June 2, 2010 - Scaredycat

For the past few weeks, really, ever since we returned to the Caribbean, I've been banging out mundane blog posts about anchorages and sailing and cocktails. I wrote the post about completing our circumnavigation several times, but scrapped every draft that dealt with anything other than the barest facts. I even roped my friend Deb into writing a few posts for me. All because I didn't want to address the issues surrounding the end of our adventure. The fact is that I'm scared and I didn't want to talk about it.

All the time people ask us what the scariest moment of the trip has been. It is the number one question we get (followed closely by "do you carry guns" and "what about pirates? - I'm sensing a theme here). I always found people's fear-based reactions to our adventure interesting, but I couldn't relate. Now, now I get it.

I'm filled with anxiety about the end of our adventure. I'm more scared of going home and trying to resume some semblance of a normal life than I have ever been about any leg of this trip.

Even before we left Boston four years ago I was concerned about how we would deal with our re-entry to the civilized world. I expected (no, hoped) that sailing around the world would change us, but I was apprehensive about how those changes would effect us when we tried to fit back in with a land-based lifestyle. Would we be square pegs trying to wedge ourselves into round holes?

Before we set off I posted a message on a cruising bulletin board soliciting others' experiences with moving back ashore. Back then my questions focused on how our potential future employers would view us. Would we become damaged goods by taking ourselves out of the job market for almost four years? These days whether anyone wants to hire us or not is the least of my concerns.

I'm afraid of not being able to relate to our old friends. It has been 18 months since we've seen any of our friends from home (other than those who came out to visit us in South Africa and the Caribbean). How much will they have changed? How much will we?

I'm afraid that desk jobs will bore us senseless.

I'm afraid of letting the internet suck up days, weeks, months of my life. I used to self-medicate at work with regular visits to celebrity gossip sites. I was reading Perez Hilton long before he became a household name. Seriously, what a waste of time. Sten's little vice was the New York Times. Any time either of us needed to destress or escape, we'd immerse ourselves in news about Things That Don't Matter. Getting all caught up with dramas on the other side of the world or that impact people we don't know and are not likely to meet was how we avoided dealing with the stuff that does matter.

On this trip I have learned to entertain myself in ways that benefit me and those around me. I can now name just about any reef fish you put in front of me, bake a mean batard, boule or baguette, and whip up any number of cocktails. But any time we have access to the internet for more than an hour at a time I find myself sliding into old habits. I need to find something to do with myself that does not require me to sit in front of a computer all day.

I'm afraid of becoming less frugal and more influenced by consumer culture. During the years leading up to our departure we learned to live relatively frugally. It is what made this trip possible.

When people ask us how we could afford to quit our jobs and travel I usually joke, "well, our other option was buying a plasma." We had one car, which Sten inherited. Our housing payments cost us way less than what we could afford (at least according the mortgage industry). I kicked a $9 a day Starbucks habit. For two years (from the moment we decided to sail around the world until we left) we only bought clothing if we absolutely needed it (like when Sten's cuffs and collars frayed or my pants wore out at that pesky spot between the thighs). Any time we wanted to buy something the analysis was "will this get us to the Tuamotus?" If it didn't, it went back on the shelf.

Our frugality only intensified after we left. At the beginning of our trip we managed to put ourselves in dire financial straits. We had been relying on the sale of our house to pay off our boat loan and fill our cruising kitty. However, our house had been on the market for several months and we hadn't had an offer. There were only a couple thousand dollars in our bank account. But it was early November and we had to leave Newport then or wait until the Spring. So we left, trusting that our house would sell in the new year.

Then, two days before we left Newport for Bermuda we did something very stupid. Through the wonders of electronic banking, we mistakenly double paid a very large credit card bill (containing some major expenditures from our Newport refit). We went from black to red with one click of the "enter" key. You would think it would be easy to unwind such a mistake, but apparently any bank transaction over $10,000 triggers the Patriot Act. And so it was weeks, and many expensive phone calls from Bermuda and St. Martin, before the credit card company returned the money to our bank account. In the meantime, Suzy stepped in and floated us, for which we still are very grateful. But we didn't want to be too much of a burden and so we learned to live on just a few dollars a day. Those lessons in frugality have served us well. Even after the house sold and we were once again on sound financial footing, we were still very careful about what we spent money on.

These days we'll splurge on things that matter to us - our health, communicating with friends and family, keeping the boat seaworthy and comfortable, travel, and good food and drink. But we'll always take public transportation if it is an option. We'll negotiate for anything. We never accept the first price offered. If a place has a low-cost of living, that makes it attractive to us. And so when we are asked what our favorite destinations were, we find ourselves saying things like "Indonesia - you could live really well for very little." Which we realize is not what most people look for in a vacation destination. Which only reinforces how out of sync we've become with society's values.

I'm afraid that we will lose our grasp on the frugality that set us free from the mundane and has allowed us to continue to live a different life. If we don't have another adventure to save up for, if we don't have a need to live cheaply, will we be susceptible to media and community messages that we need to buy this, that and the other thing? I know that material stuff won't make us nearly as happy as snorkeling over a pristine reef or catching a bull mahi on the fly, but we both have our weaknesses. But I'll say this now: the day we buy a wii is the day we have to head back to sea.

