I woke up with the sun around 6am with anticipation of the sail back across to Bequia this morning. I was up early because I wanted to have the boat ready to go before Dexter arrived. As I prepared to step off the boat onto the dock, I timed my exit from the boat and hopped off when the gap was comfortably close, then went ashore to take a shower. Afterward I topped both freshwater tanks off again with the hose on the dock, then hopped off again to return the hose and hung my towel on the lifelines to dry. After reheating my coffee I climbed up into the cockpit, opened the port lazerette and turned off the propane switch at the base of the tank. Last night I had tried to repair the propane vent hose which had slipped off the tank, but the hose is so worn I'm doubtful that it will hold. As I hopped onto the dock again to get my last bag of ice from TMM for the fridge, I ran into Dexter as he headed toward SJ and we chatted for a few minutes about our departure time.
By the time I returned with the large bag of ice for the fridge, Marlin, Dexter and Bob were all busy aboard SJ making preparations to get the dinghy ready for the trip across (removing the outboard engine and attaching it to the wooden mount on our stern rail that we had installed for this purpose). Marlin pumped up the dinghy since she had lost some air overnight and tied down the gasoline tank to keep it secure for the waves in the Bequia Channel. Just before we departed I
closed all the top hatches and the seacocks for the trip. Seacocks are the thru-hulls in the boat used to bring water into or out of the boat so it's good to close them as a safety measure just in case one of them leaks or breaks loos. We have 4 seacocks in the head (bathroom), 2 in the galley (kitchen), and 1 in the front cabin.As I was closing the blind on the forward main hatch to keep the sun out and the cabin cool, the blind caught and as I tugged harder the entire blind popped out into my hand. Oops. Upon investigation I discovered a couple of the screws had gradually stripped out and it was just a matter of time before it let go, so just another one of those “age related” issues showing up now. I tried duct tape (sailor’s secret weapon) but there was not a good surface to stick it to, so I simply put the blind aside until later. The blind is not a necessity of course, but it does help keep the heat down in the fore cabin. Looks like blind repair will be added to my list of projects for the next few weeks.
Chart used for navigation between St. Vincent (top) and Bequia (bottom).By 8:30am we were ready to head out, so Dexter manned the wheel and asked me to go forward and release the bow line – it’s a line attached to a mooring tackle, so I untied the line, slipped it out of the chocks and dropped the heavy blue line into the water, ensuring that it sank completely to be clear of the propeller as we pulled forward. Marlin and another dock hand released the stern lines and Dexter motored us away from the dock and toward the red and green markers marking the break in the reef which is the narrow entrance/exit to the harbor.
After passing the reef and getting more into open water, we let out the dinghy painter to better position her for the trip across, and then Dexter manned the helm while I raised the sails. I followed his excellent directions to release the main sheet and crank out the main with a wench handle, then I released the jib in haul and cranked out the jib. [Oops, Tim noted wench with an "e" is a bit different than winch with an "i" -- Freudian slip perhaps?] We kept a reef in both sails because the skies indicated squalls coming, and he left a bit of “bag” in the mainsail so the gusts could spill out above the boom and keep our heel more manageable. The winds were 20-25 knots with gusts up to 30, the seas rolled in around 8-10 feet and the occasional rain squall -- pretty typical for the Bequia Channel. The crossing took about two hours, and as we neared Bequia there were a few times when we surfed off a wave just as a lift pushed us ahead, causing the hull to shake a bit. I asked Dexter about this and he commented that was the boat picking up speed to about 9 knots (really fast for this boat) – I gather when a boat reaches max+ hull speed that vibration is common. I didn’t know our boat was able to make 9 knots. Cool.
The seas increased and became more to our stern as we neared the headland of Bequia that we round to enter the harbor (called Devil’s Table). The entrance was a bit lumpy with the waves pushing us from side to side, and we met a fishing boat coming out that crossed our bow fairly close as they also slopped around in the chop. Once past them we rounded the marker indicating the edge of the reef off the headland and then headed across the harbor toward the beaches on the south shore. The colored houses and other buildings of Port Elizabeth could be seen now to our port beam.
