint where you can see the snowcapped mountains in one direction and the sea in the other, but it was a long uphill walk along the road. Rather than spend an entire day getting there and back, we decided to hire moto taxis for the way up and then just walk back. We both hopped on the back of a motorcycle, which turned out to be an adventure in itself, as the drivers navigated the bumpy dirt roads. The view wasn’t great due to the clouds, but the walk back was nice.

On the way back down, we stopped by a coffee plantation, which turned to be the highlight of the trip to Minca. Although this is a long way from the main coffee growing region in Colombia, there is a small plantation here called La Victoria, which started in 1892. We just showed up and one of the employees took us on a tour. Although the coffee beans wouldn’t be harvested for a few months, she showed us around the facilities and how the process works.

All of the beans on the plantation are hand-picked. They then go through a series of machines that are powered completely by the water flowing down the mountain in the nearby river. After the beans are deposited into the first machine, they don’t need to touch them until the end of the processing. The flow of the water brings the beans from one machine to the next and even sorts them by weight. These machines are now almost 120 years old and still work the way they did when they were originally installed. The water also flows through an old generator, which provides enough electricity for the facilities and all 20 of the homes on the plantation. After the tour, we hiked up the plantation road to see the coffee plants, fruit trees and the little houses built into the hillside where the employees live.

Back on the boat in Santa Marta, we worked on planning a longer trip inland to see more of the country. For trips covering a long distance, it costs the same to fly as to take a bus and would save us about a day of travel time. So we booked flights and rooms at a few hostels, and on August 9^th, we started a 16-day trip with a flight to Bogota, the capital and largest city in Colombia with over 8 million residents. The city is at an elevation of 8,600 feet, and it was refreshing to step off the plane into the cool mountain air. We actually needed jackets for the first time in a while.

At the airport, we piled into a cab and headed into downtown. On the way in, traffic slowed, and we came to a stop on the highway. Our cab driver quickly leaned over and locked all of the doors. It was a reminder that we would have to be a bit more careful during this part of the trip. Although Bogota has made some big improvements from the 90’s, when it was considered to be one of the most violent cities in the world, it still has a way to go. We were told not to have a camera out in plain sight and while we were there, we didn’t see another tourist with an expensive camera around their neck.

We stayed and spent most of our time in Bogota in the La Candelaria neighborhood near downtown. Bogota is an old city, founded in 1538, and this neighborhood is one of the oldest, as well as the location of most of the cultural activities and sites. There are some well-preserved homes over 300 years old, as well as some really good museums.

La Candelaria neighborhood, Plaza de Bolivar, guards at president's mansion

We spent several days walking around this area and seeing the sites. There are some beautiful old buildings, especially around the Plaza de Bolivar, including churches dating back to the 16^th century. This is also where many of the government buildings are located, one of which is the Casa de Nariño, the home and office of the president. As we strolled around this area, we were obviously doing something wrong, but couldn’t figure out what the machine gun wielding guards were telling us. Eventually we learned that visitors are only allowed to walk in the street around the capital, not on the sidewalk.

During our stay in Bogota, it rained every day and was quite chilly. It felt like Seattle in the fall, which was a nice change from the heat down on the coast. None of the buildings had heating, including our hostel, but that was ok since we had eight blankets on our bed.

One of the first things that a visitor notices in Bogota is the graffiti, which is everywhere. Not just tagging of walls either, but huge murals on buildings. There was an advertisement for a graffiti tour in our hostel, so we signed up. It turned out to be the most interesting things we did in Bogota.

The tour was led by an Aussie named Christian who called himself a “street artist” and moved to Bogota a few years earlier because of the lax graffiti laws in Colombia. He took us on a walking tour where we went through various streets while he explained all about street art. He told us about the various kinds of graffiti from the hoodlums that do tagging, to the individual artists and big crews that do murals. Some people do freehand spray painting, or use brushes and quite a few actually use stencils, from poster cutouts to computer images projected onto a wall. Some of the stuff is political, some goofy cartoons and now they even have rogue advertising, where businesses actually pay people to spray paint their product logos on the side of a home or business.

Graffiti is not permitted in Colombia, but not really considered a crime either. Occasionally these guys will be stopped by the police and asked to pay a small fine (more of a bribe), or possibly spend the night in jail. But this is rare and usually they aren’t bothered by the police at all. Many of the building owners don’t want their walls tagged, so they ask local artists to paint murals. Generally, once a mural is up it won’t get painted over or tagged, so this is preferable to them. Many of the local people are quite proud of the street art, and artists come from all over the world to paint here.

Another popular tourist attraction in Bogota is a trip up Monserrate peak, which towers over the city at 10,341 feet. On the top is a church with a statue of the Fallen Christ dating from 1650. Lots of the locals make the pilgrimage up to see the statue, which sits at the altar of the church, and it was quite crowded when we went up on a Saturday. You can walk up to the top, which involves going up 1,500 steps or just take the cable car up for a small fee. Since there have been reports of attacks and robberies on this trail, we decided to just take the easy way up via the cable car. We spent an hour at the top walking around and checking out the various statues and well maintained gardens and enjoying the views of city below.

After three days in the big city, we were ready to move on. We took a nice big air conditioned bus for the first few hours to the city of Tunja and then switched to a smaller crowded bus for the last hour to Villa de Leyva. At 7,000 feet of elevation, the temperature here was about perfect.

Villa de Leyva was established in 1572. There are less than 10,000 people in this well preserved colonial town with cobblestone roads and whitewashed buildings. It was a pleasant change from Bogota. The local people were very friendly, and there is little to no crime. It was nice to break out the camera and not have to constantly look over our shoulder.

We did a lot of walking around to check out the town and stopping to eat baked empanadas and drink tinto (local coffee). There was also a short hike that we did a few times up a nearby hill with great views of the surrounding countryside. We spent much of our time sitting in the Plaza Mayor, just people watching. This is the largest town square in the Americas. The church on the plaza, Iglesia Parroquial, was built in 1608 and still has mass on most days. It is kind of an unusual plaza in that it is completely open, no benches or trees, just a single fountain in the middle. It was a popular place for the locals to hang out at night and a good place to fly a kite on the weekends. The square is the hub of activity, with something different going on every time we passed through.

Four days flew by, and we were on the road again. After the bus back to Tunja, we switched to another big luxury bus for the four hour trek up to San Gil. Unfortunately, we were the last ones to board and had to take the only two open seats in the very back by the toilet. This did afford us front row seats to some engine repair, when one of the employees came back with a wrench and screwdriver and removed a large floor panel, part of which was under Andrew’s foot. A big wave of hot air hit us when the panel came off, and there was the engine, and the highway below, going by at about 50 mph. The guy hung down with his tools, made some adjustments and put the floor panel back like it was no big deal. Not sure exactly what he was doing.

From San Gil, we took another small bus to Barichara, arriving seven hours after leaving Villa de Leyva. Barichara is another beautiful colonial city. It was founded in 1705 and many of the buildings look like they were just built. This is a town of about 7,500 people. It was starting to warm up again as we moved down to about 4,400 ft of elevation, and it was hot walking around on the hilly streets. The cobblestone streets here were different than Villa de Leyva, as they were made from big rectangular boulders. It is hard to imagine how long it must have taken to build those roads.

streets of Barichara and Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepcion

While in Barichara, we did the five mile walk on the historic El Camino Real. This is stone-paved road that was built by the indigenous Guane people centuries ago. It goes from Barichara, down the rim of a canyon and then through the valley to the village of Guane. After we arrived, it only took about 20 minutes to walk every street in the tiny village. We were happy to discover a bus going back to Barichara, so we didn’t have to make the uphill trek back.

El Camino Real and Guane

In Barichara, we stayed at a new hostel on the outskirts of town that is owned and recently built by a Frenchman. Some of his friends from France, who were involved in music and theater, had spent the last month in Barichara, teaching some of the local children about music and theater and doing some performances. We were lucky enough to see some of the performance and spend time with them at the hostel, which was certainly a highlight of our stay there. The last night we were there, they had a grande fiesta, where many locals turned out bringing their musical instruments and dancing until the wee hours.

Barichara

After four days in Barichara, we were back on the bus for a four hour trip to Bucaramanga. This is a bustling city of about a million people, where we spent one night before catching an early flight the next morning. After a quick stop in Medellin to change planes we arrived in Cartagena de Indias, the last stop on our trip and by far the most popular tourist destination in Colombia.

Cartagena is a beautiful, well preserved colonial city with a rich history. It was founded by the Spanish in 1533 on what was the former location of the indigenous Caribbean village called Calamari. There was much gold here to be plundered from the indigenous people and the city grew fast because of this. It quickly became the main Spanish port on the Caribbean coast, serving an important role in the administration and expansion of the Spanish empire. It was also the place where this newly found treasure was stored until it could be shipped back to Spain.

Because of these stockpiles of treasure, Cartagena became a very tempting target for pirates, including Sir Francis Drake who sacked the port in 1586. In response to these attacks, the Spanish needed to protect the town and built several forts and surrounded the town in Las Murallas, thick walls stretching eight miles around the city that took almost two centuries to build.

Today, Cartagena is still a major port and an important city on the Caribbean coast. There are around a million people in the city, which is an interesting contrast between the old town inside the wall and high-rise buildings and luxury condos that stretch to the south in the area of Bocagrande. The old town is well preserved and a big part of that is because after a big fire nearly wiped it out in 1552, the only building materials that are permitted are stone, brick and tile.

Just outside the walled city is the Castle of San Felipe de Barajas. This is the greatest fort that the Spanish ever built in their colonies and it sits on nearby San Lazaro Hill, looking down over the city. Construction started in 1657, and it was later expanded in 1762. The fort was stormed many times over the years, but was never taken. We spent one afternoon here and brought a flashlight to explore some of the unlit tunnels that go through it.

Castle of San Felipe de Barajas

Most of our time in Cartagena was just spent wandering around the narrow streets and alleys of the old city. There are many beautiful old churches, interesting museums and homes hundreds of years old. We especially liked the big decorative doors that you could drive a car through, with little doors cut into them for people. There are also some great restaurants here, and we had some delicious seafood dishes. We found a nice little hotel right in the middle of everything, which fortunately had air conditioning so we could escape the heat. This was one of the hottest places we’ve been yet.

We spent four days in Cartagena before taking the three hour bus ride to Santa Marta. Back aboard Saviah, we started to get ready for our next passage to the San Blas islands of Caribbean Panama. We made a few trips to the grocery store for provisioning and knocked out a few boat projects, including some varnishing and engine maintenance. We also had purified water delivered in 5 gallon jugs which we dumped into our tanks. We didn’t realize when we arrived in Colombia that the water was not potable. We filled our tanks from the hose at the dock and about four days later, our stomachs were feeling a little funny, so we decided to confirm with the marina that the water was ok to drink. Apparently, it isn’t.

While preparing to leave, some other cruisers in the marina were relaying stories about the San Blas Islands that were a little disturbing. We heard from three different boats about 70 knot winds in the anchorages there and boats washing up on the beach. They also spoke of the daily lightning storms, and many boats were reportedly getting struck. A week before we left, a boat came in from San Blas that left after they were hit twice by lightning in about ten minutes. This didn’t give us much motivation to head out, and we started to drag our feet a little. This time of year was supposed to be the worst for lightning, and it would be getting better in a month or two.

We did some research on the internet about ways to protect the boat, but the more we read the more confused we were. One source suggested attaching jumper cables to the shrouds and stays and dangling them in the water to ground the boat. We decided this was one simple cheap solution to try, so we bought some. In the end, we decided that even though this is one of the worst places in the world for lightning, the odds were in our favor that we wouldn’t get struck and decided to go for it.

So on a Thursday, we decided to leave the following Monday, assuming the weather forecast held. Another boat in the marina was also planning to leave that day. They had just called their agent and recommended that we do the same, even though we were told he only needed 24 hours advance notice. So we did, and Jose came out to the boat a few hours later, and we told him of our plan. He said would come out the next morning to collect passports and documentation and clear us out.

The next day he didn’t show up until noon and informed us there was a soccer game that afternoon and all the offices would be closed at noon, meaning he wouldn’t be able to clear us out in time. An hour later we ran into our friends who had just received their clearance documentation and were ready to go. That is when we realized we ended up with the wrong agent. We should have used Dino, the better agent, but it was too late to switch at this point.

The next day Jose came back, again about three hours later and this time said he needed more money. We told him about our friends who had no problem clearing out and refused to give him more money. This really upset him, and we started to wonder if we were ever going to get checked out.

Fortunately, our French friends that we met in Barichara were traveling through Santa Marta at this time, and the delay gave us time to hang out with them. Two days later Jose showed up again, collected our documentation and headed out to the offices. Later that afternoon, we received our clearance papers, without paying any more money and with lots of thank you’s for using his service, and would we please recommend to him to all of our friends. Early the next morning, on September 10^th, we set out on the 290 mile passage to the San Blas islands.

Bonaire, Curacao, and Aruba (2013)

2013-10-06T16:00:00.000-07:00

On Friday, June 21^st, we woke in the darkness, hoping to get an early start on the 400 mile sail from Grenada to Bonaire. There is a superstition among sailors that you should never begin a voyage on a Friday. We’re not superstitious, but after a rough beginning to this passage, we began to reconsider.

It started when Andrew realized that he hadn’t checked the fuel filter the night before. He went down to inspect it and found it was half full of water. This happens occasionally because the fuel tank vent hose runs into the cockpit in a less than ideal spot. If a wave fills the cockpit while we are heeled over hard to port, seawater can flow down the hose and into the tank. We drained the water, topped it up with clean fuel, and started the engine.

We were running later than planned when Andrew hoisted the main sail and untied the mooring lines. Careful not to foul the prop, we drifted for a while, waiting to get clear of the mooring ball and lines before putting the engine in gear. About thirty seconds later, there was no sign of the mooring float, and we started looking around the boat. It was nowhere to be seen, meaning that it either disappeared in the middle of the night (we weren’t tied directly to the mooring ball, but to the same line it was tied to) or it was caught on something under the boat. The only way to know for sure was to put on the mask and snorkel and get in the water.

Di took a quick swim around the boat and found no signs of the mooring float or any other lines, so we were finally able to motor-sail out of the harbor. The course out of Phare Bleu Bay was directly into the seas that morning, so we pounded our way out. Once clear of the reefs, we fell off onto a slightly more comfortable course just as a small wave jumped over Saviah’s quarter and drenched us in the cockpit.

A few miles later, Di noticed the engine RPM’s had declined with no adjustments to the throttle. This seemed strange, and ten minutes later, the engine died altogether. Thankfully, we were clear of all hazards and had enough wind to sail slowly. We surmised that the fuel filter was probably clogged, so Andrew set about replacing it, but quickly realized that he forgot to open the fuel supply lines after draining and filling up the filter earlier that day. Should we just turn back, we wondered.

This was a frustrating way to start a passage, but a few miles off the coast of Grenada, the wind filled in at 12 knots out of the NNE, and we sailed along with the main and genoa. The winds remained light for the first two days, but we had a little boost from the current that helped us average 5.5 knots. Rather than steer a direct course to Bonaire, we headed a bit further to the north. Over the last 20+ years there have been countless attacks on cruisers and even local fishing boats by Venezuelan pirates, so we decided to play it safe and put a few extra miles between us and the coast of Venezuela.

Late on day three, the winds picked up to 18 knots, gusting to 25. They were right behind us, and we doused the main to sail with just the poled out genoa. Around 11 pm that night, we got the gust that finally finished off our favorite sail. The genoa ripped twice horizontally in the middle of the sail all the way from luff to leach. Andrew was on watch and started pulling it down, as Di rushed up on deck, still groggy from sleep. While it was flogging, it wrapped around the spinnaker halyard and ended up in a tangled mess aloft. We had to let the spinnaker halyard fly to get it off the furler. This worked to get the genoa down, but then spinnaker halyard wrapped around something on the top of the mast that we couldn’t see in the darkness of night. Until we sorted that out, we couldn’t hoist our smaller jib, so we sailed with just a reefed main for the rest of the evening.

This was the third sail we lost in the last four months and the last of our big headsails that get Saviah moving downwind in light to moderate winds. We bought the sail second hand before leaving Seattle, and it got us most of the way around the world, although we had to patch it countless times and re-stitch most of the seams. Our only other jib is small, heavy and flat, which is going to make for some slow passages the rest of the way home.

Once the sun rose, we sorted out the halyard and hoisted our small jib. A few hours later, the low lying island of Bonaire was in our sights. We sailed around the south end of the island and into the calm seas on the leeward east side. All of the waters around Bonaire are part of a marine park, and no anchoring is permitted. The park has installed forty mooring buoys along the main town and capital of Kralendijk, where visiting yachts can overnight for a daily fee of $10. We tied off to one of the mooring buoys and jumped in the water to inspect it.

The water was incredibly clear, and we were pleasantly surprised to find what appeared to be a very good mooring system. There were three two-ton concrete blocks held together with steel cables, and two independent nylon lines connected to them. The concrete blocks sit near the edge of a shallow shelf that stretches 50 yards from the island and then drops off abruptly. When we were swinging on the mooring, our bow was over water 20 feet deep and the stern was over water 50 to 80 feet deep. This steep wall was a haven for fish, and it was all right under the boat.

Bonaire is one of six islands in what was previously the country of the Netherlands Antilles. Three of these islands are just south of the Virgin Islands, in the Windward group, and the other three, Aruba, Bonaire and Curacao (ABC’s), are in the Leeward group, just north of Venezuela. Our plan was to visit all three of the Leeward Islands on our way west.

These islands were colonized in the 17^th century and later united into an autonomous country within the Kingdom of the Netherlands about 60 years ago. That country was officially dissolved in 2010, but the islands remain part of the kingdom under varying legal status. Aruba and Curacao are their own countries within the kingdom, and Bonaire is a special municipality of the Netherlands.

After securing Saviah, we lowered the dinghy and rowed into town to complete the clearance formalities. The customs/immigration office was nearby, charged no fees and the process only took about ten minutes. We thought we needed to find an ATM to pull out some Netherlands Antillean guilders, but learned that Bonaire switched to the US Dollar in 2010.

After a short walk around, we knew it would be a good stay in Bonaire. There are only 16,000 people living on the island, which is 24 miles long and seven miles wide. Small Dutch cottages in a variety of pastel colors lined the long waterfront where the moorings are located. It is probably a different place when the cruise ships arrive, but when we were, there it was very quiet. We would often look from the boat into the main city of Kralendijk and not see a single person walking around.

capital city of Kralendijk near the mooring field

We could have stayed in Bonaire for a long time, not only because it was a lovely island, but it was a convenient place to cruise. There is a marina close by where we could pull alongside to take on fresh water periodically. We had free wi-fi at the boat from one of the shore side restaurants. We could get cheap fresh produce from the Venezuelan vendors, who have an outdoor market on the waterfront. There was also a very large Dutch grocery store a 20 minute walk away. It was the best grocery store we had been to in a while, although it was a bit of a guessing game at times since the labels were mostly in Dutch.

Although Dutch is the official language here, most of the people in the ABC’s speak Papiamento, which is a creole language that comes from Portuguese and West African languages as well as some Dutch and Spanish. The people on the island were generally multilingual, and could also get by in Spanish, English and Dutch.

During our stay, we spent a couple of days exploring the island via scooter. It was a really nice ride on the narrow, often single lane roads with very little traffic. We made a few trips around the island, following the coastal roads and stopping along the way to see some of the sites. The island is very flat and arid with lots of cactus.

cactus fence, Willemstoren Lighthouse, Seru Largu lookout

We wanted to get some exercise and see some wildlife, so our first stop was the Washington Slagbaai National Park at the north end of the island. Off-road vehicles are required to drive the park road, but several hiking trails start at the park entrance. We did two of them, including the short hike up to the highest point on the island, Mount Brandaris, at only 784 ft. There are many lizards and iguanas, as well as several hundred bird species in the park. We saw quite a few parrots feeding atop the cacti, as well as pink flamingos in the shallow brackish water, where they feed on the shrimp.

That afternoon, we rode southeast to see Lac Bay, a windsurfer’s paradise. The lagoon is protected by a reef, so it has no swell, but still has the full benefit of the trade winds. At only a few feet deep, it is the ideal place to learn. There were probably fifty windsurfers flying about the lagoon on the windy day we visited. We had never windsurfed before, so we talked to the instructors at Jibe City and came back a few days later for lessons. It was a lot of fun, and they gave us big boards and small sails, which made it easier. By the end of the hour, we got the hang of tacking and were ready for some slightly bigger sails.

From Lac Bay, we continued south along the windward coast and down to the salt ponds. These huge salt pans were vivid colors of blue, pink and green, depending on the level of evaporation. There were tractors loading the salt onto trucks, which take it over to a conveyer belt, which then loads it onto the freighters in the bay.

The salt pans are an important industry on the island that has been active for hundreds of years. As we made our way to the south side of the island, you could see the obelisks on the shore, which were used to guide the ships into the proper loading stations. Salt production was also the reason for bringing slaves to the island, and they still have the old slave quarters on the beach. It is hard to imagine, but each of these tiny shelters housed four people. The doors were small enough that you would have to crawl in, and I’m not sure it was possible to even stand up inside one of them.

slave quarters and obelisk used for guiding ships in

The highlight of our stay in Bonaire was definitely the snorkeling, all of which was done right from the boat. The complete coastline and the surrounding waters out to the 200ft depth contour are a marine park. They have done a great job of preserving their reefs, and the island is known as one of the best diving locations in the world, with nearly 100 dive sites. The marine park has installed buoys at these sites that are free to use for up to two hours at a time. They are located up and down the west coast of the island, as well as around the small nearby island called Klein Bonaire, just one mile from the mainland. We visited ten of these sites and found incredible snorkeling. The locations around Klein Bonaire were our favorite, and we saw eels, barracuda, turtles, squid, rays, sharks and many colorful fish dwelling among the healthy coral.

During our stay in Bonaire, we continued to be diligent about checking the weather. A direct hit from a hurricane was unlikely, since the ABC’s are outside the hurricane belt and have been hit only four times in the last 150 years. But, it’s still possible and who knows when the next rare hurricane will stray south or come close enough to affect the local weather and sea state. The moorings on the west side of Bonaire are protected from the typical NE to SE trade winds, but any westerly quadrant winds would make it untenable.

Two weeks into our stay, tropical storm Chantal formed east of the Windward Islands. These storm tracks are difficult to forecast, and we were not out of reach. We kept a close eye on it, weighing our options if the unexpected were to happen. There is a well-protected marina in Bonaire, which would be better than staying on one of the moorings, or we would have to make the sail to Curacao to a hurricane hole there. Fortunately, Chantal stayed far north of us, and we started to breathe a little easier a few days later.

After three weeks on the island, it was time to keep moving. Bonaire was one of our favorite islands in the Caribbean, and we could have easily stayed for months. But, there are other places we wanted to see, so early on July 14^th we slipped the mooring lines and made the 35 mile sail to Curacao.

The wind was ESE at 15 knots, and Saviah made good time on a broad reach at 6 knots. After rounding the south end of Curacao, we sailed wing-on-wing toward the Spanish Water harbor entrance. This well-protected bay has a very narrow entrance, only 50 feet wide. On our approach, we furled the jib and proceeded to sail through the channel under single-reefed main.

We threaded our way through the twists and turns of the waterways until reaching the designated anchorages. It was crowded as other cruisers had warned us it would be, but we managed to find a spot in 18 feet with good protection from the easterly winds. Unfortunately, this was not close to any of the marinas or other places to land the dinghy, and we really wished our outboard was working.

Spanish Water

Clearance formalities must be completed in the capital of Willemstad, further north on the west coast of Curacao. The process is quite an ordeal here, so we decided to just hang out for the night and get an early start the next day. Our first stop the next morning was at a nearby marina, where they said it was no problem to leave the dinghy, but busses didn’t run to that part of the island, and we would have to walk a long way to find one. So, back in the dinghy, we rowed in the other direction and found a windsurfing school that said we could leave the dinghy on their beach. From there it was only a ten minute walk to the bus stop, which had busses that run every hour into the city.

It was a thirty minute bus ride to the main bus terminal in Willemstad, the capital of Curacao. There are around 145,000 people on the island, which felt congested after Bonaire, and it had a somewhat industrial feel, with an oil refinery belching smoke near downtown. Right off the bus on our way to the customs office, we passed by the outdoor produce market. For centuries, the Venezuelan fisherman and produce vendors have been coming to Curacao to sell their goods. They dock their colorful boats right at the market. This made it easy to stock up on fruits and veggies anytime we came to town.

Venezuelan boats docked at the outdoor produce market

The customs office on the waterfront was our first stop for paperwork before heading over to immigration. The immigration office is on the other side of the Santa Anna Baai, which is a wide channel running through the city, where the freighters come in and enter the main commercial harbor to the north. To get to the other side, you walk across the 220 feet long Queen Emma Bridge, which is a floating pontoon built in 1888. This bridge swings open to allow ships to enter or exit the harbor, so it is occasionally closed to foot traffic for short periods of time. When it is unavailable for longer periods of time, they have a free water taxi that shuttles people back and forth.

The immigration office was a mile walk from the floating bridge, and we stopped in to complete that part of the process. The last stop was at the harbor master’s office, which was right by the immigration office, but by this time was closed for a few hours for lunch. We headed back into town and came back later for the last part of the paperwork. The officials were all very pleasant, and it wasn’t very expensive, but this was definitely an all-day event. We left the boat before 8 am and got back after 5 pm that night. Of course, we would have to repeat all of this again in a week when it was time to go.

Generally speaking, we weren’t crazy about Curacao, which was mostly because of the anchorage. Although it was well protected, the water was murky and not appealing for swimming, a real bummer after growing accustomed to swimming all the time in Bonaire. It was also such a hassle to get around from our anchorage, which was removed from everything. Blustery winds are the norm there, which made the row to shore and back a wet endeavor. It took over 30 minutes to get back to the boat in the afternoon, usually soaked by the time we arrived.

The next few days brought unusually strong easterly winds, and we decided to just hang out on the boat. This gave us time to do some cleaning and work on a few boat projects. After a few days of this, the winds calmed down a little and we were getting cabin fever, so we took the bus back to town to do some sight-seeing.

The city of Willemstad is a colorful and well-preserved city that is a UNESCO world heritage site. It is built around the entrance to the harbor, which was once the center of the Caribbean slave trade. This business was lucrative during colonial times, and the island became quite wealthy because of it. There are some very colorful mansions and other buildings in the Dutch and Spanish colonial styles, as well as several forts that once protected the harbor. They have spent a lot of money restoring these building over the last 30 years, and construction was still underway during our visit.

