Another day, another blog (a Gary Post) (delayed)

We have been quite slack lately with our blogs.  Maybe the Caribbean way is starting to sink in, or maybe, the lack of internet, I am not sure.  We are on island time, we have checked out.

We have been anchored in Francis Bay on St John (US Virgin Islands) for the last 4 days and although it may not have the charm of the North Sound, or the hustle and bustle (If that is even possible here) of Charlotte Amalie we love it here.  When we arrived I jokingly told Kate that I had booked the Turtles for 5pm.  They arrived at 3:18. 

The next morning, equipped with our new DSLR camera, we walked the 1km to the Annaberg Ruin.  This is an old sugar cane plantation factory that also made rum.

termites nest - not welcome on our boat!!

a great place to hide from the rain... not.

We also spied some Mongoose which are similar to the ferret.  We were told hat they were introduced to control that rat problem (sound familiar?).  The only issue was that Mongoose are active during the day and rats are active during the night and so never come into contact with eachother.  Fortunately they have managed to find harmony with the local ecosystem, and are only a pest to the local tourist who was stupid enough to leave their backpack in a place where the mongoose can get at it.  They can, and will, open your backpack and eat your lunch!
 

I also discovered that even though we are in a National Park, you are allowed to catch the local crayfish, known here as lobster.  So with this gem of information, off I went in dinghy (still yet to be named) to the rocky point where I was sure there would be the odd prawn for the taking.  Instead to crayfish I stumbled on to what has probably been the most pretty snorkel yet.  On this snorkel I saw all the fish contained in the index of our Caribbean fish book, including some species that I had not seen recently, including the Spotted Drum and the Banded Butterflyfish.

While I was off snorkelling, Kate made us some bread that turned out exceptionally well.

We headed into Cruz Bay one morning to fetch some provision.  The guide book told us that it was the largest town on St John.  However, we found Cruz Bay fairly disappointing.  Although there were a few interesting art shops, there was only one badly stocked supermarket whose prices were significantly higher than other places we have been.  We got the bare necessities and headed back to Francis Bay.

The chef has also been pretty good to me. Hopefully this is not the dragon enticing her prey into her den  (prior to marriage) but rather a sign of things to come after we get married in March.

meet the chef

So I sit here and write this, rum in hand (only because it is cheaper than water, cough), listening to Bob Marley signing no woman no cry and I think that life aint half bad. 

BVI to USVI - disasters and adventures

 Like any disaster, titanic or plane crash, it happens only when a number of factors coincide.  Any one factor will not suffice; it is only the culmination of those factors that causes the disaster. 

For seasickness, the factors are (1) rough sea (2) wet (3) cold (4) hungry, and (5) uncomfortable.

On Monday morning, Gary and I decided to head down from North Sound on Virgin Gorda to West End Tortola to check out of the BVI, then on to Cruz Bay on St John to check into the US Virgin Islands.

Gary checked the weather forecast – 25-30 knots is all he tells me.  We are looking forward to a good sail and a bit of an adventure so neither of us is hesitant to head out.  As we up anchor and enter the channel we see that the wind waves have turned the sea into a choppy mess.  Factor 1 is ticked off the list.  It is also hard to miss the ominous black cloud that threatens to pass over us.  Before we have even really left the safe anchorage, the wind picks up and the black cloud unleashes its wrath.  The rain, as hard as ice, bites at my face, arms and legs, as I am only clothed in shorts and a singlet – check factor 2.  Gary yells expletives as if to say WHOAHOOOO! as we slam through the waves.  The heavy rain reduces our visibility to only the immediate surroundings.  The wind is relentless and unescapable.  I try to take cover under the spray hood, contorting myself as far into the shelter as possible.  Now I’m not only cold, but also extremely uncomfortable, tick factors 3 and 5.  An hour and a half or so passes, the rain, wind and waves have not let up.  It is at this point that I begin to regret the tiny breakfast I had that morning in an attempt to consider the “wedding body” that I am supposed to be striving for.  The final factor, hunger, is ticked off and I begin to feel sick. 

