South by North
Patience worn thin awaiting favorable weather was finally rewarded as we exited Elizabeth Harbour, George Town, March 29, around noon into bright sunshine and a south by southeast 20 knot wind. Still, George Town presented one last sticking point. Gusty, strong winds the week before had caused everyone to let out additional anchor chain. The depth and opacity of the water obscured the fact that our closest neighbor, S/V Helen Irene, now rested nearly over our anchor. Ted and Judy, her owners, were attending beach side church services as we edged carefully forward. In spite of premonitions of punishment for not attending church, Pat skillfully maneuvered Live Now into position as we finessed the anchor up and were aweigh, perhaps blessed by the influence of fervent prayer ashore.
Once clear of the inlet, with all sail flying, we headed northeast toward Long Island. But wait! Going North to go South? Shallow water requires a route that takes you a bit north of George Town, around Long Island then south, southeast toward our next destination, the Dominican Republic. Since the prevailing wind is southeast, the direction you want to go, you must take advantage of the brief periods when the wind breaks from it's usual pattern to get as far east as possible, even if it means going a little north. That way, when the prevailing winds return, you can turn. Because the breaks in the prevailing pattern are brief, unless you want to face strong headwinds and uncomfortable seas, heading southeast from the Bahamas usually involves short hops and long waits in sometimes uncomfortable anchorages or heading east far out to sea. We were prepared to stop at either Long Island, Rum Cay or Conception as conditions dictated. As it turned out, however, for once, the arbitrary and capricious wind gods favored us and just as we rounded Cape Santa Maria, Long Island, it obligingly backed east, allowing us to make the turn south, pretty much on the rhumb line for our destination. The result: a nearly perfect beam reach sail in 15 to 20 knot winds in 2' seas for the first half of our cruise. We sailed so well we actually passed another boat, the S/V Venture, a noteworthy event for its rarity. Trolling for fish as we sailed, I caught a small, fierce looking barracuda but released it after recalling that barracuda cause more fish poisoning than any other.
The barracuda proved luckier than several flying fish that found their way on board on their own. I couldn't get Pat to attempt a mouth to gill resuscitation. So after briefly considering eating them, we held a 'scaled' down memorial service and returned them to a watery grave .
As night fell a clocking wind and adverse 1/2 knot current dictated a combination sailing and motor sailing toward Mayaquana, our last stop in the Bahamas. We timed our arrived with the sunrise and were treated to a truly sublime moment as we sat in the lee of the island, 2 miles off the coast: sails furled, motor off, motionless on a silent, mill pond sea; waiting for what proved to be a spectacular dawn. We found a deserted anchorage in Betsy Bay and, I, having had the last watch went to bed while Pat cleaned up the boat and made ready for the next leg of our journey.
Just before dusk the same day, refreshed from 6 hours sleep and a meal, we raised the anchor and headed south around Devil's Point toward Providenciales, finding hope in a route that left the devil astern and headed for “divine guidance”. Apparently, that guidance did not include a favorable wind as we found that it had continued to clock southeast, putting it right on our nose. With the wind and the current pushing us the wrong direction, we struggled to make our way. Sailing close with a 16 knot wind we could barely make headway, so, we bore off almost due south tacking northeast just north of Little Inagua then finally back southeast and our destination. Rather then the planned early morning arrival, we now approached the the low-lying Turks and Caicos in the middle of the day. In reviewing the charts and the advice they provided, the Pony Cut entrance to the Banks looked more promising than the generally recommended Sandbore Channel, so, in the late afternoon, we entered the Cut and dropped anchor behind the reef in clean sand and 9 feet of water. Submerged reef on either side of us gave us a unsettled, vulnerable feeling. However, the anchorage proved to be quite comfortable and safe. We had planned to go on to Providenciales (Provo) about 9 nm away but the all night sail and lateness in the day prompted us to elect to stay put until morning.
