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Log #43B A night
entry and the next leg towards Cuba
Written at: Royal Jamaica Yacht Club, Kingston, Jamaica
Jan. 22, 2007
Hi Folks,
We are at anchor off the RJYC waiting for our Raymarine self steering system to
be repaired by the manufacturer in the US. We will probably be here for at least
another week. The people at the yacht club are quite friendly, although it is a
long way from the city. Cuba is looking less likely because of the delays.
This log gets us into and out of St. Croix and onto the next leg of our odyssey
to Cuba, which was short circuited because of heavy weather and a retreat into
the Dominican Republic. We can send E-mail from the yacht club and so will try
to get my logs up to date.
Below are a couple of shots of the following seas; notice Judy with a
Scopolamine patch below her right ear and that she is wearing her safety
harness, although not attached. We do not attach our harnesses while in the
cockpit, only when leaving it at night or in heavy weather.
We hope to do some gunkholing around the mangrove lagoons, coral reefs and
off-lying islets of Kingston Harbour while waiting for the autopilot. We should
be in E-mail access for the week, and would like to hear from you.
All the best,
Aubrey
~~~(\_~~~~
Log #43b A night entry and the next leg towards Cuba
Cabo Rojo, Dominican Republic
Jan. 13, 2007
Judy did a great job of plotting the multiple legs on the C-map and had it
hooked into our GPS for our night entry to Christiansted in St. Croix of the US
Virgin Islands (we had no paper charts of the area.) The full moon didn't rise
until after we were in, and as a result we had a very black night with nothing
but shore and navigation lights to guide us. We could not see the shoreline or
the hilltops of the island. We were totally dependent upon the C-map, GPS, and
our limited mark one eyeballs (our depth sounder is still not working, and we
have no radar). As we rounded the east end of St. Croix down the channel between
it and Buck Island, the wind kept up at 30 knots with1 metre following seas,
causing Veleda to yaw 10 to 20 degrees off our GPS course line. I was steering
using the ship's compass rather than the GPS, and I didn't know how much leeway
we had in the channel. The compass did not have an operational compass light,
and I had on a red LED headlamp which Peter Harris brought us last month, to see
the compass course. Judy was down below at the laptop screen directing me from
the C-map, and calling up the course I should be steering. To make matters
worse, there was a one or two knot tidal current astern of us, setting us down
towards the various buoys, some of which were not lighted.
Past Buck Island there were several alterations to go around a major shoal in
the middle of the harbour. Several times as I was coming up to a green buoy, it
looked as if I would pass it on the wrong side, but Judy told me to stand on
until we were almost on top of it before altering. We hugged the buoys as we
didn't know how much room we had in the channels. It was especially scarey when
the tidal stream carried us below the next buoy and I had to compensate by
steering above the set course.
Once past Buck Island we called the marina just in case anyone was there. No
such luck! However, we got a response call from Avalon V, a Canadian boat we met
down at Hog Island in Grenada. They were at anchor behind Protestant Island, the
far side of the harbour, where we had anticipated going if not to the marina.
They recommended not going to that anchorage as it was quite crowded, and
informed us the fuel dock of the marina was the far side of the marina. Thanks
Avalon V.
As we worked our way cautiously around the last few buoys towards the marina, we
still could not see the docks, or have any idea of how they were laid out. There
were no lights on the docks, but just a black indistinct shoreline which
frightened me to even approach. I saw a couple of sailboats anchored to my port,
outside of the entrance channel and decided to go towards them and if possible
anchor between them. I had no idea of the depths outside of the channel markers,
but thought if they could anchor there, so could we, as we draw only 4½ feet. I
came up to the starboard quarter of the outer boat and dropped the hook. By the
time we settled to a secure anchor, our stern was a few feet out into the
channel, but what the hell, we were secure in Christiansted harbour (17 45.02N,
064 41.96W) after a scarey night time entrance! Thanks Judy and our GPS and
C-map program!
Next morning we dinghied into the fuel dock and informed the marina chandlery of
our situation. They were most helpful checking the emergency department of the
hospital and calling Homeland Security at the airport for us to be able to check
in to US territory. We walked to the Customs and Immigration office a couple of
hundred yards down the harbour where we met with an officer who was very
co-operative. He didn't have the key to the office or the necessary forms with
him as he operated out of the airport office mostly. However he called a cab for
us from his mobile to send Doug and Judy to the emergency clinic at the
hospital, and I would wait with him while a supervisor brought the keys and
forms to be filled out, after which he would drive me to the hospital.
