Barbuda to Bermuda - an uneventful passage, a very eventful arrival!
14 to 20 May 2012
Moosey's newly tattooed head
Motoring over the Barbuda shallows after a casual brekkie, we spotted massive turtles everywhere (my usual favourite dolphins have been rather quiet of late). I scared the hell out of one poor fella when I squealed excitedly about how huge he was. I've never seen one take a breath and disappear so fast and with such a splash. There is something to be said for leaving for a passage on a relaxed note (well rested, ready and organised), on a beautiful sunny day. This passage was one of our most comfortable, enjoyable and also our fastest. I'm positive our state of mind prior to leaving influenced all of those things, aside from our speed (if only we could change the wind & current with sheer willpower). We expected the 900 nm trip to take us a minimum of 9 or 10 days with variable weather and a strong chance of having to motoring out of calms. We sailed the entire passage in 6.5 days with the wind on our beam or behind us and fairly mellow seas. There were squalls and rain and overcast days, but it was all manageable, and without the usual kick in the guts of having current against us at 2 or 3 knots.The nights were certainly cooler so I was rugged up in long pants and my oilskins, even putting shoes (yuck shoes!) on one night. ' Ian the Invincible' resisted and continued wearing shorts. We skirted our way around the edge of the infamous 'Bermuda Triangle', nothing to eerie occurred other than our instruments going haywire for a few hours. Of course Ian was off watch and sleeping at that point so he thinks I was making it up!
Halfway through the trip Ian turned 36. I gave him a little sleep-in (he needs it at his age) and tried ever so quietly to make a surprise birthday cake for him. No mean feat when his sleeping head is right next to the galley. I had to take the ingredients into the cockpit to mix whilst rocking and rolling around, you'd be surprised how loud cracking eggs can be. It was a surprise anyway until he smelt it cooking, but I wouldn't allow him to see it till I'd iced it later in the day. Unfortunately I had to wake him up with some bad news….Laani: "what is the one thing you would definitely NOT want to be doing on your birthday?". Ian: "ummmm…fixing the toilet???"…..poor Ian spent the entire morning of his birthday fixing the heads. It took hours of sweaty labour getting it apart, fixing the problem, getting it back together (all whilst being bounced around of course), only to have a different part break, have to pull it all apart and start over again. In hindsight, perhaps moist chocolate cake wasn't the most appropriate choice of cake….Still, after a special birthday dinner, a couple of birthday drinks and the opening of his presses it probably didn't seem quite so bad. I wonder where we will be for his next birthday?
Arriving well ahead of schedule was pretty uplifting (especially since the weather was forecast to get pretty nasty over the next few days with the passing of Tropical Cyclone Alberto) but as is usually the case with me, my excitement kept me from sleeping so I was pretty tired. But this was definitely the most relaxed and organised arrival we've had: Kadoona was was tidied inside and out, beds made, floors swept, cockpit cleaned and extra sails stowed, a lot of stuff which is done after we have anchored and checked in with authorities. Like New Zealand though, we were required to bring the boat alongside to the customs/ immigration dock. And here folks I have the pleasure of giving you non sailors a lesson in what NOT to do when going alongside. I threw the spring line up and then jumped up (the dock was a couple of feet higher than Kadoona) with the bowline. The other line slipped into the water which then had Ian yelling at me to get it, in case it caught in the prop (a definite no-no, so he was completely right to yell). Unfortunately I completely underestimated my lack of land legs and also misjudged the distance from where I knelt on the edge of the dock to Kadoona, and promptly fell head first into the water. in discussion later with Ian he reckons I looked like a seal, I prefer to think of it as an elegant swan dive. So now Ian jumped up, trying to tie up the boat on his own and hold it off the dock so it didn't crush me….I was flailing in the water between our l17 tonne boat and a barnacle covered dock, with Ian screaming at me to 'get OUT OUT OUT to the back of the boat'…for some reason I was holding on to the line which caused me to fall in the first place! Obviously I wasn't thinking clearly. I managed to get out of the boat/dock sandwich, hoist myself up the back of Kadoona, untie the ladder (only to have it smash down on my head) and climb up like drowned bleeding rat, all the while nearly hyperventilating! That could have been soooooo baaaaad! " Bermuda Radio to Kadoona….normally we ask that you clear customs before going snorkelling….do you require medical assistance?" The scratches and bruises will heal, not sure about embarrassment. I was pretty annoyed though since I'd just put on clean clothes. Ian was pretty annoyed because NO ONE (including a woman from the FBI) helped him to tie Kadoona up so he could help me get out of the water. It was very much a case of hands-up-in-the -air and "I'm not getting involved". We were processed fairly quickly then (after my quick hot shower and change of clothes), I think they felt sorry for us. Apparently it has never happened before. Never mind, we got to anchor spent several gin and tonic discussing how lucky I was.
After a much needed sleep in we decided Ian should cut his foot open with a medical grade scalpel. He had gotten a huge splinter in his heel after jumping onto the dock the previous arvo and it looked to be in very deep. The second dumb idea in 24 hours. For those that haven't used these scalpels they are incredible, the cut so deep that it doesn't even hurt for quite a while. When he put the probe in to try and get the splinter out he said "oh, I feel a bit dizzy" and proceeded to pass out in a very precarious position. I never understood how heavy a 'dead weight' is (I'm the one that normally faints so it's strange to be on the other side of it). Lucky for him, I caught his head from hitting the floor, but the only thing I could do was cradle it and wait for him to come to. I couldn't move him at all. Scary stuff. I think it was pay back for scaring the hell out of him on the dock. Looking back though, I think we've been extremely lucky in our whole trip. We've heard of broken bones, deep gashes and much much worse.…we've only had a couple of small hiccups in the whole time we've been away. Luck of the Irish?
