Antigua

K & K - Nelson's Dockyard

 So, where were we? I believe we had just left Saba in the middle of June. Well, we had to be in Antigua by the 20^th of June, as our friends, Katie and Kristen were flying in to hang out on the boat for a week. It is about 100 miles to Antigua, so we decided to split it up into a few short days sails. Our first being about 20 miles to Statia. We left Saba in the late morning and had a nice sail to Statia. We read that Statia is quite swelly and there is only one authorized anchoring zone, so we decided to pick up a mooring ball rather than deal with anchoring, especially because it was just for one night.

According to our cruising guide, we were supposed to be on the lookout for yellow mooring balls, a few of which have a blue stripe around them. There were supposed to be about 12 moorings close to the beach, and three moorings that are designed for larger boats further out. Sounded easy enough, but as you know, nothing is as easy as it seems. We got to the mooring field around 5 pm, about 2 hours before sunset. We scanned around, and saw a bunch of floating plastic jugs which typically mark the locals moorings but didn’t really see what we would expect to from the description in the guide book. Out came the binoculars and a double check of our position on the GPS – we were in the right place and there were a FEW moorings so this must be the mooring field, and yes, there was a yellow mooring with a blue ring around it – it was pretty far out from the beach, but it must be one of large boat moorings. So, we motor over to it, grabbed the line with our gaff and noticed that it had “Marine Reserve Park” written on it. Well, the Statia marine reserve did put these mooring down, so we must be in the right place. But man, we are really far away from shore. Well, we tied up, cleaned the boat, hung out for a while, started cooking dinner and poured ourselves a rum punch as we are about to relax and watch the sun go down.

Shirley Heights - The Hamptons of Antigua

“Large black ketch on the mooring ball, this is the marine reserve, please come back” blares the VHF. They must be calling us – we are after all, the only large black ketch on a mooring ball.” We answer their call, assuming they want their $10. Instead, this is how the conversation went:

“Joana, you are anchored in a non-authorized anchoring zone.”

“Marine Park, we are on a mooring ball”

“Joana there is no mooring ball out there”

“Well, we are on a yellow mooring ball with a blue stripe that says Marine Reserve”

“Joana, that is only a marker designating the marine park outer boundary. You can not tie up to it.”

Kristen's new hat

Opps. My only non-spoken question – why do they always wait to tell you that as the sun is going down and not the 2 hours before when you can see all the other boats? I know that they saw us come in and tie up there. Ummm. I guess a good lesson learned – don’t believe everything you read in your cruising guide and if something seems hookey, it probably is!

Anyway, we made it through that night, sailed to Nevis, stayed on a proper mooring ball for a night and then sailed to Antigua, anchoring in Falmouth Harbor. The following day Katie and Kristen (from here on out, known as K & K) flew in and made their way to the boat. The next two days we hung out, K & K went diving, we walked around English Harbor, Nelson’s Dockyard, took the local bus to St Johns to find a bank and some groceries. (Important note about ATMs in Antigua – I would say 90% of them only take Visa backed ATM cards. This was a problem for me, as my ATM card is only accepted at ATMs that have the MasterCard logo. Luckily, I had a few EC (Eastern Caribbean dollars $1US = 2.7 EC) on me so I could take the bus 30 minutes to St Johns to a Scotia Bank that took my card).


I’m not sure where we got our next suggestion for some nightlife from – K & K must not have gotten much of a tan yet and their clothes too clean – because someone suggested that we go up to Shirley Heights – a great view from the top of English Harbor, an outdoor bar with a steel band, cheap food and Carib beer, he claimed. We took a local van up to the top of the hill / small mountain and asked any of the local riders if they wanted to go with us. All we got was blank stares. Should have been clue #1.

Fancy resort

There was a small gate outside the entrance, and we had to pay $20EC each to enter. Should have been clue #2.

We walk inside a big, airy, wooden bar and notice the chalkboard that said “Carib Beer - $15 EC”. Should have been clue #3.

