I was with a handful of other sailors at the customs office when the doors opened. Our extra copies of the crew list was very helpful, but I was never sure if we were "crew" or "passengers" and I was asked over and over again. But, I got through customers in just a few minutes. Or did I? No. The other half of customs--the part that really counted because cash was exchanged--hadn't happened yet because the agent was not there. I was sent to the "Commercial Dock" to find the agent. I did not know what I was looking for. Here we go!
I befriended a Scott who was trying to clear out of Anguilla and knew who the agent was. He hadn't seen her. He thought everything was too expensive given the world-wide money crunch. Suddenly, he saw her and engaged her in conversation about clearing out. "No;" she said. "Not possible." Hmm. Were we supposed to bribe her to do her job? The Scott sweet-talked her until she agreed to meet us back at the Customs Office. He thought she might give us a ride, but that wasn't going to happen. We walked the beach again back to the Office.
A half-hour later and $100 got me cleared to have lunch on Prickly Pair. It was easy. She had no forms. No receipts. No concept that I didn't know what she or I was doing! Still we both muddled through. Great! More paradise ahead.
We had a lovely sail and dinghy ride to a beautiful lunch spot. The view of the waves off the reef that spanned the entire width of the island was magical. I'd never seen so many kinds of blue.
We couldn't stay long, because we were to leave Anguilla that day. After lunch, we dropped our mooring ball and sailed to Grand Case, St. Martins, which was celebrating the weekly market day. The streets were filled with street venders and shoppers. A brass band marched up and down while children danced before it. We danced too.
La Bodega was a topas bar with a nice server and very slow service. A disappointing meal at a great location. How did we manage that?
The dingy dock was overflowing with boats. We had locked ours to a ring on the dock, but where was it? It had floated or been dragged under the dock to the other side.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Road Bay, Anguilla
The sea is better today, but nearly behind us. I attempt to keep the apparent wind at to more than 120 degrees. During a jibe or traveler line snaps off at splice. We make a repair on the go by holding back the traveler with a dock line.
We appear to be in plenty of time to clear customers this afternoon, but get to the customs 5 minutes before closing and they are already closed. Just what we didn't want.
Dinner is steak, corn, and mushrooms. Food really tastes good here.
After dinner, we played cards: a game I'd never heard of before called Mao. No apologies.
We appear to be in plenty of time to clear customers this afternoon, but get to the customs 5 minutes before closing and they are already closed. Just what we didn't want.
Dinner is steak, corn, and mushrooms. Food really tastes good here.
After dinner, we played cards: a game I'd never heard of before called Mao. No apologies.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Tintemarre
The sea was 10-feet and higher and we had a good wind above 20 knots. It didn't take us long to reach Tintemarre, I little island with a white beach off the Northeast of St. Martins. We headed in and found a nice place to anchor. We could have gotten closer to the cliff for better protection, but this was our first attempt and it seem pretty good.
We set about swimming and taking in this paradise. Dorothy scouted the beach for the mud baths that were to be found just behind the beach. She reported that they had been comandeered by others, so we bathed in salt water instead of red mud.
The menu consisted of fresh-frozen salmon marinated in a version of my sister's recipe. I through these on the grill and hoped for the best. Later we learned that Ron doesn't like salmon, but he raved about this grilled concoction. Paradise can make anything taste royal.
The night was a bit rolly. New sounds and echos in a glass boat made our rest interrupted. Still, it was wonder for our first night in paradise.
We set about swimming and taking in this paradise. Dorothy scouted the beach for the mud baths that were to be found just behind the beach. She reported that they had been comandeered by others, so we bathed in salt water instead of red mud.
The menu consisted of fresh-frozen salmon marinated in a version of my sister's recipe. I through these on the grill and hoped for the best. Later we learned that Ron doesn't like salmon, but he raved about this grilled concoction. Paradise can make anything taste royal.
The night was a bit rolly. New sounds and echos in a glass boat made our rest interrupted. Still, it was wonder for our first night in paradise.
Cast Off to Tintemarre, St. Martins.
Once the staff were back from lunch, we were ready to cast off. The tide was lower than usual and we wouldn't have enough depth along the out dock to clear with our nearly 7-foot keel. This didn't seem to bother the staff, one of whom boarded NiPolos 3 and instructed us to untie the main halyard before casting off. Another jumped into a dinghy and followed us. A few yards out along the outer dock, we ran aground. I was instructed to toss the halyard to the dinghy crew who tied it to the dink and throttled it until we were heel quite well and free. A few yards further, we were aground again and went through the same routine. I was taken aback the the nonchalance of these maneuvers. I considered running aground quite serious, but was happy for the practice in getting us free.
The next actions were to replace the halyard and raise the main. Sunsail didn't want us in the channel without power in case the auxiliary 75 HP Yanmar failed. Just the week before, Sunsail lost a boat returning to Oyster Pond because it got a cross wave that dashed it on a reef. The sea was 10 feet and the wind was 20-Plus at the mouth of Oyster Pond, so we were heading into it. We followed the dinghy out of the harbor into the narrow channel between two reefs on either side. The instructions were to keep the red markers close to port and continue past the red/white buoy for several minutes before setting a course to be sure we had sufficiently cleared reefs north and south.
None of us was going to take any chances. We followed the instructions to the letter and followed the dinghy to the buoy. We also followed a cat that had left before us. We saw it rise and fall with the incoming waves. At one point, we saw it airborne briefly before it settle back on the downward back of a wave. I was happy to be in a deep keeled mono-hull.