I'm afraid of becoming trapped by possessions. Being debt-free is so liberating. I don't want the burden of having to service a mortgage or a car loan. But how does one function on land without shelter and transportation? Maybe the answer is to only take jobs that one can reach by dinghy.

I'm afraid of losing my new found sense of self-esteem. I think I'm gorgeous (I didn't always). So does my husband. Why should I care what anyone else thinks? Why should I hold myself up against the images in magazines and on television? I know I shouldn't. But I do. Oh, I do.

Just a week with the magazines that Kate and Deb brought us on their recent visit has had a negative impact on my body image. All those lovely curves and that positive buoyancy are apparently "muffin tops," "bat wings," and "squidgy bits" that must be banished through a rigorous regime of 250 calorie meals and daily 60 minute work-outs. One magazine even suggested a lower calorie alternative to a mint julep. Is nothing sacred?

I'm afraid of losing the intimacy that I've found with my husband by spending day in and day out with him in a small space for oh, the last 1305 days or so. In three years the longest we've been apart is 15 hours. We used to do that daily. And the practice practically made us strangers. I don't want to be a stranger to my spouse.

I'm afraid of losing the happiness that we've found.

I'm afraid of losing touch with the things we've come to value.

I'm afraid of not finding another community as welcoming and supportive as the cruising community.

I'm afraid of not finding a lifestyle that we enjoy as much as this one.

I'm afraid that we'll freeze to death if we have to live through a New England winter.

I'm afraid that someone is going to let slip and reveal the ending of Lost before we have the chance to watch the last two seasons.

May 29, 2010 - Marigot, St. Martin

Two of the biggest chandleries in the Caribbean are based in Sint Maarten. Sten has been wanting to do a number of projects on the boat for the past few weeks, but has been waiting until he had access to the good duty free prices and big selection available here.

In the past few days he has:

• Installed a dedicated start solenoid for the main engine start
• Changed the feed pump head on our Spectra watermaker to try to reverse the unit's trend of diminishing performance
  
• Upsized Spectra's OEM wire within the controller and to the motor
  
• Finalized the installation of the stackpack, which required a few trips up and down the mast
• Installed a new coax connector on the VHF
  
• Changed the oil in both the generator and main engine
• Tightened the shaft packing gland
• Replaced the bulbs in our masthead light, so now (once again) we have full power tri-color and LED

It is like living with Bill Nye The Science Guy. Every time I turn around he is tinkering with something else. Now the electronic barometer is acting up. Every four months or so the batteries in this unit get low and need changing. Simple enough right? Well the AA batteries in this unit have a tendency to leak and cause a real mess in the process. This has happened with different brands and different ages of batteries. This time the damage may be terminal, but the jury is still out. Meanwhile, Sten has spent the past few cocktail hours tinkering with the innards of the unit.

May 26, 2010 - Marigot, St. Martin

When the girls left on Monday morning they took all the fun (and the good weather) with them. It was time for us to get to work and get ready for the trip north. Sten spent the rest of the day and the one after installing and fixing stuff. While he was tearing the boat apart, I decided it was a good time to get out of the way. So I went shopping. As one does.

There is a reason why the Caribbean comes to St. Martin/Sint. Marteen to do its shopping. The selection is excellent, the prices good, and the taxes non-existent.

The French side of the island is known for its Parisian fashion. There are lots of wonderful boutiques, but my favorite is HipUp, which specializes in swimwear. The last bikini I bought here was so comfortable that I wore it until it fell apart after two years of nearly daily use. It served me so well that we gave it a burial at sea with full honors somewhere in the Indian.

The Dutch side of the island is known for the juggernaut of high-end duty free shopping available in Philipsburg. From electronics and jewelry, to perfume and clothing, everything the cruiseship passenger could want is available in Philipsburg, tax free.

Every fourth shop in Philipsburg seems to be a jewelry store with a side of liquor (or vice versa), but there is one worth seeking out - Gulmohar's on Front Street. Behind its unassuming facade lies a Disneyland for scotch enthusiasts. There is a veritable wall of Scotch. What's more, almost every variety on display is available for tasting. To be able to sample so many varieties at home or a bar would cost a small fortune, but at Gulmohar's, the samples are free and are accompanied by the owner's personal tasting notes.

We aren't Scotch drinkers, but the rum selection caught our eye. And soon we were tasting and talking rum with the very enthusiastic and knowledgeable owner. We tried some interesting rums from Guyana (El Dorado 15) and Venezuela (Santa Theresa 1796 Antiguo de Solera) and left with a bottle from both St. Lucia (Admiral Rodney) and Guatemala (Ron Zacapa 23 - widely considered to be the best sipping rum in the world). If we keep buying bottles at this rate we're going to have to build a bar just to display our collection. Either that or open a tiki bar.

May 23, 2010 - Marigot, St. Martin

Before Deb and Kate arrived in Sint Maarten last week we had been having an unbelievably bad run of squally, windy weather. But ever since they've been here, the weather has been perfect. It has been such a relief to be able to do everything on our packed itinerary without having to work around bad weather.

