Stateside Again......

We finally left Lake Worth on Sunday April 3rd, working our way out through the assorted maniacs in high powered sports boats who seem to populate these waters. Two instances stand out; the VHF burst into life, not with the usual inane request for a "Radio Check" from some weekend warrior but someone reporting a shooting and that the gunman was calmly paddling away from the scene in a canoe..........and then 1/2 hour later a report of a child being towed behind one of the speed boats in one of those rubber ring affairs that seem so popular over here. Seems the driver of the boat hit an incoming wave at speed and the child was thrown into the air some 10' before crashing into the water...

The winds were light but favourable and we had high hopes of a reasonable passage and of getting to Ferandina Beach before the wind switched to the north. Didn't happen of course and we found ourselves offshore as the wind switched. We hove to for 18 hours waiting for it all to go through. The wind strength wasn't that high, perhaps 25knots but the north moving current caused waves to build up rapidly and beating into it would have had green water cascading along the deck or worse so we sat there under reefed mizzen and backed stays'l waiting and dozing until things improved. As they did; with the light winds and the lumpy sea we opted to use the Genny, Mizzen stays'l and the mizzen and spent a pleasant and relatively quiet few hours working our way up to Cumberland Island, just north of Fernandina. I don't know why I hadn't thought of that combination before because few things rile me as much as a sloppy sea and the main banging about and desperate attempts to save damage to both spars and sail. A winner and no doubt it'll appear on Hannah again before long. We crept in and anchored off Cumberland around 10pm noting other boats already at anchor. .The morning showed 3 others around us and another 2 already out in the ICW and heading North - the light from the southern heat was well under way.  

                                  

(Cumberland Island is noted for being a nature reserve and home to a herd or perhaps several herds of wild horses)  

We rested a day before heading back out to sea and north to meet up with our friends George and Lillian. Well Lillian, as George was still on his way back from the Bahamas in their 40' trawler. The journey began slowly as we drifted north but the wind picked up in the afternoon and we crammed on the sail to make up for the time spent drifting. As night came on we reduced to allow the self-steerer to work without wandering too much but by daylight the wind had fallen away, as promised, and the threat of missing the tide for the last 20 miles had us under engine. We motored up to a river north of the ICW and anchored in deep water. The much trumpeted thunderstorm didn't arrive although it became very squally and we moved to a more sheltered spot opposite some VERY large houses. A quiet night with no wind resulted....but the morning brought thick fog with vis. down to 1/4 mile but we left anyway thanks to the wonders of radar and electronic charts on a laptop. By the time we'd traveled the 4 miles or so down to the next river we were in sunshine and blue skies and another few hours had us entering the spur where our friends lived. Their dock proved easy to find as it held a myriad of boats whilst all others were either empty or had the usual centre-console speed machine and here we'll stay for a few days before resuming the familiar journey north.

The bliss of a well shaded home...........!!


And finally. Sometimes we see something that just makes us wish we'd thought of that. Crocs were such an item and despite the "what the...have you got on your feet" comments we got when we arrived home wearing said items, within 6 months they were everywhere. Well we have just seen another item. Simple, functional, great to look at - well take a look at them here. We met Laurel, the inspiration behind the product and you can see how, why etc she has worked for 3 years to get this product to market on this link:
http://www.bottlesupglass.com/

and they're neat people too.

When Butter Starts Melting You're Going The Wrong Way!!

March 7

Cruising very gently down a smooth stretch of pale green water; we're in the Golfo De Guanacabibe where the mainland swings SE then SW before rounding Cabo San Antonio. We arrived in Marina Hemingway late afternoon of Sat 26 Feb after a miserable week or so in Key West. The journey over had us beset with doubts but once in and the inevitable paper work dealt with we felt fine. Initially we had a problem as the Guarda Frontera insisted we hadn't cleared out correctly when we were last in Cuba in 2008. We insisted we had but on reflection we think they may be right although how the authorities at Cienfuego allowed us to get away with this crime escapes us. They cautioned us about following the correct procedure and then insisted we had medical insurance at a cost of CUC2.50 per person per day for the length of time you remain in Cuba (A CUC is Cuban Convertible Currency and is very roughly about $1) Luckily Bee was switched on enough to hand over our E111 cards for European Health Insurance and that seemed to satisfy the authority. The Harbourmaster came aboard later to explain the charges (.55CUC pf pd) and spoke briefly about the new rules the Guarda had introduced.

Hemingway, a series of canals some 90 miles from KW is sheltered but subject to noise from the hotels/discos that are nearby. Music plays constantly, much of it poor 80's disco, and loudly. But the nearby town or perhaps suburb of Havana is interesting and we enjoyed a peddle through the busy streets in the heat. Until we were accosted by a very smart traffic cop on a modern Japanese Yamaha who curtly told us, and a nearby Cuban, to get off the road and walk our bikes along the pavement......

