The 4 Rules for Surviving Long Passages

We lined up for the mooring ball again. I reached as far as I could with the boat hook; not far enough. I was yelling into the headset BOW TO PORT, BOW TO PORT as we drifted past it, out of reach, a third time. Lance was frustrated, yelling back THE BOAT STILL WON'T RESPOND. We were drifting down onto the neighboring boat in the crowded mooring field. Her crew was alert on deck, hands on hips (this pose is known among cruisers as Bitch Wings, and in this case we deserved it). Our shouting had raised the attention of the other neighboring vessels, their crew were also standing on their decks, eyes wide, enjoying the drama but also hoping not to become part of it. There was a smattering of Bitch Wings in the crowd. Surely we looked like newbies. Or, even worse, credit card captains. A helpful neighbor took pity on us and dinghied out to wait at the ball to help us loop through it.

Night Passage to the Dominican Republic

Brain cells started to sluggishly click into place. There was just not enough wind for Minerva to be fighting us like this. Something basic had to be wrong. That's when we noticed the mizzen sail was still up. Doh! No wonder the boat wouldn't turn - we had a sail on her tail acting like a big wind rudder. A quick release of the mizzen sheet and the sail relaxed, Lance regained close-quarter control and we slowly approached the ball, I handed the mooring line to our new friend on his dinghy. Minerva was secured.

As always, we did the post-mortem over a cold beverage when emotions had calmed and flop sweat had dried. How did we get here? How did we become the day's entertainment?

We broke rules #1, 2 and 3. That's how.

RULES FOR A SUCCESSFUL PASSAGE

1. Keep it Simple. You will arrive tired. Do everything you can in advance. 
1. Study the chart
2. Know the arrival rules 
• Can you rest when you arrive or does Bureaucracy insist that check in  happen immediately
• Have your paperwork in order, ready to grab and go
• Know who to call or where to go (and in our case, where can the dog pee like right now right now right now)
3. Have a backup plan in place in case your planned arrival location doesn't work out
4. Assume everything you need on passage will be difficult to dig out in the dark or when tired, pull it out so it's handy or at least think through how to put hands on it in the dark
2. Sleep when you are not on watch. No reading, listening to music, watching videos, texting, no working on the laptop unless these things actively contribute to making you sleepy. Not tired? Doesn't matter. Lay down and try to sleep anyways whenever you are not actively on watch. Tricks like imagining your body going numb one portion at a time, or acknowledging and actively releasing intrusive thoughts without giving them real attention are helpful.
3. Be Kind. The rest of the crew will also be tired, and brains will not be functioning at 100%. Be gracious. Check one another's work, two heads are better than one.
4. Prepare One-Handed Meals in Advance. A hangry crew doesn't behave well. This one has saved our bacon time and time again when conditions went sideways and hangry started rearing its ugly head and heading towards total assault on rule #3. Most memorable was the passage from Curacao to St. Croix when the autopilot went out forcing us to hand-steer for the last 30 hours, that one-handed meal prep was a lifesaver.

This particular trip was a dream ride along the North Coast of the Dominican Republic. The first day we encountered the typical confused seas of the Mona Passage, and the wind and swell were both much more than predicted but still manageable. By the time we reached the Dominican Republic side of the Mona, the swells started to soften and lengthen into a very comfortable lazy stern swell, sometimes with agreeable current. We traded the jib for a spinnaker and sailed that way all of day #2. Sometime in the night on the home stretch the wind completely died and the spinnaker was put away, the engine deployed and the mizzen tightened down. We came into Luperon that way, after a little over 50 hours at sea. Lance hadn't slept well. We were fixated on the fish pots reported to lurk around the bay entrance the last hour or so and neither of us remembered to take the mizzen sail down (rule #1, should have done it in advance when the sun first came out, and before we reached the fish pots. We were busy drinking coffee instead and completely forgot our trusty mizzen sail on flopper-stopper duty out back).

So we were the afternoon's entertainment. So what. There wasn't any damage, and everyone's been there. Luperon is a tight cruiser community, word has surely gotten around by now about the dorks on Minerva. We'll go to the Thursday mixer and take our lumps.

Spinnaker Sailing is the Best

That Sinking Feeling

The morning sun was just beginning to make a showing across the dark night sky, dusting the mooring field of Wallilabou Bay in purples and pinks. Headset on, engine warm, we whispered through pulling up the anchor in the pre-dawn light. The air was still.

