from Puerto Rico

It feels like most of our sailing is upwind.  Tacking back and forth, gaining our goal indirectly and sailing 60 miles to make 40.  Seems like a metaphor in itself.  What could feel insulting is to sail upwind and turn around only to have the wind shift and sail upwind some more.  “Out of synch.”  But our departure from Caicos felt in synch.  We went back west the way we came, to round the northwest tip of the island.  The wind held, what had been beating before was now a romping good reach.  In other words, sailing across the wind direction and straight toward where we want to go, trimming the sails at the start and not again.  To be appreciated, in sailing and in living life.  We tore along in the lee of the island, so we were in deep and flat water with plenty of wind, and going over 8 knots at times.  “8 knots?” a land person asks.  “That’s only 9 mph.  What’s the big deal?”  Well, it’s the most exciting and rewarding 9 mph you’ll ever do.  We made it around the corner and thru the Sandbore Channel (where we briefly had the wind behind us and set the drifter) in short order and anchored off Provo. 

Whereupon we met Provo Radar.  The Caicos version of the Coast Guard.  They monitor all traffic to and from Provo and across the Caicos Bank.  If you don’t report to them?  God only knows what will happen.  When they see you on their radar, they pursue you over the VHF radio.  We had been forewarned about them by a British couple aboard their boat.    So i hailed them before they hailed Akimbo.  The ensuing dialog was laughable, made all the moreso by the completely humorless attitude of the official at the other end of the microphone.  He required a complete description of our boat, our equipment, every person aboard, where we had come from , where we were going, and when…  I didn’t dare give the sarcastic answers the situation begged for.  Almost told him what kind of toothpaste we use.  And i promised to radio in the morning to tell when we weighed anchor and were off.

There’s something exciting about sailing in crystal clear and shallow water, watching the sand and coral bottom go by.  Is there some metaphor there about human nature preferring the shallows to the depths?  The known to the unknown?  The visible to the invisible?  After a windy night at anchor, we appreciated our luck to tear across all 44 miles of the Bank on a close reach for a 7 knot average to Six Hills Cay.  Anchored by ourselves in 10’ of pristine water, we snorkeled until what seemed an aggressive barracuda convinced Kristin that this was not her territory.  The cay is obviously a popular roost for a lot of birds.  After dark it got noisy.  Our imaginations decided that what we were hearing was not birds at all but a few thousand small dogs all chewing on their squeaky toys. 

Next day we were beating our way to Grand Turk against 20 knots and building seas.  It was a fitting preview of what to expect on our way to Puerto Rico.  We anchored, pumped up Sea Cow, hired a cab to get to a restaurant and back, and located the customs office for checking out of the country in the morning.  We seem to be having trouble convincing people, when we ask for a restaurant recommendation, that we want local food as opposed to tourist or American food.  And we find that fare in island countries is expensive, likely because of the expense that importing adds to everything. 

In the morning we got our departure paper from customs.  But we cheated.  We sailed 15nm south to anchor at uninhabited Big Sand Cay.  Went exploring – found the fallen down lighthouse, did some shelling, played in the safe part of the surf (at one corner of the island, swell from two different directions met and prompted me to ask Tyler and Reed to jump in elsewhere) and rested up for the 300nm ahead.  The forecast was for winds against us, but at least for stable conditions. 

Unwittingly this leg turned out to be well choreographed.  By the time we faced this passage, Tyler, Reed and Kristin were familiar with Akimbo and keeping watch, having already done a few night passages.  We were as ready as we could be.  Make no mistake, passage making is an athletic and tiring event.  The main goal is to keep the boat sailing and to hold on so you don’t get thrown across the cabin or cockpit and hurt.  In the meantime, eat when and what you can, stay hydrated and SLEEP if possible.  It was all upwind in medium size swell, so we sailed 400 miles to make 300, and were done in three days.  The jury rigged backstay held. 

The guidebook warned of poor holding ground and exposure in the bay where we had to check into customs.   Per the guidebook and by pure luck, we got into the bay at 8am but by the time we followed the mis-leading sign on the dock and finally got some help from the security guard at the port and over the phone customs told us to come back at 1pm…and got directed to a Puerto Rican version of KFC (“Pollo Tropical”) and refused to eat there…i was downright adversarial with the customs officer.  Finally when i asked for his name and the name of his supervisor, and then argued with the supervisor about having to row back out to bring my crew aboard AGAIN, the unsafe anchorage, trying to get to Boqueron before dark…we finally got out of there at 3:30pm.  Sorry, i guess i could have spared telling you about that. 

The 15nm sail to Boqueron was a delight.  The holding ground was good and the anchorage calm and protected.  We were there on the weekend and so were all of Puerto Rico’s partiers.  At dinner, Reed conquered a “man versus food” meal and we enjoyed the local color.  But by the time crew #4 arrived the place was a “ghost town.”  The seven of us enjoyed dinner together and the next morning Reed and Tyler caught a 4am ride to San Juan. 

Thank you Reed and Tyler and Kristin!  We did well together, worked hard, ate well, had fun for 740nm.  So where does that leave Akimbo?  We’ve covered 1200 miles in 6 weeks.  I’ve budgeted 9 weeks for the next 1200.  And then 4 weeks for the 700 to the Canal.

The guidebooks advise that to make one’s way AGAINST the relentless tradewinds we should get a crack of dawn start every day and drop anchor by early afternoon.  Tyler’s and Reed’s ridiculously early start set me and my new crew (with veteran and newly captain licensed Kristin to help out) for exactly that.  With a mechanic to meet in Ponce, we had a 43 mile push to make.  And as advised were beating against 20 solid knots of wind and 6 foot seas by the end of the day, which turned out to be 3pm. 

“A mechanic to meet?”  Putting Akimbo’s equipment thru its paces…weak links have shown themselves.  As they’ve been revealed i’ve e-mailed my father and he has contacted the manufacturers and pursued service sources.  He has become my “shore crew”…but then hasn’t he always been that and more.  Thank you, Bud!  The gem from your help is the watermaker’s serviceman in Ponce, Puerto Rico, Luis Santos.  The watermaker is now back up to speed, the generator is back on line and tomorrow…we’ll rebuild the backstay hydraulic rams.  Whew!

The amenities of the marina are a real treat – laundry, internet, showers, pool, restaurant – but it’ll be nice to get underway and anchor in pretty places again.