Travels of Into The Blue

A Glimpse of Hurricane Earl

2010-09-15T10:36:00.000-07:00

As Hurricane Earl passed through, we decided to keep a journal of sorts, so that we would remember what the storm was like - and would be able to share it with you. Here is what we wrote at the time:

We finished getting the boat ready for the storm last night. Now it's the day of the storm, and Earl is coming ashore as a category 1 hurricane, somewhere around Lunenberg. Our apartment is sheltered - the building is an ell, and much of the time the wind and rain don't affect us. We're waiting for the storm.

8:30 am: Weather: the wind is gusting, it’s foggy out. The air is still warm and humid, after a hot week. It rained last night, and the advertising that always comes off the board over the pizza store started coming off. Now it’s peeling down at the corner, and by tonight it will be gone... Web cams seem a good way to see what's happening, but most of the web cams don’t seem to be working. Our view of the storm will be confined to what we can see from our windows.

Here's what we see. In the Narrows the white caps are just starting, and there is spray where they break on the shore on the Dartmouth side. Small birds have been flying around, sudden rushes of small winged creatures and some things - leaves, paper - are starting to blow around.

9:15 am: The rain is heavy, and blowing sideways. The Narrows are hard to see now, the tree branches are dancing around, the rain is blowing past in gusts. Our windows are still gapped to let fresh air in, very slightly, but not likely to remain so much longer. Ironically, there is more traffic on the road now than there was earlier. Wonder where they’re going, and why?

CBC is checking around the province - power out in various places - mixed weather all over the place, but wind picking up. Power just flicked off and on - if it happens again, time to turn the computers off.

9:45 am: The power flicked off and on again, so I closed down the computer for the duration of the storm. Better not to risk the possible consequences of a power surge.

The rain has eased for now. The wind is blowing the leaves off the trees behind the apartment building, and they are swirling over the roof and down in front of our window. We can see the gulls gathered on the ground by the cove down the street from us, where they are well-sheltered from the wind and waves. The wind is strong enough to make the sign for our apartment building pump in and out...

10:23 am: The wind is gusting hard, and the rain is blowing sideways, in curtains, in the gusts. We are under a hurricane watch, not a tropical storm watch, thanks to the change in Earl’s course which is bringing the storm much closer to us than forecast earlier. The storm is coming ashore close to Mahone Bay, instead of further west. There are reports from Peggy’s Cove that the waves are very heavy, and in spite of the efforts of the police some foolish people have found their way out on to the rocks.

11:11 am: The wind is picking up. The electrical wires running along the road are moving. There are lights flashing by the Narrows, down by the railroad tracks, but we can’t see what is there. The trees are bending, and the advertising boards we can see from our window are moving, waving back and forth around their axes. The board that always loses it’s ad is doing what it usually does - most of the ad that was there has been washed and blown away. Reports on CBC say that the waves along the coast are building; that some sailboats have moved their moorings and drifted, and one that was moored on the LaHave River has been seen moving out to sea.

We can’t see the Narrows any more, never mind seeing across them; what we can see is the wind gusts driving the rain. Small branches are blowing along the road now, and a few bags of garbage. Every now and then CBC fades and comes back; the power flickers occasionally, but it keeps coming back on.

Noon: The rain is blowing in visible gusts. The trees by the bottom parking lot, which until now were sheltered a little bit by the building, are dancing, showing the underside of their leaves and bending and nodding in the wind. The wind looks as if it is picking up spray off the waters in the Narrows, and in the cove where the gulls are sheltering; the bridge across the Narrows which we can usually see, is invisible for now. There are reports of lots of trees down throughout Halifax.

12:12 pm: The rain is streaming so hard down the windows that it’s hard to see through them. The forecasters say it will be another hour or two until the worst part of the storm passes. The wind is gusting over 90 km/h, Earl has lost a little bit of it’s ferocity since coming ashore. Leaves and small branches are flying, swirling in the air and on the ground. People are driving past - going some place they don’t need to go?

12:50 pm: The wind is gusting in excess of 100 km/h, but the sky is growing lighter and we can see the Narrows again. We can also see that the gulls are still firmly planted on the ground.

1:24 pm: The skies are continuing to grow lighter. The wind has come around and is out of the SW, and is blowing hard against our windows. There are reports of lots of boats dragging in the Bedford Basin, at the top of the harbour above the Narrows, in the mooring field around the Bedford Basin Yacht Club. The wet flags on the roof below our windows are blowing hard now, flapping and making lots of noise.

2:15 pm: The skies are growing lighter still, and now there are a few birds in the air. The electric wires and the trees are still dancing in the wind. One small tree is leaning over into the parking lot of the aesthetics school across the road. Some of the shingles on the side of the apartment building, on what looks like alcoves, are lifting in the wind. The ads on the board above the pizza shop beside us are completely gone, and something is flapping around on the front of the store. People are starting to come out and look around, to see what has happened.

2:22 pm: A glimpse of the sun! Low clouds are moving past very quickly, but the weather is definitely lifting now.

2:44 pm: There is more and more blue sky and the clouds are higher. The wind is still blowing hard out of the SW, but the sun is shining. The storm is passing; tomorrow, except for the clean up, it will be as if it had not been here.

We stayed home for the rest of the day, though we were itching to go and see how Into The Blue had fared. We knew that there were many trees down, and some roads were blocked, and nothing was going to change between that afternoon and the next morning as far as the boat was concerned. The roads, however, should be clearer.

When we did go to the marina the next morning we found some of the traffic lights out along the way, piles of tree branches and bits by the road, and crews out working to restore power and clean up where they could. We got to the marina before the electricity did, and found Into The Blue, thankfully, just as we had left her - and, so far as we could tell, all the other boats there were fine as well. While we were there some boats started returning from where they had hidden from the storm, up the North West Arm, and some that had been hauled were being put back in the water.

Summer into Storm Season.

2010-08-30T11:51:00.000-07:00

August is winding down. The weather is warm, the skies have been mostly sunny, and summer has been kind to us in many ways. We have spent many weekends working on the boat. So far we have taken many things apart, reconfigured some, and spent many hours sanding. Many, many hours sanding. Odd how large the boat seems at time like this...

We are doing a major refit, and so - for the benefit of those who are interested and those who have said they would like it - we have decided to describe the things we are doing in a separate blog.

Introducing the refit blog: Refitting Into The Blue.

Now we just have to get through the hurricane season without storms creating even more work.

Springing into Summer in Halifax

2010-07-29T11:08:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while - too long - since we updated this blog. We have been adjusting to being in a different phase of life, at least for now. With the boat in need of a major refit, we have settled into living on land for a while. There is work to do so we can live comfortably, raise money for the refit and save for things we need now or will need in the future. Our plans and expectation are probably much more realistic now than they were when we first set out to cruise; but cruising is still our dream and our goal. Next year we plan to be back on the boat, and back on the water. In the meantime, we’ll keep sharing what we’re doing.

There’s a lot to catch up on, so here are some of the things we’ve been up to, in an easy-to-read format, starting with:

The Model Show at Shearwater Aviation Museum

Every April there is a model show at the Shearwater Aviation Museum, and proceeds from the show are used to support the museum. It’s a great show - tables and booths are arranged throughout the museum’s hangar space, and models share space with the aircraft and other exhibits normally on view there. The models are of all kinds of things, and there’s something to interest just about anyone. We looked at:
* model houses and stores, beautifully made and decorated;
* models trains, static (I loved the wooden ones best) and moving through a model town, past a model station;
* planes, static and radio-controlled, including radio-controlled models of sailboats and powerboats with electric and glo-plug engines, and helicopters;
* boats of all kinds, including the small scale, battling naval vessels made to battle by the men of the North Atlantic Battle Squadron.
* a home-built flying remote camera!

The train is passing through...

A very cool flying camera

The miniature saddlery!

Now that's a beautiful wooden train.

You can see the North Atlantic Battle Squadron’s pictures of the show by clicking here. They had a demonstration of the kind of firepower used on their ships (air fired pellets), and we saw video of their battles - and heard the sound of men being hit on the legs by the pellets when the battles came too close to them. They might complain, but they were too intent on the battle to move!

The Refurbished Dartmouth Harbour Walkway

With the return of warmer weather, we’ve spent time walking and biking along the walkway that runs from Alderney Landing along the Dartmouth waterfront. There are more signs of development there now than there were last time we passed by. The former Dartmouth Marine Slips are being cleaned up in preparation for being part of large a housing development, and visitors are discouraged from trespassing on the spit they are on by numerous signs - though we saw a rusty ship sitting at anchor there.

From the walkway you can look out across the harbour and see Georges Island. The small island, close to the harbour entrance, is being prepared for people to visit after years of being largely ignored. It played an integral role in the defence of the Harbour and was an important military site right up to World War II. Now the island and some of the fortifications on it are being made ready for visitors. There are rumours that once there was access to the island through hidden tunnels from Halifax. It could be really interesting to explore those!

The walkway itself has been improved. It has a nice new surface in some places and a good place to cross the train tracks that also run along the watefront. We lingered on the bridge over the Schubenacadie Canal, and stopped to look at the paintings on the walls of some of the neighboring buildings. We found more art to than we had seen when we visited last year, including an official graffiti wall. The official walkway peters out, at least for a while, close to the graffiti wall. I took a little bit of exploring to find the next part, and we haven’t walked or biked that far yet - maybe next time we will.

Georges Island, through the branches of a tree

The official graffiti wall

The bridge over the Shubenacadie Canal

Rusty ship off the former Dartmouth Marine Slips

Pow-wow on the Commons - Membertou 400

In June we went to a pow-wow on the Halifax Commons, held to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the baptism of Chief Membertou of the Mi’kmaq nation and 20 of his family into the Christian faith - they were among the first aboriginals to become Christians. It seems to have been a strategic move, the basis for an alliance between the French and the Mi’kmaq nation that lasted 150 years. The pow-wow was interesting - there was a Mi’kmaq Cultural Village, a marketplace and free samples of a variety of aboriginal foods.

We walked to the Commons over Citadel Hill (good exercise!), and were greeted by the sight of tipis, the sound of music, and the activity created by lots of people, including lots of children, walking around, looking and listening. We spent time watching the grand entry parade, with flags and beautifully dressed dancers and drumming. Then we turned to the stage to watch and listen to Buffy Sainte-Marie. She and the band she was working with played and sang old favorites, powerful anthems and songs from her new album, Running for the Drum. It was a great show, the band she was working with responsive and enthusiastic, and after an encore they all left the stage singing.

If you enjoy her work, here’s a taste...

Purcell’s Cove Marina

The marina is where you’ll find us now, most weekend days. It’s our new weekend haunt, where we spend time on the boat repairing and strengthening parts of the deck, fabricating (so far) a new anchor locker, sanding and re-sanding lots of stuff, and discussing and figuring out what works and what needs changing. We have a much better idea now of how to set things up to work well for us underway.

Whoever is working outside can - at least until we put up a cover - look out over the marina and across the harbour. There we can see other boats sailing, racers passing by or jostling for a start, and container ships and other vessels coming and going. We saw the start of the race to St. Pierre, a race which included Spirit of Canada - and, we later found out, a boat which carried a friend from Ontario as crew. The sun has been shining, and we both have farmer’s tans - brown about the arms and face, and winter white elsewhere.

Looking out across the harbour...

Looking toward the hill behind the marina...

Our Refit

The boat has now been emptied of most things that can be taken off. We have begun some repairs on the deck, strengthening where the anchor windlass was and will be again. We have, filled in the hole where our chimney once was, taken out and filled in where the pumpout fitting used to be (we don’t need it with a composting head - and it was leaking). Holes in the wooden bulkheads, acquired over years of putting up hooks and fittings, have been carefully filled in. The bow has been well cleaned inside and we are part way through making the new anchor chain locker, which will sit low down in the hull. Generally, we are trying to work our way back from bow to stern. We divide the work up so that one of us is usually outside when the other is working inside...

We are thinking about setting up a separate blog to track our refit - if you’re interested in following along in more detail (complete with pictures and how-we’re-doing-it) please leave a comment or e-mail, and let us know!

Men Who Are Passionate About Oceans

2010-03-15T13:12:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest pleasures of going to the Halifax International Boat show is the chance to meet and talk to people who are passionate about the oceans we travel, live and work on. This boat show there were two men whose dreams we want to share with you.

Derek Hatfield, solo ocean racer:

Derek Hatfield is now getting ready to set out on his next great adventure, the VELUX 5 Oceans single-handed round-the-world Race. And he sees his entry into this race as important not just because he will represent the many Canadians who support him but because he will also be doing something he believes in - taking an ecologically friendly approach to ocean racing.

He talked with great enthusiasm about having the chance to enter the race in the Eco 60 class, a class which transforms older Open 60s and gives them a new life as wind, solar and electric powered ocean race boats. This gives the racers sailing them the pleasure of racing in a way that is both less expensive and more ecologically friendly. Note - less expensive. It still costs a lot, and once again Derek is offering those who support his challenge the opportunity to travel round the world in spirit with him, with their name on his hull. And more to those who are able to contribute more.

As those who have had the chance to talk to him know, Derek is both a fine sailor and a gentleman, someone who never hesitates to share both his enthusiasm and his knowledge. He represents the best of Canada both in the water and in person. I hope you’ll be able to help support him - you can find all the information you need to learn more Derek, the race and the adventure here.

Captain Art Gaetan, the Sharkman, of Blue Shark Charters:

A great story teller, and passionate about sharks, Art Gaetan has built a substantial body of knowledge about these creatures, and managed to develop businesses that respect and teach others about the oceans, sharks, and their role in the ocean environment. And to have fun doing it.

Yes, he fishes for sharks, but every shark caught is tagged and released and every detail entered into a scientific database; every experience adds to the store of knowledge about their lives; and as we found out any experience may become the fodder for a great story.

His presentation was a mixture of facts, explanation and just plain great stories. The last story had us laughing so hard there were tears in our eyes. We are not fishers of sharks, but if you ever want to catch a shark, here's the man to help you do it.

Halifax Again, February 2010

2010-03-15T12:49:00.000-07:00

February in Halifax was a little warmer than normal, so they said. Warm or not, it was still a time when the fronts come through one after the other. February is a month when you’re glad you have a warm place to live in, and that your boat is as secure as you can make it.

And the boat show. One of the highlights of February in Halifax, for us, is the Halifax International Boat Show. It’s a chance to look at gear, attend any talks we’re interested in, possibly run into a few people who are doing the same thing. This year we were pleased to find a Canadian East Coast distributor for the electric motor we are going to buy - and to see the actual engine, up close and personal. We had a chance to learn a bit more about the heating system we’re planning to put in (Webasto) and see the heater itself as well; checked out a radio that would keep our iPod dry and safe while at sea; learned about the superwind wind generator; checked out a small butane stove, just because it looked like a good idea (but still not as safe as our Origo). We heard from Derek Hatfield about the work he is doing to represent Canadians in his next solo ocean race, the VELUX 5 Oceans Race. We were entertained by and learned from Captain Art Gaetan, who talked about sharks, shark fishing, and how he turned his passionate support for sharks into a multi-focused business. We found the Windbag Company of Nova Scotia, which makes bags out of old sails and old seat belts and other reclaimed material, and, an extra touch, includes in each bag the story of the boat whose sail went into the making of it.

Then to remind us that we should not get complacent, on the last Friday in February a strong easterly blew through, bringing rain, a high surge on a high tide, and gusts up to 135 km/h on the bridges across the harbour. In Purcells Cove, where the boat is, the wind and the surge brought waves up over the shore and into the area where the boats were stored. The water softened the ground, and the combination of wind and soft ground caused three boats to blow over. Into The Blue stayed safe on her cradle, but one of the sailboats in front of us blew over when a stand dug in, and came to rest with its mast resting on the powerboat beside it. The big docks that normally mark the outer edge of the marina, the only docks that stay in during the winter, were almost all blown off their moorings, and some of them badly damaged. The overall conditions might have been less severe but, thanks to the wind direction and the surge, the damage at the marina was worse than the damage there in Hurricane Juan. Nature is a very powerful force.

Now it’s the beginning of March, and the ice is melting out of the small lakes. The water birds are enjoying the change, feeding happily in the water, and in the mornings we can hear other birds singing, see them in the trees, on the wires, on the roofs. The days are growing longer. The Spring brush fire season has started. Time for us to start working on the boat...

2009 Ends, 2010 Begins

2010-03-15T12:06:00.000-07:00

November there was NaNoWriMo, the month of writing 50,000 words. December there was recovering from NaNoWriMo, and getting ready to travel to Toronto for Christmas then further south after.

Before we arrive, it always feels as if there will be lots of time to do everything we want to. After we arrive, we realize that the time we thought would stretch out blankly before us is actually already full of things to do. And this time it was also shorter than we had planned, as headed south early for family reasons.

These days I am thoroughly spoilt when we go on a road trip. I never renewed my driver’s license, thinking that I would not need for it (I forgot that even when not cruising plans are carved in jelly), so I have lots of time for watching the landscape as we pass through it. There is a lot of landscape on the drive from Halifax to Toronto. Happily it includes goodly amounts of beautiful landscapes, trees and hills lit by the sun, glimpses of water, stretches of city. In places you are reminded that nature is not always benign. There are the areas where trees charred by fire below sprout green above. Then there are other areas where landscapes roughly shorn of trees and plants remind us that our behaviour is not always benign either.

We paused overnight on the drive to Toronto on the outskirts of Quebec City. The room was warm, but when we woke in the morning it was achingly cold and the car was reluctant to start. A day later, in Toronto, we used their well thought out directions to find our way to the friends we were staying with. The days passed quickly, Christmas came and went. We saw more friends, but mostly we spent time with family. Then shortly after Christmas we set off to drive further south - earlier than we had planned, called by family business in Miami.

That journey too went well. We drove during the day and stopped overnight, and arrived there late and tired on New Year’s Eve. The next three days were relatively quiet - then we drove to Atlanta one day to take one of the family to catch a plane, stopped overnight with other family, and drove back the next. It helped a great deal to have a friendly place to lay our heads overnight in between drives!

January passed in and around Miami, taking care of business. The best that could be said about the weather there for several days was that it was warmer than Halifax or Toronto - we managed to get there in time for a record-breaking spell of cold weather. We walked many days; we enjoyed the brightness of the sun. Hearing news of storms in Nova Scotia, we followed the weather reports and paid attention to the direction of the wind, cheerful when the boat would be sheltered from the gusts and worrying when it would not. But all remained well there while we were away.

Our long drive back to Halifax was made much more pleasant because we visited with more friends along the way back. But we knew we were back in the land of snow and winter the fourth day along, when the snow no longer hid among the trees, where the shade lay, but glittered at us from the sides of the roads. When we pulled into the ploughed parking lot of a snowy rest stop that completed the confirmation.

Much of our driving was through hills and mountains, especially leaving the maritime provinces and on our route through New York and Massachusetts. Some of the scenery was breathtakingly beautiful, some of the drops awe-inspiringly precipitous. One morning we looked down on the fog rising out of a valley below, lit by sun above and shading the homes and fields and roads below.

We crossed back into Canada on the evening of our last day of driving, bent on getting back in time for Richard to have a day of rest before going back to work. That last day of driving was a long one, but we looked forward to being in our own place again. A day to readjust to life in Nova Scotia, and we edged back into our land-based routine again.

Some Pictures:

Haiti - A Way for Sailors to Help

2010-01-28T07:13:00.000-08:00

A quick note for all those who have not yet heard through other sources. OceansWatch North America and some of our cruising community are coming together to send help to Haiti as it tries to cope with the devastating earthquake and its aftermath.

OceansWatch is involved in helping put together a flotilla of vessels to carry needed aid to Haiti. All who can are invited to contribute, however they can. As news stories indicate, the need continues to be overwhelming, and every little bit anyone can contribute helps.

If you want to know more about their efforts, please go to their page describing what they are doing and how you can help.

You can find the information here.

Busy Times in October

2009-11-10T11:13:00.000-08:00

October flew past in a flurry of activity. Richard went out to work, I worked at home (home for the present, anyway), blogging and writing and making arrangements and generally getting ready to go to Toronto for my art show. In between we finalized arrangements for taking Into The Blue out of the water at Purcell’s Cove Marina. We agreed on a nice sheltered spot, since she will be out for a while, and a friend offered us a cradle there we could use. Things began to fall into place.

Richard went to work on modifying the cradle so that it would fit Into The Blue. He cut, moved supports, and generally tried to make it ready. Then they moved the cradle into place, and that revealed a few weaknesses that meant trips to the lumber store, for 4 x 4s and 2 x 4s to reinforce areas that had grown rotten. After that, it was time to think about getting the boat from Alderney Marina across to Purcells Cove.

With my art show coming up rapidly, and the date for climbing aboard the train to Toronto even closer, we chose the best weather day we could find to move the boat. Winds had been blowing out of the north and the east, strongly. This day it was cold but, in spite of grey clouds building to the south west, the winds were good and the water pleasantly smooth. Richard fired up the outboard, thinking of a smooth trip across the harbour and around the shallows off Point Pleasant Park to Purcells Cove. We left it to warm up, while we got the sails ready - just in case. We always get the sails ready, just in case.

The outboard went one step beyond warming upn -it overheated. Then it refused to start. Time was passing. The clouds were building. The choices were diminishing. We pulled the sails up and went. The sailing was good. We went to Plan C - Richard called ahead to say we were on our way without an engine, and what were our options?

The wind was from a good direction for sailing down the channel into the cove and to the marina. It seemed our option - the one we ended up using anyway - was to sail in to the dock, where someone would meet us and take our lines. The only snag there was when the main decided to jam and not come running smoothly down. We kissed the tyres on the outside docks and everyone stayed well clear of the boom as they took our ropes. Then they held us long enough for us to get the main lowered, handed us down to an empty slip and left us to tidy up and take down and put away our sails. With that accomplished I left Richard to finish haul-out preprations while I prepared for the show.

During that week he took the mast down, worked more on the cradle, and generally go the boat ready to be hauled. Then, while I concentrated on last minute preparations in Toronto, the boat was hauled in Halifax. By crane. Those who have boats will know the feeling of seeing your boat lift from the water hanging on two straps over water and then over rocky land... Richard got to witness the lift directly - I only had to look at the pictures afterward.

Putting the boat on the cradle revealed a few more spots in need of reinforcement, plus some slight miscalculations. More lumber, more cutting, more shoring up - but now as you read this Into The Blue is sitting on her cradle, waiting for us to erect a shed around her to protect us and boat from the worst of the weather. Meanwhile we’ve started doing more unloading of gear and bits. It’s still amazes us what we can fit into a thirty foot boat.

For me, the time in Toronto was a welcome interlude, a chance not just to present my art and ideas but a chance to see some family and friends, and share what I had been doing. The time was almost all spent preparing for my art show. There was a lot of walking, meeting - and finding refuge in a friends apartment, where I could do all the writing and printing and computer checking that needed to be done. As for the show - you can read more about it on my art blog. Here I’ll just say it was exciting, tiring, and rewarding and that I’ll be doing another one next year, with a whole new group of paintings and prints.

In the meantime prints from this show are available online now, at an online store I’ve created, and as with paintings and prints sold at the show part of the proceeds go to support artists working with teachers and children to improve access to and the quality of education in one of the poorer areas of Nicaragua. Some of you already know a lot about the show and how it went, and I would invite anyone else who’s interested to visit my art blog and store site.

So now the boat is resting on it’s much strengthened cradle; I am back and recovering from the burst of activity in Toronto. And the winds and weather of a Nova Scotia fall are coming and going, sometimes tempestuous, sometimes calm. We are looking ahead to weekend days of planning and measuring and remeasuring and discussing and boat work. On and off the boat.

Refit time...

Haulout pictures courtesy of Swedish Joe, who had his camera there.

September Wanderings

2009-10-09T08:01:00.000-07:00

The leaves are turning, and the temperature is getting colder. There has been a little time for exploring, but mostly we’ve been working, each of us in our own way. Richard did have to take a little time off after being injured (he’s recovered, pretty well), and that was a challenge. On the other hand, we have settled on a place to keep Into The Blue during her refit, thanks to friends in Alderney Marina, and expect to take the boat over to Purcells Cove in the next week or so. It will have to be in the next week or so, since I (Margaret) will be leaving soon for Toronto, and my much-looked-forward to get-together cum art show cum fundraiser and the haul-out date will be before I get back. Betwen haul-out (by crane) and event the weekend of October 24th/25th will likely be a somewhat nervous time.

We have taken a little time out to explore. We found interesting public art while walking along the Dartmouth waterfront. We dropped in on a car show that offered rides in old British cars (the proceeds went to charity) and swapped a few tales with a British Leyland Mini owner. One sunday we spent a little time talking to a very friendly group of model sailboat racers by one of the lakes in the middle of town. One even gave Richard the chance to sail in one of the races. It may not be the same as sailing our own boat, but he had fun. Something to do while the boat is being refit? All work and no play...

There are no pictures from the time spent with the model sailboat racers, but here are a few of the pictures we did take.

Halifax, Summer 2009

2009-09-11T11:03:00.000-07:00

After a warm, mainly sunny August the winds in Halifax have turned cooler again. Summer seems to have flown past. We’ve done a little sailing. We’ve gone to the Jazz Festival, and visited the tall ships on the waterfront. We’ve explored a little further on land than we could before - visited more of Dartmouth’s lakes, seen parts of St. Margaret’s Bay from the land side, instead of the water. We’ve found a very good Jamaican restaurant (Caribbean Twist - very good spicy hot jerk for those who like it, a range of curries and vegetarian dishes). We spent an enjoyable couple of weeks housesitting.

