Bequia to Bonaire

I finished this trip with a fiancé!

Leaving Bequia early in the morning we were excited to be commencing our longest sail yet. Wanting to avoid the piracy areas off the coast of Venezuela, I had plotted a route that took us from Bequia, keeping along the 13^th parallel 100 miles off the coast of Venezuela and then dropping back down again after we had cleared Blanquilla to Los Roques – our first landfall. We estimated this would take us 3 /4 days depending on our average speed as we had yet to do a passage totally down wind…we were also yet to find a spinnaker pole to pole out the gib.

A most uneventful 3 days of sailing, we caught no fish and we saw no boats. We had taken some precautions should we come across a stray pirate but there was nothing to be seen.

On our fourth morning at sea as the sun was creeping above the horizon, Dylan was on watch with the gib decreased to a handkerchief, trying to slow us down so we could enter the reefs surrounding the Los Roques islands in good light. So excited to get to Los Roques, Dylan helmed for most of the morning, day dreaming of all the fish he was going to find and spear whilst I snoozed down below. As we approached the land mass, there were no other masts in sight so we were spoilt for choice on where to anchor. Navigating through the archipelago, a pod of 15 dolphins came to say hi, nattering away to me as they surfed the bow waves. I must admit I was teary eyed, such a treat to see so many so close to our boat.

Bequeve

We chose to anchor in 9ft water near Bequeve. I was on the bow flapping my arms around as I guided Dylan in and out of the corals below. Huge pelicans eyeballed us as we approached their territory and dared to interrupt their morning dip. As with all remote places in the Caribbean, the water was beautiful and the island we had anchored off presented us with a gorgeous white sandy beach to explore. Unfortunately the lack of fish during this trip continued, as we swam ashore there were none to be seen. We had read an article recently on how this group of islands have been fished out and we tend to agree! Swimming ashore to explore, we had seen what looked like a mast about half a mile along the beach on the windward side so we started off towards that. At times the beach disappeared and gave way to rocks that we walked across, turned out the mast was a big stick! Luckily we brought shoes with us as the island was home to prickly burs. We walked to the windward side where it was a beach combers delight. I spent ages picking through the debris whilst Dylan route marched ahead. Nothing much of interest, just a ton of plastic washed up. Some decent shells on the shore but with the sun so hot, we cut it short and swam back to the boat.

Whilst anchored in this spot we were very aware that we hadn’t cleared into the mainland so were chancing it with the Venezuelan coastguard. Through extensive research and speaking to other yachties that had done the trip, we decided not to venture anywhere nearer the coastguard station on Grand Roques, sticking to the West Cay group of islands shown in the Doyle Guide. During the afternoon of the first day and towards sunset, rather a lot of fishing boats zoomed past, most unfriendly and made us feel uncomfortable. Without the necessary paperwork, all alone with no buddy boat and no fish to snorkel with; despite ashore being lovely, we decided to commence the 30 mile sail West to Las Aves the next day.

Looking out to the reef on Isla Sur

Running all the way with little wind and a sizeable swell, we rolled our way towards the next island group. Dylan poled out the gib on the boom to stop it flogging so much every time we did a violent roll. We got to Isla Sur (part of Ave de Barlovento) after midday and navigated easily between the reefs to a bay with 3 other boats. Quite a surprise as we weren't expecting company. Anchored opposite mangroves with hundreds of boobies and frigates squawking in the sky we marvelled at the sea even clearer than the previous island. Isla Sur is covered in mangroves and not that appealing to go ashore competing with the thousands of birds and mosquitoes so we stuck to the water. The snorkelling on nearby reefs was great for looking at coral but the fish weren’t of an acceptable size for Dylan to spear. With no hurricane damage on this island the coral was thriving, if only I could have captured the colour and sizes we saw, quite amazing. Brain corals 8ft tall and little octopus waving their tentacles at us, daring us to come nearer to their hidey holes.

With still no fish to dine on I made Dylan an unforgettable meal – rice, beans and spam. We bought this tinned meat /dog food (!) back in Puerto Rico and I had threatened to use it multiple times when we ran out of fish and meat. Now was the perfect time to bring it out of the cupboard and hide it amongst a heavily seasoned pile of rice. God it was awful!