Cuban Fishing Port

The Marina had a motley collection of cruisers, including an Aussie boat we'd met in KW. They had left 2 hours after us but arrived some 7 hours before......we were left wondering at the speed of modern hull designs until one of the crew let out that they'd motored the distance.....Aaah yes its the modern way, when speeds drop below 3 or 4 knots turn the engine on.

We left after paying our bill, collecting all the paper work and heading down the west coast. With Cruising Permit, Visas and 3 overnight fees the bill came to CUC150 but once clear of a marina it is often possible to anchor undisturbed as long as you stay away from habitation. We cruised through the night and chose to enter through the back door avoiding the town of La Esperanza.... The Pilot book we use is a) 14 years old and b) the  C-Map charts we were using had very little coverage of this area. Nevertheless we slid on and with Bee stood on the end of the bowsprit looking out for shallows we worked our way in and then onto an anchorage for a couple of days. Much of the out of the way places along here consist of mangrove with good holding and though this was a wide open space we were comfortable. We opted to anchor the next day in Santa Lucia but rather than go into the town we anchored off the channel in a well sheltered mangrove area - probably a good hurricane hole with good enough depths, at least 3 metres, for us. Our arrival hadn't gone unnoticed and the Guarda duly arrived. Obviously not a lot of cruising activity here as he returned our docs the following morning unstamped so he probably wasn't sure what he should do with them anyway.

Sunday March 13

Anchored off Cayo Real, part of a series of Cays to the west of Isla Juventud after a 28 hour bash to windward. Of which there have been a few in the last week!

The cruise down from Santa Lucia was uneventful, creeping inside the reef that protects much of that area from the deep water. The fishermen we spoke to assured us the water was deep and by keeping close to the reef we should be fine...we were and made it to Caya Buanavista for the night and on the next day toward the marina that sits close to Cabo San Antonio. Arriving in the dark we opted to move over to another cay and anchor before heading in and straight back out from the marina....by the time we had arrived the wind had picked up and the shallow area to l'ward of the marina seemed to have an unhealthy pull on us making manoeuvring difficult in a tight space. Back to where we'd come from but closer to shelter as the wind had picked up to 20+knots. A call on the vhf that evening from another boat told us a fishing boat had left and there was space available for us but with dark approaching and a stiff gin already downed we opted for the morning. We left early and arrived to find the fishing boat had returned and had a dinghy alongside making the only available space a sports fishing boat with a shiny hull, lot of curve and slightly put out owners who were somewhat miffed to be asked for permission to tie up to them..or mebbe it was Bee asking would they mind our cat wandering across their decks. As it happened the fishermen were aboard and once they'd moved the dinghy we tied up to them. Officials welcomed us, the fishermen were friendly but not allowed to come aboard us for a drink and the marina, 

Los Morros Marina

Los Morros....In reality it is nothing more than a concrete jetty running north-south. Although it might be a couple of hundred metres long only the outer length of about 50 metres is usable. And because most of the winds come from the east, the only section that anyone uses is the west side. So 3 boats then plus any rafting. We stayed overnight entertaining a French couple on holiday  after informing the Port Authorities we had guests coming.... It had to be cleared first of all! What a bloody nonsense and a real black mark against the state as far as I'm concerned. But with a front coming in and strong northerlies forecast everyone left the following morning to seek better shelter. The local boat went inside the cay we had sheltered off the previous day (offering to guide us in whilst expressing vague doubts about the amount of water inside...) but we chose to head on round to the Bay of Currents. The first part went well but rounding the corner we were met with torrential rain and squalls. By then we'd reefed well down so were wet but not to concerned and although our destination lay across the bay we hugged the coast reducing the size of the waves. Visibility had become poor (but the aroma from the freshly wet earth more than made up for it) as we plugged on and so it was we came across 3 other boats and a collection of dive boats seeking shelter. Conditions had worsened so we joined them rather than push on another 5 miles. One of the boats was our sports fisher from Los Morros plus another Brit and a Swiss and the dive boats were from Maria La Gorda and they had warned the Swiss and Brit that the wind would back to the NW before moving off and as luck would have it we'd stumbled on them. The night was uneventful and, apart from the Swiss, heading north, we all scattered to our destinations. We had hoped to get to our current location but the wind head us and we chose to push on to Juventud. But as the night passed and we'd been pushed further south than had wanted we knew wherever we went was going to be a beat. And so it was, Big, lumpy seas with squally conditions made for a crap night saved only by faithful "Stan" the wind-vane. In the end we headed for our original destination and gradually closed the coast. By now the wind had a more easterly element to it making our intended anchorage a bear-pit of rollers and we followed the coast around until we found shelter from both wind and seas, crept across weed in 14' and settled into a pristine patch of sand topped with crystal clear waters. An hour later a cat came screaming in and anchored. But there is space, the holding is good, at least with a Rocna, as Bee in a fit of curiosity, had confirmed by swimming over it and viewing with satisfaction the anchor buried. This morning she canoed out checking to see how much further we might be able to creep in and perhaps reduce the rolling  we suffered last night.

