A Glimpse of French Polynesia

After weeks, literally, at sea among the great rollers of the massive Pacific Plain, we dropped anchor inside Point Venus, Tahiti. The 1:00am set was the climax of an evening speed run, 11.5 knots from Fakarava to Tahiti, full moon rising, emotions running high on Sea Child. As we neared Tahiti, we knew change was in the air, a crew change and a direction change. Sea Child had covered over 5000 miles from Panama, we witnessed pure beauty in the flat calm, we rode bikes on white coral atolls of the Tuamotus. Our pomploumousse from Fatu Hiva was ripe, our laundry bags full. Arriving in Tahiti, beautiful paradise, was a bittersweet moment. We cherished our morning hotcakes and bacon, coffee and skim session. And then we moved toward Papeete and Taina Marina.

Debby had to fly out, after her wondrous crossing of the Pacific. With her, we were treated to good conversation, great food, wonderful companionship with our fun crew member. She read every book we had on board, watched every DVD, stood every watch, made every pot of coffee. Saying farewell is never easy, and to see Debby off was one of the hardest things we had done on Sea Child.

Yet with every change, comes something new and exciting, and in our case, the arrival of Sandro D'Onofrio from Italy was an exciting change. He was on the original Sea Child test run, back in the Caribbean, when we test sailed from Trinidad to Grenada and St. Vincent. His arrival meant we were heading not only west, but also south, to the islands of Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea, Taaa and Bora Bora. On Thursday, we head to New Zealand, by way of Rarotonga. Our time in French Polynesia is winding down, and our preparations for the sail south are gearing up.

But first, we must acknowledge the pure beauty of French Polynesia. Moorea, with its vistas and snorkeling, inside the reefs and along the shoreline. The first huts above the water at the Hilton resort, then the Sofitel resort looking east to Tahiti. The views reminded us of Maui, the west side of Lahaina, so eery in their similarities. From Moorea we sailed overnight to Huahine, a true hidden beauty, the east end by far the most fantastic snorkeling we have found yet on this Great Adventure. Carter was able to skim behind the dinghy, making great photography with his tricks and speed across the water. We explored the coastline and motus, loosing ourselves in the turquoise blues of the lagoon. We snorkeled massive coral heads that kept going all across the channel, and swam in currents that appeared from over the reefs end. We visited the Te Tiare Resort in west Huahine, and smiled at Sandro doing the Tamure dance with the beautiful Tahitian dancers who pulled him out the audience. And we sailed away, heading east to Raiatea & Taaa, the two islands who share the same giant lagoon, racing the dinghy across from one island to the other in a challenge of strenght, to hold on in the waves the grew by the currents from the reef. Across we went, in search of gasoline, and had the workout of our lives, just hanging on as we jumped over the waves. Then it was the farewell again, of Taaa, where Richard, the bar owner at the Yacht Club asked us why we were leaving so soon? We just got there? Yet sailing to the other islands has become a mission for us, to see as much as we can in such a short period of time.

And Bora Bora, with a pod of dolphins guiding us to the channel in the reef, and a single, mountain giant looming above the island, surrounded by pristine motus. It's an eery feeling, being this far into French Polynesia, knowing that we are preparing to leave and head down to the cooler climate of New Zealand. For now, we enjoy today, we enjoy the views around us, the flavored rums, the vanilla, the friendly Tahitian natives, and try not to think so much about the future. We are living our Great Adventure now; and what a great adventure it truly is.

Bora Bora Yacht Club, Bora Bora, French Polynesia

16 degrees 29.48' South 151 degrees 45.62' West

Fakarava and the 4-day calm

After what seemed like an eternity on the ocean, we finally made our entrance into the passage at Fakarava Atoll, Tuamotus. The calm we went through was the most unusual ocean we have ever seen. The sunrises would wash the ocean in all colors of the rainbow, the morning clouds would appear as swirls in the water as they reflected off the flat, glass like surface. At one point, the water would appear to have drops of creamer swirling around and through the blue depths, greys and blues and greens. The water was no different from the sky, only reflecting back the sheer beauty of the southern ocean. This weather pattern captivated us for 4 days, the heat of the days though went through our souls, our bodies radiating the sun and our spirits seeking shade and cool. At one point, we stopped the boat to swim, we took snorkel gear and fins and swam quite a ways from Sea Child, taking pictures of her from the middle of literally nowhere. Now that is an eery feeling!