Despite feeling queasy, I am forced to concentrate as Gary deviates from our navigational plan.  In an attempt to avoid two gibes which would have needed all hands on deck, instead of heading down the unencumbered channel, Gary decides to cut through the small and treacherous Dog Islands, with submerged rocks hidden in the centre of each passage through.  I breath a sigh of relief as we pass through safely.  I start to concentrate on my “Yoga breathing”, which proves effective in quelling my sea sickness.  I have soon recovered sufficiently to take the helm, and the sun finally shows its face.

We reach West End by 2pm, a little later than we had anticipated.  We decide to get some cash out, in case we need to pay any fees.  The ATM won’t recognise our card.  We have had this before.  So we jump in a taxi and take the 15minute trip to Nanny Cay to use the next ATM.  When we finally get back to the boat, we eat a quick lunch and check out of the BVI.  The official is surprisingly pleasant, joking with us and barely reading the papers. 

It is now about 3.30 and we need to get to Cruz Bay to check into the US Virgin Islands before immigration closes at 6pm. We make good time and reach Cruz Bay in about an hour.  We head into the small bay, crowded with fishing vessels.  There is no space at the customs dock to tie up, nor any depth to anchor in the bay.  We head out and try to find a space within the moorings of the greater bay, no luck.  We head to the next bay, but find the bottom is completely coral and cannot be anchored in.  We try again to anchor amongst the moored vessels in the greater bay.  But after finally securing a space, we are approached by a dinghy telling us that we can’t stay there as a big catamaran who moors there is about to return.  We up anchor once more.  We FINALLY find a spot further down the coast and make the long trip into customs by dinghy.  It is now about 5.15pm. 

We try to tie our dinghy up by the customs dock, but are ushered off the restricted area.  We follow the instructions and park at the dinghy dock and walk through town to get back into the secured customs area.  At nearly 5.30pm we join the long line at customs (a ferry had just arrived), along with our wad of official boat paperwork.  We are last in line.  We are received by the exhausted customs officer who tells us that we are his last customer of the day.  We tell him our story, that the boat has just been purchased and we are yet to register her in NZ.  He seems less concerned about the boat, and more concerned that we don’t have a visa.  We completed the visa waiver application while in NZ.  He tells us that the visa waiver does not apply if you are entering on a private vessel.  After various discussions with other staff, and phone calls with officials the kind customs officer allows us entry into the US with a stern warning to get the correct visa.

Tired and delirious from our long day, we return to the boat, which has only been temporarily anchored in an exposed position.  As night closes in on us, we push on to find somewhere to anchor for the night.  The closest anchorage is full of boats.  We spend more time searching the field of moorings for a space, but alas find none.  We resort to anchoring at the very entrance of the bay.  A large, expensive looking catamaran one side and jagged rocks with teeth bared on the other.  We fall into bed and sleep.  Well to be honest neither of us really slept.  We both woke up to the sound of waves crashing, which might be relaxing when having a massage at the spa, but trust me is not relaxing when you have anchored your new boat mere metres away!  We took turns at rushing up on deck when we heard a strange sound, or just got the feeling that the anchor may be dragging.  Luckily, we were safely anchored and none of our fears eventuated. 

In the morning, both drunk from lack of sleep, we ventured on to Charlotte Amalie, our final destination, to go shopping. We spent a couple of days exploring Charlotte Amalie with its high end stores like Louis Vuitton and Coach, and the endless diamond and jewellery stores.  We passed a bar called “Hooters”.  We were both intrigued by the link to the boat “Hooter Patrol” that we had seen earlier.  The sign said “Come in and check out our merchandise”...and so we did.

It was not my finest hour when I asked the Hooters waitress to bring me her favourite drink...We had been discussing various types of smoothie, but instead she brought me an instantly intoxicating drink called, some-type-of-physical-activity on the beach.

Feeling slightly dazed, perhaps from the drink, perhaps from the levels of hydrogen peroxide in the air, we headed back to the boat.  

anchored in the bay

anchored in the bay

rain in paradise

entrance to Charlotte Amalie

Not Charlotte Amalie.. but St James bay

St James Bay looking the current gap

The chef at work

Typical boat food

Diving at the Dogs (A Gary Blog)

I have been holding out for a night dive, but unfortunately they needed 5 people to make it happen.  So I went for a dive today at the Dogs instead.

This morning, after a bit or a rush to get ready, I arrived at the Bitter End Yacht Club at 8am, bang on time.  We headed out to the Dogs, where our two dives were to be.