Willemstad

On one of our excursions into town, we stopped at a dive shop and found that the costs of guided dives on the island were about half the cost as in Bonaire, so we signed up for one. It had been two years since our last dive, so after a quick refresher of the basics, we were in the water. Unlike the murky anchorage of Spanish Water, the coastal waters of the island are crystal clear.

We did a drift dive, letting the current take us north along the beautiful coral wall. After about thirty minutes we reached a small tugboat, which had sunk in about 20 feet of water and has been overtaken by coral and fish. The last stop was under a pier where a large ferry has been docked for years, and many kinds of sponges and other coral thrive in the low light environment. Not one of the most spectacular sites and there weren’t many fish, but it was nice to be diving again.

After a week in Curacao, we were ready to go and had a good window to make the sail to Aruba. We spent a day retracing our steps in Willemstad for our exit papers, stocked up on produce at the floating market and headed back to the boat. A direct trip from Spanish Water to Aruba is too long for us to make during daylight hours, which we preferred since it is only 35 miles off the coast of Venezuela. In order to avoid spending a night at sea, we made the 26 mile sail to another anchorage in Santa Cruz Bay on the northwest end of the island. This would set us up to make the remaining 53 miles to Aruba the following day, which we could do during the light of day, as long as we left really early. Santa Cruz Bay turned out to be a really beautiful, quiet bay and a complete contrast from Spanish Water. Technically we shouldn’t have stopped there, since we had already checked out of the country, but it seems to be a fairly common strategy. At one point, the Dutch Coast Guard came into the bay and circled us, but they didn’t stop and check our papers.

The next morning we set sail from Santa Cruz at 4:45 am and had E winds at 15-18 knots. It was a fairly pleasant sail, doing wing-on-wing with our little jib and a single reef in the main. Saviah averaged six knots, and we made the sail in just under nine hours. The course took us around the south side of Aruba, a long narrow island about 20 miles long and six miles wide. Given the strict clearance requirements in Aruba, we needed to arrive during business hours to avoid overtime charges. We made our way halfway up the west coast to Barcadera Harbor, an unpleasant commercial harbor but the only port of clearance for visiting yachts.

As is generally the case, Venezuelan fishing boats occupied most of the dock. The only space available was in the shallow end, with a reef running parallel to it about 50 feet away. This didn’t give us much room to make a turn in water only six feet deep, a few inches more than what we draw. We debated anchoring out and rowing in, but since it wasn’t low tide, we figured we had a few extra inches of water under us and decided to go for it. As we approached and made our turn, Saviah didn’t come around like she usually does, probably because we were bumping the sandy bottom, but fortunately one of the Venezuelans ran over and helped us out. We tied off to the tall concrete dock, and Andrew fended off as Di ran in and completed the clearance formalities.

Thirty minutes later, we had our clearance papers in hand and made our way to Oranjestad, the capital of Aruba. We had considered anchoring out, but the trade winds blow very strong in Aruba, and other cruisers had told us about very unpleasant stays in the anchorage. Since we were planning on staying for only a few days, we decided to make it easy and just stay in the marina. We contacted port control and got permission to enter the harbor and pulled into the marina late that afternoon.

The marina is in the heart of Oranjestad, the capital of Aruba and where a third of the total population of 100,000 live. The city is like a mini Las Vegas and definitely the most touristy place we’ve been. The vast majority of the economy is based on tourism and almost 2 million people visit the island every year. The city seemed like one shopping mall after another, and Andrew was ready to leave as soon as the weather was right.

Actually, the stop in Aruba was more of a strategic one for us, breaking up the trip from Curacao to Colombia, which is known to be one of the roughest passages in the world. The trade winds typically blow very strong, and the seas can be big and steep due to the shallow depths that extend off the Colombian coast. We checked the weather every day, and rarely did the gribs show less than 25 knots of wind.

The weather was not cooperating for a few days, so we decided to spend some time sightseeing. We hopped on one of the busses going north along the west coast to see the California Lighthouse. Aruba is known for their pristine beaches and on the way up we passed high-rise hotels lining the beach, one after another for miles. Unfortunately, the lighthouse was not too exciting, and it was crowded with at least twenty tour busses.

Renaissance Marina, California Lighthouse

The marina is owned by the Renaissance Aruba Resort and Casino, which has three hotels in close proximity. While there, we had access to all of the resort amenities. We soon decided that hanging out in Oranjestad and using these amenities was where it’s at. We took full advantage of this, making it part of our daily routine to take a dip in the pool and get some exercise in the gym. One of the hotels is located on an island with a free ferry service that runs every 20 minutes for hotel guests. So we spent the afternoon out there too, where they had some nice beaches and photogenic flamingos.

After a week in Aruba, the forecast showed slightly lighter winds at 20-25 knots and decreasing to 20 knots after the first day, and it seemed this was as good as it gets this time of year. The marina manager told us if we wanted lighter winds, we would need to wait another five months. The 300 mile passage would probably be rough, so we strapped everything down well. On the morning of July 29^th, we made our way back to Barcadera Harbor to clear out and set sail for Santa Marta, Colombia.

Grenada (2013)

2013-09-09T13:52:00.000-07:00

Early on June 8^th, we left Union Island in the Grenadines and made the eight mile sail to Carriacou, the northernmost island in the country of Grenada. Our first stop was in the main port of Hillsborough on the west coast to complete clearance formalities. This was a rolly anchorage, so once we had our papers in hand, we sailed on to the southwest side of the island to the popular Tyrrel Bay.

Tyrrel Bay provides great protection from the wind and swell and has a lot of services for cruising boats, so it was not surprising to find another 50 or so boats anchored there. Fortunately it is a fairly large bay, and there was plenty of room for us to find a nice spot in 12 feet to drop the hook. The water was calm and clear over a white sand bottom with no coral heads to foul our chain. This was our kind of anchorage and a place we could have easily spent a week. As with many of the Windward Islands, locals would come out the boat to sell produce and drinks and even the mangrove oysters, which are harvested in the bay.

Unfortunately, it was already a week into the Caribbean hurricane season, and we were really feeling the pressure to get even further south. The island of Grenada is a safer place to be during this time of year, as it is just outside the official hurricane belt and there are quite a few very well protected bays on its south coast. There were already some recent disturbances just off Guyana on the South American coast that had the potential for development, and although they never materialized, it was enough to make us want to keep moving. So after only one night in Carriacou, we sailed 42 miles to the south side of Grenada.

As soon as we weighed anchor at 6 am, a squall rolled through with heavy rain and strong winds. Once it passed, the weather that day was very nice with sunshine and a 15 knot easterly breeze. We didn’t take a direct path, but had to go around an active underwater volcano called Kick ‘em Jenny that erupted in both 1988 and 1989. There is an exclusion zone of 1.5 km around the volcano, but if it is rumbling, the exclusion zone increases to 5 km. We checked the status before leaving Tyrrel Bay and were glad to find it was still sleeping. It was quite obvious when we approached it, as the water flowing over the large underwater mass created some choppy seas.

By 11 am, we were in the lee of Grenada, another lush green mountainous volcanic island. For the next 17 miles, we had amazing sailing, moving along at 6-7 knots in calm seas. As we rounded the southwest point of the island, the ride became a bash for the last five miles. No longer in the lee, The E winds shifted to SE and increased to 20 knots, right on our nose. We were sailing directly into five foot short period seas and had two knots of current against us to boot. We tried short tacking for about 15 minutes, but just couldn’t make much headway. We turned the engine on and motored sailed into the swell, making only two knots per hour.

On the south side of Grenada, there are eight large and deep bays that have great protection from wind and swell. Clarkes Court Bay was our choice because it was less crowded, and we could anchor right at the head of the bay next to a small marina, making it easy to get to shore. It was a relief to reach the protection of Clarkes Court Bay and out of the wind and swell, but it was disappointing to find this was a muddy bay with no visibility in the water. We longed for the clear waters we had grown accustomed to over the last couple months.

By anchoring so close to the marina, it was easy to take advantage of some of the facilities. We could fill our tanks with fresh water very cheaply, and they arranged busses that brought cruisers into town with stops at the grocery store, bank, hardware store and chandleries for just a few bucks. This was a big relief because the bay is quite isolated and several miles from any towns.

Grenada is very popular with cruisers during hurricane season. Many leave their boats there and return home for the summer. Others just hang out for the season, keeping a close eye on the weather and hoping this isn’t the year a hurricane strays to the south. Although the island is technically out of the hurricane belt, it has been hit in recent years. Hurricane Ivan struck in 2004, causing major damage on the island, and then a year later Hurricane Emily struck again. Before that, it had been 49 years since the last one. We were diligent about checking weather every day, but early in the season the risk is less. Our plan was to put some more distance between us and the hurricane belt and head to the Dutch Caribbean shortly.

Other cruisers we met had good things to say about Grenada and plenty of recommendations of places to see, but we were starting to lose interest after two months in the Windward Islands. Although the islands are beautiful and the cruising was really easy and relaxing, most were just too touristy for us, and we were starting to get bored. It was time for something new, so we decided to leave when the first nice weather window appeared.

While we waited, it seemed we should at least take a trip into St. George’s, which is the capital and biggest city in the country where a third of the total population of 110,000 live. This is a horseshoe shaped city built on the hillside of what remains from an old volcanic crater. In the middle of the horseshoe is the careenage, where many of the local fishing boats are moored. Old brick buildings line the streets around the water, with several old churches perched on the hills. It was definitely worth the visit, and we found a big market downtown with all sorts of produce, spices and crafts for sale.

around St. George's

The most interesting place we visited was Fort George, which has played an important part in the history of this island. It sits atop a hill overlooking the sea and the entrance to the careenage. It was built by the French between 1705 and 1710 and was used for defense of the city during the 115 years they ruled the island. After the British took control in 1763, it was used to defend against the French, although not always successfully.

There was quite a bit of political turmoil in Grenada during their first decade of independence, which started in 1974. Fort George was used as the headquarters for the People’s Revolutionary Army, formed after the first government was overthrown following a paramilitary attack. That government was ousted several years later during a coup, and the Prime Minister and several members of his cabinet were executed in the fort. It was even occupied by the US Marines for a short time when they intervened after the coup, concerned with the new communist government that was aligned with Cuban and Soviet interests. Fortunately, 30 years later the government is stable, and the country is doing well.

From our vantage point at the fort, we could see that many of the surrounding buildings had suffered damage in the recent hurricanes. Some were still missing roofs and walls, another reminder that it was probably time to get moving. After only two weeks in Grenada, it looked like a good weather window for heading west.

In order to clear out of the country and top off our fuel and water, we made the short trip into neighboring Phare Bleu Bay. Saviah’s decks were covered with mud from weighing anchor in Clarkes Court Bay, so it was nice to have water at the fuel dock to give her a rinse before passage. Customs and immigration officers were stationed at the marina, which made checking out a breeze. We spent the last of our Eastern Caribbean Dollars at the little store there, and then moved to a mooring in the bay for our last night before making the 400 mile sail west to Bonaire.

St. Vincent and the Grenadines (2013)

2013-07-28T08:38:00.001-07:00

On May 21^st, we departed at first light and had a pleasant sail from St. Lucia to St. Vincent. We had ESE winds at 12-18 knots with six foot seas and reached the lee of St. Vincent shortly before noon. This rugged volcanic island stretches 11 miles from north to south and seven miles from east to west. The terrain is a combination of steep mountains and dense green forest and is sparsely populated compared to the other islands in the windward group. The island of St. Vincent makes up about 90 percent of the total land in the country of St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

The French were the first Europeans to try to settle on the island in the 18^th century, but fierce Carib resistance kept the Europeans out long after most other Caribbean islands had been colonized. This was the last stand for the Caribs, many of whom were from other nearby islands that had already escaped British or French rule. They were eventually defeated though, and St. Vincent was traded back and forth between French and British rule for quite a few years until it was ultimately ceded to the British in 1783. It remained under British control until the country gained their independence 35 years ago.

Today there are about 100,000 people living on the island of St. Vincent. Unlike the first three Caribbean islands we visited, tourism is not the most important part of the economy here, but instead agriculture, with the biggest crop being bananas. Most tourists that visit St. Vincent just pass through the hub and capital city at Kingstown, before heading south to the islands in the Grenadines, which are more geared towards tourism.

On our approach to St. Vincent, we headed for Wallilabou Bay, a port of clearance near the middle of the west coast. After hearing about recent issues with crime in this bay, our plan was to anchor in neighboring Keartons Bay instead. This small bay is just south of Wallilabou, and there is a restaurant here called The Rock Side Cafe. The owners, Orlando and Rosi, have installed moorings in the bay and are able to keep a close eye on yachts from their home. So far, they have not experienced the same issues as Wallilabou, making this an attractive option for us.

We pulled into the small bay and tied up both the bow and stern to separate mooring balls, which kept us from swinging around and pointed the bow into what little swell there was. The water was crystal clear, so we went for a quick swim to cool off and found a small cave in the nearby cliff wall, which was good for snorkeling. The customs office was only open from 5 pm to 6 pm, so we had some time to kill before heading ashore, which was quickly filled, as boat after boat of locals stopped by trying to sell us jewelry, fruit, bread, ice, fish, crafts – you name it.

Later that afternoon, we rowed to shore and met Allah, one of the employees of the restaurant. He made the short walk with us over to Wallilabou Bay to show us where the customs office was located. This was a beautiful bay and would have been an ideal place to moor Saviah, were it not for the reports of crime. It was also the main location for filming the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. A seaside pirate village was built here around the small hotel, restaurant and even the customs office in the bay. While waiting for the customs officer to show up, we walked around the remains of the set and through some of the buildings.

Saviah moored in Keartons Bay and nearby Wallilabou Bay

After we met with customs, we hopped on a local minivan bus to the village of Barrouallie, about ten minutes north, where we completed our immigration paperwork at the local police station. Allah was a huge help in guiding us there, as it would have been very difficult to find on our own. By 6 pm, we were officially cleared into the country.

The moorings in Keartons Bay are free for dinner guests, so we decided to have dinner ashore that night. It was a delicious creole meal with many courses, served on their backyard patio overlooking the bay. We started with pumpkin and bacon soup followed by a salad, and then the main course of chicken and fish in creole sauce with rice, plantains, and peas. As if we needed anything else, mango cheesecake was served for dessert.

That night, we talked to Orlando about doing a hike up to La Soufriere, the active volcano that is the country’s highest peak. It has erupted several times in the last hundred years, most recently in 1979. The mountain is located on the far north side of the island, and we would need transportation and a guide to do the hike, which Orlando agreed to coordinate.

The next morning, we rowed back to shore early to meet Orlando, Allah, and Shema for the hike to the volcano. The drive to the trailhead took about 30 minutes. The roads wound up and down through the very rugged terrain and through areas with dense tropical rainforest. As we neared the coast, many men were walking along the road with backpacks and carrying machetes. Apparently, they make their living doing illegal marijuana farming on the hills of the mountain we were about to climb. This is a big part of the local economy, and although it is technically illegal, many of the local people are involved and the police turn a blind eye to it.

The hike started with a walk along the beach, accompanied by a dozen or so “farmers”, before turning inland and winding through huge lava tubes left from one of the previous eruptions. From there, the overgrown trail wound about three miles through very dense vegetation. Fortunately, Allah led the way with his machete, clearing a path for us. Mango trees were everywhere, and we stopped several times to eat a few and fill our backpacks with more to take back with us. Allah pointed out the many patches of marijuana plants growing on the hillside. They were more like trees, and he said he used to climb them when he was a boy.

After a few hours, we reached the exposed ridge for the last stretch to the top. As soon as we did, the wind started to howl, and it began pouring rain. We continued on and made the last 20 minutes to the top of the crater, completely drenched and shivering. The rim sits at 4,048 feet of elevation and offers great views of St. Vincent and the Grenadine islands on a clear day. Unfortunately, we could hardly see 50 feet in front of us through the dense clouds. We huddled behind some shrubs on the rim for a little protection from the wind and had some sandwiches and hot tea. Before starting the descent, there was a break between clouds allowing us a short glimpse into the crater, about 1,000 feet below.

hiking Mt. Soufriere

After the hike, we headed back to Saviah and topped off our water tanks using a very long hose that Allah brought out from shore. The next morning, we untied our mooring lines and sailed south to the Grenadines, a chain of over 600 islands that stretch from St. Vincent in the north to Grenada in the south. Most of these islands are tiny, some are privately owned, and only about a dozen of the larger ones are inhabited. The northern two-thirds belong to St. Vincent, and the others belong to nearby Grenada. There are about 16,000 inhabitants on all of the islands combined.

The most northern Grenadine, and one of the largest, is Bequia. This was our first stop after making the 16 mile trip from St. Vincent that morning. We sailed into Admiralty Bay on the west coast and picked up a mooring ball in front of Port Elizabeth, which is the only town on the island. This is a charming seaside village where about half of the island’s 4,500 residents live. It is a popular stop for yachts heading south, and the harbor was fairly packed with boats. There is also a ferry service that brings locals and tourists over from other islands. There is huge difference between St. Vincent and nearby Bequia, and it was hard to believe that they are part of the same country. Like the rest of the Grenadines we visited, it is much more peaceful and laidback.

Bequia

There are many restaurants and shops lining the shore, as well as street vendors and produce stands. The bay has some really nice beaches, and the swimming was good right off the boat. The plan was to stay for a night or two, but we stayed a bit longer to enjoy the tranquility, as well as the good protection from the strong trade winds that were blowing. After five days in the bay, we stocked up on fruits and veggies at one of the produce stands and made the 25 mile sail south to the Tobago Cays.

more Bequia

The Tobago Cays are a group of five small, uninhabited islands protected from the easterly swell by a big horseshoe shaped barrier reef. The islands were under private ownership for several hundred years until 1999 when they were purchased by the state of St. Vincent and the Grenadines and turned into a marine park. They are only accessible by boat, and you can anchor just about anywhere in the park where it is deep enough. Park rangers come by to collect a fee of $4 per person per day, which we found to be well worth it.

During the peak season, the park is usually very crowded with both cruising boats and charter boats that bring tourists over from nearby islands for a day of snorkeling. During our visit at the end of the season, only a dozen or so boats were there at a time. We saw quite a few turtles and the occasional ray when we were snorkeling, but were surprised at how few fish there were. It seems that the human impact has taken its toll on the area.

We still enjoyed our stay, appreciating the beautiful scenery, clear water and great swimming. With no land mass to block the wind, the breeze kept us cool on the boat, and the reef broke the swell, making it nice and flat in the anchorage. We also wandered around the uninhabited islands, which were pristine and had some nice beaches and hiking trails. Vendors come over from neighboring islands, and would occasionally sell fresh bread and other food. It would have been easy to linger here for months, but after a week, we were getting low on water and decided it was time to head out.

Tobago Cays

There are several islands within a few miles of the Tobago Cays, but we needed to keep moving south and only had time for one more stop in the country. We chose Union Island because there was easy access to freshwater at one of the docks, and it is also a port of clearance.

The island is approximately three miles long, a mile wide, and home to around 3,000 residents. There are a couple of good anchorages on the island and the most popular one is in front of the town of Clifton. After the short five mile sail from Tobago Cays, we tied up along the dock at the Anchorage Yacht Club to refill our water tanks. The small anchorage in front of Clifton was crowded when we arrived, so we opted to go west a mile and anchor in the lee of Frigate Island.

Quite a few years ago, a company decided to build a huge marina in the shallow waters between Frigate Island and Union Island, but after getting the main piers installed, the project was abandoned. You can take a dinghy to Frigate Island and then walk on what remains of these abandoned docks that stretch all the way to the small fishing village of Ashton. Unfortunately, the vegetation was quite dense making it hard to find the path, and the mosquitoes were really bad, so we gave up trying. We headed back to Saviah and spent the night in the anchorage by ourselves, getting eaten alive by mosquitoes. The next day, to escape the mosquitoes, we decided to try the Clifton anchorage again.

We found a small open spot in the crowded anchorage, but it was less than ideal. Although it looks nice, there are only a few narrow strips where you can anchor between the numerous reefs and not room for many boats. It wouldn’t take long to go aground if we dragged anchor, but the forecast called for light trade winds for the next couple days, so we decided it would work for a short stay.

anchorage near Clifton

We rowed to shore and walked around the small town with its many colorful produce stands and brightly colored buildings. The next day, we made the long hot walk up the northern side of the island, before returning to Clifton to do the short hike up to Fort Hill. From the top, there were great views of nearby Grenadines and the much larger island of Grenada further to the south.

Clifton on Union Island

After two days, we had seen everything of interest to us. We cleared out of the country, and the next morning, we made the eight mile sail south to the island of Carriacou.

St. Lucia (2013)

2013-07-21T07:17:00.000-07:00

On May 10^th, we left Martinique and headed south to St. Lucia. It was a pleasant sail with ESE winds at 12-15 knots, and an unexpected boost from the current helped us make the 25 mile trip in less than four hours. We sailed into Rodney Bay on the northwest side of the island and entered the narrow channel that leads into Rodney Bay Lagoon.

Rodney Bay

Rodney Bay Lagoon is a completely protected inner lagoon with a large marina and boatyard, as well as lots of stores and restaurants. Customs and immigration offices are also located close by. Our plan was clear into the country and stay in the marina for a couple of days. This would give us a chance to take care of a few small projects and have a mechanic look at our outboard, which we haven’t been able to start for several months.

St. Lucia is a mountainous island of volcanic origin, stretching 27 miles from north to south and 14 miles wide. The British and the Dutch both attempted to settle on the island at the beginning of the 17^th century, but were fought off by the Caribs, the island’s inhabitants at the time. About sixty years after the first European attempts at settling on the island, the French signed a treaty with the native people and were the first to successfully colonize the island. Only a few years later the British again laid claim, beginning a long battle between the two rivals for control of St. Lucia. Over the next 150 years, possession of the island would change 14 times (French and British each ruled seven times), until the British took definitive control in 1814.

After many years of British rule, St. Lucia gained its independence in 1979. The French influence is still strong here, and although the official language is English, most of the locals speak a French-based creole, and many of the towns have French names. The population of the island is around 175,000, and the currency is the Eastern Caribbean Dollar, also used by most of the islands in the eastern Caribbean. Today, the largest industry here is tourism, and most visitors arrive by cruise ship. Fortunately, the season ended before we arrived.

After we cleared-in, we dropped off our outboard at a local “mechanic” (we use this term loosely) and then took advantage of the fresh water at the dock. We opened our hanging locker for the first time in many months, and found our foul weather gear and cold weather clothing was damp and moldy. We re-caulked the leaky chain-plate above the locker to keep more water from coming in, but the contents still needed a good scrub. It took about half a day and lots of soap, water and bleach to get everything clean and stowed again. Hopefully, we won’t need any of this gear for another six months.

Several days later, the mechanic was still working on our outboard. Since we had time to kill, we caught up on a little varnish work and did some sightseeing at nearby Pigeon Island. We actually made the 45 minute walk from the marina to Pigeon Island three times, but our first two attempts were thwarted because the park was closed for the annual jazz festival, then a day for clean-up. But finally, the third time was a charm, and we were able visit the island, which turns out is actually not an island any longer. The inner lagoon where the marina sits was dredged some years ago, and the dirt was deposited between Pigeon Island and St. Lucia, creating a causeway.

Years ago, the British built Fort Rodney on the island, as it was a good location for defending against the French fleet on nearby Martinique. With the end of hostilities between the two countries, the fort was basically abandoned in the 19th century. Trails lead all over Pigeon Island, passing by the remnants of the old stone buildings. At the top of Fort Rodney Hill is a small fortress with a few rusting cannons, and another trail leads up to the top of Signal Hill, the highest point at 359 ft. This point afforded great views of St. Lucia, Rodney Bay and even Martinique to the north.

Pigeon Island

After five days in the marina, we finally got our outboard back, and it was still not working. It looks like we will be rowing a bit longer. With nothing else keeping us in Rodney Bay, we sailed south to the village of Soufriere. It was a brisk 19 mile sail in winds gusting up to 25 knots, but we were in the lee of the island with calm seas.

This is one of the most beautiful areas on the island and the place we were most excited to visit. The town itself is quite picturesque, sitting in front of a deep bay, surrounded by mountains and lush green landscape. The two most well-known landmarks on the island, Gros Piton and Petit Piton, rise up sharply out of the sea just south of town. The bay is a marine park and anchoring is not allowed, but mooring balls have been installed in a few areas for boats to tie up to. They were fairly inexpensive at around $30 USD for a week.

We were glad to use the mooring buoys, as anchoring here would be challenging with a steeply sloping seafloor and lots of coral heads. Our first stop was at the Bat Cave moorings, just west of Soufriere. There is indeed a bat cave, where hundreds of bats could be seen hanging overhead during the day. At night, we could hear them flying around close by, which we didn’t mind since they supposedly eat the mosquitoes. The clear water along the cliffs was good for snorkeling and swimming, and under Saviah, we found some nice coral and colorful reef fish.

Soufriere and the Pitons

After a few days of snorkeling, relaxing on the boat and exploring the town of Soufriere, the Pitons were calling, and we were ready to do some hiking. Both Gros Piton (2,619 ft) and Petit Piton (2,460 ft) can be summited, but the smaller of the two sounded more interesting to us. It is a much steeper and more challenging hike, but there are far fewer trees obscuring the views. It’s also more accessible since we could moor close to the trail head. We arranged for a guide at one of the local hotels, as we heard from several sources that the trails are difficult to find and easy to lose.

We moved to the moorings on the other side of the bay, and the next morning rowed to shore. Our guide, Manu, met us on the beach. We were glad we hired him because there is no way we would have found the trail on our own, and we also learned a bit about the island during the hike. It was overcast and drizzling for most of the way up and definitely a strenuous climb. There were a few tricky scrambles and several very steep sections where we needed ropes to scale large boulders. It took two hours to reach the summit, where on a clear day you can supposedly see Martinique 40 miles north. We weren’t able to see very far due to the clouds, but there were still great views of Gros Piton to the south and the town of Soufriere and the bay to the north.

The area around Soufriere is one of the most beautiful spots we’ve been to, but sadly, there are some issues with crime in the area. Most reports are related to theft, primarily dinghies and outboards being stolen, and occasionally a boat is broken into while the owners are ashore. We were definitely on alert during our stay, and after a week, we were ready to move on. We rowed to shore for one last time and cleared out at the customs and immigration office. The next morning, May 21^st, we untied our mooring lines and headed south to the next island, St. Vincent.

Martinique (2013)

2013-07-12T16:29:00.000-07:00

On the morning of April 17^th, we motored out of the Careenage in Bridgetown and into Carlisle Bay. After three weeks in the stagnant water of the inner basin, Saviah’s hull had a shocking amount of growth on the bottom. So, we dropped the hook in Carlisle Bay to spend a few hours scrubbing it and stowing things for the passage. We weighed anchor just after noon and set sail for the 120 mile trip to Martinique.