Free appetizers

We peer out the arched doorway to the outdoor patio and there it is…a Hampton’s party transported to Antigua. A sea of pasty-white people, dressed in floral sun dresses, floppy hats, khaki pants and polo shirts. A very cool 30-piece steel band jammed out reggae tunes and a nice local gent was making hats out of coconut palm frons, which Kristen could not refuse getting. Aside from being incredibly overpriced and touristy, it was a fun thing to do – the music was great and the views of Falmouth and English Harbors unbeatable. We stayed for about an hour or so and then made our way to a more local bar where the beers were in our price range. The next day we put K & K out in the sun with the lowest SPF we could without them looking like a lobster.

Jolly Harbor

Relaxing at the bar at Jolly Harbor

We decided to sail around the island for a change of scenery.  Our first stop was Deep Bay, a nice secluded anchorage on the west side of the island.  We had water sports day (snorkeling, paddle boarding and our favorite activity, sitting in our floaties with a bottle of wine!).  That evening, we dressed in our best "resort wear" and dignied over to a very fancy all-inclusive resort.  We eased our way to the bar, ordered a few glasses of wine and helped ourselves to the complementary appetizer bar, which comprised of such goodies as fillet mignon on baguettes, fresh tuna and savory pork.  I think we helped ourselves once to often, as our last glass of wine was put in "to go" glasses!  

Swanky Wine Bar

The following day, we motored about a mile south to Jolly Harbor.  It is a fairly new marina / condominium complex with some shops and restaurants.  We anchored just outside the marina entrance.  The yacht club has a nice outdoor bar area to relax and do internet.  There is also a great coffee / ice cream shop where they gave us free banana splits!  YUM!!  

The night before K & K left, we took a taxi  to the Redcliffe Quay in the city of  St Johns and found a great wine bar that served only wines from South Africa.  I thought I was back in New York City as we feasted on cheese platters and  olives and drank fancy wines!  It was a great way to end a fantastic week with Katie and Kristen!

Saba

Like all good hidden kingdoms, Saba doesn’t come easily, and the cruising sailor who wishes to visit must be prepared to pay the price of possible frustration in the face of the elements …Many bare-boat charter companies make [Saba] off-limits for their guests” - Chris Doyle, Cruising Guide to the Leeward Islands

Turk holding onto Maria in rough weather

We had a pretty rough 26 hour crossing from St John to Saba…the wind was a brisk 20-25 knots, just off the nose but it was more the seas that were uncomfortable. We had 5-7 foot seas, which normally are fine when they are far apart and coming from the same direction. But we had confused seas that were close together (about 2-3 second period), with an 8 footer thrown in every now and then for good measure. At one point or another, each one of us would shout at the waves, “Just *%$@ STOP!!” as they pushed us around. Finally around daybreak we were rewarded with our first glimpse of Saba, a small volcanic island jutting out of the ocean, the top of it lost in the clouds, with nothing else around. Maria and I had to check our position to make sure we somehow didn’t get transported to Pitcairn Island, as they looked identical from afar. It was just after this sighting, still getting our butts kicked by Mother Nature, that Maria went down below for a much needed nap, I laid down in the cockpit and Scott took the wheel. Of course, even in crappy conditions, he has his fishing lines out. The usually great sound of the line getting taken by a fish sounds in the air. “Fish On”, he shouts…I groan. Then the words you really don’t want to hear when getting bounced around by seas and just want to get to the island that is so tantalizingly close, “It’s a blue marlin and she’s a big one…400 pounds at least!” The only thing I can think of is “s@#&, this means at least another two hours out here!” I call down to Maria, she wearily comes up and basically says that the only bloody way Scott is going to get the fish in is if it follows us to Saba, turns around, and goes back to bed. Defeated, Scott cuts the line to the blue marlin, I give a half smile, lay back down and count down the hours to landfall.