We approached Princess Margaret’s Beach and motored around a bit to check out available spots, then motored in closer toward town to check that out as well. Holding is better on the south side of the harbor than the north side so we didn’t consider the other side. The anchorage was a bit more crowded closer to town, so we turned around and motored back along the palm-tree studded shore until we passed the headland marking the beginning of Princess Margaret Beach. There were already a few boats tucked in behind the headland, so we stayed out a bit farther and I dropped the hook when Dexter indicated in about 18 feet of water. We let out about 80 feet of anchor chain at first (1 to 4 scope, based on our depth of 18 feet), then used the engine to back down to set the hook, then let out another 20 feet or so and backed it down again to test our hold (scope now 5 to 1). Dexter added the snubber to take the pressure off the windlass, which gave us another 5-10 feet of scope, and we discussed me adding another 10-15 feet later if that felt more comfortable. I did later in the day so I believe I have about 110-120 feet of chain out (about 6 to 1 or more). As an extra safety measure I swam over the anchor to visually inspect the hook and although she was in the vicinity of a rocky patch, she seemed to be well placed in the sand, hook set square (not tilted), and most of the fluke’s covered (only the top tips showing). I swam over the hook a second time after letting out more scope, and more chain appeared to lay on the ground so I felt it was a good setup.
Once we were hooked, while Dexter prepared the dinghy for re-installing the outboard engine on the transom, I went below to open sea cocks and hatches and just generally prepare the below area for regular use. I noticed we had wet carpet again in the forward cabin on the starboard side, so I asked Dexter to take a look and he noticed the area inside the cabinet under the sink was wet. We’ve been noticing we were taking on water when we make that crossing but had not as yet been able to diagnose where it was coming from. We had originally thought perhaps the freshwater system was leaking up there, but that had been fixed and Dexter noticed the briny smell which meant it was seawater. I’ll try to remember when we take the boat back to Bequia to check under the cabinet while we’re under way and see if we can spot where the water comes in from.
Leaning palm on Princess Margaret Beach looking west toward outer harborI offered Dexter a Caribe beer while we watched our swing for a bit, and then he hoisted the engine (alone and by hand) off the engine mount and manually carried the heavy engine off the swim steps, hoisted it across into the dinghy alone and then installed in on the transom of the dinghy. Strong guy. Remember that he’s doing all this on a boat that’s rocking back and forth and swinging in a stiff breeze (not to mention the wind at his back). These guys amaze me every day by how easy they make it all look. Once the dinghy was prepared I motored Dexter across the harbor to the north shore where the chandleries were located so he could pick up some supplies for TMM before catching the 1pm ferry back to SV. I had left the boat unlocked and didn’t really have anything to go into town for anyway, so I just motored back to the boat and settled in for the day. It was around noon and I was ready for a relaxing day on board, just getting used to being on the boat alone.
Once back on board and with the scope adjusted, I settled on the comfy blue chair under the shade of the bimini to enjoy the breeze which was quite strong sometimes, and I continued to watch the swing and noted my overall positioning with other boats. Being aware of where SJ sits among landmarks and other boats will come in handy later when I make anchor checks during the night to ensure the anchor is not slipping. As I went below I noticed I had a couple of missed calls – I think one may have been Tim and I knew he’d call back, but the other number was local so I called it to see who had called me. It was Marianne from the Sunshine School board calling to thank me for my help on Sunday during the
auction and inviting me to attend the book jumble meeting tomorrow (Wed). I was pleased to accept and we made plans for dinner together afterward.I spent the rest of the day just relaxing on the boat and writing in this log, entering bills in our spreadsheet while I have charge left in my computer (I must go ashore to recharge it), watching the other boats arrive in the harbor and the usual local water taxis ferrying people back and forth, and just enjoying the day and being in Bequia. Tim called as I was re-installing the privacy panels after our trip across and we chatted for a few moments before we each needed to get back to work. Later I prepared a light dinner on board of sauteed conch samosas with leftover rice/beans and tomatoes -- all heated in one saucepan which reduces water for dish washing later.
It’s about 8pm and it’s been dark a while now and I’m starting my first night alone on the boat at anchor. The winds are howling again, but not as constant as when we were here earlier in the week so it doesn’t seem quite as relentless. But it does howl sometimes. I can’t deny that I am not completely relaxed, but I don’t actually feel very tense or anxious either -- just the usual caution when I’m at anchor, with perhaps a bit more so since I know I’m it if the anchor drags or something else comes up. I do feel a bit lonely though, which I don’t think I expected. I don’t typically miss the TV when sailing, but being alone with only the radio and a couple of CD’s is pretty quiet. Sailors are apt to be somewhat more solitary people who are comfortable with their own company, and that probably fits me pretty well. It will be interesting to see how this plays out over time, including whether I enjoy it and once I go home - if I want to do it again sometime. As they say, time will tell.
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