Big Sand Cay and the short hop to Cockburn Harbor, South Caicos … Tues 24th – Wed 25th April 2018

Big Sand Cay and the short hop to Cockburn Harbor, South Caicos   …   Tues 24^th – Wed 25^th April 2018

It was awesome arriving at Big Sand Cay. The Island is about two miles long, north to south, and only a few hundred yards wide. It sits about 15 miles east of the Caicos Bank, is uninhabited and designated a wildlife refuge. We approached from the south and anchored up close to the west shore to get as much protection from the wind and swells as possible. The seas around it are the most intense turquoise blue – it feels like a tropical paradise perched on the edge of the world. You’d think it would be quiet and peaceful – think again. It’s certainly peaceful, but with the wind blowing from 20 – 28 knots and thousands of sea birds squawking it’s anything but quiet. We were thrilled to see so many seabirds – sooty, bridled and black terns, black noddy, white tailed tropic birds and shearwaters to name but a few. We didn’t go ashore mostly because we were too lazy to re-inflate and launch the dinghy only to have to put it away for the trip across Turk Passage to South Caicos the following day, but with so many nesting seabirds I’m not sure it would have been such a great idea anyway. So we just stayed on the boat and enjoyed relaxing. For dinner Gloria made an outstanding meat-loaf which we ate with sauteed butternut squash and cauliflower, followed by fresh pineapple for dessert. We worked on writing blogs and editing photos, but needless to say we didn’t stay up late.

The forecast was for the winds to veer further to the south-east and intensify overnight. We were concerned that we might get a lot swell curling round the corners of the island and into the anchorage. We deployed a second independent anchor from the stern to hold the boat towards the swells. We went to bed fairly comfortable, but I awoke at 3am with a sense that the motion of the boat had changed dramatically. Indeed the wind and waves had picked up and twisted Cotinga so the stern anchor was slack and ineffective. I tightened things up and went back to bed. At 6am I was wide-awake and fully aware that conditions had deteriorated further. At 6.45am I woke Gloria so we could get going before the situation got worse. Both anchors came up with no problem, we set off with a full main sail, dead down wind to Cockburn harbor, drinking our morning coffee as we went. About two hours into the trip Gloria (aka “Little Miss Sunshine”) asked what our back-up plan was if conditions in the “cut” were too rough to enter safely. In fairness this was a great question ... with no easy or obvious answers. The next safe harbor is on the other side of the Caicos Bank about 60 miles away, and if the conditions are too bad to get on to the bank then you have to sail all the way round the outside. Fortunately, passing through the cut proved to be easy. The water depth goes from 3000 feet to 30 feet in the space of a quarter of a mile, which under some circumstances can create “rage” conditions. Today it was just a bit bumpy and we were through into crystal clear turquoise water in no time.

The anchorage appears wide open, but much of the surrounding water shallows to near dryness creating reasonable protection. After a quick lunch we launched the “dumb dog” and headed to shore to check-in with immigration and customs. This turned out to be somewhat confusing. We asked a police officer and he checked with immigration and told us the officer was coming down to the marina (which is in fact just a store). We waited about half an hour and eventually the store called her and we were instructed to walk up to her office about a quarter mile away. We were able to find the office quite eaily and the lady was very pleasant and helpful. Then the customs officer drove over from her building, to pick us up and drive us back to her office. More forms and payments and we were finished. But check this out, the customs officer then jumped back in her car and drove us back to our dinghy! There aren’t too many places where I can imagine that happening. Everyone we have met seems super friendly. We had an early dinner at the local restaurant that turned out to be excellent – pan fried red snapper and grouper. Now we are back on board resting! Tomorrow we plan to explore the area.

Mike

Big Sand Cay …   21^o 12.0 N, 71o 16.0 W

Cockburn Harbor, South Caicos   …   21^o 29.5 N, 71^o 32.3 W

A squall to the east of Big Sand Cay

The southern tip of Big Sand Cay

Big Sand Cay looks lovely

Sunset from Big Sand Cay

Sunset from Big Sand Cay

Impressions of the Mona Passage and beyond … Sunday 22nd – Tuesday 24th April

Impressions of the Mona Passage and beyond   …   Sunday 22^nd – Tuesday 24^th April

This blog entry will be a little different. We’re both tired from the passage and not feeling highly motivated to write a full story and the Scopolamine patches that we have both been using tend to create havoc with your mental acuity and memory. So what we are going to do is simply catch some of thoughts and impressions from the last 48 hours.