Approaching Saba for the first time

About seven hours after we initially spotted Saba, we finally made it to the mooring field on the west side of the island. Anchoring is very difficult in Saba because it is basically 100 feet deep up to about 100 yards off the shore, and then goes to about 50 feet right up to the shore. Therefore, they have
graciously put out 11 mooring balls that are free to use for up to seven nights. Ten of the 11 moorings are good for boats up to 50 tons and one is good for boats up to 150 tons. We started to moor on the 50 ton mooring, but as we were doing this, the Saba marine park ranger pulled up in his boat and suggest that we take the 150 ton mooring, because the wind was howling and was not supposed to let up for weeks. Once we got properly tied up, we allowed ourselves to relax and take in our surroundings. We were the only boat in the mooring field, the water, deep navy blue, was to one side of us and Saba’s red and brown cliffs that rose straight up to meet lush green countryside lay on the other. Words can not describe how beautiful this island is.

White marlin!

One of the reasons why we chose to go to Saba is because two of our friends who we know from Cape Marina in Florida live there. Picky, a gentle Rastafarian who was born on Saba, and his wife Kathy from California, were on the same dock as us in Cape Canaveral and would talk about Saba often. They live on Saba but had bought a sport fishing boat in Florida and fixed it up in Cape Canaveral before having it shipped back to the Caribbean so they can start a fishing business on Saba. Before we left Florida, we had promised that we would come to visit, and asked how we would find them. ‘Just go on the island and ask for Picky” is what they said. So, we dingied around to the north side of the island, which is the only place accessible to shore, and came upon the customs man. We were still in our dingy when he asked for our passports, stamped them right there, and told us to go the harbormaster office to fill out the rest of the paperwork. We told him we were friends of Picky and Kathy and asked if he knew how we could find him. A big smile broke out on his face and said that Picky was his cousin and that he would drive us up to his house after we were through with the harbor master. Love the small islands!

Kathy had been at the harbormaster’s office earlier in the day, so the harbor master knew we were coming and called Kathy when he saw us (not many cruisers visit Saba so it wasn’t hard to figure out who we were). So, as I was filling out the paperwork, Kathy drove up and once done, took us on a quick tour of the island. There is basically one road on Saba, and it is known as the road that could not be built. Engineers from Holland had come to look to see if a road could be built, said that it couldn’t because the island was too steep. The islander’s wouldn’t take no for an answer, and hand built it themselves. The stone road is very narrow (barely two cars fit on it side by side), hugs the cliff side with on a onefoot high stone guard rail, and winds around more than most roller coasters. I refused to sit by the window on the side that looks out over the ocean, because when you look out and down, you are looking at several hundred to thousands of feet straight down!

Island tour with Kathy and Shamar

Saba itself has two main towns, Bottom and Windward Side. Both towns are small and very picturesque. Saba is a Dutch island, which is seen in all of its quaint buildings and homes, almost all of which are painted white with green trim and shutters and red roofs. It looked as if the fairytale characters Hansel and Gretel could pop out of one of the houses and walk down the cobblestone streets at any moment. Most of the houses are perched on cliff sides, and look as if they could fall off the ledge at any time. Kathy took us to one of her friend’s house at the top of the mountain, right by a cloud forest, to see the view from her balcony. When looking out, you could see the ocean extending forever, and when looking down, the green forest. It was pretty amazing!
Picky was in St Thomas, so we hung out with Kathy for the next two days. She took us on an extended island tour, down to the swimming hole, and we hung out at her house and cooked dinner. They have a really neat house in Bottom, with two huge mango trees, a papaya tree, banana trees and cinnamon plants in their forest of a backyard! We sat for hours on their porch, listening to the music of the birds and the crickets in the forest as the sun went down and chatting to all the locals when they walked by the house.

Maria's spa night

On Saba, Maria became quite the love interest of two young men, Tyreke and Shamar. They are Picky’s nephews, aged 10 and 8, respectively! Boy did they love Maria. One night, they brought out Kathy’s hairbrushes and hair ties and gave her all kinds of crazy hairdos. Then out came a bottle of Kathy’s very expensive aromatherapy lotion and she got the full arm, leg and foot massage while we all looked on and laughed hysterically! Who needs a spa in Saba?