Here is the next installment of Deb's guest blog entries [with a few additions by me in brackets]:

----- Original Message -----

Do Brazil

We all slept well in the calm and protected harbor and awoke happy to see that it was another beautiful morning in the Caribbean. Gustavia had several flat stretches of road, so Kate and I decided to use that running gear that we dragged on vacation and went for a run through town. The heat was overwhelming, but we muscled through about 45 minutes of exercise (running, walking and hills) before meeting up with Danika back at the harbor.

Shell Beach

After grabbing our swimsuits from the dingy, we went to the patisserie for some water and lovely French treats. (When in France, right??) From there, we went back to Shell Beach for a little more swimming and were able to sit in the shade on the beach chairs provided by Do Brazil. The beach was much more crowded than yesterday, seemingly with locals who came prepared for a day full of sun, fun, food and cocktails. Around 1130, we decided that we'd left Sten alone long enough (and, frankly, we were baking in the sun), so we headed back to the harbor and got aboard Mata'irea and soon departed for a return trip to St. Martin.

It turned out to be a surprisingly good day for sailing, with an unusual northwest wind. We raised the main, unfurled the jib and we were soon sailing towards St. Martin at 5.5-6.0 knots. We decided to sail past Simpson Bay and directly into the harbor at Marigot, which Danika and Sten thought would be fairly well protected from the swell based on the wind direction. We anchored around 530pm and everyone took a swim to cool down after a long [and hot] afternoon passage.

When we were back on board, Danika mixed some cocktails and Sten prepared proscuitto-wrapped shrimp, which he grilled and served with marinated zucchini and eggplant. YUM. We had thought about going into town for a dessert of sweet crepes, but the heat lightning in the distance killed that plan before we even got started. Instead, we had a dessert plate of Three
Musketeers, York Peppermint Patties and Charleston Chews.

Over dinner and drinks, Kate and I were able to fill D&S in on the myriad of horrible reality TV and celebrity gossip that they have been shielded from over the past few years. It was kind of funny to see their reactions to things like "Flavor of Love", "Keeping up with the Kardashians" and the seemingly endless streams of "Housewives" shows. I have a feeling they won't be getting cable when they get back to Newport!

Sten and I fell asleep in the cockpit (as usual), while Danika and Kate finished the last of the wine [as usual]. What a wonderful evening with wonderful friends!!!

----- End of Original Message -----

May 21, 2010 - Anse de Colombier, St. Barts

Our guest blogger extraordinaire

We have two guests on board with us for the weekend, Kate and Deb. When we first invite people to stay on board with us we never know how they are going to acclimate to boat life. Kate, who spent a few nights on board with us in a marina in South Africa was a known entity, but we didn't know how Deb would do on the boat. We're happy to say that she's a natural. She is probably the least prone to seasickness out of all of us, including Sten. She also quickly discovered Sten's secret that the best place to sleep is in the cockpit. In addition, she helps with the dishes and writes the blog for me. This is one guest who is welcome back any time. Without further ado, here is Deb's daily update [with a few notes by me in brackets]:

----- Original Message -----

I woke up this morning to a beautiful daybreak, having spent the night on deck, in the fresh and warm Caribbean air. I had no idea what time it was (and didn't care), but knew that we'd be upping anchor around 9 and would head to Ile Forchue when the bridge opened at 930.


Right on target, we left Simpson Bay Lagoon at 930, but were heading directly into the wind. Danika and Sten put up the main and we motorsailed to Ile Forchue; arriving into the beautiful area at just after noon. [As we motored into the bay we passed a small French yacht that was having a difficult time picking up a mooring. As we drove by we had a front row seat for the yelling and could see how awkward and embarrassing it can be when things go wrong while trying to anchor, moor or dock a boat. And then, with Sten driving and Danika on the bow, we picked up our mooring on the first try. They were both clearly relieved that it went off without a hitch.] Danika treated us to a lunch of aged gouda, apples and wheat crackers, which we enjoyed (err ... devoured) before getting ready for our afternoon activities.

This guy really wanted to share our lunch

Next on our (very loose) agenda was some light hiking, which led to some of the prettiest views I've seen in quite some time. It was interesting to hike in such a natural environment, where there aren't yet trails to guide you along the route. Kate, Danika and I made it almost to the top (but didn't see the benefit in potentially ruining our nails to scramble the rest of the way up), while Sten went over the top and down the other side.


[Sten was above us on the descent when we realized that he'd been in the same spot for a while. We called up to find out what was keeping him. He responded that he had one of the mean cactus that populate the hillside stuck to his toe and his flip flop. And in trying to remove it he had gotten it also stuck to his hand. He was just trying to work up the gumption to yank it out of his palm before coming down. We tried not to laugh at him too much, but it was pretty comical.]

When we reached the bottom, it was time for a swim, so we jumped in to cool off. Danika, Kate and I swam back to Mata'irea (Sten took the dingy with our shoes/cameras) and then we did some snorkeling around the boat before moving on to our final destination for the day: Anse de Colombier (St Barts).