It was a pleasant sail in 10-15 knot easterly winds during the afternoon and throughout the night. As the sun rose the next morning, the island of St. Lucia came into view off our port bow. We could also see Martinique, as well as the biggest, darkest squall that we’ve seen yet, looming over it. After Di woke up that morning, we tucked in the 2^nd reef in the main, furled the jib, and waited for it to hit. The easterly winds died completely, and a few minutes later, we had 50 knots of wind from the northeast and a torrential downpour. Visibility was almost nonexistent at this point, as we could hardly see past the bow of the boat. The swell changed direction from SE to NE and quickly built to six feet.

The conditions stayed the same for half an hour before the winds slowed down to 30 knots and visibility improved. At this point, we decided to fore-reach and with a little bit of current were actually making a few knots of progress. Our original plan was to sail up the west coast to St. Pierre on the northwest side of the island, another 38 miles away. More squalls loomed on the horizon and we were completely soaked, so we decided to just call it a day and head into Cul-de-sac du Marin instead. This was the closest bay, and the long narrow inlet is one of the most protected on the island.

The island of Martinique is striking. Unlike Barbados, which is quite flat, the rest of the Windward Islands are of volcanic origin with many tall peaks and lush green landscapes. We worked our way up to the head of the bay and anchored near the town of Le Marin. This is one of the biggest yachting centers in the Caribbean with a big marina and several chartering outfits based here. We joined the hundreds of other boats, mostly French, in the anchorage, and set off to shore to clear into the country.

The clearance formalities were easy. In the marina office, we filled out the electronic form at one of the computer terminals, printed it, had it stamped by the marina staff, and paid five Euros. No visits to other offices or any other fees were required. If only it was always this simple.

The island of Martinique is an overseas region of France, and as such, is part of the European Union. It has been a French possession for almost 380 years, with the exception of about twenty years where it was under English control. The currency is the Euro and the official language is French, although many people speak a local French-based Creole.

Although this port wasn’t on our list of places to visit on the island, we were glad we stopped. The next week brought squalls and frequent downpours, and Marin was a good place to be. The heavy rains kept our water tanks topped off, but unfortunately, some of that water was finding its way inside. We found several new leaks, primarily around the chain-plates and portlights. Luckily, there were plenty of chandleries where we could find supplies to make repairs. Good grocery stores were also nearby, making it easy to do some provisioning for the next few months in the Caribbean.

After our first week of bad weather, boat work and provisioning, the sun poked out, and we were ready to see some of the area. They have local minivan buses here called taxis collectifs that have regular routes to nearby towns for only a few Euros. We hopped on one and headed toward Ste. Anne, a few miles to the south. This is a sleepy little seaside town built into the hills that rise up behind it.

There is a hiking trail that leads from Ste. Anne along the coast to Les Salines, one of the best beaches on the island. The trail alternates between wooded coastal pathways and walks along the beach. The pathways were very muddy due to all the recent rain, but it was easy to wash off with a swim in the sea. We had a leisurely lunch on the beach at Les Salines followed by another swim before the two hour hike back to Ste. Anne. On another trip we took the bus over to the base of Piton Creve-Coeur and did the short hike to the summit, which had some great views of the bay and beyond.

view of Cul-de-sac du Marin from Piton Creve Coeur, around Ste. Anne

After nearly two weeks in Marin, it was time to see some more of the island. Our next stop was Fort de France, about 23 miles north. We had a nice sail up in the lee of the island and into Baie de Fort de France, where we dropped the anchor right in front of the downtown area.

Fort de France is the capital of France's Caribbean overseas department and the largest, most cosmopolitan city in the French West Indies. Approximately 135,000 of the island’s total population of 412,000 live here. The anchorage has great views of the city and the mountains beyond to the north and Fort St. Louis to the east. The fort was built in 1640 and is still an active naval base.

A boardwalk runs along the waterfront, with a park stretching out behind that. Within the park, there is a statue of Empress Josephine, holding a locket with a portrait of Napoleon on it. Josephine was from Martinique, but is not very well liked, as it is believed she was responsible for convincing Napoleon to continue slavery in the French West Indies in order to help her family’s plantation. This is most likely the reason the head has been lopped off the statue and red paint splashed on the body.

Fort de France, statue of Empress Josephine, Fort St. Louis

We spent several days in Fort de France, walking around the town and looking at some of the interesting buildings. One of the most visible landmarks is the Cathédrale St. Louis, built in 1895. The spire is 187 feet tall and is the most recognizable landmark in the city. We also visited the Palais de Justice, a neoclassical courthouse built in 1906, and the Bibliothèque Schoelcher, which is an elaborate building that was constructed in Paris and displayed at the 1889 World Exposition. It was then dismantled, shipped here, and reassembled on site. It still operates as a library today.

Cathédrale St. Louis, Bibliothèque Schoelcher, Palais de Justice, local hotel

After three days in Fort de France, we sailed 14 miles north to St. Pierre. We dropped the anchor in about 40 feet of water right in front of the town dock. We thought the anchorage would have good protection from any easterly quadrant winds, but the wind wraps around the mountains and funnels into the anchorage from the south. This created two foot seas in the anchorage with lots of rolling and pitching. It was uncomfortable aboard Saviah, and the row to shore was very wet.

St. Pierre was high on our list of places to see while in Martinique. The town sits at the foot of Mt. Pelée, an active volcano and the highest point on the island at 4,583 feet. We wanted to stop there for a couple reasons. Andrew wanted to hike up to the top of Mt. Pelée, and we had a schedule of yole boat races that showed a race in St. Pierre that weekend. It turned out that neither of those things would happen, but we still a good visit.

St. Pierre has an interesting history. It was founded in 1635 and was the capital of the island and the most important city both culturally and economically on Martinique. It was once known as “the Paris of the Caribbean”. That changed in 1902 when Mt. Pelée erupted, and within a matter of minutes, the city was destroyed. Most of the city’s population of 30,000 were wiped out, along with about a dozen ships that burned in the harbor. There were only two survivors, one of whom was a prisoner serving time in a tomblike solitary-confinement cell at the local jail.

The city was never restored to its old glory. The capital was moved to Fort de France, and almost a century later, the population is only around 5,000. St. Pierre is still an interesting town to walk around. Many ruins line the streets, some partially intact, while others are just foundations. Many of the original stone walls have been used for newer buildings, and some of these have been built with shuttered doors and wrought-iron balconies that were common before the eruption.

St. Pierre, ruins of Quartier du Figuier

The next day, we waited for signs of the yole race, but nothing ever transpired. It was disappointing, but that evening, we heard a big commotion on shore and looked out to see the beginning of a parade. We hopped in the dinghy for another wet ride to shore, which was well worth it. Band after band marched down the main street, with people dressed in a variety of colorful costumes. Apparently this was part of the weeklong celebration leading up to Victory Day.

Our plan was to climb Mt. Pelée the next morning, but the volcano was shrouded in clouds. We also didn’t feel comfortable spending the day away from Saviah, as conditions in the anchorage were still a little rough. So instead, we left and sailed 17 miles south to the more protected bay of Grand Anse d’Arlet.

Once in the bay, we tied up to one of the new mooring balls that the town had recently added, which were free for cruising boats. There were also moorings along the cliff walls around the south side of the bay where we tied up our dinghy and did some snorkeling. It was nice to be in clear water again, as our previous anchorages on the island were in mostly muddy bottoms with murky water.

There wasn’t much going on in this tiny village, but we could have easily spent a month here. The bay was flat calm, and the village was very quiet and peaceful. The water was remarkably clear and great for swimming, and ashore was a nice beach dotted with brightly painted fishing boats.

The following day, we set off on the trail over and around the headland to the neighboring bay, Anse D’Arlet (also called Petit Anse D’Arlet). This is a picturesque little fishing village with a gorgeous beachfront. The town itself was full of colorful buildings, and a photogenic 18^th-century Roman Catholic church sits at the head of the town pier. The town reminded us of the villages in French Polynesia where the locals were out sweeping the streets in front of their homes, and the whole place seemed impeccably clean. We spent the morning walking around and swimming in the bay before enjoying a creole lunch at one of the beach huts.

The annual Martinique Tour des Yoles Rondes (Yole Boat Race) was taking place over the weekend in Ste. Anne. We really wanted to see these boats in action, so after only a few days in Grande Anse D’Arlet, we decided to sail south to watch the races. It was a long holiday weekend, so we needed to clear out of the country that Friday before things shut down. Di rowed to shore to the beachfront bar/restaurant, where there is a designated computer terminal used to complete clearance forms. She filled out the forms, printed them, and the bartender stamped the paperwork. If only it could always be this easy.

The next morning, we headed down the coast to Ste. Anne. Although we had visited Ste. Anne by land, we hadn’t anchored here yet and were happy to find a huge anchorage, with shallow clear waters and a sandy bottom that stretched a long way off the shore. The first race of the day started down the coast in Le Diamant, and from there, the course followed the shoreline for about 10 miles and finished off the Ste. Anne town center. It was already underway when we arrived, but we made it to shore in time to watch the boats cross the finish line.

yole boat races

When we first arrived on Martinique, we saw pictures of these boats, but didn’t know anything about them. Apparently they are built in the tradition of Martinican fishing vessels from hundreds of years ago. The hulls are shaped like a big canoe and built out of wood from the local pear trees. Spars are made from giant bamboo poles and support rectangular shaped sails that are usually brightly colored.

It’s hard to imagine a more difficult boat to sail than these yoles. They don’t have a keel, dagger-board, or even a rudder. Steering is done by the helmsman who has a large oar off the stern, which he rows from side to side to steer. As for ballast, that would be the crew. There seemed to be 12-14 people on each yole, and the job of most of them was to balance the boat. The sail is rather large for that size of boat, which means that they have to hike way out. They have long poles to hang onto that can be moved from side to side depending on which tack they are on. It takes a lot of coordination to get just the right amount of weight over the edge.

If winds are strong or there is a big gust, just about everybody gets out at the end of a pole. If there are too many bodies out, or not enough, then the boat tips. There aren’t any decks on the hull, so it is easy to scoop up a bunch of water quickly. There are buckets on board for bailing, but if the rail goes in the water for more than a few seconds, the hull can fill up and no amount of bailing will help. Then the boat sinks. We saw this happen a few times each day, and it was usually during a tack or jibe where the boat switched directions. People were scrambling to move poles from one side to the other and did it either too fast or too slow.

The next day, there were two more races. We rowed to shore and watched them set up for the first race along the stretch of beach north of Ste. Anne. We weren’t the only ones – there were thousands of people from all over the island out to cheer on the racers and enjoy the big party afterward with food, drinks and live music. The course for both races was the same, with a beach start and then zigzagging back and forth around several buoys set up across the bay.

For the first race, the boats were rigged a bit different than the previous day, with two sails held up by two slightly shorter masts. We stayed on the beach for the start, which was a bit chaotic as the yoles were rigged with sails and held in place by crewmembers in waist to chest deep water. They were relatively close together and went the starting gun went off, they all had to get on at the same time without capsizing it or running into their neighbor.

For the second race of the day, the boats were again rigged with a single large sail. There were many other vessels out trailing the racers, but we decided to watch from Saviah. We rowed back and re-anchored in a different spot to be a little closer to the action. We ended up a little closer than intended and had boats pass both in front and behind us, some within a few feet. It was quite an experience watching these guys race and definitely a highlight of our stay in Martinique. The next morning, we weighed anchor and made the 25-mile sail south to Saint Lucia.

Barbados (2013)

2013-07-09T15:27:00.000-07:00

We departed Ile St. Joseph off the coast of French Guiana early on March 23^rd, en route to Barbados, 635 miles away. The first day out was rough with short period, steep waves that are typical in the shallow waters off the South American coast. We had NNE winds at 12-15 knots with 6-8 ft seas, and we were hard on the wind to get offshore and into deeper water. We still had a boost from the current, so we actually made great progress, knocking off 156 miles the first day, but both of us were seasick and ready to stop pounding into the waves.

By the second day, we were in blue water again, and the wind shifted to the NE, enabling us to fall off to a more comfortable reach. We averaged 6.5 knots for the following two days in what turned out to be very nice sailing. The ITCZ was now behind us, and we had very few squalls and mostly clear skies.

By day four, the winds lightened and shifted to the east and our speed dropped to 5.5 knots. This worked out well for the timing of our arrival, and we sailed into the lee of Barbados and the Caribbean Sea on the morning of March 27^th. By noon, we approached the deep water harbor where we were required to tie up for clearance procedures.

Barbados is the most windward island in the Caribbean and is very popular for cruise ships. Unfortunately, the port, customs and immigration offices were all located around the deep water basin that was built with these large vessels in mind. The tall concrete walls used by these huge ships are not so good for a little sailboat, but the port requires all visiting yachts to come alongside to complete clearance.

The port officials communicated our docking instructions to us over the VHF when we arrived, and after one look, we decided against it. We radioed them for another option, which was just as bad. After a bit of back and forth, they contacted a local tug boat that agreed to let us tie alongside. This was not ideal, but a big improvement.

It was a difficult approach, as the tug was tied up in a corner, underneath the bow of a cruise ship, and it took a couple of passes before we were alongside. There were two men on board who helped secure our lines. We positioned all of our fenders for maximum protection and tied off additional lines to keep us from coming up hard against the tug. This took 15 minutes of adjustments before Saviah was finally secured well enough. By then, the crew of the tug said they had to leave to help a cruise ship out, and we would have to untie.

There was another tug in the harbor, so we moved up and re-tied. Di grabbed our documentation and ran around to the various offices, while Andrew stayed onboard to adjust the lines and fend off. Thankfully, the clearance was quick, and 30 minutes later, we were on our way.

The Careenage in Bridgetown is the most protected spot on the island, and given the lack of good anchorages, we were really hoping to moor Saviah here for our stay. The Harbor Master controls moorage in the Careenage, and he proved difficult to find, so we opted to anchor for the night and try back the next day. We moved over to Carlisle Bay, one of the few places where anchoring is allowed on the island, and dropped the hook in 12 ft of clear water with a white sand bottom. There was a bit of swell coming into the anchorage, but after being out at sea for four days, we were used to it. The clear warm water made for great swimming right off the boat, which more than made up for the rolling motion.

The next morning, we finally reached someone at the harbor master’s office, and were happy to learn there was room in the Careenage for us. We rowed to shore and headed into Bridgetown to fill out our paperwork at the office and scheduled our arrival time for later that afternoon.

The Careenage is a narrow inlet in Carlisle Bay that connects with the Constitution River. Later that afternoon, at our scheduled time, we motored in, and the drawbridge was raised so we could pull into the inner basin. Boats in the Careenage tie stern-to the concrete wall along the perimeter, and the bow is tied off to moorings in the middle of the channel. Since we don’t have a good way to get off our stern, we used the dinghy to get to and from shore.

This was an interesting place to moor, as one of the downtown parks was directly behind us. Park benches were only a few yards from our cockpit, where people would come and sit day and night. It felt a little like we were on display. There were no shower facilities, so we decided to move our showering from the cockpit to the interior of the boat so we wouldn’t have an audience. There was a water tap right next to the boat and public toilets nearby. Since there were rat traps lining the shore, it seemed prudent to thread empty plastic bottles through our stern lines to keep the rats from walking onto the boat. We didn’t want a repeat of the experience we had in Indonesia.

Having unlimited freshwater at the boat was really nice. We had spent a cumulative 43 days at sea since leaving South Africa two months prior, and Saviah was in desperate need of a deep cleaning. We washed the boat inside and out, flushed out our water tanks, did lots of laundry and even washed the interior cushions.

For the most part, it was nice to be in Bridgetown, which is the capital and largest city on the island. We could walk two blocks to the grocery store, and there were lots produce stands across the street, as well as a fish market nearby. We were also only a couple blocks from the white sandy beach that stretches along Carlisle Bay. We spent most mornings running on the beach and then cooling off with a swim in the bay. The locals seem to be very active, and many people ran along the shore or played paddle ball on the beach. People were quite friendly here, and we found that to be the case all over the island.

Careenage, St. Michael's cathedral, fish market

Barbados is an independent country, and has been since 1966. They were under British rule for nearly 340 years before that, and there is still a British feel to the island. Cricket and polo are popular sports, and English is the official language, although most of the locals speak a variant, called Bajan, in everyday life. Although it is based on English, we had a very difficult time understanding it.

Most of the people of Barbados are descendants of the African slaves that the English brought over to work in the sugar cane plantations. Sugar is still a big industry here, but with half a million visitors every year, tourism is now the most important part of the economy. It seems that most of these tourists arrive via cruise ship, and there were usually two or three in port at a time during our first week on the island. After that, the Caribbean cruise season came to an end, and there was a huge difference in the amount of tourists we saw around town.

Getting around Barbados is easy and cheap, as busses run around most of the island and cost only $1 per person. The major bus station was across the street from the Careenage, so we decided to hop on and do some sightseeing. Our first trip was down to the south coast, which is the center of tourism on the island. There were miles of hotels, condominiums and restaurants as well as some really nice beaches. We also visited Bathsheba, on the windward side of the island. This was a nice area that was not really developed yet, and the coastline is rugged, with some big swell coming in.

Bathsheba, St. Lawrence Gap, Paynes Bay

We also traveled up to the north side of the island and around some of the inland areas. Sugarcane was growing in many fields around the countryside, and it was nearly time for harvest. We hopped off the bus at the Morgan Lewis Mill, and took a tour of one of the largest intact sugar windmills. We then walked up the road a ways to St. Nicholas Abbey, which is one of the oldest plantations in the Caribbean, built in the 17^th century. The whole property has been very well restored, including the mansion with lots of the original furniture and fixtures and some beautiful gardens all around. The plantation still operates and is surrounded by fields of sugarcane, which they use to make rum and molasses.

After a few weeks on the island, our friends Eric and Cristi, their kids Jadyn and Logan, and Eric’s mom Kim arrived. They rented a really nice condo right on the beach in Paynes Bay and invited us to stay with them. We had been looking forward to their visit for a long time. It was nice to catch up with our good friends again, and the deluxe accommodations didn’t hurt either. Kim and Cristi are both excellent cooks, and we enjoyed some great meals together.

We had a very relaxing week, spending our time lounging on the beach or swimming and snorkeling. This stretch of coast is home to many sea turtles, and rarely a day went by without us seeing one. We also rented stand up paddle boards and played a lot of paddle ball on the beach, a very popular game on the island.

One morning Brian, a local tour guide, picked us up on his Hobie Cat. We sailed down the coast and stopped at several good snorkeling spots. There were quite a few turtles around and a decent assortment of fish as well. It was especially fun just sailing in the flat calm ocean.

We also did a few excursions to other parts of the island. Harrison’s Cave, a huge underground cave, is a popular attraction. The tour goes on a tram that takes you through the tunnels and into various caverns with some really cool formations and even a waterfall. We also made a trip to the Barbados Wildlife Reserve, which the kids really enjoyed. This is a walk-through zoo with all sorts of animals. Across the street there is Farley Hill National Park, and we did a short hike up to the Grenade Hall Signal Station, which was used in the 19^th century by British troops who communicated with flags to other areas of the island. The main attraction here was the colony of wild green monkeys, although they were a bit aggressive.

On Friday night, the two of us along with Eric and Cristi headed out to see the south side of the island. Our first stop was for drinks at the Crane Beach Hotel, which sits at the top of a cliff with beautiful views of the pink sand beaches and beyond. Oistins was our next stop, which is the center of the island’s fishing industry with a large active fish market. They are known locally for their Friday night fish fry, which has all kinds of music and dancing with vendors selling delicious and inexpensive seafood. One of the popular local dishes is flying fish, which we tried and were pleasantly surprised. Maybe we should have added them to the menu on ocean passages instead of tossing them overboard.

Before we knew it, the week had flown by. We said our tearful good-byes as they headed off to the airport, and then we returned to Saviah. After a week with A/C and a king size bed, the boat felt extremely hot and cramped. A few days later, we decided it was time to keep moving. We wanted to visit several other islands in the windward group, and hurricane season was fast approaching. So we headed back to the port and cleared out of the country. The next morning we untied our mooring lines and set sail for Martinique, 120 miles to the northwest.

Saint Helena to French Guiana (2013)

2013-07-04T11:51:00.001-07:00

On February 21^st, we left Saint Helena and set sail on the long voyage across the Atlantic Ocean. Our destination was French Guiana, 3,100 miles to the northwest. The initial 2,000 miles would likely be dead downwind in the light SE trades, so we rigged Saviah for running with twin jibs. The whisker pole was on one side and the mast from our sailing dinghy on the other. Once out of the lee of Saint Helena, we hoisted both the genoa and gennaker and set the windvane for a course dead downwind.

It seemed to be a much more comfortable and slightly faster ride with the two headsails. For the first 11 days of the trip, the winds were ESE to SE at 10 – 15 knots, and our average speed was over five knots. During this time, adjustments to the steering or the sail trim were seldom needed. One exception was that we had to drop the gennaker every few days to retie the sheets due to chafe where they rubbed against the dinghy mast.

running with twin jibs

The winds were incredibly consistent during the first two weeks. There was very little to do in terms of sailing, but we kept busy on a few days fixing things that broke on passage. We have been lucky so far in that our gear failures have been rare, but the harsh marine environment and a lot of blue water miles over the last few years are starting to take their toll.

On day three, Andrew noticed one of the stove gimbal pegs was about to break off. We had made our third temporary repair in Saint Helena, but it wasn’t effective. These small pegs that are attached to each side of the stove had nearly been sawn in two by the mounting brackets they rest in. They were near the end, but we needed them to last until we could get our new gimbals in Barbados. After disconnecting the propane, we pulled the stove out of its cradle and put it on the cabin floor. This is never easy on a rocking boat, but we were able to rotate the pegs and reinstall the stove. We checked it daily and kept our fingers crossed that it would hold for a few more weeks.

Other minor repairs included replacing the latch on the head door that snapped in two, stopping a new water leak that developed in the thru hull for the sink drain, and replacing the hinge on one of the galley doors that broke off. Then some stitching along the foot of the genoa began to unravel. While in South Africa, we had the sail re-stitched, but they apparently missed one seam. Andrew tried sewing it while the sail was up, but it wasn’t easy, and he almost fell off the boat a few times. So we dropped it for about an hour and hand stitched it.

Day seven brought our most worrisome gear failure. A squall was looming on the horizon, prompting us to drop the gennaker temporarily while it passed. We were sailing along downwind with only the genoa and suddenly headed off course on a beam reach. The windvane was no longer steering and seemed to be stuck in place. Upon closer inspection, we found that the ratio rod had broken in half. Without it, the windvane wasn’t going to work.

At this point, we were 1,000 miles from Saint Helena and 2,000 from French Guiana, with no spare on board for the part that broke. With several weeks left on the passage, the thought of hand-steering 24/7 was daunting, so we started brainstorming ways to rig a temporary fix. The half inch thick stainless rod was three inches long, with half of it protruding from a bronze housing. After the break, the longest part was now two inches long, and fortunately, it did not fall in the water. If we could put the broken rod back into the housing and find a way to hold it in place, maybe it would work temporarily. We considered gluing it, and then decided it would be better to drill and tap a hole in the housing and insert a screw to hold it in place.

When we left Seattle, we had tons of extra screws and a new drill and tap set. Nearly three years later, there are only a couple of rusty taps left. We managed to find two screws that happened to fit the remaining taps, and a few dull drill bits that were close to the right size. Di steered, while Andrew hung off the stern of the boat, drilled a hole in the bronze housing, tapped the threads and finally tried to put in a screw. This was extremely difficult to do while Saviah was rolling back and forth, and he broke several drill bits in the process. It took an hour to get the first one done, and then the screw broke off in the hole. He started over again, and this time was very careful, since it was our last screw. He carefully tightened it, and it seemed to hold the bolt in place. This entire repair would have taken less than five minutes in a marina, but off at sea, it took several very frustrating hours. Fortunately the repair worked, and we set the windvane to steer us downwind again. Now if it would just last for another 2,000 miles.

Winds remained light and steady from the SE, and by day 12, we found the south equatorial current, which added an extra knot to our speed. A few days later, we were approaching the equator near the NE coast of South America and entered the ITCZ (Intertropical Convergence Zone). This area, also called the doldrums, is the band between the SE trades of the southern hemisphere and the NE trades of the northern hemisphere. There are generally very light winds and lots of squalls. On day 15, one squall passed through during the night with gusts of 25 knots. This put an end to over two weeks of running with twin jibs when our gennaker blew out. This was another very old sail that was near the end of its life, and our time sailing dead downwind was almost over anyway.

By the time we reached the equator on day 16, the NE trade winds were starting to fill in, and we had 10 – 15 knots just aft of the beam. We sailed along with the genoa and a single reef in the main for our last seven days, with a bit of a boost from the Guiana current. On day 23, we were in the fastest part of the current, and Saviah was flying along between eight and nine knots.

In the late afternoon of March 16^th, we approached the Iles du Salut, which are part of French Guiana. We sailed around to the south side of the islands and dropped the hook, completing our longest passage of 3,100 miles in 23 days. Saviah certainly didn’t break any speed records, but considering the winds were light and most of the trip was dead downwind, we were happy with our average of 135 miles per day or 5.6 knots.

Iles du Salut

French Guiana is an overseas region of France, bordered by Brazil on the south and east and Suriname on the west. Our plan was to stop here for a few days to a week to rest and take on water and fresh food before finishing the last leg of our Atlantic crossing. We were also looking forward to spending time on the Iles du Salut (Islands of Health). These are three small islands, Ile Royal, Ile St. Joseph and Ile du Diable (Devil’s Island), grouped close together and lying six miles off the mainland.

We had the anchorage all to ourselves and slept hard that night. We awoke the next morning to see our friends on the Swedish sailboat Mare Liberum sailing into the bay. We had met Mark and Maria in Cape Town and were excited to see them again. Later that day, the four of us headed over to check out Ile Royale. It was nice to stretch our legs with a walk around the island and see some of the local wildlife, including iguanas and monkeys.

view of Ile du Diable from Ile Royale, curious monkey on Ile Royale

While on passage, we both read the novel, Papillon, by the French convict Henri Charrière. It is his account of the 14-year period that started with him being wrongly convicted of murder. After being sentenced to life in prison, he was shipped off to these islands, which were part of a French penal colony. He was imprisoned here for nine years before he ultimately escaped to Venezuela.

The penal colony operated on these islands for a hundred years, before being shut down in 1953. It was used for only the worst criminals of France, and its inhumane conditions made it controversial at the time. Prisoners were murdered by each other, and tropical diseases killed many others. Apparently France transported around 56,000 prisoners to the penal colony, and fewer than 10 percent survived their sentence.