The following day, we went snorkeling in some of the clearest water I have been in. There were tons of reef fish and lots of curious and friendly sea turtles! They would come right up to you, almost let you touch them, and then swim a short distance away. It was too cool.

Picky chillin' out on his porch

Picky came back from St Thomas the following day and we got a chance to hang out with him while Kathy went to work. We had great times relaxing on the porch,
catching up and telling stories. The next day, we tried to repay their hospitality by helping to pull weeds in their soon-to-be garden and Scott rewired some of their electrical outlets that were acting up.
We were sad to leave Saba, but friends from Texas were flying into Antigua in a few days and we wanted to make sure we got there on time. So we heaved up anchor and sailed away from the enchanting island. I would highly recommend going to Saba to anyone. If you don’t want to sail into Saba, you can take a ferry from St Maarten. And if you do make it there, just ask for Picky and Kathy!

Held Hostage in St. Johns by the US Postal System

St Johns, USVI

We opted to forgo the constant rolly–polly anchorage in St Thomas and instead dropped the hook at Gallows Point in St Johns, just around the corner of Cruz Bay where the town is. There were three other local boats in the area, and like good anchorers we are, we adhered to our often loudly spoken rule of anchoring AT LEAST 5 boat lengths away from any other boat. (Unfortunately, many do not have the same rule, a classic example is of a French boat that anchored about 15 feet away from us in St Johns and I’m not exaggerating. Scotto practically whispered over to them and said, “Hey guys, I just want to let you know that you are invited to a raging party we are going to have on board with all the locals…there will be a lot of drinking involved, loud music and should last well into the night so it will be a blast.” I’ve never seen a boat haul anchor and get out of there so fast! Needless to say, we watched a movie and fell asleep at 9pm that night without another boat around.) The

Cath and Niko on "The Whale"

Now, during one of our last stops, I attempted to surf my Whale (my 11’4 stand-up paddle board or SUP), misjudged the height of a reef, and buggered my main fin. I searched all of St Thomas for a new fin but they haven’t caught up with the SUP craze yet and no fin was to be found. So, what does one do? Call mom back home and have one shipped to you, it is a US island after all, and they have the priority mail flat rate service. I went to town and asked around to find out the best place to get things shipped to, which happened to be a store called Connections, which specializes in mail, phone and internet services. I went in and got the low down on the mail service…outgoing mail only takes 2-3 days to get to the states, but if you want something shipped to you in St John and you want it by next season, you must have it shipped priority mail, and it will arrive not in the 2-3 days as advertised, but rather in about 6-7 days because for some reason, it has to go to Puerto Rico first, sit there for awhile, and then get shipped to St Thomas, sit there for awhile and then ferried over to St John when the postal service feels like it. Well, sitting in St Johns for 6 days didn’t sound like the end of the world, so I called up my mom, gave her the specs on my board and she called her friend at Longboard House in Indialantic. They had a fin that would fit my board and would get it out that day or the next day, priority mail. This was a Thursday, so we assumed we would get the fin the following Wednesday or Thursday. So naïve we were.

Island tour with Michael and Kathy

Joana attracts a lot of attention in port as she is such a unique boat, and we meet tons of people who swing by to check her out and get her story. Michael is one cruiser that we met this way. He dignied over one day and we invited him on board and had a great chat with him and he invited us over to his boat to meet his wife, Kathy, and have a drink. We complied with his offer that evening and had a nice time with them and learned all about the island as they have lived on their boat in St Johns for about 10 years. Michael does all kinds of odd jobs around the island and Kathy is a school teacher there. It was very entertaining listening to her stories about the education system and the kids. My favorite story is that in school, the teachers constantly have to remind the kids that in class, they have to speak “Tourist English” and not “Island English”! At end of the night, they offered to take us on an island tour that Sunday, as by now had bought a car to get around.

