Now we're cookin'.....and it ain't on gas!

Finally the "primus" we'd ordered arrived and we were able to relax knowing we had an alternative. Jack took a look at some of our old burners off the Taylor's and thought he might be able to make them work by the time we passed through on our way to wherever we're going next. As we were alongside the canal we simply stood the primus on top of the stove and used it knowing we'd construct something to gimbal it over the winter. Of course as the days have progressed and we're further along on the journey Bee has had to become remarkably adept at holding the cooker, manipulating pans and producing meals whilst maintaining her balance. Reminds me of the posters I used to see about Gingers Rogers - did the same thing as Fred Astaire except backwards, in high heels and wearing a long tight dress...

Anyway whilst the new cooker lacks the sophistication of the Taylor's (now there's a sentence I never thought I'd write...) it works well, has a good flame and is easy to use. True the thing is noisier than the Taylor's (and not just because it works) but Bee has baked bread and more on it.

A few days ago we pondered what to do about the non gimballing, having tried using the sink as a base for the cooker and finding the heat rapidly spreading hence the foil everywhere. Far from perfect but we needed a quick solution and at least any spillage could be pumped away with a minimum of cleaning, 

 

 

But we needed something that would allow some flexibility and overnight we thought we might be able to use half the Taylor's by removing the existing burner base. We already knew the primus was too big to fit into the hole so partly dismantled the cooker and slid in our new burner. Jiggling the thing around we managed to get the pan supports to go through existing slots on the hob-top and back into the primus. Filling the thing was a problem until we sacrificed the hose and tap we use when we're making home-brew and suddenly we're in business. Except the primus is much larger than Taylor's and so protrudes out a long way. A length of metal coat 

hanger judiciously bent at varying angles gave us a

way of stopping pans sliding (although not in big seas)  

Yesterday, June 28, we had another go at the Taylor's and even managed to get that working after yet more messing with the pump handle... So now we have two burners which seems a little greedy but no doubt it'll change before we get too far along'

We left the canal after Bee had wandered around the local supermarket toting a 50lb bag of potatoes, said sad Goodbye's to Jack, Glenda and Grant,  stayed a few days at Baddeck, borrowed charts from Henry, had a conversation with Chris Law after he landed in the anchorage in his microlight and taxied over to see us

and left one late afternoon to sail overnight up to Newfoundland. Of course as we left an interesting, to us, boat came in and we hove to to exchange compliments and "where you bound" questions. Elizabeth, the name of the boat, is a Bristol Channel Cutter (BCC) and lovely to look at. Good friends of ours own BCC's in Maine too. We parted company and soon after we were beating our way toward the exit to the Lakes. Not to be of course as the wind died and we began to motor. We pondered on whether we should anchor in Kelly's Cove but opted to go on but as we were swept into the fastest part of the channel, the swells began in earnest and I had a change of heart as the thought of yet another night bouncing around in lumpy seas with no wind seems a poor second choice to being anchored with a warm fire and a stiff drink in our hands. Kelly's Cove it was then. One of our favourites in the Bras D'or as it happens. 

We left around 9 the following morning, had a lumpy exit (serves me right) and began a slow plod north. Soon after Bee spotted Elizabeth exiting the Lakes and before long they'd caught up with us, chatted and headed north quickly.....

As night drew nearer we opted to motor to help get us out of the Cabot Strait as quickly as possible - not a place to be when things get hairy as the forecast suggested it might do in a day or so. By 2am the wind had picked up and the self-steerer was working. By 8 that night we were drifting again but by Sunday the winds had picked up and the rains were coming down but we were moving up the coast. Yippee...!! By night all had deserted us, apart from the fog and with silence around us we dropped the sails, lashed the tiller and went to bed. Well we did keep a bit of a watch but a warm bed is difficult to prise yerself from on a cold, wet foggy night. By morning nothing had changed other than the batteries needed charging so we motored on and on and eventually made it to Neddy Harbour, on the edge of the Gros Morne National Park, where we still are.

 

Motoring, for us, is never an easy option. Apart from the cost of fuel which is always a consideration we REALLY HATE MOTORING AT NIGHT! We don't have an auto-pilot so we have to hand steer and things are never that desperate that we'd want to be up all night steering and listen to an engine droning on. So we normally drift around, one sleeping, one on watch. Actually by setting the anchor alarm you can determine how far you want to be pushed before you do something about it and the quiet, once the main, is dropped is blissful.

All this has taken its toll on us of course - to such an extent we're now having to drink this..!!?? Any ideas what it might be?

Zen and the art of kerosene cookers...

Well we made it. Not a journey or a storm but 6 days of living on crisps(chips) and wine as we struggled to make sense of the cookers refusal to work.

Looks like crisps again!