After a peaceful night, we followed the Pony Channel across the shallow Caicos Banks to Provo. The channel is wide, the water clear and we anchored in Sapodilla Bay around 10:00 am. The Turks and Caicos, originally a Spanish possession but settled by the British in the 1700's, remains a British Crown Colony. After debating about whether you pronounce Sapodilla in the Spanish manner, giving the “ll” a “y” sound, I, correctly, as it turned out, used the English pronunciation and in accordance with all written guidance, attempted to contact Immigration by VHF radio. Now, Immigration and other officials can be very particular about following the protocol. On occasion, we have gotten no response and occasionally a hostile response, for failing to correctly and precisely identify the party to whom we wished to speak. In Nassau, for example, if you try to raise the Nassau Harbour “Master”, the more common title for those controlling the harbor, you'll get no response because you must contact Nassau Harbour “Control”. Once failing to raise anyone on the official hailing channel, Channel 16, I went to their known working channel, Channel 9. They responded, informing me that the hailing channel was 16. I hailed them again on Channel 16 and they responded, directing me to Channel 9! The cruising guides are sometimes unclear, ambiguous or contradictory as to the procedure. The published protocol for entering the Turks and Caicos requires contacting the port of entry Harbour Master as soon as you are within radio range and you'll be directed to an anchorage or dock. We, dutifully, attempted to do that 3 times on the designated channel (16) a couple of miles from the harbor, no response. We anchored and once again called, trying different combinations of titles and locations. Not completely surprised by this, we began to lower the dinghy and seek someone with whom to clear. Finally, we hear a BBC quality voice come over the airwaves announcing, “Live Now, Live Now, this is Southside Marina, Southside Marina.” Simon, a British expatriate, with his educated, modulated voice, in the most welcoming manner, informs us that the process here is to beach your dinghy and make your way to Immigration & Customs just over the hill from the anchorage. He also mentions that the Marina, some miles away, is having a soiree and dinner and they would be “frightfully pleased, if we could attend”. There's no charge of course, it's just something they do every Thursday night and a car and driver will “be round” to pick us up at, “...shall we say 6:00?” Well, having eaten canned beef stew for two nights running, we're something short of reluctant to accept and say that of course we'll be “delighted”.
Still to check in, I lowered the dinghy, motored to shore, and proceeded up the dirt road following Simon's directions. It was fortunate that I had directions because I found no sign of anything resembling an official building, in fact, I found no signs at all. Sapadillo Bay is the most frequent port of entry for cruisers so one might expect a “All Visitors Must Immediately Report to ….” Or, “This Way to Immigration”. I wandered up the road, took the first right and approached a gated dock area. Still no signs or even flags flying that would suggest that officialdom resides here. One of the four civilian Security guards issued me an id and directed me to Immigration, a nondescript concrete building with “Immigration” painted in small letters over the entrance. Of course, now it's noon and I found no one there. The door was locked. I went up the stairs to find a uniformed man trying to break into an office. He looked up sheepishly and explained that he left his keys at home. I really couldn't help him and inquired about clearing in. He really couldn't help me, suggested I try the office downstairs. I told him that no one's there, he said you might try Customs. I went back downstairs and out the door, round the building to a side entrance marked, helpfully, “Customs”. There I found people eating lunch. I said that I could come back later, they insisted on starting the paperwork. The process proved refreshingly simple and informal (and cost a fraction of what it cost to enter the Bahamas). I completed a couple of forms: “Firearms...No.” “Pets...No.” “Purpose of your visit...Pleasure”. “Stores...Umm??...Neiman-Marcus?” They told me that there's no need for my wife to fill out the forms, that I can sign for both of us, no problem. I asked about Immigration and pointed out that there was no one in the office. They told me not to worry about it, I didn't need to go to Immigration. Everyone was friendly and in response to my polite questioning, I learned about life on the island and their families. This was not the usual treatment you get and I was favorably impressed.
Other than the initial frustration in contacting and locating the office, the process went exceedingly well. In case you think the confusion I experienced is somehow associated with “third world countries”, we and others have found US Customs & Immigration just as loose or maybe worse. A British couple we met came from Cuba to the US (remember they are our sworn enemies--the Cubans, not the British). Heeding dire official warnings covering visitors entering the US from Cuba, they headed immediately for the Immigration office in Ft. Lauderdale. US Immigration and Customs had no clue of what to do. After calling around and checking manuals, our friends were finally told to go away and pretend that they hadn't even gone to Cuba! We were once told to wait 3 days in Key West before clearing customs when we returned from Cuba (a perfectly legal visit, well mostly legal anyway). We were told to stay on-board until then. I explained to the the authorities that by then we would have drunk all the rum, smoked all the cigars and the illegals would have been long gone! Sympathetic, they 'expedited' the process and came the next day (a holiday weekend resulting in my paying overtime for the service—receiving no credit for the beer they drank while conducting the inspection).