Minerva anchored and tied stern-to-a-tree next to the mooring field in Wallilabou Bay, St. Vincent 

The boat boy that had agreed to come out at this ridiculous hour was quietly floating alongside Minerva on his busted up paddle board, his two small dogs sitting on the board with him, looking up curiously at Chloe. He had freed us from the shore and I had just stowed the really long stern line.

The air was still and eventually all of the anchor chain made it back onto the boat, the echoes of the chain through the gypsy the only noise in the bay. I secured the anchor. Lance put the boat in forward gear and then... KERTHACK WHAM THUD THUD THUD. Minerva shuddered. The birds took flight.

Lance slipped Minerva out of gear and popped open the engine compartment and reported over the headset "We're taking on water. Lots of it".

Sure enough. The shaft had somehow shifted away from its rightful place and water was spewing in.

Like a caped superhero, Lance leapt onto the warm engine and started to wrestle the shaft into its rightful place. There are normally 4 bolts holding it into place, now there was only one but he found the missing 3 in the bilge. I slipped past him and opened the tool compartments to produce the tools that we needed as he shouted his list. I was handing him the last socket wrench and a big rubber mallet when the wind popped up. It was sudden and strong, and blowing us down into the mooring field where the other boats slumbered. Of course, it would have been helpful if it had been blowing us out to sea, but what fun would that be?

In Wallilabou Bay, it's deep all the way up to shore. We had dropped our hook originally in 70 feet of water and then backed in, had a boat boy tie our stern line to a tree on shore that was about 50 ft away. Now we were at least 200 feet from shore and the water under the boat was at least 90 ft deep. I dropped the hook, pulled out all the dock lines and deployed the fenders on the downwind side. The boat boy was still hanging around on his paddle board, I handed him the longest line and while he paddled to shore with it I extended our stern line by tying one knot after another as fast as I could; 6 lines later we were tied to a new tree on shore and no longer a threat to the other boats.

Re-stowing the line locker post-disaster

By then Lance had 3 of the 4 bolts back on. The 4th just wouldn't go. We caught our breath while timing the slow leak, then tentatively fired up the engine and put her in gear. There was a small shimmy, and the pace of the small leak held steady. We put her in reverse. Smoother, no leak. We had an appointment to keep with the government vet for Chloe's clearance (hence the reason for starting the venture at such a ridiculous hour), the wind was good to sail us there and the leak had slowed to a trickle so we re-released the stern line, paid the boat boy a bonus, and made our way to St Lucia. We set an hourly alarm to count pumps with the manual bilge pump, and after 6 hours of checking agreed it was not leaking worse than before.

It was hours after we were underway before we really noticed the burns Lance had received from his engine hug. Open wounds. Not too serious and easily treatable but best to avoid contact with tropical seawater until healed. So no diving in St Lucia for us.

Pigeon Island near Deshais, Guadalupe is home to Jacques Cousteau's national park

Martinique, Guadalupe, and St. Martin followed. Eventually Lance was able to get the 4th bolt on but it fought him all the way and didn't feel like it was happy there. We monitored the situation regularly and while the leaking remained minimal and steady the new prop shimmy was unsetting. We decided to get professional help before heading across the open Caribbean sea or into the lonely Bahamas.  A damaged prop or propshaft could mean a haulout and a potentially lengthy or expensive repair and we started strategizing our options this close to hurricane season.

Our good friend Ton was in St Maarten and dropped by, and much to our relief pointed out that the part that was damaged is meant to be sacrificial, its job is to protect the engine from prop or shaft shenanigans, and the bolts were simply loose. So it did its job but gave its life. In a rare stroke of luck the replacement part was readily available at the local chandlery. The shaft was not damaged. One beer and an hour later, Minerva was back to 100%.

The sacrificial part. It's clearly visible why the bolts didn't want to happily go back in place.

We are once again free to roam. And it's time to high-tail it out of the hurricane zone. We are still undecided in which direction we will go, but are definitely feeling the need to get moving to somewhere safe for the season.

Trinidad, land of surprises

We came to Trinidad with no expectations. The insurance company wanted us South for hurricane season and from a latitude standpoint, Trinidad appeased them.

Moko Jumbies at the Independence Day Parade

Other than the antiquated bureaucracy other cruisers warned us about, we came with no preconceived notions and welcomed at face value what the locals wanted to share with us. What we found is this: the people of Trinidad are genuine. They are making money elsewhere so they don't really rely on tourism, there is none of that "please-get-out-of-my-pocket" feeling that is so tiresome elsewhere. Aside from the usual grumbling about politics and crime, they are one and all proud to be Trinidadian and happily introduce us to their food, inventions, dancing and music.

