RTW Leg 28: The Leeward Islands

The Caribbean from Sint Maarten and north to Florida

Lucy in at the deep end

There is a definite chill in the air and it’s not down to the frosty relationship between the Captain and First Mate!  Since leaving Trinidad we have gone through a scale of unbearably hot and sweaty to our current state of looking out the duvet cover (double sheet thickness) and questioning when to actually dig down into the bowels of the boat to find the duvets themselves. Its not rocket science, the further north we go, the colder we get.

Having waved farewell to Harvey and Dougal, we left Antigua and headed north west to Sint Maarten, a short hop of 90 nm but to make it before last light, we left in the dark at 0400.  This new island was a welcome distraction from the rest of the Caribbean, divided in two with the French Saint Martin to the north and the Dutch Sint Maarten to the south and populated with lovely people, fantastic food and a Carrefour supermarket (always the best!) The newly dive qualified Captain took full advantage of his trade discount and the island’s tax free status to buy a complete set of diving gear and was, as a result, a very happy bunny with his new acquisitions.

All the gear and no idea; John's new toy

Reprovisioned and rested, we pressed onto the British Virgin Islands, this time an 80 nm day sail and another early start in the dark.  We arrived at the most easterly island of Virgin Gorda but had we strayed just five miles further north, we might have accidentally dropped anchor at Richard Branson’s Necker Island and I just know how he would have welcomed us with open arms.  We didn’t have long to linger but did explore The Baths, an incredible formation of giant boulders that you can scramble through under and round, spoiled only by dozens of those pesky tourists.

The Baths in the BVI's

The main reason for being in the BVI’s was to arrange our visa to access the USA. Getting into America is fairly easy, unless you have a boat, in which case you need to get to a USA territory first by plane, train or watermobile but definitely not in your own yacht.  Then, once in have your passport stamped by the lovely homeland security chaps, you have your three month visa from the date of said stamp.    And so it was, we parked Broadsword in Road Town, Tortola, jumped on a one and half hour ferry to St John, USVI. Got through passport control, get passports stamped by the not so lovely officials, sit in a very dodgy café to grab a very mediocre bite to eat… and then do it all again in reverse.  We won’t get that day back in a hurry.  But it was done and were now ready to continue north safe in the knowledge we can get into the USA when the time comes.

The First Mate constantly tells the captain, and anyone else who will listen, that the last four birthdays and mothers’ days have all been at sea with just her crew mate for company. The Captain says this is entirely her own fault for being born in April, but notwithstanding this minor inconvenience, The Captain contrived to make amends. 

In the car wash

This was a trip summary for that day. In this report you can see our maximum speed was 15.5 kts. A record for Broadsword perhaps?

Our next archipelago was Turks and Caicos with Grand Turk our first island 450 nm four days and three nights with boisterous and at time unpleasant conditions, squalls of 36 kts recorded and surfing down waves at 15kts.  My silver lining was spotting a whale launch itself clean out of the water.   I’m sure I saw a sign stating “no bombing”. The Captain was off watch asleep and snoring.  

Feral donkeys are abundant on Grand Turk, brought to the island 300 years ago for the production and transportation of salt

We cleared in at Grand Turk and then a further two days over the grand banks to The Providenciales where the Captain’s amends awaited.  Three nights in the swanky Rock House Hotel. Job well done Captain Strachan. The Captain was however, worried about the other woman in his life.  Could we park her outside the hotel, just to keep an eye on her? Well, when he’s got his mind set, that’s just what we did.  A beautiful, luxurious few days were spent being waited on hand and foot.  A room that could almost make you weep with a bed as gloriously comfy as newly minted marsh mallow.  A lovely birthday chocolate cake was waiting in our room  and smart freebies like water bottles, beach bags and towel (Ed note – no Lucy, you were not supposed to knick the towels).  The first mate couldn’t have had a better time although she had forgot her jar of marmite.  But that was ok.  The captain swam back to the boat to get one for her….  He’s a keeper.

Our stay at The Rock House on Turks & Caicos

After three days luxuriating with delicious food, attentive pampering and sumptuous relaxation, the First Mate was dragged kicking and screaming back to the boat. Back to reality and a very thin mattress.  But there was a new adventure ahead and we set course  for The Bahamas.  North we pressed for an overnight passage, very excited at the prospect of what lay in wait ahead. We planned to clear in at Long Island and as we approached Clarence Bay, we passed to port Strachan Cay.  We’ve come across a number of references to “Strachan” throughout the Caribbean and you cant help but wonder what heinous involvement our forebears may have had in slavery.  Our past is never far away nor easy. We anchored on the other side of Strachan Cay in a smidgen over 1m of gin clear turquoise water which we would come to find ubiquitous throughout the Bahamas.

It became a game to see how little water we could anchor in without bottoming out

Just up the coast was of a sink hole, a natural geological phenomenon which had established itself as world famous free diving site, Deans Blue Hole.  We asked a bored and grumpy marina official if we could anchor the boat near the deep hole and take the tender in.  They said “definitely no” too shallow, too dangerous and too stupid to cross the reef. We were told we need to hire a car and access the Deep Hole from shore.  But The Captain reckoned that with the calm conditions and timing our crossing of the reef at high tide, it would be doable.  We anchored off the reef and popped the tender over a gap in the reef. Done. When we got there, it was quite eerie. Or as we in the Prenter family like say…’smeeky.’ We threw on our snorkling gear and swam over to literally look over the edge of a 663 foot deep underwater sink hole. The first mate was not wearing her big brave pants that morning so had a wee look and then set off to the shore to look for shells.  There we found three memorial stones to victims of this incredibly dangerous sport of free diving.  One such fatality memorialised was a diver who had tragically died last year and horrifically he was still down there, at the bottom as it was far too challenging to retrieve him.  Not a nice thought at all.