Our first dive was at the Gardens.  You begin by swimming out over, you guessed it, a garden of Coral.  Soon you reach the sand bottom, and a little further the wreck of a small 12 seater plane.  The plane had apparently crashed on the runway at Beef Island, Tortola and had just been left to sit.  The authorities decided that a crashed plane on the side of the runway was not such a good look for the airport (funny that), so stripped it out and sunk it for an interesting dive site.

centipede thingy

hmm.. a bit small, will give him a few years

The dive instructor told us that our second dive site, Bronco Billy, was Jacques Cousteau's favourite of the BVI.  It gets its name from the swim through (underwater archway), which surges back and forth with the swell, just like a bucking bronco.  The dive was a really pretty dive.  There was a lot of canyons full of coral and interesting fish.  I even saw an Octopus.  The dive actually reminded me a lot of the Poor Knights off Tutukaka, New Zealand.  I was about as warm as I would have been diving at the Knights too, but then I had traded my 5ml wetsuit and hood for a rash top!

Trumpet fish - they just blend into their surroundings and play "twig"

Octopussy

Lobster - translates in Maori to "Dinner".  This guy would not stand a chance in NZ.

An interesting aside, spear guns are not permitted in the BVI however, the instructors here have been granted a license to use spear guns to kill Lion Fish.  Lion Fish are extremely beautiful and we were lucky enough to see some on our Trip to Tahiti a few years back.  Some time in the 1990's a Lion Fish was released into Florida waters.  Rumor has it, it either came from the South Florida Aquarium that was destroyed in a hurricane, or from some fish enthusiast's tank when he got sick of cleaning it.  The Lion Fish soon spread throughout the Caribbean.  The Lion Fish on the Caribbean reefs have no natural predators, unlike in the Pacific, and can reduce the amount of juvenile fish on a reef by 75% in 5 weeks (see The Atlantic.com website).  So the instructors, therefore, are killing off the Lion Fish to preserve the reefs.

We are heading into the resort for dinner tonight.  We are avoiding the expensive restaurant and opting for a pub meal instead. 

Tomorrow we are planning to head to Charlotte Amilie in the US Virgin Islands, but will see how we go.  No doubt we will have something interesting for you about going through customs.  I expect the trip will be a bit quicker  than my last international boat trip from the West island to the North island (AUS-NZ) given that USVI is (literally) within swimming distance.

North Sound

Yesterday we threw off the lines and headed out.  Freedom.

For the last week we have been constrained by appointments with contractors, and deliveries of our new toys, not being able to taste the true freedom that comes with being a live aboard.

We made a beeline for North Sound.  On our voyage, we went past the Dogs with their dramatic coastline.

We also passed a surprising number of charter boats, complete with their fenders over the side despite being in the middle of the channel.  It escapes me how these people are able to helm a boat safely.

At the entrance to North Sound is a little island called Necker Island.  You may know it’s owner Richard Branson...

As we came into anchor, I was again amazed at the colour and clarity of the water.  As soon as we had anchored (thanks to our new windlass), we both jumped straight in for a swim. 

After cooking another gourmet meal, I felt exhausted and to be honest, a little grumpy.  I took refuge in the cockpit and read my book.  Gary has hooked up the cockpit light, which creates a nice ambiance.  Gary decided he needed to shake my grumpy mood.  In the glow of the new cockpit light I saw Gary’s white behind flash past and jump right over the side.  Shocked (more because of the fact that he had got in before me), I disrobed and jumped in too.  Sorry guys, no photo of that one.

This morning we went ashore to the Bitter End Yacht Club.  the BEYC is a rather upmarket resort/sailing club which holds some big name events attracting some very prestigious sailors.  

We took a wander around the resort and decided to walk the Mangrove Trail, just to see where it went.  The path creeps along the shoreline, with mangroves and native trees enclosing the path.  The sound of lizards scurrying on either side almost drowned out the sound of the waves lapping.  The path finally opened onto a brand new road.  We had found ourselves at the Biras Creek Resort. 

Further along the path I glimpsed something large scurry into the bushes.  We went to investigate and found a bright green Iguana.  

The gasps and cries of some other visitors called us to this sight...

The “PRIVATE RESORT” signs placed ever few metres encouraged us to take our leave, and go back along the Mangrove Trail to the Bitter End Yacht Club and a Mango Smoothie.

someones tender