It has been 60 years since the prison was closed, but many of the structures are still standing, including the guards housing, prison cells and various other buildings. Catamarans from the mainland bring tourists out on most days, where they can visit two of the islands, Ile St. Joseph and Ile Royale. No one is allowed on Devil’s Island, which is where the political prisoners were previously held.

penal colony ruins

After two nights, we headed to the mainland to buy groceries and take on water. We weighed anchor and made the nine mile sail into Kourou, the nearest port in French Guiana. The waters off the coast are quite shallow, so we waited until high tide and had a fast downwind sail, with 20 knots blowing from behind us and a swell of 8 ft. Fortunately the waves were going in the same direction, but they were a bit steep, and we realized we may be stuck in Kourou for a while waiting for good conditions to sail back to the islands.

We sailed far enough up the Kourou River to get some protection from the ocean swell before dropping the anchor. We were a concerned that it would be hot and buggy up the river, but it wasn’t too bad. The winds blew steadily while we were there, which kept it relatively cool, and we put nets over the hatches to keep the mosquitos out at night. After checking the weather, it seemed prudent to stay at least one night before heading back to the islands.

There isn’t much to see in Kourou other than the Guiana Space Centre, which is the European Space Agency’s primary launch site. We considered taking a tour, but it was all in French so we figured we wouldn’t get much out of it. Instead, we walked around the sleepy little town to do our shopping. The food was a bit expensive, but we were desperate at that point. The last big supermarket we were in was Cape Town, nearly two months prior. They did have a nice outdoor market where we found cheap locally grown produce. We filled the rest of our time catching up on boat chores and laundry. Fortunately, our friends on Mare Liberum were there as well, and we had a good time hanging out with them.

We also used the outboard we bought in Cape Town for the first time, which was mostly a fiasco. We still hadn’t figured out a good way to get it on and off the boat, and we kept forgetting to open the air vent or fuel supply or something else, causing it to die on us half the time. It almost died for good when we were approaching Saviah one afternoon right as a squall with heavy rain was arriving. Andrew was in a hurry and turned hard and gave it a bit too much throttle. The outboard wasn’t tightened down enough, and it flew off the transom. Andrew held on to the throttle, but the outboard was completely submerged in the river. So after only about an hour of use, he already had to change the oil, replace the fuel, and take off the carburetor to clean it. He got it running again, but it was starting to seem like we were better off just rowing.

French Guiana is often on the edge of the ITCZ, and lots of squalls with heavy rain passed through. The weather forecast called for more of the same, and one night turned into several. We hadn’t even cleared into the country, as our plan was to only stay for a day or two, and we were told that as long as you weren’t French, the local authorities didn’t care. Finally after four days in Kourou, the winds shifted to the east and moderated a bit. We sailed back to the islands, but were disappointed to find that due to the recent wind shift, some swell was now entering the anchorage.

It was late in the afternoon when we arrived, and the catamarans that bring tourists out to the island were untying from their moorings to sail back to Kourou. After they left, we decided to tie up to one of these moorings for the night. Unfortunately, the next morning it was more of the same, and the forecast showed two or three days before conditions improved. We could see the catamarans approaching in the distance, and they would not be happy to see us tied to their mooring. The thought of anchoring in the very soft mud and bucking seas made us nervous, so we decided it was time to leave.

We had really hoped to spend more time there, but it just wasn’t in the cards. We quickly stowed things aboard and got Saviah ready for passage. On March 23^rd, we untied from the mooring and headed out on the 635 mile trip to Barbados, the last leg of our Atlantic crossing.

Cape Town to Saint Helena (2013)

2013-06-27T11:39:00.000-07:00

After waiting close to a week for the winds in Cape Town to settle down, we headed out on January 31^st. Our next stop would be the island of Saint Helena, 1,700 miles to the northwest. The strategy for this leg of the trip is to wait for a few days of light winds in Cape Town and make it as far north as possible before the next big blow comes. In the case of Cape Town, light winds usually mean 20 – 30 knots.

This passage is normally quite boisterous for the first few days, and our trip was no exception. We had S to SE winds at 20-25 knots for the first four days, with a sizable SW swell, and Saviah carried us along at over 6 knots, knocking off 150 miles a day. At this pace, we began to think we could reach Saint Helena in 11 days.

On our fifth day out, the winds lightened, which typically happens near the tropics. We did everything we could to maintain our speed, but our average daily run over the next six days dropped to a disappointing 109 miles. We sailed with our big spinnaker for two days, until one night a very mild squall with gusts up to 15 knots swept through. This sail was already near the end of its life, and a little bit more pressure from a gust caused the sail to rip all the way across, about four feet from the head. No longer held on top, the sail went forward and into the water.

This happened around 2 am, when Di was on watch, and she ran forward and pulled in all 500+ square feet of sail and piled it on deck. It was good that she got it out of the water quickly before we ran over it, which could have created a tangled mess under the keel. By the time Andrew woke up and ran up top, the whole thing was pretty much over.

We discussed switching out to the smaller gennaker, but the halyard was stuck at the top of the mast, along with the head of the spinnaker. So we did our best with the poled out genoa, although this is our favorite sail and hearing it luff for days on end is very frustrating. By day 11, we had almost no wind at all and averaged only 60 miles for the following three days. It seemed that the current was likely responsible for at least half of those miles.

During these periods of very light winds, we tried to be patient and wait it out rather than motor. We were uncertain of refueling options in Saint Helena and decided to save our diesel for crossing the ITCZ (doldrums) on the next passage. This made for some very long days, but at least the seas were flat.

On day 14, the SE trade winds filled in at 10-12 knots, and Saviah was finally moving along a bit faster. We approached Saint Helena at night after 16 days at sea on what ended up being one of our slowest passages, averaging only 106 miles per day. We opted to heave-to for the night and sailed around to the leeward side of the island the next morning after sunrise.

Saint Helena is an island of volcanic origin, measuring approximately five miles by ten miles. It was originally claimed by the Portuguese and then later by both the Dutch and English and was an important stopover for ships going from Europe to Asia before the opening of the Suez Canal. The English were the first to fortify and colonize the island, and it remains one of the oldest British colonies and one of the most isolated islands in the world. There are currently about 4,300 residents living here, mostly descendants of the original English settlers, soldiers and their slaves.

James Bay, Saint Helena

Approaching the city of Jamestown, we were a bit nervous as the information we had showed the primary anchorage in 90 feet of water with a very steeply sloping sea floor. In order to anchor in water that deep, we would need to put out all 250 ft of our chain, at about a pound per foot, in addition to our oversized 55 lb anchor. Our windlass is still broken and the thought of pulling up all of that weight by hand when it was time to go was daunting. We also read that because of the steep ocean floor many boats have problems dragging off to sea.

As we neared the anchorage, we were pleasantly surprised to see seven other cruising boats there, and all were tied up to moorings with another 15 available nearby. We called the port on the VHF and got permission to tie up to one. Apparently they were installed just a few months prior, which was a big relief.

After Saviah was moored, one of the small ferry boats stopped by, and the driver said he would pick us up in an hour. There is a wharf on the other side of the bay with a concrete wall where it is possible to land a dinghy. Even when the winds are light and the ocean swell is minimal, there still seems to be a sizeable swell that rolls into the wharf, making a dinghy landing very wet and often dangerous.

Fortunately, the port provides a ferry service that runs cruisers and the local fisherman from their boats to the wharf and back again throughout the day. This means you can arrive at shore dry and with your dinghy in one piece, although it still takes a bit of coordination to get on and off of the small ferry boat as it rises and falls in the swell. Near the wall, several lengths of knotted rope hang down for you to grab and swing onto the concrete, while the boat drops from under you.

Once ashore, our first priority was to clear in with the officials in Jamestown. This is the primary town and capital of the island, sitting at the bottom of a long and narrow valley with steep, bare cliffs rising up on both sides. We asked for directions to the immigration office and were told to cross over the moat that leads into town, and look for the police station across the street from the castle. There were many old colonial buildings lining the narrow streets, and it was interesting to imagine all of the history that has taken place in this remote island since it was settled 350 years ago.

Jamestown

Our next stop was the bank. There aren’t any ATM’s on the island, so we needed to exchange our US dollars. The island has its own currency, the Saint Helena pound, which is on par with the pound sterling. We then stopped at the local grocery store to stock up on fresh produce. The supply ship apparently hadn’t been in port in a while, and most of what we found looked a bit tired. The only produce we ended up buying were a few potatoes and onions. They did have fresh bread, eggs and cheese, which we were happy to see.

The next day, we took the ferry back into Jamestown, to explore the city and get a bit of exercise. The first thing we did was to climb Jacob’s Ladder. This is an inclined plane that was built in 1892 to haul manure up to the fort on Ladder Hill and to bring goods back down. There are 699 steps to the top, and after sitting on the boat for the last 16 days, it was not easy.

Jacob's Ladder

Since we needed to start the next leg of our Atlantic crossing in four of five days, we decided to do one of the local tours and see as much of the island as we could during our brief visit. One of the local guides said he would show us around, and five other cruisers were also interested. The next morning seven of us piled into a van and headed out to see the island.

Our guide, Robert, was born and raised on Saint Helena and since he is 70 years old, he had personally witnessed some of the local history. He told us about two shipwrecks in the bay, including the tanker, RFA Darkdale, which was sunk in the harbor by a German U-boat during WWII. The other was the story of the SS Papanui, a passenger ship that caught fire and sank with 364 people on board. Everyone on that ship survived, and you can still see the top of it sticking up out of the water in the mooring field.

After a quick tour of Jamestown, we headed out of the city on the narrow winding roads. The barren cliff walls surrounding the island quickly gave way to the lush green forests of the interior, and Robert explained some of the traffic laws to us. Since Saint Helena is a British island, the rules state that you are supposed to drive on the left hand side of the road. This is mostly a moot point though, as the roads that traverse the island are only one lane. When two cars need to pass, the one traveling downhill must yield to the one going uphill. There isn’t always room to pass, so when two cars come together often one will have to back-up quite a distance before finding a place to pull over. Since there isn’t a lot of traffic on the island, it doesn’t slow things down much.

Because Saint Helena is so remote, the British used it as a place of exile, most notably for Napoleon Bonaparte. He was taken here in 1815 after he was defeated at Waterloo and only a few months after he escaped from his first place of exile at the island of Elba. Despite its remoteness, the British were concerned that there could be another escape attempt so the island was strongly garrisoned, including naval ships circling offshore.

Just outside of Jamestown, our first stop on the tour was the Briars estate, where Napoleon spent his first two months on the island with a local family. A few months later, he moved into his residence, Longwood House, where he spent the last six years of his life. They did an interesting tour of the house and talked about his day-to-day life, and we were able to view many of the artifacts from his time there.

The next stop was Napoleon’s original grave, a few miles from the house in a location he requested. This is a beautiful area that he often visited and is still very well maintained with lush gardens all around, although the body was exhumed and moved to Paris almost 25 years after he died. Since the French and English couldn’t agree what to put on it, his tombstone is blank.

Longwood House, Napoleon's original grave site

Later that afternoon, we drove around more of the island and then made a quick stop at Plantation House. This has been the official residence of the Governor since it was built in 1792. There are five giant tortoises the roam around the grounds of the mansion, including Jonathon, who is estimated to be 178 years old.

views of the island, Plantation House with giant tortoise

We also went by the site where the new airport is being built. Since there isn’t an airport now, the only way on and off the island is on the RMS Saint Helena, which runs back and forth from the island to Cape Town, approximately 20 times a year. This is one of the last royal mail ships being used today, and not only does it bring passengers, but it is also doubles as a cargo ship, delivering supplies to the island.

The economy in Saint Helena is quite weak and almost entirely sustained by aid from the British government. Even tourism on the island is insignificant since getting there involves taking one of the infrequent 1,700 mile boat rides from South Africa. Having an airport is expected to encourage economic development and kick start the tourism industry, with up to 30,000 visitors expected annually. They are even building several five star resorts, and Robert talked at length about how this will change the island when it is completed in 2016.

After all our sight-seeing, it was time to do a few projects on the boat so we could be on our way. The first priority was to figure out a way to rig Saviah with twin headsails. Since our initial 2,000 miles towards the Caribbean would likely be dead downwind, we decided that twin-jibs would be much better than using either a single poled out sail or going wing-on-wing (jib and main set on opposite sides). It would give us more sail area for the light winds expected, as well as reduce the rolling motion, which can often be bad when sailing downwind.

We planned to use our furled genoa on one side and the gennaker on the other. Each would need to be poled out, but we only had one whisker pole. So Andrew figured out a way to use the mast from our sailing dinghy as another pole. He made a connection for it at the mast and then found a way to attach a block at the end for the sheet, as well as connections for guy lines and a topping lift to keep it in place. It wasn’t perfect, as the sheets would likely be subject to some chafe, and it was a couple feet shorter than would be ideal, but it was better than nothing.

The next step was to go aloft to retrieve our spinnaker halyard and the remains of our spinnaker, as well as to rig another topping lift for the new pole. This would normally be very simple, but there was a sizable swell in the anchorage. As the boat rocked from side to side, Andrew was continually getting slammed into the mast and shrouds. What would have normally taken five minutes took half an hour, and by the time he came down, he was pretty beat up and a little sea sick as well.

Lastly, we noticed the gimbal pegs on our stove were wearing down again. We had already made repairs twice, but they weren’t holding. It would be big trouble if they broke at sea, with our 50+ pound stove loose in the cabin on a rolling boat. Andrew made another temporary repair with some epoxy and an o-ring that would hopefully get us to Barbados, where our new gimbal pegs would be waiting.

On our last day on the island, we filled up on water and spent the last of our Saint Helena pounds on what little fresh produce we could find. We also spent some time getting exercise before our passage, which would likely be the longest we would ever do. We did another hike up the 699 steps at Jacob’s ladder and walked around the dilapidated forts on either side of town.

On February 21^st, having cleared out with customs and immigration the previous day, we slipped the mooring lines and set sail for French Guiana, 3,100 miles to the northwest.

South Africa - Cape Town (2013)

2013-06-17T10:14:00.000-07:00

We departed Knysna on the morning of January 6^th for the 290 mile sail to Cape Town. This part of the coastline also has its fair share of hazards, so we were hopeful that our two-day weather window would hold. Conditions in the harbor entrance were calm as we motored through the Knysna Heads and pointed west for our last leg in the Indian Ocean. Winds were light on the first day, and we motor-sailed for a while to maintain speed in order to make it to port before the next big blow.

We had an uneventful first day, as the winds remained light and the swell continued to diminish further offshore. The next morning the winds filled in at 15 knots from the SSE, and we sailed along at six knots toward our first important landmark on the passage. From 10 miles offshore, we could see Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point on the African continent. Cape Agulhas is an unspectacular rocky headland and the lesser known of the two South African capes, but this is the point where the Indian Ocean meets the Atlantic Ocean.

As we sailed into the Atlantic, we reflected over the last four months and 6,000 miles of sailing from Indonesia to South Africa. We had always considered the Indian Ocean a big scary body of water with storms and pirates and other challenges to test our relatively new sailing skills. Although the winds were a bit stronger here, our heavy displacement boat is in her element in a fresh breeze. We actually enjoyed this brisk sailing much better than that of the Pacific, which was plagued with unstable weather systems bringing squalls and inconsistent winds. In fact, we were lucky to have winds over 30 knots on only a few brief occasions in the Indian Ocean. Hopefully the Atlantic will treat us as well.

On our first night in the Atlantic and the second of this passage, the winds held steady and slowly shifted more to the south. By midnight, we could see the flash off our beam from the distant lighthouses near the Cape of Good Hope. Sailing on a beam reach in 15 knots of wind and four foot seas on a cloudless night can be an amazing experience, but it was especially rewarding going around what was originally named the Cape of Storms. Many ships have been lost in these waters, and we were happy to have made it around the cape before the next low pressure system arrived.

In the early morning hours, we could tell that it wasn’t just a new ocean we were in, but a new current. At Cape Agulhas, the warm Agulhas Current meets the icy Benguela Current going north from Antarctica and continuing up the west coast of the African continent. The two currents collide and mix in the 90 mile area between Cape Agulhas and the Cape of Good Hope, and the water temperature starts to decrease.

Water temperatures can vary greatly where the currents are coming together between the two capes, but by the time you get west of the Cape of Good Hope, the cold Benguela Current dominates. Every hour the air temperature dropped a little, and by the time the sun rose and the Cape Peninsula came into view, we had to dig out our sweaters and heavy jackets again.

Ideal sailing conditions continued as we made the last 25 miles north into Cape Town. As the southern suburb of Green Point was just off our beam, we hailed port control on VHF to get permission to enter the harbor. As we rounded the corner, Cape Town came into view. This has to be one of the most picturesque cities in the world. It sits at the bottom of a natural amphitheater called the City Bowl and is bordered by the mountains of Signal Hill, Lion’s Head, Devil’s Peak and the most prominent, Table Mountain, with its near vertical cliffs and flat-topped summit over 3,300 ft tall.

suburb of Green Point and the outer harbor Port of Cape Town

Passing through the outer harbor, we noticed the first of two pedestrian bridges that needed to be raised so we could reach the inner harbor. The bridge operators didn’t respond to our calls on the VHF, so we just nosed up to the first bridge. They apparently knew what we wanted and opened it as we approached. The tourists along the water’s edge lined up and watched us go through, and the second bridge opened a few minutes later.

By noon on January 8^th, Saviah was moored at the Victoria and Alfred (V & A) Waterfront Marina right in the heart of Cape Town. The marina is part of a big development and is surrounded by high-end condominiums, hotels and restaurants, with Table Mountain looming in the background. We were surprised to find dozens of rambunctious sea lions that also call the marina home. They provide hours of entertainment for tourists but are sometimes a nuisance for boaters. Their barks/growls/hisses can be heard day and night. They like to lounge on the docks, and if they pick one near your boat, unpleasant smells often waft through the cabin.

V&A Waterfront Marina

Cape Town is a beautiful cosmopolitan city, and the second most populated in South Africa with 3.75 million people. The biggest tourist attraction is the V&A Waterfront, which was right at our doorstep. This development was built on a portion of the original Port of Cape Town docks. It is a working harbor where you can watch fishing boats and cargo ships come and go as well as recreational boats. There are also tour boats that visit nearby Robben Island, which is the location of the maximum security prison that held Nelson Mandela and other political activists years ago.

It is also one of the city's most popular shopping venues, with several hundred shops and restaurants. There are many local vendors selling crafts and food, as well as some very entertaining street performers. We were happy to find a huge grocery store a short walk from the marina where we could provision without needing a cab or bus.

V&A Waterfront

For exercise, it was nice to run on the waterfront trail from the V&A to the suburb of Green Point. We also spent some time walking around downtown to visit the park on Government Avenue and the oldest structure in Cape Town, which is the Iziko Castle of Good Hope, built by the Dutch in the 17^th century. This pentagon shaped fort surrounded by a moat sits amid the high rise buildings in Cape Town’s business district.

Iziko Castle of Good Hope and Mouille Point Lighthouse

Table Mountain towers over the city and is another big tourist attraction that we had to see up close. The summit is easily reached via a cable car that carries passengers up and down all day. We opted for the more challenging ascent and hiked up with some other cruisers, Lars and Allison on s/v Twister. We hit the trail at 6 am, before it got too hot, and climbed up the very steep terrain. An hour and a half later, legs burning and out of breath, we were at the summit (3,570 ft) looking down on the city and beyond. There were also great views of the Cape of Good Hope and False Bay as well as the two peaks, Devil's Peak and Lion's Head on either side. We spent a couple hours hiking around on the trails on top of the plateau and then took the cable car back down.

views from the top of Table Mountain

After spending a week in the city, we wanted to explore some of the surrounding area. We rented a car and headed south to spend the day on the Cape Peninsula, the mountainous spine that goes 25 miles south from Cape Town to the Cape of Good Hope and is part of the South African National Park system. The trip took us along Chapman’s Peak Drive. This is a very scenic route where much of the road was cut right into the cliff face at dizzying heights over the Atlantic Ocean. The views over the coastline on this stretch were incredible.

Slangkop Lighthouse and Cape of Good Hope National Park

Once in the park, we did the short hike to the lighthouses at Cape Point. There are actually two capes at the end of this peninsula. On the southwest side is the famous Cape of Good Hope, which is more well-known because it sticks out a little further south, but it is low lying and not very exciting. The other point on the southeast side of the peninsula is Cape Point, the more dramatic of the two. This narrow piece of land juts out into the water with very steep cliffs rising to over 800 feet.

Cape Point is also where the lighthouses on the peninsula are located, as it is a much higher platform. The original was built on the top at 817 feet, but it was not as effective because it was often shrouded in fog due to its higher elevation. Later after the shipwreck of the Lusitania in 1911, they built the new and more powerful one, lower down on the cliff wall at 285 feet.

Cape Point

We then did the one and a half mile hike from Cape Point to the Cape of Good Hope. This point was originally named the Cape of Storms, but was later changed to the more optimistic name as it opened up trading to the Far East. The cape itself wasn’t very exciting, but it was a really nice walk over there, much of which was on a boardwalk with a beautiful beach below.

Cape of Good Hope

After the cape, we drove back north following the eastern side of the peninsula and stopped near Simon’s Town to see the colony of African Penguins that live in the area. These penguins are on the endangered species list, but there are over 2,000 of them in False Bay, living off mainly squid and other shoal fish that flourish in these waters. The beach where we first spotted them was also a popular swimming area, and it was surprising to see people sunbathing and wading in the water alongside these animals. A little further north there was another viewing area with a boardwalk to keep people off the beach. There must have been hundreds of penguins here walking around and sitting in their shallow pits in the sand. Since these birds can’t fly, they have to dig their nests in the ground, which makes their eggs easy prey for other animals.

African Penguins

After our tour of the Cape Peninsula, we headed about 30 miles east of Cape Town to spend a couple days in the Stellenbosch area. This town lies at the foot of the Cape Fold mountain range. The well-drained, hilly terrain and the regional climate are ideal for viticulture, and there are hundreds of wineries in the area. With vineyards and orchards dotting the slopes of the mountains and lots of old Cape Dutch manor houses, this was another beautiful spot.

We also visited nearby Franschhoek (Dutch for “French corner”), which is one of the oldest settlements in South Africa, founded by a group French Huguenots that fled to this area in the 17th century. There is still a very big French influence here and many wineries and great restaurants as well.

Stellenbosch and Franschhoek

After a few days of inland travel, it was time to get back to Saviah and start looking for a good weather window to head north. Originally, our plan was to sail 750 miles up the coast to Walvis Bay, Namibia to see the Namib Desert. It wouldn’t be a long stop, as we had recently learned that our friends were coming to visit us in Barbados in early April, and we had a lot of ground to cover before then.

Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate with us this time, and we ended up waiting a week for a good weather window. This gave us time to do some more projects, like replacing our macerator pump, installing some cabin fans and building a mount for the new outboard engine that we recently bought. We also installed the burglar bars that we had fabricated for our three hatches in anticipation of spending time in the Caribbean and South/Central America. It was nice to get some of these projects done, but the delay meant that we would need to skip Namibia, or we would really be pushing it to make it to Barbados by early April.

During our week of waiting, we had typical Cape Town weather with several days of sustained 30 – 40 knot winds, gusting to 50 knots at times. Finally, on January 31^st, the winds settled down some. We cleared out with customs and immigration and said farewell to South Africa. We had a wonderful three months exploring this diverse country. Our next stop is Saint Helena, the small British island in the South Atlantic, 1,700 miles to the northwest.

South Africa - Knysna, Addo, Tsitsikamma (2012)

2013-06-07T06:24:00.000-07:00

Back at the Durban marina, we shifted into passage mode and prepped for our trip south. The passage down the coast is another potentially dangerous one. The Agulhas Current flows fastest along this stretch, reaching speeds of up to six knots. Just like the tail end of the passage to South Africa, we would have to deal with this current and the effects of the southwesterly winds that come through every few days, causing large breaking seas.

Although this current can cause a dangerous sea state, it can also be a blessing. When the winds are favorable, it should make for some very fast sailing, and we could potentially log some 200 mile days. The strategy is to use it to your advantage to sail down the coast quickly, while watching for signs of changing weather to ensure you head inshore and leave the current before a low arrives. During the passage, we will keep a close eye on the barometer, which should provide some warning of a low approaching.

Having decent weather on the first leg of the trip is crucial, as there are no places to stop along this rugged coast until East London, 250 miles south. After that, protected harbors where we could wait out bad weather appear more frequently. It will be a relief to make it safely as far as East London, but further would be better. East London is a commercial port and not a great place to stop if you don’t have to. We really wanted to make it all the way to Knysna, 550 miles away. The locals recommended this place as a lovely resort town and an excellent place to spend the holidays.

We paid close attention to the coastal forecasts during our stay in Durban in order to familiarize ourselves with the weather patterns. As we prepared Saviah for passage, we noticed what looked like one of the longest periods between two low pressure systems that we had seen yet. It appeared that the wind would shift to northeasterly in just a couple days and may last as long as five days.

We walked down the street to Cruising Connections to talk to Tony, the owner and a very knowledgeable local cruiser. He called the airport down the coast to get updated barometric pressure to compare with the local pressure. You want to leave when the barometer has topped out at the end of a southwesterly blow, and also make sure conditions are stable down the coast. Tony agreed that it appeared to be a very good window.

So we worked hard to get the boat ready and still had time to see a concert before we left. The South African band Ladysmith Black Mambazo was playing at the botanical gardens. They are an all-male a cappella group that recorded with Paul Simon on a couple of albums. We went to the show with Bruce and June on the Canadian boat Ainia. They put on a great show and even sang a few Christmas songs. It was a nice distraction from the next passage.

On December 17^th, Saviah was ready and the forecast remained good as we motored out of Durban Harbor. The passage started out with no wind and minimal seas as the southwesterlies that had been blowing for several days finally died, but the northeasterlies hadn’t filled in yet. We weren’t going to sit and wait for wind, so we motored for a bit the first day, and hoisted the sails when it finally arrived. On our second day, the northeasterlies strengthened to 20-25 knots. With the nice boost from the Agulhas Current, we flew along at nine to ten knots for two days. We sailed past East London during the afternoon of the 19^th, and breathed a sigh of relief as we now had quite a few more options for safe harbors. At this rate, we would make the 550 miles to Knysna in less than three days.

Unfortunately, entering the port of Knysna presents its own challenges. The bay can only be entered in just the right conditions. There are two large sandstone cliffs, called the Knysna Heads, on either side of the entrance. The channel between the two is extremely narrow, passing over two sand bars, with several large rocks scattered about and lying just below the surface. The tide changes about every six hours and massive amounts of water ebb and flow through the channel causing current that reaches over six knots at times. This can cause big breaking seas right at the entrance when the wind blows against the tide. Even when there isn’t a big swell, we wouldn’t be able to control the boat going with the current or have enough speed to go against it when it’s flowing fast. The British Royal Navy once called this the most dangerous harbor entrance in the world.