Bermuda - "Bermuda, Bahama, come a pretty mama"….remember the Beach Boys song??
20 to 30 May 2012
a secret garden, tucked away behind the museum
Bermuda is a fine example of low expectations working in your favour. Don't believe the hype about 'glass half empty' being negative thing. Ian and I both thought of Bermuda as a place to rest, break up the long tedious trip to the Azores, provision and pick up our 'crew' (Ian's mate Eoin). Also, it being the main stopover for a yachties (to and from the US and Europe), and it's close proximity to America might lead to the locals being completely jaded with tourists and foreigners. Instead we found an extremely friendly and welcoming bunch of people, the type who tip their hat as they enter the local supermarket whilst addressing the entire staff and shoppers with 'and how IS everyone today?'. How many places do you know where that still happens? We found a great little local bar (i.e.,no cruise ship tourists, just the odd cruiser) called the East End Mini Yacht Club. Painted bright pink, plastic tables and chairs on the balcony and overlooking the anchorage (because we don't get enough time to look at our boats). It had the same view as the tourist haunts but drinks were half the price and the clientele much more colourful. Each night we were there (and one particularly very very early morning) the locals wanted to know how we were,what we'd been up to, what we thought of their tiny country and were happy to sure the love of their island. Of course we learnt a few sad facts as well, such as the issues with America style gangs, drugs and turf wars (there was a fatal shooting the day we arrived). I suppose it's better to be aware of the good and bad of a place………
So, to the geography of our current little island paradise - Bermuda is actually a series of islands joined together by causeways which collectively only measure about 12 miles in length and 3 miles in width. All of the little coves and beaches we saw were clean and the water stunningly clear. The UNESCO World heritage listed town of St George, and the main anchorage for cruisers, is set into the hillside on the eastern island. This picturesque little town is filled with lovely old churches (blue ones, pink ones, ones lit only by candles, ones 'Unfinished' - yes that is actually the name of one), restored forts, cobblestone streets and pastel coloured traditional buildings. The main square still has gallows in it and has a funny re-enactment for tourists of a 'dunking', which is the punishment for nagging or gossiping wives. The offending women were made to sit at the end of a see-saw and dunked over and over into the cold harbour water until it was deemed enough. Fancy that! A nagging wife!…They probably had good reason to nag…
Also in the anchorage was one other Irish boat named Pylades (we met them earlier in Antigua) who were on their way home after a three year circumnavigation. It turns out Kay and Fergus were in Auckland the same time as us last year (Paddy's Day), but somehow our paths never crossed (their aren't many Irish boats cruising) before heading off in opposite directions. It's comforting for us to know that they too are heading to the Azores and on to Ireland in the same time frame as us, although being a lot lighter and a bit bigger we will probably shadowing them from behind. I'd guess in Ian's 'racer' mind he is also happy to have someone to race with "if there is one other boat in the water with us, it is a race). We also picked up our first ever 'crew' member for a passage in the form of Eoin, another Irishman (I'm severely outnumbered now, but I suppose the sooner I get used to that the better) and Ian's good friend from Crosshaven. Before too long we had filled up with food, fuel and water, had our final too many drinks at the Mini Yacht Club and it was time to go to sea.
So, to the geography of our current little island paradise - Bermuda is actually a series of islands joined together by causeways which collectively only measure about 12 miles in length and 3 miles in width. All of the little coves and beaches we saw were clean and the water stunningly clear. The UNESCO World heritage listed town of St George, and the main anchorage for cruisers, is set into the hillside on the eastern island. This picturesque little town is filled with lovely old churches (blue ones, pink ones, ones lit only by candles, ones 'Unfinished' - yes that is actually the name of one), restored forts, cobblestone streets and pastel coloured traditional buildings. The main square still has gallows in it and has a funny re-enactment for tourists of a 'dunking', which is the punishment for nagging or gossiping wives. The offending women were made to sit at the end of a see-saw and dunked over and over into the cold harbour water until it was deemed enough. Fancy that! A nagging wife!…They probably had good reason to nag…
Also in the anchorage was one other Irish boat named Pylades (we met them earlier in Antigua) who were on their way home after a three year circumnavigation. It turns out Kay and Fergus were in Auckland the same time as us last year (Paddy's Day), but somehow our paths never crossed (their aren't many Irish boats cruising) before heading off in opposite directions. It's comforting for us to know that they too are heading to the Azores and on to Ireland in the same time frame as us, although being a lot lighter and a bit bigger we will probably shadowing them from behind. I'd guess in Ian's 'racer' mind he is also happy to have someone to race with "if there is one other boat in the water with us, it is a race). We also picked up our first ever 'crew' member for a passage in the form of Eoin, another Irishman (I'm severely outnumbered now, but I suppose the sooner I get used to that the better) and Ian's good friend from Crosshaven. Before too long we had filled up with food, fuel and water, had our final too many drinks at the Mini Yacht Club and it was time to go to sea.