Entering the pass at Fakarava was a challenge to us. We arrived at the atoll before sunrise, but since Eric had never been here before, he wanted to wait until he could visually navigate the pass. The sheer depths outside the atoll could not be read on our fathometer, and inside the pass was around 15 meters. The marriage between the two created the roughest water we have seen yet on this Great Adventure. The steep peaks of ocean currents, pushing up as water rushed every which way, created not only swells that could be surfed, but also created a washing machine effect that appeared as steep white water, like a rushing current on the Colorado River. The eddys on either side of this current were as if a steam ship had just churned up the water, and the fatho would read 5 meters, even though we were in 15000 feet of water. It was a truly interesting phenomenon. And so was Fakarava.

Fakarava, as one of the largest atolls in the Tuamotus, is 35 miles long, 17 miles across, and about 1/2 mile wide. The interior of the atoll itself is just like you would image the south Pacific to appear, turquois blue water, white coral sand, lush green palm trees, white roads. All we needed to complete the picture of Fakarava was a cold Corona and a good ditigal camera (we did have the camera) to capture what could only be called paradise. The atoll is flat, our anchorage inside the atoll was next to a navigation marker that looked like an arrow pointing up to the sky, yet set on top of the most beautiful white coral head. The snorkeling around this coral head was spectacular, with clams the size of cantaloupes, edged with teal and cobalt and taupe. The colors of Fakarava, both underwater and on shore, were spectacular. Our visit was brief, not even 36 hours, as we need to be in Tahiti for Debby's departure on Friday. We all agreed, though, that Fakarava is a must return destination, to relax and explore and appreciate.

We are now 161 nautical miles from Papeete, Tahiti. The winds are still light, and we expect our landfall to be sometime Thursday morning after sunrise. Then the big clean up, transition, and reprovision will begin as we say farewell to Debby and Aloha to Sandro, who meets us on Sunday night. We expect our departure from Tahiti to be Monday or Tuesday next week.


CURRENT POSITION:

16 degrees 31 minutes SOUTH
146 degrees 59 minutes WEST

Scent of an Island

4000 miles and 4 weeks have passed since we left Panama City, on our Great Adventure across the South Pacific Ocean. The weather has been varied during this journey, from hot to cold, into the wind, reaching and flying downwind. We have eaten fabulous meals and read fantastic books. Our time on Sea Child has been just that, our time, and we are all very aware of how fast it is flying by. At 142 miles from the Marquesas islands, around 1:30am, the winds shifted out of the west, and we became aware of the smell of the approaching islands. Animals, like goats or boar, the musky smell of wild creatures and their presence on a remote island. After 14 days at sea, this change to our senses was pronounced; we were near our first French Polynesia destination.

Approaching Hiva Oa, we sailed through a minor cold front, with the sky darkening, outlining major distant squalls, the sky a dramatic silver at sunset. Our world on the sea is so simple, so beautiful, filled with sunshine and cobalt blue days, a billion stars at night, appreciating the beauty of the Pacific Ocean, after its left us in our wake. As we arrived in Hiva Oa, we sailed 3,070 miles from Galapagos, averaging 219 miles per day. Top boat speed on the crossing was 18 knots, spinnaker run, mostly out of control! Just focusing on keeping the massive blue, green & white sail full on a night watch took every ounce of focus we could muster. A degree or two off, the giant sail would collapse and wake the entire boat. We sailed with the spinnaker for 4 days straight, day and night, hand steering, racing towards the Marquesas. While the effort at focus was intense, we appreciated the great sailing that we were blessed to experience on our Galapagos to Marquesas crossing.

We arrived at Hiva Oa early Saturday, October 24, 2009. Coming into Taahuku Bay, we followed the range markers and navigation lights, dropping anchor at 2:00am. After a few celebratory beers, we all hit the sack for a few hours of much needed sleep. And awaking around 10:00am, we discovered the first strong wi-fi signal and internet access in over 2 weeks time. We anchored in the little bay about a mile from Atuona, the main town in Hiva Oa. Our mission across the open ocean was complete, and our exploration of French Polynesia was about to begin.

Hiva Oa, 9 degrees 48 minutes SOUTH, 139 degrees 02 minutes WEST.