First Gloria …

Pre-made meals (sandwiches for lunch and casserole for dinner) are great thinking.

First day of sailing was quite pleasant.  Initially broad reach but winds went a bit north of east, which helped a lot.

There is a lot of traffic in the Mona Passage.  Around noon on Sunday we had two vessels near us.  One was a tanker and we wound up heading more northerly to avoid him.  Later that afternoon when Gloria had the helm, there were five vessels in our vicinity. AIS is such a help. It lets you know the name of the vessel, gives the speed, course and sometimes the distance at closest approach (hopefully not 0.2nM). 

Major change of direction means a different angle to the swells.  Over time you can grow accustomed to the way the swells are moving the boat.  When you have a drastic course change (to avoid a collision!) this new motion is pretty unsettling. 

The nights are quite hard.  Number of reasons—can’t anticipate the larger swells, can’t see the sails to do much trimming, can’t see squalls approaching.  Getting enough sleep/rest is difficult.

It was smart to put a reef in the main before dark.  (Could maybe have done this a little earlier to make it easier to see).  When anchored near islands the wind drops down overnight but not while out at sea.

Watch schedule worked out pretty well.  Tried to run this through the day as well.  Helpful with getting a nap or resting when you are not on watch.

When morning arrives, you are tired but the light gives you a mental lift.  The approach of evening of the second day is difficult.  More sleep deprivation on it’s way!

Our second day of sailing with lighter winds on a very broad reach was very trying.  Mike deployed every sail plan we have (not the storm sails) to try to keep us moving along at greater than 5 kts.  We had a poled out genoa on the same side as the main, also tried that with the genoa on the other side.  The storm gennaker came out.  Eventually we did some motoring.  Then the wind piped up and we sailed again. Finally overnight, we went back to motoring.

Seas were coming from the side making for quite uncomfortable conditions in the cockpit and below.

Shallow banks to our north kept us from sailing closer to the wind for better speed and easier angle to the swells.

Mike hardly got any sleep.  He was kind enough to stay in the cockpit with me while I was on watch.  The cockpit isn’t the easiest place to get sleep.  Although between about 1:30 and 3:00 am on the second night, Gloria slept in the cockpit.

The timing of the passages is difficult.  We estimated based on six knots of speed, expecting to arrive in the morning.  During the light wind phases, I started to think that we might be so slow that we would arrive after dark on the third day.  In contrast, when we were zooming along at greater than seven knots, I worried that we’d be “early” compared to our estimate and arrive before daybreak on Tuesday. Probably the message is “there’s plenty of things to worry about!”

Now Mike …

I can’t believe we just crossed the Mona Passage and made it all the way up to Turks and Caicos. For literally years I have been thinking and reading about this passage, although it was mostly anticipating an easterly crossing, which is much harder against the trade winds. A couple of years ago I kept a weather log for several months using an excel spreadsheet, in an effort to get a sense of what conditions to expect and how they change. We were fortunate to have good weather with no imminent threat of storms.

We covered 283 nM (as the crow flies) in 47 hours. It’s the longest passage we have done as just the two of us.

Gloria was awesome. I know she gets nervous about the sailing and particularly long and remote passages, but she was a real champ.