Ruins at Annaberg Sugar Mill

We hate to show us empty handed when people go out of their way to do nice things for us (which happens constantly in the islands – so much more so than in the states), so we decided we would grab a few conch that were below our boat and bring them a nice conch salad when we met them on Sunday. So on Saturday afternoon, I went diving for conch - you have to be very stealth and quick when catching these fast moving buggers. I managed to wrangle about 5 large conch and Maria cleaned them and whipped up a tasty salad. Sunday morning, we dingied over to Michael and Kathy’s boat and proudly handed them a large bag of conch salad and they very graciously accepted our gift, adding that conch is out of season. There is nothing quite like expressing your appreciation by giving illegal gifts! Se la vi! They still took us on the tour and we had a fantastic day touring the island and bought them brunch as an additional, legal, thank-you.

As we waited on the postal system, we spent the rest of our days exploring town, window shopping, and having an occasional cocktail at one of the many watering holes. It was at one of these establishments that Maria and I met Scotto’s new best friends. We had gone into town to get something done, I can’t recall what it was, but Scott stayed on the boat to finish up some work. It was hot in town so we decided to stop at a bar for a quick cold drink. At the other end of the bar, two guys around our age were standing at the bar, pounding cold beers, swearing and laughing loudly, wearing sport fishing shirts covered in fish guts and blood. Maria and I struck up a conversation with them, found out Chris runs a sport fishing / commercial fishing boat and Tyler helps him out. We went back to Joana, and told Scotto about his soon-to-be friends. Later that night, we all went back to town and Scott met Chris and Tyler, and as expected, the three became fast friends. At 6am the next morning, we hear a knock on the side of the hull and a loud “Good Morning Sunshines”…there were Chris and Tyler in their boat, wanting to take us out fishing. Maria and I stayed behind so Scott could have much needed “boy time”. Scotto once again proved that he is a great fisherman by catching a ton of tuna and blue runners. The three of them got back late morning and set up a quick fish shack on the side of the road out of Chris’s pickup truck and made a killing selling the fish.

Cath in front of the most photographed beach on St Johns

Finally Wednesday rolled around and I checked in with Connections to see if my fin was in…no luck. Thursday comes and goes, no fin. We are starting to get a little tired of St Johns and are anxious to get going to see our friends who live on Saba, a tiny island about 100 miles from St John, so we force ourselves to be hopeful that the fin will come on Friday. Again, no luck, and I think the ladies in Connections are starting to get tired of seeing my face. I politely asked if they got mail on Saturday and about what time… yes, they do get mail on Saturday but it could come at any time. Okay, well, we crossed our fingers that Saturday would be the day. Wrong again…which means the earliest it will get there is Monday. Our weather window is slowly closing…if we leave Tuesday morning at the latest we will still be okay for our overnight passage to Saba, but the conditions start to deteriorate on Wednesday…nothing dangerous, just not as comfortable. I was told that the mail should be in by 11am or noon on Monday, so Maria, Scott and I go into town to finish up last minute duties, expect to grab the fin and get underway. 11:15 am, I poke my head in, and by now they know me, and just shake their head and tell me the mail had not yet come in. When will it be here, I ask. We don’t know, they reply. 12:30 I walk in, they shake their heads again, no mail yet, and I walk out. 2:00 pm I send Scott in to see if the mail arrived yet (not thinking they would know he is part of this fin fiasco), and in an annoyed tone, they tell him to tell me the post office has the mail but hasn’t released it yet! We find a restaurant that faces Connections and have a beer and watch for the mailman to drop off the mail. By 4:00 pm there is still no sign of the mailman and the ladies at Connections tell us to try again the next day. We are now really tired of being on St John and getting grumpy. We check the mail on Tuesday and it still isn’t there! Now we are mad. Wednesday around noon we go in, the lady says you are in luck, your mail is here. And then she adds, “you know, it was actually here yesterday, but I was looking in the wrong place for it…sorry.” I attempted not to shoot daggers at her with my eyes…clutched my fin tightly and walked out. Taking a quote from our good friend Kathy from Saba, “It is paradise, not utopia!”