Galapagos, Ecuador via the Open Ocean

880 miles turned into over a thousand, tacking, driving, feathering, and going to weather from Panama to the Galapagos Islands. At one point in our journey, we found that 44 minutes north of the equator would take us well over 12 hours, in cold winds, dressed in jackets and pants. We pounded into the sea, waves only at around 4-6'. The chill in the air was unexpected, night watches had us drinking coffee and bundled up, just to stand a 3 hour watch. Our spirits remained high, though, as the excitement was building. 6 days after leaving Panama City, we finally reached these incredible islands offshore, the Galapagos Islands of Ecuador.

Our crossing of the equator was anti-climatic, somewhere around 4:30am on Saturday, October 3, 2009. We went to weather, sailing at what seemed an eternally slow speed of 7.5 knots. And for Sea Child, this was slow. She is built to race down waves, reach across the ocean, and going to weather was painfully slow. Finally, after beating across the equatorial current (from south to north, at 1.5 knots), we arrived at Academy Bay, Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos, Ecuador. The sun had burned through the clouds, the winds backed off, and we were at anchor.

These magical islands astounded us, their landscape similar to Maui, where the coastal plain is arid and barren, the upper "highlands" with their greenbelt of vegetation beginning at about 1600' altitude. The journey across the sea had us dreaming of the marine life here at Galapagos, we all pictured Blue Footed Boobies and Giant Iguanas; silky Sea Lions and Lonesome George, the only remaining giant tortoise from the island of Pinta, all awaiting our arrival. Stunned by fatigue and natural beauty, we immediately immersed ourselves in all that Santa Cruz has to offer: Visits to the Charles Darwin Research Center, hikes to Tortuga Beach, and tours to outer islands, including Floreana and Isabella. Our visit to the Galapagos will last only 6 shorts days, as the Marquesas Islands awaits us, 2,700 miles away.

We expect to re-provision within a few days and we have already taken on the necessary extra fuel and washed piles of laundry. In the meantime, wandering around Santa Cruz, discovering the fabulous restaurants, shopping, and of course, the incredible wildlife that is the Galapagos, is a well earned respite from the sea. As we plan for our next leg, we enjoy today. These are the days that we will think back on in the future, over lemonade on the front porch. These are the islands we will treasure, with family and friends. This is the story we will tell, again and again. And the adventure continues.

Santa Cruz, Galapagos, Academy Bay, Puerto Ayora.

Latitude: 00°45' S Longitude: 90°19' W

Farewell Panama, Hello open ocean

Last night we were excited that our entire crew is now complete! We picked up Debby Baldwin at Tocumen Airport in Panama early last night, and after unpacking and a quick meal, we all were excited to bring on today! Debby was the first one up this morning, making pots of coffee and welcoming us all with her smiling face. The weather here in Panama remains warm, overcast, and muggy. Radios are being tested, weather forecasts are being analyzed, and we all are eager to begin our great adventure.

The "itinerary", if there is one, takes us from Panama to Taboga Island, a short 7 miles away. We will swim and search for wasabi in the local store, and then this afternoon, we will begin our watch system as we start our journey to the Galapagos Islands, 850 miles away. Our watch system will begin with 3 hours on, 6 hours off, with Eric & Carter holding their own watch, and Debby and myself sharing a watch. Debby came to Sea Child with a loaded ipod, so our music interests are covered. The stores are stocked, the water & fuel is topped off, and we are good to go. Our next big adventure is about to begin. Galapagos Islands should be about 5 days away.

Balboa Yacht Club, Panama City, Panama. 8 degrees 58 minutes N, 79 degrees, 32 minutes W.

Panama Canal Transit

Between drydock and transit, Sea Child sailed east to the San Blas Islands. Along the way, we visited Linton

Island, where the abandoned FSU Science Building was being taken over by the jungle as well as some wayward monkeys. We found that the further east we traveled from the Canal Zone, the better the weather became. The days were a little cooler, though just as humid, and the nights were filled with lightning storms and wind gusts. We had a short visit to San Blas, visiting the East Limon anchorage and the Swimming Pool. On our sail back toward Shelter Bay, we were hit by a white squall, where the winds blew over 40 knots, the rain fell like a giant waterfall from the sky, and Sea Child sailed along at over 15 knots on main alone.