Cuban Ferro-Cement Fishing Boat

We also spoke briefly to the Sports Fishing boat who had been anchored at a nearby Cape when the Guarda approached and told then they couldn't anchor there because of problems with Mexican drug smugglers and they should move to a nearby cove, La Caloma This cove has a tricky bar across the entrance and faces the east where the wind was coming from and despite the escort from the GF they hit the bar and spent 4 hours getting their boat off without any assistance from the GF other than to VHF call for a small boat with a tiny engine to come out and help them. Despite the GF having the more powerful craft no help was given despite repeated requests. This nonsense the Guarda comes out with can be extremely dangerous. On our first visit to Cuba we were anchored, happily in a, from memory, land-locked lagoon outside Casilda and stupidly rang them to let them know were there. "No we couldn't stay there as it wasn't safe" Safe from what!! We were in 5 metres with a thick mud bottom surrounded by mangrove. We pointed out that the entrance to where they wanted us to go was only 2 metres deep and we drew more...they sent a boat out and dragged us through the mud to safety.....where they charged us $10 a night to stay on a buoy. It is not your safety they are concerned with.

We moved on from there (Cayo Real) on a long motor-sail slog across the bay to get shelter off the coast of Juventud

Wed 16 March

Finally anchored in Ensanada De Barcos on the second attempt. Disappointing as it is much bigger than we anticipated and consequently the shelter is reduced but we're in and likely to stay a few days as the weather turns to stronger easterlies. We came in with a minimum of about 40 cm under the keel but several days of strong E/NE winds reduced depths by some 30 cm so a tight time coming         

Fidel's old prison and smoke from the sugar-cane burning

 Thurs 17 March 
Anchored off Neuva Gerona in the dark - disconcertingly fishermen up to their knees only about 4 boat lengths away!!  so we moved to the next bay round. A bay that boast the remains of a prison that once held Fidel. Despite a blowy night we were comfortable.

 31 March

We moved from the bay to the Cays ready, we hoped, for a sail across the open bay and down to Cayo Rosario. Not to be. With weather forecasts of continuing E/NE and the prospect of more and more beating we opted to return up the coast. Had an easy few days, met up with a Polish/American boat with a damaged forestay and helped them through the reefs - we had a chart they didn't or not in detail. 

Cuban diver offering a monster lobster for trade

We opted to anchor they went on, then called us to say the wind had backed allowing them to almost make Hemingway in one hit. We were lulled and decided to follow. Of course the wind didn't stay backed but headed us and we settled in to another night of beating or nearly so as the wind dropped and we hove to and drifted with the current toward our destination.At first light we were on our way and soon into Hemingway. Now we had arrived in Cuba on Feb 26 and been given a 30 day visa which, by our reckoning took us to March 28.The Guarda had other ideas and as it was Mar 26 assured us we would have to leave or purchase at CUC25 each, an extension. I tried to point out the missing days in Feb meant etc but he wandered off to consult with his boss. He came back and, grudgingly said as we were intending to leave the following day it would be allowed but if for any reason we didn't we would have to have an extension.. A delay whilst the harbourmaster tried to find us a space which became instantly available when we declined power and water supply. Bingo we were in. Tied up and ready to sleep....finally met up with the Polish crew from Jolanta with the damaged forestay, bought a few bottles of rum and left the following morning after a night of impressive percussion music from a nearby bar. Of course we had been inspected on our arrival yesterday, the officials examining carefully the same documents that they personally had written up some 28 days previously. They'd sealed our bag of decrepit flares and then when we booked out of Cuba 23 hours later the docs were checked, fresh ones written up, carbon paper everywhere - is this the last known user of the stuff? - and the flares unsealed. And as ever on our visits they never have any glue to attach the all important stamps they issue to make your(their) docs official. If you want to make a big hit with Cuban officials bring a supply of Pritt Sticks! We gave them a small pot of wood glue -the type that expands on contact with air!

So we were on our way and made good progress during the day eventually picking up the Gulf Stream and though the winds were rarely above 15 knots our speeds were easily 6.5 knots and later up to 8.5 knots. By late afternoon the wind had backed and we were soon pointing toward Key West rather than our desired direction and it was in this state that a USCG plane, about 15 mile from the Cuban coast, buzzed us twice no doubt radioing back to base of a yacht heading for KW. Soon after this we were joined by 2 birds; one a tiny red breasted thing and the other a racing pigeon complete with leg ring.....By some stroke of luck Toots didn't molest or destroy either of them and both survived the night. We fed them, the pigeon repaid us by shitting everywhere and in the morning the red bird left. Percy the pidg knew it was onto a good thing and resisted all attempts to move it along. It swallowed copious amounts of bread/milk/grain mush depositing equally amounts as payment. During the night the wind veered and we picked up our course making rapid progress toward the end of the Keys. 