It was too late to start heading to Saba and a nasty storm was on the horizon, so we stayed one more night in St. Johns and took off for Saba the next morning in a brisk breeze and uncomfortable seas. It was a long passage, but so worth it when seeing Saba on the horizon for the first time.

We love Niko thiiiisssss much

Everyone wonders how hard is it to travel with pets on board. We are good people to ask, as we have two cats and a dog. Our cats, Clove and Turk are easy. They never leave the boat, so customs doesn't bother with them. Niko is a different story.
We got Niko when she was 2 months old from a shelter in New Jersey. She is one of the funniest dogs you will ever meet and everyone swears she is human. She loves all people, especially children, and she lets the cats rule the boat, and will even back away from her food when Turk wants some of it! We call her the love child of Petey from the Little Rascals and the RCA dog, as she is black and white and has a black patch around one of her eyes. Look at any of our photo albums and half of the pictures will be of the dog! She is a mixed breed,mostly likely boxer, pit and Boston terrier We did get a $20 DNA test done on her (we swabbed her cheek, mailed it in and got the results mailed back to us). According to that, she is 20% Rottweiler, 20% chow, 10% Jack Russel and less than 10% of Boston terrier, poodle, Italian greyhound and Yorkshire terrier! Maria wants to swab her cheek and see what they come back with! Anyway, we go with boxer mix.


Before leaving the States, I did some research on bring pets into the Caribbean islands. For the most part, all one needs is proof of the usual vaccinations and rabies shots and a health certificate stating that the animal is in good health.


The Bahamas wants an import permit that you can get before you leave and just show proof of vaccinations, rabies shots and $10. The Dominican Republic wanted to see proof of vaccinations and rabies shots and $10 . Puerto Rico didn't even ask to see any type of paperwork nor did it cost us anything to bring her in, and the same with the USVI.


HOWEVER....the BVIs and any other rabies free islands are a much different story! The process starts about a month before leaving.


First, I had to go to the vet to get her all the usual shots, plus a Lyme disease vaccination. Also, Niko was micro chipped at the shelter, but it was before they came out with the ISO standard chip, which has 15 digits, so I had to get a second microchip put in her.


Because some of the islands are rabies free, they are super paranoid about bringing any foreign animal in, rightly so. In order to allow foreign animals in, they require a Titter test, which shows how many rabies antibodies an animal has. Now, I think there are only 2or 3 labs in the WORLD that are authorized to do the Titter test, one of them being Kansas State University. So, I had to get Niko's blood drawn by her vet, who had to follow strict instructions otherwise they would reject the sample and Fed Ex the sample to Kansas State, along with a check for $80. About 3weeks later, they faxed a copy of the results back to the vet...Niko had a titer of 1.5, easily meeting the minimum requirement of 0.5. Perfect. Now that I had the proof of the vaccinations, rabies shot and the titer results, my vet filled out a health certificate, recording the date, type, manufacturer and batch number of all the vaccinations, and stated that Niko was healthily. I then had to send the certificate, along with the proof of vaccinations, rabies shots and the titer results, plus a check for $114 to the US Dept of Agriculture so they could stamp it - the USDA must authorize all the paperwork for the BVIs to accept it.