In the meantime we’ve been trying to make up our minds where to haul Into The Blue for the major refit that will take place over this winter and next summer - and hopefully not too much longer. And working hard at non-boat things. And planning and dreaming...

And of course we’ve taken some pictures - hope that you enjoy them.

A Little Bit of Shelburne, Nova Scotia

2009-06-05T11:39:00.000-07:00

The red building is the Shelburne Harbour Yacht Club (and the Osprey Arts Centre); the building next to it houses the area where the longboat we saw was being constructed.

We treated ourselves to a good meal at the Sea Dog Saloon - lots of food, nicely cooked! And it offers dock-and-dine facilities - just bring your dinghy to the dock - and free wi-fi so we could let people know where we were.

Sailboats were anchored off the waterfront, one from the Netherlands and another we guessed might have been British - both looked well-traveled.

As you look out you can see why the harbour is well-sheltered.

Back to Halifax, via Shelburne, Nova Scotia

2009-06-05T10:57:00.000-07:00

The seal that had watched us leave Martha’s Vineyard set the tone for our travels to and along Nova Scotia. Winds remained generally light, which gave us lots of time to see some of the creatures that shared the waters with us - and on this part of our journey we saw more in a couple of days than we had seen during all the days of our earlier travels. Between Martha’s Vineyard and Shelburne a large right whale came to the surface off our stern, lay at the surface, blew a couple of times, cast a beady eye our way, and opened his mouth before disappearing under the water. We next saw its spout off in the distance. The next day a pod of what looked like orcas appeared off our port side. Later, we saw the back and fin of what was probably a minke whale.

Dolphins came past the boat several times, mostly just cruising by but occasionally pausing to hunt around the boat. We saw many birds traveling, feeding or resting - black-headed laughing gulls, ring-billed gulls, storm petrels paddling their feet on the water as they fed, terns and others we have not yet identified. Every creature seemed to be on the move...

Between Shelburne and Halifax we saw more whales. At one point we found ourselves sailing where, temporarily, food was plentiful: birds circled overhead, dolphins hunted and a minke whale surfaced and disappeared ahead of and beside us. When creatures are feeding, they are so concentrated on getting food that where they are is not the best place to be, however interesting; we were glad to move away from them. In the still, windless hours of one very dark night we heard the breathing of and the sound of water lapping around what must have been a sleeping whale off our starboard side.

We always leave our depth sounder on, on the theory that its ping lets dolphins and whales know that we are there. Sources suggest running your engine at low rpm as well, but of course we had no engine to run. Still, it was very unlikely that any of them would deliberately pose a threat to us, and since we were proceeding slowly we were not exactly a threat to the creatures around us. Though, some of them being rather large, there was no doubt that we would prefer to avoid getting too close to them.

Since light wind dominated most days, our actual sailing consisted mostly of making every effort to keep the boat moving. Hour by hour we crept along, enjoying gusts and short periods of good winds when they came and hand-steering much of the time in between. Or, when steering was not really possible, at least trying to keep the boat pointing in the right direction. After the engine had swallowed sea water as we left Pollock Rip Channel we could not resort to using it even when the seas were almost flat. Nor did we want to risk fixing it at sea, since Richard needed to take the carburettor apart to dry it out, and any part that fell out there would likely be lost forever. We would be sailing in to our next harbour, but if our next harbour was Halifax that would not be a problem.

As we approached Nova Scotia another blow was threatening, with possible gale force winds. We were a day and a half of good sailing from Halifax, and the sailing was slow - so it could take much longer. Under the circumstances we decided to go in to Shelburne, somewhat nervous because we had no detailed charts of the harbour itself. Not that we planned to go in totally blind; we knew there was a yacht club in the harbour, and we had its phone number. We hoped to get at least some of the information we needed from them. As we approached we tried to radio, then phone the Shelburne Yacht Club. What we did not know was that it was not fully operational yet and not open every day. When we did manage to contact the club later in the morning we tried to find out about coming in; the young lady there did her best to be helpful, but she was clearly not a sailor.

However the fates were kind to us. As we came closer we saw a motor vessel off the shore, going in, so we radioed them and told them about our dilemma. The boat was Ohana; this was their first time here as well, but they were well equipped with a chart of the harbour on their chart plotter. They kindly agreed to keep an eye out and let us know what we needed to know to come in safely. We were lucky that there were two sailors on board, including the man on the radio, and they understood what we needed to know. They gave us good information, letting us know what buoys lay ahead and where we could expect to see them, and stayed in touch with us until we picked up a mooring ball off the yacht club. When we were in and had taken care of our immediate needs we went to find and thank them.

First order of business, and first phone call: checking in with Canada Border Services. Since we could not come to a dock, they came to us, courtesy of a boat from the Sea Dog Saloon. Then it was time to let family and friends know where we were, tidy up the boat, try to make ourselves look respectable, and go ashore. The Sea Dog Saloon offers dock and dine; we took the dinghy in to their dock and enjoyed a good and hearty meal while taking advantage of their free wi-fi (passworded). Then to the yacht club to check what facilities were available and pay for our mooring. the cost was very reasonable, at $15 a night with a weekly fee if we needed it, and there were showers for $2. Cruising sailors will be happy to know that they make their facilities available to anchored boats, for a daily or weekly fee, and there is laundry (extra cost) as well as showers. Since we paused for two nights, we also found out that Friday night was a busy, social night, with food and drink and lots of conversation.

We did not spend much time in Shelburne, but it was enough to be aware of the many historic buildings along the waterfront, and to be invited in to see a longboat, being built and well along the way to completion. We will probably see it sailing, since it will be visiting Halifax for the 250th anniversary of the Royal Navy Dockyard in mid-July. On our walk to the grocery store we found people in the town friendly, helpful and welcoming and quick to give directions and point out things we might find interesting. When we come back we’ll be able to visit some of the museums we walked past, and the waterfront art gallery and theatre, maybe even enjoy one of the living history re-enactments Shelburne is known for.

Apart from discovering a good harbour and pleasant place to visit, stopping gave us time to take apart and dry out the motor on the deck instead of over the water. Then we used it to leave again, motoring out of the shelter of Shelburne Harbour early on our second morning in light winds, past fish farms and fishing boats and fish and boat related businesses scattered along the coast. We had two long days of light winds as we moved toward Halifax. On our last day out, we had south west winds and fog, so we ended up approaching and entering Halifax Harbour in the fog and the dark, using radar and frequent chart positions to take us safely in. As we approached we checked in with Halifax Harbour Traffic, and kept a listening watch as they directed so that we could hear the movements of ships and a coast guard vessel as they went through the harbour and stay out of their way.

Once past McNab’s and George’s Islands we found ourselves tacking past oil rigs moored in the harbour. It was after midnight, and by now we were out of the fog, and grateful for the ambient light that made it easier to find Alderney Marina and pick up a mooring ball there. We were finally back in Halifax. As soon as we were secure we has something to eat (food had not been high on the agenda as we worked our way through the fog) before we fit in a few hours sleep. It seemed very little time had passed before we were waking up to start making phone calls and begin the process of picking up the threads of work and life on shore.

Now we are back, and it is time to decide on where, when and how to haul out and refit Into The Blue. Hopefully we’ll fit a little more sailing in before she joins us on dry land. We'll let you know.

Martha's Vineyard, Spring 09

2009-06-04T08:46:00.000-07:00

The ferry to Woods Hole, leaving past the moorings off Owen Park in Vineyard Haven.

This graceful stone building is the Bank of Martha's Vineyard, originally a harness and saddle shop.

The Stone Church, home to the Christ United Methodist Church, built in 1923.

Spring trees on the Vineyard.

Trees, a stone wall, a small building - some of the things we quite often saw as we walked around.

Chesapeake to Martha's Vineyard

2009-06-04T07:55:00.000-07:00

The trip from Chesapeake to Martha’s Vineyard started very nicely, with a good sail out of the Bay on a nice combination of wind and tide. After that things changed rather quickly - from sun and wind behind to fog and wind on the nose. Our first day out we traveled 80 miles through the water to get 42 miles closer to where we were going; our second day out was a little better. Then the wind went from light to gale force, and we sat out three hours of heavy weather hove to before we started sailing again. After that we had about twenty-four hours to get to an anchorage before the next big blow. We set our bow for Martha’s Vineyard, and coaxed as much speed as we could out of the boat while the winds were light, sailing through a foggy night.

The next morning found us approaching Martha’s Vineyard in rising wind, enough to carry us through the current if we stayed relatively close to shore. And we managed to talk to one of our friends there, Dennis, by phone, and he offered to see us into the shelter of Lake Tashmoo and let us use his mooring there, since his boat was on the hard. We were flying along (for us) going in and out of the fog, watching our lat/longs and charting them frequently to make sure we stayed in good water, when we came around the last point before the entrance to Lake Tashmoo and saw the lights of his truck beckoning us in.

He helped us through the entrance, signaling where the water was deepest. We came safely through the entrance, aimed for the red buoy we had been told to hug - and ran aground on the sandbank beside the channel. We put up all available sail to try and sail ourselves off, tilted the boat well over - and stayed stuck. Richard started to put our dinghy together, to take an anchor out into the channel. He was about halfway through when a small sailboat motored briskly away from a dock and towards us, and one of the young men on board offered to row our anchor out into the channel so we could try and winch ourselves off. We were in the middle of doing that when Dennis called to say he was on his way with a fisherman, to help us off. The cavalry was coming.

Things got a little confusing for a short while, for two tired people who were really looking forward to being able to rest. But Dennis and his fisherman friend rapidly sorted us out, and before we knew it we were on our way down the Lake and then securely tied to Dennis’ mooring. And then they wished us a good rest, and left us appreciating how well a difficult sail can end with just a bit of willing help.

We tidied up the boat (your boat takes care of you, you take care of it), made sure things were secure for the coming blow, finished putting the dinghy together and fell into bed, leaving other considerations for the next morning. Late the next morning, which was when we woke up. Communications were the first order of business, so we walked in to town to a cafe where we could use the internet, then met Dennis and went with him to enjoy an afternoon of hospitality and help.

We started the next week with a ride from the kind fisherman who had hauled us off the shoal. He took us most of the way to a welder who would fix our outboard bracket for us - it was showing signs of rust and wear. Whit Hanschka at Fine Metalwork took time from creating much more elegant pieces to help us. That took care of one necessary task - we walked in to Vineyard Haven that day and several others to take care of the rest of the things we needed to do. We wanted to make sure we had provisions on board and would be ready to go when we could, even as we enjoyed the shelter and beauty of Lake Tashmoo.

It was almost a week before a break in the weather seemed imminent. Since we needed to leave Lake Tashmoo on the right tide and the tide we would need to help us across the Sounds and through the Pollock Rip Channel would run at a different time, we dropped Dennis’ mooring the day before our possible departure and made our way to Vineyard Haven. We anchored outside the breakwater for the night and the next day we ran errands and did laundry while we waited to find out our chances of leaving. When we found out the next day that there would be one more blow to sit through we moved on to a mooring ball in the harbor, a much better place to be when winds blow out of the north. Picking up the mooring in windy weather using the outboard proved a bit of an adventure, but we finally got settled, ran our last errands, stowed the dinghy on board and got ready to leave the next day, after the weather had settled down again.

We left a little later than we should have the next morning. That may be why we did not quite make it through the Pollock Rip Channel, even after a good sail with fair winds and good current across the sound. Or it may be because the wind dropped before we could get through; or because a wave detached the gas line from the motor as we were using it to try to get past those last two channel markers. Without wind or engine we did what many sailboats have done before us - dropped an anchor, and waited for the wind and current to change. It took five hours - enough time to enjoy supper, clean up, have a chat and a rest. Then the current slacked off and the wind came up just enough for Richard to coax Into The Blue past those last two markers, and we were on our way to Nova Scotia.

A curious seal had watched our progress through the channel, popping up at odd times in different spots. We last saw it as we turned toward Nova Scotia.

Old Point Comfort and Hampton, VA

2009-06-03T10:53:00.000-07:00

The elegant Chamberlin Hotel, once a place for the rich and famous to visit and now re-created as an upscale retirement community.

A scene from the family life of soldiers at Fort Monroe recreated in the Casemate Museum.

Good advice? For some, anyway.

Hampton University buildings, on one side of the anchorage.

The Cousteau Society Museum, and the Crowne Plaza Hotel, on the other side of the anchorage.

Fishing boats docked off the fish plant share the shelter of Hampton with cruising, tour and local pleasure boats.

Visiting Old Point Comfort and Hampton, VA

2009-06-03T10:37:00.000-07:00

After a couple of days of pleasant, warm sailing, the good weather window we were enjoying threatened to close. Our choices for places to shelter this time: Chesapeake Bay or Cape May. We chose Chesapeake Bay - for one thing it was the perfect opportunity to meet one of the voices we had been talking to on the Cruiseheimers Net in the mornings, for another it was that much closer to where we were - and that much further away from where the actual bad weather would occur, further up the coast.

So we consulted our charts and chose our course to an anchorage in Old Point Comfort. We were close to the bay’s entrance when the wind dropped, leaving us trying to coax the boat to get closer while the tide and current were still favorable. Finally we had to admit it was either take many more hours that we wanted to to get there, or turn once again to our trusty motor. So we started our motor and travelled slowly into and up the bay, keeping an eye out for ships and barges as we went and for any large power boats creating large wakes that might swamp the engine (Not every large powerboat is so thoughtlessly driven - so this is a good time to thank those skippers who are considerate and knowledgeable enough to pass smaller boats and sailboats gently). In the end it was the powerboat wakes that were the greatest problem, and at one point we were not sure that our engine had survived one of its dunkings. But it started again and kept on going, taking us in to anchor outside the channel across from the Old Point Comfort Marina.

Old Point Comfort is home to Fort Monroe, the third oldest continuously operating military installation in the United States and site of the largest stone fort in the U.S. Visiting is an interesting experience. The marina is for military and Depart of Defense personnel, but the boat ramp, fuel dock and restaurant, as well as the Fort and the surrounding area are open to the public (anyone wanting to enter by road must show photo identification). Being anchored there gave us a good opportunity to visit the fort and its Casemate Museum, and we walked past the elegant Chamberlin Hotel, now reborn as an independent living apartment community, along the seawall and along quiet streets with nicely maintained historic buildings. We enjoyed the Casemate Museum, which presents the history of the fort using a nice variety of exhibits, and were lucky enough to hear part of the presentation to a tour of military personnel. There’s always something interesting to be learned from a knowledgeable guide.

We enjoyed visiting with our friends, who helped us get around and find what we needed. Then they were off to do other things and the wind and weather were changing. We decided to move to more sheltered anchorage in Hampton, across from the Hampton Public Piers, between Hampton University and downtown. The last time we had been there it was crowded - it was far from crowded when we arrived, though the anchorage did start to fill up the next day. We found ourselves a good spot just outside the channel, and settled in for a few days.

A trip ashore showed us that things were much as they had been last time we were here. Free wi-fi on the docks, access to washrooms (free) and showers (payment required), and friendly helpful staff. Happily we had been to the grocery store with one of our friends - there are only convenience stores close by. The laundromat was a brisk walk away, across the bridge by the anchorage; we shared it with several Hampton University students, who helped us figure out the oddities of some of the machines. There was not enough time to linger around the art galleries or re-visit the Cousteau Museum - or to visit the Virginia Air and Space Center, or explore further. So yet again - we want to go back when we have more time. And before we go we’ll download the iPod tours the city has developed, which are an interesting concept and well-suited to the kind of exploring we like to do.

Laundry and grocery done, we were ready when Herb of Southbound II said there might be another weather window. Early in the morning on our third day we started the engine, picked up the anchor, and set off out into the bay, heading seaward again.

April in Beaufort, NC

2009-06-02T11:51:00.000-07:00

Large motor yachts were heading north, stopping at the Beaufort Town Docks on the way.

Spring brings a lushness to the trees and plants along the roads.

Spring flowers...

The Beaufort dinghy dock where we tied our dinghy up to go to shore, and a little beach where small boats are beached and launched.

Looking out from the boat over the anchorage at sunset.

For those who are interested: Our trusty little engine on its bracket. You can see where the bracket that allows the engine move up and down is attached to the deck behind the cockpit; the tube coming forward from the bracket helps to keep the engine in place when it is running.

Belle Isle SC to Beaufort NC

2009-06-02T11:36:00.000-07:00

We left Belle Isle when the tide was high and the current low, following the marked channel from the marina into Winyah Bay. The outboard, on its unusual bracket, functioned well enough to get us the nine miles down Winyah Bay to the outlet, though we did have to take evasive action to make sure that it did not submerge, drown, and stop when the occasional large power boats failed to slow down, leaving us to deal with the high wake it left behind. We put our sails up, just in case our little motor was affected, but all went well if slowly.

Finally we sailed out through the inlet, unfurling the jib and pulling the engine up to the rail as the swells grew larger and set our course for Beaufort, North Carolina. Dolphins came to visit us on our second day out, hunting with concentration around the boat, powerful and graceful. A bird cried, loon-like, intermittently through our second night out. The first night was full of stars, the moon only a late rising sliver; the second night most of our light was the ambient light from the shore, reflecting off the clouds.

The weather window looked as if would last a couple of days, and it almost did. We were either on a broad reach or sailing with the wind behind us all the way - a beautiful couple of days of sailing, until we got close to the Beaufort inlet. Then, just to remind us that sailing has its challenges as well as its rewards, we were hit by a squall as we waited outside the inlet for the right conditions to enter. We were hove to waiting for the tide to change when a big blast of wind and heavy shower of rain hit. They passed and shortly after, anticipating the comforts of shelter, we got ready to enter the channel.

The tide and wind were still opposing each other as we started to sail in, and in the outer part of the channel lumpy, sometimes breaking seas rose behind us. To one side the water grew rapidly shallower, and the water on that side rose in breaking waves as it approached the coast. We stayed as close to the other side of the channel as we could, taking advantage of the smoother water there even as the sound of surf echoed in our ears, and sailed on into the flat water between the outlying islands. Then we could drop the engine again, douse our sails, and motor slowly in to the anchorage at Beaufort.

The wind we were coming in to let pass came in with us, so we dropped one anchor, then drifted back with the tide and dropped another. With lessons learned from the last time we anchored here, we used our Danforth with rope rode for the second anchor because it was easy to check for twisting and easy to undo and untwist if necessary. Then we settled in to get a little sleep after tidying ourselves and the boat. Except for checking in with the Southbound II net, the rest of the day was a lazy day - time to rest and relax before we started our round of in-the-anchorage jobs.

After our time off the boat and the installation of the engine and its bracket this part of the journey was like a shakedown cruise. A look at the way the trip had gone suggested a few improvements that needed to be made. A bumper for the outboard bracket that would keep it well aligned and at the same time protect the hull was highest on the list. Richard fashioned that one using rope (always a lot of that around) and tape. Then there were the bow lights to be fixed - we had checked them before leaving, but found under way that they were only functioning intermittently. Then there were the few things that had moved and needed to be better stowed.

On shore, we returned to Taylor’s Big Mug in search of coffee (fair-trade, and very good) and wi-fi. Right across from the Beaufort Town Docks, this is a great place to spend some time, especially on a rainy day. In season they sell tasty lunchtime sandwiches freshly made to order, and there are games, books, magazines and papers to entertain yourself with on a rainy day. Brochures, notices, newsletters and cards are a good source of local information, and you can pick up “This Week” if you are interested in local events. With a little persuasion they might even start a book swap that cruisers could take advantage of. Then we did laundry in the laundromat behind the General Store - if you can have a favourite laundromat, this is one of ours. And of course walked up to the Piggly Wiggly for groceries.

Beaufort at this time of year seemed a little quieter than the last time we passed through. We saw school groups touring the harbour, visiting the North Carolina Maritime Museum and exploring the waterfront - historic sites are never very far away here. Some cruising boats came and went, most passing through on their way up the ICW, many of them headed home after a winter in warmer climes. They were able to keep travelling, but since our little engine was not meant to push us for hours along rivers and canals we stayed put and waited for our next weather window. While they traveled we enjoyed Beaufort, revisiting Taylor’s Big Mug and walking along Front Street past the stores and restaurants and grand old houses. Fewer customers in the cafe and for sale signs suggested that the recession has affected life here too, but the sunshine and warmer temperatures were bringing people out to enjoy the waterfront, some of the local tour boats were active, and a quick check of the free weekly events listings showed that there was lots going on. And local boaters and sailors were active, including one friend who blazed past us in his Laser dinghy on a windy day.

Birds were active as well, feeding and calling. We passed seabirds feeding in the tumbling surf on our way in, and saw pelicans floating where the water grew quieter. Our first morning we woke to a chorus of bird voices from a group of small birds which had congregated on the lifelines of our boat. Dolphins came in to the anchorage to prospect for food, and Richard saw a turtle following the anchor chain up when he went to check the anchor. Wild horses could be seen feeding on seaside grasses on the islands that shelter the anchorage. In town the trees were in leaf and flowers bloomed.

But we had to keep moving on, and as soon as a window of good weather offered we pulled our anchors up and set out again. Our little engine soldiered on through wakes from sport fishing boats racing out the inlet, propelling us out till we could lift it from the water and start sailing again. Next stop - Chesapeake Bay.

Back to Winter, Halifax NS

2009-06-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

One of those days when ice-coated trees glitter in the sun.

Looking out across Porters Lake, snow on the trees and ice on the water...

Running water - a sign that Spring is on the way? A person could hope!

More snow and ice, and trees waiting for Spring - this time Lake Banook in Dartmouth.

Cold and windy...

After Belle Isle - Life Off Into The Blue

2009-06-01T10:09:00.000-07:00

With Into The Blue safely at the dock in Belle Isle Marina, we traveled south to Florida, our original destination, and time with family. The journey was an interesting one, the first time we had traveled by Greyhound and a learning experience all in itself. Many different kinds of people travel on the bus, and the one thing they have in common is the desire to get to where they are going without spending too much money. Young and old, people going to jobs, leaving lost jobs, returning to family, just going somewhere else, dressed up and dressed down, all traveling together for hours more or less comfortably. There were conversations, jokes, part of a movie shared until someone's laptop ran out of battery. There was the bus driver with the beautifully manicured nails holding conversations on her handsfree phone; the one who had to stop at McDonald's to grab dinner; the new driver wanting to show his authority. There was the time the bus went on to the rumble strips by the highway and every dozing passenger woke up to call out to the bus driver, voices coming from every part of the bus. We arrived at our destination tired, grubby and happy to have made it.

Mid-January saw us driving up from Miami, Florida to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Not quite the way we had planned to return, a road trip in a car not quite ready for winter driving, but we made it safely. Friends to stay with, along the way and when we got to Halifax, and work to go back to, eased our return and made it possible to start planning how to bring Into The Blue back to Halifax as well. We had a little time, a couple of months of snow and cold to plan and gather what we needed before the weather would be warm enough to bring the boat back. Timing revolved around the need to move her from the marina during April and making sure we had the resources we needed.

This meant spending a part of winter in Halifax. So what does a boater do in the winter, when they are far away from the boat they usually live on? They go to the nearest boat show, of course. One of the pleasures of going to a boat show is coming across interesting new things you have not seen before. The Halifax Boat Show may not be huge, but it does have its share of thing that catch the eye.

The first thing we noticed was an anchor recovery system called Anchor Rescue. Every cruiser who’s spent much time on the hook knows that awful moment when the bow of the boat dips and the anchor that should be coming up nicely refuses to budge. This is most likely to happen in the kind of water you have no desire to dive into, or when the anchor is at a depth beyond the range of your lungs.

AnchorRescue is the kind of system we wished we had had, would like to have, in exactly those kinds of circumstances. It has two very appealing features. First it is very simple - part of the system is on your anchor and ready when you need it, the other part is easily stored and lowered down the anchor rode only when needed - and the whole thing has been designed to be easy to use.

A slider around the anchor chain is tethered to the crown of the anchor, and the chain that tethers it held out of the way with wraps. When you need to pull on the crown of your anchor to release to release it, you simply slide the weighted retriever down down your anchor chain until it engages with the slider and pull. The slider moves up the anchor chain, breaking the ties that hold the tether out of the way, pulls on the crown - and voila, you’re lifting the head of the anchor away from whatever is obstructing it. Neat. They have a web site where you can learn more, if you’re interested.

The next thing to catch our eye was a fibreglass, semi-translucent propane tank, sitting on display in Capt. Shrink’s booth. We don’t have propane on board, hope not to - but we were curious. Seems the price is midway between those for steel and aluminum cylinders. Most attractive features? No more corrosion worries, very long-lasting and you can see the level of propane inside the tank. Another product we found interesting, if rather pricey for our budget, is the Torqueedo folding electric outboard with an integrated battery. It looks very easy to use - you can simply stick it on the back of your dinghy or small boat and not have to worry about carrying/storing a separate battery or dealing with connections.

Then there were products we had seen before but took time to take a look at again, like the Webasto heaters - definitely a step up from our present fireplace, and something we are seriously considering in these cold waters. And the Klepper folding kayaks from Germany, beautifully and ruggedly designed. If only we could think of a good reason we needed one. Then we stopped to look at and ask questions about the inboard diesels on display - the boat show being a great place to compare and contrast and ask questions.

The bad part? The show reminded us there’s more than one reason they say a boat is a hole in the water into which you throw money...

Pictures from Beaufort, North Carolina

2009-03-03T07:26:00.001-08:00

The moorings and anchorage in Beaufort North Carolina.

Wood work with character - we passed this display whenever we walked to and from the Piggly Wiggly grocery store.