Trinidad was once inhabited by Carib and Arawak natives referred to as the First People. Over the years Dutch, Africans, East Indians and eventually British mingled into the population, and the result is a mixing pot of amazing food, costumes, and a style of music that is completely unique. Many different religions exist peacefully together, some even share the buildings they worship in and everyone embraces the assorted religious holidays as their own; any excuse for a party is a good one in Trinidad, and rarely a month goes by without some sort of national holiday being observed.

Saheena, my favorite breakfast treat

Trinidad grows a lot of food, most of the standard dishes are curry or vegetable-based. My favorite dish is a taco of sorts called saheena - the shell is made of pan fried caloo (similar to spinach) and filled with chick peas, a sweet hot chutney and as much spice as you want. Be careful what you ask for because they do love their spices and if you ask for "as hot as you can make it" they will dish it up with some mischievous side-eye and giggle while you burn. This and many other delicious hand-held dishes are generally served at roadside stands and cost the equivalent of a buck or two in US dollars. A lot of food is obtained this way, by veering off the road, peeling off a handful of TT (Trini dollars), laughing with the vendors for a moment before speeding away to consume your tasty finds in the car or at home. Locals tend to keep plasticware and paper towels in the car, because you never know when you will come across your favorite roadside vendor, they seem to open up whenever they feel like it and some are more difficult to catch open than others.

The marina we chose, Power Boats, is exactly what we wanted in a home base for hurricane season. There are a handful of roadside stands out front, a grocery store, two restaurants onsite, a chandlery, welcoming staff, and a whole host of friendly and skilled workers or you can do the work yourself - they even have a workshop just for cruiser use. The safety and security is such that you can set down your project and come back later and not worry about anybody messing with it in the meantime. There is an internet room, which is a quiet air conditioned place to retreat to when the boat yard noise gets a bit too overwhelming.

Minerva's ladder being stripped down, we rebuilt the passerelle so it can once again be used as a gangplank when Med-moored

The cruiser community is not as tight as some other places yet, but all the right ingredients are there for a robust community. It is likely that the recent hurricane activity will result in more insurance companies insisting their vessels go to Trinidad instead of Grenada, so the cruiser community is likely to grow quickly, and soon. At the heart of this community is Jesse James, a tireless advocate for cruisers who also runs a taxi and tour service. When cruisers fled hurricane Beryl, Jesse was at the center of efforts to smooth the sudden influx of 150 or so boats through the daunting immigration process, and made sure the boats making a quick turnaround back to Carriacou and the other devastated islands were loaded with donated recovery supplies. Cruisers on both ends under his direction pulled it all together and volunteering was an experience I will always remember with pride.

A round of hurricane recovery supplies waiting to be loaded onto the SV Dawdle, heading to Union Island

We had one big project in mind for Minerva this hurricane season: topside paint. We found a pro we liked, handed over the keys, and retreated to a cozy air conditioned apartment from which we ventured out for smaller projects in the cruiser workshop when the heat was manageable. We jumped in on Jesse's coveted sight-seeing adventures whenever possible, including a foodie tour, bird-watching, rum tasting, witnessed some steel pan drums being built, and dancing with giant puppets to the sounds of the rolling steel pan bands of the independence day celebration.

A steel pan drum being built from scratch by a highly skilled Tuner

Trinidad invented the steel pan and the joyful sound can be heard most anywhere. The US had a significant presence here during World War II (when Trinidad still had ties to our British allies), which is how Calypso style music escaped into the rest of the world. Although there are factories that can turn out steel pan drums, the handmade ones are more prized. A skilled "tuner" can make a steel pan drum by hand with a handful of antique tools and an amazing ear for perfect pitch. True afficionados can pick out the maker by the instruments' sound and drummers are known to return to their favorite tuner year after year for tweaks to their drums.

Cruiser potluck

Every week there are cruiser get togethers ranging from a potluck BBQ to organized shopping trips. Once again, WhatsApp is a mandatory app we use to pool resources, trade boat parts, share information and organize events.

Cruisers on the foodie tour. We snacked our way across the country and back.