Now, here is where I messed up. I thought once I got to Jost van Dyke, I could just present all the paperwork to the customs people and they would let Niko in. WRONG. I had to send all of the paperwork to the BVI Dept of Agriculture. No worries, I had a phone number, a fax number and an email address. So, I went back to the boat, scanned all the paperwork and e-mailed it off. About 5 minutes later I got a message that said my email was rejected because they didn't recognize the account it was coming from. Ummm, okay, I'll call them. After about 10 attempts and talking to numerous different people, I finally got through to someone who knew something about trying to get pets in the country, and no, they don't use email, only fax. Okay, no worries, I'll go back to customs to have them fax their main office the paperwork. So, I dingy back in, clutching my paperwork, and politely ask them if they can do this for me. The one customs officer who is in the office looks at me as if I have three heads and tells me all their phone lines are down. I nicely ask where he thinks I may be able to find a fax on the island, and he suggests Foxy's bar down the beach. So off I truck, down to Foxy's, ask if I can use the fax machine, get permission to go upstairs to the main office, where two very nice ladies help fax the paperwork. Although they were very helpful, they were having problems with the fax machine, so only 8 of the 10 pages went through, and they weren't sure exactly which ones went through. They were very busy and I hated to ask to try again, so I called up the Dept of Agriculture to see if they had received what they needed. Evidently, the number was for the person's cell phone and she was not in the office at the moment, but she could check it in a few hours. I told her that was fine, and she could email me if she needed any additional info or email me the permit. Oh no, she said, we don't use email, I have to fax it to you. Oh boy...well I got the fax number for Foxy's and asked if I could get the permit faxed there. "Of course, as long as we are open, you can get the fax." Ummm, "thanks" I say, as I am already coming up with Plan B in my head.

Off to the boat I go, call up my dad and ask if he can fax something via his computer. I would have called my mom, but she would have had to looked in the owner's manual how to do it, and most likely would have had to call my brother-in-law to have him walk her through the process! She would have happily done it, and she is getting better at computers, but I thought it would be best to spare Todd that process. Well, dad's computer didn't have a fax program after all, but a good friend, Leslie had a fax machine and was at home, so I emailed her Niko's paperwork, she faxed it off with a request to have the permit faxed back to her, which it was, and then she emailed me the permit, which I printed off and presented to customs. They looked at it as if they had never seen one before, and I gingerly showed them the words " permission granted". They took my customs clearance paperwork and in the empty box titled "weapons and ammunition" they wrote in "dog - black and white". Finally, Niko was legal to poop on dry land!

Reunion with the Picton Castle!

 

The Picton Castle

What a week we had in Jost Van Dyke, BVI. It actually all started in St Thomas, USVI. We anchored in Red Hook, which I would advise you not to do as various ferries travel from Red Hook to St. John about every 15 minutes, and they have no sympathy for anchored sailboats. I think they secretly live to throw as much of a wake at us as possible! Anyway, we got ourselves anchored in a crowed, rolly anchorage at about 2:30 pm and went off to find customs , which closes at 4:30pm, and then meet our two friends who were flying in.
We had agreed to meet Deeana and Dustin (aka D-Bo) at Molly Malones, an Irish pub in Red Hook sometime between 3:00 pm and closing. Now, Red Hook, although it is one of the larger anchorages in St. Thomas, does not have a customs house. No problem, I have a US cruising permit and everyone on board is a US citizen, right? Wrong. Evidently, you can't just call up and report your cruising permit number and passport number, at least the lady I spoke to on the phone said you couldn't. Nope, we had to take a cab half way around the island. Okay, no problem, we have about an hour and a half at this point. So, off we go to find a cab...which we did, and he volunteered to take us for $60. Whoa! Or, he said, we could hop on the "safari" for $1. A safari is basically a pick-up truck with its tail down and rows of bench seats welded in the back, all under a hard top for shade. Ingenious idea. Maria, Scott and myself hopped on one of the safaris, told the driver we wanted to go to customs, and thought we were golden, as we had about an hour at this point after all. There is alot of traffic in St. Thomas, and the safaris are more like buses that have a specific route...up around one hill, down another, swing by K-Mart, you get the picture. At about 4:25, I started to get nervous. At 4:35 I knew we weren't making customs and started preparing myself to do this trip again in the morning. At 4:45 we got dropped off in front of the customs house, tried the door, and of course it wasn't open. So what do you do? Look dumbfounded, surprised and disappointed in the parking lot. As we were doing this, a very nice lady approached us and asked what was wrong. We explained our situation, and she said " you have your cruising permit, you are all US citizens?". " Yes ma'am", we replied. "Well, you are fine then. Consider yourself cleared in. I am officer Glasford. I clear in the boats and if you have any problems, tell them to ask for me." And so, we were cleared in while standing in the parking lot!