Taylor's Big Mug on Front Street, a popular spot for cruisers and locals. A welcoming feel, interesting art, good coffee, great sandwiches and free wi-fi.

At the dock - the view from the porthole.

November 2008, Part 1: Cape May

2009-03-03T07:21:00.000-08:00

You could say that November 2008 was in interesting month, on our calendar at least. But we did not know that when we set out.

We finally had the right weather window to leave Martha’s Vineyard, so we dropped our mooring and left the anchorage on a cool, blustery day, picking up the tide as we sailed down the eastern side of the island and towards Cape May. Winds eased then built again as we travelled, and we found ourselves preparing to enter the channel with reefed main and furled jib on a windy, grey day. Even the waters looked grey.

We sailed in as a coast guard cutter was leaving, keeping well to the right of the channel to allow it to pass before we tried to find a space in the many sport fishing boats cruising through to cross to the anchorage.

There were more boats there than we had anticipated, and manoeuvring was not as easy as normal with the mainsail reefed, but we dropped anchor on the inside of the other boats there, and then for safety we dropped another. The night passed without incident, and many of the other boats left come morning. We sat tight, waiting for the bad weather we knew was coming.

The day was spent as it often is, doing a bit of mending this and fixing that. The first night would be quiet, so we picked our second anchor up and swung gently to the first through the night. As the wind picked up the next day we dropped it again. Initial weather reports predicted no more than 30 knots, so we were watchful but not anxious.

As the day passed the wind built. A couple of other boats that had been anchored moved in to marinas. By the time we knew that the winds would be closer to 40 or 50 knots there were only three of us in the anchorage.

Late in the afternoon we noticed another boat moving, and hailed him on the radio. He re-anchored further out. We stayed put - for a while. Darkness was falling when we found ourselves moving too - towards the rocks between the two old jetties off the coast guard facility.

We scrambled. Foul weather gear pulled on but not done up, I worked the jib, trying to keep us off the rocks. Richard on the bow tried to get the anchors up. He got one up; the remaining one was still holding us every time we tried to move away from the rocks, and dragging every time we were pulled around toward them. The anchor was almost off the bottom when we found ourselves too close to be able to sail off.

With the keel rubbing the rocks on the bottom, Richard grabbed the ... pole and held the stern off the rocks. Inside on the radio I could hear every time we touched. I talked to the coast guard - they talked to us, seemingly with no sense of the urgency we felt. All we wanted or needed was to get off those rocks - where we would go after that was something we didn’t have time to consider.

The coast guard and I worked our way through the script - how many on board, any children, any health problems, did we have life jackets on, were we taking on water. Not yet, I said. The boat we had talked to earlier came on to plead our case for immediate help. The coast guard announced that they would have a team there in ten minutes. Then they announced that of course they would be there to help us, but were not allowed to help pull our boat off the rocks. In desperation, I called SeaTow.

It took what felt like forever for them to get there. In the meantime someone on the road that passed right by us asked if we had called in. Shortly after that three young coast guard men arrived, shone a bright light on us, and assessed our situation. One, in the water, checked for visible damage. Then, to our great relief, he came on board and helped Richard hold the boat off the rocks while I stayed at the radio. That act of kindness certainly helped us that night. After that it was a matter of listening to the keel bump and waiting for SeaTow.

The young men on SeaTow wasted no time once they got there. We clipped a line to our anchor chain, and in short order we were moving off the rocks. What a relief. Then it was time to figure out where to go. The wind was gusting at at least 40 knots, it was dark, we and the inside of the boat were rain-soaked. We needed a marina, but had no clue where we could be towed in to. We told them the situation, and left the final decision about where to go up to them.

They towed us away from the anchorage through a bridge and to a dock we could barely see. Then they spent long minutes trying to wrestle our boat to the dock against wind and tide. By the time they were done we had six lines tied to different points. Then it was time to sign papers, arrange payment and try to find a way to sleep. The next day it would be time to actually see where we were.

The wind was still blowing the next morning, pushing the boat hard away from the dock. The dock was part of a small and friendly marina, Two Mile Landing, off a quiet channel, which happened to have space. It was officially closed for renovations, but we were able to stay and, even more important, we were able to plug in and use our electric heater to try and dry ourselves and our clothes and our boat out. And there we stayed for another day.

When it was time to leave we decided it would be prudent to take another tow to get past the bridge, which we could now see was narrow. We arranged a tow for slack, and left the next day to take advantage of the next weather window. Our destination, so far as we could decide on a destination when sailing, was Chesapeake. There we might be able to make more progress with the boat engine - nothing for it in Cape May - and also meet one of the couples from the Cruiseheimer’s Net.

A digression: The Cruiseheimer’s Net is a morning net which unites cruisers up and down the east coast and beyond. As well as friendly greetings, useful bits of news and friendly announcements, this group helped us as much as they could with advice and ideas. You can find them on SSB radio at 08:30 US Eastern time, on 6.227.0 USB during the winter and 8.152.0 USB during the summer.

Pictures from Belle Isle, South Carolina

2009-03-03T07:00:00.001-08:00

Looking out from the Belle Isle Marina restaurant toward Winyah Bay on a quiet day. Sometimes the view included boats on their way south traveling along the ICW.

Looking past the pond behind the marina, on one of those sunny day when the light glitters on the water. You can barely see one of the trees that grows out of the pond itself.

There are houses half-hidden in the trees. At night we would see their lights, illuminating them and making their presence more obvious than during the day.

Another still day, looking out of the marina toward Winyah bay.

November 2008, Part 2: Beaufort, NC to Belle Isle

2009-03-03T06:55:00.000-08:00

Between Cape May and Beaufort lie the Hatteras and Frying Pan Shoals. All shoals must be treated with respect, and we are always glad when we thread our way between one more shoal and the Gulf Stream. So when we found ourselves off Chesapeake with light winds from the south turning to stronger winds from the north west - not the best winds to enter Chesapeake Bay as we had planned - we decided to use the opportunity to work our way past these two.

Except for a brief brush with the steep waves on the edge of the Gulf Stream as we skirted Hatteras we had good sailing to the Beaufort channel. We had looked at the chart, and decided that with the wind from the direction we had there would only be one tricky part to navigate and we should be able to sail in handily at slack. Our timing was good, and we sailed into the inlet and along the channel - watched as we tacked quickly back and forth through the one tricky area by an interested group standing on some docks outside what looked like a waterside condominium.

We sailed into the anchorage, and found much of the anchoring area off the channel filled with moorings. Fortunately for us one boat that had been anchored was leaving. The sailor aboard called to us that his was a good spot, so we sailed further up the channel while we waited for him to raise his anchor and take his leave. We should have been warned when we saw that his chain was well wrapped around his anchor, and that it took several good shakes to work the chain free.

We dropped our anchor close to where his had been. Then, knowing that another blow was on the way, we put out our second anchor down current. When all seemed well we assembled and offloaded the dinghy and rowed to the dinghy dock before the afternoon grew too late. We needed to buy bread and find the laundry, showers and wi-fi we had been told were nearby. As we walked back to the dinghy dock along the town docks we saw a boat we knew, Maggy Fields and found our friend Gord aboard. For those who might not know, Gord was the previous owner of our boat, and buying our beautiful boat from him came with the added bonus of finding a good friend.

Those first days in Beaufort were busy. We sat happily on the hook, going ashore to try and find parts for the engine, do shopping, shower, do laundry, visit the Taylor’s Big Mug coffee shop and enjoy their coffee and wi-fi access. We had a very nice lunch there with Gord. Then we met other cruisers in the nice, clean laundry behind the General Store who had also run aground in Cape May, the weekend before we did. We exchanged tales and experiences, as everyone talked we came to the conclusion that the area we had anchored in should not be considered a good anchorage for bad weather conditions - anchors seem to hold well close to the channel, but not closer to the jetties and shore.

As in Cape May, so in Beaufort. We noticed that there were places where anchors held well, and others where they did not. In one blow we noticed a boat next to us going in circles - it looked as if the anchor was dragging and catching, dragging and catching. We put out a third anchor to hold ourselves out of that boat’s way until the sailor aboard decided to let the rest of the blow pass in the shelter of the town marina. As it turned out, that was probably a very good thing.

When the next weather window - a very short one - appeared we decided to move on, and try reach the Masonboro Inlet. Gord was planning to leave the same day, and we hoped to meet him again at Wrightsville Beach. Before slack that afternoon we began to get ourselves ready to go. We took up the third anchor we had put out, then took our dinghy apart and stowed it on board. Then we did what we normally do - started to take up our second anchor before we put the mainsail up to sail off. Problem was, as we discovered after, we were actually pulling up both anchors at the same time.

We thought the boat newly anchored not far from us was dragging. They saw quickly that we were the one dragging, and they also saw why. Our anchor chains were well-wrapped around each other where they could see them but we could not. They had probably become tangled around each other when the tide, wind and current were low and the boat circled around the slack chains. We are very grateful to the sailors on Sojourn for helping us through what happened next . They took our lines and helped us raft alongside; then they helped us untangle the anchor chains and get the anchors up and stowed before walking us around their boat to a position where we could sail off. We had no main up, and were too close to raise it safely, so it was a matter of letting go the jib and pulling in the sheets at the right time. With Richard at the helm and me handling the jib and sheets and doing a little fending off, we were underway.

But more was to come. Looking back, it seems we just weren’t meant to leave that day. We still had to get the main up, which meant turning into the wind with the jib flapping. Then, main up, we tried to pull off the wind so we could sail down the channel and the jib sheet fouled on our whisker pole, stored along the lifelines. We got that free, got a little speed up, and tried to tack away from the shore - and the jib sheet fouled again, this time in the mooring chock. Then the jib wrapped wrong way around the front stay and became immovable. There just was not enough space or time to free the jib by furling it, free up the sheet and get sailing again - we went gently aground between two private docks.

Now what? There was a man working aboard a large power boat at one of the docks - someone else whose help we really appreciated - and he took time to help us get a line first to the boat he was on and then to the dock that boat was attached to. With his help we were able to winch the boat back into deeper water and then to the head of the dock. Slack was now well past, so we sat there while we considered our situation and our next move. And radioed Gord to wish him a safe voyage and let him know that we would not be leaving that day.

After some talk and consultation with the man who had helped us Richard hopped off the boat and went to see the owner of the dock. He found a former sailor and cruiser who was happy to let us stay there while we made yet another stab at fixing the engine as well as some of the damage our anchor rollers had sustained when we were towed off the rocks in Cape May. Once again we worked away and waited through heavy weather and light days for the next weather window.

The next several days were spent talking to other sailors and various businesses as we tried to track down parts - we found the folk at Coastal Diesel Service very helpful. And becoming better acquainted with the very helpful staff at the town dock. Beaufort is one of those towns that is good to cruisers, where many people are both welcoming and helpful. A wonderful place to visit - but with the weather becoming colder not a place to linger. So we kept the boat stocked, Richard worked on the engine and even got it to run for a while, and we kept an eye on the weather...

It was close to the end of November by the time the next weather window came along. The engine was not functioning reliably, so we opted for a tow out of the inlet when the tide was slack. We called a little ahead of time and the towboat arrived before we were quite ready, in spite of being asked to wait - which left us scrambling to finish our last minute jobs and increased the time we had to pay for. Then we were towed out, past the shoals we had not had time to look at on the way in and a small fishing boat that refused to clear the channel and forced us toward shallow water. Finally we were out of the inlet, free of our tow, putting up sails, and coaxing the boat away from the coast in light north winds, finally under way again.

The winds did not stay out of the north for very long. What should have been a short sail to Winyah Bay stretched out for an extra day and a half as we sailed into light winds on the nose. On our last night the rain descended as Richard sat in the cockpit, coaxing the boat to keep moving forward. As day dawned and we approached the inlet - having missed another slack time we could enter on - he was wet, tired and very cold. We hove-to and took a little time to consider our options.

Entering with too little wind to counteract the current was not one of them. This was the calm before the storm, and another system was on its way - so continuing down the coast to the next inlet we could enter did not look like a good option either. Finally we decided to request a tow in and spend a few days at a marina while we considered what to do next.

We chose Belle Isle marina out of one of the guides we had with us, mostly because it sounded like a good place for a smaller boat. As it turned out, it was also the closest to the inlet entrance, even though it was more than an hours tow away. Best of all, it turned out to be a beautiful, hospitable spot, with a marsh full of wildlife and birds and a gently rolling, treed landscape, and a dock master who was both efficient and kind. We had found a good place to pause and reflect.

It was now the end of November, and we had hoped to be in Miami already. But weather windows for travelling down the coast had been short and not always suitable for a boat which was travelling down the outside and having to choose very carefully which inlets to use. The month had been an expensive one, what with tows, paying salvage for being towed off the rocks and searching for engine parts. As we warmed and dried out the boat we talked about where to go from here.

For family reasons we still needed to get to Florida, and do it before Christmas. For financial reasons we needed to earn some more money. After phone calls and consultations we booked seats on the Greyhound to Fort Lauderdale, and arranged for the boat to stay safely tucked in at Belle Isle. The plan: A month or so in Florida, and then back to Nova Scotia to work, with a month off in April to return to South Carolina, mount a bracket and outboard to use as temporary auxiliary power, and bring the boat back to be hauled and refitted in Nova Scotia.

Massachusetts Pictures, October 2008

2008-11-24T09:10:00.000-08:00

Boats on moorings off Ten Pound Island in the outer harbor of Gloucester, Massachusetts.

In front of the brown house he used to live in is this engaging statue of the artist Fitz Henry Lane, internationally known for his seascapes. The statue was created by Al Duca.

Here you can see a mixture of many elements of Gloucester, a proud fishing port which also welcomes cruisers and sailors and is home to all manner and size of boats.

Along the road between Lake Tashmoo and Vineyard Haven on Martha's Vineyard there were definite signs that summer was ending and cooler weather was on its way...

A schooner is being refitted at the Gannon and Benjamin boatyard - the same one where we were able to get scraps for wood for burning in our fireplace. As well as doing repairs they build beautiful wooden boats here.

Richard walking along the beach by the moorings in Vineyard Haven on a cool day. Dinghies and other small boats line the beach above the high tide line.

October 2008, Visiting Massachusetts

2008-11-24T08:47:00.000-08:00

We left Halifax twice. The first time was already later than we had planned to leave, but as usual the work we had done had taken longer than planned. So we were eager to go and left on the first good forecast, casting off with help from friends and setting off across and out of the harbour in brisk winds. By the middle of the day the winds that had been forecast to be behind us were still heavy and on the nose, and we were beating into cold seas. Since things were not improving, and we were still within range of Halifax we turned back and sailed up the North West Arm to drop anchor for the night.

The next morning we set off again, hoping that the forecast for more favourable winds was right. We did not worry unduly about not being able to coax the engine into life that cold morning, since it has never been fond of starting cold. Eager to set off, we sailed off the anchor and down the Arm. Bob on Sprig met us leaving the Arm, and we had a brief chat; then it was away down the coast headed for our first port in the US, Gloucester Massachusetts. That first day went well, and so did the next - it was the third day out we ran into a nasty storm which kept us hove to and then on the drogue for a while. We were very grateful then our new hatch Steve at Dura-Tech had helped us make. Even when the winds blew hard and the waves were high no water came in to the cabin. During the storm we hunkered down and stayed dry and waited. Then, as often happens, the weather cleared and we had a beautiful sail the rest of the way to the outer harbour at Gloucester.

Richard had taken a look at the engine on the way, and we had reluctantly come to the conclusion that it was not going to start without new parts. Not a problem, really, since we were a sailboat; we would just look for parts on the way down and fix it when we could. Gloucester, it turned out was not the place to find parts for our unusual engine, but we stayed long enough to see nearby family and enjoy looking around the town.

We checked in with help from the harbourmaster on duty, who came to pick us up and took us back to our boat on that first trip in, showing us the safe passage and the hazards along the way. He was happy to help us on a quiet day... We met the representative from Customs and Immigration at the Harbor Master’s Office, and spent a couple of hours ashore trying to get used to the feel of solid ground under our feet before we went back to the boat.

The next day we found the Chamber of Commerce and information on where to find such essential things as the laundromat and groceries. Then we wandered around, and found that this was one of those towns that are small enough to walk to just about everything and one where people were happy to help if you asked for directions. That sense of acceptance of visitors increased when we found free wi-fi - and someone who was excited to have us use it. The air was cool, but the reception was warm. Then we heard a forecast for winds that would make being in the outer harbour uncomfortable. We sailed away planning to come back a little earlier in the year the next time we passed through....

From Gloucester we sailed to Martha’s Vineyard, to see friends we had met in Antigua. With no engine we did not take the more traditional route through the Cape Cod Channel, but sailed on to the sounds around Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard through Pollock’s Rip; inside we dropped anchor for a while to wait for a more favourable tide to continue our travels on. Currents here are strong. and must be taken into account. The tide turned in time for us to be able to sail to Vineyard Haven. We dropped anchor outside the harbour as dark was falling and stayed there overnight. The next morning, with the wind shifting out of the north and the water growing rougher, our friend Dennis contacted us from shore to tell us about entering Lake Tashmoo and where we could drop anchor inside it. A short wait for a favourable tide, and then we were able to ride tide and winds to and into Lake Tashmoo, where we found very good shelter a mile’s walk away from Vineyard Haven. And we certainly appreciated the shelter when the fronts came blowing through.

For a while Lake Tashmoo was the centre from which we explored. We did some of those essential things - reactivated our US cell phone, to make it easier to call in to Customs when we moved to a new place, found the shipyard that would let us take wood scraps for our fireplace so we could stay warm, found the grocery store and tried to find the part we needed for the engine. Dennis was our guide to local resources, and even spent a day driving us to the laundromat, and to get more wood, (and gave us a piece of wood to replace one that had been bruised on the way down) and to his house for a short visit with his lovely Julie.

We enjoyed our walks in to town, along leafy streets where we sometimes passed wild turkeys feeding in the gardens of houses, past the big church on the corner down to the shops along the Vineyard Haven Harbor. But we could not stay in our cosy anchorage. We needed to leave Lake Tashmoo on south winds, and we needed north winds to continue our travels south. So we needed to be in Vineyard Haven. As luck would have it we found ourselves mooring free in the harbor during a grace period, after a half day of waiting patiently in Lake Tashmoo for the predicted wind shift, which had to coincide with the right tides and currents for us to get out... Sailing in these waters without an engine requires patience and discipline.

From the mooring we could easily walk along the beach to the grocery store, boat yard and marine store, and to the ferry terminal where we could use the free wi-fi. Everything was close by. We stocked up on food and wood and charcoal, and got ready to leave when Herb of Southbound II declared that we had a window.

Finally the time came, and we slipped the mooring and headed south for Cape May, and further adventures.

Pictures of Late Summer 2008

2008-10-03T05:12:00.000-07:00

On a wet August day, one of many, this was the view looking out from our cabin. Water, water everywhere...

Taking a pogo stick to new heights at the Halifax Busker's Festival down on the waterfront.

Sometimes it takes a little help from the audience to keep things stable. These are the Aerial Angels, based in the U.S., performing at the Buskers Festival.

A testimony to the foolish ways of birds? Hopefully they're not thinking of nesting in the tyres on this tug...

Our new nesting dinghy takes its first trip on the water. It floats!

The ducks have been feeding and feasting on the rich growth on the poles and floats - and sometimes boats - in the marina.

A view from the porthole as the sun goes down behind the MacDonald Bridge.

Getting ready to move on again, with our new main hatch and doors in place, and our nesting dinghy strapped down in front.

August 2008, And The Rain Came

2008-10-03T05:02:00.000-07:00

August was a wet month. Even the weather experts agreed it was the wettest August in many years. So wet that farmers lost crops and outside workers lost time and we had many delays in the work we had planned to do on the boat. Between rain and fog the damp seemed to get in and linger everywhere, and we dried the boat out every opportunity that offered. But there were good days sprinkled through the wet ones.

There was Natal Day. Festivities began on Thursday July 31 and were supposed to continue through a four day weekend. On August 1st we enjoyed the Joel Plaskett Emergency from the boat, and looked forward to the activities scheduled for the rest of the weekend. But then rain shortened the talent show and dampened the festivities that was scheduled for Alderney Landing. That evening the fog descended before the fireworks could rise, and the weather remained damp and foggy for the next few days. Which meant that we missed the fireworks from the bridge for the second year in a row. Maybe next year? In the intervals between rainy weather people enjoyed activities on the Macdonald Bridge, runners of all ages completed the Natal Day road race, and we glimpsed the Natal Day Parade as it too crossed the bridge. The weekend was like the month - wet - and people did as they usually do - enjoyed what they could, in spite of the weather.

The weather was a little better for the Halifax Buskers Festival, and we went across on the ferry to check things out there one relatively sunny day. Areas were set up along the waterfront with “stages” and in some places areas for people to sit and watch, and there were musicians and booths and lots of people wandering along the harbour front, gazing at visiting ships and boats as well as at the performers . We paused by a didgeridoo player and stopped to watch a young man performing high leaping feats on something that bore a vague resemblance to a pogo stick and further along three women who twisted and turned and swooped down cascades of silk as part of their act, and kept up a lively exchange with the crowd as they worked. We wandered past a loud and lively children’s area and heard commentary on high flying trampoline performers from another area sponsored by a radio station before we moved on to do other, more mundane things, like buy groceries.

We often crossed the harbour and walked to stores in downtown Halifax, and sometimes we would come upon concerts and buskers performing along the harbourfront as we walked. Coming upon an unexpected performance is one of the best ways to discover a performer you like - we came across Jordan Croucher, singing a capella when his backup tape failed and obviously not needing the music in the background to help his voice to soar. He was performing on the deck of the Sackville, Canada’s last Corvette, now maintained as a floating museum and Canadian Naval Memorial. The performance was on behalf of Democracy 250, which is promoting recognition of the 250th anniversary of the establishment of parliamentary democracy in Nova Scotia and reaching out to young people to encourage them to understand the political process, be involved and vote. And that in itself tells you a lot about Nova Scotia.

And then there was the boat work we planned and set out to accomplish - with a lot of help from some of our friends. We built a new nesting dinghy, and installed mounting blocks so that we can carry it safely on top of our cabin. Our dinghy splashed into the water in the second week of August, complete except for the details. We can report that it rows very well, and we’ll soon know how it sails. And we designed and Richard (and our friend Steve) built a new entrance to our cabin, with a hinged hatch and doors instead of the old sliding hatch and boards. Installed it has lines similar to the old hatch but is much more waterproof and more easily opened and closed.

As always, there is maintenance - wood to be sanded and oiled, deck and cabin to be painted, and the dodger to be restitched. This time we handed the dodger over to Greg at Atlantic Canvas, who did a masterful job of stitching everything back together. The rest we tackled ourselves. The outside of our cabin is now a pleasing white, and so is our cockpit - there are still some small deck areas to be done, but we’ll do them where the weather is more pleasant.

Finally there are the things that broke unexpectedly. Our galley foot pump decided it had done enough work, and quit, to be replaced by one with a slightly higher flow. Our starter, newly installed in May, refused to work in September and had to be removed and replaced as well. Our main halyard developed chafed areas after rubbing against one of the spreaders in high winds and we changed it rather than risk it failing at an inopportune time.

One of the best things about the cruising life is seeing old friends and meeting new ones. We’ve seen a few old friends here and met many new ones, and once again our boat sails away carrying much that reminds us of people we have met and those who have helped us in many different ways. There have been many who offered us friendship and practical help and encouragement, and some who stand out because they have been so generous with their time and help. Thank you, everyone - we will remember you as we travel and plan to see you next summer when we are back in Halifax again.

So now, after all the help and work, the boat is back in cruising trim and all we need is the right weather to start moving south again. September has been eaten up by our preparations to move on, and the stormy season is upon us. It’s time to go...

Pictures from Summer 2008

2008-10-02T18:29:00.000-07:00

Halifax was one of the stops in the 07-08 Round the World Clipper Race. Here the race boats, Clipper 68s, parade in Halifax Harbour shortly after their arrival. Ten boats, representing ten ports, leave Liverpool for a race around the world. Over the next ten months they round the world, stopping at different ports - by now they have returned to Liverpool, after calling at Sydney, Nova Scotia, then crossing to Cork, Ireland before returning to their starting point.

Trees, flowers, water, birds - Halifax Public Gardens is a beautiful example of nature tamed and coaxed and molded into a public park.

The Gothic facade of St. Mary's Basilica seen from Spring Garden Road, reputed to be the oldest Catholic church in North America. The building soars into the sky, and the facades is full of detail, with beautiful stained glass windows. The only thing lacking is enough space to step back and take the whole structure in.

We went all the way to Halifax to listen to the Trinidad and Tobago Defence Force Steel Band, marching in the Tattoo Parade on Canada Day.

A re-enactment of military drills from the time of muskets and kilts at the Citadel, the fortress that has stood guard over the city of Halifax, in one form or another, since 1761.

Of course, Canada Day meant fireworks. These were from a barge out on the harbour, part of a very nice display.

Hundreds of feet below the Cape Blomidon Lookout the farmland stretches to the shores of the Minas Basin, where the Fundy tides rise and fall, exposing great banks of red mud when they are low.

A wild rose bud hides among the leaves and stalks in a planter by the marina. The thorny wild rose bushes provide shelter for small birds and rose hips in the fall and winter for those birds that overwinter.

