Written at: Rodney Bay, St. Lucia April 9, 2006

Hi Folks,

We are here in St Lucia, having come down from Antigua to Guadeloupe, The Saintes, Dominica, and Martinique. I hope to spend a few days here in St. Lucia taking it easy and getting caught up on my logs. We are considering a trip back to Canada in late May to see family, and will leave Veleda in Trinidad for a few weeks. I will let you know the specific dates as soon as we have our flights finalized.

All is well with us and Veleda. The sailing down here is great. I have trouble leaving the engine on long enough between destinations to charge the batteries as the winds are so good we don't need the engine once clear of land.

All the best,

Aubrey



Log #40b Antigua to Barbuda


We spent a month in Antigua and Barbuda, mostly in English Harbour, Falmouth, and few other anchorages on both islands. Because of the predominant easterly trade winds, it is easier sailing up and down the sheltered west coasts, as to go east is often to go into heavy winds and waves. One day we decided to go from English Harbour on the south coast around to Nonsuch Bay and Green Harbour on the east coast for a few days, a trip of only about 10 miles. Upon exiting English Harbour we were heading into 10 knot winds but two metre swells causing us to pound quite heavily, and only make good about 3 knots. Judy was feeling uncomfortable and so after only 1.7 miles we turned around and headed back to English Harbour. We didn't need two or three hours of pounding into a head sea if we didn't have to. It was a pity as we have heard nice things about those harbours, but getting there on this occasion was too heavy a trip.

We did have a successful trip around the west side of Antigua up to Barbuda for a few days. The first day we motor-sailed 14 miles around to Five Island Harbour on the west coast of Antigua, a large bay south of St. John's. As we entered the harbour, the winds increased from force 3 (up to 10 knots) to a strong force 6, howling down the bay. We anchored off the secluded north shore abeam of a derelict windmill base. There are many of these towers scattered around Antigua, as they were in use for the now-defunct sugarcane plantations 150 to 250 years ago. The dense bush and the mangrove fringed shoreline made it hard to believe there was a thriving plantation here at one time.

Even though it was grey and heavily overcast, we dinghied along the shoreline and a few hundred metres up a brackish stream into a silent lagoon overhung by mangroves, scrub brush, and the occasional palm tree sticking its slender frond-bedecked trunk above the low tree line. It reminded me of some of the bayous in the southern U.S. (minus the Spanish moss hanging from the stark cypress trees). We saw little bird life in this estuary, but upon exiting we went across the bay to motor around Maiden Island in the shallower inner east end of the bay to see a pelican rookery. This is a private island (one of the five islands of Five Islands Harbour), but no one was in residence in the small cottage on top of the tree clad hill. The rookery was mostly on the northwest side with hundreds of pelicans nesting, hovering, diving for fish, or just standing on rocks or branches watching us putter slowly past. These pelicans have smaller heads, beaks, gullets, and necks in contrast to the larger birds found in the Florida Keys.

Next day it continued to be grey and rainy with a 35 knot wind blowing down the bay. We decided to stay put. In the afternoon a Canadian charter boat, Silent Partner II, came in and anchored a few hundred metres up the bay from us. We called them on VHF and had a nice chat.

The third day the weather cleared, and we had a good sail most of the 35 miles up to Barbuda in brisk east winds from force 3 to 6. The winds worked up to a strong force 6 (25 knots) causing us to furl 50% of the genoa. We still had the main double reefed from our crossing, and we will probably sail this way most of our time here in the trades. The heavy seas caused a bolt on our DinghyTow support clip to fracture, releasing the starboard arm, causing Sprite to waggle behind supported by only the port arm. We hooked the empty bracket with a boat hook and passed a line through it, securing this to our starboard quarter. This worked quite well until we anchored four hours later, when we were able to fix it with new bolts. This is only the second time the dinghy has detached itself from the arms in ten years of heavy use. If by accident it was to completely release itself from both arms, it would just swing around and tow itself on the painter which is always cleated to Veleda. No real problem and we are still happy with the convenience of the DinghyTow for easy rapid access to Sprite each time we anchor.

A few minutes after this incident, I had a strike on my fishing line. I noticed a thrashing around as I was hauling it in, hoping my catch wouldn't shake the hook out of its mouth. It didn't. When I hauled it on board the head was there, but the body had been hacked off by some larger predator as I was hauling it in. Judging from the size of the head, the one that took it must have been much bigger. Two hours later I had another strike, and this time was successful in bringing in the whole fish, a delicious tuna, about 28 inches and weighing about 12 pounds.

Barbuda is a low coral island fringed with pink sandy beaches. There are a couple of bays between shoals on the southeast corner that are more popular anchorages, but it would have necessitated us going to windward to reach them. In addition, since our main interest in the island was to go to the frigate bird colony, this location would have required an expensive $50.00 (US) taxi ride to the north end lagoon where we would have to pay another $40.00 (US) fee to the guide to take us out. Instead we anchored off Low Bay (17 38.98N, 061 51.39W), a wide exposed bay up the lee of the west coast, facing miles of pink sandy beach

We phoned a local guide to meet ashore on the lagoon side to take us up to the bird sanctuary. Landing the dinghy was tricky because of the surge on the shallow sandy beach. We had to go in on a light wave, or just behind it, and quickly step out once grounded to haul the dinghy up before the next surge came in to swamp us. That's why in the picture, Sprite has been rotated to have its bow facing the water so it won't get swamped when we launch it.

We were fortunate as this was the mating season for the frigate birds, and there was considerable activity with hundreds of these giant graceful gliding aviators. These birds have wingspans up to 6 feet (245 cm), and glide hundreds of miles out to sea, plucking fish from the surface or harassing other birds until they drop their catch (thus the name "frigate" or "Man-of-war" birds). They have the greatest wingspan in proportion to their weight of any bird, but at the expense of the development of their legs. As such if they land on the water or are submerged, they cannot take off. We saw and heard the display rituals of the male who inflates the bright red pouch at its throat, then with its beak beats on it with a hollow drumming sound. The area sounded like a bongo drumming school for children, and the mangrove scrub and greenery was polka-dotted with the pompous ballooning of pouches. These are graceful birds as they glide the updrafts, their arched wings and forked tails flaring out to take advantage of every whisper of air, and to maximize the aerodynamic characteristics of their species. It was well worth the $40.00 US for the two of us to have the privilege of seeing this, one of the largest colonies of frigate birds in the world, during their mating season.

We walked the sand beach for a bit before taking Sprite back out to Veleda. The water was cloudy from the disturbed sand churned up by the incoming surge. Even a couple of hundred yards out where Veleda was anchored, the visibility was less than six inches (15 cm). When Judy snorkeled down to check the anchor, she could not see it, although she had her hand on it and felt that it seemed to be set into some coral. In the morning when we came to raise the anchor, it was really heavy. We finally hoisted it to the surface to find it was hooked onto an old coral-covered ship's anchor! (See attached picture) It would have made a great lawn trophy, but we have no lawn, and no place to stow it on board, and I think there are laws about taking coral or archeological finds So we passed a line around the fluke of the ship's anchor, lowered ours free of it, and dropped the ship's anchor back into the sea. We then coasted down the beach strip, inside the offshore shoals, and back down to Antigua.
 

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