Frank and D-Bo sailing from St Thomas to Jost van Dyke

We hopped back on the safari, went to the Irish bar, met up with D-Bo and Deanna and caught up over a nice pint of Guinness.


The next day, we all hoped back on the safari, went to the grocery store to provision for the upcoming week, did some laundry and waited at Molly Malones for our other friend, Frank to meet us. Frank, D-Bo, Maria an I all sailed together on the Picton-Castle, which was scheduled to be in Jost the next day. Two of our old shipmates, Mike and Rebecca were now the First and Third mates on the PC. Frank's girlfriend, Suzanne is also on the ship, and of course, the Captain was still there. Needless to say, we were all excited.


The next morning, bright and early, we heaved up the anchor and sailed the 10 miles across to Jost. We were there before the PC, so we relaxed, made some rum drinks, and sat there eagerly awaiting their arrival. About 2 rum drinks later, the PC, with all 16 sails set, including 10 square sails, appeared on the horizon. About 3 rum drinks after that, she was close enough for us to greet her by skiff. All 6 of us, plus Niko, jumped in our 11 foot Boston Whaler named the Minnow, which doesn't have much freeboard to begin with, and sped off toward the PC with someone al the helm who shall remain nameless but was NOT one of the Joana crew!





In the skiff just before the "Incident"

We were all hooting and hollering at the PC, and the helmsman was looking not just at the ship, but rather at who was on the ship, when everything went horribly wrong. The PC was not quite anchored yet and was still making way. A large wave came from her stern wake toward us. Time slowed. I could see hands go on to mouths from our fans on the PC who have not met us yet but who have heard great things about us. I saw arms flaring from everyone inside the Minnow and people yelling "noooooooooo". The first wave hit. The bow dug under, and I'm pretty sure the stern was sticking out of the water at a 90 degree angle. Lucky for us, Boston Whalers don't sink, as the only part of the boat that was still above water was the rub rail. Then we got hit by the second wave. The boat lists heavily to one side and then slowly to the other, as everyone inside is scrambling to stay in the middle so we don't tip her anymore than we have to. The dog was barking. The gas tank was floating. We are up to our chests in water as we float above the seats. I look up to see our old Captain and teacher bow his head, close his eyes, and slowly shake his head back and forth. Maria sharply pointed her finger back to our boat, and the PC alumni limped back to Joana, the only damage being to our egos.

Captain Moreland

The following days were spent hanging out with our old friends, swapping PC stories with the current crew, lounging in hammocks at Ivans stress free bar ( which was stress free for Scott as he slept in the hammock until Maria put a hermit crab down his shorts to wake him up) and dancing to reggae at Foxy's. Frank had gotten a house that overlooked White Bay and he hosted a bar-b-que one night. 

Typical Marlin Spike gear

The next night, we had everyone on board for a party and to check out Joana. Everyone loved her, but most importantly, Captain Moreland loved her and told us how proud he was of us. That's quite an "atta boy" from him! The party ended up as a marlinspike, with crazy shirts and hats being sported, including someone wearing my old Columbia basketball uniform. The night ended very serenely with Mike Moreland playing the guitar and singing Bob Dillon songs as Maria joined on the tambourine.



Going for a day sail

The next day, everyone went for a day sail on the Picton Castle and Scott just kept saying, "wow, that's a lot of work. Now I know why you guys are like you are!" The following day, Frank had to leave, so we took Joana on a short day sail over to West End to drop him off at the ferry, sailed back, and had waterspouts day. We broke out all of our swim floaties, paddle board and wind surfer. It was a great way to spend the last day with our old and new friends.

We had to say good-bye the next morning, motored over to St. John, USVI, said good-bye to D-Bo and Deanna, and promptly fell asleep.