Percy, at home

The heat was oppressive and we weren't surprised when we picked up the NOAA weather warning of a severe thunderstorm for the area. Perhaps it'll pass ahead we wondered but as we dumped sail and got ready for the 40 knot gusts they were warning of the thing was on us and, with the wind backing to the north, we hove to for the night and sheltered below. Including Percy who sat in Toots day cabin out of the wind and spray. Well, we don't think the gusts were anything like 40knots and certainly a northerly wind in the GS would quickly let you know so although it was a tad lumpy and Bee on one of her forays up top announced the wind was strong enough to hinder breathing but it was ok and the following morning we resumed our progress north. Sure enough the USCG buzzed us again as we made slow progress in the light winds. I say slow but the current kept speeds above 4 or 5 even though our sailing speed rarely came above 2 or so.. By nightfall we were off Lake Worth inlet and slid in against the last of the ebb and anchored south of Peanut Island. As luck would have it we were able to pick up an internet signal and able to book in via the 1-800 number. "Did we have any Cuban goods or meat on board" and we answered NO in good faith.....Finishing with the CBP we logged on to discover where Percy had arrived from 'cos he was still with us and showed no sign of leaving.  Seems the letters FCC on the leg-band were the clue and we'd brought a Cuban bird with us......but as luck would have it when we got up the following day he'd legged it.

'course you still need to present yer docs to the CBP and we declined the offer of a $15 dock whilst we did so (we didn't have that much money on us) and motored up to Lake Worth anchorage, took the dinghy and bikes ashore and rode 4 miles in the heat of the day. An hour later we had our 6 month visa and we're good to go.

Gay Boys on a Gaffer............

A curious title and caused by a nearby sailor we rowed across to help unravel his snarled up anchor chains. Through out the time he insisted on calling us "guys" and as we rowed away implored us "Gentlemen" to let him buy us a beer...! No doubt his confusion was assisted by the fact that it was Bee who leapt onto the deck and wrestled with his anchor rode...perhaps the fact that we were both wearing pink crocs helped. Whatever we got the job done. But it isn't the first time that males have made assumptions based on the colour of my crocs and Bee's short hair; a fact that may have many of our gay friends cheering. Oddly enough it is males who are threatened by the pink croc; women have smiled or grinned and declared "they loved them" as they pass me in the street or store!

We're in Key West, the end of the driveable USA, having got down from Beaufort to here in 2 jumps. We spent a day in Beaufort, moving across to the free dock for the day as the rain pelted down. The following day we were startled to hear Blackthorn hailing us on the vhf and delayed our departure to say one more final goodbye after a quick wander around town together. We left about 4 thinking we would head for an anchorage some 10 miles down river but ended up motoring on and out to sea. We seemed to spend the night gybing as the wind shifted around and we wanted to stay close in. That night was the blackest we've known for a long time as sea and sky merged, no lights or stars were visible and the seas became lumpier. So lumpy that the following morning as I went to shift the, just boiled, coffee pot I inadvertently tipped half the contents over my left hand. "Oh Dear" I said as it rapidly blistered and went red, despite immediately running it under cold water.

Bee wrapped it in cling film and we plugged on. By Friday, the following day, it was more painful and we opted to stop at Fort Pierce for a break. A good choice as the anchorage is well protected from the north and not far from the entrance. Booked in via Skype - moving across State lines in the US requires foreign boats to report their position. Most states seem happy with letting them know you have arrived and don't require anything further - not so Florida which is a law unto itself and, at this stage of our feelings, should be avoided like the plague. Perhaps more on it later.
Sat 12 Feb and back out to sea; weather getting warmer, frigate birds could be seen as the water took on a pale green hue!! We must be getting south.... By Fort Lauderdale that evening our speed began to drop as the effect of the Gulf Stream (some 15 miles to the east of us) could be felt. Crossing the sea lanes of Ft L. and Miami is an interesting experience as, particularly at Miami, it seemed the ships were lining up like aircraft approaching Heathrow. By this time the current had changed direction a little and was forcing us toward the shore and the USCG were issuing Hazardous Seas warnings on the VHF as the northerly wind would run against the North going GS....we listened with some alarm as a tanker informed the CG that they would not be anchoring in the designated area because of the impending weather but cruise at slow speed in circles until the pilot was able to board them. Bee wisely argued against stopping in Miami and we left the brightly lit coast  