Waking on the second day at Isla Sur we found that we were alone in paradise. The squawking of the birds awoke us from our slumber and just as we were thinking life really couldn’t get any better…the head blocked! We had sailed for 10 months without this inevitable chore happening to us so it was only a matter of time. All I’m going to say on this topic is, thank goodness I bought a 100 pack of silicone gloves just before we left Grenada!

Barry the Giant Barracuda

Not wanting to push our luck with the Venezuelan coastguard we were hiding from, we continued to Ave de Sotovento. Although only a 15 mile trip, it took most of the day as we only had 4 kts of wind and a big swell on the beam. However, we caught our first fish of the passage, a giant barracuda we called Barry. Our biggest catch to date and Dylan enjoyed a good fight with Baz whilst I depowered the boat.

We arrived at the islands a little before 4 and decided to anchor off Curricai /Long Island. I think I have probably said in a few posts now ‘the best beach so far’ but everything is relative right? Well this place is now the best beach /island /waters /snorkelling /place I have ever been to! Dylan agrees. I shall let the picture I took from our bow do the rest of the talking:



Curricai

Despite the vile sailing that day, we raced to don our swimming things and jumped into the water with our masks and dry bag. The visibility here was just unbelievable, at 300ft approaching the anchorage the water was bright blue, at 40ft you could see the bottom and at 10ft where we were anchored you could make out the marks of a crab trail on the sandy ocean floor.

Adding to my shell collection

Circumnavigating the small island we did another beach combing mission. Dylan found a plastic sheep which must be a sign as I headed back to Wales the next week. On the north side of the island we had our first conversation in Spanish with some fishermen that had come ashore to sleep in their shack and tents. It went like this -

o        Sally: Hola!

o        Fisherman: Hola, [+ something I'm yet to learn on my rosetta stone]

o        Sally: [slightly perplexed] sorry, what was that?

o        Fisherman: [thinking how he can simplify for me] Good?

o        Sally: Aaaah bueno bueno!

And may that be the first of many ‘spanglish’ conversations! As we rounded the tip of the island to head back to our dry bag we left, we spot the coastguard approaching the island. O no! Typical, the hour we arrive we bump into the coastguard yet blog posts we have read say they don’t visit this island for weeks at a time. Keen to start off on the right foot (bearing in mind we have none of the right paperwork having not cleared into Venezuelan mainland) Dylan went to speak to them to ask if they wanted some of Barry the cuda. Sure they say, we shall stop by your boat anyway as we need to check your paperwork…doh!

Curricai

Swimming back to the boat we admit defeat and are expecting a fine or being shooed away that minute to Bonaire. Having a rule about entering a strange port at night we really didn't want to do that. About an hour later the coastguard show up. 4 young guys, 2 stay in their boat and 2 others come aboard. Dylan, getting his priorities straight asks them if they want agua, cevesa or 'juice'. Beers handed to them all the main guy then asks if we can conduct the conversation in English as he is trying to improve. No! The one chance we get to try out our (weak) Spanish skills we are asked to speak in our own tongue. Wanting to keep on the right side of these guys, we keep our poor Spanish annunciation to ourselves. Cutting to the chase, Dylan asks for 2 nights stay and we brace ourselves for the consequences...none come. The guy says 'sure' and the fills out the paperwork. Digging out the EPIRB, fire extinguishers, flares, first aid kit, lifejackets etc so that they can note how many we have (if any) of each. There is only one guy who can speak English – Charlie. Poor Charlie has been on the island without any communication to the outside world for 50 days now, with 15 days left. The coastguard are dropped on the island for 2 months at the time before they rotate. Paperwork completed, we give them the majority of Barry and they wave us off, whilst the other guys wave us farewell whilst saying 'hello'. O that did make me giggle. No money exchanged, no fuss and Charlie ensuring we call him on VHF16 if we need any help! By far the nicest officials we have come across so far and certainly not what we were expecting. We were then able to relax for 2 days before we headed off to Bonaire.