The next actions were to replace the halyard and raise the main. Sunsail didn't want us in the channel without power in case the auxiliary 75 HP Yanmar failed. Just the week before, Sunsail lost a boat returning to Oyster Pond because it got a cross wave that dashed it on a reef. The sea was 10 feet and the wind was 20-Plus at the mouth of Oyster Pond, so we were heading into it. We followed the dinghy out of the harbor into the narrow channel between two reefs on either side. The instructions were to keep the red markers close to port and continue past the red/white buoy for several minutes before setting a course to be sure we had sufficiently cleared reefs north and south.
None of us was going to take any chances. We followed the instructions to the letter and followed the dinghy to the buoy. We also followed a cat that had left before us. We saw it rise and fall with the incoming waves. At one point, we saw it airborne briefly before it settle back on the downward back of a wave. I was happy to be in a deep keeled mono-hull.
Oyster Pond Sunsail Chart Briefing
Dorothy and I attended the Sunsail chart briefing at their headquarters in Oyster Pond, Sint Maartens, Dutch Antilles. We got word that a northern swell would build by Friday and we would want to avoid that. We decided to go north first toward Tintemarre and Anguilla and then south to St Barts. We received many instructions about clearing in Anguilla---"take many copies of crew list." I didn't get a good feeling about Road Bay, Anguilla where we must clear customs.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Preseason
March arrived like a snow lion with hours of lake effect snow created by cold air blowing off the unfrozen Lake. It's enough to make one think of Florida--something I've vowed never to do. Generally I write about Speakeasy or, at least, something to do with water but preseason baseball games have begun and Spring can't be far behind. Besides, I just learned what a Lady Godiva Pitch is--a pitch with nothing on it. Here's another one. A Linda Ronstadt Pitch is one that is so fast that it blew by you (as in Blue Bayou). Don't blame me. I've got cabin fever.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
How Speakeasy Got Her Name
As soon as I started contemplating owning a boat, I began working on her name. Names are important to me. I thought of the elements: the sky and water and wind. One morning while I was still half-asleep, the name Starwave fell from the heavens, you might say, and splashed into the waves, so to speak. Immediately I envisioned the name painted on her hull. I saw a flag waving in the breeze emblazoned with three stars above a scalloped wave. When I realized that my design was a dead ringer for the flag of Aargau--the Swiss canton of which I am a citizen, this similarity solidified my choice.
Starwave spoke to me but not to anyone else. Conversations went like this:
“I’ve chosen the name for the sailboat I plan to own someday.”
“Really? What?”
“Starwave.”
“Huh.”
No one understood the name Starwave.
Then I met Bob Bilhorn who has circumnavigated the globe on his 47’ Stephens sailboat Tally Ho. One day as he and I sailed up the Chicago shoreline, Bob explained why a boat’s name must be easy to recognize and remember. When sailing in Indonesia, Tally Ho had pulled up alongside a huge tanker. After exchanging names and pleasantries, the tanker filled up some empty jerry cans with diesel fuel and lowered them down. The boats parted ways.
Not long after, a huge motorboat approached Tally Ho at great speed. Bob immediately radioed on Channel 16,“Tally Ho here to approaching unidentified motor vessel. What are your intentions? Repeat Tally Ho here. What are your intentions?”
The boat veered off. Bob explained, “I knew the tanker monitored Channel 16 and would remember our name and come to our rescue, if need be.”
Scratch Starwave.
By now, Mark and I had joined forces and our boat’s name should reflect our PartnerShip. Maybe Tango Two - we love to tango. Or Jazzbuoy - Mark loves jazz. What if we combine – Bethmark or Mkbeth
Then one morning, a new name dropped from the heavens.
I nudged Mark and whispered, “Speakeasy. The name for our boat.”
“Perfect,” he replied.
You see, my company is Speaking Unlimited, Inc. My book is Speaking Globally. Mark works in the building whose dome housed Al Capone’s notorious speakeasy The Stratosphere Club.
So Speakeasy she is. Easy to recognize and remember--in case we are ever approached by an aggressive unidentified vessel.
In the meantime, we say, “Knock two times and come aboard.”
Starwave spoke to me but not to anyone else. Conversations went like this:
“I’ve chosen the name for the sailboat I plan to own someday.”
“Really? What?”
“Starwave.”
“Huh.”
No one understood the name Starwave.
Then I met Bob Bilhorn who has circumnavigated the globe on his 47’ Stephens sailboat Tally Ho. One day as he and I sailed up the Chicago shoreline, Bob explained why a boat’s name must be easy to recognize and remember. When sailing in Indonesia, Tally Ho had pulled up alongside a huge tanker. After exchanging names and pleasantries, the tanker filled up some empty jerry cans with diesel fuel and lowered them down. The boats parted ways.
Not long after, a huge motorboat approached Tally Ho at great speed. Bob immediately radioed on Channel 16,“Tally Ho here to approaching unidentified motor vessel. What are your intentions? Repeat Tally Ho here. What are your intentions?”
The boat veered off. Bob explained, “I knew the tanker monitored Channel 16 and would remember our name and come to our rescue, if need be.”
Scratch Starwave.
By now, Mark and I had joined forces and our boat’s name should reflect our PartnerShip. Maybe Tango Two - we love to tango. Or Jazzbuoy - Mark loves jazz. What if we combine – Bethmark or Mkbeth
Then one morning, a new name dropped from the heavens.
I nudged Mark and whispered, “Speakeasy. The name for our boat.”
“Perfect,” he replied.
You see, my company is Speaking Unlimited, Inc. My book is Speaking Globally. Mark works in the building whose dome housed Al Capone’s notorious speakeasy The Stratosphere Club.
So Speakeasy she is. Easy to recognize and remember--in case we are ever approached by an aggressive unidentified vessel.
In the meantime, we say, “Knock two times and come aboard.”
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