Once back in Shelter Bay, we were joined by family members who came down to be our "line handlers". Our two day transit began when the pilot joined us around 3:00pm, and advised us on our route toward the Gatun Locks. The skies grew dark as we neared the locks, and as the gates of the lock closed behind us, we said goodbye to the Caribbean Sea, where Sea Child had sailed with us since January 2008. The farewell was bittersweet, as we were excited about our continuing journey towards New Zealand for the winter.

We reached Gatun Lake around 6:00pm, and after a wonderful dinner of meatloaf, potatoes and fine red wine, we settled for the night, alone in our anchorage. At dawn, we were excited about the upcoming crossing, and the weather greeted us with blue skies and warm temperatures. The crossing of Gatun Lake was magnificent! The lake snaked around, from north to south, east to west, every turn providing us with another close-up of the great freighters and tankers that passed us along our way. We sailed for just about an hour, but mostly found ourselves motoring across the great lake towards the Pacific Ocean. As we arrived in the last three locks, we were excited to see that we would pass through them as the only vessel, center tied, and shocked at our good fortune. As we passed through the Mira Flores Locks, we were cheered by a large group from the visitor center, and the currents of the Pacific Ocean pulled us this way and that as the last gate opened. We had made it to the Pacific Ocean.

The overnight transit of the Panama Canal has been a highlight of our journey so far. Sea Child currently sits at Balboa Yacht Club, Panama City, awaiting the next leg, which takes us from Panama to the Galapagos Islands and French Polynesia.

Balboa Yacht Club, Panama City, Panama. 8 degrees 58 minutes N, 79 degrees, 32 minutes W.

Preparing for the Panama Canal

Sea Child has covered over 1400 miles in the last 6 months of sailing around the Caribbean. We have shared some of the highlights of these miles in the blog posts, below, and now find ourselves back in Panama after 3 months back home to prepare ourselves for the next big leg of our journey. During our last visit to Panama, we collided with a large tree stump that was floating offshore of Rio Chagres, as we were sailing west to Bocas del Toro. This collision was abrupt, causing us concern over our starboard rudder and the integrity of its seals. We decided that hauling Sea Child out at Shelter Bay Marina at the Panama Canal was the best way to ensure that there are no problems as we prepare for our transit through the canal.

Panama in August is hot, humid and still. A breath of breeze is a blessing, as the afternoon convection build-up threatens to open the skies at any given moment. On the hard at Shelter Bay, Sea Child is getting her wiring inspected, refrigeration recharged, and SSB calibrated. Drydock will be fast, however, since the yard shuts down for 10 days at the end of August. Once we dropped the starboard rudder, we found that Sea Child is built sound and true, that the damage was negligible, and minor glass work would be needed to shore up a small crack in the leading edge of the rudder. Two days work, and we will be back in the water by the end of the week.

Today it takes 3 days at most to prepare everything to transit the canal. This is a sharp contrast to just a year ago, when the transit process included waiting 4-6 weeks for a position, once all the paperwork was completed. We feel fortunate that things have eased up a bit. When we were here in May, you could count well over 40 large freighters sitting off the Caribbean side of the canal awaiting transit. When we entered the zone this trip, we counted only 16 ships. Maybe the world economy is affecting the demand of canal use. In any case, we expect to transit in 2 weeks time.

Posted from the Melia Hotel, Colon, Panama Canal. Sea Child sits on the hard at Shelter Bay.

9 degrees, 20 minutes N, 79 degrees, 54 minutes W

SEA CHILD: Aruba to Cartagena, Colombia at 18 knots

By this point in her current journey, SEA CHILD has covered over 1000 sea miles in the Caribbean Sea.  She has been around the world, this being her 2^nd voyage. The sail to Colombia was a true testament as to the power of SEA CHILD.  Many sailors have tried to sail the route from Aruba to Cartagena, many have succeeded and many have turned back.  But SEA CHILD persevered, pushing onward into the timeless blue of the ocean, on this crossing, one of the most treacherous crossings on the planet.  This is her story. 

The sea knows no time.  There are no clocks at sea, no sense of the passage, no measurement of age.  The sun rises, the sun sets, the only sign that one watch has passed and another begins.  Throughout this basic system, the sea remains alive, swells rising and falling, passing passing and growing again.  The winds whisper across the tops of each swell, pushing white spray and salt.  The experience of this life force can only be realized by being a part of this motion, this push through the waves.  And SEA CHILD responds with beauty and grace.