Friday 5^th October, a day that I shall always remember. We had a lazy morning and then took the dinghy all the way to an outside reef near a wrecked container ship, about 3 miles away and a very bumpy journey. We snorkelled on a few spots and the sealife was INCREDIBLE. We saw 3 huge parrotfish about 3 ft long and almost as wide. They looked like something from the prehistoric era! Also loads of big squid and a few eagle rays. Listen to me now so nonchalant about seeing an eagle ray! In reality I still get very excited and flap my arms and legs about trying to get Dylan’s attention so he too can witness the sight in front of me.

Just before he proposed

Making our way back to the boat via other coral spots to snorkel in we ate the bread rolls I had baked with an entree of lobbie that Dylan had caught on the reef. Fed and watered we lazed around for a few hours then packed a bag and went ashore for sunset drinks. As we watched the sunset, Dylan proposed J I shan’t go into the details as I think Dylan did an excellent job in the previous blog post, suffice to say it was an absolutely perfect setting and I honestly didn’t see it coming – don’t roll you eyes, I truly didn’t! Dylan had managed to hide the ring from my hawk eyes for over a year, I was most impressed.

Back to reality once he had proposed and we both had a good blub, Dylan happened to glance to the left and saw our dinghy about to float away as the tide was coming in. Breaking the spell Dylan sets off at a run to rescue it then we pile in and head back to Orion as we had planned to leave at midnight for Bonaire. De-rigging the dinghy we were treated to a fantastic light show of phosphorescence around us. I reckon it was Mother Nature’s way of saying congratulations.

Las Aves to Bonaire took us 11 hours. As I was dozing (was impossible to sleep given the news!) Dylan called me to the bow and I was greeted by 5 dolphins playing in the spray. Then as we neared the South of Bonaire, 3 bright pink flamingos flew past. With the turquoise waters and bright white salt dunes, the intense colours combined with the bright pink birds made me feel like I had just stepped into a Disney movie! That or my already overwhelmed senses from the previous evening were working overtime.

South Bonaire shoreline with the salt dunes

Its here where my fiancé (swoon) and I part for 3 weeks. I’m off to the UK to see family and friends whilst working through a looong to do list whilst Dylan welcomes 3 of his South African friends aboard Orion.

A pressing engagement

It is rare to find a woman who is willing to pause a successful career for an indefinite amount of time to sail off into the sunset.
On paper it all sounds very romantic. It is probably the dream of many. Reality is something rather different. Sharing the same 20 cubic metres of space with someone 24 hours a day, 7 days a week you get to know them intimately. "Privacy" is something one has to look up in a dictionary. Clothes are washed in a bucket and always seem stiff with salt. Dishes are washed in salt water and always taste of salt. Bodies are washed in salt water and always...taste like salt. Little petty things like squeezing the toothpaste from the bottom, become really big issues for no apparent reason.

Your partner with whom you have to interact with on a daily basis has to pick up a bevy of roles that they may not be overly familiar with. First mate, watch keeper, cook, cleaner, assistant mechanic, chief navigator, doctor, nurse, psychiatrist, seamstress, girlfriend and best friend.

Few women our age wanted to give up hot showers, make up, nice clothes, manicures, pedicures and a steady income to become a sea gypsy. Great as a 1 week charter. 2 at the most.

Sally and I have been on Orion for just on 10 months. We have been to over 18 countries met wonderful people along the way and experienced all of this together as as a team. Very few things have we done apart. We succeed or fail together. And one of our silly little sayings is "Always togethers".

Her ability to keep smiling in the face of trying conditions is testimony to our approach of - the difference between adversity and adventure is attitude.

We were anchored off a tiny deserted island in the Las Aves. The water a shimmering turquoise, the beach sand a brilliant white. The sky had never seemed quite so blue. A few stumpy palm trees provided a splash of green in an otherwise blue pallet.

We sat on the beach watching the sun perform its usual afternoon ritual. A glass of nicely chilled fruity wine adding taste to the already overwhelmed set of senses.
I casually picked up a clam shell from the beach. 
"Every one of these shells has a perfect match to it. Each has a identical side that completes it no matter how imperfect the shell may be. It is very difficult to walk along this beach and find a shell that could match this shell and complete it. When you do it is quite rare."
I was reaching into my pocket for a shell I had found previously. This was a pretty little clam shell with both halves carefully glued closed so that it looked like a clam straight from the sea.

"Open it."
With a hint of suspicion Sally carefully opened the shell to find her engagement ring winking back at her in the waning light. 