That night, we arrived on the Sapadilla Bay beach to await our ride to dinner. There we found Roy & Doon of S/V Alianta and Sim & Rosie of S/V Bold Endeavour. We had met with them briefly in George Town several weeks before as a part of a group heading south. They had left George Town two weeks before us and gotten stuck first in Mayaquana and now here waiting for good weather. Both couples are from New Zealand. They met in Florida and have been “buddy boating” ever since. Bob, the Marina owner, arrives shortly and we all pile into his 4 seater 4X4 (meaning that Doon climbs over the back seat and hunches and Rosie sits on Sim's lap). The roads are atrocious and we bounce our way around the bay to Southside Marina and a fantastic meal of grilled grouper, rice & beans, 3 kinds of salad and Pat's ever popular cream cheese concoction. Simon and his wife Charlyne, along with Bob are gracious hosts, sharing their stories, that are almost becoming common, of intentions to sail the world interrupted by arrival in “Velcro” paradise where they get stuck (Simon arrived 4 years ago). We are trying to take more of a “Post-It” approach to paradise, staying put for awhile then moving on. Ron, soloing a large wooden trawler, grilled the fish that he'd caught earlier that day and shared his story. He's really just passing through and has only been in Provo for about 4 months. We met another couple from Germany, Frank and Dorte, cruising south on their Morgan 41, S/V Elan. Appetites sated and exhaustion setting in, Bob returned us to Sapadilla Bay. Bob turns his car so that his headlights illuminate the beach as we carried/drug our dinghies, stranded by the low tide, 200 feet to the water, a process made more difficult by our earlier overindulgence (speaking for the others, of course, not ourselves—primarily because this was a BYOB and we had forgotten our "B").
The Turks and Caicos consist of 30 times more water than land. Unmarked coral heads that poke the surface from as deep as 20 feet dot the shallow Banks. There are no navigation aids. Given that, they must be transited in daylight with good visibility, meaning fairly flat seas so that you can see the reefs. We had planned to motor to Ambergris Cay on the southeast edge of the banks in the morning in preparation for exiting the Turks the following day. However, the morning, contrary to the forecast, brought a 20 knot southeast wind, meaning a slow uncomfortable slog that might end with us on the Banks in the dark. So, with laundry to do and emails to check, we motored instead a couple of miles to a more comfortable anchorage in the basin of the incomplete but well protected Cooper Marina (known as the Southside Annex) located within a mile of the Southside Marina. There we found Ron, our chef from the night before, on his trawler, Cruzin Fools. We spent the remainder of the day doing a month's worth of laundry, reading and visiting with our new found friends at Southside. Tomorrow we set sail for Ambergris Cay.
NOTE: More pictures to follow. High speed internet not available.
Once clear of the inlet, with all sail flying, we headed northeast toward Long Island. But wait! Going North to go South? Shallow water requires a route that takes you a bit north of George Town, around Long Island then south, southeast toward our next destination, the Dominican Republic. Since the prevailing wind is southeast, the direction you want to go, you must take advantage of the brief periods when the wind breaks from it's usual pattern to get as far east as possible, even if it means going a little north. That way, when the prevailing winds return, you can turn. Because the breaks in the prevailing pattern are brief, unless you want to face strong headwinds and uncomfortable seas, heading southeast from the Bahamas usually involves short hops and long waits in sometimes uncomfortable anchorages or heading east far out to sea. We were prepared to stop at either Long Island, Rum Cay or Conception as conditions dictated. As it turned out, however, for once, the arbitrary and capricious wind gods favored us and just as we rounded Cape Santa Maria, Long Island, it obligingly backed east, allowing us to make the turn south, pretty much on the rhumb line for our destination. The result: a nearly perfect beam reach sail in 15 to 20 knot winds in 2' seas for the first half of our cruise. We sailed so well we actually passed another boat, the S/V Venture, a noteworthy event for its rarity. Trolling for fish as we sailed, I caught a small, fierce looking barracuda but released it after recalling that barracuda cause more fish poisoning than any other.
The barracuda proved luckier than several flying fish that found their way on board on their own. I couldn't get Pat to attempt a mouth to gill resuscitation. So after briefly considering eating them, we held a 'scaled' down memorial service and returned them to a watery grave .
As night fell a clocking wind and adverse 1/2 knot current dictated a combination sailing and motor sailing toward Mayaquana, our last stop in the Bahamas. We timed our arrived with the sunrise and were treated to a truly sublime moment as we sat in the lee of the island, 2 miles off the coast: sails furled, motor off, motionless on a silent, mill pond sea; waiting for what proved to be a spectacular dawn. We found a deserted anchorage in Betsy Bay and, I, having had the last watch went to bed while Pat cleaned up the boat and made ready for the next leg of our journey.