The local advice is to time your entry for one hour before high tide and only when the sea state is good. There are two high tides per day, but generally only one during daylight hours. With 24 hours before the next favorable tide cycle, we had only 150 miles to go. We had been averaging about 200 miles per day and thought this would be no problem.

That afternoon the wind died as we passed Port Elizabeth, the next good harbor along the coast. We turned the motor on to keep up our pace and then the fog rolled in. Before we knew it, visibility was less than 100 ft. Not good when you are in an area of major commercial shipping and have no radar. After about 20 minutes, we called out a sécurité on the VHF, letting other ships in the area know our position and course. We were pleasantly surprised when the South African coast guard responded, made sure we were ok and announced our sécurité for us (they have much better range) every 30 minutes until the fog cleared up a couple hours later.

After the fog cleared, the wind filled in at 10-15 knots, but unfortunately came out of the southwest. This meant that we were closed hauled and the swell quickly built to six to eight feet. There was no way we would make it by the following morning. Bashing into the waves was killing our speed, and it was making for an uncomfortable motion. We debated heading into Port Elizabeth, but the barometer was steady, and all of our current weather information indicated we should have easterly winds. Since we were on the edge of the current and in a good position to leave it and run to Port Elizabeth if the weather deteriorated, we opted to heave-to and wait to see if this was just a short-term shift.

About 12 hours later, the wind died altogether and then fresh SE winds filled in. We were underway again making eight to nine knots, with a boost from the current. By early afternoon, we were within about 30 miles of the Knysna entrance. We were eight hours late for the last high tide and 16 hours early for the next. So we hove-to again and waited as the wind continued to build. It blew 20 to 30 knots all night and the seas built to 8 to 10 ft, making for an uncomfortable evening.

The next morning, the winds lightened a bit, but we were a little nervous that the swell would be too high to go through the heads. As we neared the harbor, Di called the NSRI (National Sea Rescue Institute) in Knysna to ask about conditions. The man on watch said he had just come through the entrance himself, and that it was safe. We arrived at the heads at 10 am, just before high tide and slowly motored through the entrance, making sure to line up the two distant markers showing the safe course. It was a bit stressful threading our way through the hazards, and we breathed a big sigh of relief as Saviah reached the calm waters inside the lagoon.

As we motored to the other side, we contacted the Knysna Yacht Club to see if we could get a berth in the marina. We talked to Roger, the commodore, who was very welcoming and helped arrange a marina berth for us. The slips are actually owned by individuals, and there generally aren’t any vacancies. Lucky for us, another club member had just hauled his boat out of the water and said we could rent his slip for our stay. We were really excited to have completed another difficult passage and be securely moored in the marina.

Knysna lagoon and marina

The picturesque town of Knysna is situated on the northern shore of an 11 mile wide estuary. The neighborhoods along the edge of the estuary and on the islands within it are built up with high end homes. Many of these are seasonal residences for affluent South Africans. The hub of the area is the development around the marina, where there are dozens of restaurants and retail shops. This is also where the yacht club is located. Since it is not a commercial port, the harbor is very clean and a haven for recreational boaters.

Although it is probably a sleepy little town most of the year, we arrived just a few days before Christmas, and it was bustling with activity. It was a great place to spend the holidays, although we would have much rather spent the time back home with our family and friends. To make it feel more festive on board, Di decorated Saviah with lights and a small Christmas tree.

While there, we took advantage of a nearby running trail along the lagoon, trying to get back into shape. We also spent time at the yacht club since they were kind enough to give us a free temporary membership. We took advantage of the facilities and the wi-fi connection and got to know some of the locals. They even invited us to their big New Year’s party at the yacht club.

When the new year rolled around, we still had some time to kill before our next passage to Cape Town, as the marinas are generally full until the second week in January, and anchoring isn’t allowed. Since traveling in South Africa is inexpensive, we decided to spend a few more days inland for another short safari trip. There is another good game park a couple hundred miles down the coast, and some of the yacht club members gave us recommendations for other places to see on the way.

We picked up our rental car and headed east down the coastal highway to Addo Elephant National Park. The park was founded about 80 years ago to provide a sanctuary for the remaining elephants in the area. Before that, they had become a nuisance for the local farmers and were killed by the hundreds until there were only 16 remaining in the area. Thanks to the park, the population has rebounded, and now there are over 600 within its boundaries. We had the best elephant viewings here, as there was a waterhole right by the road where we watched 50 plus elephants as they played in the water and mud.

There are several animals that we spotted here that we didn’t see in Kruger. We saw dozens of black-backed jackal and hundreds of red hartebeest, another type of antelope.

While we were in Kruger, we heard about the flightless dung beetle, but didn’t actually see any. They were plentiful in Addo, and they are very serious about preserving them. There are “dung beetle right-of-way” signs all over the park, and you are warned not to run over the elephant dung on the roads. This is because the beetles use the dung to make food balls, which they roll down the road, or brood balls, where they lay their eggs inside. This process apparently redistributes the dung and speeds up decomposition, which helps to recycle the nutrients. They used to be wide spread, but their populations are now dwindling, probably because they hang out on the roads.

Addo also has the big 5, but in our short stay, we were only able to spot three of them: the elephant, buffalo and lion. Our lion sightings more than made up for it though, coming across them on five different occasions. In Kruger, we had only seen females, but the male lions are much more striking, with their long manes. Most of them were on the side of the road, just a few feet from the car.

We also saw many of the usual suspects: warthogs, zebras and numerous birds.

Although we didn’t see as many different kinds of animals, we did better than Kruger in terms of close encounters and decided to extend our stay by a day. On the way out, we exited the park on the south side and got on the N2 for the drive back west.

There are many things to see and do between Addo and Knysna. Since we spent longer than planned in the game park, there was only time for a quick stop as we needed to return the rental car. We decided to go into Tsitsikamma National Park and check out the area at the mouth of the Storms River. This is a generally rugged coastline where big breakers crash against the cliff walls, but there were also some stretches of nice beaches as well.

We parked the car and did the short hike out to the main attraction, which are the suspension bridges. There are several of these bridges that were originally built in 1969 where the Storms River meets the Indian Ocean. The longest spans 250ft over the mouth of the river, and there are three or four others that stretch from rock to rock over the western bank. When big swells come in and break against the rocks, you can get soaked if you happen to be standing on these bridges.

Storms River Mouth Suspension Bridge and a couple of rock dassies

We spent a few hours enjoying the park before heading back to Knysna, where it was time for us to get ready for our next jump west. Leon was ready to get his boat back in the slip that we were occupying, and the marinas in Cape Town were starting to empty out and would likely have room for us. We got the boat ready, checked the weather and consulted with a few of the yacht club members for advice. After a few days back at the boat, it looked like we had a good window with light winds to start the next leg down the coast.

The first challenge was just getting out of the bay. Just as entering the Knysna Heads must be attempted only in good conditions and in just the right part of the tide cycle, the same applies on the way out. The morning we were ready to go, we got up early and jogged over to the eastern head to get a look at the pass. The winds were light, but the southerly swell was sizable, creating six to eight foot breakers across the entrance. In the marina, there was a 50 ft sailboat with a local crew of six also trying to get out. They had motored out to the entrance and watched the swell for several hours that morning before turning back. It was a reminder of how treacherous the channel can be if conditions are not right.

Knysna Heads with breakers

It was going to be very disappointing if we had a good weather window, but were stuck in the bay. We continued to monitor the forecast and early the next day, crew on the other sailboat went out to the entrance in their dinghy. They came back and reported that it was passable. Unfortunately, we only had two days left of what looked like a three day favorable weather window. We decided to go for it and an hour later untied the dock lines and headed out of the bay for the 290 mile trip to Cape Town.

South Africa - Kruger NP and Drakensberg (2012)

2013-05-26T11:34:00.000-07:00

After spending a few days in Blyde River Canyon, we made the short drive to Kruger National Park. This is one of the oldest and largest game reserves in Africa, extending 220 miles from north to south and averaging about 40 miles wide. We entered the park on the southwest side at the Phabeni Gate. Neither of us had been on safari before so we weren’t sure what to expect. We checked in at the gate and got some information and a map.

Within the park, there are 21 rest camps, as well as several high-end private safari lodges, which were way out of our price range. The rest camps are surrounded by an electric fence with a guarded gate where you can come and go. This keeps most of the animals out, but some of the smaller ones and especially the baboons are still able to make it inside. The gates generally open around 5:30 am and close at 6:30 pm. You have to be in before they close, or they charge you a large fee to open them back up.

Within the rest camps, there are various types of lodging, from campsites to small huts. Located throughout the camps are communal bathrooms with showers and communal cooking stations. The two camps that we stayed in where the largest in the park and had the most amenities, including a restaurant, grocery store and a gas station.

Our first camp was Skukuza, where we stayed in a safari tent. The tents were on cement slabs, with two single beds and a small refrigerator inside. Ours was along the perimeter of the camp, with our braai (Afrikaans word for barbecue) right by the fence. Each night, a pack of hyenas prowled along the outside of the fence, smelling the meat on the grill. There are signs everywhere to not feed the animals, but I’m sure some people have ignored those warnings. It was unnerving to have such a dangerous animal so close, staring back at you a few feet away through the fence. And the noises these animals made were bizarre. We now know where the expression “laugh like a hyena” comes from.

Skukuza rest camp

For those who aren’t staying at one of the high-end private safari lodges, there are a couple of ways to see the park. You can drive around in your car, or you can sign up for one of the organized tours in a big safari jeep led by park rangers. The tours are inexpensive, and you have the advantage of an experienced guide, a much higher viewing platform (compared to our tiny rental car), and a group of people to help spot the animals. We decided to try a tour once and signed up for the early morning one that left at 4 am. It was interesting to go with a guide, but we didn’t do any better in terms of spotting animals and found that we preferred to just drive around on our own.

Doing a self-drive tour involves cruising down the many paved and dirt roads that wind through the park at about 10 – 15 mph. When you spot an animal and you want to stop for a while and watch it, you can pull over to either side. Since traffic is moving so slowly, it isn’t a problem to be in the wrong lane and if there is a good spotting, it isn’t uncommon to have 10 cars lumped together pointed all different directions and blocking the road. There are speed limits in the park at 45 kph (28 mph) for paved roads and 35 kph (22 mph) for dirt roads, and they are strictly enforced. This is a good thing as drivers are often looking off into the bush and not always in their own lane. It is also good because animals could jump in front of your car, or maybe they are just sitting or napping in the middle of the road.

animal crossing

While out of the gated camps, you aren’t allowed to get out of your car for obvious safety reasons. In fact, if you have a flat tire, you are supposed to just wait for another car to come by and have them send word to the park rangers at a nearby camp, who will come help and keep watch. There was one area that you were allowed to leave your car on the south side of the park on the Crocodile River. We came down to look for a pride of lions that were reportedly spotted in the area and saw that there was a viewing area. There was a ranger perched up the hill on a rock that whistled at us and waved us up. We nervously got out of the car and walked up to the viewpoint. The ranger had a gun, which looked more like an antique than something capable of taking down a lion. There were nice views from up on the rock, and the ranger pointed out the crocodiles and hippos in the water below and some paintings in the rocks that were left years ago by the San Bushman.

For most of our stay in the park, we rose early in the morning and stopped by the camp headquarters. Here they had two big maps of the park where people would mark the animals seen during the day with colored magnets. One map was for the current day and the other for the previous day. We mainly looked to see where the big cats were spotted and then planned our route around that. We left the camps as soon as the gates opened, returning for a few hours during the hottest part of the day, and heading back out for the afternoon. This was because you more likely to spot the animals during the cooler morning and early evening, and it was really hot driving around in the middle of the day.

One of the carry overs from the old safari days, which were primarily trophy-hunting expeditions, is the notion of the “big five” animals. These are the elephant, buffalo, rhino, lion and leopard. It is a goal of most of people who go on a safari to check these off the list. We saw our first one within minutes of driving into the park when a herd of elephants were eating along the side of the road. They were huge and left a trail of demolished trees and bushes in their wake. There are nearly 12,000 elephants in the park, and they were very easy to spot. This is the world’s largest land animal and probably the most intimidating when you are sitting next to them in a car that is smaller than they are. It’s not common, but they can be aggressive, and we had an encounter with one that was walking down the side of the road. We tried to pass it, but it wouldn’t let us. As we got closer, it turned around and blocked the whole road, raising its trunk and stomping its feet. We did a u-turn and headed back the other direction.

About an hour after spotting the elephants, we came across a large herd of buffalo crossing the road. We were only a couple hours in the park, and we had already seen two of the big five. This was another animal that we saw quite a bit throughout the park, usually when a very large herd was crossing the road, one or two at a time. We often had to wait for over 30 minutes for the whole herd to get through. This was also an animal that you don’t want to rush, as they can be temperamental and have been known to charge cars. It was really interesting to see them around the watering hole during the heat of the day when they roll around and emerge covered in a thick coat of mud to keep cool.

There are two kinds of rhinoceros in the park – the white and black. They are both actually a similar color, but the white rhino has a wide mouth that is better suited for grazing and the black rhino has more of a V-shaped mouth that is better for plucking twigs. We saw about a dozen white rhinos, but no black rhinos. Both types are still being poached today, as their horns are believed to be an aphrodisiac and fetch a large amount of money in Asia. There are only a few hundred of the black rhinos left in the world, and they are considered critically endangered. The park service is doing what they can to stop poaching, using helicopters and apparently drones to help spot the poachers. While we were there, it seemed that poachers had been spotted, as a helicopter flew over us, very close to the ground. Shortly after, a truck filled with dogs and machine gun wielding police passed us at about five times the speed limit.

The big cats are probably the most exciting of the animals to see and the most difficult to spot. They are mostly nocturnal, and it didn’t help that we visited during the summer when the bush is at its most dense. They eluded us for several days, and our first spotting was three lions napping on the far end of a waterhole. Then a couple days before we left, we were lucky to see four cars stopped in the road just as we left the camp at 6 am. We pulled up and parked but couldn’t see anything. People in another car told us there were four lions in the bush, and a few minutes later two of them emerged right in front of us. They wandered through the parked cars like a couple of exhibitionists, stretching and yawning and then laid down in the middle of the road for a nap. We watched them for about thirty minutes before they headed back into the bush and out of view.

Halfway through our stay, we had a stretch of good luck and saw four different leopards. The first had just dragged its kill (an impala) up into a tree about 100 ft from the road and was having lunch. These cats can drag prey up to three times their weight up into the canopy, keeping it out of reach of other predators. There were at least twenty cars backed up trying to get a look.

An hour later, we were driving down the road, and Andrew spotted another leopard lounging in a tree, this one much closer to the road. Being the first to see it, we had a prime spot to take some pictures as he slowly stood, stretched, and climbed down from the tree.

The following morning, we drove the same road, and yet another leopard came walking out of the bush right in front of our car. It slowly walked by, fixing his eyes on Andrew as he frantically snapped pictures. As it passed within a few feet of the car, he had to put the camera down and roll up the window. Later that day, we could hardly believe our luck when we happened upon another leopard sitting on the side of the road. While leopards are generally solitary animals that don’t make much noise, this one seemed to be injured and made a strange moaning/howling sound.

The most prevalent animal in the park is the antelope. These are similar to deer, except that instead of seasonal antlers, they have permanent horns. There are quite a few different antelope in the park and we saw waterbuck, the beautiful greater kudu, blue wildebeest, the small klipspringer and many impala. In fact, there are around 1.5 million impala alone in Kruger. After a few days, we rarely stopped when we saw antelope.

blue wildebeest, greater kudu, impala, klipspringer, waterbuck

Besides the big five and antelope, there are a wide variety of other animals in the park. In fact there are 147 specials of mammals in the park alone. Di’s favorite animal was the giraffe, and we saw them just about every day. We also enjoyed seeing the zebras, which were also prevalent and provided some entertainment with their spastic gait. We usually spent about an hour parked in front of one of the waterholes every day and watched the hippos, crocodiles and other animals drinking and taking a dip to cool off. There were also plenty of monkeys, baboons, warthogs and giant lizards to name a few. The only thing that we really wanted to see and didn’t was the cheetah.

common hippopotamus

Burchell's zebra

southern giraffe

chacma baboon

leopard tortoise, Nile crocodile, Nile monitor, vervet monkey, warthog, lizard

Before we came to the park, we didn’t even think about the birds that we would see, but Kruger is a birdwatcher’s paradise. We saw a yellow-billed hornbill eating a big hairy spider, vultures picking at the leftover remains of an antelope, and eagles perched on top of trees looking for prey. We saw ostriches as well as many other brightly colored small birds. There are reportedly 517 species of birds in Kruger National Park alone.

brown-hooded kingfisher, crested barbet, pied kingfisher, ostrich, yellow-billed hornbill, helmeted guineafowl, tawny eagle

oxpeckers on an impala

One of the more interesting birds that we saw quite regularly was the oxpecker. These birds sit on animals and eat parasites off of them. We saw them on rhinos, giraffes, antelopes and zebras.

Our last night in Kruger brought a spectacular thunderstorm with lots of lightning and heavy rain, ending our drive a bit early. The next morning, we reluctantly left the park and headed south. Our safari trip was the highlight of our visit to South Africa. It is a completely different experience seeing these animals in the wild. We probably won’t have much interest in going to zoos after this.

After spending so many hours in the car during the previous week, we were looking forward to our next stop in the Drakensberg Mountains. This is South Africa’s highest mountain range, and there are several national parks within it. Our first stop was the Royal Natal National Park. The main attraction here is the Amphitheatre, which is a crescent-shaped wall four miles wide and nearly 5,000 feet high. The top of the wall is over 10,000 ft above sea level.

We stayed at the Thendele Rest Camp, which is situated on the side of a mountain opposite the Amphitheatre. The views from the patio of our chalet were stunning, facing out over the park. As we enjoyed our morning coffee, guineafowl pecked around looking for scraps, while baboons ran from chalet to chalet doing the same. The wild life in South Africa seems to be plentiful everywhere.

While there, we attempted to hike from our lodge to the top of the Amphitheatre. The first section was a bit challenging, but the views all along the way were spectacular. On one section called “the crack”, we climbed up a rocky cliff through a series of rope ladders, passing directly under a waterfall, bringing us up to the top a ridge. From here, it was gentler slopes, with grassy fields and lots of wildflowers.

It took five hours to reach the ranger station near the ridge of the Amphitheatre. From here the trail continues along the ridge sometimes leaving South Africa and entering the neighboring Kingdom of Lesotho. The gate attendant told us it was another two hours to reach the top of Tugela Falls. This is where the Tugela River plunges 3,080 feet, making it the second highest waterfall in the world. Our legs and feet were already aching and we didn’t think it was possible to add another two hours one way to the trip and still make it back to our lodge before sunset, so we decided to turn around. It was disappointing not to reach the waterfall, but when we reached the car that afternoon barely able to walk, we were glad to have turned around when we did. It was still a nice hike in some of the most beautiful scenery we’ve seen.

hiking in Royal Natal National Park

The next day we packed up and moved a little further south in the mountain range to an area called Giant’s Castle. This area got its name from the outline of the peaks that resemble the side profile of a sleeping giant. We did a short hike that afternoon to some nearby caves to see the cave paintings. These were done by the San Bushman, an indigenous people in South Africa that lived in the caves, maybe even as late as the early 20^th century. They were skilled hunter-gatherers and nomadic, leaving few traces of their existence other than the rock paintings. There was a guide at the caves who gave us a good tour and some insight to the meanings of the paintings and how they were made. She also gave an impressive display of the San language, skillfully making the clicking and popping sounds that are unique to the language.

The next morning was sunny and clear, so we squeezed in one more hike to a lookout called World’s View. We could see the entire Drakensberg escarpment, from Cathedral Peak to Giant’s Castle. This area is so beautiful and has such great hiking that we were wishing for just a few more days in the park. But, it was time to get back to Durban and start moving down the coast. We had a nice trip inland and were able to see quite a bit of South Africa. By the time we returned to the marina, we had put over 2,000 miles on our rental car.

hiking near Giant's Castle

South Africa - Durban and Blyde River Canyon (2012)

2013-05-17T10:49:00.000-07:00

We arrived in Durban, South Africa on November 15^th. Durban is a busy port and the third largest city in South Africa. There is a population of 3.5 million in this diverse city. While the majority of the people living in the region are Zulu, there is also a large British and Indian influence as well. Walking around, you could hear several languages spoken, and in fact, there are actually eleven official languages in South Africa. Fortunately for us, the British influence in Durban is still there, and English is the first language for the majority of the residents.

For our one month stay, Saviah was moored in the Durban marina. There are two yacht clubs at the marina, the Royal Natal Yacht Club and the Point Yacht Club. Both are very welcoming to foreign cruisers and provide free monthly memberships. We spent quite a bit of time in both yacht clubs, which each had showers, wi-fi and a restaurant. We were surprised at how inexpensive the food and drinks were and ate most of our meals there since cooking for ourselves would have cost at least as much.

One meal we really enjoyed was curry. Durban is home to the largest population of Indians outside of India. They were brought over by the British as indentured servants during the region's time as a colony, to work in the sugar cane fields. Many chose to stay after their term finished, and today the Indian influence is a big part of the Durban culture. The curry was some of the best we’ve ever had. In fact, we ate it nearly every day and didn’t get tired of it.

While in Durban, we didn’t venture more than a few blocks from the marina and only did so during daylight hours. Crime is quite bad around the city, and there seemed to be bars on all of the shop windows downtown, and most of them you had to be buzzed in before entering. We were warned to keep everything of value inside the boat and lock it up even though the marina had 24 hour security. We were given a tour of the city one afternoon by Bob Frasier, a member of the Point Yacht Club. He drove us around downtown and through some of the neighborhoods in the area. We drove through one of the affluent suburbs, and it was shocking to see not just bars on the windows, but walls around houses, some with barbed wire and electric fences and even armed guards outside.

That was fine because there were plenty of things to keep us busy in the marina. We had sailed almost 10,000 miles since leaving New Zealand six months earlier. Saviah was really showing some wear and tear. Andrew had several projects on his to-do list, including repairing the bowsprit which had some rot that needed to be removed and epoxied before putting on a couple more coats of paint. He took advantage of the fresh water to clean the boat and polish the stainless steel which was really starting to rust. It was also a good opportunity to catch up on engine maintenance as well as dozens of other small projects.

It wasn’t all work though. He had time to crew on one of the local boats during the weekly club races. He sailed on a 40 ft Beneteau that with was set up for racing with all carbon fiber sails and the latest high tech gear. We haven’t done any racing, so it was a good learning experience. It is amazing to see how quickly sails can come up and down with 16 people on board.

Meanwhile, Di spent time planning the next six months of our trip. It was really nice to have wi-fi at the yacht clubs which she used to research weather and various potential destinations in the Caribbean and South America. Our initial plan was to travel from Cape Town to northern Brazil, where we would spend a few months before sailing along the coast of South America toward the Panama Canal. This route would require us to hug the South American coast, in order to avoid the Atlantic hurricane belt from June to November. However, after some research, we found it would be quite expensive to visit Brazil since US citizens have extra costs for entering the country. We also read about big problems with crime in the anchorages and coastal cities in Brazil. Several cruising boats reported being boarded by thieves, and others were robbed on the streets just outside of marinas.

So we decided to skip Brazil. Instead our plans shifted toward the Caribbean to see the Windward Islands. This would allow us to visit Barbados in April, before sailing to Martinique, St. Lucia, St. Vincent and Grenada by June to get out of the hurricane belt. From there, we plan to head to the Dutch Antilles (Aruba, Bonaire and Curacao) in July and August. Cartagena, Colombia is the next stop on our way to the San Blas Islands of Panama, where we hope to spend at least a month. We would then transit the Panama Canal in October and start making our way up the Pacific coast of Central America as soon as the hurricane season is over in that part of the world.

With our plans more firm, the next step was to buy all necessary charts, flags, and guidebooks. Luckily, a fellow cruiser named Tony Herrick has a store in Durban called Cruising Connections, where he sells all of these things. Tony was a valuable resource, as he has extensive cruising experience and has written cruising guides covering South Africa to the Caribbean. He also gave us lots of tips on where to go in South Africa, as well as helping track down other items he didn’t have on hand. He was even willing to trade some of our South Pacific charts and guidebooks for some covering the Atlantic.

After spending over a week in the marina, it was time to see some of South Africa. So we rented a car and headed out for two weeks. We planned on spending a few days in the Blyde River Canyon area, which is 550 miles north of Durban. In order to break up the drive, we stopped for the evening in the town of Hluhluwe, a couple hundred miles from Durban. After we checked in at our lodge, we drove to nearby Lake St. Lucia and walked around looking for wildlife.

This was our first taste of the wild animals in South Africa and really got us excited about going on safari the following week. Within a few hours, we saw flamingos, monkeys, warthogs and some antelope. Later that night, we took a guided hike through the area around the lodge. It was pitch black, except for our very dim flashlight. It was a little frightening at times, as you can hear noises from various animals all around, and your imagination is left to guess what is there. Our guide cautioned us to be calm if we came upon a leopard, as one had been sighted in the area recently. We didn’t see many animals, other than a few dozen antelope, but it was an interesting experience walking through the bush at night.

pink flamingos and a male nyala at Lake St. Lucia

The next morning we drove seven hours to the town of Graskop, our base for exploring the Blyde River Canyon area. The first stop was the Bourke’s Luck Potholes, located at the confluence of the Treur and Blyde Rivers. Cylindrical potholes have formed from the erosion caused by the swirling waters of the two rivers. We walked all around the area, over the pedestrian bridges that span the rivers, taking pictures. Once the clouds cleared up, the colors were stunning.

Bourke's Luck Potholes

There is a lot of rainfall in the area, which kept us indoors for more of our stay than we liked. However, the rain throughout the canyons causes a large concentration of waterfalls. We spent one afternoon driving around and visiting some of these waterfalls, some of them dropping nearly 300 ft. There were some nice hikes around as well.

Bridal Veil, Graskop, Berlin, Lisbon, Mac Mac, Sabie

We also drove what they call the Panorama Route, which was very close to our lodge. This is a loop that stretches along the edge of the escarpment. There are several spots with viewpoints where you can park along the way. One was the Three Rondavels, three hills shaped like cylindrical huts. Another was the Pinnacle, a column of rock that rises up from the dense trees below. Another is called God’s Window, where the cliffs plunge 2,300 ft to the valley below. The valley is filled with dense clouds most of the time, and it took several visits before we could actually see the valley. There were several hiking trails along these viewpoints as well. We were warned that there were baboons in the area, and they could be aggressive at times. Fortunately, we only heard some loud warning growls, but didn’t actually encounter any while we were out of the car.