and began to follow the line of marks that mark the reef that separates the ocean from Hawk Channel. Cruise ships followed us, though further out to sea, as we hugged the reef line. By morning we were approaching the gap we'd opted to run through and into the Hawk. For some time now we'd been seeing Portuguese Man O' War drifting around and soon these numbers became an armada as we sailed through hundreds, if not thousands, of the things. Approaching Key West we turned into the wind and found another cruise liner moving rapidly up the channel toward us as it approached its berth. We beat, with the help of the engine, outside the channel, and watched amazed as this huge ship slid slowly by us and berthed, without fuss, ahead of another liner. No tugs involved either. And then we were anchored. Aaagh Key West how could we have forgotten the anchorage? Where centre console speed boats hurtle through the anchorage leaving wakes that throw small boats about and rowing into the shore, some half a mile away, is to take your life in your hands. Power craft skippers, taking punters out to and back from para-gliding, seemingly intent on looking cool but certainly not looking where they are going are bloody dangerous...surely if engine size was matched to IQ these folks would struggle to rate 2.5hp.

A trip down to KW, principally to meet up with friends from Belfast that, for as yet unknown reasons, didn't work out and we never actually met up. Apart from the sadness of it all we're now in a place we don't want to be, at the wrong side of the wind and currents. Well it ain't meant to be an easy life despite the magazines glossy photos and stories!!

KW is a curious place, a town populated by folks from everywhere else serving folks from everywhere else. Shady streets with wonderful looking colonial houses behind a tacky waterfront and a dockside crammed with boats of every size touting for business. Fewer schooners this year than we've seen before but no shortage of tourists; either arriving by plane or by the 5 cruise ships that have docked and left in the time we've been here. And in one of those great American contradictions given the Cuban Embargo that must be now in its 50th year; that American sailors if found to have spent money in Cuba may have their assets confiscated and so most are scared of entering the territorial waters and where 3 years ago the Customs and Border folks in this sweet little town threatened us because we had come from Cuba; well many of the streets have stores and kiosks proudly displaying and selling Cuban Cigars and Goods. Do As I Say Not As I DO.

And in one of those bizarre things that link us and Blackthorn together we get an email from Jac saying that she too had spilt boiling water over her left arm and suffered large burns.

Ode to a remarkable woman...

It's been a fun-filled week or so since we left, some of it boring, some a little too exciting/frustrating. We had a cold 50 mile run through icy winds and snow to end up in a sheltered anchorage for a night and left early for Oriental the following morning. Bowling along a canal with the main up, we were verbally hauled over by the USCG for a safety check......why they seem mystified at our manoeuvres as we had to get the main down, turn and get alongside in a restricted space always bemuses us but there it is. They ran through the usual, wanting to see life-jackets, pointing out that the jackets we have on board do not have USCG approval rating...why should they we wonder when they're perfectly acceptable in Europe but heh.. Inspection completed we went to head off and found, moments after the bow line had been released, that we had no forward gear and the bow began to swing out into the current. Luckily the safety checker was stood there with a line in his hand and we were soon back alongside. Negotiations began on how long we would be allowed to stay and we managed a grudging 45 minutes whilst we found out what the problem was. Initially we thought it was gearbox but as the problem alternated between no forward but reverse and vice versa it had to be something to do with the linkage. And so it was - a locking nut had worked loose allowing the linkage to revolve. So a lucky escape really as had we lost reverse when coming onto the dock we'd have speared the other yacht who was hauled over with us.

Onto Oriental and I had doubts about the depth of the entrance. Calls to fishing boats brought no response but a passing cat. informed us the channel was shallow and he’d gone aground drawing 6’ some years back.....however we could see fishing boats moving slowly in so felt comforted. And so we would have been had I not stupidly decided I should leave the green buoy to starboard which is a complete reversal of how it works over here....with the cats warning of shallow depths I wasn’t too alarmed when the depths began to fall but when we hit the mud my feelings changed!! We began the process of extracting ourselves but an hour later had got no where...a passing fishing boat refused to assist as his 13’5’ restricted his ability to change direction in the channel and instead he called TowboatsUS. The bottom line for them was they would charge $13 per foot +$160 per hour or roughly $600 to get us off. We carried on extracting ourselves....Bee has an indescribable amount of tenacity and kept up a constant barrage of energy and encouragement and eventually we were off...only to go aground again as we sort to get back into the channel. I despaired, Bee kept us going and off we came and into the anchorage for a nights rest. Filling up with fuel the following morning we met a guy who we hadn’t seen for several years who happened to be having a coffee before returning to his new boat to continue the re-fit. Timing is a funny thing.