"Sally Newton, will you marry me?" 

Overcome with confusion, emotion, surprise and a number of other girly things, the eyes welled up and a overwhelming "Yes" tumbled from her mouth. 

I slipped the ring onto her finger and so began a new chapter in our lives. 2012 has been an amazing year full of firsts. This for me has to have been the most important. Sally Newton had decided to be my wife.

When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

For me this had been a very long build up. The ring had been sourced in the UK over a year ago, before we left. 
In the old school manner of these things, prior to us leaving the UK, Mr Newton was asked if he would like me as a son in law. With his blessing began the lengthy wait to find just the right moment to pop the question.
I practiced the speech in my head over and over and over. It still did not come out 100% right in the moment. Life is not like the movies, but the she got the picture.

I dreamed of a wedding of elaborate elegance,
A church filled with family and friends.
I asked him what kind of a wedding he wished for,
He said one that would make me his wife. 

- Unknown  Author

Preparing Orion for a long passage

We often get met with raised eyebrows when we tell our friends and family back home how long it takes to do chores on Orion. No we have not turned into sloths, things just take so much longer on a boat! A big food shop for example can take up to a full day depending on how far away the store is compared to an hour or so on land. Before we commenced our sail from Bequia to Bonaire via the offshore Venezuelan islands, we ensured we were at anchor for 24 hours to complete our usual chore list. Being able to check off every item gives us confidence that the passage will be that much more comfortable with the only variables being provided by Mother Nature. Which are enough to handle in itself!

Below I have typed out the list we use split by Dylan and Sally tasks:

Dylan:
- Fill water tanks and jerry cans
- Fill diesel and gas jerry cans
- Put jack lines on
- Perform any sail repairs to mainsail, checking for any chafe 
- Tape up the dorade vent on bow (prevent water getting into chain locker)
- Engine checks
- Set up the wind vane

Sally:
- Make snacks to eat underway and first night's meal (usually done in pressure cooker)
- Stow away anything that may fall when heeled over
- Get any last minute provisions for trip
- Hide valuables
- Make up a ditch bag
- Close all seacocks
- Get out the relevant charts and key in waypoints into GPS

Both:
- Ensure correct sails are up (for this passage we changed to our big no 1 genoa for downwind sailing)
- Clear out
- Create passage plan
- Download an up to date grib file
- Clean hull
- Tell our Mums where we are going and when!

Seeking isolation in the Windward Islands

With a long down wind passage coming up and a worn Monitor part (wind vane, probably due to over use) we thought it wise to order the spare part prior to the thing breaking on us. Thinking ahead of all possibilities and planning the best way to optimise our sailing passages is something that we have learnt the hard way! Failing to plan is planning to fail as my old Geography teacher used to drum into us. The spare part could not be found in the Caribbean (because that would just be too easy!) so we had to get the plastic disc, that cost us all of $15, shipped from LA. Paying for priority shipping ensured that it got to us within 10 working days, it also meant we spent more on the shipping than we did the part!

With 2 weeks to kill until the arrival of said disc, we bobbed around Grenada, checking out the other anchorages. Two weeks come…and go with no sign of our package. Getting bored of the crowded anchorages and murky waters we yearned for isolation. We had already checked out Saline Island (see previous blog post) so we went exploring other areas to kill our time before the parcel showed up, using Don Street's Cruising Guide to the Caribbean as our main source of info.

White Island is right next to Saline Island on the South side of Carriacou. I am attracted to white sandy beaches like a magpie is drawn to shiny things (as it happens, I also am drawn to shiny things). Beach combing is one of my favourite past times so I never forego the opportunity to check one out. White Island has a great beach and we approached the island from the East, anchoring in 10ft water near the shore. Although exposed to the winds, the reef limits the chop but it was probably one of the more rollier anchorages we have been to. 

As soon as we drop the anchor, Dylan beds it and I swim ashore. I jump over the side, put my mask on and plunge my head into the water - to be greeted with a big eagle ray coming to see what all the noise is about. The tail must have been 2 ft long, with Steve Irwin in the back of my mind, I gave it a wide berth and headed for terra firma. Walking to the windward side I come across a clearing that had rickety handmade tables and benches built around trees complete with an old rusty grill. Perfect braai area (thats BBQ to us Britishy people)! We had sailed to White Island with friends on Vagabundo and Toots so as I arrived back to the boat with news of my discovery, the boys went hunting for fish and lobbies whilst I had a well deserved rest, sun bathing on the bow - its a hard life. 