Kate donned a headscarf as part of her gambit to convince us to hire her on as our new galley slave

W[ith Kate assisting Danika on the bow] we picked up a mooring that was close to the beach and, while the ladies snorkeled around the shore, Sten began to prepare our evening feast. After getting cleaned up, we had pre-dinner wine tasting and were then treated to an unbelievable dinner of leg of lamb (rubbed in fresh garlic, ginger and pepper), tabbouleh, grilled veggies and a lovely red wine that Kate, Danika and Sten had tried (and purchased) in South Africa a few months back. We finished the night with a slide show from Kate's photo safari in Sabi Sabi and then we settled in for a good night's sleep. [True to form, Sten and I were snoozing away in the cockpit well before the end of the slide show.]

----- End of Original Message -----

May 20, 2010 - Simpson Bay, Sint Maarten

I've been so busy catching up with two of my favorite people (Kate and Deb) and working my way through the mountain of gossip magazines that they brought us that I haven't had time to write anything. I was dreading reaching the end of their short visit with us and having to recreate the whole experience from memory, knowing that I was going to lose lots of details in the process. Then Deb showed me the daily emails that she was writing to friends and family back home about their visit. Well, since Mama didn't raise no fools, I begged her to become our guest blogger for the duration and returned to catching up on all the gossip.

----- Original Message -----

Our first day of vacation was awesome. Danika and Sten were at the airport to pick us up and, after a small snafu at immigration, we headed to the lagoon, where Danika and Sten had left their dingy, via bus. We piled in the dingy and took a short ride to Mata'irea, which was anchored in Simpson Bay Lagoon.

We caught up over a cocktail (a Moscow Mule -- ginger beer, fresh lime and vodka) before heading back to town. Danika and Kate went to the immigration office, where Kate and I were signed onto Mata'irea as temporary crew and we were cleared out of the country (Netherlands Antilles) for departure tomorrow morning. While they did the heavy lifting, Sten and I did a little swimming and we all met up for happy hour at a bar on the beach.

From there, it was a quick trip back to Mata'irea (Sten is our personal dingy/taxi driver!) for a shower and wardrobe change before heading to Marina Royal on the French side of the island for dinner and a little shopping. As promised by D and S, we were wooed by a host/hostess at every restaurant we passed, with promises of free drinks and fresh food abounding. After hearing everyone out -- and even checking out two kitchens for comparison -- we settled on a lovely Italian restaurant that didn't disappoint.

Is it any wonder that every restaurant host asked Sten how he got so lucky? Sure, it's a line. But it's a good one!

We started with mussels (after our complimentary champagne!) and then had seafood risotto (me), lasagna (sten), osso bucco (danika) and linguine with clams (kate). The meal ended with a shot of limoncello (another promotional giveaway), but they were out of profiterolles. Everything was great and we came back to Mata'irea for a few quick stories and then off to bed. I slept in the cockpit (above deck) and loved having fresh air swirl around me all night. Amazing start to our vacation!

----- End of Original Message -----

May 19, 2010 - Simpson Bay, Sint. Maarten

Upon arrival in Simpson Bay, Sint. Maarten on Monday afternoon we anchored outside the bridge. After lunch, showers and loading the dinghy with four bags of dirty laundry we dinghied over to the lagoon entrance to clear in. We were startled to find the lagoon nearly empty. We expected all the big motor yachts to be long gone, as their Mediterranean charter season is already in full swing. However, we expected the lagoon to be full of sailboats like Antigua and St. Barts. But it wasn't.

From the entrance on the Dutch side, the lagoon looked empty. But in the distance we could see that the French side of the lagoon was chock-a-block with cruising sailboats. The new fees on the Dutch side have clearly taken their toll. There are now very few boats clearing in an out on the Dutch side, which is currently charging steep weekly harbor fees based on boat length. The fees on the French side work out to be about the same for short-term stays, but for yachts spending a long time in the area, clearing into the French side of the lagoon works out to be cheaper. So, now the French side is packed, and the Dutch side looks like a ghost town.

Three years ago we spent several weeks anchored in the lagoon finishing Mata'irea's refit and getting the boat ready for the Pacific. So much has changed since then. The laundromat is closed. The bar/wifi hotspot we used to frequent is shuttered. Based on the pile of debris outside, the cheap and tasty Indian buffet has clearly been shut down for a while. But there are a bunch of swanky new restaurants and bars and an amazing new grocery store, all of which are clearly catering to the megayacht trade.

After finding a place to take our laundry, we found a place (which used to be a different place) to have ribs and watch the Red Socks give it up to the Yankees. It's going to be a long season. As we were tucking into some tasty pulled pork we realized that the last time we'd seen a game was last summer, the night we arrived in the Seychelles.

Our friends arrive tomorrow, so the past two days have been full of boat chores. The first item on the list was to replace the broken handle on the port stateroom hatch, which we haven't been able to open for many, many months. Yesterday morning Sten went off to the chandlery to buy a new handle along with several spares. The trip turned out to be more exciting than expected.