Three Rondavels, God's Window, and the Pinnacle

On our last day in Blyde River Canyon, we signed up for a cultural tour at one of the Zulu villages. The Zulu people have been living in the region for hundreds of years and are still the largest ethnic group in South Africa, with over ten million people. We were in the heart of Zululand, and we thought a cultural tour would help us learn something about the local people.

Our guide showed us around a small traditional village and explained the function of the different huts and about their old way of life. After looking around the village, there was dancing and singing. They explained the different outfits that the women were wearing based on whether they were single, engaged or married. It was quite a production, especially since there were only four of us in the audience. We were a little surprised at the end when they pulled us up and asked us to dance with them, which was a lot of fun. After the tour, we made the short drive to Kruger National Park, where we would spend a week on safari.

Zulu cultural tour

Passage to South Africa (2012)

2013-04-24T11:04:00.000-07:00

The passage from Reunion to South Africa covers 1,450 miles and is known for being a very tough leg. As you leave the tropics and round the south end of Madagascar, the area’s weather is affected by an unending succession of Antarctic lows moving eastward. Even in the summer when they are less intense, fast-moving lows still pass through every 2-4 days making it almost impossible to avoid some bad weather on the passage. These lows are especially dangerous as you near the South African coast and enter the fast flowing Agulhas Current. This wind against tide situation regularly causes a dangerous sea state.

After preparing Saviah for the passage, we waited a week for a good weather window. It was a long week with quite a bit of anxiety, and more than one instance where we thought we were leaving the following day before the next forecast would cause us to postpone. Fortunately, there were three other cruising boats waiting to make the same trip, and we could commiserate together. We met on most afternoons to discuss weather, and two of the boats shared information they received from the weather routers they hired to provide forecasts for the passage.

On November 2^nd, a low pressure system that had been hovering south of Madagascar finally seemed to be moving along. Everyone agreed that it looked good to depart the following day. Our plan was to leave in the early morning hours, but after a walk along the break wall, we changed our minds. The surfers were out in force catching the 8-10 foot waves breaking over the St-Pierre harbor entrance. We were stuck for the time being. The forecast called for conditions to settle later that day, and we made many trips back and forth to monitor the swell. It did settle down eventually that afternoon, and all four boats set off within a few hours.

The first five days we had mostly light winds that switched direction and speed often. Before leaving Reunion, we changed out the genoa for the small working jib for a couple of reasons. We thought it would be a good sail for the strong southwesterlies that we would ultimately encounter, and because our big genoa still needed to be repaired after a large section of stitching came undone during our crossing to Mauritius.

We were determined to maintain a decent pace during this trip, as the longer we were out, the more bad weather we would see. This meant motoring at times, but of course we only had so much fuel, and the forecast showed more light winds for the following few days. In order to conserve fuel and keep up our pace, a headsail change was necessary, as the small heavy jib wasn’t cutting it. We were nervous about flying the spinnaker because of the quickly changing weather, and decided our best option was to repair the genoa. Andrew spread out the big sail in the cockpit and began hand-stitching about ten feet of sail. It took almost four hours to repair it, but we were glad we did. We switched the headsails and made relatively good time, averaging 5.5 knots. We only used the sail for a couple of days and then switched back to the small jib when the forecast showed an approaching low.

Throughout the passage, we stayed relatively close to s/v Ocean Lady, a British boat that left Reunion right before us. We attempted to speak to Alan and Margaret each morning and evening at a scheduled time on the VHF. Communication was only possible when within about 15 miles of each other. We were out of range most of the time, lose contact for a day or two, and then somehow drift back together again. In fact, five days out of Reunion, we were both sailing downwind, wing on wing. They were on a port tack and we were on a starboard tack when we had to adjust course to avoid a collision. We ended up crossing within about 50 yards of each other. When we were in VHF range, they often provided us with some very useful weather updates.

s/v Ocean Lady

Although it is very tempting to round the corner close to Madagascar, the more conservative route goes approximately 150 miles south of the island before turning west towards South Africa. Hugging the coast would probably save at least a day, as there is a strong favorable current and the distance is shorter. However, the continental shelf and several sea mounts in the area can cause enormous waves when the conditions deteriorate. Freak waves have even been reported in this area when the winds are light to moderate, so it is best to give the island a wide berth.

The general strategy is to encounter a low south of Madagascar and then try to make the remaining 700 miles to South Africa before the next one arrives. As we neared this area, we received updated weather information, which showed our timing was good as a low was approaching. The winds closer to Madagascar were forecast to be stronger, so we continued 30 miles further south before pointing west.

About 12 hours after turning west, the front of the low passed through with lots of thunder and lightning, and we had SSW winds at 30 knots with gusts to 40. Saviah handled it well, and we sailed along on a close reach with a double-reefed main and staysail. After the front passed, we had nice sailing again as the E to SE winds filled in for a few days.

During this last stretch, we tuned in to the Peri Peri net in the morning and evening. This net is out of South Africa run by knowledgeable sailors located in various cities around the country. They provide detailed weather forecasts for the area, ranging from Madagascar and Mozambique all the way around South Africa and up to Namibia. They also give each boat that checks in information specific to their location. Most of the cruisers check in with their positions and get advice on strategies for the approach to the Agulhas current. Since we don’t have an SSB radio, we can’t broadcast, but we can listen in on our receiver and still use the information given to other boats.

There was a bit of anxiety as we approached South Africa. The Agulhas current flows fast south down the coast. The width varies, but to get to Durban, we would have to sail about 50 miles across it. If you are caught in the current when a low passes through, it is bad news. The SW winds blow against the current and regularly create enormous breaking waves. Our charts of the area have “cautions” that describe the risk of freak waves of up to 65 feet during these times.

Unfortunately, timing the low pressure systems is not as easy as it sounds, mainly because these lows are not easily forecast. If we weren’t so stressed about it, it would have been almost comical to hear the guys on the Peri Peri net give advice to incoming boats. One morning, they would tell them to hurry before the next low arrives, and by that evening they would advise slowing down as they wouldn’t have time to make it. The low would stall out, and the next day they would recommend hurrying up again. Having access to these quickly changing forecasts via the net was helpful, and we never missed a broadcast.

As we approached, we were in hurry mode and motored when necessary to keep our speed up. Two days before reaching the current, the weather forecast changed and showed a front arriving sooner than expected. It would likely reach us before we crossed the current. We turned off the engine and sailed along slowly waiting for the front to pass.

Fortunately, the front was quite mild and passed quickly, and we motor-sailed again in light winds to get through as fast as possible. We entered the current as the sun set on our 11^th day out. We had calm conditions through the night and noticed only a couple knots of current. As the sky began to lighten, the NE winds filled in and before long, we had 8-10 foot seas and a NE breeze of 25 knots. We were flying along at 8 knots, happy to know that we would make it through the current without any weather related issues.

The next concern was making it into Durban without getting hit by a ship. We later learned that Durban is the busiest shipping harbor on the African continent. There must have been 40 ships near the harbor, some coming and going, others just hanging out waiting for their turn. The last 25 miles turned out to be the most stressful part of the passage as we navigated through the commercial traffic. We made it through without incident, and by 9 am we radioed Port Control and were given permission to enter the harbor.

helicopter removing Durban harbor pilots from outgoing freighter

It was an amazing feeling to be motoring through the harbor in calm waters with that passage behind us. We headed over to the marina and dropped the anchor in the shallow waters near the entrance. They didn’t have a spot for us immediately, but after closer inspection and measuring the depth in a shallow berth, we were able to move into the marina. We cleared in with customs and immigration and breathed a huge sigh of relief… Saviah had arrived in South Africa!

Durban marina

Reunion (2012)

2013-04-22T11:59:00.000-07:00

We set sail from Mauritius on October 19^th, for Reunion Island, 140 miles away. Winds were light during the afternoon, but finally filled in at SE 15-18 knots around sunset. Saviah was making 5-6 knots with a single-reefed main and jib for most of the night. Reunion is about 40 miles long and 30 miles wide with several very tall peaks, making it visible from far away. When the sun rose on Saturday, the mountainous cloud-covered island came into view.

As is often the case, the land mass disrupts the generally consistent wind, causing gusts as it heads over and around the island. As we came around the south side, the wind switched from 10 knots to 35 knots back and forth every few minutes. This made steering a little challenging for a few hours before the winds died all together on our approach to St. Pierre.

approaching Reunion

We were a bit apprehensive approaching St. Pierre. We knew there was a small marina but couldn’t find much information about it and had no luck trying to contact the marina or harbor master before we left Mauritius. We weren’t sure they would have room for us. In addition, the entrance can be dangerous in a heavy swell, as it is narrow and crosses a sandbar with a depth of six feet at low tide. It would be challenging even in moderate conditions. We really hoped it would work out because our guide book described St. Pierre as a fun seaside town in close proximity to the mountains.

Thankfully, the seas were calm when we entered at high tide, and the lowest depth we saw was 9 feet. We hailed the port on the VHF on arrival and got no response. We saw an empty slip in the marina and decided to just take it and find someone on the ground to ask permission. There were a few other cruising boats in the marina, including our neighbors on True Blue, a Canadian boat we met in Australia. We learned that the port was closed for the weekend and decided to just stay put and talk to them on Monday.

The island of Reunion has changed hands and names several times since it was discovered in the 16^th century, but it has been primarily controlled by the French over the last few hundred years. It remains an overseas department of France today, and as such, is part of the European Union. There is a population of about 800,000 on the island made up of people of primarily African, Chinese, Malaysian, Indian, and of course, French descent. French is the official language, but there is also a local Creole spoken by many of the natives. There are not many tourists that visit the island, and those that do are almost exclusively French. Very few of the locals speak any English, which made it a little challenging at times, but we tried our best.

We spent our first couple days walking around town and cleaning the boat since we had fresh water at the slip for the first time in a while. We got some exercise swimming laps in the lagoon next to the marina. The shallow water is protected by a reef extending off the marina breakwater. The lagoon and adjacent beach were a popular hang-out for locals and tourists alike. Free wi-fi was available from the boat, and we were able to plan our trip into the mountains, which was the primary reason we wanted to visit Reunion. We booked a room, found the bus stop and packed our bags for a three day trip inland.

St. Pierre marina and nearby beach

Several other boats arrived over the weekend, and we all went over to clear in early on Monday morning. The officials were remarkably laidback, and we were happy to find we could stay in the same slip. Clearing customs was a quick process, and once we had our papers, we went back to the boat to grab our bags and rushed to the bus stop. Reunion has good public transportation with nice comfortable busses and fares that are only one to two Euros. Our first leg took us up the coast from St. Pierre to St. Louis, where we transferred to another bus that took us to our destination, Cilaos.

After spending the last few years on the water, Andrew was really craving time in the mountains and Reunion has an abundance of great hiking, canyoneering and other outdoor activities. There are two major mountainous regions on the island. One is on the southeastern side, which includes the Piton de la Fournaise. This peak rises to more than 8,600 ft and is one of the world’s most active volcanos.

The other mountainous region is on the west side of the island with the now extinct volcano Piton des Neiges at its center. This is the highest point on the island at 10,070 ft. It is surrounded by three large calderas (volcanic craters), known as the three Cirques. We only had time to visit one of the cirques, so we decided on the Cirque de Cilaos. The town of Cilaos is the largest settlement in the Cirques and would be our base for the three day trip.

The bus trip to Cilaos was an experience in and of itself. It involved traversing the RN5 through the mountainous terrain, with more than 400 twists and turns along the way. Many are hairpin turns that seem impossible to maneuver in a full size bus. Sometimes the bus driver had to stop and back up a few times to make it around. This is probably why the busses had major scrapes along the sides. There were several tunnels along the way that were just one lane and barely wide enough for the bus to fit. The driver had to stop, pull in the mirrors, and wait for oncoming traffic before proceeding. The tunnel walls were just a few inches from the bus on either side.

bus ride to Cilaos

It took two hours to make the 25 miles to Cilaos, which is a picturesque town of 6,000 people, sitting at an altitude of 4,000 feet. The scenery here is spectacular. It is surrounded by mountains, including the highest peak, Piton des Neiges, which towers of the town.

We checked into our lodge, dropped off our bags, and then headed to the visitor’s center. There are many well marked trails that traverse the nearby mountains and canyons. We grabbed a map and did a short hike that afternoon while the weather was nice. We spent an hour hiking up to a lookout and enjoyed great views of the area for a few minutes before the clouds started rolling in.

Cilaos

Generally speaking, the mornings in Cilaos are clear. By afternoon, the town is usually shrouded in clouds, and then the rain starts. It can rain quite heavily here, and Cilaos apparently holds the record for the most rain in a 24 hour period (73.6 inches). We decided to get up early the next couple of days and do some of the longer hikes in the clear morning hours.

Since we were hiking out of a village on a French island, we decided we could do better than our usual power bars for energy. We got up at 6 am and headed to the bakery where we loaded our backpack up with paninis, croissants, pain au chocolate, some other pastries, and a few slices of pizza. We walked up the road and reached the trailhead at 7 am.

The trail wound its way around the hillside, with deep canyons below and towering peaks overhead. After a few hours, it led down into the valley, and at the bottom, we took off our shoes to wade across la riviere de Bras Rouge. We hiked up the other side of the canyon, and then caught the Col du Taibit trail, a climb up to 6,857 ft. There were rare patches of trees that provided some relief from the sun, but most of the hike was unshaded. We reached the top around 2 pm and took in the beautiful views of the surrounding peaks. Exhausted, we hiked back down to the trailhead and caught a bus the last few miles back to Cilaos.

view from Col du Taibit

Andrew decided that while in Reunion, we needed to climb the Piton des Neiges. It was a difficult one day hike on its own, and we were quite sore from the long hike the day before. We got up even earlier the next day, stopped by the bakery to fill our packs with even more food, and caught a bus to the trailhead. The guidebooks say this is a nine hour hike, and we wanted to reach the summit while the skies were still clear.

The trail starts in a forest, steadily climbing, and then becomes rocky and quite steep. We pushed hard for three hours to climb 4,000 ft where we reached the Gite de la Caverne Dufour. There is a hut here at 8,100 ft where most hikers stay for the night before summiting the next morning. We were already tired and wished we were staying for the night as well.

From the hut, it was another two hour climb up the last 2,000 ft to the summit. This section had no trees, more bushes and scrub, and huge boulders everywhere. The last 30 minutes of the trail traverse a ridge of red ash, with a few lonely plants sprouting here and there, adding dashes of green to the stark landscape. The views from the summit were stunning, looking out over the other peaks and villages all the way to the ocean and beyond.

hiking Piton des Neiges

We had lunch on the summit and a short rest as we watched the clouds begin to roll in below us. Hiking down was much faster, and it only took 45 minutes to reach the hut, which was now completely shrouded in clouds. The rest of the hike was three hours through dense fog with very low visibility. Back at the trailhead completely exhausted, we hitched a ride back to town.

Our last morning, we only had enough strength to walk into town for breakfast and then off to the bus stop for another exhilarating ride back to St. Pierre. Although we could have been happy spending several months in Reunion, there was already one early cyclone this season, and it was time to get out of the tropics. We needed to focus on getting Saviah ready to sail to South Africa, one of our most dreaded passages.

The leg from the Mascarene Islands to South Africa is notorious for being a tough sail with unpredictable weather. The 1,500 mile passage leads initially south, before turning west towards the South African coast after clearing Madagascar. The trade winds of the tropics quickly disappear after leaving Reunion, and the weather is dominated by a succession of Antarctic lows moving east. These lows have strong SW winds and move through fast, often every 2-3 days, so avoiding them is virtually impossible.

The lack of sheltered ports on the South African coastline and the mighty Agulhas Current contribute to the challenges. The Agulhas Current flows south in a wide channel along the coast at speeds of up to six knots in places. When the SW wind from a low pressure system blows hard against this current, it creates giant waves of up to 60 feet, with even larger freak waves reported during storms. It is important not be caught crossing the current when a low comes through.

The advice we received from several South African sailors was to watch the weather and arrive south of Madagascar at the same time a low pressure system does. If you can time it right, this gives you a chance for a clear run to the coast across the current before the next low arrives. If you are late or the next low pressure system arrives early, you just heave-to and wait for it to blow through and then cross the current.

After returning from Cilaos, we woke up one morning and noticed the boat Rough Bounds tied up to the wall. We met Paul, the single-hander from Toronto when we were in Cocos Keeling a couple months prior. On closer inspection, we noticed that he had no mast. We caught up with him later that morning, and he explained that he was on his way to South Africa from Mauritius and was hit by a squall, not far from Reunion. A strong gust knocked him down, and then two large waves hit him in the few seconds before the boat had a chance to right itself. The mast broke and was ultimately lost. He motored to Reunion that evening and was heartbroken at the thought of not being able to finish his trip back home. We later learned that he was able to find a replacement mast in Reunion and successfully made the trip to South Africa. In the meantime, it was a reminder that this was one of our most dangerous passages, and we needed to be ready for anything.

We did a thorough inspection of Saviah’s rigging, as well as the rest of the boat. Since our portlights had been leaking a little, we just caulked them all closed. During our inspection, we noticed that we were missing one of the two pins that hold the jib furler on. Luckily, Alice on True Blue had several spare bolts that fit, and Andrew was able to make a temporary repair.

Several other boats were also preparing for departure, hoping to catch the next window. We met every day and discussed the weather forecasts. A couple of other cruisers were paying weather routers back in the U.S. for advice. These are weather experts with sailing experience who analyze the weather and give recommendations on when to leave and what route to take. It was really helpful to have their thoughts and analysis of the situation. After waiting nearly a week, we finally had what looked to be a good window for departure on Saturday, November 3^rd, and Saviah set sail for Durban, South Africa.

Mauritius (2012)

2013-04-16T17:53:00.000-07:00

Saviah and her crew arrived in Mauritius on October 10^th, after completing a 17 day passage across the Indian Ocean from Cocos Keeling. We tied up alongside the concrete wall in downtown Port Louis, a bustling commercial harbor and the capital of Mauritius.

The island is part of the Mascarene Island group, located about 450 miles east of Madagascar. The Mascarenes were formed many years ago as a result of underwater volcanic eruptions. Like most of the others islands in the group, Mauritius was originally inhabited by the Dutch. It was later occupied by both the French and the British before becoming an independent state in 1968. Mauritius is famous as the only home of the now extinct Dodo bird.

After informing the customs office of our arrival, we were told to wait on our boat, as officers from quarantine and immigration needed to come out first. They arrived around noon, and we completed the paperwork in 20 minutes. The next step was to check in with the nearby coast guard, and then finally the customs office gave us our official clearance papers. Once checked in, we went ashore to the ATM to pull out some Mauritius rupees and grabbed a quick lunch before walking to the nearby marina. We were really hoping to get a spot in the marina for at least a night, so we could take on water and clean off the boat and ourselves.

Unfortunately, the marina was full. The Coast Guard reluctantly let us remain on the customs wall for a night, as long as we agreed to leave the next day. It wasn’t ideal, as there was a bit of surge in the harbor and our lines, which were tied off to the lamp posts, were under a lot of strain. Since the nearest anchorage was a 15 mile sail, we were glad to have a place to tie up for the night and spent the rest of the day exploring downtown and getting used to walking again.

The next morning, we moved to the anchorage at Grand Baie. This is a well-protected and shallow bay on the northwest side of the island and the hub of the tourist activity. The bay is surrounded by restaurants and shops, and there is also a very large grocery store a couple blocks away. Food stalls along the beach offered an assortment of good cheap street food. It was interesting to hear the variety of languages spoken as we walked. The local population is made up of people from various nationalities, primarily China, India, Africa or Europe. The locals seemed to switch between Mauritian Creole, French and English without any problem.

The Grand Baie Yacht Club has a history of welcoming foreign cruisers, and offered us a one month free temporary membership. We took advantage of the amenities and enjoyed hot showers while there. They also have a jetty where we pulled up alongside to top off our water and fuel, which we hadn’t done since Bali, a month ago. After our tanks were full and the salt was rinsed off the topsides, we set the anchor in about 10 ft of water and set off to see some of the island.

Mauritius is about 40 miles long from north to south and 28 miles wide, encircled by a broken ring of mountain ranges. It is surrounded by miles of white sandy beaches, with lots of reef protected lagoons beyond that. Since we were only planning to spend a week in Mauritius, we decided a good way to see this beautiful island is to rent a scooter and hit the road for a few days. We left from Grand Baie and started off around the north side of the island, deciding to make a clockwise circumnavigation on mainly the smaller coastal roads. The north side of Mauritius is mainly flat, lending itself to growing sugar cane. We passed field after field of it as we followed the road along the coast.

Continuing on, the route took us along the east coast of the island through many small coastal villages. Near the SE side of the island, we parked the scooter at the Vieux Grand Port police station and walked down the road to the base of Lion Mountain. Looking to hike to the summit, we searched for the trailhead using instructions from our guide book. But the trail is not marked, and we spent almost an hour walking through the sugar cane fields at the base of the mountain before finding it.

sugar cane fields in Mauritius

It took a few hours to get to the top, and it was definitely worth it. There were several lookout points along the way, with beautiful views of the east side of the island, as well as the lagoon and surrounding reef.

hiking on Lion Mountain

After the hike, we got back on the scooter and continued to the Blue Bay area on the SE corner of the island. We stopped for the night at a B & B and enjoyed walking around town and along the very popular beach nearby.

Before leaving Grand Baie earlier in the day, we checked the weather. There was a tropical disturbance forming north of us around the Chagos Islands that we needed to keep an eye on. That night we checked the weather again, and found the disturbance had deepened into a category 3 cyclone, named Anais. Sustained winds were as high as 115 mph, and the forecast showed the track heading by Mauritius, a few hundred miles offshore. This meant, at a minimum, we would get some strong winds, but that it could also change course just slightly and actually hit Mauritius. We debated heading back to Grand Baie after just one night.

Since we brought our laptop with us, we were able to keep an eye on the weather at the many wi-fi hotspots around the island. The cyclone was still a few days out, and we could be back in Grand Baie within 3-4 hours from anywhere on the island, so we chose to spend one more night on the west coast and just keep monitoring the storm. The next morning, we headed west to see the Black River Gorges National Park. There was a narrow road leading through the park with attractions and hiking trails along the way. We stopped to do a short hike to Alexandra Falls, and then we hiked up to the highest point in Mauritius, Piton de la Petite Riviere Noire, at 2,717 ft. It was a relatively easy hike until the last steep scramble up to the top. There were excellent views of the southwest end of the island and the ocean beyond.

more hiking on Mauritius

After the hike, we continued to circle the island and headed north along the west coast. We stopped for the night in the small coastal village of Tamarin. We found a small backpacker lodge that was recently purchased by a couple of Italian expats who were in the middle of remodeling the place. They had one room finished and available for rent, which they gave us a great price on since they weren’t officially open for business.

We spent some time walking around the small town, but there wasn’t much going on, other than the work being done at the salt evaporation ponds across the street. Here they make salt in the traditional way by flooding the retention ponds with saltwater and waiting for the water to evaporate off. The women then shovel the remaining salt into buckets and carry them off to the storage sheds. Moving these buckets of salt around in the hot sun looked like hard work.

salt ponds near Tamarin

When we checked the weather that evening, we were relieved that the forecast showed the cyclone staying further north than originally expected and then eventually dying out in a few days. There would still be strong winds in Mauritius, but not too bad. After a night in Tamarin, we continued north back to Grand Baie, taking the highway through the very congested city of Port Louis. It was a bit nerve racking on our little scooter, but after we made it through the city, we were back on the smaller back roads again and enjoyed the last leg through the small coastal villages. We saw a lot of the island over our three day tour and had a good time, despite having to keep our eye on the storm.

Back in Grand Baie, we returned our scooter and did some last minute grocery shopping before getting back to the boat. Although the worst of cyclone Anais was heading toward Madagascar, winds were expected to increase, so we planned to stay put for a few days until conditions improved. Later that day, the wind kicked up in the anchorage and hovered between 25 and 35 knots for several days. The holding was good in the shallow anchorage, and we had no issues while waiting it out.

We agreed before we left Seattle, that we would not put ourselves at risk by being in the tropics during cyclone season. The official southwest Indian Ocean cyclone season runs from November to April, with the most likely months being December to March. Tropical cyclone Anais formed on October 13^th, marking the earliest formation of an intense tropical cyclone ever recorded in this area. Although the winds weren’t too bad in Mauritius, it was bit unnerving to be so close to this cyclone before the season even started.

When conditions finally settled down, we sailed back to Port Louis on October 19^th. We tied up alongside the wall again and spent an hour completing the paperwork necessary to clear out of the country. We set out early that afternoon for the short overnight hop to Reunion Island, 140 miles away.

Bali to Mauritius (2012)

2013-01-01T06:55:00.000-08:00

After four weeks in Bali, it was time to start our journey across the Indian Ocean. We slipped the dock lines at the Bali Marina on Saturday, September 8^th, and began the long haul of 3,400 miles to Mauritius. The course passes by Christmas Island and the Cocos Keeling Islands, territories of Australia. Our plan was to stop in Cocos Keeling (1,100 miles from Bali) to rest for a few days before continuing on to Mauritius. Since Di was still on antibiotics to kill the parasite she picked up in Bali, we planned to sail a course that passed near Christmas Island (560 miles from Bali) in case she started feeling worse and needed medical facilities.

The first two days brought light winds during the day and no wind overnight. Finally on day three, the SE trade winds filled in at 12-18 knots, and Saviah averaged 6-7 knots for the next five days under single-reefed main and genoa. Despite the pleasant sailing conditions, Di spent most of the time sleeping as she was weak and a little nauseous from the antibiotics.

On day seven, the winds shifted to directly behind us, so we doused the main and sailed under poled-out genoa alone, which dropped our speed to 5 knots and made for a rolly ride. Fortunately, this only lasted half a day and on the morning of September 16^th, the palm trees of the low lying islands of Cocos Keeling came into view. When we were 12 miles out, we radioed the police to notify them of our approach. They asked us a few questions, made sure we had a visa, and then instructed us to give them a call back when we were anchored so they could come to the boat for the official clearance procedures.

Cocos Keeling consists of 27 coral islands that make up two atolls, North Keeling and South Keeling. The much smaller North Keeling is uninhabited and has been designated a marine park. Most of the islands are part of the South Keeling atoll, the three largest of which create a horseshoe shaped lagoon that is open to the north and roughly eight miles long and six miles wide.

The islands were originally discovered in 1609, but not settled until 1826 when John Clunies-Ross brought his family and a group of Malay slaves to the islands and built up a large copra plantation. The islands were declared a British dominion about thirty years later and then granted to the Clunies-Ross family in 1886 by Queen Victoria.