A Busy Dartmouth/Halifax Summer

2008-10-02T18:25:00.000-07:00

It has been a busy and interesting summer. We have spent the season at Alderney Marina, enjoying the conveniences of sitting at a dock - easy access to water and a little extra power for keeping us warm when the weather turned cool. Sitting on one of the outer docks left us a little more exposed to weather that we would have been in a slip further in, so there were interesting times when wind and waves picked up and made the boat jump against her moorings. But turning our bow out into the the harbour helped, and so did being lucky enough to be able to move to a more sheltered spot vacated by another boat when the remnants of the storm called Hanna passed through toward the end of summer.

We’ve also enjoyed being a short walk away from the Dartmouth Farmer’s Market, where we buy local vegetables and fruit, eggs and cheese, and the occasional baked treat. In spite of the vagaries of weather the quality of everything we’ve bought has been good - and one of the best things has been being able to bite into fruits and vegetables that are fresh and full of taste. Even though it has meant getting up early to get there in time to choose from the best of the selection.

Then we had all kinds of activities to choose from. Halifax is a busy place in the summer time. There are boats and ships visiting, festivals and holidays to be enjoyed, and a wide choice of museums and galleries, large and small, and activities and performances and places to visit. We found our way to some and happened across others this year - but next year there will be more new-to-us places to visit and things to see.

Our summer in the harbour began with a visit from the ten sailboats taking part in the around The World Clipper Race. They stopped in Halifax after racing from New York, and when we saw them they were gathered in the harbour for a sailpast, each boat showing the flag of the country it represented proudly on its mainsail. The race is based in England and gives people of many different backgrounds and ages a chance to take part in a round-the-world sail on boats sponsored by and representing different ports along their route. Each boat is skippered by a professional captain, but anyone hardy and adventurous enough - and with sufficient funds - can join the crew. Crew members are trained and sign on for one or more legs (each leg is four weeks). Some do the complete ten month circumnavigation. The boats lay berthed in the harbour for a few days while the crews were feted and welcomed and took advantage of the opportunity to rest and replenish. We went across on the ferry to see them at their berths and admire, along with many others. Preparations for the next race are well underway now - if you are curious, you can learn more at www.clipperroundtheworld.com.

Canada Day celebrations were the next high point, starting with a pancake breakfast at Alderney Landing, continuing with the Tattoo Parade through downtown Halifax and a visit to the Citadel, followed by concerts back at Alderney and winding down with fireworks over the harbour. And that was only a sampling of the things we could have done - museums and historic sites all over the city were open and could be visited free. There were performances, picnics and events scattered around Dartmouth and Halifax, including a large run/walk around the city for the athletic.

Halifax’s Canada Day Parade reflects the towns military and naval roots. The parade is made up of groups from all over Canada and the world who are in town taking part in the annual Nova Scotia International Tattoo - the largest annual Tattoo in Canada, according to Wikipedia. The parade was led off by two mounties, their horses gleaming and strutting, followed by dancers and singers and costumed groups and by military groups and bands from Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Britain, Australia - and our favourite, the steel drum band from Trinidad and Tobago. We stood on the sidewalk on Spring Garden Road, watching as the streets were closed down and the parade approached and enjoying the reactions of the crowd to the passing bands as well as the spectacle passing in front of us. Then after the parade had passed we followed many in the dispersing crowd to the Citadel.

The Citadel, the fortress sitting at the top of the hill which used to have a clear view of the harbour and beyond, is very much part of Halifax’s and Dartmouth’s naval and military heritage. Even now, with more modern (and less elegant) buildings confounding the once clear view of the harbour and obscuring many of the remaining historic buildings clustered around the old port, the view holds hints of what it must once have been. The Citadel itself was full of activity, with music and cake to celebrate Canada’s birthday, re-enactors playing the part of soldiers from the days of muskets and kilts, and people visiting the museum and gift shop and wandering the grounds and ramparts. The museum traces the development of the fort, from its beginnings as a wooden blockhouse to its final, larger and more durable form when it was finally finished in 1856. Many people worked on it during its various construction phases, including Maroons transported to Nova Scotia from Jamaica in 1796, many of whom later moved on to Sierra Leone. We explored the museum, watched the people, and enjoyed a slice of cake before we moved on.

After our visit to the Citadel we crossed the harbour on the ferry, heading back to the boat and then to the outdoor concerts at Alderney Landing, beside the marina. The concert was lively and fun and included something for almost every musical taste; we particularly enjoyed the R and B of Asia and Nu Gruv, a group we first heard last summer at the Jazz Festival, and the very entertaining Celtic-based music of the Barra McNeils, and listened from the boat to a lively performance by Big Fish. Then we finished off the evening watching the fireworks over the harbour. A full and fun day.

July continued with music. We spent some time at the Jazz Festival, and our find this year was Coco Love Alcorn, whose set we thoroughly enjoyed. We enjoyed some other very good performances too and were particularly impressed by some of the younger musicians - the Matt Giffin Trio (Matt Giffin, Keith Doiron, Will Fisher) played incredibly well, reaching out to the audience and each other through their instruments, the groups that developed their performances in the Creative Music Workshop jumped into some very interesting and risky work, and we thoroughly enjoyed the Big Valley Swing Orchestra. If we had had the time to go to the festival every day it was on we would probably have an even longer list of the things that we enjoyed!

We did take some time away from music to explore and enjoy the Halifax Gardens, a cool and pleasant place on a warm day. Friends introduced us to more of this beautiful province, driving us through farmland and small towns and up the slope to the Cape Blomidon Lookout. And, as usual, we saw new parts of Halifax and Dartmouth as we walked or rode the buses from place to place. Walking gives us a chance to notice small things, read notices that flash past when we are on the bus, see the faces of people we pass by, enjoy the parks and the lakes that dot the Dartmouth side; the buses take us along routes we probably would not see otherwise. Between work and exploration time flew past, and by the time we looked around it was August, time for more festivities and for more serious planning for the time we will be heading south.

Pictures: Winter into Spring 2008

2008-06-20T07:13:00.000-07:00

There were days when it seemed as if Winter would never leave - although we knew it would. A late March snowfall blanketed the city, and encouraged us to enjoy its beauty from inside the apartment we were renting.

Technically it's Spring. But, in spite of the sunny skies, it's cold and the boats are not going back into the water in any hurry. So the docks at Dartmouth Yacht Club are sitting waiting...

When we hauled the boat we found out why we were moving so slowly, and the boat had a tendency to pull to one side - mussels. Lots of them. Hanging on to the bottom - at least until Richard took the shovel to them. If the water here were cleaner we could have had a nice boil-up!

Here she is, back to normal, with fresh anti-fouling paint to keep the mussels away and the waterline stripe raised and repainted with hard anti-fouling paint. Hopefully that will keep below the waterline, wherever it may be, clean.

A warm day before we left Dartmouth Yacht Club - boats in the water, people exploring the shoreline.

Back at Alderney Marina, brightened up with fresh paint, lively colours - and flowers crowning the poles the docks are attached to! A different approach to things...

Getting Back On the Water Again

2008-06-20T07:10:00.000-07:00

It took a while for the weather to get warm enough for comfortable work. Winter kept teasing, and Spring was coy. Now, while it is certainly not as warm as it would be further south - where, of course, we plan to spend next winter - we have managed to do some work and paint and move back on to the boat. The whole process went something like this:

At the beginning of May the boat came out of the water. Finally, after three years - longer than we had planned - we had the chance to take her mast down, clean the accumulation of plants and creatures at and below the waterline and put new antifouling on to keep those clinging sea creatures at bay. And it was past time, as we saw when Into The Blue was finally sitting in the slings - mussels had decided she made a good rock and had taken up residence en masse. They were literally hanging off the hull, in curtains. Not much wonder the boat had been dragging through the water, and showing a tendency to wander off in one direction! Happily, those mussels came off quite easily, and in the end it was a cleanup, scrape-off job that was not nearly as bad as it originally looked. Then we had two weeks to get our out-of-the-water jobs done and some hard work ahead.

So: on the list, the usual things. Cleaning, sanding, painting, touching up, mending. And a few new things - headliner, to help keep the forward berth warm and dry. New curtains, to replace the now well-worn ones we left with. Beginning the job of repainting the inside. Rewiring and removal of unused wires. Running new wires through the mast. The only problem was the normal one - time. So when we started work we did the most crucial jobs first.

We started with the bottom of the boat - mainly Richard’s job - sanding and washing and fixing the odd spot here and there, followed by masking and repainting our waterline stripe with hard antifouling paint in a suitable shade of blue. Then we recoated with ablative antifouling below the waterline. With the mast down, this was our opportunity to fix our mast-top anchor light and redo the wiring in the mast. Or rather, as it turned out, replace the anchor light, which fell to pieces in Richard’s hands when he tried to take the lens off to change the bulb. And the VHF antenna had also, as it turned out, been quietly falling apart. So it needed to be replaced too.

On deck I sanded and oiled the outside wood. Then it was into the cabin to clean the winter’s accumulation of dust and damp and mildew, and sand where we planned to paint. Then clean, and try to tidy up, and clean... But at the end of those two weeks the boat looked like a construction site and there was still work to be done. And she had to go back in. And the day we had chosen to be out of the apartment was fast approaching. The pressure of deadlines made life a little stressful.

Back in the water, we had only three days before it was time to leave the Dartmouth Yacht Club. We prepared to go with much left to be done, planning to finish our work down at Alderney Marina. Then a new wrinkle appeared. There we were, everything we had on board at the time safely stowed away, lifejackets ready, warmly dressed, chart on the counter in the cabin and GPS’s at the ready. Richard hit the starter button, planning to give the engine a few minutes to warm up. Nothing happened. No noise, not a click or a clunk, the engine did not even try to turn over. Was it the batteries? He tried charging them, boosting them with help from another boater down the dock - but nothing happened. The problem was unwanted but not unexpected: he had been nursing the starter along, but now it had declared itself past the point of being nursed - it had finally expired. Either we were going to stay where we were until we could get a new one, or we were going to ask for a tow out and try to sail down. That had its own challenges - we would have to go with the right wind and tide, to make it comfortably through the Narrows. And it was evening, and the light would be going soon. Either way, we needed time. We went to talk to the Club’s manager.

We were treated with kindness - Curtis, the manager, told us not to worry about having to take extra time, that our situation was understood. We gave the starter out and paid mightily for its replacement - something to do with ours being an old Renault engine and having to bring a starter in from the other side of the country. At least it was the other side of this country - there was a chance we might have been importing it from another one. We kept working inside the cabin while we waited - sanding, cleaning, putting up the headliner. Finally the starter arrived, Richard installed it, and right afterward we were lucky enough to have a good day for leaving. We reversed out of the slip at Dartmouth Yacht Club in our own unique way (one of the interesting things about having a full keel boat being that it likes to pick its own direction when going backward). A couple of half-circles, backward and forward, and then we were leaving Into The Blue’s winter home...

The wind came and went, and we half-sailed, half-motored to our summer spot at Alderney Marina to continue getting the boat ready to move back on to. First, finish the work we had started, then clean the boat and move things on, then clean the apartment... Now that part of the work is done. We are back on board, and it’s feeling like home again. Still things to do, but also time to look forward to taking breaks and doing some sailing and enjoying the festivals and events around town.

Starting with the visit of the Clipper Round The World Race boats. But that’s a tale for another time.

Winter Pictures from Dartmouth

2008-03-09T09:03:00.000-07:00

Back in winter clothes again - something we had planned not to do! A winter walk on a sunny day to Albro Lake, not far from the apartment we are spending winter in.

This is Albro Lake, one of the many lakes in this city of lakes and just down the road from our apartment. This day it was frozen enough for the ice fishermen to venture out on.

The view from one of our windows after the snow has fallen and the plough has cleared the parking lot next door. Snow and more snow...

True to the pattern of this winter - after the snow, the thaw, and a day that is warmer, wet and rather windy.

There were ducks at the lake. We watched as they came in for three-point landings, sliding across the ice and occasionally into each other or a nearby seagull. The signs told us not to feed the birds, but they came over to check us out as a source for possible goodies anyway.

Dartmouth Winter

2008-03-09T07:56:00.000-07:00

Winter continues, even as Spring tries to make her presence felt. Into The Blue has spent many days pulling at her ropes at Dartmouth Yacht Club; we visit to check on her and them, and to dry out her insides and contemplate the coming work we will tackle in Spring. On his last visit, Richard found her demanding attention now, water inside the boat above the floor boards. Marine growth has blocked her cockpit drains again, and water will go wherever it can find a way. We are grateful for promises of warmth, though the weather systems full of wind and snow and rain continue to blow through. It is difficult still for us to do much, but time to do what must be done and what we can. When we visit we often hear others working on land, under tarps and covers - the sound of sanders and grinders and other various electrically driven tools. We are planning and deciding on our priorities, and hoping that not too many things leap up to demand they be moved to the head of the line. Top of our list is pulling the boat and doing all the bottom paint and checking the rudder - not because the rudder is giving any indication of problems, but because it is awfully hard to sail without a rudder...

Meantime the Halifax Boat Show has been a welcome sign that winter will end and we will join the many others out on the water in their boats. This boat show is a little smaller than the Toronto Boat Show, and a little later - but a great place to seek out resources, talk to people and learn what’s new and what’s hot - like electric outboards and all kinds of self-powered craft. We were able to talk to manufacturer’s representatives and distributors, and see, touch and ask questions about a few things we were particularly interested in, like the Cobb Cooker and the Klepper Folding Kayak. And a place to spend an enjoyable and interesting day.

A good variety of seminars were presented. We would have liked to have visited more, but on the day we were there we chose the ones which interested us most, and not surprisingly those had to do with sailing the oceans. Derek Hatfield, Canada’s entry in the single-handed, round the world Vendee Globe race, gave an interesting talk illustrated with slides and clips showing the building and testing of Spirit of Canada, his present Open 60 ocean racer, and from the Around Alone he competed in in 2002. His slide/video show had wonderful pictures of life at sea in all kinds of conditions. His story is one of persistence and courage, and of reaching out to Canadians of all kinds to offer and seek support. He is carrying the names of thousands of supporters around the world on the hull of his boat as he races, and will send them news of his race as he goes. And the burgees of clubs that support him will travel with him around the world aboard the Spirit of Canada before they make their way back to the clubs they came from, autographed and bringing a touch of history with them.

If Derek Hatfield’s story is one of sailing as fast as possible, Hubert Marcoux’s is about taking the slow route, and enjoying the stops along the way. His book “Around the World in 18 Years” tells the whole story, but we got a taste of it - some highlights of the special places he stopped at, the interesting people he met, his loss of his first boat and the building of his second, his arrival in Halifax, and the subsequent arrival of Hurricane Juan. The images of his boat driven up into the garden of a house by the Bedford Basin were haunting. He is rebuilding his boat here, and hopes to be back in the water this summer; we plan to keep an eye out for him and hope to see him from time to time on our travels.

In our wanderings around the show we came across some interesting booths. One was for the Mahone Bay Islands Conservation Association. In so many places we have visited islands are being sold, taken from the public domain, overtaken by development and in too many cases destroyed by it. Some of the destruction is obvious - erosion and vanishing shorelines and plants, made worse by attempts to control nature without understanding how she works. Some is much harder to see, but it’s effects will continue to be felt for years to come - the impact of such things as the invisible pollution of common chemicals and human waste. The same is true along the coast of Nova Scotia, where beauty beckons the developers in - and then, ironically, they destroy the very thing that attracted them in the first place. This association brings people and government bodies together to try to slow the process in Mahone Bay, where islands dot comparatively sheltered waters and offer interesting anchorages and places to explore. Rather than stand by and see destruction happen, the Conservation Association is working with some success to preserve the nature of the islands as much as possible, for ourselves and future generations to enjoy. We plan to sail to and explore Mahone Bay this summer.

Now we are thinking ahead to when we get back on the boat. Our sails have been assessed and repaired and are ready to fly again, we have found local sources for various things we need, we are feeling the itch to sail again. Now if winter would just turn into spring and spring to summer...

Pictures from Dartmouth

2007-12-13T14:56:00.000-08:00

Two long bridges cross Halifax Harbour between the Halifax and Dartmouth sides. This one is the McDonald Bridge, which lies closer to the harbour mouth. From it you can look down on the dockyards and the marina we were moored at from September to November.

The gulls eat well by the waterfront. Sea urchins, crabs, mussels which cling to the marina floats and rocks - we can see what they eat because they use the flat surfaces of the marina docks as a convenient place to rest their food on. And of course they don't clean up after themselves...

In October the weather grew cooler, though still not cold, and the leaves began to turn, warning us that this year we were going to see winter come.

There are little bits of history scattered along the Dartmouth waterfront, and stopping to look and read you learn many interesting stories. This elegant and broken propeller is from the Canadian Coast Guard Ship John A. MacDonald. It was damaged by ice while the vessel was assisting the oil tanker SS Manhattan in her historic crossing of the Northwest Passage in 1969. There are several tales wrapped up in there for those who care to pursue them.

For us, this is the heart of Halifax and Dartmouth - the harbour, with all its boats and ships and the businesses that surround them. Part of the dockyard lies across from this marina. We were lucky enough to be able to move in to an empty slip here in October, and Into The Blue found shelter here during NorEaster Noel.

Fall in Halifax/Dartmouth

2007-12-13T14:54:00.000-08:00

The coming of September meant time to get ready to leave Into The Blue while we travelled to Toronto for the wedding of one of our daughters. We investigated different possibilities, and finally decided to leave our nice quiet anchorage and move over to Alderney Marina off the main harbour, on the Dartmouth side. We had found a very solid and relatively inexpensive mooring owned by the marina that we felt we could comfortably leave the boat on while we travelled. Once there we found our new spot was also conveniently close to a large library with internet access, the weekly farmers’ market, and a grocery and several other stores. Back from the wedding we decided to stay on where we were after September. There were interesting times - when the wind blew from the southern quadrant there was little shelter for our mooring. There were days when going out to the boat was a challenge, days when the wind blew up the harbour and created a large swell that made the boat look as if she was sailing into the waves. Luckily those days were few, and the wind almost always died at night.

As September became October and then November the weather became more unsettled and cooler. We spent much of October looking for an apartment to spend the winter months in. We had taken a hard look at our insulation and heating, and our lack of one and deficiencies in the other made it clear that wintering on the boat was not a good option. Winter, after all, was not in our original plans when we outfitted the boat, just the possibility of cool days and cooler nights. And cleaning condensation off the inside of the boat morning and night is not much fun. Then towards the middle of October we were given the chance to move into a spot at the marina vacated by a boat which had been taken out of the water. We took it happily, since it meant we could enjoy the shelter of the breakwater, the unaccustomed convenience of quick access to boat and land, and move off the boat much more easily. We walked around Dartmouth looking at apartments until we found the small one we are living in now , signed a seven month lease and moved in toward the end of the month. That turned out to be a little bit before NorEaster Noel blew into town.

The good thing about small apartments is that it doesn’t take much to fill them and make them look comfortably lived-in. Ours is furnished with donated, lent and cheaply acquired furniture, thanks to friends made after we arrived here and the local internet marketplace. And somehow the bits go together well enough not to look jarring. And, a real bonus, there is a large cupboard in the apartment which can be stuffed with boat bits - all those things which could not be left on board to freeze or get mouldy. There are lots of them, as we found out going through our lockers. The friend who helped us move (on, of course, a rainy, blustery day) was astonished that so much could come out of a boat so small.

It’s a quiet neighbourhood we’re in now, particularly at night and even more particularly on a night that is cold and wintery. The apartment building sits near the top of a hill looking down toward The Narrows between Halifax Harbour and Bedford Basin. There are no large highways nearby, no hum of city traffic. Two buses run past, from which we can transfer to others which will take us just about anywhere we want to go. There is a grocery store nearby, a small library and community centre down the road. We settled in quickly.

Then NorEaster Noel blew through. The afternoon before the storm arrived we took down all canvas, tied off ropes, took everything off the outside of the boat that could come off and tied down anything that could not, then doubled up most of the ropes as well as tying off the stern to a ring on the main dock, to try to hold the boat off the finger she was lying beside. We were not alone while we worked - other people were on their boats doing the same thing, some moving their boats into safer slips more sheltered by the breakwater. The evening came cold and still. We had done everything we could; now we could only wait and hope. We took what comfort we could from the thought that little damage had been done to boats in the marina during Hurricane Juan.

At the apartment we filled containers with water, cooked up some food in the pressure cooker and made sure our flashlights were in good working order. Our apartment is very sheltered so it was difficult to gauge what was happening outside, but that day there were times when the wind rattled our windows. We spent the day of the storm watching it’s progress on the weather channel (we enjoyed free cable for a month), checking our sources on the internet and listening to the radio - we were lucky that our power stayed on. We heard of some people who stayed on their boats in different harbours - all were fine; we heard that the waves in Halifax Harbour reached thirty-four feet high - higher than our boat is long; towards the end we heard of a few boats washed up on rocks or on to the shore in different places. We had decided ahead of time not to brave the weather and go down to the marina. There seemed little point, since as the storm progressed the waves and surge would make it too dangerous to try to reach the boat even if we saw anything happening. That was our home out there - we had done our best to prepare her, but it was a nervous day and night.

The next morning with the wind dropping Richard went down to the marina to see what had happened. The main docks are held in place by poles anchored into the seabed. Chains around the poles allow the docks to rise and fall with the tide. The marks from the chains showed that the surge had lifted the docks almost to the full height of the anchoring poles, and one dock had stuck at that height and was sitting at an angle, but apart from that there was little damage. All the boats in the marina had come through with little or no damage, and for us the only memento was some scratched paint where a fender had exploded and the boat had rubbed against the dock for a short while. We could breathe again.

Winter since has been a succession of more or less breezy days. The people who assured us that winter in Halifax did not see much snow, and what there was did not stay for long have been proved wrong so far this year. With La Nina dominating the weather patterns, Environment Canada is predicting the snowiest, coldest winter in the past fifteen years and the current forecast predicts the arrival of another NorEaster in the next few days. We sure know how to pick ’em!

Still, winter aside, this is a good place to be ashore in. There is work, people are friendly, there is lots happening and apartment rents are generally reasonable. And we are never far from parks and wilderness areas. Dartmouth has been nicknamed “City of Lakes” because of the number of lakes within its borders. Our apartment is a short walk from Albro Lake - it is covered now with snow and thin ice, but underneath the snow is a beach you can swim from on a warm summer day. And another short walk away is a monument to the Halifax Explosion of 1917, a piece of one of the ships that blew up in what was one of the most deadly explosions ever, a reminder of a difficult part of the city’s history. Other historic monuments and plaques are scattered through the city, giving a sense of the history of the area and the pride people take in it.

And now Christmas is approaching, and it will certainly be a white one. The snow that’s here shows no signs of disappearing any tiime soon. We’ll enjoy Christmas in the snowy north this year and look forward to having a green one next year. And we’ll let you know how it all goes.

Some Pictures from Halifax

2007-10-24T07:22:00.000-07:00

Looking from Deadman's Island toward the Armdale Yacht Club. At the base of the big, old tree is the memorial to the American soldiers killed in the War of 1812 - past and present blending.Looking from Deadman's Island toward the Armdale Yacht Club. At the base of the big, old tree is the memorial to the American soldiers killed in the War of 1812 - past and present blending.

Looking down the North West Arm toward the Halifax Harbour entrance, with the fog lifting and a clear day on the way.

The Tall Ships visiting in Halifax Harbour - This figurehead looks calmly over visitors and work in progress (everybody has to do maintenance!).

Time to do some sail repairs on one of the tall ships, perched out on the bowsprit, glue gun in hand.

Neither fog nor rain nor wind deters them from their appointed race - members of the Armdale Yacht Club race off into the fog.

A sunny summer day by the Arm - as you can see, not everybody bothers with docks, especially when the shore is easier to row to. The dinghy was securely tied to a rock so that it would not float away when the tide came back up.

A day after clouds of flying ants suddenly descended on the boats, the ducks were still feasting happily. We could hear them eating away.

Anchored in Halifax for Summer, 2007

2007-10-24T07:14:00.000-07:00

From Miami to Halifax

The voyage from Miami to Halifax was unusual for us. Instead of being miles away from the coast and far from most marine traffic we saw other vessels every day. There were fishing boats of all sizes and types, large and small container ships, cruise ships, trawlers, other sailboats - we were rarely alone for long. That kept us alert, and meant watches were busy - and even busier on days when the fog descended and keeping an eye on the radar and an ear to the wind was added to the mix. Though not too busy to enjoy seeing dolphins and birds - and, for the first time, whales.

As we got closer to Halifax the water and the weather grew colder. A week before we arrived we began to run our fireplace at night, to help us stay warm. We slept snuggled under layers of coverings, and on the coldest nights went to bed with a toque on to keep us warmer. Being able to pull it down over our eyes when a watch ran into daylight hours helped too! Sunshiny days warmed our bones; foggy ones were cool even though it was the warmer winds out of the south west that brought them. Sometimes the fog was so thick we could not see even nearby fishing boats, only hear them on the radio as they worked and watch for them on the radar. Occasionally we would catch a glimpse through the fog of one passing off our stern. Sometimes the fog was deceptive, closing our horizon down even though the area around us looked clear.

The trip took about eighteen days. We sailed in and out of the edge of the Gulf Stream depending which direction the wind blew from, with Herb of Southbound II to help guide us. Along the way we encountered mostly light winds, some moderate breezes, the occasional day or night of heavier wind and only one thunderstorm off the Carolinas. Though we did see lightning crackling on the horizon behind us after we passed the northern end of the Gulf Stream before it turned to run east. Most of the time we sailed comfortably with the wind behind us or on a beam reach - the day or two the wind was against us it was light. We enjoyed our best sailing of the trip coming into Halifax Harbour, flying along with the wind on our beam at 15 to 18 knots, watching for large ships moving in or out as we crossed the shipping lane and moving quickly toward a quiet place to anchor and check in. We were back in Canada after almost two years of traveling.