Sten was standing outside of Budget Marine, reading the notices posted on a bulletin board, when some construction debris flew off the roof and hit him on the head before landing on his foot. His big toe was sliced open, but at least he didn't wind up in the emergency room. I would have thought that the near concussion would have entitled him to a discount, but the manager didn't offer and he didn't press the issue. Anyway, now he's running around with a piece of yellow electrical tape securing his bandage while he installs the new stackpack and replaces watermaker filters.

January 3, 2007 - January 9, 2007, Simpson Bay, St. Maarten

We came back to Simpson Bay (again, anchoring outside the lagoon) to see if our missing packages from home have caught up with us. We were lucky enough to get one, but the other appears to be lost in transit.

On Wednesday, Sten was doing a bit of boat work and realized that we had a crack in the chain plate for our port backstay. See if you can spot it in the picture below.


Sten took it to the riggers, and they promised to have two new ones made by Friday. We're both frustrated by having to be here longer than necessary.

We’re so sick of St. Maarten and St. Martin. Don't get me wrong, they certainly serve their purpose. The provisioning is fabulous. And if you need to do boat work and do some damage to your wallet at chandleries, we can’t think of a better spot. But, we can’t imagine how people spend years anchored in this cesspool.

One night at Shrimpy’s we heard a guy boast that the only time he’d left the lagoon in two years was to spend one night in the harbor on the French side. A few weeks ago at a flea market, we met a woman who had spent the past seven years in the lagoon. We were excited when we thought she might be able to tell us something about Anguilla or St. Bart’s. But she explained that they hadn’t visited any of the other islands in that time. We were stunned. Are these people “cruising”? Are we? We’re certainly all living aboard, but other than that, we seem to be engaged in two very different activities.

This enforced idle has given us another opportunity to knock a few more items on our punch list. Check out Sten’s beautiful first splice:

This is why friends don’t let friends buy combination locks for their dinghy chain:


So we replaced it with a key lock.

On Friday, the riggers didn’t have the new plates done. So we’re stuck here for a few more days. We’re both really frustrated, and getting a bit testy about having to spend any more time here. There is so much of the Leewards that we want to see before we meet up with family and friends in the Grenadines in February. So, we decided to do what we do best: go to the beach.

On Saturday morning we climbed onto one of the local buses and headed towards the beach, not really knowing exactly where to get off. As we drove past a park-like area that could have had a beach just beyond it, the driver assured us that he was taking us to the beach. He dropped us off and we followed a security guard who pointed us towards the beach access path. As we reached the beach we discovered that we’d been taken to the nude beach. After the week in St. Barts we were somewhat adjusted to seeing naked people, so we decided to make a go of it.

As we wandered past the chairs full of lounging people with no tan lines, we found a nook in the cliffside where we could hang out without being confronted by so much nudity. What can I say, we’re prudes.

Late Tuesday afternoon, our new plates were finally done by the riggers. The delay turned out to be fortuitous. The wind, which usually blows at least 15knots from the east or north east, had died down so we could make our way due east to Barbuda. We had thought that we were going to have to skip Barbuda, and miss the opportunity to see its legendary beaches. Instead, we had been planning to head south instead and do Saba, Nevis, and Statia. With this break in the prevailing weather patterns we decided to take the opportunity to do an overnight passage (our first since the Bermuda to St. Maarten run), motoring to Barbuda.

While Sten went to pick up the plates I cleared us out of customs and did some last minute provisioning for our upcoming week. After putting the dinghy on deck, getting everything stowed for passage, and having dinner, we left for Barbuda at 10pm.

December 23, 2006, St. Martin

The boats coming into Marigot to pick up charter guests or restock their galleys are simply amazing. Maltese Falcon, Tom Perkins’s Perini with the aero rig, which was just launched this summer, is the most stunning of the bunch. With its three masts light up at night it has a sinister glow about it.

It seems as though every few days I’m writing about some malady, most of which are self inflicted. Last night I woke up with searing pain in my right ankle. I thought I had twisted it on the walk back from the refrigeration shop, but there was no sign of swelling or bruising, and this didn't feel like a sprain. After a few more stabs of pain I got up to take some Advil. It hurt no more or less standing on it than lying in bed. Completely befuddled, I went back to bed. But soon there were tears running down my cheeks as jolts of pain coursed through my right calf. Sten flicked on the light and looked at my ankle. Agreeing that it probably wasn’t a sprain, he went to grab the medical reference book out of our first aid kit. We’d previously read in Lin Pardey’s Care and Feeding of Sailing Crew that dehydration could cause cramps, but could they hurt so much? The fist aid book confirmed that the cause was probably dehydration, so I slugged back a Nalgene bottle full of Gatorade. The pain lessened a bit, and I was able to go back to sleep.

In the morning, the pain was back, so I grabbed Pardey’s book to see what she had to say about treatment options. It seems that dehydration depletes the body’s stores of salt. She recommended a few teaspoons of salt mixed with fruit juice. It was vile, but I got it down. This is a miracle cure - within 30 minutes, the cramps were gone. A few hours later, Sten began to cramp up too. He took the cure as well, with similarly quick results.

We spent the rest of the day wandering around the shops in Marigot. I picked up a new bikini and Sten went in search of a Christmas gift for me.