Just before dusk the same day, refreshed from 6 hours sleep and a meal, we raised the anchor and headed south around Devil's Point toward Providenciales, finding hope in a route that left the devil astern and headed for “divine guidance”. Apparently, that guidance did not include a favorable wind as we found that it had continued to clock southeast, putting it right on our nose. With the wind and the current pushing us the wrong direction, we struggled to make our way. Sailing close with a 16 knot wind we could barely make headway, so, we bore off almost due south tacking northeast just north of Little Inagua then finally back southeast and our destination. Rather then the planned early morning arrival, we now approached the the low-lying Turks and Caicos in the middle of the day. In reviewing the charts and the advice they provided, the Pony Cut entrance to the Banks looked more promising than the generally recommended Sandbore Channel, so, in the late afternoon, we entered the Cut and dropped anchor behind the reef in clean sand and 9 feet of water. Submerged reef on either side of us gave us a unsettled, vulnerable feeling. However, the anchorage proved to be quite comfortable and safe. We had planned to go on to Providenciales (Provo) about 9 nm away but the all night sail and lateness in the day prompted us to elect to stay put until morning.
After a peaceful night, we followed the Pony Channel across the shallow Caicos Banks to Provo. The channel is wide, the water clear and we anchored in Sapodilla Bay around 10:00 am. The Turks and Caicos, originally a Spanish possession but settled by the British in the 1700's, remains a British Crown Colony. After debating about whether you pronounce Sapodilla in the Spanish manner, giving the “ll” a “y” sound, I, correctly, as it turned out, used the English pronunciation and in accordance with all written guidance, attempted to contact Immigration by VHF radio. Now, Immigration and other officials can be very particular about following the protocol. On occasion, we have gotten no response and occasionally a hostile response, for failing to correctly and precisely identify the party to whom we wished to speak. In Nassau, for example, if you try to raise the Nassau Harbour “Master”, the more common title for those controlling the harbor, you'll get no response because you must contact Nassau Harbour “Control”. Once failing to raise anyone on the official hailing channel, Channel 16, I went to their known working channel, Channel 9. They responded, informing me that the hailing channel was 16. I hailed them again on Channel 16 and they responded, directing me to Channel 9! The cruising guides are sometimes unclear, ambiguous or contradictory as to the procedure. The published protocol for entering the Turks and Caicos requires contacting the port of entry Harbour Master as soon as you are within radio range and you'll be directed to an anchorage or dock. We, dutifully, attempted to do that 3 times on the designated channel (16) a couple of miles from the harbor, no response. We anchored and once again called, trying different combinations of titles and locations. Not completely surprised by this, we began to lower the dinghy and seek someone with whom to clear. Finally, we hear a BBC quality voice come over the airwaves announcing, “Live Now, Live Now, this is Southside Marina, Southside Marina.” Simon, a British expatriate, with his educated, modulated voice, in the most welcoming manner, informs us that the process here is to beach your dinghy and make your way to Immigration & Customs just over the hill from the anchorage. He also mentions that the Marina, some miles away, is having a soiree and dinner and they would be “frightfully pleased, if we could attend”. There's no charge of course, it's just something they do every Thursday night and a car and driver will “be round” to pick us up at, “...shall we say 6:00?” Well, having eaten canned beef stew for two nights running, we're something short of reluctant to accept and say that of course we'll be “delighted”.
Still to check in, I lowered the dinghy, motored to shore, and proceeded up the dirt road following Simon's directions. It was fortunate that I had directions because I found no sign of anything resembling an official building, in fact, I found no signs at all. Sapadillo Bay is the most frequent port of entry for cruisers so one might expect a “All Visitors Must Immediately Report to ….” Or, “This Way to Immigration”. I wandered up the road, took the first right and approached a gated dock area. Still no signs or even flags flying that would suggest that officialdom resides here. One of the four civilian Security guards issued me an id and directed me to Immigration, a nondescript concrete building with “Immigration” painted in small letters over the entrance. Of course, now it's noon and I found no one there. The door was locked. I went up the stairs to find a uniformed man trying to break into an office. He looked up sheepishly and explained that he left his keys at home. I really couldn't help him and inquired about clearing in. He really couldn't help me, suggested I try the office downstairs. I told him that no one's there, he said you might try Customs. I went back downstairs and out the door, round the building to a side entrance marked, helpfully, “Customs”. There I found people eating lunch. I said that I could come back later, they insisted on starting the paperwork. The process proved refreshingly simple and informal (and cost a fraction of what it cost to enter the Bahamas). I completed a couple of forms: “Firearms...No.” “Pets...No.” “Purpose of your visit...Pleasure”. “Stores...Umm??...Neiman-Marcus?” They told me that there's no need for my wife to fill out the forms, that I can sign for both of us, no problem. I asked about Immigration and pointed out that there was no one in the office. They told me not to worry about it, I didn't need to go to Immigration. Everyone was friendly and in response to my polite questioning, I learned about life on the island and their families. This was not the usual treatment you get and I was favorably impressed.