Come to find out, Trinidad is host to a wide array of birds and the ASA Wright Bird Sanctuary tour got us quite close and personal with toucans and hummingbirds. Had we opted to stay the night we could have met the island's famous bat population. The foodie tour was like no other we have been on - so much of the best local food is roadside so our 12-hour tour of the island involved a lot of swooping to pick up this and that, and sharing it in the van as we bounced down the road and Jesse regaled us with stories of the region, history, and culture.

Toucan at the ASA Wright Center

Trinidad has been a welcome surprise, and it turned out to be the perfect spot to hang out for hurricane season.

Juicy watermelons are grown on the East side of the island, and standing on the roadside with sticky faces and spitting seeds was definitely on the summer checklist 

Hurricane Season and the Curacao Cruising Community

"I am going to FINISH one of these projects TODAY" Lance shouted as he slid the boat hatch door closed and marched up the dock. I could only shake my head and commiserate. We've been banging our heads against the wall on this simple dinghy upgrade for way too long; what should have been an afternoon project was now dragging into the 5th day.

The rest of the "to do" sticky notes mock us from the wall, waving in the breeze.

The statue of Curacao's first Prime Minister was taken down for refurbishment. Locals watched nervously until he was safely on the ground.

It's been over a year since her Maine spa treatment and Minerva is demanding some attention. We knew we'd wash up here for hurricane season and postponed much of the work as we were expecting a big air conditioned workspace at the marina resort. As it turns out, there isn't any sort of clubhouse at the resort, air conditioned or otherwise. Fortunately locals have kindly offered to share their personal workspace with us for the larger projects such as the genoa sacrificial cover, which will involve spreading the huge sail out flat. The smaller projects are being tackled on the salon table next to Minerva's air conditioner.

Curacao is an island of the Dutch Antilles and the primary language is Papamiento (a blend of English, Dutch, Spanish and Afrikaan). We find that most folks also speak either English or Spanish. The projects involve lots of small parts which are requiring effort to source. We felt bad about constantly hitching rides with our cruising buddy and knew the more abstract items would require some significant legwork to track down; in the end we leased a car for the remainder of the season so we have some hope of getting it all done before November without monopolizing our neighbor's time and car.

Lance, Ken and Apollo teamed together to scrub bottoms of all three boats

Shopping for obscure parts (like an industrial sewing needle) is one of those things most people just don't do daily any more. If I were in the USA, I'd visit no more than 2 local stores before just ordering them directly from SailRite or Amazon and have them delivered right to my door. Shipments like this in Curacao are a lot more complicated, and either can't be done at all or require third party help from the USA at additional cost and delay. So we've been driving around to all the likely shops asking if they have what we need or will order it for us - it's like a throwback to shopping in the 80's - lots of driving, lots of talking to a lot of people (with a lot of hand signals or Google intervention when we encounter language barriers), and lots of incomplete directions to that "other store, I can't remember it's name".

Franko Maps reveal the hidden gems

Last weekend we took a day off and went exploring with A dock neighbors. All eight of us and Chloe piled into two cars and drove to the other end of the island to an obscure dive/snorkel spot discovered on a FrankoMap, then we finished up the day at an indoor/outdoor Thai restaurant. Ventures like this keep me from screaming out loud when we reach the next project roadblock. It's all about balance.

Cruiser dogs join the party at the hamburger joint

On Tuesday night we were invited to cruisers' night at the local hamburger joint. There was an excellent turnout and Chloe roamed freely through the crowd. Before long she fell in with the pack of boat kids running around the property; their friendship hastened and forever secured by shared French fries.

Upon leaving the USA we discovered that the rest of the world communicates on WhatsApp for texting, phone calls, and video calls. Businesses run on it also and if you make a phone call with your regular phone it isn't likely to be picked up by anyone except through WhatsApp. Here in Curacao we use it to chase parts with businesses and have embraced the group chat function of the app to keep in constant contact with the cruisers on the island.

The SuperMoon Rises over Minerva

Last weekend a dinghy float was organized under the SuperMoon which ended with a dozen boats tied together drifting along under the beautiful night skies and a gentle breeze. We pull together everything from scuba adventures to beach parties, lost and found, shared rides to stores, laundry and propane, requests for tools or help, and share windfalls. I found a hairdresser to give me a haircut on the stern of her boat last week. A cruising sailboat at anchor was struck by a drunken party vessel who then fled the scene, and within 24 hours it was all sorted out. Word got out of a disabled boat approaching the dock, so cruisers were waiting to help catch him as he limped in to the dock. 

We are a tight community.