 We stripped burners, replaced parts, changed fuel, cleaned out the fuel tank, reamed out burners and blew through pipes. One day it worked and then the following day wouldn't. In despair I refused to even look at it and that evening it worked but then failed yet again. We wrote to the manufacturer's, Taylor's, Annie Hill and anyone else we knew used them. All but Taylor's replied with various suggestions. On the day the cooker worked Bee cooked a meal and a loaf of bread and that evening we headed off from our friends Steve and Marilyn for Cape Breton with a promising forecast which, like the cooker, failed that evening and 18 hours and 50 miles later we slipped into Halifax to see what we could do. As we'd arrived in daylight we used the remainder of the day to re-do everything we had done before and the care with which we reassembled the thing meant we were bound to be successful. ...and were this a Hollywood movie we would have been. But it ain't and we weren't and we were left wondering how much further we would be able to go on this trip. Bizarrely we found the pump handle mysteriously rising by itself and, as Annie had said about a valve located in the tank somewhere, the following morning I turned to Nigel Calder's BoatOwners Manual and read through the section on kero cookers. Well the combination of Bee spotting the pump handle, Annie's prompt and Calder's writing had me looking at the valve on the pump, replacing it and the cooker came to life. And then died again. But a couple of sharp wraps with a blunt instrument soon cleared the carbon and a flame roared into life! Bee who had gone ashore by kayak returned to find the bread she had kneaded yesterday baking on the cooker. Such a feeling of relief but whilst we may well continue with the cooker, despite my harsh words, were still going down the back up road of a stand alone kero cooker.

That afternoon we left Halifax for a fast sail to St Peter's Canal. The forecast was good but...ah why do we do it? Why do we lay such store on what someone tells us the weather is going to be when our own experience tells us that somehow between the words leaving the forecasters mouth and reaching the listeners ears it all goes pear-shaped? True we left with a good wind but as the evening arrived the wind died.

The forecasted 15-20 knot winds struggled to get above 5 knots, it was slow but the first night out we managed to keep the self-steerer to keep us moving. The second day proved a slow one too and the second night the wind almost disappeared completely. The current had been against us the whole way, frequently above 1 knot, so we were covering perhaps 9 miles in 4 hours... That night we lit the cooker to get some heat into the boat after I had screwed up setting the clock for my watch and slept for 90 minutes leaving Bee to steer in the cold. She needed a hot water bottle and a strong coffee to get  her warm again. Oddly enough she didn't take to my rum laced coffee.

By daylight we had a little more wind and slowly we crept along the southern coastline of Nova Scotia, round Canso and up toward Cape Breton. As we cleared the last headland the wind shifted to the north and we had a 6 mile beat to finish. The beat was probably the most enjoyable part of the trip, bright sunshine, sparkling water and interesting water to get through. A converted fishing boat passed us heading in toward the canal and we met them when we eventually made it in. But not before we were both forced to strip off our thermal union suits and multi-layered tops to t-shirts and shorts as the temperature rose dramatically. Boy was it warm! The little beach that sits outside the canal had families bathing and everyone seemed cheerful....seems the previous 37 days had been rainy or foggy and cold.

Through the canal and we tied up at the far end, opposite Jack and Glenda's house and responded happily to their shout of "come over for a cold beer"

Toots loves this stop-over with it's nearby long grass and reed beds and few cars to bother her. When we returned several  hours later from our visit she was, unusually, no where to be seen and didn't respond to shouts and whistles for sometime but strolled out from wherever she'd been to peer expectantly at her food bowl.

We'd spent a little of our time up at Steve and Marilyn's helping out in the garden. That is Bee helped out and I'd write up the blog.

Me and Steve gardening....

After 30 years of living aboard their boat they've bought this little place and are coming to terms with novelty of land based living. They can't get used to having a freezer or getting dirty and being able to take a shower. But the bit they really love is not having to walk down a jetty burdened  with groceries, arms aching and then having to load it all into the dinghy and get out to the boat and then get it out of the dinghy and onto the boat. Frequently in the rain. I sometimes find myself in a house stood at the kitchen sink, my right foot tapping up and down. Not in response to some silent tune playing through my head but because the Pavlovian reaction to wanting water to come out of the tap is to pump it with a foot pump.

And this is just because we saw it and thought ?

Yup that's a scooter on the back of that boat..

Lunenburg at last

Been a while since we posted and much has happened since we left Cary and Portsmouth behind. We set out for Lunenburg, Nova Scotia with a favourable wind and made good progress the first day. But, as ever, it seems predictions and actualities are far apart and the wind eased and progress slowed. After 3 days we were closing the coast of Long Island as the forecast was for stiff easterlies....progress was slow but steady around 3 knots as we were passed by yet another 60 odd foot boat under power. Violent thunderstorms could be seen between us and New York but we were to far east to get wet or fried but we did have Queen Mary 2 pass within a mile of us .

Fog came in and we eventually made our way into Block Island to wait a better slant of wind. We've been meaning to get into here for the last 5 years or so but never made it for various reasons. Good shelter and, at this time of the year, very few boats. A boat we know of but have never actually met came in a few days later and as we were talking to Robin and Jac on Skype we were able to get Andante's (the boat we wanted to talk to and they knew) email. Soon after they came on the vhf to hail us- the wonders of technology. Of which more later he muttered darkly....