They were made an Australian dependency in 1955 and existed as a virtual fiefdom for the Clunies-Ross family for many years. The Australian government’s unhappiness with the Clunies-Ross style of rule increased over time, and eventually they forced the family to sell the islands to Australia in 1978.

The current population of Cocos Keeling is just over 600. Only two of the islands are inhabited, Home Island and West Island. Most of the 500 people on Home Island are descendants of the original Malaysian slaves brought to the island several hundred years ago. They speak a Cocos dialect of Malay, as well as English, and most are Sunni Muslim.

The only other inhabited island is West Island, which is made up of about 100 Australians of primarily European descent. West Island is at the far south end of the lagoon and is the commercial center with police, customs, and the airport. It is also serves as an Australian air base.

The third largest island is Direction Island, on the northeast side of the lagoon, which is uninhabited and where we were instructed to anchor. As we approached the entrance to the lagoon, the depths dropped drastically to 60 feet, and the water was crystal clear. Motoring through the pass, we were accompanied by a pod of dolphins and could see two other sailboats in the anchorage. As we approached the anchorage, the dolphins dispersed and a dozen black tip reef sharks took over, circling below the keel as we anchored in 15 feet of turquoise blue water over white sand. After almost eight days at sea, we savored the beautiful scenery and flat calm water.

calm waters of the Cocos Keeling lagoon

Once we were settled, we hailed the police again to arrange for clearance. Since the police office is on West Island several miles south, the officers came across the lagoon in a small power boat and tied up alongside Saviah. They don’t have customs, quarantine or immigration officers on the island, so the local police handle all of the paperwork. It was a painless process, and 30 minutes later, we took down our yellow quarantine flag and hoisted the Australian courtesy flag. We still had to pay our anchorage fees of $50 per week at either Home Island or West Island, but they didn’t really care when we did it. There is a ferry that makes a couple trips to Direction Island from Home Island each Thursday, so we decided to wait and take care of it then, rather than row over in the dinghy.

Our plan was to stay in Cocos Keeling for a week, mainly to rest, but also so Di could finish her antibiotics before the next passage. She started the second round the day we arrived, which was a seven day course. While there, we studied the weather patterns of the Indian Ocean and read our guidebooks to learn about the places we would stop in Africa. Most afternoons, we went ashore on Direction Island to get some exercise. Andrew ran on the beach most days, while Di took it easy as she was still a bit weak from the meds. We also enjoyed swimming in the bay and chatting with the other cruisers.

For many years, Cocos Keeling has been an important stop for cruisers crossing the Indian Ocean. The shelters near the beach have barbecues, and there are frequent potlucks on shore when there are boats in the anchorage. Many cruisers that have passed through have carved their boat names on pieces of wood and nailed them to the palm trees on shore. It was interesting to look at the names and home ports of the sailors that have stopped in, some of them from decades ago.

Thursday morning the ferry came to Direction Island and we rode it back to Home Island to pay our anchorage fees. When we checked in, the police made sure we knew that it was a Muslim community, and to dress appropriately if we came over to visit. With several hours to kill before the ferry came back, we spent some time walking around. It was an interesting community where most of the homes are nearly identical and arranged in a grid. People mainly got around town in quads, golf carts, bicycles or on foot. The locals were very friendly and when we sat down at the only restaurant on the island, one of them bought us lunch and encouraged us to come to his house if we needed anything.

We also stopped at the small supermarket hoping to pick up a few items for our next passage. On Saturdays, a supply plane comes in from the mainland bringing fresh fruit and veggies, but by Thursday, they were pretty well picked over. So, we didn’t buy much, other than some cheese and butter. We went back to the ferry and sat down with the seven or eight other cruisers who were over for the day and waited for about 45 minutes for the ferry to leave. Eventually, we were told there were engine troubles (on the virtually brand new ferry), and they instructed us to get on the older ferry. We did, but they couldn’t get that one working properly either, and after a while, we boarded the last available ferry. They got this one running, but it was a really hot day, and by this time, our butter had melted and soaked through the bag and was dripping on the ground. What a mess.

Before we left Home Island, we also tried to clear out with the police. Although they will come to your boat for clearing-in procedures, they won’t do the same to clear you out, unless they are already in the anchorage for another reason. We were planning to leave on Sunday, but wouldn’t have another opportunity to take the ferry to Home Island for another week. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t grant our clearance because our departure was over 48 hours away.

We hoped they would have a reason to come back to the anchorage in the next day or two, or we would have a very long row in the dinghy back to Home Island. Fortunately, the next morning a boat arrived, and we hailed the police on the VHF as they came into the anchorage. After clearing the new boat in, they came alongside Saviah and completed our clearance formalities. At the time, we had a forecast for steady trade winds starting on Sunday. By the time Sunday came, the forecast had changed to no wind until Tuesday. If we didn’t leave, we would have to check in again, pay more fees on Home Island, and then check out again. So, we opted to leave anyway and deal with the light winds. We motored out on September 23^rd, one week after we arrived.

Direction Island

The southern Indian Ocean is known to have strong trade winds, as well as an uncomfortable and sizable south or southwest cross swell originating in the distant Southern Ocean gales. After our passage from Bali to Cocos Keeling, we felt we had probably used up our good luck as that passage had neither. We were mentally prepared for the 2,300 miles from Cocos Keeling to Mauritius to be tough and uncomfortable, despite the relatively mild forecast in place when we left.

After motoring off and on for the first two days, the winds filled in and ranged from 12-25 knots from the E to SE throughout the rest of the passage. Our strategy was to sail as often as possible on a broad reach with single or double reefed main and genoa. Occasionally, when the winds went due east, we strayed to the south of the rhumb line and had to douse the main, sailing dead downwind to make progress west. Thankfully, this didn’t happen often, and we sailed most of the passage with both sails up.

The result was a much faster and more comfortable ride. Our average over the entire 2,300 miles was almost 6 knots, and we did our best ever 24 hour period with 171 miles. We had only a few days of winds in the 20-25 knot range, but we did have a bit of a cross swell from the south for most of the passage. The seas weren’t very big, but a few times every day a wave would break just right against the hull and a gallon of water would make its way into the cockpit, usually right on top of the person on watch and the book that they were reading.

We fished occasionally throughout the trip, but didn’t have any luck. We were particularly unlucky one day when a flying fish launched out of the water from behind the stern and flew right through the pushpit, just missing the windvane and steering wheel, through the companionway and right onto our sea bunk. We grabbed it quickly and tossed it off the boat, but the sheets smelled immediately.

The last three days brought lighter winds at E 5-15 knots. The genoa flogged at times in the light winds, and eventually the stitching in the foot started unraveling. Rather than risk more damage to the sail, we furled it and hoisted the gennaker. We sailed slowly dead downwind with the gennaker poled-out for the last day, rounding the north end of Mauritius during the early morning hours. We sailed along in the lee of the island and enjoyed the calm seas after 17 days at sea.

As we approached the harbor entrance to Port Louis, we reduced sail to slow down. This is a busy commercial port, and the entrance to the channel was currently blocked by a large freighter being turned around by three tugs. Once the freighter was clear of the entrance, we hailed port control on channel 14 and received permission to enter the narrow channel. By 8:30 am on October 10^th, we were safely docked alongside the customs wall in downtown Port Louis, relieved to have completed one of our most daunting passages.

Port Louis harbor

Bali, Indonesia, part 2 (2012)

2013-01-01T06:32:00.000-08:00

After spending some time traveling around Bali, we returned to the marina to spend a few days aboard Saviah.   We were looking forward to exploring more of the island with our friend Eric, who would be coming out from Seattle in a few days. In the mean time, we cleaned the boat, caught up on laundry and worked on a few small projects while in the marina.

The weather can be unbearably hot sometimes in the tropics, and leaving all the hatches open at night to capture every bit of breeze is essential to staying comfortable. This is especially true in the marinas since the wind is shielded by other boats and structures on shore.   Unfortunately, when the hatches are open, the wind is not the only thing that can get in. On our first night back on the boat, Andrew woke up just before midnight when he heard the sound of one of the pan lids rattling. He got the flashlight and went into the galley to find a huge rat staring back at him.   We’ve had a few moments of uncomfortable weather out at sea and long nights in port staying awake to make sure our anchor wasn’t dragging, but this was definitely the low point of our travels so far.

After waking Di up, we spent almost four hours chasing the rat around the boat. We tried to herd it towards an exit and then to trap it, but no luck. At one point it ran out into the cockpit, with Andrew close behind to chase it off the boat. It ran around the perimeter of the cockpit and then right back through the companionway and into the boat again. It eventually disappeared down into the bilge, where we could hear it moving around for about half an hour underneath the cabin sole.

Later it came out of the bilge to make another appearance where we again tried to trap it or chase it outside, and then around 3 a.m. it went into one of the cubbies in the galley. We closed the door to trap it inside. We decided it was better to have a rat trapped on the boat in a single compartment and unable to leave than one free to run around wherever it wanted. Tired and frustrated, we laid in bed for another few hours until the sun rose.

Rats are nocturnal animals, and this one did not budge all day. We cleaned out everything in the cubby but it stayed put, apparently back on a small shelf that we couldn’t see. We inspected all the food that we pulled out of the cubby and found that it had eaten through several packages. Apparently, Asian rats prefer Asian food, and this one got into packages of Ramen Noodles and rice. It didn’t seem to touch any of the western foods, but we later found that it also ate most of the way through one of the hoses that is connected to the engines exhaust system.

Our plan was to move all of the food from the galley into the v-berth, which we could then seal off. After spending most of the day moving food around and disinfecting everything, we decided to make a run to the store to get some rat traps. It didn’t seem like the rat could have escaped the compartment, but there are all sorts of nooks and crannies in a boat. We hadn’t heard a peep from it in over 12 hours so we starting talking ourselves into believing that it had just left the boat and wouldn’t be back. Just in case, we had sealed off most of the other areas of the boat, limiting where it could go. Before leaving, we opened the cubby where it was last seen entering and put some duct tape down with the sticky side up, right in front of the opening. If the rat came out of the cubby it would step on the tape, and we would know it was still on board.

When we got back about half an hour later, the tape had moved, and there were foot prints around the galley countertops. Fortunately they led outside, but we couldn’t be sure it stayed out there. About an hour later, there was some squeaking in the cockpit, and Andrew stuck his head out the companionway to see the rat sitting in the cockpit well. It was a huge relief to know for sure it was outside, but we didn’t dare open any of the port lights or hatches. Without any circulation, the heat in the cabin was almost unbearable, but not as bad as having a rat on board!

We spent a couple of very long and hot nights on the boat, and then on August 26^th, our friend Eric arrived. We had been looking forward to his visit for quite some time and were also excited to get off the boat and stay in air conditioned hotels for a week. He had a full week planned, which started with the first night in the tourist hub of Kuta.

Eric booked hotels at a couple different spots on the island, and after the initial night in Kuta, we moved to Nusa Dua on the south east side of Bali for several days.   This part of the island has some of Bali’s best beaches, and we spent a fair bit of time over the next couple days relaxing at the beach.

On our first afternoon, we rented scooters and made our way to the southwest end of the island. We had a nice ride over, as this area is less crowded and the roads wind along the tops of the cliffs, offering great views over the ocean. Our first stop was at Uluwatu, on the southwest end of the island. This place is a popular surfing spot with world-class breaks, as well as a nice beach and swimming and snorkeling on the reefs.

After parking at the top of the bluff, there is a long steep walkway that zigzags down the cliff. There are restaurants and shops along the way, each with panoramic ocean views. We made our way down to the beach and then up a rickety wooden staircase up to the “Hard Rock Café”. This is not part of the chain, but just a small restaurant on top of a very large rock that sits on the beach. We had nice lunch in the restaurant while watching the surfers ride some enormous waves. This was definitely one of our favorite spots on the island.

top left: hard rock cafe perched on top of a large rock on the beach. other pics are views from the restaurant.

After hanging out for a while on the beach and going for a swim on the reef, we headed back out for the short ride down the road to see the temple, Pura Luhur Uluwatu. We rented the required sarongs, and took a walk around the temple compound, which has a resident troop of monkeys that are known for being quite aggressive. This temple is not one of the more beautiful on the island, but it is situated right on the edge of a cliff. You can walk for quite a distance along the cliff tops in either direction from the temple and see some really nice views out over the ocean.

Pura Luhur Uluwatu

While staying in Nusa Dua, we booked a bike tour that came highly recommended. The tour company picked us up from the hotel early one morning and after a stop to pick up the rest of our group, we headed north to the central mountainous area of the island. The first part of the tour involved a quick visit of a local coffee plantation.

There were several different kinds of coffee as well as tea and spices that were grown at the plantation, but this place is best known for their Luwak coffee. This is very expensive coffee that is produced on Bali and a few other Indonesian islands and is made through an unusual process. The coffee berries, beans and all, are eaten off the trees by the Asian palm civet, which looks a bit like a ferret. The fruit is then digested, with the exception of the beans, which pass through their system whole. The beans are then scooped up, washed off and roasted. The coffee made from these beans is supposed to be really good, not only because the animals pick the best beans, but because there is some level of fermentation that occurs while the beans are in their stomachs.

At the end of the tour, they bring out a bunch of samples of the various coffees and teas that they produce. We had decided not to try the Luwak coffee at first, since the ways the beans are processed sounds disgusting. But then we saw how they were roasting the beans over the fire and decided that probably killed anything. The coffee tasted ok, but none of us were overly impressed. We actually preferred some of the other teas and spiced drinks over the coffee.

coffee plantation tour and tasting

After the plantation, we stopped for breakfast in the village of Penelokan. From the restaurant balcony there were really nice views of nearby Gunung Batar and the crater lake, Danau Batar, at its base. Gunung Batar is an active volcano that has erupted more than 20 times in the last 200 years. On several occasions those eruptions have resulted in lava flows burying nearby villages, one of them killing over 1,000 people. It still erupts periodically, but we didn’t see anything while there.

When breakfast was over, we piled back in the van and drove to an area where the bikes were waiting for us. The bike tour consisted of a mainly downhill ride on less traveled roads around the countryside and through some villages. We wound our way through rice paddies, by temples and cemeteries. We had a really good guide who would stop periodically to point out certain things and give us information about the island and the Balinese culture.

During this time, the ten-day festival of Galungan was in full swing, and our tour was on the day before the final and most important day of Kuningan. The ten-day festival celebrates the victory of good over evil and the ancestral souls are thought to visit earth. As we rode through the villages, we saw many of the locals erecting their elaborate penjor (bamboo poles hung with offerings) which arch over the road. Most of the homes had poles up already, but there were a few procrastinators that were just finishing decorating them.

bike tour

The last stop was at the home of our tour guide. He and his family live in a traditional Balinese house in Ubud. This is actually a walled housing compound with about 10 small buildings, that all serve a certain purpose are arranged in a special way throughout courtyard. There was amazing detail in the stone work on the buildings, and the windows and doors were beautifully carved wood. He introduced us to his family, who had prepared a traditional Balinese feast for us. It was the best meal we had on Bali, and after lunch, they let us look around their family temple. The tour turned out to be a really nice way to see the island, and afterword they gave us a ride back to the hotel in Nusa Dua.

Bali bike tour group

After several days in Nusa Dua, we relocated north to Ubud. We rented scooters again for the day to do a tour of the rice fields. There are a lot of rice fields in the Ubud area, but we decided to drive a little further and see the more impressive fields further north at Jatiluwih. This area is located on the fertile southern slopes of Gunung Batukaru, Bali’s second-highest peak. Although the area is not a long way from Ubud, the traffic was heavy, and it took several hours to get there. By the time we arrived, it was late in the afternoon. Unfortunately, this left us only an hour to ride around and see the fields before we would run out of daylight and have to head back. Although it was a bit of a hassle getting there, it was definitely worth it. The views of the tiered rice fields seemed to go on forever, and we really enjoyed riding the scooters through the narrow pathways that wound through the rice fields. We even watched some of the locals harvesting the rice, which seems like very hard work as it is all done by hand.

Jatiluwih rice fields

After riding around for about an hour, we were losing light and decided to head back via a different route, since traffic was bad on the way in. This was a bad decision, as some of the roads were in bad shape, and we ended up getting stuck behind a procession. Hundreds of people in ceremonial garb were walking down the street for several miles and taking up both lanes of the road so that no traffic could get through. By the time it was over, it was dark and we still had a long way to go. We had a hard time finding our way back to Ubud, making several wrong turns along the way. The few traffic signs in Bali are usually covered by some sort of vegetation, and there are definitely no lights shining on them at night. We stopped a few times to ask for directions and made it back to the hotel quite late, lucky to be in one piece and ready to park the scooters.

The next day, we got a taxi out of Ubud and headed west to Sanur. From this beachside village, we caught a ferry out to the small islands west of Bali. There are actually three islands that are grouped close together about 10 miles off the coast. Nusa Penida is the largest and then there are two other islands, Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Ceningan which are quite small and connected via a bridge. Our plan was to visit the two small islands and stay on the larger and more developed of the two, Nusa Lembongan. Shortly after we bought our tickets, we were told to start boarding the ferry. There are no docks in Sanur, so the ferry boats anchor out and tie a stern line to shore. You wade out in the water and jump on, which can be challenging when the boat is surging forward and back in the swell.

colorful boats in Sanur

After a half hour ferry ride, we arrived in Mushroom Bay on the west side of Nusa Lembongan. After the boat anchored, we got our luggage and waded ashore. The change in pace was immediately felt. The small bay with white sand beaches seemed quite laid back compared to Bali. We checked into our hotel in Mushroom Bay and then rented two scooters to explore the islands. While paying for the rental, we asked the guy about helmets. He laughed and told us people don’t wear helmets on the island because the speed limit was only 15 mph.

Nusa Lembongan

It didn’t take long to get around the island, even at 15 mph. The roads are not crowded, as there are no cars and just a few pickup trucks. Mostly people get around by walking, bicycle or scooter. There are only 7,000 people living there, compared to the 4 million on Bali. After lunch, we rode to the other side of the island, which took about ten minutes.

While riding around, we were surprised to run into a kite flying contest in progress. This was apparently a big deal, and there were some really cool homemade kites being flown. The contest was held at Dream Beach on the southwest side of the island. What was more interesting than seeing the kites was watching the participants arrive. The groups of 20 or 30 people that were involved in making the kites walked to Dream Beach on the road in a procession accompanied by music and holding the kites over their heads on display. They were obviously very proud of them. We stayed to watch a few of the launches. One was the clear favorite, which was a red, white and black striped kite with a tail 5 ft wide and 50 ft long.

kite flying contest at Dream Beach on Nusa Lembongan

We spent a couple nights at our hotel in Mushroom Bay. There was a nice beach out front and a fringing reef that provided protection to the shallow waters along the northwest side of the island. The shallow waters within this reef make a nice area for growing seaweed, which is what many of the local people do for a living. It was interesting to see the Balinese people harvesting the red and green seaweed, piling it high into their small boats. After rowing to shore, they load it into baskets and carry it off to spread it out so it can dry. It looked like hard work.

seaweed farming on Nusa Lembongan

These islands are also known as good snorkeling and diving areas, and we wanted to spend some time in the water while there. We decided to hire a local boat and found somebody on the beach to take us out for a few hours to do some snorkeling. It is important to have some local expertise here, as there are strong currents that go around the island. In fact, earlier in the week some experienced Europeans divers went out and a couple guys were taken away by the strong current and never heard from again.

Our guide took us to some great spots. The first one had really nice coral and lots of colorful fish along the steep slopes off the island of Nusa Penida. Unfortunately, there were also many tiny jelly fish here that were stinging us, so we decided to move. The next stop was along the fringing reef of Nusa Lembongan. The current was running here, and we drifted for almost a mile along the reef with our guide following behind in the boat. It had been a while since we had done any snorkeling, and it was nice to be in the water again.

The next day we set out to ride the scooters around nearby Nusa Ceningan. This is the smallest of the three islands at about three miles long and one mile wide. We got to the island via the bridge that links the two islands, which was a bumpy ride over the wooden planks. The bridge is only big enough to support scooters, which is ok because there aren’t any cars or trucks on Nusa Ceningan. The roads were a bit rough on the island, but there were some really nice views from various lookouts. There was almost nothing there in terms of tourist activities or facilities, although we did find a place where they had cliff jumping.

There were various platforms along the cliff face at different heights and one of the locals was there to collect 50,000 Rp (about $5) from anyone who wanted to jump. When someone showed up, he dangled a long ladder down into the water and tied it off. The surf comes in quite strong, and there is also a bit of a current at the bottom. Eric was the only one brave enough to jump, and he did it from the highest point (43 ft). You actually have to wait for the guy to tell you when to jump, because he has to watch the waves and time it as a small one is coming in. Then once you land in the water, he is yelling to swim as hard as you can for the ladder, before the current takes you out to sea.

bridge between Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Ceningan, Eric cliff jumping

After the cliff jumping, we completed our drive around the island, stopping to check out some of the seaweed farming. It seems that most of the people living on the smaller Nusa Ceningan were making a living by seaweed farming. Apparently, it is difficult to grow unless the conditions are ideal. This means a shallow area with water moving over it, but not too much current. It also has to be just the right water temperature and salt content. The shallow water between the two islands is perfect for this, and we saw lots of boats out harvesting. Seaweed was also spread out on the ground to dry around most of the houses near the water.

seaweed farming on Nusa Ceningan

Our week of sight-seeing flew by, and before we knew it, Eric was off to the airport to catch his flight home. We had a really good time over the week he was in Bali and it was sad to say good-bye. After a week of living the good life in air conditioned hotels, we moved back into the boat. Because of the rat incident, we still kept our hatches closed at night, and it was really hot.

We were ready to get out of there and start our long journey across the Indian Ocean. As we prepared to leave, Di developed severe abdominal pain and was running a fever. She went to the Bali International Medical Centre to get a check-up. The medical care was very professional, with a quick turn-around time on the lab tests. Unfortunately, the results showed that Di had a parasite, likely picked up from something she ate or drank, and the treatment involved two rounds of antibiotics over the next 17 days.

We were definitely ready to start the next leg of our trip, but also felt it would be prudent to wait a few days to make sure there were no side effects from the antibiotics before heading out to sea. We continued preparing Saviah for the passage during the day, primarily stowing things and topping off fuel and water. We had provisioned heavily in Darwin, but still needed to shop for fresh fruits and vegetables before leaving.

We decided to check into a hotel near the hospital for our last few days. The rooms were air conditioned, which gave us some reprieve from the heat at night, especially Di who was running a fever. It was also nice to be next to the hospital in case her symptoms worsened. Andrew was also tested, so we didn’t have any surprises while at sea and miles away from help.

After three days, the boat was ready to go, and Di wasn’t showing any significant side effects from the antibiotics. We made our five stops at the various offices to clear out of the country and headed out on September 8^th. Our next destination would be the islands of Cocos Keeling, 1,100 miles away.

Bali, Indonesia, part 1 (2012)

2012-12-30T07:01:00.000-08:00

We weighed anchor early in the morning of August 6^th, and headed out of Darwin Harbor on our way to Bali, Indonesia, 965 miles away. Our route took us west out of Darwin for 450 miles to pass between Ashmore Reef and Hibernia Reef. This stretch of water is shallow (depths generally between 100-150 ft), and there are many shoals and oil derricks to avoid in addition to the reefs. The winds were light near the Australian coast, which is normal for this area. Once we rounded Ashmore Reef, we altered course to the NW toward Bali and after that, we had good E to SE winds from 12 - 20 knots for the rest of the trip. We made great time, averaging 6-7 knots, boosted by a little current. We approached Bali a day ahead of schedule after an uneventful passage and were excited to be on track for an early afternoon arrival on August 12th.

As we approached the island of Lombok, just east of Bali, we started to feel the effects of the strong currents that run through the Indonesian archipelago. The last 40 miles were a bit of an emotional roller coaster as we first thought we had plenty of time to make it by nightfall flying along at 7 knots, only to find an hour later we were only making 2 knots against the current and resigned ourselves to another night at sea. Then a couple hours later, we would be going 7 knots again for a few hours and then back to 2 knots as the tide turned. Given the hazards around the entrance, we knew this was not a harbor to approach after dark. Fortunately, we were able to make it into Benoa Harbor at 5:30 pm with just enough light to make it into the marina.

The harbor felt a bit chaotic as fishing boats large and small shared the waters with power boats that were speeding around in all directions, pulling tourists on water-skis and parasails, some of them coming quite close to us. We hailed the marina on the VHF and were relieved to hear they had room for us. We pulled into the slip and the marina staff helped us tie off our dock lines. We didn’t have to worry about clearing in that night as the offices were closed, so we got cleaned up and enjoyed dinner ashore.

Indonesia is an archipelago made up of over 13,000 islands stretching over roughly 3,200 miles with a population of almost 240 million people. The island of Bali would be our only stop in the country. If we had more time, we would like to visit more of the islands, as Bali is quite different culturally than the rest of the country. Although Indonesia is the largest country in the world with a Muslim majority, the Balinese are mainly Hindu and the only Hindu society in all of Southeast Asia.

The morning after we arrived, we set off to complete the clearance formalities, which are rumored to be a long and frustrating process. Thankfully, four of the five offices are within walking distance of the marina. Determined to be patient, we stopped first at the immigration office to get our 30-day visas. Less than 15 minutes later, we were on our way to the quarantine office, another surprisingly short and painless stop. After we paid our 50,000 Rupiah (roughly $5 USD) to the quarantine, the next stop was the customs office. The customs officer arrived, signed, and stamped our crew list without any questions or fees. So far, this was going way too smoothly.

Our next stop was the Navy office, but we were misinformed that it was located on nearby Serangen Island. We took a cab over to Serangen Island, found the small Navy office, but they told us we needed to go to the main offices in the capital city of Denpasar. So, we renegotiated our cab fare to include another stop in Denpasar.

Once we found the Navy office in Denpasar, the process took only a few minutes. With our five signed and stamped copies of the crew list, we made our way back to the harbor master to complete the process. All in all, the clearance process was much easier than we anticipated, and by noon, we were free to explore the island.

There was a long list of places we wanted to see on Bali, and we quickly figured out that we couldn’t afford to travel by cab. The bus system wasn’t very good on the island either, and we noticed that most of the locals got around on scooters. We talked to the marina about renting one, and it turns out that they are fairly inexpensive, at around $4 per day.

The next day, the marina had a scooter brought over and we filled out the rental contract before the guy gave us a very brief rundown on driving in Bali. He didn’t speak very good English, but mentioned we needed to drive on the left hand side of the road, if the police pulled us over we would be required to pay a bribe (otherwise they would keep the registration), and if we were low on fuel, then something about a vodka bottle that we couldn’t quite understand.