The breeze continues to build, first 10 knots, then 15 knots, then 20, steady at 25 for hours.  The seas are flat and fast, SEA CHILD finds herself skirting along at a comfortable 15 knots with a single reef main and big jib hoisted.  Leaving the dust of Aruba behind, the sunset awaits the arrival of SEA CHILD, bringing along with it a visiting pod of dolphins.  The seas continue to build, first to 3’ then to 5’ and upwards they build.  The darkening sky shows no sign of moon, SEA CHILD last saw the man in the sky on her crossing to Bonaire one week ago. 

Safely, securely, SEA CHILD rides the waves and pushes downwind.  Her rigging sings at 16 knots, the breeze playing a harmony.  The ocean shows her personality, her attitude at the opportunity of playing with SEA CHILD.  Surf, slide, ride the waves, she beckons, calling SEA CHILD out and testing her wits.  The game continues, the ocean and the vessel, each with their own agenda.  Yet the ocean knows no time, no sense of urgency in her presence.  The ocean allows SEA CHILD to play on her terms, not those set by the vessel.  A true test of wits.

For two days SEA CHILD keeps her focus, playing a game with the sea.  She takes on the biggest wind, the giant swells, and continues to take her sailor-passengers, safely to the next port.  The ocean, sensing this challenge, continues to throw winds from the east, from the west, from the shore, from the lands past.  And still, SEA CHILD responds.  A wind shift, the jib goes to port.  Another shift, the jib goes to starboard.  No problem for the sailors who harness the power of SEA CHILD.  410 miles she sails, jibing back and forth to stay on course.    

It is said that no man can conquer the sea, that man is only a visitor at the whims of her power.  Arriving at Cartagena, Colombia, 42 hours later gives a sense of accomplishment to those aboard SEA CHILD.  The ocean continues to howl at night offshore from the Old Towne in Cartagena, calling out to those who listen to her song.  Alive, strong, powerful and tranquil, the ocean allows visitors, sometimes for great lengths of time and other times for short bursts.  A strong will, a good vessel.  SEA CHILD, all 56’ of her, is the right vessel for this test of courage.

The wind is the energy and the ocean is the life.  SEA CHILD plays upon the mood of the ocean, in this case, the Caribbean Sea.  She uses the winds to her advantage,  unleashing her power and attitude at the challenge this ocean brings.  Like the stallion that she is, SEA CHILD is well equipped for surfing the largest waves.  Surfers search the planet for the best waves, be they in Fiji, Turks & Caicos, or Panama.  SEA CHILD has the ability to surf those giants of the ocean, those waves who have traveled a great distance from foreign waters.  The steep, close waves of the Caribbean, those giants offshore Colombia.  Many sailors are intimidated by this ocean energy, amplified by the rising winds, but those aboard SEA CHILD remain confident.

SEA CHILD knows the power of these ocean giants, and responds to their force with speed and ability.   She sits now in Cartagena, Colombia, being polished and waxed.  Her spa treatment continues for two days, stainless bright in the sunlight, cabin top waxed to perfection.  She knows that tomorrow will bring another leg, another crossing to San Blas.  Another opportunity to play with the big boys, out on the open ocean of the Caribbean Sea.

 

ABC Islands to Cartagena, Colombia

Our time on Bonaire was delightful! The water was crystal cobalt blue, the clearest we´ve seen in all the Caribbean. We were able to enjoy our bikes on Bonaire, as well. Over the course of 2 days, we circled the island, and enjoyed everything from the salt pyramids & pale pink salt ponds on the eastern end of Bonaire to the flamingo refuge at Gotomeer on the west end. We rode past every dive site on Bonaire, and found incredible snorkeling as well. When we left the island after a 5 day stay, we stopped at Klein Bonaire, a flat, arid island just west. We found the best snorkeling there, a secluded mooring without a soul around. Bonaire was truly a highlight of our journey so far.

Sailing from Bonaire to Curacao was exciting as well. The winds in the ABC islands are breezy and steady. The crossing is less than 50 miles or so, and the winds did allow us to sail fast and surf the swells. Sea Child continues to impress us, with her ability to rise on the swell and slide down each wave effectively increasing our boat speed by several knots. We reached Spaans Harbor on Curacao well before sunset and found ourselves in a veritable cruisers haven!