Other than the initial frustration in contacting and locating the office, the process went exceedingly well. In case you think the confusion I experienced is somehow associated with “third world countries”, we and others have found US Customs & Immigration just as loose or maybe worse. A British couple we met came from Cuba to the US (remember they are our sworn enemies--the Cubans, not the British). Heeding dire official warnings covering visitors entering the US from Cuba, they headed immediately for the Immigration office in Ft. Lauderdale. US Immigration and Customs had no clue of what to do. After calling around and checking manuals, our friends were finally told to go away and pretend that they hadn't even gone to Cuba! We were once told to wait 3 days in Key West before clearing customs when we returned from Cuba (a perfectly legal visit, well mostly legal anyway). We were told to stay on-board until then. I explained to the the authorities that by then we would have drunk all the rum, smoked all the cigars and the illegals would have been long gone! Sympathetic, they 'expedited' the process and came the next day (a holiday weekend resulting in my paying overtime for the service—receiving no credit for the beer they drank while conducting the inspection).
That night, we arrived on the Sapadilla Bay beach to await our ride to dinner. There we found Roy & Doon of S/V Alianta and Sim & Rosie of S/V Bold Endeavour. We had met with them briefly in George Town several weeks before as a part of a group heading south. They had left George Town two weeks before us and gotten stuck first in Mayaquana and now here waiting for good weather. Both couples are from New Zealand. They met in Florida and have been “buddy boating” ever since. Bob, the Marina owner, arrives shortly and we all pile into his 4 seater 4X4 (meaning that Doon climbs over the back seat and hunches and Rosie sits on Sim's lap). The roads are atrocious and we bounce our way around the bay to Southside Marina and a fantastic meal of grilled grouper, rice & beans, 3 kinds of salad and Pat's ever popular cream cheese concoction. Simon and his wife Charlyne, along with Bob are gracious hosts, sharing their stories, that are almost becoming common, of intentions to sail the world interrupted by arrival in “Velcro” paradise where they get stuck (Simon arrived 4 years ago). We are trying to take more of a “Post-It” approach to paradise, staying put for awhile then moving on. Ron, soloing a large wooden trawler, grilled the fish that he'd caught earlier that day and shared his story. He's really just passing through and has only been in Provo for about 4 months. We met another couple from Germany, Frank and Dorte, cruising south on their Morgan 41, S/V Elan. Appetites sated and exhaustion setting in, Bob returned us to Sapadilla Bay. Bob turns his car so that his headlights illuminate the beach as we carried/drug our dinghies, stranded by the low tide, 200 feet to the water, a process made more difficult by our earlier overindulgence (speaking for the others, of course, not ourselves—primarily because this was a BYOB and we had forgotten our "B").
The Turks and Caicos consist of 30 times more water than land. Unmarked coral heads that poke the surface from as deep as 20 feet dot the shallow Banks. There are no navigation aids. Given that, they must be transited in daylight with good visibility, meaning fairly flat seas so that you can see the reefs. We had planned to motor to Ambergris Cay on the southeast edge of the banks in the morning in preparation for exiting the Turks the following day. However, the morning, contrary to the forecast, brought a 20 knot southeast wind, meaning a slow uncomfortable slog that might end with us on the Banks in the dark. So, with laundry to do and emails to check, we motored instead a couple of miles to a more comfortable anchorage in the basin of the incomplete but well protected Cooper Marina (known as the Southside Annex) located within a mile of the Southside Marina. There we found Ron, our chef from the night before, on his trawler, Cruzin Fools. We spent the remainder of the day doing a month's worth of laundry, reading and visiting with our new found friends at Southside. Tomorrow we set sail for Ambergris Cay.
NOTE: More pictures to follow. High speed internet not available.
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