December 22, 2006, St. Martin

We ran around doing errands today. Picked up the replacement oarlock for our dingy from Budget Marine and placed an order for the replacement grill grates from Island Water World, which we‘ll pick up next month in St. Lucia. We’re well aware that we aren’t going to see anything like these chandleries once we get past St. Lucia, so we’re stocking up on spares. From a local refrigeration shop we picked up a 30lb bottle of R134A to top up our refrigeration system. We’re both really fond of cold drinks, so we thought it good insurance against our refrigeration system going down in the middle of the South Pacific.

December 21, 2006, St. Martin

We came back to St. Martin from Anguilla today. Neither of us was interested in heading back into the lagoon with its fetid water. For a change of scene, we cleared in on the French side and anchored in Marigot Bay. We had our first brush with the legendary rudeness of French civil servants today. As I struggled with my seventh grade French to clear us in (how I wish I'd paid more attention in that class!), the gendarme manning the customs office refused to speak a word of English. One can not possibly live on an island this small, the businesses on the Dutch half of which operate in English, and not have a command of the English words relevant to their job. And then he wouldn’t lend me a pen to complete the forms. I hope the whole transaction made him feel very superior.

After soothing my ruffled feathers with an ice cream bar, we headed off to Cost U Less, the warehouse store in Phillipsburg, to stock up on more junk food and canned goods. At some point during the past few weeks we must have gotten over our hesitations about passage making. We’re loading the boat as though we’re planning to cross the Pacific. So far we have lockers full of such essential supplies as Oreos, Pringles and Gatorade.

December 13, 2006

We've spent the past week in St. Maarten working through the work list I posted above. So far the more time consuming projects have been servicing the windlass, the watermaker installation, washing all 22 of our cushion covers by hand in the bathtub and replacing the forward and aft hatch seals. We're hoping to finish up the watermaker installation tomorrow, so that we can head up to Anguilla this weekend.

We're finally up and running on skype, and really enjoying being able to talk to our families. And I missed the folks on Grey's Anatomy so much that we finally joined the rest of our generation on ITunes - but it takes ages to download anything on the flimsy wireless connection that I have here - like 7 hours an episode.

We also found down-below shoes - shoes that don't ever leave the boat (we wear different shoes ashore and ditch them as soon as we get back aboard) so that we don't track dirt around down below. I swore I would never by a pair of crocs as they are possibly the ugliest shoes known to man. But they are comfortable. The croc flip flops are not quite as ugly, but still super comfy. The rest of the cruisers here seem to agree. Island Water World recently got in a shipment, but by the time we stumbled across the display, choices were somewhat limited. Sten went with the black and yellow as a nod to his CAT heritage, and I chose the blue and white because they were the only ones in my size.
















Along with flip flops, I live in Sahalie's Sport Camis (loads of support) and linen skirts. Sten is loving his Railriders Hemingway Shorts (in part because he has gotten so skinny that his old Patagucci Stand Up Shorts are all way too big for him now) and light woven Humidor shirts from Quicksilver. All our winter gear from the trip down is clean and stowed away. We don't expect to need them again until the leg from Tonga to New Zealand this time next year.

Last Saturday we went to the market in Marigot, were I was thrilled to discover nigella seeds, which were called for by a breadstick recipe that I'd been wanting to make, but I'd never heard of them, much less seen them. They are a peppery little seed and they gave the breadsticks an interesting flavor. I told my mom about the recipe and she comes out with - "oh, yeah, that's the seed that gives Armenian cheese its distinctive flavor." How does she know this stuff?















Now that I have a bag of them (seeds, not breadsticks - Sten demolished half of those over lunch), I'm going to have to find some other uses for them.

December 5, 2006

Yesterday we spent the day catching up on our email and bills and visiting two huge marine chandleries (neither of us had ever seen anything quite like them) and visiting the local sail maker. Then we sat down over a bottle of wine, some cheese and crackers, and our new overview chart of the Caribbean, and plotted out the next few months. The original plan was to go through the Panama Canal in the spring, but we’re hesitating for a few reasons. The house hasn’t sold yet, and we won’t be comfortable with our financial situation until it does. But the overwhelming issue is that we’ve discovered that neither of us really likes being on passage, and once we’re spit out the other side of the Canal, we’re going to be in for some very long passages. We are keeping in mind that the past two passages have been in some pretty tough conditions, so we’ll see how we fare on the leg from the Grenadines to the ABC’s, then the next leg on over to the San Blas Islands in March before we decide whether to pull the rip cord on the whole scheme and head back to New England for hurricane season. In the meantime, we’re going to enjoy the next three months of cruising the Caribbean. High on our list of places to visit on this side of the Canal are Dominica and the Grenadines.

Today we went off in search of a free internet connection only to spend two frustrating hours where gmail and skype wouldn’t work. It is unbelievably frustrating not to be able to communicate. I know that there is a Zen lesson in patience here for me. But in the meantime it is costing us a dollar a minute in sat phone time just to deal with things like banking and bills. A very expensive Zen lesson it seems.