We needed provisions and ice, as well as a good wash down after the time on Bonaire. While the islands are incredibly beautiful, the winds blow minute particles of dust across the decks and in no time did we have a build up of dirt. We were reminded of Maalaea Harbor on Maui, where our crew with Paragon needs to wash down the boats every day. This, too, is the way it is in the ABC islands. From Spaans Harbor, a local supermarket picks up cruisers every morning at 10:00 sharp. We were driven about 15 minutes to an inland center that had a very nice market along with a Budget Marine store. The perfect combination for every cruiser, and we took full advantage of our hour visit before the bus took us back to the harbor. Our time in Curacao was brief, however. Just the one day, enough time to provision and wash down, grab a bag of ice, and then onward to Aruba, 83 miles to the west.

Again, the seas were steady at 4-6´, winds easterly to 22, and skies clear. We were chasing a squall line for most of the sail to Aruba, enjoying the boat speeds that averaged well over 10 knots for the duration of the 8 hour crossing. Arriving into Aruba on a Sunday afternoon, however, was a pain. We were instructed by the port control to enter the Oranjestad Harbor at the cruise ship docks and to tie up alongside massive black tires. With just the two of us onboard and the wind gusts to 30, docking for immigration was a pain. There was not a soul around, so we waited for a few minutes until a friendly Atlantis Submarine worker came over to chat with us. The immigration officials arrived by car, taking our boat documents and passports with them as the two of us waited on Sea Child for clearance. When the process was finally completed, we moved over to the Renaissance Harbor in Oranjestad, a clean and friendly harbor that gave us a bit of a break from the steady high winds off shore.

Our visit to Aruba was very brief, less than 24 hours. We found Aruba to have beautiful water, but the island itself was dirty and the roads crowded. At least in Oranjestad, where we picked up hydraulic fluid for our autopilot. We were well provisioned for our sail to Columbia, 385 miles away.

Checking out of Aruba at 15:00, we began our journey due west, to start. The winds were steady at 25 knots, the seas were flat, then gradually started to build as we gained distance from Aruba. Our biggest gust of wind was well over 30 knots, and as the seas wrapped around the island, their direction was a bit confused. Dinner on our first night was treated by a visit of dolphins, a large group of bottlenose that played in our bow wake while we were sailing a steady 13 knots. As we neared the coastal islands of Venezuela, some 53 miles from Aruba, we were on a port tack broad reach with winds around 22 knots. Through channel 16 we were notified by the Venezuelan Coast Guard about the ´´danger danger danger´´ of the approaching small islands. There are about 3 islands, basically rocks with one coast guard outpost on them, in the Archipelago Los Monjes islands. We identified ourselves to the Venezuelans, jibed, and continued our sail to Cartagena.

Our total crossing to Cartagena was 410 miles travelled, as we needed to jibe several times for best winds. Sea Child sailed with the jib, screecher, and main in all combinations. Our 2nd night at sea saw winds increasing and the seas as well. Our largest swell, we estimate, was well over 20´and the winds averaged 15knots for the entire crossing. At times, the seas were so active that our watches had us hand-steering the entire time. And the closer we got to Cartagena, the more freighters and tankers we saw. In one 3 hour watch, we counted over 8 freighters on radar; twice we needed to divert our route to remain at a comfortable distance.

The crossing to Cartagena, while wild at times, saw Sea Child sail in exess of 16 knots on the main alone, hit 20 knots with the big screecher and main, and down to 4 knots as we neared the coast. We would jibe out to stay in fresh winds, and alot of wind it was. The crossing took us 42 hours, 2 night watches, and some mental strength. But we did it, arriving in Cartagena and making new friends at the Club Nautico Cartagena. Our adventure to San Blas, Panama begins in a few days time.

Cartagena, Colombia. Local Internet Cafe, pictures to be posted on next blog. 10°25' N, 75°33'W.

Sailing to Bonaire

We left the northern Caribbean island of Puerto Rico on Saturday, April 11, at 08:00.  The weather window was perfect for a 400 mile sail south; the winds were east to 15 knots, the seas 3-5’, the skies were clear.   All that was between us and Bonaire was the beautiful Caribbean Sea.

 

We headed around the eastern end of Puerto Rico, then set a course for 214 degrees.  This southerly course kept us on a reach/broad reach for the next 48 hours, until we saw the island of Bonaire at around 05:30 Monday morning. 