A haul of barracuda and 6 lobbies as well as side dishes accompanied me and a very excitable Dylan ashore to start the fire. Perhaps its being South African but at the slightest mention of a braai, Dylan is getting out his machete, grill and putting the beers on ice in eager anticipation of the evening ahead. Maybe its not his heritage but more him being a closet pyromaniac.

As we drank and enjoyed the good food and company, we could hear a rustling around us. Now to describe the scene, its pitch black but for a few of us wearing head torches so we can see what we are eating. There is no light pollution with no man-made structures in sight so apart from what is directly in front of us, illuminated by the torch, the rest of the scenery is plunged into darkness. Getting out my mega maglight, I shine the beam on the source of the noise and light up a swarm of hermit crabs. Not sure if that is the right collective term for hermit crabs but it sure described the scene in front of us. There were hundreds of these moving shells climbing over each other and having a squabble for bigger accommodation. I have never seen anything like it, everywhere I shined the torch the floor appeared to be moving with the odd sighting of a purple claw. They weren't shy of us either, many taking a route over our feet as a short cut to their destination - leading to many a squeal when we felt its claws on our toes! Getting in the spirit of things, we had a hermit crab race, picking one each and putting them in the middle of a circle. Mine came last, it was the biggest of them all and appeared to take a nap when we said 'GO!'.

Later that night I found a naked hermit crab with no shell. Wanting to help it out I went in search of a new home. Every shell I picked up seem to already have an inhabitant, glaring back at me as I disturbed its sleep. Eventually I came across a discarded shell and quickly walked back to the naked hermit crab (poor thing) to protect its modesty. The crab knocked on the shell and confirming there was no-one home proceeded to reverse into the hole, squirming his way into the swirl of the shell. Unfortunately the shell was a little on the big side and when he had positioned himself correctly, he couldn't lift it! After much exertion he decided to abort his mission and scuttled off to find a better option. Poor guy, I hope he found one!

After a rolly night we went to check out the west side of White Island in the dinghy to see if we could drop anchor there in between the reef where it was more protected. With a colourful reef below us teaming with fish, we donned the snorkelling gear and went for a drift dive…into the current. As Dylan was armed with his lobster catcher, I drew the short straw of having the dinghy painter tied around my waist. Swimming into the strong current with a good 80kg of extra drag behind me gave me an awesome workout! We caught loads more lobster but decided to just anchor where we knew in Saline Island for the second night and have yet another beach braai.

Finally our parcel had arrived, 5 weeks from ordering to receipt! Moral of story, don't use the US Postal Service (USPS). Once the parcel leaves the US, they no longer track it so all we knew was it left LA on a certain date with no idea where it had gone since. With no ties to Grenada anymore, we started heading North up the chain to our jump off point of Bequia.

Me shell collecting in Corbec Bay

Apart from the usual places mentioned in the Doyles Guide (Clifton Harbour, Union Island and Salt Whistle Bay, Mayreau) we also stopped at Corbec Bay on the western side of Canouan. This is a very small cove with room for only one boat, lined on both sides of the entrance with coral heads. Securing a bow and stern anchor we lay bow to the wind and waves, making a most comfortable nights sleep with plenty of ventilation coming down the hatch. This place was excellent because we were 100% certain that no-one could come in and attempt to anchor on top of us (made paranoid by a recent situation where a French cat almost dragged on top of us in Salt Whistle Bay)! The cove has clear blue water, teaming with pelicans and crashing waves against the reef with a view straight out to sea. Snorkelling on the north side of the bay was excellent, the coral wasn't great but was teaming with fish. Dylan rates all his snorkelling experiences on how many lobsters he can find (I wonder if he will ever get tired of this obsession?) so he wasn't that thrilled with the place. I swam ashore for some shell searching and found 5 or so worthy of my collection. After 30 mins however I succumbed to the mosquitos and dived back into the water. Good job the wind was constant and above 10 knots, keeping the bugs well away.