From our frustrating internet experience, the day continued to oscillate between frustration and fun. We returned to the boat to find that the water tank was dry, and our water pump had been working in vain for at least two hours. After letting the pump cool down and dumping our jerry cans in the tank, we spent an hour getting the pump to prime again - Sten in the engine room cleaning filters and sucking on the hose while I turned on and off valves and breakers. We got it working again, and Sten enjoyed showering in Newport’s finest.

While the pump cooled down, Sten hauled me up the mast so that I could take down the old topping lift and attach reflective mast head tape (so that we can pick out our stick in a crowded harbor). Earlier in the week, he’d taken me up to the first spreader, so that I could retrieve our new topping lift, which had broken free during the last passage. And I had thought that was good fun, swinging around in the bosun’s chair in a gentle breeze. But going to the top of the mast, now that is wicked good fun.

This is where John, our webmaster, is going to be incredibly jealous:

















How cool is that? For scale, that is Sten standing on the starboard deck. We’re still airing out from passage, so those bundles on the foredeck are the contents of our sail locker.

The shackle holding the old topping lift was pretty well seized up, and no amount of pressure with the wrench would get it to budge. So I tried sticking the tip of the needle nose pliers in the hole in the shackle pin to get some leverage. Bad plan. The tip of the pliers promptly broke off, in the pin. So Sten had the brilliant idea of sending a marlin spike up to me on a flag halyard. That did the trick.

I’ve got to give a shout out here to Brett Little, Darren Baird, Bjorn Andersen, Jay Kugler DeYoung, Ann Brachman and Jerry Tichner for a most excellent going away present. The Icom Submersible Plus handheld that you guys gave us is fantastic. We use it all the time when one of us is off the boat and the other is aboard. I had it up at the top of the mast with me, while Sten monitored the Command Mic (the cockpit extension of our main radio) to communicate without the entire marina hearing. Thanks guys!

After we got the water working, while Sten cleaned up, I got us ready to meet up with Fred and Linda from Nike. They had just done 19 islands in 21 days on their Amel Super Maramu, and we were anxious to hear about their travels. As we rushed to meet up with them at the appointed time, I tossed our jerry cans into the dingy, only to have one go well beyond its mark. So there I am, chasing a jerry can across the lagoon as it floats away, all the swagger from my success at the top of the mast completely wiped away.

We met up with Fred and Linda, and headed over to the Sunset Beach Bar at the end of the airport runway. The sunset was a bit disappointing, but luckily we had human stupidity to entertain us. People stand at the strip of beach at the end of the runway when the 747’s take off in order to get blasted with sand and whatever else the engines kick up. One potential Darwin Award recipient was standing there holding his child up to the sand blast so that she could enjoy the full effect of ear drum and potential cornea damage. Amazing. After many drinks, some decent burgers, a few dollars lost on the crab races, and a smattering of sand flea bites, we decided to call it a day. Besides, at 8:30, it was way past our bedtime.

St. Maarten - December 3, 2006

Yesterday we arrived in St. Maarten around noon, just in time to enter the Simpson Bay Lagoon. We thought that we would shower before we headed over to customs to clear in. We anchored, on the second try, and I went down below to strip down the bed, shower and shave it all off (we both get pretty gnarly on passage).

Just as I was rinsing out the conditioner, Sten shouts down that we are dragging. So I throw on some clothing, rush up to help him reset the anchor, for the third time. At this point we’re both feeling pretty embarrassed, but at least the anchor is set. And we’re parked next to Dagny, a boat we spent some quality laundry and beach time with in Bermuda. While I was showering, Sten had been inflating the dingy. After we set the anchor for the third time, he muscled the motor from the aft rail, and we mounted it on the transom of the dink. Then we used the spinnaker halyard to lower it into the water. As we were doing so, one of the crew from Dagny was gesturing at us, but I was too focused to pay attention to him. I should have.

As soon as the dink was in the water, Sten realized that we were dragging down onto a motor yacht. So he quickly tied off the dink on our stern and turned on the engine while I reattached the spinnaker halyard and went forward to operate the windlass. We decided that we were having no luck with the holdingin that part of the harbor, so we headed west, and dropped anchor just below a hill with the fantastic name of Witch's Tit. Setting the anchor for the forth time, we dug it in really hard - enough to make the stern pull out of the water. So much for the old adage - the forth time seemed to be the charm.

Our final spot had the advantage of putting us close to Marigot, on the French side of the harbor. It was too late to clear in, but a technicality wasn’t about to keep me from ice cream and fresh bread. After a dulce de leche milkshake, we spent some time looking at the various chalkboard specials in Port Royale. We had a nice dinner, accompanied by a bottle of Sancerre, while sitting out on a patio in the evening breeze. At the end of the meal, the house brought out a bottle rum, which they steep in vanilla bean and banana. Quite tasty. After they ran our debit card in euros, at the amount of the US conversion (so in essence, we would have been paying 30% more for our meal), Sten helped himself to a few more drops while they corrected their error.

As soon as we dropped anchor yesterday, Lenore climbed up on the salon table and demanded to be fed. She’s since eaten two cans of food and is working her way through a third.

This morning we put together our St. Martin Worklist. You’ll notice a few items from the Bermuda list that didn’t quite get done, and some things that we will have to do at every landfall.