I filled out an entry and a departure form, indicating our next port would be
the Dominican Republic or Cuba. I was reluctant to say Cuba directly as the US
policy is outrageously anti-Cuban. The supervisor indicated if we were going
there directly some other kind of permission would be necessary. I did not
pursue the issue. The forms were completed and I was informed that they were
suitable for a 48 hour period, and if we were there longer to come back for more
paper work. There was no charge for the completion of these forms or any
overtime incurred. I was mildly surprised at this relatively simple efficient
entry formality, as I know airport security for the US involves personal and
baggage searches, and would not have been surprised if they requested a search
of Veleda. The reasonableness of the Homeland Security officers was greatly
appreciated. Thank you.
At the hospital, Doug and Judy, having completed the paper work, were still
waiting for medical attention. We waited from 1100 to 1530 before Doug was seen.
The bandages we put on with Saran Wrap were removed, the scald inspected,
cleaned and re-dressed with Silvadene cream (basically the same as the Flamazine
we had used) and wrapped with gauze bandages.
We were told the burn was bad enough (deep second and possibly third degree)
that he should return to Canada for further treatment. At 1600 on a Saturday
afternoon, no travel agent was open and after a fruitless trip to the airport
where we were unable to make any reservations the cab driver called a 1-800
number and Judy and Doug made arrangements for Doug's flight out next afternoon
(Sunday). We were sad to see Doug go, but further treatment was far more
important.
This was the first serious injury we have had on board during our nine years of
cruising. We are aware that any mis-step could result in a major accident
causing a broken limb, head injury, crushed fingers, burns or scalds, or even a
man overboard situation. This incident has caused us to be that much more
vigilant, and incidentally I have made more instant coffee at sea since Doug's
accident, rather than the more precarious filtered coffee.
We left Monday morning, Jan. 8, in light ENE winds as we sailed across the north
coast of St. Croix, St. Thomas visible 25 miles to the north. These US Virgin
Islands of St. Croix, St. Thomas and St. Johns were purchased by the US from
Denmark in the early 1900's, and here in Christiansted the Danish fort and
buildings with interesting arched facades are still quite evident and
attractive. However we did not want to linger and were headed another 1000 miles
for Cuba, having covered only the first 190 miles so far.
We were headed due west with light stern winds from NE to SE, two metre
following seas. By noon next day we were cruising off the south coast of Puerto
Rico, but in winds so light we motorsailed to give better steerage and to make
more distance, as we still had 875 miles to go. It was a pleasant motor sail
watching the overtaking waves sparkling in the sunlight, occasionally cresting
into frothy white cascades with the sun reflecting on the undersides of the
crests to give a translucent emerald blue glimpse through the remaining crest.
The wavelets were like scattered diamonds across the deep cobalt blue undulating
sea. I never tire of watching the sea in all its beauty, power, and varying
moods. Actually I think "moods" is not an appropriate attribute, as the sea just
... is. In spite of its power, whether unleashed in storms or placid in calms,
the sea bears no malice or kindness, but just ... is. It is up to us frail
humans in our tiny fragile cockleshell vessels to deal with whatever it gives.
 Throughout the second night we continued to sail or motor sail, as we don't like
drifting along on a long passage at only two or three knots. On Judy's middle
watch she had to tap the solenoid on the starter motor in order to get it to
engage. We still have intermittent difficulties in getting it to engage and may
have to try several times before it turns over. I enjoyed the morning watch,
although this far west in the Atlantic Standard time zone, the sun does not come
up until after 0700. Just at the end of my watch I had hooked another fish. It
was a 12 pound Mahi Mahi (variously called Dorado or Dolphin fish depending on
what part of the world you are in). Mmmm. It was a good Sashimi lunch and lasted
for two more delicious meals.
We saw only two ships over the past three days, one merchant ship and a US Coast
Guard frigate. By late afternoon of the 10th, the winds started to increase, a
characteristic we will have to deal with on our return voyage. The pattern is
that the wind is lighter a few hours before dawn, and by noon starts to
increase, reaching its peak in the late afternoon and early evening. This
pattern developed with 15 knot (force 4) winds by midafternoon, force 5 by 1800,
and near gale force 6 and 7 (20 to 35 knots) by 2200, causing us to double reef
the main and furl the genoa to half its area, speeding along on a broad reach at
6.5 knots and up to 10 knots when surfing down the three to four metre
overtaking waves. By dawn next day we were in full gale Force 8 conditions with
30 to 40 knot constant winds.
In my next log, more about this very heavy, frightening, wet sail, and problems
with our Dinghy Tow and our self steering system, causing us to seek shelter
behind Cabo Beata on the southern tip of the Dominican Republic.
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