Oriental NC, a Sailors' Town

The town of Oriental brags that it has three boats for every human being. So as expected the town is set up well for cruisers. The local grocery store is a Piggly Wiggly and it has a shuttle van: for now it delivers groceries to the dock, in better days it shuttles cruisers to and from the store.

The OiNC shuttle

The adorable restaurants along the waterfront, shuttered for now, have wooden patios that look quite dog-friendly. I can't wait for the day they are populated and I can taste the goodies listed in the window menus. Everybody we meet around town shares a friendly wave. I imagine they are smiling beneath their masks.

The wind here is fairly constant; we're not that far from KittyHawk after all. I can see why the Wright Brothers chose this region for plane development.

The whole town follows a central essential website daily. It's a tidy way of keeping a community together, something I have not seen anywhere else in the nation. Check it out for a glimpse into this small town life: towndock.net, it's got everything from the local gossip, to restaurant and business hours, to swap meet locations, to weather reports with a slant towards boaters' concerns. This morning a neighbor told us copperheads have come out of hibernation and are being seen around town, he read it on "the website". 

Here on the East Coast there are two tides to worry about. The normal moon tide that we are already familiar with, and also a wind tide, the latter of which being far more prevalent here. The wind blows water in and out of the rivers and since Minerva draws over 6'6" of boat draft when fully loaded, this greatly affects the windows for getting her into and out of the repair yard and some marinas. For now she is low on fuel and low on water so she can make it around town to her various appointments, she looks a bit cork-like riding a full foot or so above her usual waterline.

Minerva at rest in her Oriental Harbor Marina slip 

Buying a boat is a process, and we are now in the phase where repairs are being made to satisfy the insurance company, pursuant to surveyor recommendations. The things the insurance company is concerned with have to do with safety of vessel and crew, Lance has his own checklist above and beyond that. He loads the daily tools into the Mini almost every morning while I work at my desk and spends the day alongside the owner wrenching on this or that, both of them decked out in stylish N95 masks (we dug ours out of  the first aid kit). Later this week a different surveyor will come by to approve completion of the insurance company's checklist, next will be the sail test. Assuming all of that goes smoothly we will be trading keys and signed documents for our life savings. Hopefully soon.

New Friends in Times of Plague

We found covered storage for Loretta in nearby New Bern. Lance still wants to drive her home to California so my Dad can keep an eye on her but considering the state of the nation the trip might not be wise. We have completed quarantine here and there may not be services to support Loretta on her journey across the nation now, also he may not be able to make it back by public transport. Importantly, we'll lose sailing time while he makes the round trip, which becomes more precious as hurricane season approaches. So we'll wait and see on that for now. Oriental is a good spot to ride out the plague, and it would be safe and dry enough under cover for Loretta to wait out the summer while we sail up to Maine and back. Mr. Toad is not part of our long-term picture so we'll be looking for a new home for him soon, it makes more sense than storing him.

The RVers' world is beyond crazy right now. Some states have simply closed parks, cancelled incoming reservations and kicked everyone out who was already there. While this makes sense if you have a home to go to, or if you are just camping for fun when you should be sheltering at home, it doesn't make sense at all for full-timers. Forcing someone to move around who had been safely quarantined in place is the opposite of helpful, but that is exactly what has happened in many places. We barely made it into Oriental before the lockdown went into place by order of the NC governor, the park we left made it clear we couldn't come back once we had left, and we were one of the last allowed in before the town locked down on this end too. It made for a stressful transition, others haven't been as fortunate as us. Many full-timers we know have been bounced out with nowhere to go, roaming between WalMarts and private parks, always in quarantine since they are never allowed to stay anywhere for long. I'm grateful we made it into this private park just in time, it's within bicycling distance of most everything we need, which right now is an endless loop of boat,  chandlery, and groceries. The RV faces a huge lawn area, Lance thinks it is sod being prepared for sale. Chloe and Stewie frolic daily on it with the neighbor dogs and I enjoy the stunning green view outside my office window.

Chloe frolicking on the lawn beside the RV park. The light is magical here.

This is probably the last view I'll be enjoying from this window for a while. The next round of stunning views will all be from the water: Annapolis, New York, Maine. Maybe the fjords of Nova Scotia if we can get moving in time.

Internet Speed Comparison Oriental RV Park, Oriental, NC Sampled 3/31/20 at 11:41 am
	MB down	MB up
Calyx (Sprint)	0	0
Google Fi	21.5	12.3
Jetpack (Verizon)	8.66	14.2
Park wifi	none