The next long section took us through a couple of known shallows and a military firing range. We got through the shallows with no problem, but the approach to the range was dominated by gunfire. The CG weren’t that helpful so we went on, knowing that if they were firing we’d be turned back and need to retrace to a poorly sheltered anchorage with the forecasted blow for the next day. But the firing had no warning lights or patrol boats and we were through and relaxed as we approached our anchorage for the night. The day was calm, and about 4pm, turning too soon after our mark, we went heavily aground! By heavily I mean a subsequent check, whilst waiting for the tide to return, showed a mere 5’ amidships where we need about 7’....so well into the soft mud. Quick calcs. showed we wouldn’t be able to do much before 8 and more probably 9pm. But as the hours passed and no returning flow of water could be seen we began to get concerned....the weather began to deteriorate; rain and increasing wind. I call the USCG to check the next high water and explain the situation. Beyond asking whether we had Salvage Insurance!!!!!!, had enough food and water for the night and a anchor they could offer nothing. We lit the fire to keep us warm in the impending rain and set to work to extract Hannah. A backed stays’l kept the bow pulling away from the bank and, with the helm hard over, the boom well over to port to tilt us, a raising tide and some serious use of power we came off. By now the tide is flooding in, the rain and wind are increasing and it is DARK. We’re in a channel about 45 metres wide and in the confusion of coming off, looking for the next mark we hit the bank on the other side. But with our stern into the current and the wind astern it can only be a matter of time before we’re off. As I’m reporting in to the CG Bee yells we’re off. We are but going sideways toward the green marker. Desperately I accelerate , pushing the tiller hard over to bring the bow into deeper water and facing the tide...we hit the bank again but this time all the shallow is to our right. The rain and wind continue, the tide has picked up speed and we’re cold. But luck is with us and we manage to get off a third time and accelerate slowly into the channel...TOO slowly and I find we’re going backwards toward the bank we’ve just got off.AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH I cannot believe the mess I’ve got us into but we remain clear and slowly move toward the channel entrance. But the tide pushes us sideways rapidly and the depth drops rapidly. We reverse hard and a combination of prop-walk and the tide spins us so that we’re now facing back toward the green marker. We continue to try and reverse but now away from the damned marker, somehow I need to get Hannah turned and facing both wind and tide. And it’s at that point, when we hit stern on, my spirits sink and I doubt we’ll be able to get off again. We have a very heavy, deep full keeled boat with a comparatively small engine and we’re in a bad situation. Not particularly dangerous as it’s all mud but we’ve already heard a local towboatUS hailing us over the radio and the costs will be prohibitive. I suggest to Bee we might have to lose a significant amount of money to get us out of the mess.”Before we think about that” she says “let’s have one more go” Despite knowing the chances of it working are slight, that though the tide is going to lift us that same tide and wind combination being beam onto us is likely to push us further onto the bank, I agree. I gun the engine harder as Bee, sat on the boom, screams "we’re moving"!!! And slowly, so so slowly we began to come round into the stream and now, at all costs, we had to get Hannah round and facing both weather and current. Well we did and inched  toward a marker, selected a spot that would, we hoped, keep us out of the channel and dropped the hook, some 8 hours after we’d first hit the mud. As we were so close to the channel we stayed up all night to keep a lookout for barges that run and with the fire running all evening we were able to dry off and warm up.

Spent the next day recovering, sheltering from a blow and then moved on down to meet up with R&J. Now we’re in Southport awaiting a wind shift to take us outside and down the coast toward Charlestown.

So there it is, a couple of inexcusable, fundamental errors on my behalf and a determination not to be beaten on Bee’s enabled us to save ourselves. I’m a lucky man.

Day One

We're on our way at last. The long awaited post arrived yesterday and we were able to say our goodbyes to Cary, Linda and Joe and head out for the start of the ICW. It runs from here down to the Keys, about 1200 miles and lets us get south of the the Capes that protrude from this coast before having to head out to sea. The drawback of course is that it, for the most part, is a long slog under engine. But for the moment that is ok...although we've only done about 10 miles today! The 12oo miles are statute (for some reason) whilst we always work in sea miles...academia as far as those reading are concerned. And we're heading off shore after a couple of hundred anyway.

So an OK day marred only by a bridge keeper with attitude who, as we hadn't contacted her by radio but had gilled around in front of the bridge for 35 minutes as the small tug was doing, decided to teach us a lesson by closing the bridge as we steamed towards it some 150' behind the tug.....then proceeded to rant at us over the radio about calling her first. Writing it out makes me feel it to be no big deal but seeing those drawbridges descend and knowing I had insufficient room and power to stop myself before they closed was not a life inspiring moment and her claim that she didn't see us did nothing to appease my bad mood. But we got through the remainder, found the 24 hour free dock, went for a walk with Toots, downed a G&T, some food and a with warming fire the balance of life is restored. I think.

A cloud of sadness descends...