Next stop Bequia where we make the jump off to Bonaire via the Venezuelan islands of Los Roques and Los Aves.

Itchy feet

I get bored easily. After 2 weeks in a place we am climbing the walls, eager to try out something new, change the scenery from our portholes. We had pretty much done all of the anchorages mentioned in the Doyle guide in Grenada and Carriacou. We needed to stick around the area for longer waiting for post sent via USPS (been a month now and yet to receive it) so we started looking for other options. A sail to Carriacou with our friends off Sunrise and Karma was the plan to clear away the cobwebs. 

As usual, the passage between Grenada and Carriacou was to windward against current and waves. Beating for 9 hours covering 35 miles we were relieved to enter Tyrell Bay and were rewarded for our hard work by a wonderful night's sleep feeling like we were floating on a lake with no rolling!

The next day we all planned to sail to Saline Island, located to the South of Carriacou and a little known secret. With the promise of a deserted anchorage, white sandy beach and clear waters, Team Orion set off early. Only a couple of hours sail we dropped the hook in 10ft water and were the only 3 boats in the tiny bay. The place reminds us very much of Tobago Cays but with less people. Our own private island to explore and to top that off, the water is gin clear and the beach rock free.

No sooner had we arrived, Dylan was keen to check out the lobster population. On our first attempt we hauled in 4 medium sized lobbies and agreed we would have a beach BBQ (or Braai) that evening with everyone, also taking our yellowfin tuna we had caught the day before. 

Now this is what we had imagined the Caribbean to be, sun, sand, clear waters, deserted beaches and beach BBQs. We had yet to tick off the BBQ dream so an excitable Dylan rowed ashore uber early to start collecting firewood whilst I stayed on the boat preparing some side dishes. 

Getting the fire going we all sat around cooking our seafood and staring at the stars that seemed so much more noticeable with no light pollution around. Suitably fed one of the guys lay back to relax and complained about someone nipping him. Turning on our maglite we illuminated a HUGE crab that had invited himself to our gathering. I have never seen a crab so huge, I must admit we did contemplate cooking him too but figured that would be greedy so let him be. Sure gave us a fright and I wish I had been quicker with the camera. It was easily the size of both my hands and its claws alone would have provided great meat. Mmmmmm, we stopped drooling and questioned our sanity. Had we just turned into the cast of Swiss Family Robinson? Shipwrecked on a desert island and desperately needing sustenance….erm no, I had a fully stocked fridge aboard Orion with plenty of provisions to last a good few months!

To finish off our evening, I relived a childhood memory of mine by whipping out the marshmallows and going in search of some decent sized roasting sticks. The Americans in the group introduced us to s'mores. I had never heard of these before and thought it scandalous that you could do anything other than eat a burnt marshmallow straight off the stick. A s'more is a marshmallow sandwiched between 2 honey graham crackers with a layer of chocolate melted in. I must admit, they were really yum and I managed to wolf down 3 before I gave in to my bloated stomach and called it a day. 

A deserted beach to me always has the allure of excellent shell collecting and this one didn't disappoint. Slipping and sliding on the windward side of Saline Island I found many intact helmets and olives, albeit on the small side but all perfectly formed without the holes you so often find once they have been thrashed through the wind and rocks to end up ashore.

Every day we were anchored there, Dylan went out lobster hunting and on one occasion he and the other guys managed to catch a HUGE lobster. The antennas alone were enough to feed a person. I was a little hesitant pulling off the tail as he was very much alive and kicking but with 2 people and a towel (to cover the sharp spikes of his shell) we managed to extract and clean the tail as well as pick all the meat from the head and legs. With more lobster than we could possibly eat, I have a big bowl of it currently stinking out my fridge. What a lovely dilemma to have! Where most people pay ridiculous amounts of money in restaurants back home for a lobster dinner, we are eating our weight in the stuff here for a mere 2 hours of hunting them down. Lucky? Yes. Sick of it yet? No!

With canvas work waiting to picked up on the mainland and almost empty water tanks due to lack of rain recently, our stay in Saline came to an end. A great way to spend no money for days on end (our gold star days this month exceed the non gold star days), live off the land and enjoy good company. We shall be back!