 

Some highlights of our sail south included a few wayward stowaways, i.e. flying fish, that found themselves on our decks Easter morning.  Also, we hoisted the big screecher on Saturday afternoon as the winds lightened up.  This lasted for about 4 hours until the tack blew.  We rolled out the jib and continued our route, averaging 8.5 knots for the first 24 hours.

 

Easter Sunday brought us a beautiful sunrise and more wind.  The winds picked up to around 17 knots, and with the screecher repaired, we continued our southerly sail and saw speeds of 16 knots.  As night fell, we enjoyed pupus at sunset, reflecting on just how fortunate we were to be able to sail Sea Child with just the two of us on this 2 day crossing.   At sunset on Easter, we were visited by a sperm whale, who popped up just on the starboard side, about 5 feet from the boat.  She blew, turned 180 degrees, and continued swimming to the east, behind us.  It was a joy to be so close to such a magnificent creature!

 

Around midnight, we decided to furl the screecher, since the winds were now steady at 18 knots true wind, on a broad reach.  With just the two of us on board, we set the autopilot on a course of around 250, downwind, to take the pressure off the big sail and enable us to roll her in.Within a few minutes, though, we realized that the sail did not roll uniformly, so we had to take the entire sail down and stow it away.  The moon lit the waters around us, and with us tied to Sea Child by way of harness, we were able to ease down the big sail, coil sheets, and stow away in around 25 minutes. 

 

We rolled out the jib and sailed an average again of 10 knots.  Our concern, if there was one, was that we would average 12 knots of boat speed and arrive at Bonaire before sunrise.  A daylight arrival is easier to navigate unknown waters; we averaged 10 knots and witnessed another beautiful sunrise.  This time, Bonaire was is our sights and just a few miles away.

 

Our watch system worked well for us, 3 hours on 3 hours off.  But instead of the 3 days we expected, we picked up a mooring in Kralendijk, Bonaire at 09:00 Monday, April 13.  The crossing had taken us 48 hours. 

 

The meals on board were amazing!  Saturday night we had Salmon with Quinoa Salad, Easter dinner was Grilled Chicken with Squash & roasted Sweet Potato.  And what an atmosphere!  We look forward to more sailing adventures, as we head west towards San Blas, Panama.

 Aboard Sea Child, Kralendijk, Bonaire, Dutch Antilles.  12 degrees, 9 minutes N Latitude; 68 degrees, 17 minutes W Longitude

Virgin Islands

Sea Child is currently on a mooring at Bitter End Yacht Club, British Virgin Islands. In the 2 ½ weeks we have been sailing her east, we have visited some of the most beautiful Caribbean island locations that we have ever seen. Our journey so far has taken us to the islands of Culebra, Culebrita and Luis Pena, all in Puerto Rico. The sailing between these islands was smooth, with the biggest winds gusts we had at 25 knots and almost no seas to speak of.

We had intended to join a race around the island of Culebra as part of the Heineken International Regatta, on Sunday March 22. However, there were no winds at all on Sunday, so instead, we headed to Luis Pena with our friends, Kiko & Francoise, and their daughter Monica and some college friends from Dartmouth, aboard their Lagoon 41, Aquatic. We spent the day at Luis Pena enjoying the water and the anchorage in general, as we were the only two boats there. Eric & Kiko even went lobster hunting and Kiko came back with two bugs that Francoise made into a delicious lobster salad. Our barbeque lunch aboard Aquatic was a spectacular farewell meal with our good friends, who sailed back to Fajardo that afternoon.

We decided to stay overnight at Luis Pena, since the waters were so very calm. This is the first deserted anchorage we came upon on our voyage, and decided to take advantage it!! Dinner on Sea Child consisted of steamed salmon, ship salad, and garlic bread. Topped off with a delicious wine and we were good for the night!

We made the decision on Monday to continue sailing Sea Child east, and headed for the island of St. John. The crossing was approximately 30 miles, and the sea conditions had picked up. The winds were 15 knots and the seas were 3-5’. Sea Child made the passage in good time, with boat speeds of around 10-11 knots. We pulled into Cruz Bay, St. John, at around 2:00pm and headed to the micro-brewery for some free wifi and cold beers. We continue to find that the wireless access in the Virgin Islands is spotty at best, so the free wifi where we can find it sometimes involves a purchase of something. Beer is better than other things we could think of!