Halifax

By the time we arrived in Halifax we had already decided, after consulting our charts and Reed’s East Coast Nautical Almanac, to anchor up the North West Arm away from the traffic of the main harbour. It lies south of the harbour so we are not sure why it is called the North West Arm, except that it runs generally North West. It is a longish, narrow body of water which offers good shelter in most conditions so long as you can find a suitable place to anchor. This would be easier if much of the bottom were not a mixture of rock and mud with a healthy growth of weeds. Much of the area outside the channel is taken up by moorings, some belonging to individuals and some belonging to different marinas and clubs, but we did manage to find a good spot outside the Armdale Yacht Club to drop our hook. Members and staff were friendly and helpful, and we found ourselves close to public docks and access to stores and downtown - and in very convenient spot to enjoy watching their racing and regattas. We settled in for what was left of summer.

Halifax turned out to be a busy place. We arrived at about the same time as the Tall Ships. Shortly afterward the boats sailing in the race between Marblehead and Halifax began turning up. Many arrived in fog and had to be guided through the busy harbour to their berths by Halifax Harbour Radio and the Coast Guard. So we spent our first weekend in Halifax exploring Halifax Harbour and looking at the Tall Ships gathered at the docks and wharves there. They came in many different sizes, kinds and conditions and visitors flocked around and onto them curious about their origins, their journeys and how they worked. We saw the Roseway, last seen in St. Croix, and the Picton Castle, last seen in Bermuda in Spring 2006 and now black instead of white after her work on the TV show Pirate Master. There was a training schooner from Toronto, the Playfair, a little more rough than the others; and of course the beautiful Bluenose II. Along with other tall ships from the United States, Europe and the Caribbean. And sitting at a dock in the middle of all the crowds, the beautiful classic racing yacht Ticonderoga.

After that the Jazz Festival started the following weekend, and ran for ten days. There were local, national and international performers and all kinds of performances at different prices - including free afternoon shows which we thoroughly enjoyed. We particularly enjoyed Asia and Nu Groove, and unfortunately missed listening to Doug Riley and Tonic. Then there was the Buskers Festival, then Natal Day, the annual celebration of the birthday of the communities of Halifax and Dartmouth. More free concerts and performances to enjoy. By the end of August we were just about festivaled out, but happily there were lots of other things to do.

We explored downtown Halifax and found our way to the Khyber Centre for the Arts, and a show that moved beyond the level of simply presenting art. “Panzos, 25 years later” uses photography, paintings and the written word to tell the story of a small town in Guatemala and what happened there when the interests of its inhabitants ran contrary to those of the Canadian mining company, Inco. The artist, Marlón García Arriaga, a schoolboy at the time of the Panzos massacre, describes the development of his work this way: “In October of 1997 I participated as a forensic photographer in the exhumation of the victims of the Panzós massacre. They were found in a mass grave where their bodies had been cast indiscriminately. This was how I had the opportunity to participate in filling the vacuum present in the lives of Guatemalans despite 19 years of investigations into the events at Panzós. It was with my feet inside of this grave, alongside the women of FAMDEGUA (Association of Relatives of the Disappeared and Detained of Guatemala), that I made the decision to create an outline for an exposition that would include my photos, paintings inspired by such moments, the testimony of survivors, newspaper clippings from the time of the war, photos from historical archives, and testimonies of intellectuals and activists who had confronted the power of the Guatemalan state and its involvement with the Canadian mining company. The purpose of all this was to further illuminate and understand who I am and what had taken place in my country.” Beautifully painted and effectively presented, this was a show which made us think about another, uglier world.( (Link to more information))

And so we spent the summer exploring Halifax, enjoying places like the Public Gardens, the waterfront, some of the beautiful older buildings we came across on our walks. We passed the Commons, full of activity by day, with its playgrounds and skateboard park and ball diamonds. We learned a little about the area’s history, rich and storied. We learned, for instance, that the Armdale Yacht Club stands on an island with a historic past. The island has been a prisoner of war camp, a reception point for recruits to the British Foreign Legion, a hospital for immigrants suffering from Typhus Fever, a refuge for former black slaves fleeing the United States, and a navy prison and its clubhouse was once the home of the warden of a Military Prison. Close by is Deadman’s Island, not really an island but a point of land. The bodies of some who perished during their time on Melville Island are buried there and United States Marines help maintain it now in memory of those who were American prisoners of war from the war of 1812. Looking south east along the shore we could see the Dingle Tower in Sir Sandford Fleming Park, constructed to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the establishment of representative government in Nova Scotia - the first colony outside the U.K. to have this form of government. The tower was completed and dedicated in 1912.

In the present there were some practical things to be attended to. Richard started working shortly after we arrived, and early in the morning, sometimes at first light, we would take the dinghy across to drop him at one of the docks. Whenever the wind blew from the south west the fog would start to roll up the Arm and on a foggy morning I learned to steer using nearby boats and mooring buoys as waypoints until I could see the dock, and to find my way back the same way. We were forewarned when we would wake to the blare of ships’ horns as they made their way into the fogbound harbour. These kinds of conditions rarely lasted more than a morning, though we did get some very nice pictures of the Armdale boats racing off into the fog on a race evening.

Summer passed quickly , cooler than we are used to, and very green. We found wild flowers growing along the sides of many of the roads as we walked, and an abundance of bees and wasps and butterflies around them. We saw ducks, gulls, cormorants and the occasional loon and seal. Every now and again a cormorant would exit the water at speed, and a seal would pop up behind... The air smelled of trees and flowers over on the Arm, and not of automobiles and dust and factories. Not that the latter are not around - just that they are not, or not yet, overwhelming. We found many people who were kind, helpful and friendly, and a sense that the problems the community encounters should be faced together.

Pictures, Miami in 2007

2007-09-19T14:46:00.000-07:00

When the winds blew out of the west the air was filled with haze and smoke. This created some strange and beautiful effects, especially as the sun was going down. This picture is taken from our boat anchored in Biscayne Bay looking toward Miami.

Morning sun lights the skyline of Miami as seen from Key Biscayne.

Coming in to Crandon Park Marina on a hazy, smoky morning with the sun trying to shine through.

The sun goes down, flaring through the clouds behind one of the points protecting Hurricane Harbor.

Some birds will land anywhere - here we have an unexpected visitor while anchored in No Name Harbor.

Another smoky sunset, this time as seen from No Name Harbor.

To Miami

2007-08-24T08:23:00.001-07:00

From St. Croix to Miami

We set off for Miami on April 6th with at least three days of good weather in the forecast and the wind behind us. Our trip through the more northern Virgin Islands was fast, the only challenge being the heavy traffic between the islands - ferries, charter boat, sailboats, work boats, small freighters. By our second day out we had sailed into windless patches and a squall. Over the next few days we practised all our light wind sailing techniques: using the drifter, motor sailing when there was not enough wind even for that (and we needed to charge our batteries) and poling out the jib -the wind stayed behind us. Then there were more days when light winds mixed with squalls - nothing like sitting there watching the weather come. Our plan was to follow a route which would take us past the Bahamas on their northern side, and then go south and cross the Gulf Stream. Then we started to hear Herb on Southbound II talk about heavy weather developing north of us and in the area we were planning to sail through, and we had had enough of squalls already...

And so we changed our route - our consensus was that a more southern route over the Bahamas banks and through the islands would be a wiser and certainly more comfortable choice. We approached the islands from the East sailing toward the Dotham Cut, which we chose because it offers an easy passage between islands to the Bank side. We were still some distance away from the cut, off Cat Island when we had what started off as an odd encounter. When we need to asses whether a boat is on a possible collision course with us we take a series of bearings on it. But this time we could not do that, because the boat kept weaving as it approached. We were beginning to feel a little apprehensive when we were hailed and realised, to our relief, that it was a US Coast Guard cutter. They were boarding boats in the area, and we were one of the elected. So there followed a very professional boarding by a party which included personnel from the US Coast Guard and the Bahamas Defence Force. They checked our papers and our equipment and we shared a little conversation - an unexpected and in the end pleasant diversion after eight days out. Then we went our way, and they continued on theirs. We heard them on the radio hailing other boats in the area...

The next day we sailed through the cut, with our engine on for extra power. Our new route took us across the banks and Tongue of the Ocean in increasing winds. The sail across Tongue of the Ocean was rather bumpy and uncomfortable, but much less so than it would have been further north. We were glad when we were travelling over the bank again through calmer seas, and the timing for approaching the cut through which we would leave the Bahamas worked out well.

We planned to make our exit from the Bahamas through a cut north of Cat Cay which the chart showed was wide enough and deep enough for our boat, and straight. With our engine going it should have been an easy exit to the ocean. The was only one flaw in the plan - our engine decided not to start, and with no time and place to turn back our safest option was to keep going and sail through. There were a few tense moments, but with a good wind to help us and Richard working the helm we were quickly and safely through. After that we had an exciting ride across and through the Gulf Stream with the wind rising and changing direction (at one point we suddenly found ourselves going north instead of south), and finally arrived in Miami twelve days after we set off. We tacked up the Biscayne Channel and sailed into No Name Harbor, attracting some attention when we dropped anchor under sail. This was one of those times we were glad we already knew the area! We stayed there while we checked in and sorted out our difficulty with the engine. In a couple of days we had it running again with help from a friend we were happy to find anchored there, and then we started into our usual routine of alternating anchoring and mooring, depending on what we needed to do. Thanks for all your help, Ken, and if you really have swallowed the anchor we hope you have found a comfortable place to make your home ashore.

In Miami

When cruising, you’re never sure when you will get to the next place. Once you get there you don’t really know how long you are going to stay - even if you think you do. Plans are always altered by whatever is happening with and around you. In the end we spent two months in Miami, visiting with family and doing the usual round of boat maintenance. This time there was a lot to do, including oiling and cleaning and re-arranging and putting stitches in and patches on various bits of our sails - sailing day after day tends to wear them out. Then there was the saga of trying to get our radio fixed. In the end we had to give up on that, since even after we had packaged it up and sent it off to one of the only two authorised repair centres run by the manufacturer it could not be fixed. In fact it ended up in a worse state than when we had sent it. And meantime time passed...

Florida in May and June was going through interesting times. On the surface all looked well. There was more tree cover and fewer signs of the hurricane damage that had been a noticeable part of the landscape on previous visits, so we saw a greener city. Trees looked bigger and healthier in the park around No Name Harbor and in Hurricane Harbor we were surrounded by well maintained lawns and gardens. There were birds everywhere and iguanas and lizards in abundance, and we saw manatees swimming through the mooring area of a marina which was Into The Blue’s weekend home.

But we soon found that winds blowing out of the west across Biscayne Bay were laden with ash from numerous wild fires. Before we left Lake Okechobee had gone down to its lowest level since records of its height were kept; in June there was a fire on part of the exposed lake bottom which burned organic matter left behind as the lake dried. The drought was taking its toll on farmers and businesses in mid-Florida, and people even talked about the rain a hurricane would bring. The ash in the air left a sooty residue on the boat and filtered the rays of the sun, creating strange atmospheric effects.

Before we left the summer thunderstorms had started. Almost every afternoon the skies would cloud over and there would be the snap and crackle of lightning and the rumble of thunder, sometimes very close by. Because it is so flat, we could see the storms coming across Biscayne Bay or over the land. One afternoon things got interesting as No Name Harbor suddenly filled with powerboats trying to tie up or anchor as a squall went sweeping through. If ever a cruiser needs encouragement to leave Florida thunderstorms like these will certainly help. We took the hint, thought about the quickly approaching hurricane season, and finished getting ourselves ready to leave so we could set sail as soon as the next good weather window appeared. We set off for Halifax, Nova Scotia shortly after the middle of June.

2007-05-28T06:20:00.000-07:00

Looking off the north shore of St. Croix toward Buck Island, a park area much enjoyed by divers.

St. Croix is one of the few places we have been which has had the foresight to guarantee public access to the island's beaches. We were introduced to Carambola Beach, nestled between hills and reached through one of the resorts, on an overcast windy day.

Here we stand at the Eastern most end of the island, thanks to our friends Lynne and Dave on Kittywake.

The schooner Roseway worked hard, taking school children and sometimes other groups out for a few hours of sailing. We would hear visitors aboard and crew as they raised the sails going down the channel - "Heave!" "Ho!", call and response setting the rhythm for hauling on the lines. Here she is returning as the sun sets behind the hills around Christiansted.

The old Customs House on the waterfront welcomed those coming to pay their dues with a graceful stairway and pleasant exterior - perhaps that made the task less painful?

An abandoned windmill sits by the boardwalk in Christiansted, overlooking the many dinghies tied up along the waterfront while their owners are busy ashore. Number of dinghies aside, things feel quieter here than in St. Maarten, more relaxed.

St. Croix, USVI

2007-05-28T05:39:00.000-07:00

Sint Maarten is far enough from St. Croix to make the trip an overnight sail, so we set off on a mid-March thursday morning hoping to arrive in St. Croix with the sun the next day. We were picking up NOAA forecasts on our SSB (we could listen even though we could not transmit) and conditions sounded good for a brisk but comfortable trip. As it turned out we should have kept in mind how many times winds forecast by NOAA were lower than the winds we sailed through. That night they touched thirty knots and we spent some time hove to; conditions were rough for a while and sleep was not high on the priority list. Daylight found us sailing briskly again, and then the wind became lighter and blew from behind. It was approaching evening by the time we came past Buck Island off the north shore of St. Croix on our way to the harbour at Christiansted. Reefs and multiple channels meant that we had to pay attention on our way in until finally we found a spot to drop anchor among other boats moored and anchored off the marina there - just before darkness came.

Dates and holidays often slide by us, as we were reminded when we checked in. Since it was a Saturday, we had to call customs to announce our arrival and be given instructions. They were simple; we met the customs officer about an hour later, going in by dinghy to the gated customs compound on the far side of the marina. Customs formalities were completed quickly, and then we sat and waited for immigration officials who came as soon as they finished their work with commercial vessels in another harbour. That took an hour or so, and we passed the time chatting with the customs officer. That was when we found out that it was St. Patrick’s Day and there was a big parade in this U.S.V.I. town with its Danish and Caribbean heritage to mark the occasion, complete with floats and bands andlotsof green. Time spent waiting passed quickly; our customs officer had travelled around the islands by plane and chartered sailboat, and we swapped stories of weather and people met. Formalities were rapidly completed once the immigration officials arrived, and by noon we were checked in and back on the boat.

The St. Patrick's Day parade sounded like fun, but back at the boat food and tidying up took priority over going ashore right away. By the time we took our dinghy in to the marina and walked in past the fishermen’s beach to Christiansted the great St. Patrick’s Day Parade was just about over, though there was still a festive atmosphere and lots of green around - green clothes, green paint on bodies and faces, green hats and scarves. There were people everywhere: children were happily collecting bead necklaces given away from some of the floats; families and friends were meeting and mingling. Many of the adults had enjoyed the liquid refreshment available, and some were feeling quite relaxed... Walking through town we found a free concert outside one of the bars on the waterfront, lots of dinghies jostling for space along the pier side of the boardwalk, a large mooring field occupying the space we had originally thought about anchoring in, a convenience store with bread and cold drinks. By the time we were walking back the cleanup crews were hard at work, and streets were being restored to their normal state. Our first impression of St. Croix was that here was a rich and unexpected mixing of cultures, an outwardly quiet place leavened by a large dose of energy and creativity. Here was an American territory where cars drive on the left (or in the middle), with a Danish heritage and links to Europe as well as the continental United States and a forward-looking policy of allowing public access to the beaches and encouraging links to the sea - integral parts of any island’s culture. Efforts here include encouraging children to learn about the sea and sailing and on weekdays we watched the graceful schooner Roseway take groups of school children out, crew and children working together to raise the sails as they went down the channel and out of the harbour.

The Roseway was only one of the boats that travelled in and out. There were also small cargo ships, the almost daily ferry, dive boats taking divers out to the reefs, day-tripping catamarans and a trimaran, local fishing boats and what looked like some would-be racing power boats, some more noisy than speedy and others frighteningly unstable as their occupants worked to balance heavy, powerful engines and light hulls. There was an abundance of birds, and it was here that we first watched the Brown Boobies dive like jets into the water, wings and body one straight line streaking downward, and then emerge eating. Then there were the swimming horses. Richard spotted one on a calm day, something strange in the water between the beaches by the anchorage - it took us a while to be sure we were looking at a horse. A few days later we saw others. When we met a beautiful little mare and her handler on the road one day we learned they were from a racing stable just up the hill from the marina and this was part of their training. Even the horses have their links to the sea!

As in most of the islands, tourism is one of the linchpins of the economy - but only one, and we found the development of tourist facilities both less intrusive and more integrated into island life than it had been in Sint Maarten. Add to that a rich mix of cultures and heritages and the sense of independence often found on a small island, and you have a place where the island culture is celebrated, creativity flourishes, most people greet visitors with a friendly pride, and there always seems to be something interesting happening. Not as many cruisers come here, but it isn’t surprising that many of those who do linger.

During the next few weeks we found our way to a couple of the galleries in Christiansted, and were lucky enough to meet the artist Preston Doane at the showing of some of his pictures at the Maufe Gallery. It was an interesting exhibit, based on a series of paintings in which he explores a part of St. Croix’s heritage - the Danish involvement in the slave trade and sugar, and the links between Denmark, Africa and St. Croix. His pictures were rich in symbolism and meaning, and he took the time to talk about how he had come to conceive the idea for them and about the meanings of the symbols he had used and the story he was telling. His being there enriched our experience of that exhibit immeasurably.

Another highlight of our time in St. Croix was being shown around the island from the dry east to the rain forested west and seeing many interesting spots in between. We met our escorts while looking at another Alberg 30 sitting in the boatyard at the marina. They were sitting on their own boat on the hard across from the Alberg - we started talking, they offered us information, practical help and finally friendship, and were happy to show us around this island they had adopted as home. We went driving with them one day when conditions were rough and rolly in the anchorage and it felt good to spend time on a surface that stayed still. With them we skirted the oil refinery close to Cane Garden; saw the Contessa’s house, looking more like a castle on its perch on top of a hill; stopped at the monument marking the easternmost part of the island with its views of the coast and Buck Island; visited beautiful beaches and saw other anchorages; and saw the contrasts in environment and living conditions between different areas of the island. The drought which was hitting hard in the east seemed hardly evident in the west; mansions in the hills overlooked the valleys and coasts and contrasted with small houses and crowded yards around the towns; graceful historical buildings in town contrasted with the modern, well-stocked, mainland-style supermarkets and stores a car ride away.

There was much to absorb,and as always, time passed quickly. Hurricane season was less than two months away. By the beginning of April we were looking for a weather window for our trip to Miami. The promise of three days of winds out of the south east were tempting, so we checked out the afternoon before and early on the first Friday in April we said good-bye to St. Croix and set off on a downwind sail toward Miami.

Pictures from Sint Maarten

2007-05-28T04:40:00.000-07:00

Beach bars were common along the board walk in Philipsburg, and on the streets just behind it. As well as being colorful, this one obviously had a Canadian connection - advertising "Ice Cold Beer, eh!"

A walk along the main street behind the board walk took us into this part of Philipsburg where locals live and shop.

One of the reasons tourists visit - the beach. Chairs and umbrellas available - for a fee and a tip. If you did not want to pay, you might be able to find a spot to lay out your towel... This was where the wi-fi was as well, free in some spots or associated with different restaurants in others.

There was an organization which took people out on the 12 Meter race boats which were once used in America's Cup racing. Here is one of the Stars and Stripes (we saw two, plus a model) slicing through the water. They are still elegant and fast and a pleasure to watch sailing.

One of the locally built boats is perched on the beach in Grand Case, propped up and waiting to be put in the water.

Grand Case, on the French side, was a small town with a street lined with restaurants, galleries and shops and a beautiful little beach. We were lucky enough to share an excellent meal at one of the restaurants here with our daughter and her fiance.

Sint Maarten/St. Martin

2007-05-28T04:37:00.000-07:00

We had a wonderful sail to Sint Maarten, arriving off the island long before we meant to, and in the dark. Generally we avoid entering a new harbour at night, so we hove to off the coast - and thereby hangs a tale. Running lights and instruments consume power. Our batteries were running low, so Richard started the engine to charge them. As he turned the engine off, he accidentally hit a nearby button which turned off our running lights. Our navigation lights flashed off and back on - and that flash caught the attention of the coast guard, who decided they needed to investigate. So Margaret, off-watch and sleeping, woke to find that we had been boarded by three men with guns from a boat which approached from behind with no lights... Thankfully, the crew which came aboard was professional and businesslike and quickly concluded that we were not carrying anything but ourselves and our provisions. But the incident reminded us that there is an ongoing problem with the traffic of illegal immigrants and goods between the islands. And we also learned that thanks to the mix of cultures here and the importance of the tourist trade you are more likely to hear English in Sint Maarten than any other language.

Our visitors left and we continued to wait. Come daylight we sailed in and dropped anchor in Groot Baai, and Richard went ashore to complete the usual formalities. There was only one hitch: no-one he talked to seemed to know where he was supposed to go - just that it was not wherever he was. In the end it was easier to pull up anchor and make the short sail to Simpson Baai to check in there before heading back to Groot Baai for some well-earned rest. Explorations waited for the next day.

Groot Baai turned out to be an interesting place. With nothing quite as described in the pilot, we resorted to the usual technique when we needed information - ask another cruiser. We soon moved close to where the long-term/local boats were anchored to escape the rather rolly conditions further out. The dinghy dock when we found it on our third trip to shore turned out to be a rather dilapidated structure close to one of the water taxi docks; unappealing, but conveniently close to stores and the complex of booths, restaurants and stores along the waterfront boardwalk. At least it was there when we first arrived - after we spent a week in Simpson Baai visiting with one of our daughters and her fiancé we returned to Groot Baai to find the dinghy dock gone, construction all around it, and cruisers docking their dinghies wherever they could. At that point we opted for pulling up on the fishermen’s beach, after making sure that we would not be in anyone’s way.

The town of Philipsburg lies around Groot Baai. From the water it seems built around the tourist trade from the cruise ships that visit daily, sometimes five or six at a time while we were there, and the waterfront hotels and resorts. When the cruise ships arrive the harbour starts to hum with activity. Water taxis run between the cruise ship dock and the town pier, large catamarans and smaller dive boats line up to take passengers for excursions, the resident 12 metres take groups out to sail and “race”. On shore, chairs and umbrellas are set up and personal water craft are wheeled out for rental. In front of stores and restaurants staff stand encouraging passers-by to come in. Competition is fierce, everything has a price and everyone expects a tip. The “hat and bag” ladies move along the beach and board walk, trying to sell their towels that turn into bags and the hats they wear stacked on their heads - a hard job, since they are often ignored, and even those who respond are not always friendly. The only service we found that was free we found by chance - wi-fi, if you accessed the right service from the right place along the beach.

Moving away from the main tourist area takes you into a different world, where the rhythms are quieter and the influence of the many groups which live here more obvious - Dutch school, Haitian eateries, Afro-Caribbean galleries, houses and stores and businesses side by side, a mixture of languages. On one of our walks along Front Street, the main road which runs behind the boardwalk we came upon one of those happy finds - the relatively new Le Saint-Geran Art Gallery. It sits in a small plaza, across from the Oranje School, its bright exterior promising visitors a chance to enjoy the works of local artists and crafters. Our first glance showed that the pictures in the window included more than the usual tourist fare; inside we were drawn first to the inlaid wood pictures of Jean-Pierre Straub, beautifully and subtly executed using a very wide variety of woods in a myriad of shades and grains, so well done that first you notice beauty of the pictures and only afterward recognise the knowledge, art and craftsmanship behind their production. Other pictures drew our attention, work by a range of artists working in different styles and on a variety of themes but united by the common focus on their links to and work in Sint Maarten and the Caribbean. Patricia and Dany Ramsami are the hearts and minds behind the gallery. Dany was there when we visited, friendly and knowledgeable and happy to share with us and other visitors what he knew about the art and artists we looked at. We quickly found out that he had been involved the art world for years; he was passionate about art in general and as well as about art in Sint Maarten/St. Martin in particular, supportive of artists and understanding of their work, and quick to share information that was useful to a visiting artist. The gallery reflects that passion for art, and we enjoyed our visits there so much we decided to put a link to the gallery in the side bar so that you can enjoy it too.

The week we spent in Simpson Baai showed us a different side of Sint Maarten. We were among those who anchored in the bay itself, including some of the megayachts - many more boats of all sizes and types were anchored in the lagoon. The whole area is full of cruisers and the atmosphere is very cruiser friendly. Many boats anchor inside the lagoon, where there are many businesses easily accessed from the water, and many dinghy docks are filled by visiting cruisers taking advantage of being able to find all kinds of services and buy boat parts at reasonable prices. One of the fullest dinghy docks was in front of Shrimpy’s, the restaurant from which the morning cruiser’s net originates. There area cruisers find internet access along with food, drink, laundry facilities and friendly help and advice. We had the pleasure of a small QCYC reunion at Shrimpy’s - Kim and David on Amanzi and Ann and Steve on Recetta happened to be in Simpson Baai lagoon while we were anchored outside. Shortly afterward everyone took off in different directions.