When we first arrived in the US in April 2004 we were met, on the jetty, by a stranger who asked us about where we’d come from etc. Recognising we were busy sorting out our lines in the heat of Florida he said he’d come back. He did so about 20 minutes later with two ice cold beers. The reason I mention this is that we have often felt that Pete Barton, the beer provider, represented much of how we feel about America and its citizens. Incredibly kind, open and generous, more so than any group of people we have met on our travels. Individually they will go out of their way for you, welcome you to their homes and family and mean it sincerely when they say “Welcome to America” Many of the closest friends we have come from the US. And yet with the news this week-end of the shooting in Arizona a feeling of gloom and depression has settled on Hannah. A nation obsessed with weapons; a nation that seems to have become so angry that reasoned debate is no longer possible. A nation that can seriously consider Sarah Palin as a Presidential candidate; the same Sarah Palin who thought it acceptable to publish on her Facebook page, gun-sight images targeting 20 Democrats, apparently with the slogan “Don’t retreat, Reload”....of a ten year old boy from Ohio who, despite having serious behavioural problems with school, was allowed by law to keep, in his bedroom, weapons and ammunition. ...one of which he used to fatally shoot his mother through the head because she wanted him to bring in the firewood from outside. Which brings me back to the 22 year old from Arizona, who despite having, apparently, known mental health problems, was able to own and use a semi-automatic pistol and is believed to have slaughtered 6 people and injured a further 13. Or a man called Jesse Kelly who ran a campaign against Gabriella Giffords (the shot Arizona Congresswoman) inviting supporters to fire a gun with him. It read: “Get on Target for Victory in November. Help remove Gabrielle Giffords from office. Shoot a fully automatic M16 with Jesse Kelly."

Is it me?

and then we came across this article which says more  about the state of the US

...where hate rules at the ballot box, this tragedy has been coming for a long time

The heating saga draws to an end...

Well the merry crew of Blackthorn http://blackthornpearltravels.blogspot.com/have departed, leaving us huddled on the jetty shivering. We're soon to follow as this morning we finished repairing the saloon heating. Not the wonderful Morso stove I hasten to add but the Austin Mini car heater we use when we're running the engine. Long time followers may remember the fitting broke some months back but now all is well. All the connections are tight, water flows and there are no air locks so a result. Hopefully the quality of the heat will improve as, at the moment, we could ride bare arse to Russia on the heater and still not get burnt.

Main horse blues

As we hoist or lower the main, tack or do anything that takes the wind pressure off the main, the main sheet block attached to the horse would slam back and forth against the stops. Toots hated it, drove me spare and I hadn't found anything suitable that could cope with the battering. But wandering around a schooner up in the Vineyard I saw a neat solution....

a hole drilled out of the centre of an ice-hockey puck to match the diameter of the horse, then split on one side  and a hole drilled through the edge to take a bolt and the whole thing forced onto the horse. Bolt screwed though and yer in business.......................not sure how easy ice-hockey pucks are to come by in most countries but it works very well. 

Aah the joys of a gaffer.

So Happy New Year to all from MBT

Christmas Day Outing

So about 3 weeks ago Bee found a woman round the corner with a kayak to sell....true it was in a poor state but at $35 we thought it was a steal. Well, with a couple of coats of paint of opposite colours the "Mooyak" was born. Toots took to it in style and went aboard for a paddle around  Hannah...the walk along the foredeck was unplanned and we'd forgotten to put anti-slip on but the disaster never happened. She may not be so lucky next time. 

The journey south begins

Months have passed since we left Shelburne and many of the miles sailed are so familiar to both Hannah, her crew and browsers of these pages. Waiting for weather windows, returning to Belfast etc and for that reason I'll probably condense much of the journey. We did return to Belfast, had a great time, met up with all our friends  and were fortunate enough to be tied up across the jetty  from Phil and Teri AND Steve and Susan thanks to Kathy, the Harbour Master. Time spent in chatting, future plans and visits to S&S house, a sensible 16'x14' they've been steadily building over the last few months. 

We also scrubbed off one fine, cold Maine morning as the sea smoke rose and the early risers gathered to chat.But time passed  quickly and we needed to getting south before it got too late and so we set out with Robin and Jac. With a fair forecast we opted to head straight for P'town and arrived the following evening, leaving the following morning for a long beat down to the canal entrance. Although we had a favourable tide going through the 7 mile canal, the western end, being more open to the wind ,saw us both reduced to a couple of knots as a chop built up. 

 That night we anchored in Marion and the following day, courtesy the Harbour Master we picked up a couple of mooring buoys as he remembered us from our last visit.