A memorial to three free divers who perished in Deans Blue Hole

We sailed on.  As the water was mirror calm, we stopped Broadsword to  bobbing mode for lunch and a swim.  One lovely passing boat thought we had engine trouble and called on the radio to enquire if assistance was required and were pleasantly surprise when we thanked them and assured them all was tickity boo.  Arriving at Calabash Bay we passed the monument to Christopher Columbus marking the point where he landed in 1492.  With our anchor nicely dug in, we went ashore in the evening to a hotel for a meal. The First Mate has been properly spoilt and reluctant, at this point, to do any cooking! But it was a very average, very expensive, with very indifferent service. We headed back to the boat with lighter pockets and a sense of disappointment.  We had heard that the Bahamas are eye wateringly expensive and we had just got our wake-up call.

Always a joy when flat calm to switch off mid passage and go for a swim

Next stop George Town and gateway to The Exuma (pronounced “ek soo muh”) to get petrol for the tender and more provisions.  The petrol shop was called Strachan or Straun as they prefer to pronounce.  That name again. Pride or remorse?

Like a string of pearls, The Exuma is a long line of cays or islands embraced by shallow turquois waters. We explored all the way up the Bahamas and fell in love with the coves and beaches, but most of all the water. Gin clear, teaming with rays, turtles and sharks. Most days we would find an isolated anchorage and snorkel , explore and relax.  Then rise the next day and set sail for the next anchorage to arrive by lunch.

Sting Rays were constant companions on our swims

Whilst we have been on this leg, John had been in contact with an old army friend who he hadn’t seen since leaving in 1989. They were in the Berry Islands.  But they had friends nearby at Staniel Cay who we should get in touch with.  We approached Staniel Cay and were immediately called up on the radio by Jan who kindly invited us for a sundowner and a meal at the local bar.  He was joined by his wife, Tonya and friends Renee, Peter and Katherine. They were so helpful and had nuggets of advice, especially as we were keen to go diving with Stuarts Cove at Nassau.  We got a contact of an elderly couple who had a their own dock at the bottom of their garden directly opposite Stuart Coves Diving dock. And for a very reasonable fee, dockage included water, laundry, sundowners and lots of chat.  We went diving with Stuarts Cove the next day and the First Mate, who had been struggling with the squeezes (sinus pain between the eyes) was delighted to find she had recovered.  So, we booked in for a second dive, this time the shark dive, the next day. This was an awesome experience which was essentially a frantic feeding frenzy with us in the middle of it. The sharks were literally thrashing all around and bumping into us, the proximity was utterly enthralling.  We also met Findlay, one of our dive instructors from Granton in Edinburgh. It is, as always, a very small world.

Stuarts Cove diving, famous the world over for Shark Diving in the Bahamas

We sail north to the Berry Islands, slightly nervous about meeting an army friend of John’s who he hadn’t seen in 35 years.  Well, we shouldn’t have been.  They were waiting in their tender to welcome into the marina.  Anchor down and we went to their boat for drinks and delicious homemade sourdough pizza and chats.  David, Lizzie and her sister Trish and brother-in-law John were perfect hosts, and we staggered off their boat having had a wonderful evening reminiscing over ice cold Negroni’s.

As we had approached the Berry Islands, we had noticed that the engine was spluttering a wee bit, expected perhaps with our tank nearly empty! We filled it up on our way out at the island fuel dock.  But, after the refueling, it kept spluttering.  With sails up, The Captain decided to ignore it.  We were heading for the USA and would make landfall at St Augustine in Florida where we were very much looking forward to spending a few days staying with my sister Melinda and her husband Nico. It was to be a short 300 nm passage and we jumped straight into the Gulf Stream and enjoyed the ride north.  But the wind died and engine was fired up.  There was that stuttering again, slowly getting worse.  The Captain checked the Racor pre filter, one was clogged so he switched to the clear one.  And then changed the fuel filter.  The engine still spluttered and died, restart, splutter splutter. We had timed it nicely to enter St Augustine at slack water but even so, if we lost the engine as we came up the river it could have got nasty.  Eventually we had to employ the services of Trey who came out with his tow boat, he and Tilly (his wee dog) shadowed us into the marina at St Augustine. Thankfully we didn’t need a tow and were incredibly grateful for his kindness and help.  The most important thing was that we had arrived.  In America! We knew exactly how Christopher Columbus must have felt back in 1492.

We were going to be seeing Melinda and Nico for the first time since last May. Happy happy days!  Melinda and Nico moved to St Augustine three years ago living in a beautiful large house on an estate which conjures up images Wisteria Lane in the ‘Desperate Housewives!’ They have a community area with tennis courts, pickle ball and a pool.  We were looked after so well by Min (Melinda) and Nico.  We explored St Augustine, went to a really weird museum (First Mates idea), ate out but most of all, just caught up.  Min and the first mate would not stop talking and catching up on ‘stuff’.  Every so often we’d wander into a room, yacking, and if the Captain was trying to catch up with the news or read his book, you could see him sigh, get up and wander off to find somewhere quieter.  Another huge favour they did was take delivery of six large boat batteries which they kindly delivered to the marina.  These were extremely heavy, but Min works and works out in a gym and apparently dead lifts much heavier weights, so it was a doddle!  Very much appreciated, all the same.   Min even did our laundry, and the first mate is wondering how she ever got so domesticated!  It was a wonderful time, and we can’t wait to go back and visit them again.

All too soon, it was time to leave.  Min and Nico drove us back to the boat for lunch on board and another family tearful farewell. The Crew know that this departure will mark a significant end where our time in the tropics will be left behind for the cooler climes in the north.  Wearing next to nothing and daily swims in the sea will soon be a distant memory.