The trip between Groot Baai and Simpson Baai was enlivened by a close look at ABN AMRO, the sailboat that can do 42 knots. She was certainly roaring along at high speed when we saw her. We made the trip between the bays in brisk winds at about 7 knots under a reefed main; they were moving much faster under spinnaker, racing in the Big Boat Races in the Heineken Regatta. Winner of the 2005-06 Volvo Ocean Race, her brightly coloured paint job and speed certainly made her stand out here. Statistics for those interested: 70.5 feet long, 18 feet wide, her mast is 103.3 feet above the water and her keel 15 feet below it. On the move she is a very impressive sight.

We had originally planned to anchor in Marigot Bay, on the French side of the island, but north swells coming into the anchorage encouraged us to make our base on the Dutch side instead. In the end we visited St. Martin briefly by car, spending an afternoon in the town of Marigot and an evening in Grand Case. Our time there was agreeable, a quick round of small galleries and boutique shops in Marigot and a walk and a visit to an excellent restaurant in Grand Case where a look at the anchorage and beach convinced us that this would be a very nice place to stop for a while when next we visit the island. Because we certainly will be back.

Pictures from Nevis

2007-05-13T07:43:00.000-07:00

Pinney's Beach, off which we were anchored during our stay in Nevis. The water was beautiful and clear, ideal for swimming in during the day. The beach was enjoyed by locals and visitors alike, except where two hotels staked their claim to its charms.

On Charlestown's main street old and new mix as traffic flows between businesses housed in older two-storey buildings. They give the feeling of a town which has embraced things more modern without losing its links to its past.

U2Fast was one of the local fishing boats; others had names like Easy Does It and I Am Light. The boats may have been a traditional design, but they were powered by outboards, often in pairs, and moved briskly through the anchored boats morning and evening on the way to and from town.

Looking down from Golden Rock toward the ocean - we came past this coast on our way from Antigua.

In Nevis we visited Golden Rock, a suggestion from fellow cruisers. It is on a former plantation in the coolness of the hills. Various of the old buildings are now converted to other uses - restaurant, guest quarters - and is a pleasant place to visit.

Mount Nevis, with the cloud that almost always hovers over it and Cherub, Paul Johnson's boat, in the foreground.

Chilling in Nevis

2007-05-13T07:27:00.000-07:00

We left Antigua early in the morning, but not quite early enough - we arrived in Nevis in the early evening darkness. The lights from their stadium shone out toward the sea, robbing us of our night vision and we made the turn in toward the harbour earlier than we should have. So when we suddenly found ourselves in an (uncharted) mooring field we decided to drop anchor, made sure we were clear of everything around us, and went to bed. Better to figure things out in the morning.

Early morning light showed us that we had anchored on the town side of the Charlestown pier among local boats, within sight of the anchorage we had picked on our chart. So we upped anchor and made our way past the town pier to a spot off Pinney’s Beach under Nevis Peak before Richard dinghied back to town to look after the formalities of checking in. Clearing in did not take long. With Into The Blue swinging on her anchor just a short dinghy ride from shore we tidied up and by afternoon were heading for the beach to take a look around and begin to get the feel of this island.

It did not take long to walk in to Charlestown, Nevis’ capital. And we found that walking through Charlestown does not take long either - unless you stop to visit the museum, or to see the pictures in the Cafe des Arts, or browse through some of the stores for clothes or souvenirs... Two supermarkets lay at the other end of town, and there was a Chinese grocery store in the middle; there was less expensive internet access close to the supermarkets, as well as an air-conditioned internet cafe closer to the beach (internet access came in the more or less expensive categories - no free wi-fi here). And on the beach itself was the Double Deuce Beach Bar - music all day, pleasant and cruiser friendly, offering cold drinks and good food (though not breakfast, no matter what the sign says - opening late for dinner and drinks and karaoke night makes it a little difficult to get up in time for that). We took notes from the cruising guide they kept on the counter, a great source of information particularly when combined with the knowledge offered by other cruisers, but found out too late about the fresh water outdoor shower we could have used. Next time we’ll know.

Double Deuce is where we met Paul Johnson, who at eighteen sailed across the Atlantic in a dinghy. Now eighty-two, he was aboard Cherub, a double-ended gaff-rigged boat of his own design. He built her to be fast and stable at speeds above theoretical hull speed. Because, he said, he liked to sail fast and enjoyed sailing along the fronts of storm systems where he could whip along at twelve knots or so. The only disadvantage was that sailing like that was a little rough, and his crew tended to leave ship after these episodes. We will remember Paul Johnson, but he probably won’t remember us - we would have been among the many faces at the bar where he enjoyed telling stories and downing largish amounts of alcoholic beverages.

PInney’s Beach was a very nice place to swim and walk and just generally relax and unwind. Other cruisers came and went, charter boats visited, the local fishermen came through a couple of times a day - the route of some of the local boats seemed to vary depending on whether there were any clothing optional boats at anchor at the time. From time to time small cruise ships visited, anchoring out at sea and ferrying their passengers in to Charlestown. Even the Maltese Falcon made a brief stop, as you’ll see from our pictures.

Our trips ashore were very pleasant - friendly greetings, friendly faces, people who welcomed and were glad to help visitors. Our visit to Golden Rock, a former sugar estate in the hills, confirmed this feeling. We went on the recommendation of cruisers we met - a chance to see a little more of the island and perhaps get a picture of the monkeys there. We took the bus from Charlestown, making sure to ask if it was the bus (otherwise it might become a taxi, our friends told us). Knowing we were visitors, the driver went out of his way to drop us closer to where we wanted to go (with the agreement of his passengers). An uphill walk along a winding tree-lined road took us to a pleasant restaurant, where we enjoyed a cold drink and caught a glimpse of the monkeys thanks to the kind ladies who served us - but no pictures, the monkeys never came close enough for pictures. The ladies told us that the monkeys, once pets of the well-to-do, are now pests that raid gardens and garbage for food.

Later we caught the bus back from the local gas station where the lady proprietor also sold cold drinks and snacks from a small store, including home made coconut pastries she made herself. They were very good. She helped make sure we caught the right bus back to Charlestown, and wished us a good journey as we left. Her wishes must have stayed with us right up to our sail to Sint Maarten, since it was one of those fast beam reaches the Alberg 30 seems made for.

The weather changed. A surge developed, the waves making it difficult to land the dinghy on the beach and risky to tie up at the town dock. We were coming to the end of the time we had meant to stay anyway - everything suggested it was time to move on. Checking out formalities were quickly and efficiently completed the afternoon before we left, even though the power went off and forms were filled out in the dim light of an unlit office. The next morning we watched Paul Johnson leave, hauling up his anchor and raising his sails by hand before sailing off on his way south - maybe to Curacao, he said. It was a pleasure to watch Cherub under way. There is something very graceful in the lines of those gaff-rigged sails as they fill with the wind. After he vanished into the distance we pulled up our own anchor and set off ourselves for an overnight sail to Sint Maarten and the prospect of new places to explore.

Jolly Harbour, Antigua

2007-05-13T05:36:00.000-07:00

From the anchorage we could look out to sea, toward Montserrat, Redonda and Nevis. Here the sun is setting; Montserrat peeks from behind the point which helps shelter us.

Most Saturdays there was all-comers racing out of the Jolly Harbour Marina. Our first weekend there we saw the racing fleet sailing out past (and through) the anchorage. Talk about seeing racing up close - there were times we were in the middle of it!

The brown pelicans often perched on the channel marker not too far from us, to groom themselves and rest. Sometimes the wind was strong enough to unbalance them as they perched there...

Every now and then we caught a glimpse of how the other half lives - this mega-yacht paid a visit to the facilities in Jolly Harbour, feeling its way slowly in along the channel. Wonder if the helicopter meant that the owner was on board?

Looking toward the island from where we were anchored, Jolly Harbour in the foreground and the hills fading back into the distance.

Antigua

2007-04-29T13:00:00.000-07:00

We were glad to get to Antigua. Our original plan was to go first to St. John’s, the island’s capital, but with repairs to make we decided to go to Jolly Harbour instead - no park fees, as there are in English and Falmouth Harbours, and a chandlery right on site. And, as we found out, a well-stocked grocery store, access to wi-fi through one of the restaurants (Melini’s) and almost all the other necessities a cruiser looks for. The only disadvantage we could see was the lack of a bank which dealt with international accounts. For that we had to take the bus to St. John’s.

The bus was inexpensive, and it’s route took us out of the gated holiday/retirement community that is Jolly Harbour. Travelling along the roads to St. John’s we saw much that reminded us of the Jamaica we grew up in - goats crossing the road in search of food, a man riding a donkey loaded with sacks, cattle and a few horses grazing in a common. Street vendors sold fruit and drinks by the road, and school children dressed in uniform walked to school or took the bus with us. We passed local restaurants and small shops, and on a particularly bad section of the road a man holding a sign complaining about the state of the road standing beside various suspension parts he claimed had fallen off his car. Someone on the bus always had something to say about that.

St. John’s was also reminiscent of things we had seen before. We walked from the bus station along streets with open drains, the sidewalks either non-existent, very narrow or occupied by street vendors. Loud music blared from competing sound systems as vendors hawked CDs from their booths, and pedestrians walked along the roads with the cars and crossed streets wherever they could find a gap in the traffic. As we got closer to the harbour and the tourist area sidewalks became the norm, and the shopping area and boardwalk by the harbour looked like another world.

Back in Jolly Harbour it did not take long to find out that there was sailboat racing here as well. Our first weekend we saw sails jockeying in the harbour, and then the fleet came out and through the anchorage, using local knowledge to go where we cruisers would not think to. We had a close up look at a few of the boats as the raced past us - a great vantage point to take pictures from, and there were some beautiful boats racing. We were invited to join just before we left - though in fact we could have joined in at any time if we had not been busy doing things like sewing chafe patches on the sails and sewing our dodger windows back in. A month at sea is hard on a boat.

We spent a lot of our time working on the boat and on trying yet again to get our radio fixed, but not all of it. We had time to meet some of the interesting people who came in to anchor, and to visit with people we had met before in our travels and saw again. We benefited from the cruisers’ network - the passing on of knowledge about places we were going to or had been - and shared information with others if it seemed useful to them. If some of the local boats were annoyingly thoughtless as they roared through the channel by the anchorage, others showed themselves to be friendly and helpful; the marina staff certainly were, even though we were not in the marina itself.

If we had stayed in Jolly Harbour or travelled only by boat we would probably have left with a different impression of the island and its people. But because we took the bus, went into local shops and spent time listening to local radio we began to see a different side of Antigua. The feeling in some stores that we did not really belong there was uncomfortable, but even more uncomfortable was having a woman leave one of the buses we were on because she felt there were too many white people on it. Then one day as we listened to a local call in program we heard a caller saying that Jamaicans were unwelcome; we heard one Gwen Davies, a respected teacher, say that black people were out of order to vote with Syrians and white people against the Labour Party; another day we were in the supermarket, where cashiers rarely looked at or spoke to visitors, when a customer began ranting at a man in the line behind her, saying he should go back to Jamaica and all foreigners should go back where they came from. The irony was that the man was an Antiguan - he just happened to be wearing a “Jamaica - no problem” t’shirt!

So when we came to the end of our time in Antigua and the immigration official on duty at the time seemed to feel that we should go to the trouble and expense of leaving and coming back if we wanted to stay longer, we decided that it was time to go. We put the boat into sailing condition and said goodbye to Antigua with few regrets. Next stop: Nevis, a very different experience.

Pictures from Las Palmas and Atlantic Crossing

2007-02-27T12:43:00.000-08:00

The harbour in Las Palmas is home to many different kinds of marine activity. Here Optimist dinghies practice among the anchored boats; a windsurfer does his thing and a freighter waits to be loaded in the background. We also watched Lasers practicing and kayakers training.

This Parque de San Telmo in the older part of Las Palmas was filled with children visiting on the day we walked through - you can see a group of them gathered by the roofed pavilion in the picture. With Christmas coming and school not yet over a visit to the cultural attractions of the old city was a popular way to pass the day.

A square in the older part of the city, gracefully proportioned and nicely framing the approach to the Gabinete Literario.

It looks a little different, but even here McDonald's makes its presence known, framed by columns and balconies, tucked into a building which maintains its old facade on one of the cities main shopping promenades.

Walking down toward the Casa de Colon, the Columbus Museum; the Catedral Santa Ana overlooks the street and its traffic.

The city is putting on its Christmas face, poinsettias adding a splash of colour around the fountain - and the pigeons are cleaning themselves up too...

There is no easy way to capture on film the sense of vastness you get when you are on the ocean. Sunsets spread across the horizon. Here we try to share a small portion of what we see.

A quiet day, flying the drifter in light winds. Salt coats the dodger windows and filters the light shining through the sails.

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From the Canaries to Antigua

2007-02-27T12:38:00.000-08:00

Las Palmas, Gran Canaria.

Las Palmas is not one city, but many. Within it lie older towns, such as the Cuidad del Mar created when the area was being settled in the fifteenth century. Different areas are dominated by different styles of buildings - you can walk through modern apartment buildings into an area of elegant, balconied facades and then into the heart of the old city with its narrow cobbled streets and buildings whose walls lie right along the roads. Within walking distance of the anchorage and marina you can take your choice of visiting the busy commercial area and municipal market to the north east, walking north to swim or walk the beach at the Playa de las Canteras, or heading west or south west to visit the parks and museums of the Cuidad Jardin or Cuidad del Mar. There are areas of beauty, well-groomed promenades and striking sculptures, but stray too far from the main streets around the port and you are aware that the dangers of a city lurk here too.

But then as soon as you arrive you are aware that this is a bustling city, complete with not two but four rush hours when traffic jams the highway along the waterfront - as in Spain, many businesses close in the middle of the day then open again in the afternoon. The beach by the anchorage was a busy place too, especially afternoons and weekends. But most days all would grow quiet as evening progressed into night, kayakers ended their training sessions, sailors out of the Club Nautico or the Club Varadero ended their practices, and basketball or soccer games in the facility on the beach ended; only the port remained busy as ships and tugs and pilot boats came and went. Sometimes we could hear the reverberations from their engines echoing in our boat. After everything else grew quiet, unless the weather was nasty, the beach and its surroundings were the playground of the restless youth, parking their cars by the Real Club Nautico or walking down the stairs from the street. Some mornings you could see that the graffiti makers had been at work - some social commentary, a few pieces of art, a lot of tagging. Late at night or early in the morning a tractor would groom the sand and the garbage bins would be emptied; then the beach would return to its daytime self, home for fishing boats and workshops and marine sports clubs and visited by a few local bathers and fishermen.

We usually took our dinghy into the beach when we went ashore, and it was because of this that we were lucky enough to be invited into a workshop where one of the local wooden racing sailboats was being constructed. Using a combination of gestures and our minimal Spanish and his slight English, we learned that they had almost finished planking the hull, and would be caulking and painting soon. This was a boat similar to the ones we had seen sailing in Arrecife - races between them are part of the sailing calendar, and help to keep the art and craft of constructing them and the skills of sailing them alive. Using a lateen rig and crew for ballast means that they sail very differently from the boats we are used to.

Time ashore included time spent at the Club Maritimo Varadero, where for a minimal fee we enjoyed the pool, sauna, showers and the pleasant club house with its wi-fi access - nice way to get to the internet, and less expensive than buying drinks everyday at the bar down the road - though some people might have preferred that alternative. We also found time to visit the Las Palmas Casa de Colon, where he is supposed to have stayed when he put in here to do repairs (that sounds familiar!). One room has been made into an interesting and well done replica of part of the inside of one of his ships; other rooms illustrate aspects of the history of the times, and there is a small exhibition of art from the sixteenth to the twentieth century with some very intriguing pictures. It was interesting that any visits to the Azores do not seem to have been recorded here!

Las Palmas takes its sailing seriously. Cruisers find a home here with access to all kinds of services and stores, and the Real Club Nautico is a centre for serious racing as well as training - while we were there they hosted Laser and Tornado championship races with sailors from across Europe competing. In the same complex as the marina there are other clubs, including one which houses a fleet of the Canaries lateen rigged racing boats, and was being used as a departure point for a rowboat getting ready to cross the Atlantic. Like us, many cruisers wait until the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers has left to come here to provision and prepare for a crossing to the Caribbean, so we had the pleasure of seeing again many friends and acquaintances we had met in other places. And of meeting new friends.

Winds out of the south helped us make the decision to leave when we did. Unable to get our HF radio repaired (how we missed being able to talk to Herb), we planned to leave with other boats who would be talking to him. But they were in the marina, and the weather that encouraged us to leave encouraged them to stay - as well as the fact that last minute repairs to one of the boats were not complete. We left the harbour early in the morning on December 16, motoring into swells that were already increasing, and set off to begin our journey to Antigua with two days of sailing in lumpy seas and good winds.

Across the Atlantic.

When you set out on a longer voyage you cannot predict what kind of weather you will meet. As it turned out we did meet some heavy weather on this voyage, but only twice and only for relatively short times. Our first Friday out the winds began to build, and the seas grew higher through the day. By afternoon we were sailing with trysail and tiny jib, and the waves were high enough to interfere with the windvanes ability to steer. The coming night would be moonless - making it difficult to see the waves and steer the boat through them. For the first time, we put our drogue out, and were glad to find out it worked very well. The night was far from peaceful, with water slapping the boat from behind and beside, but we could close up the hatch and rest inside in some comfort while the storm blew itself past us, and as usual by next morning the weather was much calmer. Our only other brush with heavy weather was the day we ran into some “convection activity” - high winds and pelting rain, and it caught us with our jib poled out trying to make the best of the lighter winds preceding it. Richard steered until there was a break and we could get the pole down; then we hove to and once again let the bad weather pass. And afterward the sun shone again and the sea was as calm as if the weather had never been.

If we had two days of bad weather, that means we had twenty-six days of good weather. The winds blew a little more or a little less; the waves were a little higher or a little lower. When we could we flew our biggest sail, our drifter; other days we travelled with our sail reefed. After New Years Day we spent the rest of the journey with a reef in our sail - that was the day part of our boom track broke off the mast (the boom was attached to it at the time). Richard made temporary repairs, using the part of the track still attached to the boom, and we travelled a little more slowly the rest of the way.

If New Years was a little more eventful than we liked, Christmas was peaceful. We sailed quietly most of the day, stood our usual watches, and made ourselves a special dinner which we topped off with sinfully delicious triple-chocolate turron. Our only regret was not being able to be in touch with family and friends, especially our daughters. But we had decided that waiting until after Christmas to cross was simply to increase the chance of facing bad weather in the Canaries, and higher waves at sea. As we found out from friends, we were right about the bad weather. And it helps that we like being at sea.

It is difficult to describe what it is like out there. The water stretches out around you, constantly moving, constantly changing. Waves run across waves, and wind makes the surface dance. Occasionally another ship or boat breaks the vista - but we saw very few this trip. The sky is arches unbroken overhead, and you see the clouds move under it and the weather as it comes across the water. Everything is vast; away from the many small distractions of land there is a sense of privacy, time to explore your own thoughts, a sense of how little we are in relation to the world we live in. Sunsets and sunrises surround you, the stars overhead fill the sky on a moonless night, the moon provides more light that you are aware of when surrounded by manmade lights. You spend time standing watches, navigating, changing sails, cleaning, maintaining, taking care of yourself and the boat. Time passes, and then as your journey comes to an end you have to make the adjustment to dealing with shore life again...

We knew the end of our journey was coming when, two days in a row, tropicbirds came to visit us, and we saw frigate birds soaring on thermals high above the water in the distance. The wind picked up during the night before we made landfall, bringing us close to the island in the early morning darkness. We hove to, and in the hours before daylight passed to the south of Antigua. Come daylight we sailed again, and made landfall in Jolly Harbour on the morning of January twelfth. We were back in the Caribbean.

Images of Haria and Arrecife, Lanzarote

2006-12-14T07:27:00.000-08:00

This is an early afternoon in the town square in Haria, in the north of the island. The area is one of the few in Lanzarote where the availability of water means that there is an abundance of trees and plants.

Looking out from Haria toward slopes terraced for farming. Some of them are still cultivated, and where they are you can see the plants growing green against the black volcanic pebbles used to shelter the soil from sun and wind and conserve moisture.

The view out to sea from the Modern Art Museum in the Castillo de San Jose, one of the spots we loved in Arrecife.

Evening falls over the Charco de San Gines, the tidal sea water lagoon in the city of Arrecife where many of the smaller fishing boats and other local boats have their moorings. The church of San Gines is in the background.

Art and daily life mix in the city of Arrecife, and some times the effects are odd...

While we were in Arrecife the East wind blew in clouds of sand from the Sahara. It filled the air with a reddish brown haze, hiding the nearby hills and creating a spectacularly different sunset.

Arrecife, Lanzarote

2006-12-14T07:24:00.000-08:00

Our time in Arrecife began with what we now think of as “Adventures in Anchoring”. The Puerto de Naos, tucked up at the southern end of Arrecife’s harbours, is one of the safest anchorages in the Canaries. Unlike most, it provides protection from all directions. It is also crowded with moorings, mostly occupied by smaller local boats, and has become a place of choice for cruisers settling in for a long term stay - two boats we were told had already been there for about a year, two others for two years. Then there were some abandoned boats, slowly deteriorating over time as they sat and rotated in tide and wind on their moorings. We dropped our anchor first in the only space we could see at the time, and spent too much time watching and worrying about how close we would swing to the boats moored near by.

So we took the first opportunity we could to move to a more open space among other boats swinging to anchors. We dropped the hook, and felt it grab, then stayed aboard for a couple of hours just to be sure. So imagine our horror when we came back from a trip ashore to find our boat rafted to another (rather bigger) one - and how profusely we thanked those aboard Tigress for corralling our dragging boat. Re-anchored, we sat aboard as the wind came up. Some hours into the blow, we could feel her moving again, so up with the anchor - and the two tyres which were attached to it. We tried reanchoring not far away, but were not satisfied that the anchor was holding - finally, we found a spot closer to moored boats than we liked - but at least the anchor was holding. And this time we were given very good advice by Trevor on Nergal - drop the anchor, but do not pull on it, the bottom being too soft - best to let the anchor sink by itself. We dropped and held, and in the morning decided our best chance was to swing like a moored boat. Two more anchors out, and we were finally in a spot we could stay in, and did for the next few weeks. But we never felt comfortable leaving Into The Blue for long.

Much of our time off the boat was spent walking around Arrecife. It is an interesting town, in the process of transition from a major fishing port to something else, a mix of tourist destination and business and government centre. Abandoned buildings where homeless people squat, the presence of beggars in the downtown commercial area, a profusion of graffiti - a few pictures and a lot of tagging - these and other things suggest that the transition is not an easy one. But we also found ourselves walking through beautifully landscaped and designed areas, enjoying the murals and sculptures we found along the streets and appreciating the very human scale of building we found here - only one high rise in the whole town and that a hotel. Much of what we enjoyed reflected the influence of one man, Cesar Manrique, and his supporters. And one of the places we most enjoyed in Arrecife was the Museo Internationale de Arte Contemporaneo in the Castillo de San Jose, a fort which was beautifully restored to house the museum under Manrique’s guidance.

We did take the time to travel by bus to Haria, a town in the northern part of Lanzarote. We had hoped to visit the Museo del Arte Sacre there, but found it closed for repairs. So we simply enjoyed the atmosphere of this town with its graceful public spaces and profusion of plants and its views of the surrounding hillsides with their terraces now only partly cultivated. On the drive to Haria we travelled through the hills, and saw the sloping fields covered with black lava pebbles with rows of bright green leaves growing through them. One field was being worked by two men guiding a small plough pulled by a mule. Occasionally we caught a glimpse of the coast from high above before we began the descent down a steep narrow road into the narrow roads of the town, roads not built for the kind of traffic they bear now. Our drive back took us along the coast roads a ways, before we turned back inland. And as we travelled we saw examples of Manrique’s influence - some of his wind toys, giant mobiles, in one of the roundabouts we passed, his former home which now houses the foundation he created, the cactus garden he designed - and these just a small part of the work he has done here. His work is so wide-ranging that you can only wonder at his ingenuity, creativity and strength.

Time, as it always seems to do, flew past. We did some work on the boat, and finally came to the point where we needed the facilities of Las Palmas - for the second time, we needed our radio fixed. So we left Arrecife and the Puerto de Naos, leaving behind its older men gathered mornings and evenings on the dock by the rescue boat and the pilot boat, spending their time watching the comings and goings in the harbour and enjoying their arguments and discussions. We left behind the few fishermen in their small local boats who still went out to fish - we often waved to them as they went past, and sometimes they even slowed down as they went past us - and they waved to us as we left. We learned from our friend Trevor that you can pull anchors up by dinghy as well as laying them out, and with his help we we retrieved anchors and set off on a cloudy morning for an overnight sail to Gran Canaria and the anchorage in Las Palmas.

The sail from Graciosa to Arrecife had been pleasant; a day sail with good enough winds to get us there in plenty of time to enter the harbour in daylight and find a spot to anchor. That must be why Mother Nature decided to make our sail to Las Palmas a little more eventful - starting with brisk winds, which then became stronger and on the nose, until shortly after midnight when they turned light and behind us. We went from reefed sails to as much sail as possible, and managed to get to Las Palmas shortly after dark the day after we set out, slightly battered and worn and glad to drop anchor and sleep. And now we have another city to explore, while we get ready for our trip across the Atlantic to the Caribbean.