The Balinese did not seem to be overly concerned with traffic laws and rules of the road. There didn’t seem to be any age restrictions either. People didn’t pay attention to lanes, and you could have four scooters and three cars side by side on a two lane road. Riding the scooter turned out to be much faster than travelling by car. As cars stacked up at traffic lights, we could weave in and out and get to the front of the line, saving lots of time.   Sidewalks were not off limits, and driving the wrong way on a one way seemed to be ok as long as you stayed off to the side.

The only drawback, other than obvious safety concerns, was getting pulled over and having to pay a bribe. We ended up getting pulled over three times while we were there, including once when we didn’t do anything wrong. It was really annoying, but still an inexpensive way to get around even with the occasional $10 bribe.

Many of the locals ride these scooters, and even though most are only 125cc’s, they are real work horses. It is hard to believe how much can be carried on such a small vehicle. It was fairly common to see a family of five zipping around town on one, and we would frequently see cargo stacked on the back that went several feet over the drivers head. As part of an upcoming holiday, the Balinese people decorated tall bamboo poles (40-50ft high) that were then planted in front of each house. Most of these were brought home via scooter. We learned quickly to stay well clear when someone was making a turn carrying one of these poles. Once we were even passed by a couple guys on a scooter, and the passenger was carrying five very unhappy quacking ducks in each hand.

The tourism industry is primarily focused in the south, and the hub of it is the town of Kuta. For our first trip from the marina, we decided to check out this area. This was probably not the best area to go into first, as it is the most congested part of the island and required the most aggressive driving. It was bit nerve-wracking at first as Andrew maneuvered the bike through the streets while Di held on for dear life, reading the map and shouting directions forward.

Kuta was packed with bars, nightclubs, restuarants, shops and a long stretch of beach. Amongst the crowds of the tourists walking around, the local Balinese still went about many of their traditional customs. It was common to see them making dailing offerings, called canang, which are banana-leaf trays that have been pinned together with bamboo splinters and filled with rice, fruit, flowers and incense. Offerings for the gods are placed in elevated positions and those meant for demons are scattered on the ground. It was hard to walk around without accidentally stepping on or kicking one of these offerings.

Unfortunately, when you pick up a rented scooter, they only leave you with a tiny bit of gas, and we ran out within an hour. We had been looking for a gas station since leaving the marina, but couldn’t seem to find one. That is when we figured out what the guy was talking about when he mentioned the vodka bottles. Stores all over Kuta had small stands with vodka bottles filled with gasoline. You could buy a liter for about 5,000 Rupiah (50 cents). We bought a couple liters, and the guy at the stand dumped them through a filter into our tank. We were back in business a few minutes later.

Scooters are very popular around Bali.

As we planned our travel around the island, it became obvious that we would be better off spending a few nights away from the boat, as the island is a decent size (90 miles across from east to west and 70 miles across from north to south). Going back and forth from the boat everyday was going to result in more time on the road and less at the actual sites. According to our guide book, there were inexpensive losmen or home stays all around the island where we could stay the night. They were mostly just a few rooms attached to someone’s house or a restaurant, and we found some decent places for only $20. Only some of them had hot water, but they were quite clean and comfortable. This meant that we could see a lot of the island over several days, and the shorter day hops meant we didn’t have to drive at night, which is also a bit dangerous since some of the vehicles/bicycles/animals that share the road don’t have lights. So we packed up our backpacks and headed north from the marina for a several day trip to explore the island.

We first headed back to Denpasar, the capital of Bali, to visit the Bali Museum. This was an interesting introduction to the history and culture of the island. We learned a bit about the history of the Indonesian Islands, which gained their independence from the Dutch in 1962. We also learned a few things about the Hindu religion and the many temples that we had seen around. Apparently each village has three temples: the temple of origin (pura puseh), the day-to-day village temple (pura desa) and the temple of the dead (pura dalem). There are many villages around Bali, and with three temples in each village, this results in over 20,000 temples on the island. There are also nine directional temples, which are located at strategic points across the island . Every temple has an anniversary celebration, called odalan, which lasts three days. Since there are so many temples, it is hard not to witness a few of these celebrations while visiting. It was a nice museum and quite small, which was good because we usually don’t last more than an hour in museums.

Bali Museum

A short walk away, we found the local market, Pasar Badung. This is the largest market and is open 24 hours a day. It was much different than the ones in the touristy areas. Our guide book’s description of “chaotic” was spot on. Stall owners were persistent in their sales pitch, and they would swarm around us as we shopped. One woman followed us for three blocks. The first floor had mainly fruits and vegetables, as well as some stacks of cooked meat. We were in search of some hot curry powder and found some at a spice stand. Bartering is a common practice at these markets, so we were prepared to negotiate. We picked out a small packet of hot curry powder and chili powder, each roughly 4 ounces. Our jaws dropped when the woman told us the price was 360,000 Rp – almost $40 USD! We started to walk away, but she asked us what we would be willing to pay, and after a bit of back and forth, she reluctantly accepted 70,000 Rp, which was still probably way too high.

market in Denpasar

From Denpasar we headed north to Batubulan to see some traditional Balinese dancing. What we actually ended up seeing was a Barong-Rangda dramatization. This is a traditional Balinese play about the forces of good and evil. Apparently the actual play is quite long, but it has been shortened for us tourists with short attention spans. It was quite entertaining, and they had had some very elaborate costumes and masks.

Barong-Rangda play

From Batubulan we made our way toward Ubud, with the plan to stop in some of the small towns along the way. Many of the villages in the Ubud area specialize in a type of craft, such as wood or stone carvings or basket weaving to name a few. We made a quick stop in Celuk, the village known for its silverwork. After that, we went to Mas, which is well known on the island for their woodcarving. They had rooms full of carvings in ebony, sandalwood and other hardwoods. There were some beautiful carvings, but they were really expensive.

Our next stop was Ubud, the area considered to be the cultural hub of the island, where we spent several hours walking around the town. There are many temples, museums and art galleries, Balinese dance shows, various craft studios, and traditional ceremonies. As we walked through Ubud, we passed several temples. Tourists are not allowed in some of the temples, but we found one on the main road that allowed tourists to walk around the courtyard. The paths leading up to the temple were framed by ponds with hundreds of lily pads. The stone carvings and other adornments of the temple were intricate and beautifully made.

temple in Ubud

Another highlight of Ubud was the monkey forest, where we saw what our guide book described as “malevolent but photogenic long-tailed macaques.” There are walkways throughout the park as well as a temple and about 300 of these monkeys living there. Several stalls near the entrance sold bananas and peanuts to feed the monkeys, which was a popular thing for the kids to do. Once they knew you had food, the monkeys were quite aggressive, pulling on people’s arms and climbing on their backs to take the food. A few of the kids probably left the park never wanting to see another monkey again.

Ubud Monkey Forest

After Ubud, our next stop was for lunch in Gianyar, which is known for babi guling (roasted suckling pig stuffed with chillies, rice, and spices). Walking into the restaurant, we passed by the pig and the woman carving it, who was all business. We sat down, and without ordering, they brought over two plates heaping full with various parts of the pig, as well as a side of soup with shredded pork. Most of it was quite delicious, but there were definitely some things that we couldn’t identify.

preparation of babi guling

From Gianyar, we made our way north to see one of the most important temples. Pura Lempuyang Luhur is one of the nine directional temples and sits on the slopes of the mountain called Gunung Lempuyang. Hiking up to the main temple involves climbing 1,700 stairs, which sounded like a good way to get some exercise, as well as take in some of the great views. At the gates, we both rented the mandatory sarongs and started climbing.

There are seven or so other temples along the way, but there isn’t a map and no signs to show which way to go. Unfortunately about halfway up, we took a wrong turn and made our way back down through another valley and ended up at one of the local villages. After a few inquiries, we realized our error, and trudged back up the stairs. By now, we were really hot and sweaty in our rented sarongs, but we kept climbing. After arriving at the main temple, you can walk up another hour and a half to visit one more temple at the summit.

We were amazed at the hundreds of Balinese people, young and old, in full traditional ceremonial dress that were descending as we were climbing. Many of the women were balancing large baskets on their heads. They were all smiles and very few passed without saying hello. Finally, three hours after starting, we made it to the top. The views were stunning, especially of nearby Mount Agung, which is an active volcano and the highest peak on Bali at almost 10,000 ft. After a short rest, we made our way back down in less than an hour. Our calves ached for a week after that.

Pura Lempuyang Luhur

After the temple, we stopped at the Taman Tirtagangga Water Palace. It was our main reason for visiting Tirtagangga, and was where we would be staying the night. This was constructed on the site of a holy spring, with pools and fountains and lots of stone statues. The palace itself wasn’t very exciting, but it is surrounded by beautiful scenery, including lots of tiered rice fields. The room that we rented for the night was actually in the middle of a rice field.

statues in the water palace, Di in front of our room in the rice fields

The next morning, we were up early to go for a walk through the rice paddies. There are locals that you can pay to guide you through the fields, but we thought we would try it on our own. Our waiter the previous night told us it was ok to walk through the fields, as long as you don’t walk on the rice plants.

After walking around for a while, we realized it wasn’t quite as simple as just walking through the rice paddies. It involved balancing along the elevated and sometimes slippery edges of the flooded rice fields and jumping over the irrigation canals. These fields were being worked by local families that lived in huts spread throughout the fields. The irrigation canals were actually their source of water for bathing and laundry. We had some awkward moments when we unexpectedly walked up on people bathing in the canal waters. When we did come across people who were fully clothed, we asked if it was ok to be there. They all assured us that it was fine, and we could go wherever we wished. Several happily smiled for pictures.

Tirtagangga rice fields

After a walk through the rice fields, we packed our backpack, got back on the scooter and headed to the north. The further north we made it, the less important the tourism industry was and the more it felt like the authentic Bali. Our next stop was the village of Amed on the northeast coast. There are some nice reefs close to shore here, with lots of colorful fish and rays. We spent the day walking around and went snorkeling in a couple of areas, including on the wreck of a Japanese freighter that was sunk in about 30 feet of water just off the beach.

We spent the night in Amed and the next morning we packed up and headed south, this time along the coast. Riding the scooter down this stretch of coastal road was definitely one of the highlights of our stay in Bali. The coastline here is dotted with many beautiful bays with crystal clear water and beaches, framed by rugged cliffs. For several miles, the road is very hilly, passing through the small fishing villages at sea level, and then climbing steeply to traverse along the cliffs for great views of the bays and beyond. The landscape was quite different than what we had seen in other parts of the island. Riding along, we were surprised to see hundreds of fisherman in their sailing canoes returning to the beach after early morning fishing excursions. It was quite a sight to see all of the colorful sails dotting the horizon.

sailing canoes on the coastline near Amed

After we made our way down the east coast, we decided to visit the west coast of Bali, primarily to see another directional temple, Pura Tanah Lot. This is considered one of the holiest places on Bali, and is very popular with tourists. We were shocked to find thousands of people swarming the area. The temple complex has a distinct focus on tourism, with hundreds of stalls selling everything from t-shirts and sarongs to paintings and wood carvings. The temple itself is on a small island, surrounded by water most of the day. As the water recedes at low tide, a strip of sand is exposed that connects it to the main island, providing easier access. Only worshippers are allowed to enter the temple compounds, but many tourists wade across to get a closer look. There are several more temples along the coast, and we spent some time visiting them, as well as walking around the rice paddies above the beach.

Pura Tanah Lot and the nearby coastline

We still had many places to see, but it was time for us to head back to Saviah for a few nights to do some boat work. Our friend Eric, from Seattle, was due to arrive soon, and we looked forward to seeing more of the island during his visit.

Australia (2012)

2012-10-29T23:45:00.001-07:00

We departed Fife Bay on the SE coast of Papua New Guinea on Monday, July 9^th. The weather forecast looked good, and we set out early with ESE winds at 12-18 knots. Our next destination was Australia, and our route would take us first to the west northwest around the Great Barrier Reef, and then to the southwest through the Torres Strait. This strait is between New Guinea and Australia, where the Coral Sea to the east and the Arafura Sea to the west meet. The shallow waters are a maze of reefs and some 274 islands making it bit of a challenge to navigate through. Since this is the primary channel between the Pacific and Indian Oceans, it’s also a busy shipping route.

By the second day, our winds had lightened to ESE 8-12, and we had a hard time keeping the sails full as we rolled back and forth. Progress was slow at only 2-3 knots. We had the genoa poled out, but despite our efforts, it kept luffing, and after a day the sail started to rip along the foot. We replaced it with the smaller working jib and resigned ourselves to motoring until the winds picked up.

The light conditions persisted for 36 hours, and then the trade winds filled in Thursday night as we passed between Portlock Reefs and Goldie Reefs, the first of many we would be navigating through over the next few days. It was nice to be sailing again, and we were back up to 5-6 knots thanks to a little current. The following morning, we neared Bramble Cay and made our turn to the SW, entering the Great Northeast Channel to the Torres Strait on a close reach into SE 10-15 knot winds. As we were now in the lee of the Great Barrier Reef, there was almost no ocean swell, just small wind waves, and the sailing was pleasant despite the fact that we were going to windward.

From Bramble Cay, it is roughly 130 miles through the Torres Strait to Thursday Island where we would clear into the country. If we continued to sail straight through, it was likely that we would arrive in about 24 hours. Unfortunately, the next day was a Saturday. The cost of clearing into Australia on a boat is very expensive, and the additional overtime charges for clearing in on the weekend are even harder to swallow. Because of this, and the fact that navigating the strait during daylight hours was much more appealing, we chose to do shorter day hops and time our arrival for Monday morning. We are allowed to stop and anchor before clearing in as long we fly the quarantine flag and don’t leave the boat (or have contact with other boats).

So, we set our course for Rennel Island, 53 miles away, which was no problem to reach before sunset averaging 6 knots. Andrew fished along the way and hooked a large wahoo fairly quickly. We got it to the boat, but missed gaffing it before it got away. We put the fishing lines back in the water, and nabbed a blue fin tuna right before reaching the anchorage. This one we got on board.

We approached Rennel Island around 1:30 pm, very cautiously as we had little information on the anchorage and no detailed charts. We did know it was uninhabited, and there was a reef surrounding the island, with coral heads extending off the shore in many areas. We motored around and finally found a spot in the lee of the island in 25 feet to drop the hook. It wasn’t a great anchorage and we were a bit closer to the reef than we would have liked. Fortunately, the trade winds in the Torres Strait blow quite consistently from the SE, which we were counting on to keep us in deeper water. The forecast didn’t show any wind shifts, but we set the anchor drag and shallow water alarms on the GPS just in case and enjoyed a fresh tuna steak for lunch.

It was nice to get a full night sleep, and Saturday morning we were well rested as we set off to make the 40 mile jump south to Sue Islet. It was a very pleasant sail on a close reach in a 15 knot breeze. The course passed by a large exposed wreck of a 400 ton vessel on one of the reefs. We made good time and dropped the hook at 3 pm, sitting beam to the wind as the strong currents pulled us to the side. Of the 274 islands in the Torres Strait, 17 are inhabited, and Sue Islet was the first one we came to that was. Unfortunately, we were stuck on the boat until we officially cleared in.

sailing the Torres Strait

Sunday morning, we made the 40 mile trip southwest to Wednesday Island, just a few miles north of Thursday Island. The winds were stronger, and we flew along at 7 knots in the ESE 20-25 knot winds. Andrew caught another tuna, which made for a couple of good meals. Catching fish while sailing through the Torres Strait was really easy. Tuna were constantly jumping around us, and fish were biting lures within minutes of getting them in the water.

By 3 pm, we were anchored off Wednesday Island, and the strong trade winds that were forecasted had arrived. That night was a long one with sustained winds in the 25-30 knot range and gusting much higher. We put out lots of scope, but our anchor was slowly dragging. We just kept an eye on it, as depths in the area were consistently 30-40 ft, and there was plenty of room behind us. We were up throughout the night monitoring our position, and finally around 2 am, after dragging 200 ft, the anchor seemed to be set.

On Monday morning, we motored the nine miles over to Thursday Island, which was a slow trip going against a strong current. Thursday Island is the administrative and commercial center of the Torres Strait Islands. The anchorage in front of Thursday Island is exposed to the trade winds, so we anchored across the channel and in the lee of nearby Horn Island. We dropped the anchor in 30 feet of water and hailed the Australian customs office on the VHF. The current flows quite fast through the channel (often reaching 4 knots), so we made sure to let out plenty of scope.

Within an hour, a small powerboat pulled up alongside with customs, immigration and quarantine officers. They boarded Saviah, and we went through the clearance formalities. Australia has a bad reputation among cruisers because of the very strict quarantine requirements and costs, and many people avoid it all together. We were expecting them to search every inch of the boat and dive on our hull to make sure we weren’t bringing in any unwanted sea life into Australian waters. Although we had just painted the bottom in New Zealand and did some scrubbing in Papua New Guinea before we left, the thought of having to pay for another haul out to get a few barnacles off the bottom made us a bit nervous. We were lucky though, as they didn’t search the boat at all and didn’t inspect the bottom of the boat either. We still had to pay an outrageously high quarantine fee of around $350, but the rest of the process was very quick and painless. We talked to a few other cruisers later on that complained of detailed searches of their boats that lasted several hours.

That afternoon, Annie and Ronnie, Australian cruisers on s/v Siri, stopped by to say “hello” and gave us the scoop on services on both Thursday Island and Horn Island. We were a little nervous about rowing the quarter mile to the dock in our little dinghy because of the salt water crocodiles, or salties as the locals call them. There are salties all along the northern coast of Australia, and the males can get up to 25 ft long – we could just imagine one of these ripping us out of our 8 ft dinghy. We asked the crew of Siri whether they thought it was safe. They said that there was a crocodile on the beach at the anchorage, but that they hadn’t seen it in a couple weeks and we would probably be ok. We were ready to stretch our legs and get some dinner and cold drinks, so we went for it (scanning the water the entire time).

The next day we rowed back to Horn Island and took the small ferry that goes across the channel to Thursday Island. We wanted to do some walking around and stop at the grocery store. We were also hoping to find a place with wi-fi to catch up on email, which we had last done in Vanuatu one month earlier. While on-line, we checked our credit card bill and learned that a few thousand dollars had been charged while we were at sea. This was an unfortunate surprise that we had to spend several hours sorting out and cancelling our credit cards.

We also took a short hike up to the top of Green Hill to see what is left of the old Victoria Barracks which was constructed in 1893. The top of the hill has great views of the surrounding islands. On our way back down, we stopped by the customs, immigration and quarantine offices and cleared out. We only spent two days in Thursday Island, but we were anxious to get to Darwin, and the forecast looked good for the trip.

Thursday Island

Our 750 mile passage from Thursday Island to Darwin involved first crossing the shallow Gulf of Carpentaria, about 250 miles across. Due to its shallow depths, the seas are often short and choppy, and it can become quite rough if the winds are strong. We heard that it’s wise to pick a weather window with lighter winds for the first few days. On Wednesday, July 18^th, we rode the early morning tide out and set sail in very light SE winds for Darwin.

We slowly made our way into the Gulf of Carpentaria for the first day but by Thursday the winds filled in nicely and we sailed along at 6 knots with a single-reefed main and gennaker. It was a bumpy ride, as the seas built in the shallow green water. On Friday, the winds shifted more to the south and increased to 18-25 knots, but we had cleared the shallow waters of the gulf. We doused the gennaker, unfurled the jib and tucked in the 2^nd reef in the main. We continued to make 6 knots on a beam reach for the next few days. Throughout our passage, we were contacted on the VHF by an Australian customs plane that flew overhead. We would hear it fly by and wait by the VHF for them to call and ask the name of the boat, last port and next port. They seem to keep good tabs on cruisers here.

The last 110 miles of our passage into Darwin involved crossing the Van Diemen Gulf and passing through the Clarence Strait, which has strong tidal currents that change direction several times a day and require good timing. The information we had indicated that the best time to start the passage from Cape Don is when it is four hours before high tide in Darwin. Since there are two high tides about 12 hours apart in Darwin and the passage is 110 miles, the decision was whether to begin late in the day and arrive in daylight, or begin in the morning and arrive after nightfall. Since the Clarence Strait is well charted with good navigational aids, we opted to start during the second high tide at 4 pm and arrive in Darwin the following afternoon. As we approached the Van Diemen Gulf, it was after 4 pm and we had missed the window, so we anchored in Port Essington for the night and would head in to Darwin the following day. We had a really peaceful night at anchor as the winds and seas were both starting to calm down.

We left Port Essington the next morning and reached Cape Don a couple hours early. Our wind completely died right before we got there, so we fired up the engine as we needed to keep a decent pace to keep favorable tides with us the entire way.

At 6 pm, our emergency bilge pump and alarm went off, and pumped several gallons of water from the bilge. This is never a good sign, and we frantically checked the through hulls, looking for leaks. The through hulls all seemed fine, so we started speculating about what was causing the leak. It wasn’t a major leak as it only pumped a few gallons every half hour, but we were still concerned, and it was frustrating to not know where it was coming from.

Finally around 10 pm, Andrew was crawling around in the bilge/engine room, and figured out that water was coming through the anti-siphon vent on the wet exhaust. The vent has a half inch clear plastic hose that runs off of it and down into the bilge. We weren’t sure why it was happening, but the exhaust and cooling system seemed to be working otherwise, so we decided it wasn’t critical and could wait until Darwin to figure it out. It was a bit unnerving to know that it was an engine issue, as we were motoring through an area with strong currents and no wind to sail with. We both stayed up throughout the night to navigate and take turns hand steering.

At 3 am, we noticed the bilge pump was no longer going off, and it didn’t happen again for the last five hours into Darwin. By this time we were in the middle of the Clarence Strait, and making 9-10 knots with the 3-4 knots of current. The strait is well charted and has lights throughout, and we zipped through covering 35 miles in four hours.

By 5 am, we were just outside the entrance to Darwin harbor, so we slowed down to enter in daylight. We expected to arrive in the afternoon, but actually got there before the sun came up thanks to the free miles from a favorable current. The sky began to lighten around 6:30 am, and we made our way into the anchorage in Fannie Bay, about five miles northwest of downtown Darwin.

We were sharing the anchorage with what seemed like another 100 boats. The Sail Indonesia Rally participants were gathered in Darwin and leaving in a few days so it was crowded. There was another anchorage a few miles south, but boats were packed in tight. Staying in a marina was too expensive due to the additional cost of lock transit fees (all Darwin marinas use lock systems due to the large tidal change). The Fannie Bay anchorage was not ideal, but there was plenty of room and was our best option until the rally left.

The problem with our anchorage was that the tidal change could be up to 20 ft twice a day. This meant we had to anchor in at least 26 ft of water at high tide so we could have 6 ft of depth when the tide went out. Fannie Bay has a gently sloping seafloor and when we dropped the anchor in 26 ft of water at high tide, we were about a mile from shore. We really wished we had an outboard motor for the dinghy! It took us 45 minutes to row in, which is an especially long time when you are constantly looking over your shoulder for crocodiles.

We made the long row to shore a few times and caught a bus into downtown to have a look around and catch up on email. They have a good bus system in Darwin and getting around town was easy. Unfortunately, wifi is not very popular yet in the outback and was a bit difficult to find. We did eventually find it at the public library, and we emailed our mechanic in Seattle about the engine issue. We were happy to hear that it was likely a damaged gasket in the anti-siphon vented loop – replacing a gasket is a cheap fix. We ordered a spare and had it shipped to our friend Eric from Seattle who was meeting us in Bali in a few weeks. We also took this opportunity to order some other items that were either difficult to find or significantly more expensive outside the US.

Several days after we arrived, over a hundred cruising boats that were signed up with the rally hoisted their sails and set off to Indonesia. Darwin harbor looked empty, and we quickly weighed anchor and moved over near Cullen Bay. Before we dropped the anchor, we pulled up alongside at the fuel dock (outside the locks) to take on fresh water and give Saviah a much needed rinse. We then went out about a hundred yards and dropped the anchor beside only two other boats.

We had a long list of things to accomplish while in Darwin to prepare us for the next three months of cruising across the Indian Ocean. Provisioning was a big one, and our new anchorage near the Cullen Bay Marina would make things much easier. We had a short row to the fuel and ferry dock, where we could leave our dinghy, and it was only a short walk to the bus stop from there.

While in Australia, we also hoped to squeeze in a little time for tourist activities. We rented a car for a few days to see some sites and to make provisioning a little easier. The car we rented turned out to have a manual transmission, and Andrew had to quickly learn how to drive a left hand stick shift.

Our first stop was the Crocodylus Park & Zoo where they have over 1,000 crocodiles, as well as dozens of other animals. There is an organized tour of the saltwater crocodile lagoon and breeding pens that started right when we arrived. During the tour, our guide fed some of the crocodiles, which involved tying a string around raw meat and dangling it over them. It was amazing to see how high they could come out of the water as they would very slowly rise up and chomp down on it. It certainly didn’t help our anxiety later as we rowed back and forth from the boat.

salties at Crocodylus Park

At the end of the tour, the guide brought out a couple of baby crocodiles. Their mouths were taped shut so they couldn’t bite anyone, and Di took a turn holding one. The guide warned that they might squirm around and try to escape, so it was important to keep a firm grip and “don’t drop the babies”.

Di holding a baby croc

They also breed crocodiles at the zoo for their meat, which is quite popular here. After a day of walking around the park, we decided to get crocodile burgers for lunch. The meat was not bad, although we probably won’t order it again.

The next day we drove out to Litchfield National Park, about 75 miles south of Darwin. There are a series of roads that wind through the park, and you can drive to various points of interest and dozens of trailheads. Our first stop was an area with a bunch of termite mounds. We noticed these mounds along the road on the way in, but weren’t sure what they were. There are literally thousands of these mounds throughout the area, and some of them are 20 ft tall.

termite mounds at Litchfield National Park

We spent most of the day hiking to the various waterfalls in the park, many of which were designated swimming holes. The outback is hot and dry during the winter months, and it was really nice to go for a swim to cool off afterward. During the rainy season, there is flooding and some of the large saltwater crocodiles make their way inland and hang out in these swimming holes. In the dry winter months there are only freshwater crocodiles left, which are smaller and less of a threat to humans. We were glad not to see either.

hiking in Litchfield National Park

Unfortunately, our visit to Litchfield National Park and Crocodylus Park were about all of the time we had for tourist activities in Darwin. We spent most of our time preparing the boat for the long and potentially boisterous ride across the Indian Ocean. We made several trips to the grocery store to stock up on food to get us to South Africa and other supplies as well as fuel, water and propane. We ended up staying in Darwin for only two weeks and left on August 6^th. Next stop Bali, Indonesia.

sunset over Darwin Harbor