We both left the following morning though to slightly different directions. We had a long haul up Buzzards Bay in the inevitable fog, anchored for a few hours to await the tide turn. As we hauled the anchor up the wind was squally and the sky black with rain. No fog but poor visibility as we sailed up the channel and into the canal proper. As we exited the other side with a stiff wind the prospect of a night sail with a beam wind and rolling seas slamming into us overcame me and against Bee's protest we sailed into Provincetown for the night. Which turned into several days as we, again, waited a better slant. But a few more jobs were done, Bee kayaked ashore and we followed the local news as the CG searched for a missing lobster diver. Sadly the body was recovered days later in 56' of water.

But the weather turned and one bright morning at 6am we set off. OK a bit of fog around but the cruise up the coast in sunshine was pleasant as we were passed by the inevitable fast moving yot under power. We cleared Cape Cod, all sand dunes and a few small cabins and set the course for Lunenburg. Sometime around 10 we sailed into the fog and there we stayed. And stayed. The trip across took about 90 hours and we saw nothing until we entered Lunenburg harbour about 300 miles later.Often the vis was about 1/2 mile or less and sometimes it may have been a tad further but mostly it was a wet, cold silent trip. We spoke to the Arcadian - a ferry (I think) that runs between Canada and the US and when we ended the call were surprised to hear from Andante who were about 7 miles from us and moving at 6knots to our 4. I can see the advantages of a roller furling in this situation. Want more sail? Release this line and away you go...whereas we need to take one down, put another one up and then stow the wet one somewhere - usually on deck, hopefully lashed well down. Still we were making our usual steady progress and Stan the steerer was working so no complaints really. Andante were bound for Halifax but in the end pushed onto St Peter's in Cape Breton. Our paths will cross and meet soon we know.

Into Lunenburg for the first time in 6 years and luckily one boat on a mooring who, in response to our hail,  left the movie he, Michael, and his girlfriend, Hannah were watching, leapt into a dinghy and rowed to a dock to take our lines, joined by a couple, Richard and Jo off a huge brigantine, Concordia.  Phone was borrowed, Customs contacted and whilst we settled down to wait our line handlers left for the night. Customs arrived about 2 hours later and conducted the usual thorough interview, particularly about how we fund ourselves..........., whether we had gifts etc etc. Finally by 11.30pm we were cleared in and sleep called.

The following day I wandered off to find out about the jetty we were on and returned to find Hannah and her mum, Laurel on board . Hannah has been at sea on various boats for the last 10 years from the Picton Castle to Maggie B to an Arctic Tug and is only 27!! Amazing woman.  Our next visitors were Steve and Marilyn and Bee treated them to a cup of coffee, the significance of which is about to follow.....

The last time we were in Lunenburg we felt the town was a dying, everything seemed as though it was on its knees but this time around was much better. It has an amazing waterfront, colourful, interesting and unspoilt. No huge marina just a few buoys or you anchor. We really liked the place.

So we left Lunenburg with a cooker that for some reason had decided to stop working. It would light but the flame would die within a few seconds. But we were on our way to see Steve and Marilyn who, after 30 years in a boat, have opted to do a bit of land living. We anchored in a bay close to their home and set about getting the cooker to work. Well it didn't. We have cleaned pipes, cleaned out the tank, stripped the burners and more you don't want to know about. This went on for days and days; meals consisted of crisps and alcohol and dreams were dominated by kerosene fueled antics... One day was taken out as I couldn't bear the thought of yet another day spent messing with the damn thing and we rode off to visit the local sail maker, a really neat woman called Michelle Stevens who, as Bee says, took pity on the old man and gave us a lift back to the boat. See her site here  We also visited a guy who has a Wylo (like Blackthorn) and he'd ditched his Taylor's in favour of a simpler "Primus" cooker system and that's the way we think we're going.. But in the meantime we persevered and persevered and finally last night, Sat 4 June we got it going.. A good flame and we ran it for 3 hours as Bee made a loaf of bread, cooked a meal and we kept an eye on it. Finally we were back in business and emails were sent out to various folks who have been advising us. This morning the roaring sound of a Taylor's cooker was once again back to the silence of the cloister as it refused to work. We know it wasn't a dream 'cos we have a meal and a loaf of bread sitting there. So there you have it - primitive technology still has the ability to beat modern thinking or something. Today we refused to touch it and wrote this up, Bee helped in the garden, we cleaned the prop and changed the fan belt. In an idle moment we thought we'd try the bloody cooker again. It worked.....

It'll be up for sale when you read this.

Confusion

And then we awoke this morning puzzled at the noise the sea was making as it slapped against the float tied off alongside us - (we're working on Hannah of course) only to realise the noise was the sound of the new batch of wine starting to work..... and that's before we start drinking it.

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