October in Graciosa

2006-12-07T09:05:00.000-08:00

When we think of this past October we will think of the beauties of Graciosa with its golden sand dunes and brown, ochre and red-gold volcanic cones. We spent almost the whole month there, exploring and enjoying the simpler life of a small island. There are no paved roads; sand roads and tracks cross the dunes instead. Four wheel drive vehicles carry visitors and locals when needed, and everyone else walks or bicycles - though in this sandy terrain cyclists are likely to find they are doing as much pushing as pedalling. Visitors arrive by boat or ferry to swim, surf, camp and walk, especially in the summer - by October the tourist season was coming to an end. Still we saw the tourist boats pulling into the anchorage almost every day that we were there bringing people to swim and kayak, off the beaches, and the ferries arrived full of beach-goers on the weekends and left packed with sunburnt and sandy passengers on Sunday evenings. Still, the winds were building and the weather starting to cool - while we were there we hunkered down for three very windy days in the anchorage off Playa Francesa (winds from from the north-east) and there were more while we were in the marina, this time from the south. None of which discouraged us lingering for a while, meeting friends and exploring.

Graciosa is an island that repays exploration. When we first approached it looked almost barren. But walking through the sand dunes you pass clumps of plants that are spreading through the dunes and begin to notice the birds, insects and occasional lizard among their low scrubby growth. You see the flowers that bloom among what look like dead, dry twigs and the leaves that suddenly appear after any rain. In the towns people create little oases of greenery, cultivating small gardens of cactus, palms or tropical flowers like hibiscus. Some create their gardens outside their houses for all to enjoy, others in inside courtyards we sometimes glimpsed through unshuttered windows. In some of the gardens plants grew among black volcanic pebbles used to collect dew and hold water and send it down to their roots.

So we spent time walking. We walked with friends along the shore between the island’s two towns, finding unexpected golden beaches among the rocks and enjoying the blues and greens of the ocean. We walked up two of the volcanic cones along trails which wound over rocky ground and along small, eroded gullies, and looked out over the island from their slopes. We found stone walls looking as if they marked off fields or property, and places where people had used some of the plentiful stones to build small shelters - on the beach or at the top of a trail, or in the camping area. We were able to look closely at a house wall built the old way - from loose stones closely packed and curved around the room within - such wall have survived for hundreds of years. We saw how tanks were built beside some of the houses to collect water, and roofs used as catchment areas - difficult to keep clean when the house is close to the harbour and gulls. We even found a small farm with horses, goats, chickens and dogs, surprising in a place where there is no real grazing. And when we were not walking we spent time swimming and snorkelling, off the boat and from the beaches, observing how the old lava flows have created clefts and crevices where fish, squid and octopus swim and feed.

Being in the marina at Calheta del Sebo meant being in the harbour around which much of the activity on the island revolves. The ferry boats come and go from here, and so do the local tourist boats. Work boats bring in building and other supplies, and fishing boats come and go. There is a travel-lift, and the fishing boats are hauled, maintained and repaired in an area by the dock. Fish are frozen and stored in a building close by, and we saw small fish spread out to dry under fishing nets used to keep the gulls away close to the slipway.

The marina is one of the few places in the Canaries which is safe in almost any weather, offering shelter from all directions. Cruisers are beginning to discover its advantages, and many people who arrive intending to stay a few days end up staying a few months. The atmosphere there is relaxed and the security good. The only catch is that there is often no space for the new arrival, so it takes a combination of luck and timing to get a spot. There would be more room if the number of available spaces had not been reduced by damage from last years freak hurricane, and this may take a while to change since we saw no signs that the damage will be fixed soon - we were told that things do not happen very quickly here. We decided that it was best not to leave until we were sure we would not be tempted to return - so we waited until we were ready to head for the main island of Lanzarote before we finally said goodbye to friends met and seen again and cast off the dock lines for a brisk sail to Arrecife. But more about that next time...

Graciosa Pictures

2006-12-07T08:11:00.000-08:00

We came across flowers blooming on small dry plants growing wild in the dunes, dark reds and delicate creamy colours among the dry brown stalks.

Here fishermen are working just outside the anchorage at Playa Francesa on Graciosa. The large boat waits as the smaller ones lay out nets and reel them in, while a diver in the water keeps an eye on the catch. The mount of the net will be closed with the fish inside, and once that has been done the big boat will come and lie alongside the boat which has the net, and the fish will be loaded on to it by hand.

Plants are spreading through the dunes of Graciosa, doing their part to anchor the sand around the volcanic cones which rise above them. Almost all the growth we saw outside the cultivated gardens of the towns was low, brown and scrubby, at least until you looked closer.

Looking out over the dunes and slopes of Graciosa toward the coast of Lanzarote on a day when it was shrouded in haze.

Our walk between Caleto del Seba and Pedro Barba took us over a rocky trail past ocean tumbling on to rocks and beaches.

Alright, for those who asked - here is a picture of us on the trail between Caleta del Sebo and Pedro Barba on the island of Graciosa. It was a good hike along the coast through some beautiful scenery, with good friends - worth the tired legs we ended up with...

We passed this whimsical garden on one of our walks in Caleta del Sebo. In spite the general dryness of the climate, we found gardens with bougainvillea and hibiscus, as well as thriving palms trees and cactus. The stones are like those used in the old style of building, and the houses and fences built with stone walls have curves rather than squared off corners.

Porto Santo, Madeira and Graciosa, Canaries

2006-10-17T11:35:00.000-07:00

This is the town square in Vila Baleira, Porto Santo, Madeira - on this Sunday, only some of the cafes were open, and there were few people around until later in the day when they drifted up from the beach. It was also the free wi-fi zone, shared by inhabitants and visitors alike to reach the rest of the world.

Looking along the beach on the south coast of Porto Santo from Vila Baleira toward the harbour of Porto Santo where we anchored. It was late in the day - earlier the beach was full of people sunbathing, swimming and playing.

The sun is setting over the island of Porto Santo in a bright silver haze after a hot day.

From the breakwater of the Marina on Graciosa you can look across the narrow gulf toward the much larger island of Lanzarote. The slopes you see changed colour and definition constantly, from muted grey to warm gold, from misty shapes to sharply defined slopes and chasms.

A different mood: the sun is setting on a cloudy evening over the anchorage at Playa Francesa.

This house down toward the eastern end of the village of Caleta del Sebo actually had a lot of greenery around it - the cactus to the right was also sporting a groom, mop, and sundry other bits of cleaning equipment whenwe passed.

The coast of Lanzarote travelling west from Graciosa, with its volcanic cones and lava plains and its sand blown in from the Sahara. The light in this whole area is constantly changing, as the haze of sand and dust grows less or more and the clouds and spray and morning mist come and go.

At the beginning of September we left Praia da Vitoria on Terceira for Porto Santo, the smaller island off Madeira. We enjoyed a couple of day with good winds, which dropped on our third day out. For the next three days we had light winds and slow sailing, days in which we meandered along covering between forty-five and seventy miles a day. Then the winds picked up and we moved briskly along again, arriving in Porto Santo seven days and about seven hundred miles later.

Having arrived there we would have liked to stay longer in Porto Santo, and to have visited Funchal on the main island of Madeira, but were discouraged by a change in policy which saw sailboats anchored outside the harbours being charged commercial rates for the time they spent there. Some people we spoke to about this opted not to visit Madeira at all; others who found out about it while they were there refused to pay - those in the most difficult position were boats which had anchored out while waiting for daylight to enter a harbour, and were told about the charges only after they were in a marina.

Government policies and their effects aside, Porto Santo itself was a pleasant place to visit. We anchored in the inner harbour for a relatively small charge, and found the people we dealt with friendly , polite and quick to help. From the harbour we bicycled in to the town of Vila Baleira where we were able to pick up supplies and take advantage of the free wi-fi which we found in the town centre. Several afternoons found us sitting with our computer on one of the stone ledges surrounding the town square, along with other visitors and some of the local young people - while we picked up e-mail and checked weather, others were listening to music and chatting. An interesting example of the way the long arm of the internet reaches more and more places now.

We liked what we saw of Vila Baleira, which is an attractive town fronted by a long and beautiful beach which literally stretches for miles, the beach being the main attraction for many of the visitors who come to the town by plane or boat or ferry. On the Sunday we were there we found the beach filled with visitors and locals alike - then it suddenly emptied in the late afternoon and we noticed that many of the people from the beach made their way to an ice cream booth in the town square which did a couple of hours of brisk business. Though our stay was short, the day we left we managed to fit in a visit to the Christopher Columbus Museum - there are several scattered through the Azores and Canaries in places where he is known to have stopped. We enjoyed the way the exhibit placed Columbus’ stay in Porto Santo in the context of the marine history of the times as well as the history of the island. Though the exhibits were presented and explained in Portuguese there were translation sheets in every room for those of us who speak English - a great help.

We stayed three nights and four days in Porto Santo and left on a windy evening with the gusts funnelling down off the mountains. The wind was with us all the way to Graciosa, the most north easterly inhabited island of and our first stop in the Canaries. We had a fast, hard sail getting there, covering the two hundred and ninety miles in less than two and a half days and spending several hours with the boat hove to off the coast waiting for daylight before we entered the harbour. The sun rose to show us the island of Graciosa on one side of the channel and the towering cliffs of Lanzarote on the other, a landscape we have been enjoying ever since.

Our first couple of days in Graciosa were spent sleeping; in between we managed to find the supermarkets - the restaurants and bars were easy to see. On our fourth day here we moved out of the marina and anchored off a beach about forty-five minutes walk from the village, Playa Francesa. And there we stayed with the days just drifting past, finding it very easy in this setting to relax and slow down. We did some boat work, repairing and maintaining; walked into town for supplies every three or four days; and swam off the boat most days, enjoying the clear water and clean conditions. When we first got to the anchorage there were only five other boats there, but over time the number grew until, at the maximum, we had about twenty boats there, large and small. Most were European - French, Dutch, German, Norwegian, Swedish, English, Spanish - though we did meet the crew of one American boat and of a couple of boats from Australia, and glimpsed a Canadian boat which changed its mind on its way into the anchorage and headed for the marina.

A few mornings we were able to watch small local fishing boats at work close by - they are well maintained and colourful, and the men on them travel around the area they are working in and look for fish before they set out their nets. They look the old fashioned way - standing on the bow of the boat looking into the water, or using glass-bottomed box-like instruments to see below the surface. Considering how difficult fish can be to see against the bottom, it must take a combination of sharp eyes and experience to be good at finding them - but then fishing has been a way of life here for a long time.

You wonder if they notice the beauty of the landscape they are working and living in. You also wonder about the kinds of conditions which have lead to the building of the thick-walled white painted houses with their small shuttered windows that people live in in the village. Partly it must be because the original houses were constructed with the material most available here - volcanic rocks, which were piled into thick, sometimes curving walls for the houses and sometimes the property around them. Building on such sandy soil must also have had an impact on the design - but so far we have not been able to learn much about such things. Perhaps in the future.

One fascinating thing we have noticed here is that the light changes all the time, and with it the colour and textures of the landscape. Lanzarote’s cliffs can be steely grey in the morning, washed out brown at midday, and full of detail and colour in the evening. The coast of Lanzarote falls away to the west in a series of plains and volcanic cones, sometimes looking soft and misty and at others standing out starkly beautiful. The dunes on Graciosa change colour in the light too, from almost white to golden yellow, the vegetation on them sometimes dry brown, sometimes green interlaced with brown and black. The clouds come over the cliffs of Lanzarote - indeed they are there most mornings - and soften the starkness of their outlines. Perhaps not a place which is beautiful in the conventional way, but beautiful all the same.

We will stay here a while longer, and explore the island more before we move on to Lanzarote and the work of the architect/artist Cesar Manrique.

Pictures from Terceira, Azores

2006-08-23T16:53:00.000-07:00

Throughout the town festival in Praia da Vitoria the streets along which the parades travelled were decorated with lights and the poles were draped in fabric. Businesses stayed open, and the cafes were always full to overflowing.

The town square was all lit up for its part in the Festival. Every night people gathered there to watch the parades (a different one every night), and to enjoy the performances of groups in the parades, followed by another performance on the stage erected at the top of the square, in front of the post office.

When we visited Angra they were getting ready for a Festa there. The main streets were busy, decorated and narrow - and of course from the harbour everything is up.

The start of a race - round an island to the north of Praia and back, nine miles in all. Starboard or port start, in the end it did not seem to make much difference...

Looking at the marina at Praia da Vitoria, from the breakwater which protects it. There are two Canadian boats in this picture: ourselves,the light blue hull on the right and Joint Venture, the Alberg 37 yawl with the green sail cover, dodger, bimini and weather cloths. There were American, German, French and English boats here as well, and one of the boats racing was Polish. There is also an active fleet of local racers.

The pavements and sometimes the streets are decorated with patterns created from dark and light stones. This part of this street in Praia da Vitoria from the beach to the square is for pedestrians only.

Looking down from a hill above Praia da Vitoria toward the marina and beaches.

It was a windy day, and this sailor was out for an exciting ride.

Praia da Vitoria, Terceira, Azores

2006-08-23T16:09:00.000-07:00

We arrived in Praia da Vitoria, Terceira just before the start of the annual ten day festivals held every August. There are two festivals held at the same time - a gastronomic festival, with top regional restaurants (and this year a Mexican one) serving their dishes in mini-restaurants under tents close to the marina, and the town’s festival. And this is a town that really knows how to put on a festival...

We became night owls for the duration. Every night (except one) there was a parade, starting with the first night’s bands and dancers and small but beautiful floats. Followed by parades of bands, folklore parades, a children’s parade, a parade of clowns,and finishing with an international folk dance parade with groups from countries like Ireland, Holland, Norway... And these parades were nothing like the parades we are accustomed to. True, the crowd lined the streets. They also walked through the streets in the interval between one group’s passing and the next or stood chatting on the parade route until the next group came along or followed along behind one of the bands or groups. In the square was one of the best places to be; the older folk sat along the parade route in chairs provided by the town council, and almost every band stopped to perform for them and the rest of the crowd gahered there. Because that was part of the parade too - instead of moving along the parade route, the dancers stopped to dance, the singers to sing, the clowns to make fun, the floats to be admired. If we were in a hurry or coming late to a parade we could start working our way up the route from the end toward the beginning and see all of it. The square was our favourite place to watch from for another reason too - there was a cafe selling very good ice cream there.

After the parades came music. In the square there was folk music and dancing - each island has its own dances, somewhat different from the others. Or there were band concerts, or youth groups performing. In the Club Navale, close to the marina, there were concerts by local groups. At the bandstand by the beach there was a mixture of local bands and others from “away” , doing everything from great sixties and seventies covers to jumping jazz to a heart-pounding combination of drums and bagpipes to a young local group doing Beach Boys and Elvis tunes. For the younger crowd there was a club/disco tent. And the music was topped off with a Blues Festival - we thoroughly enjoyed the two performances we went to, Cajun blues belted out by Lisa Haley and the Zydecats and stadium blues with John Lee Hooker Jr. And there was food everywhere.

The final day there was a bullfight, Terceira style, on the beach. No harm was done to the bulls, or to anyone competing. The bull was (somewhat) restrained by eight men, four each at the end of long ropes. Then it was a matter of seeing which of the many young men present would tease the bull into running after him. Many of them took to the water when the bull approached - but so did the bull from time to time. Traditionally teasing the bull seems to have been done with umbrellas - waving them around in front of a bull does get his attention, as two of the young men on the beach demonstrated. The bull moved quickly to drive away those annoying things waving around in front of him; the young men themselves managed to stay well clear of the bull’s horns, even if they did have to move very rapidly from time to time, and when they closed the umbrellas the bull quickly lost interest in them.
It seemed that every group found some way to take part in the festival. We saw divers bring up a sunken car - they had sunk it themselves after carefully removing all toxic or dangerous material. We saw demonstrations of rock climbing, table tennis, beach volleyball, and missed others - like skateboarding and the Portuguese Air Force helicopter demonstration. There was a regatta, with sailboats racing about twenty miles from Angra, one day, then racing in the harbour the next. The windsurfers did not seem to be officially a part of anything, but we certainly enjoyed seeing them flying by whenever the wind picked up.

We heard rather than saw firecrackers from time to time during the festival (and after). They went off with great bursts of noise during the day or early evening, and were used among other things to announce the beginning of the bull fight and the changing of the bulls. But on the last night, at midnight, there was a spectacular fire works display, and the night filled with noise and colour and music. It was a great way to end.

After that it took a little time to recover, but recover we have. We have enjoyed the beaches here and taken a little time to walk around and see more of Praia and to visit the other big city in Terceira, Angra do Heroismo. In Angra we discovered they have a wonderful museum, full of history and paintings and including a chapel full of religious art. We walked around it far too rapidly, and it is one of the reasons we have decided we have to come back here and spend more time. That and the friendliness we have found here and the fact that there is so much more to see and do, so many more places to go. We have barely scratched the surface. And it does not hurt that the harbour is sheltered and the marina protected and the cost of staying here very reasonable.

Tomorrow, the winds being right, we will set off for Sao Miguel. But we will be back.

The Island of Flores, Azores

2006-08-11T08:09:00.000-07:00

These rocks lie off the coast of Flores, close to the harbour at Santa Cruz. The harbour itself is tiny and difficult to access, and yachts are no longer encouraged to go there since the breakwater at Port das Lajes was built.

The town of Santa Cruz, overlooked by a hill with one house visible at it's summit - as well as various communication towers. You can see the red tiled roofs which are everywhere, set off against the white walls of the houses. Almost all the houses have blinds or shutters to keep the sun out.

The sea swirls in eddies and rips around the rocks off Santa Cruz, beautiful to see though it would be terrifying to be among them. We were glad to be seeing them from on shore...

Houses, cafes and shops perch on the hillside above the harbour at Ponta das Lajes - the western-most point of Europe. At the top, the church overlooks harbour and port. There are still some of the old stone buildings, black stones outlined with white. The old cobblestone streets are also made of black stone, and black and white stones make patterns along the pavements.

This is the anchorage at Lajes, looking down from the street above. The black sand beach is very popular with the children and young people of Lajes, who spend summer afternoons swimming and jumping off nearby rocks and the dock.

Flores really is the island of flowers. These were growing by the roadside along which we walked almost every day up to the town above the harbour in Lajes.

Horta, Faial

2006-08-11T07:26:00.000-07:00

This museum, which gives the history of the Capelinhos volcano and the effect its eruption had on the lives of those living nearby, is housed in one of the island's old stone houses, carefully restored and with a few more modern features added. You can still see houses like this in some places, though many have fallen into disrepair and others have been improved beyond recognition.

Ponta dos Capelinhos was the site of the most recent volcanic eruption in the islands of the Azores. A volcano erupted just off the point in 1957, and continuing eruptions created a new area of land joined to Faial itself. The area is dramatic, steep slopes and dark sandy soil with the sea lapping below.

An old windmill, carefully preserved but no longer in use. It's sails are tethered and its stairs anchored to the ground so that the top of the windmill will no longer revolve to take best advantage of the wind.

Like many other islands, Faial is proud of it's "natural swimming pools". On a calm day, this wouldhave been a very inviting place to go swimming in spite of the steep climb down.

From the Monte da Guia you can look down past the beach at Porto Pim to the harbour and marina at Horta. The Monte da Guia and the smaller Monte Queimado are both volcanic cones.

Windmills for producing electricity tower above the farms and houses outside Horta. We saw cattle in some of the fields as well as a few horses, and hay bails wrapped in a white plastic covering.

From Horta and the island of Sao Jorge you can see the island of Pico, with it's volcanic cone towering high above. Sometimes shrouded in clouds, sometimes lightly veiled, sometimes clear - Pico has many moods. Here is the mountain at sunset, seen from Horta's marina.

Flores and Faial

2006-08-11T07:25:00.000-07:00

The Island of Flores, Azores

Our voyage from Bermuda to Flores in the Azores was one of those trips that make you glad you are out there in a sailboat. We spent eighteen days on the bluest of oceans, visited by dolphins and flying fish and petrels and shearwaters. We listened well to Herb on Southbound II, and travelled much further north than we had ever thought we would to stay in good winds and favourable currents. And good winds and favourable currents we had most of the way, as well as the company of other boats on the radio and friends waiting for us when we made landfall.

Our first sight of Flores was breathtaking. It was dawn, and the sun was beginning to rise. We first saw the island as a great dark rock rising out of the ocean, steep-sided and stark. Then as the sun rose higher it began to soften - we could see the cliffs were topped with trees and hilly slopes covered with a patchwork of green fields. The port of Lajes lay below the cliffs, it’s breakwater a solid line with masts behind it below the buildings that were becoming visible, climbing up the hill into the village proper. We could see rising layers of red tiled roofs, some above old stone walls, the black stones outlined in white, others topping painted cement walls. Above the harbour we could see the church, two cupolas either side of a scalloped triangle of roof with a cross on top. It looked, somehow, exotic.

On shore, we found that every place was up from the harbour. Some of the cruisers nicknamed the trek from harbour to the main street through the town of Lajes the cardiac climb, since only the very fit could make it without feeling their hearts pounding and their breaths coming short. On the other hand, we told ourselves, it was sure to make us fitter. We told ourselves that every time we climbed it... It helped that much of the road, here as in the rest of the island, was bordered by beautiful flowers, big and bright. We saw them in parks and gardens as well - though many of the gardens, front and back, in Lajes were used mainly to cultivate a wide variety of vegetables. That, we were told, was why there was not much of a selection in the stores - almost everyone grew their own. And there were chickens and sheep around the town as well.

In Lajes almost every cruiser and a great many other visitors as well frequent the Cafe Beira Mar, where the owner, Paula, serves as a gateway to Lajes, and to Flores as a whole, as well as being a source for fresh vegetables and fresh-laid eggs. She speaks excellent English, and is ready with information and help of all kinds, including translation services when necessary. To top it all off, the food she serves in her cafe is excellent, something we learned when our first and second evenings were spent watching World Cup football with friends there. It was surprisingly quiet for a group of soccer fans - it would probably have been a lot noisier and certainly much happier if Portugal had won the consolation match.

There may not have been much celebrating then, but the Feast of the Emigrants made up for that. It takes place over a four day weekend, mostly in the evenings, with booths and concerts and on Sunday a free beef lunch (broth with bread soaked in it, and platters with beef prepared two different ways). The lunch is served complete with wine, juice and water at rows of tables set up in the largest building in town, a well-cleaned out municipal garage. Most years there are hundreds of people there but this year the inter-island ferry failed to run, as it has for months, and most of the expected visitors did not come. The festivities went on anyway, and we saw two concerts, one of them including traditional music and dancing, and a magnificent display of fireworks on the cliff above the harbour. There should have been more people there to enjoy it - hopefully the ferry will run again very soon, and the island will benefit from having more visitors.

We visited Flores’ capital, Santa Cruz, by land. The drive there was along winding roads, with views that tempt the visitor to stop frequently. We saw the harbour there, and were glad that the harbour in Lajes has been improved. The coast by Santa Cruz is laced with rocks; the sea foams green around them. The harbour itself is tricky to get into, and tiny. We would not have felt at all comfortable there. Access to Lajes is much easier, but even there one has to mind the weather and watch the direction and strength of the wind. When we left for Horta it was not so much because we wanted to leave Flores as because the coming weather was going to make the anchorage a very uncomfortable place to be. And so we left for Faial, and that place well known to many sailors - Horta.

We planned on the trip, about a hundred and thirty miles, taking about twenty four hours, and left Flores shortly after nine o’clock on a Thursday morning. That way it would certainly be daylight when we arrived off Faial, and if the trip took a little longer than anticipated that would be fine as well. But we were on a broad reach all the way in winds averaging twenty knots, and arrived in Horta only twenty-two hours after we left Flores, earlier than anticipated! We approached the island on a hazy morning, thankful for the GPS co-ordinates that helped us be sure of where we were. There was not much time for sleep along the way, and the journey was too short to settle into a routine, so we spent most of our first day in Horta sleeping...

Horta being one of those destinations favoured by many cruisers, a lot of the people we have met along the way were either here before us or came in shortly after. And it is no wonder many people stop here - a sheltered marina at very reasonable rates, access to shopping and many kinds of services. lots of good company, lots of cafes, bars and restaurants, a constantly changing view of the cone of Pico, across the channel, from your cockpit- all this, and a whole island to explore too. And everything kept immaculately clean - the garbage bins in the marina are emptied three times a day!

The most dramatic scenery to be found in Faial is at the site of the volcano which erupted just off the island in 1957. By the time the eruptions were finished, the volcano had created an island which then became linked to Faial, the nearby lighthouse had been destroyed and many houses in the nearby village were buried under the ash it created. Many of the people displaced moved to North America; John F. Kennedy came specifically to invite them to the United States to resettle there. The landscape left behind is stark, mountains and cliffs of rock and lava rising out of dark, sandy soil. The ruins of a lighthouse still stand there, and not far away you can see the roofs of buried houses. It is an awesome reminder of the power of the earth.

After that the rest of the coast and the fields of Faial feel gentler. Much of the island is green and dotted with houses and hay bales and cattle and horses; there is more flat land here than in Flores. Although the land still slopes precipitously to the sea in many places, and some towns tumble down old volcanic slopes, the ranks of red-tiled roofs arranged along narrow roads. Old and new mix: on one ridge we saw a few old windmills, carefully preserved, and on another close by a row of new windmills for producing electricity. As in Flores, the churches are prominent, very much a part of people’s lives as well as helping preserve both tradition and sacred art. The museum in Horta has a room full of sacred art, as well as a room devoted to carvings using the pith of fig trees, very fine, delicate, detailed depictions of ships and buildings and people. Yet another room showcases current artists.