With the winds forecast to blow from the west for a while we headed south across Buzzards Bay toward Martha's Vineyard for a first time visit. Lumpy sea and a stiff breeze made spotting the entrance buoy into Woods Hole difficult and despite the seeming array of electronics we now have, the tension slips from my shoulders when I hear Bee say, as she always does in the end,  “Got it”  as she found the buoy. Nothing like a visual! That night we anchored in a sheltered bay before going through Woods Hole and onto MV itself. Woods Hole is a narrow passage between islands where the current is fast, rocks and shallows lie either side of the channel and the local ferries take no prisoners. That said we still feel that the Letete Passage Narrows, in the Passamaquady Bay, is top of the list for broiling water!

Martha's Vineyard is an interesting place, tad too obsessed with wooden boats for our tastes but we met up with Dennis, a guy we'd met in the Caribbean a few years back. He'd got the HM to agree to us using mooring buoys in the harbour and Julie, his wife, took time out to show us the island so all in all we had a good time. Like us, Dennis was heading south though in his case he was heading direct and we were coastal hopping. Eventually the forecast eased a little and gave us enough of a window to head off. Not for long though as the wind began to fade as we approached the end of the sound. Carry on or stop...as ever once the decision had been taken to stop at Block Island (some 4 hours away) we found the wind gradually picking up. But being so close to an anchorage, the possibility of a drink and warm bed for the night had us pressing on when common sense suggested we'd be much better heading on to New York. But sometimes we need to learn the hard way (still) and it wasn't until we'd beat up the coast to the harbour entrance that what we knew all along (lee shore, narrow entrance, unlit buoys etc!) brought us to our senses and we turned away from the nights shelter and headed out to sea. What followed was a night, albeit cold, of wonderful sailing as we sped along close to the south shore of Long Island getting the benefits a good breeze but little if any wave action. 

The following evening we entered New York with light airs but a  glorious sunset and settled behind Coney Island for a few days rest. The sail down had left me with a nagging pain in my groin and as Robin had suffered a double hernia in Labrador that was very much on my mind...certainly the symptoms seemed similar. Trussed up(me that is) we set out on the next stage to Cape May for yet another over-nighter. At least where we were the winds were lighter and the waves smaller – the forecast for Georges Bank (much further out to sea) had winds of 45knots and 25' seas!!! Into Cape May, battling a nasty cross current that had us pointing NE but heading NW before letting us slide behind the shelter of the breakwater. The anchorage had 5 or so boats already at anchor and we found a spot amongst them. Over the next few days the wind blew hard and we were thankful to be at anchor and sheltered. Then we were off on the final leg  and before long we were vying for space with naval ships,

hovercraft and sundry fishing boats....and then into Scotts Creek to be met by a smiling Cary and news that a Docs appointment was sorted. A week or so later we heard the awful news of our friend Dennis  and his trip south. Caught in the Gulf Stream by a front that stalled, they were rolled by huge waves. His friend of 30+years was swept over the side and held by the rigging and masts that had been smashed off. Willy was struggling to keep his face clear of the water as Dennis and Amanda, Willy's daughter, tried to clear the rigging. Willy pleaded with them to cut the life-line that was securing him to the boat, reluctantly they did so but, unable to hold onto him in the seas, could only watch as he was swept away. For 3 days they pumped and patched in an effort to keep the boat afloat and then were able to jury-rig a mast  and “sail” south. Took a further 9 days before they were picked up by ship about 200 miles from Bermuda. And then a week or so ago we heard of the murder in Guatemala of a Canadian guy we had met here a couple of years previously... Each of the cases shocked us  enormously and still do.

So after discussing with the surgeon about this hernia I decided to go ahead and have the op. The price  I'd been given seemed to be much the same as having it done privately in the UK (NHS would have possibly meant a long wait as it would probably have been seen as elective rather than urgent) and I dutifully turned up, having paid the surgeon , $500 before hand. At the hospital I went through to reception but before answering any questions I wanted to know that the info I'd been given on pricing was accurate as I didn't want any financial shocks. The price was $2172.50 plus $351 for the anaesthetist. So I get the op and have been recovering for the last few weeks. Luckily Jac & Robin was able to fill me in and the side effects(a little too graphically from Jac); swelling, bruising etc and for the most part it has been fine.  Now of course the hospital has seen fit to add bits to the, as far as we're concerned, settled bill. Interestingly the hospital cost of the operation was $8690 but because we had no insurance  and had to pay up front the cost was reduced to $2172.50 or 25% of the cost! Why? Who knows but it would seem the villains in the US health care are the hospitals and insurance companies. But weeks on from the op. the surgeon seems happy with the progress and is comfortable with us heading off before the entire recovery period is over on the proviso I take it easy so we have set a date for the first week of Jan.

Christmas draws near, the healing continues, temperatures continue to fall though nothing as bad as much of Europe seems to be getting, We have clearance to head off in the first week of January. It'll be a cool trip south..