From Cruz Bay, we headed to Rendezvous Bay in St. John, along the southern coast. As a national park, the entire island of St. John is serene and just beautiful. We were surprised at how crystal clear the waters were, and decided to just hang around St. John for a few days. During our stay there, we snorkeled Lameshure Bay extensively, covering the entire bay in two days. The coral and rock formations were outstanding; and since St. John has a no-anchoring law, the preservation of the sea life creates an underwater wonderland for us to enjoy.

Heading into the British Virgin Islands is a different story. Sea Child sailed from St. John to Tortola, BVI on a crystal clear day, winds to 12 knots and seas flat. We close reached up to Norman Islands and tacked close to shore to check out the anchorage. As is usually the case in the BVI, charter cats are everywhere. It was a fun day of sailing, as we would tack, reach across the Sir Francis Drake Channel, and sail fast past motorsailing catamarans. Sea Child averaged 9 knots on this crossing, and as Eric likes to say, “who says cat’s can’t go to weather?” We arrived in Road Harbour, Tortola to check into the country and enjoy a short overnight visit.

The next morning, Sea Child sailed up to Maya Cove where we met up with Phil Berman, of the Multihull Company. And he in turn introduced us to some wonderful friends, Hank & Seale George, who are cruising their Tayana 52’, North Star, from Virginia to Trinidad & back. We found their sea stories amusing and helpful, and they found Sea Child to be the beautiful ship we know her to be!

From Maya we sailed on to Marina Cay, a favorite little anchorage just west of Beef Island. We lunched at the Pussers Company Restaurant, and watched the boats sail as we made our next plans. We decided to sail up towards Bitter End, Virgin Gorda. We set sail after lunch and saw winds increasing a bit, up to 20 knots and again with flat seas. We sailed across the sound to check out the Baths, then across to the Dog Islands, sailing at 10 knots across the sound. Our final tack had us heading straight toward Mountain Point, and we spotted Long Bay, a deserted anchorage just inside the lee of the point. There was one other catamaran there, so we decided to drop anchor and hang there for the night. The sunset over the Dog Islands was spectacular, and we continue to remind ourselves of our good fortune to be able to travel on Sea Child like this.

Today, we sail north to Anegada Island, the “drowned island”. This coral & limestone island at its highest point is 28’ above sea level. The island is 11 miles long, flat, and has some of the best snorkeling in all of the Caribbean. The sail there will take us on a course of 5 degrees, due to the 1-2 knot westerly set. We expect to be at Anegada for a late lunch, and possibly a few more days.

This really is the good life, the life of traveling by sea.

Aboard Sea Child, 18 degrees 30 minutes north, 64 degrees 22 minutes west

Sailing the edge of the sea

Sunny skies, winds easterly to 12 knots with an occasional gust from the south. Sea Child is sailing from the main island of Puerto Rico to the east and the island of Culebra. Our friends, Kiko & Francoise, told us about a regatta this weekend in Culebra, so we decided why not?? Culebra is located between St. Thomas and Puerto Rico proper. From the charts it appears to have sweeping deserted beaches and an abundance of coral reefs.

We expect our sail from Cayo Lobos to Culebra to take us about two hours. However, the winds have shifted out of the south, which has us tacking across the union of the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea. Sailing at 9 knots, though, who can complain?? Once we get proper Internet access we will post more photos. Stay tuned.

Aboard Sea Child, 18 degrees, 16 minutes north, 65 degrees 29 minutes west, via IPhone.

The Journey Continues

Sea Child has now covered a distance of over 800 miles on her first leg of our world cruise.  She is now in San Juan, Puerto Rico, awaiting our return.  We have sailed her from Chagauramas, Trinidad through the Southern Caribbean north, via Grenada, St. Vincent, St. Lucia, Martinique, Dominica, Guadaloupe, Antigua, St. Maarten, BVI's, and USVI.  We now have 9 weeks total sailing time.  

Our preparations for the next leg include research & acquisition of an Iridium phone, Weatherfax, and hopefully some type of air conditioning system.  Travel guides have been studied for areas of Venezuela, Bonnaire, and Panama.  We may include a stop into Columbia; we're not sure just yet.  

We land in San Juan on March 11, 2009.  Our journey continues.