Horta is getting ready to put on her best face for Sea Week as we write , painting buildings and kiosks, stringing up lights, setting up booths, removing dead trees along the sidewalk and putting in new plants - like a house being prepared for special visitors. We will miss the festivities - we hope to be heading for Terceira and the summer festivals there by the time Sea Week arrives. But in the meantime we enjoy the hustle and bustle and seeing Horta’s waterfront getting all dressed up. And it will be interesting to see how Flores and Faial compare to our next stop...

Some Bermuda Pictures

2006-06-16T11:52:00.000-07:00

The sun is setting over St. George and the anchorage is filled with boats waiting for a good opportunity to continue their voyages. Some, like us, are going to Horta in the Azores, others are en route to the United States or the Canadian East Coast. There are flags from Britain, France, Denmark, Germany, St. Kitts/Nevis, flown on sloops, yawls, ketches and even schooners of all sizes.

Small cruise ships also moor in St. George (as in only ten storeys or so high). They are one of the reasons that Bermuda Radio monitors all arrivals and departures - no other vessels is going to be able to transit the main cut into the harbour when one of these is going in or out.

These dinghies were racing out of the East End Mini Yacht Club (in the pink building), through the cruising boats and across the harbour. They looked as if they were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

From St. George we walked to Fort St. Catherine. On the way we passed beaches and there was a golf course that the roads ran through. The road going up to the Fort overlooked this small beach and gave us a different view of the other roads we had walked along.

All kinds of people ride scooters - all ages, shapes and sizes. Bermudans on their scooters seem so comfortable that it looks as if they were born riding them...

In the middle of this picture is one of the Fitted Dinghies, with its long bowsprit, large sails and low freeboard (sides). Six is the standard number aboard, necessary to keep the boat as level as possible and bail when needed - which seems to be often.

Downtown in Hamilton, capital of Bermuda, on a Saturday morning. There are lots of cars and scooters on the streets, and pedestrians on the sidewalks. People are out shopping and looking; for the young people we saw it seemed to be a "see and be seen" kind of day and place.

Working on the boat in Miami

2006-06-16T11:45:00.000-07:00

The sun is setting over Biscayne Bay, as we look out from Hurricane Harbor. After working away , this was the part of the day which we most often enjoyed, watching the sun set and the birds and boaters settling in for the night.

The interior layout of our boat has been changing as we travel. Here you can see part of the starboard side, complete with fireplace, bin behind seat for supplies we want ready to hand while voyaging, food hammock and ventilation holes in the lockers and bulkheads.

Further aft on the starboard side: the table is tied back for traveling and has a storage area underneath it for larger pots and pans. It serves as our nav table while underway. Beside it the cooler has been set into the shelf; you can catch a glimpse of the potholders we had heightened to hold the pressure cooker. The curtains covering the outboard bin are meant to contain any implement trying to leave its normal place...

In the middle, the vee-berth is packed and ready to go, bicycles upright on either side and miscellaneous gear farther forward. The berth on the port side is made up for travel, with the lee cloth lying across it ready to be put up.

Leaving in the evening, the wind finally favourable - Key Biscayne is behind us as we motor out the channel and get ready to set our sails and wind vane on our way to Bermuda.

Bermuda

2006-06-16T11:25:00.000-07:00

We knew that Bermuda was nothing like the Bahamas before we even got there. As you approach the coast by boat, about thirty miles or so off, you are expected to radio in to Bermuda Radio. They take information about your boat - type, size, equipment, number of people, expected time of arrival outside St. George’s Harbour. And they follow up - if you do not radio that you are at the entrance to the harbour at the time estimated, they call to ask for your current position and a new ETA. We were beating up the coast when they called to find out why we were not requesting permission to enter the harbour yet. If you do not radio in, they will call you - with a description of your vessel and your position. From their position on top of the hill overlooking St. George's they watch the coasts and monitor vessels arriving and departing by radar and radio. Immigration and customs are businesslike and pleasant, and you begin to learn about Bermuda as they fill out the paperwork and give you official permission to stay for three weeks.

By the time we leave we will have spent close to three weeks in Bermuda. They have been weeks of contrast - with weather ranging from rain and wind gusting up to thirty-five knots to sunny days with wind between five and ten knots - but far fewer of the latter. The island is lush and green - but water is a scarce commodity. Many of the islands’ houses are built over water tanks, which collect the water when it rains and stores it for their occupants’ use. Lack of rain means that they have to buy water, and they are not encouraged to buy too much. There are boats all over the place - moored in little bays and inlets, docked at marinas and clubs - and many Bermudans spend a lot of their time on, in and around the water, but boat parts are very expensive in the local marine stores and must add considerably to the cost of owning a boat. But then, many other things are more expensive here than we have been accustomed to - the Bermudan dollar may equal the U.S. dollar, but you spend them at twice the rate for basic food and transportation. In spite of that we plan to come back, to sample more of all the things there are to see and do here.

And we have managed to enjoy seeing and doing a variety of things. We went to a cricket match at the St. George’s Cricket Club, and enjoyed not just the match but the hospitality of the club members. For those of you who understand cricket: the match was 48 overs a side, and after a slow start the batsmen went after runs aggressively, hitting singles and fours and a few sixes. The home side won, but not until the last over of the 48, and then by three - because the batsman hit a four. It was a real family event, and both sides were fielding their young teams which meant that we saw a very good thirteen year old bowler and a couple more who were probably not much older. One of the younger players scored 108 before he was out - he would have been happier if he had not been clean bowled. It looks as if cricket is alive and well in Bermuda.

We happened to read about the Fitted Dinghy races, which are held every summer. Different clubs campaign boats in the event, and it is sailboat racing not quite like you’ve seen it before. For one thing, the boats do not have to end the race with the same number of crew they start with, and once you’ve seen the boats and talked to those involved you understand why. This is a one-design class - and what a design. Picture a small boat with low sides, a plumb bow (almost straight up) and a long bowsprit designed to carry lots of sail. Then think about the fact that because its sides are so low it has to be sailed level, or as near level as possible. This explains why there are five crew plus the skipper on this small boat - and why they have to be agile to get their weight wherever it is needed very quickly. All that, and bail like crazy whenever the boat encounters a wave or wake from a passing boat. Every now and then things get a bit hairy - as they are trying to fly the spinnaker, the boat starts rocking in a gust - then the mast hits the water, the hull fills with water, and over she goes. The crew stays with the boat and waits until their powerboat comes alongside and pulls the boat up. Then they bail like mad, and climb back on board for the next race. In the races we watched two boats sank in different races - including one from the Sandys Boat Club, where we were watching the races, just after it had taken the lead. And as far as ending with fewer crew than they start with - we did not see that, since there were good winds on the day we were watching. But we were told that on light wind days, especially if the racing is close, the crew will dive off the back of the boat one by one, pushing it with their feet as they go. If they do it right, there will be small enough distance to the finish line after the last crew member has dived off that the dinghy will make it across the line before it sinks...

Bermuda is a country full of forts, built by the British to defend their possession of it. Fort St. Catherine near St. George has been restored and has dioramas illustrating parts of Bermuda’s history, a self-guided tour through parts of the fort and videos. We walked there past beaches and houses and a very hilly golf course; the beaches are pinkish, but the tourists on them were mostly even pinker. Other days we went into Hamilton, and visited the Bermuda National Gallery and the Crisson and Hind Fine Art Gallery - the first had a good juried exhibition of local artists as well as some historical pieces; the second specialises in beautiful carvings by the Shona Master Fine Artists of Zimbabwe, done in very hard stones using hand tools. There we were lucky enough to spend some time with Dusty Hind, who is passionate about the works he sells and the artists who create them. Unfortunately (or fortunately, there being no space for carvings) we had to spend our money at the marine stores, also in Hamilton, instead. Talk about sticker shock - prices are twice to three or four times what they are in the United States.

Our bus trips took us on narrow, hilly, winding roads past colourful houses and rocky shores cut into by small coves and bays, some with beaches. The cars here are small, and there are scooters everywhere ridden by Bermudans of different ages, sizes and shapes. You can easily tell the Bermudan from the tourist on a scooter - the Bermudans look very comfortable. The tourists, on the other hand, tend to look a bit tense, especially as they are overtaken by a pink bus on a narrow road. There are a few bicycle riders on these roads with no shoulders, relying on the civility and kindness of Bermudan drivers in tight situations. There are places where there are no sidewalks either - it looks as if the original road was just too narrow to allow them to be built now.

There are many roads we have not travelled, many interesting places we have not been yet. So we plan to be back, passing through again and pausing long enough to visit and enjoy Bermudan hospitality a little more.

George Town and Other Pictures

2006-06-05T11:17:00.000-07:00

Some of you who cruise around Lake Ontario may have seen John and his Alberg 30, Joy B, much modified for comfortable cruising. Here she is racing in the In The Harbour Race at the George Town Cruisers' Regatta, where she placed a very respectable fifth.

Winner of the B Class and first overall was Lollygag, a Canadian boat cruised by Matt and Madeline from Cathedral Bluffs Yacht Club, Toronto. They did not live up to their name and were across the line ahead of the boats in their class and in front of some of the A Class boats as well.

Cruisers Regatta Week also features dinghy races, with dinghies of all sizes sporting many different kinds and sizes of sails. In the end, waterline and sail size had a lot to do with who won...

The dinghy dock in Lake Victoria in George Town was almost always full when we went there. This was early evening on the night of the Regatta Variety Show - when we came back after, there were two or three rows of dinghies behind each of these.

The sun is setting over the anchorage in George Town's Kidd Cove after another windy day, as we prepare for another rolly night...

On the other side of the islands which shelter the George Town's Elizabeth Harbour lies the Exuma Sound. When the wind blows in from the east you can walk along the beach and watch the waves coming in.

This little store was where we found the most reliable internet connection, at very reasonable rates. The young man who runs the computer side of the business plans to expand and improve as money allows; the grocery store will soon be moving next door and this building will be devoted to computers and internet access. He was pleasant and hard-working - we wish him the best of luck.

On top of Monument Hill stands this beacon, showing the way to Elizabeth Harbour and George Town. We enjoyed anchoring off here, and using the trails across the island to visit the shore on the Exuma Sound side.

While in Black Point, Exumas for the second time we needed to replace the zinc on our prop. So we followed the suggestion of a friend (John on Joy B) and grounded Into The Blue on sand at half tide as the tide was going out. Then we waited for the tide to go down enough for Richard to stand and work, rather than swim. And while we were there we cleaned up the waterline and did a few other things as well...

Looking out across the sands to the harbour at Black Point Settlement on Great Guana Cay, with the tide coming in to cover the shallows. Many cruisers stop here - there is a good grocery store, a laundromat, a small marine supply store, and good local restaurants. Lorraine's Cafe is a hub of activity, providing information, internet access, a book swap, local bread and lunch and supper for the hungry.

Miami, then to Bermuda

2006-06-05T10:03:00.000-07:00

Back to Miami

The first week of April saw us on our way back to Miami, with a brief stop in Warderick Wells to enjoy a swim and snorkel off the beaches and a hike across the island from the “bank” side to the “sea” side. Then we set sail across one bank, across the deep waters of Tongue of the Ocean that divide them and across the bank on its west side to North Cat Cay. Winds were light and sometimes blowing from the direction we were trying to go in, which made the journey a little longer than we had anticipated - such is sailing. After we crossed Tongue of the Ocean the wind shifted - it decided to blow from the direction we were going in. That had us tacking back and forth, and we decided stopping for the two nights we were on the bank and continuing on during the day was safer than sailing on in the darkness. Our second stop was just off North Cat Cay on the western edge of the Bahamas, where we arrived late and spent a bumpy night. That meant being up early was no challenge, and as soon as it was daylight we went through the narrow cut there and headed for the Gulf Stream and Miami. By that evening we were in U.S. waters, entering Biscayne Bay through the cut off Cape Florida in time to anchor for the night in the Bay. Next morning we called in, welcomed personnel from Homeland Security on board for a brief visit, and replaced our Q flag with the Stars and Stripes. By that evening we had had our passports officially stamped, and we were on our way to visit family. Then it was time to settle in for some more serious work to get ready for our next voyage.

Working on Into The Blue - Some More.

Most of April and half of May saw us hard at work. Our largest project was putting together a Jordan Series Drogue, something we decided we would rather have to help us in very heavy weather instead of wishing we had it should we ever need it. We saved some time by ordering a Sailrite kit with the one hundred cones we needed already cut. Then it was just a matter of cutting and sewing three hundred pieces of tape on to the one hundred cones and sewing the cones together; attaching those pieces of tape to umpteen feet of rope (each piece of tape knotted top and bottom through the rope); making the necessary splices; and attaching stainless steel brackets to the stern to fasten the drogue to. Other jobs were smaller - working on improving radio transmission, creating covers for the bins in the main cabin, raising the port berth in the main cabin to create chart storage underneath it, making sure that we can fasten down the floorboards and ice box lids should we need to, making baggywrinkles for our aft shrouds to prevent the mainsail from chafing when we are going downwind (bright yellow for now until the sun mellows them, they are nice and cheerful), and generally doing whatever we could think of to increase comfort and safety while under way. At the same time we were reprovisioning and stowing, bit by bit, and the boat was sinking lower and lower on her water line.

We spent days at a time in Hurricane Harbor, surrounded by large houses and protected not just from the weather but from much of the traffic on Biscayne Bay. Any weekends we were there we were joined by a few other boats, and saw many others tour through, but generally there was little activity during the week. When we wanted to spend time with family, we left the boat on a mooring in Crandon Park Marina and locked our dinghy into the dinghy stand. When we just needed to go to the grocery store then we spent the day in No Name Harbor, and biked in from there - Richard also made a couple of long bicycle trips into Miami from there, to get work done or pick up marine supplies.

As the middle of May drew near, we took stock of what we had done and decided it was time to go. Boat work never actually finishes - you just get used to doing it wherever you happen to be. But you do try to do the larger jobs where it is most economical, and hope that nothing too big sneaks up on you anywhere else. So - supplies bought and stowed and plans made, we lingered just long enough to celebrate Mother’s Day with family, including one daughter. Then we waited through thunderstorms and northerly winds, until the day the weather changed and the winds blew out of the south and the Gulf Stream showed its friendly face...

Bermuda Bound.

We set off on a friday evening, leaving Cape Florida behind us as the sun was going down in the sky. The winds were light and stayed light for the next four days, but at least we had the Gulf Stream to help us northward past the Bahamas. Then the winds grew brisker and we adapted to living life more or less at an angle. We tuned in to Herb on South Bound II to help us find friendly winds and currents and avoid any heavier weather. The days passed quickly, what with log keeping, standing watches, preparing meals, looking out for ships and figuring out where they were headed. We created our own routine, which suited our own sleeping habits...

When you look out over the blue of the ocean it is easy to feel that there is no-one else around. Then a freighter or cruise ship comes into view, or you hear on the net that there is another boat travelling close to you, going in the same direction. In our case there was Lapwing, a Valiant 40 - we talked to them once or twice a day on our SSB radio, comparing conditions and discussing our next waypoints. They arrived in Bermuda a day ahead of us, having decided to motor while we kept sailing, and were waiting to greet us when we got here.

Other less pleasant things remind you of the presence of man. We passed an array of things floating in the sea - from the drawers of a bureau to balloons to a yellow jerry can to plastic bottles and bits of foam to parts of crates and other wooden debris. We heard one boat radio in to the net that they had passed a semi-sunken powerboat, bow bobbing along above the waves.

Other creatures that travel and live on the sea are less intrusive. You have to take the time to look for the Petrels that skim low over the water, searching for food. The Portuguese Man-of War jellyfish sail quietly past. The dolphins catch your attention with the sound of their breathing, sometimes off in the distance, sometimes right by the boat. Most of the time they are in groups, but sometimes there is just one swimming along by itself. Two days in a row a Tropicbird came to look us over and try to land on our mast. The rope for the topping list, snapping around, and the array of things on top of our mast defeated him. He sounded indignant as he flew away.

A week and a half later we were approaching Bermuda. Since it is a set of islands surrounded by reefs, the approach to Bermuda demands respect and attention to charts and navigation. And once you are thirty miles or so off the coast every boat is expected to call in to Bermuda Radio on 16, and give details of their position, the size and type of vessel, the number of persons and safety equipment aboard and their estimated time of arrival off the cut which leads in to the harbour in St. George. Should you fail to do so, Bermuda Radio will hail you - and they will follow up should you not arrive at the time given. Once you are close to the cut, they will let you know whether you can enter or must wait for cruise ship traffic; once inside they guide you to the dock where you tie up to clear customs - or ask you to anchor off and wait. All very different from the Bahamas - and these are not the only differences we have been finding. But that is for next time...

Pictures from the Exumas

2006-03-26T11:35:00.000-08:00

This is a quiet day in the anchorage at Allens Cay in the Exumas. Allens Cay is inhabited mainly by iguanas, who sun themselves on the beaches and nibble on the seaweed washed up. The water is beautiful and clear - you can see the sandbar in the middle underneath it. The building in the background is a ruin; no person lives on the cay itself. The building is visible because almost all the trees are small - there is not much fresh water or soil here.

Warderick Wells, a part of the Exuma Cays Land and Sea Park, is fascinating. Once forested, it was stripped of its trees by the 1800s. Under the care of the Bahamas National Trust the island is being allowed to regenerate itself. Among its inhabitants, this little warbler, which flits past close to people and sits on the hands of those wishing to feed it without any fear.

This inhabitant of Warderick Wells is usually seen in motion, racing across the paths. This one, however, was sunning himself and did not care to move.

Yet another inhabitant of Warderick Wells, the Curly-Tailed Lizard likes to sun himself on the rocks which make up much of the terrain here.

Many parts of the trails we walked over looked like this, made up of very porous rock formed from the sand. They sometimes shift as you walk on them, and make music-like noises as they hit each other.

We did find a secluded beach, with beautiful white sand and no current, a great place to dip into the water. It is tucked away, we're not going to say where...

Another inhabitant of Warderick Wells we met on our walks, this Mockingbird was so sure that he was well camouflaged in the trees that he did not move as we took his picture.

Former human inhabitants of the island also left their traces. This is part of the ruins of the Davis Plantation, a Loyalist Settlement built in the late 1700s. A lot of work must have gone into building these walls, now in ruins, and looking at them makes you wonder what their lives were like.

These are the swimming pigs of Big Majors Spot, an island close to Staniel Cay. We were told they will swim to your boat if you have food, but we did not put this to the test. They will certainly investigate any dinghy which arrives, with much snuffling and squealing, but they do not stay if there is no food to keep them interested.

Another one of those friendly, engaging places, Staniel Cay welcomes visitors whether they come to stay on their boats or in the cottages for rent, like these at Staniel Cay Yacht Club. The yacht club is a hub of activity for visitors, providing all kinds of things from good food to internet access to information about the surrounding area, besides the normal docking, fuel, water etc.

Travels in the Exumas

2006-03-26T11:30:00.000-08:00

Every area in the Bahamas has its own ambience. The parts of Andros we visited were different from Great Harbour Cay, and the islands of the Exumas are different from them and from each other. From Fresh Creek on Andros we crossed Tongue of the Ocean and the Great Bahama Bank to Highborne Cay, stopping overnight on the Bank. For part of one afternoon we anchored in the crystal clear waters off Highborne Cay, until increasingly high waves and winds made us decide to head for the all-weather anchorage at nearby Allen's Cay. And there we stayed for the next five days, learning to cope with the effects of strong currents and winds (but sheltered from the high waves all around the cays we were anchored between). We learned that when both current and winds are strong and the oppose each other, the boat will dance up on her anchor and can sail it out if there is only one down. We are now much more experienced at doing the Bahamian moor, one anchor in the direction of each tidal flow and chains linked below the level of the keel.

Not that we spent all our time sitting anxiously on the boat. When the weather was relatively good we hopped into the dinghy and explored and visited. The cays around the anchorage were home to iguanas, which live protected lives there. They are large, ugly and fascinating. We watched them bask on the beaches with their heads toward the sun, nibble on seaweed and make the sand fly in front of their burrows. Almost as fascinating was watching the people who came to visit them, some brought in by large powerboats proclaiming themselves to be part of a Bahamian Adventure Tour. Most of them approached the iguanas with caution and did not linger long; some tried to feed them. The iguanas moved when disturbed but other than that largely ignored their visitors.

From Allen's Cay we travelled by dinghy to Highborne Cay a couple of times. This was our first experience with an increasingly common phenomenon in the Bahamas - the privately owned cay with a resort or marina or both on it. The marina and the beaches were the only places we could land, and walking around the island was not allowed except for guests at the marina or guest house. The marina itself was very friendly, offering a place to dispose of garbage (for a fee), access the internet (ditto), use the phone, buy groceries and fuel, and exchange books (free!). The beaches around it were beautiful, and in calm weather we saw several boats anchored off them. But the improving weather saw us moving on instead of joining them.

When we left Allen's Cay we enjoyed a good sail in brisk winds to Warderick Wells in the Exuma Cays Land and Sea Park. There we spent our first day anchored off the beach on the west side, enjoying the fact that there was no current and no need to worry about the boat riding up on her anchor. The next day we moved to one of the moorings off the park headquarters, and with brochure and map in hand began to explore the island.

The Park has been established as part of the effort to permanently preserve areas of ecological importance. The island once had forests with trees which were harvested, and for a short while had a settlement on it. Deforestation lead to erosion and changes in plant and animal life, and the settlement did not last long. Now the island is being allowed to regenerate, with the minimum of interference from humans, and visitors are asked to leave nothing and take nothing except pictures. We explored the trails, and swam off the beaches, and planned to return with snorkelling gear to look at the nearby reefs.

From Warderick Wells we enjoyed another good sail in brisk winds to an anchorage close to Staniel Cay. In the end we only lunched in the first spot we anchored in - the guides said it was an all-weather anchorage, but it was also rolly and unpleasant. The spot we moved to after lunch, off the beach west of Big Majors Spot, was much nicer. There was no current and the waters were calm. We took advantage of several days of good weather to stay there, visiting the swimming pigs, swimming off one of the beaches and dinghying to nearby Staniel Cay Yacht Club to visit the town and enjoy good food and free wi-fi access to the internet. We also saw our first Nurse Sharks and a large Ray - they also enjoy good food courtesy of the Yacht Club whenever fish are cleaned there.

We enjoyed Staniel Cay, where the yacht club brings together cruisers, cottage guests and Bahamians, and where stepping out of the yacht club gates takes you straight into the community. On the roads the most common vehicle is the golf cart, small, manoeuvrable and not too fast. They handle the narrow roads in town with ease, and you see them parked around houses, stores, church and the Yacht Club. In the Yacht Club there are always people coming and going, and the bar and restaurant are often full of visitors, mostly cruisers or cottage guests.

From there it was a short trip to a very different stop - the anchorage in the harbour off Black Point Settlement on Great Guana Cay. The only disadvantage to this anchorage is that it does not provide shelter from westerly winds; if not for that it would be easy to stay here longer than we did and enjoy the friendliness and cleanliness of the town. Life here moves at a slower, quieter pace, and there is a cluster of services very important to cruisers - laundromat, marine store, book swap, large clean grocery store, local restaurants, garbage disposal, even well water for those interested. We would have stayed longer, but there was a front approaching with strong winds and we needed a more protected place to be in when it passed.

So from Black Point we made another short hop to Little Farmers Cay. Our first night was pleasantly spent on the west side of the island, but the next mornng we moved to the more sheltered anchorage on the east side. There we dealt once again with the mix of strong currents and high winds, and practiced our Bahamian Moor techniques. Richard went ashore a couple of times on calmer days, for fish, bread and cheese, and spent time talking to some of the local fishermen. All went well, although a boat close to us dragged during the windiest night and we spent the balance of the night awake and watching ourselves and them. And then the wind died down, and it was hard to tell what all the fuss was all about. And it was time to head for George Town.

Pictures from Morgans Bluff and Fresh Creek, Andros

2006-03-08T08:47:00.000-08:00

At Morgan's Bluff on Andros the mail boat comes on Wednesday evenings, and unloads and loads up on Thursdays. It brings all kinds of things, including a car bought for parts, various goods and the mail. It leaves loaded with a similar variety of things, including produce bound for Nassau.

There is a creek that runs beside the road into Nicholls Town. We saw ducks on it, and a variety of plants grew around it; on the other side of the road it looked marshy and flat.

Twice a week, the Sea Link connects Morgan's Bluff with Nassau, carrying passengers, vehicles and some cargo. She backs into the small harbour to unload, then heads back out a couple of hours later.

The small container ships that use the Morgan's Bluff Harbour come in bow first, and spin around on their own length inside the harbour before they leave. This is the somewhat intimidating view we had of them as they turned around.

Having turned around, they pick up speed through the narrow channel as they head out toward their next destination.

Close to the Marina in Fresh Creek this path winds from one small beach to a larger one.

The marina in Fresh Creek is named for this lighthouse which stands guard at the entrance to the creek.

In front of the lighthouse are these cannons, standing guard over the narrow entrance to the creek, probably a relic of the times when the Bahamas were much fought over.

This is part of the shore off Fresh Creek, where rocks and reefs are as much a part of the shoreline as the beautiful white sand of the beaches.

Houses in the Bahamas tend to be solidly constructed and colorful. Bright blue and yellow are popular, and the schools usually seem to be yellow with green doors. This pink house looks out to the reefs from beside Fresh Creek, Andros.

The Androsia store is beside the factory where they create beautiful batiked fabrics in rich colours. The factory is small and the processes are human-driven; the only machinery we saw were the sewing machines on which clothes created from the fabrics dyed here are stitched. Visitors are welcome to see the factory and watch how the batik is created, and purchase clothing or fabric from the store.