Saturday, May 24, 2014

Day One: St. Vincent to Bequia

The tropical birds were supposed to be loud enough to wake me, but it was a good thing I set the alarm clock.  After a couple of Rum Ti's (just to get into the spirit of the trip) the previous evening, I needed the extra jarring the clock provided to drag my hung over body out of the sack.  Holy headache - I'm s'posed to go sailing today?  I took a couple of pills, brushed my teeth and headed out in search of breakfast.

There were several open tables so I naturally chose the closest one.  Still sleeping, I tried to move the chair far enough from under the table I could sit in it, but needed the help of a crew cut, bearded guy about half my age, to unstick it from the deck.  He introduced himself, saying the owner had pointed me out as one of his crew.  Turns out he was Captain Chris and he was the guy who would determine whither or not I could still manage a boat after an absence of more than 36 years.   Great.  What a terrific first impression I must have made.

After assuring him I usually had a better morning, we ordered and started to get to know one another.  While we were eating, we were informed the flight carrying the other two members of the crew had been delayed and they were not expected for another couple of hours.  No biggie, Chris and I just finished eating and then he presented me with the ASA 101 exam.  It took another cup of coffee while I checked answers I hoped were correct.

Nothing wrong with my memory, I was easily able to recall the bow was at the front and the stern was in back.  100%, he said.  Wow.  I just got my ASA101 certificate, hung over and all!  When one of the local stevedores heard the news, he helped me celebrate by carrying my sea bag to the boat.  The five dollar tip he received helped a bit, I think.   It worked for both of us; he carried the bag and I wrung the neck of what was left in the bottle that so brutally mistreated me the night before as I carried it to the boat.

No, that's not the boat we were to use on this voyage, it's just one I kinda want for my birthday and thought I needed to toss it in here somewhere.  Our boat was a 44 foot Dufor Gib'Sea - the one on the left of the picture below - and my bag was placed with care in the stern cockpit.

 
  The bottle I carried was casually tossed in on top of it. 











Since it was my habit to sleep on deck during warm nights some three decades earlier, I selected one of the aft bunks to be closer to the companionway in case of rain at night.  After stowing my gear, Chris gave me a tour of the boat and it's systems.  There were some unfamiliar items; equipment has changed a bit in the last thirty some odd years, but mostly I was familiar with it.  We settled in to wait for the rest of the crew and swapped lies. 

After several more hours, our other crew mates arrived and climbed on board.  Chris fired up the engine, we cast off the stern lines and were off!  Not yet sailing, but at long last headed to sea.  We had a 19 Kt wind at our back as we motored away from the dock so we made a quick escape to open waters.  Fifteen minutes or so later we turned and headed into the wind to raise the mainsail.

Now, I must remind you readers of my claim to be familiar with most of the boats systems.  Remember that?  Well, one of the items on this boat that I did not have on the boat I called home for years was a lazyjack system to help manage the sails.  My 26 footer from way back when didn't need them.  The main on a boat that size is much easier to handle.  So..............of course I clipped the halyard to the head of the sail before we left the dock without checking to see if it was clear of the lazywhatevers.  Chris sort of chuckled while Joe tried his best to jump the main.  Luckily, Sam had a decent view of what was happening and told him to stop.  About this time I noticed we were almost back to the dock so I turned back downwind and headed away from the rocks - one more time.

A half gallon of diesel later we tried again.  While on downwind Sam squared away the main halyard, Joe got back into position to jump, and I managed to get rid of my red face.  I reversed course so the boat was headed into the wind, we FINALLY raised the mainsail, and turned back to sea.  I brought the boat to a broad reach, we managed to get the jib up with no problem, and set our course for the island of Bequia, where we would spend our first night on the hook. 

The voyage was made on a broad reach through 5 foot seas with a 19 Kt wind.  We had reefed the main at the first point before raising it and that proved prudent.  It was a blast being on the water again and we all took a turn at the helm for the two hour transit. Upon gaining Bequia, we reeled in the jib, fired up the motor and motorsailed into Admiralty Bay.  We throttled back, dropped the main, and Chris took the helm as Joe and Sam loosed the anchor.  Using the time honored and proven theory that all things will eventually wind up at the bottom of the boat, I managed to find the bottle of rum.  Just it time, it turned out,  cause we all needed a drink to celebrate!

Sam and Joe had to take their 101 exam while Chris and I proved ourselves heros to each other over the first couple of glasses.  We found the propane solenoid, located a pot and filled it with something or other we agreed to eat after it was warm.  Ah, life on a boat.  It's all I remembered!

Link to images of a 44 foot Gib'Sea

https://www.google.com/search?site=&tbm=isch&source=hp&biw=1038&bih=660&q=44+foot+Gib%27Sea&oq=44+foot+Gib%27Sea&gs_l=img.12...9348.15365.0.17930.15.8.0.7.7.0.190.972.4j4.8.0....0...1ac.1.45.img..6.9.973.NRU6xz_VvCM

 


Saturday, May 3, 2014

Kingstown

St. Vincent and the Grenadines

The flight to Kingstown on LIAT Airlines lasted only 25 minutes or so and because I was sitting on the starboard side of the plane all l was able to see was water the entire trip.   Oh well, that's just my luck.  The Lord plays tricks like that on me all the time.  He knew I was going to be on the water for seven days and wanted to let me know what to expect.  Right.......

The charter company assured me there would be a driver to pick me up at the airport to take me to my hotel for the night so I was not surprised when he walked right up and asked if I was his passenger.  It was surprising that he walked up to me and not someone else.  I guess it was because my body was whiter than any of the other tan ones that got off the plane.  So much for fitting in.  The taxi ride to my room, promised as taking no more than 10 minutes, was actually made in less than seven minutes.  Johnnie, the driver, turned out to be a NASCAR wannabe with a death wish.  We sped around a winding one and a half lane road.  Instead of slowing and moving a little more to our side of the road when a car was coming in the opposite direction, Johnnie sounded his horn and sped up.  Later I learned that the guy with the loudest horn has the right of way.  Or something like that.  

Traffic lanes resemble those in England; oncoming traffic passes on the right, and I imagine all the cars with the right side dented and scratched, maybe 70 percent of all traffic, are the result of drivers being unable to determine who had the loudest horn.  If any of you readers are so inclined, there's a pile of money to be made here.  Just invent one or another devise that will measure the decibel level of competing horns and display that information on the dashboard.  I'm sure they'll sell like hot cakes. 

I'll never know how it happened (my eyes were closed much of the time) but we made it to the hotel without adding more dents to the car.  I thanked Johnnie and tipped him way too much.  I figure just getting there unharmed was worth the money.  The front desk was ready for me, and my heavy duffel bag was given to a skinny guy who weighed maybe forty pounds more than it did.  He managed it much more easily than I.  Wow.  I'm outta shape.  The view from the room was amazing; I could see the lagoon, the sailboats moored there and native trees.  Beautiful.

 After locating all my shaving gear, I showered, shaved and went to find some food.  The restaurant  was just as amazing, with a different view of the same scene.  And, to the side of the path leading there I had to pass several banana trees loaded with fruit that was almost ripe.  Too bad I hadn't waited for another week or two;  I could have grabbed a couple to eat on the boat.

That was to be the last night I would spend in a full sized bed and in air conditioned comfort for a while.  In the morning I would meet my shipmates and board a 44 foot Dufor Gib'Sea for a week.