• Clear-in and pay bridge fee
• Banking and Bills
• Investigate freefall anchor operation - Maxwell
• Buy new cams for traveller - Ronstan
• Buy spare solenoid
• Subscribe to sail mail
• Get up and running with skype
• Investigate D-link phone
• Source 12volt (possibly LED) cockpit light
• Replace two salon reading lights with LED and add a third
• Install Velcro to hold settee cushions in place on port tack
• Laundry
• Clean foul weather gear
• Air out/ Dry out
• Adjust furling line
• Find suitable laundry to clean ultra suede cushion covers
• Seal rough edges of bimini cover and sail cover with rope cutter
• Measure and buy new hatch seals
• Buy dingy lock and chain (lots of theft in St. Martin)
• Buy lock and chain for spare motor on rail
• Pump down refrigeration.
• See if we can buy some additional fridge gas
• Work out voltage difference on link panel
• Purchase grill if prices are reasonable
• Measure and replacement swim ladder feet
• Buy small palm for sail repair
• Call Thurston re: spreader chaffing protection, fourth reef installation and slatting of luff of mainsail
• Talk to Joe Mello re slatting of main (perhaps it is a rigging issue rather than a sail construction issue)
• Talk to local Quantum sail maker about new roller-furling staysail (on this last passage we decided that the convenience and safety of not having to go forward in big seas to set the staysail will be worth the money) and about main adjustments after talking to Thurston and Joe Mello
• Complete watermaker installation
• Complete new autopilot installation
• Clean racor filter bowls
• Retrieve topping lift that is wrapped around the spreaders (Sten hauled me up the mast this morning in the bosun‘s chair - super fun for me, not so much for him J)
• Deal with chaff of reefing lines
• Clean
• Insall blocks or line in storage compartment at base of companionway stairs
• Buy gaff, boat hook, and MOB pole (to replace items lost on first leg)
• Buy mast head tape (so we can find our boat in a crowded harbor)
• Go to produce market on Wednesday
• Do some X-mas shopping at the duty free shops
• Remove peeling paint from dorades
• Do dinner in Grand Case
• Buy down below/ never-leave-the-boat shoes for both of us
• Buy Sten a light weight foul weather jacket and a light weight hat
• Buy Danika a pair of quick dry shorts for passage
• Tighten bolts on binnacle
• Remove adhesive residue from S&S’s dodger pattering
• Complete stereo installation
• Service port staysail winch
• Relocate bilge pump float switch
• Investigate steering column noise
• Calibrate depth sounder

That should keep us out of trouble for a few days.

Bermuda to St. Martin - November 26, 2006 - December 2, 2006

Our second passage was much easier than our first. No force 10 storm. No 30 foot waves. No 30 hours hove-to. No 60 kt gusts. We did have a steady 25-35 knots of breeze for much of the trip, with seas that ranged between 12 and 20 feet. Without the first trip, I would have been terrified when the seas got big, but instead we simply reefed down and set the staysail. With each passage we become more confident in ourselves and the boat.

But lest I make is seem like a walk in the park - we were both taking turns booting at the leeward rail for the first two days, but by the fourth day we were both comfortable functioning down below. Unfortunately, we were on port tack for almost all of the trip, which means that our settee is barely useable, you have to brace yourself to keep your perch on the head, anything you try to cook in the microwave attempts to coat the front of your foul weather gear when you open the door, and the only comfortable place to be down below is in our bed. Sten did manage to make some fantastic grilled cheese sandwiches and quesadillas. I made tea one morning (baby steps folks, baby steps), which is quite a bit harder in a boat that is rolling back and forth than on our stove at home.

It was really to rough to fish, but on the second to last day of passage Sten put out the fancy lure that he bought at the NPT boat show to see if we could catch a sushi dinner for our first night in St. Martin. Within 10 minutes it was hit by something big and pelagic, which promptly bit off the business end of the arrangement. We were bummed about the loss, and Sten admitted that he should have had it on a wire leader, but it was really too rough to be dealing with fighting (especially with no gaff - lost overboard during the first leg) and cleaning a fish.

Other than our personal discomfort, and Lenore’s hunger strike part II, one of the only bits of trouble on this trip came from our autopilot, which beeped at us quite a bit to tell us that the big rollers that we were taking on our stern quarter were causing it to be off course. One time it shut down on us. We knew from our delivery run last summer that the Robertson AP22 was a bit overpowered running downwind in big following seas. As part of our refit we purchased an AP26, and installed a support bracket, ram, junction box and control head, and ran most of the wires; but we didn’t have time to hook it all up (wires and pump) and install the rate compass before heading south. It is on our St. Martin worklist, but chances are, we won’t need it until we head to the ABC’s on route to Panama in March, so it may not happen until down island. The other concerns we had this passage were the refrigerator (it still takes too long to come down in temp), the batteries (charging still seems to take a long time), the steering cables (making a bit of noise), and the new mainsail (makes a hell of a lot of noise downwind and needs some chaffing patches at the spreaders). We’ll address these during the next month, while we hang out in and near St. Martin, with its duty free chandleries and plethora of marine services.