It would be great to be able to describe what it’s actually like both during the day and at night. Most of the time it’s not particularly exciting and we are just hanging out in the cockpit. The autopilot does 95% of the steering and sail changes and trimming are not that frequent. It’s hot in the cockpit, but at least we have started using the zip-on sunshade that came with the boat. It tends to limit visibility from directly behind the wheel, but you can see around it just fine and there not so much to watch directly in front of you when you are offshore. We chat to each other a bit, but to be honest a lot of the time we are just lost in our own thoughts, in a semi-comatose state! The scopolamine patches are interesting; we find them very effective for seasickness but they make it hard to think clearly, your eyesight is impacted and your memory is quite clearly compromised. Night-time sailing is a completely different experience from the day. If there’s a lot of moon then it can be quite bright and you can still see and anticipate the seas. If it’s cloudy or little moon it can be really dark and the motion seems greatly exaggerated. It’s also noisy on the boat with the wind in the rigging and waves slapping the hull or breaking nearby. This was particularly true last night when there were several waves that broke near our stern quarter and we expected to get soaked only to have the foam wash under the transom. Sometimes the boat will get into a “grove” and there’s a tremendous sense of the boat being at one with the waves. In fairness Cotinga is a terrific boat in the ocean, handling all sorts of seas in a comfortable way. We always eat good food on the boat and as Gloria mentioned it pays dividends to be well prepared with pre-cooked or easy to cook meals and lots of snacks.

There have been a number of occasions in the last few days when the sailing felt fantastic, the boat was moving along really fast and everything felt very comfortable and secure.

We have a couple of foam pads for the cockpit seats but they aren’t that great. We have baulked at the price of buying cockpit cushions but I think we either need to make some ourselves or dig deep and have some professionally made. I have to tell you that my butt is sore from sitting the cockpit. We do have a couple of camping chairs at the back, which are surprisingly comfortable, but the fabric covering them is starting to fall apart.

We find the longer passages very demanding. Having reached Sandy Cay we have spent the day just hanging out and recuperating which has been great. But it begs the question – what would it take to feel that relaxed on the boat whilst making a passage. I think the main difference is the motion. Even if you manage to control motion sickness it can still be hard work doing anything because the boat is moving all over the place. I personally find listening to music on my ipod really helps me relax.

Photography on board is tough. I’d love to get more night shots or action shots when things are a bit rough, but in the latter case I’m usually busy and there is a lot of salt water spraying around which is terrible for camera gear. I do have a tripod on the boat and do use it. When in harbor at anchor it works OK but when you are sailing it isn’t really enough to keep the camera steady. If any one has any smart ideas let me know.

One highlight of this passage was the appearance of a school of small dolphins just before we reached Sandy Cay. At first I thought they were predatory fish, then they started showing off with jumps and back-flips. Sadly Gloria missed it as she was down below catching up on some sleep.

A broad reach - sailing north west in the Mona Passage

Gloria at Sunset - the Mona Passage

Gloria at Sunset - the Mona Passage

In the cockpit at night

In the cockpit at night with red light on in the galley below

In the cockpit at night with instruments set to "night mode" illumination

Sailing into the sunset north of the Dominican Republic

The cockpit at night

 A view up the side deck at night - everything seemed to be coated in salt!

Sails illuminated by the half moon - night two, north of the Dominican Republic

Making Tracks – St Croix to Aquadilla Wed 18th – Sat 21st April 2018

Making Tracks – St Croix to Aquadilla   Wed 18^th – Sat 21^st April 2018

St. Croix  to Flamingo Bay, St Thomas…   Wed 18^th  April   …   35 nautical miles

The forecast for Wednesday (18^th April) was for lighter winds (10-14) with plenty of squalls. Thursday’s prediction was for “salty sailing” 15-20 kts.  After much debate, we chose to use the lighter day to go directly north—more of a broad reach rather than dead down wind.  Anyone who had gone dead down wind in light airs knows how hot and unpleasant it can be! Indeed, while our sail to St. Thomas was very easy, it was very hot and sunny in the cockpit.  I started to feel like one of those rotisserie chickens at the supermarket!  We arrived in Flamingo Cove at about 2:30 pm having left at about 8 am.  We had some cold drinks then did a couple of repairs before taking a refreshing swim and shower.

Mike worked on repairing the “captains chair” that sits on the aft deck.  After many hours in the sun the fabric that made up the seat had given way. (No, it was not the excessive forces applied by my backside!—The second chair has fabric parting on the back portion, so we’re fairly sure it’s sun damage. ) Meanwhile I attempted a repair on the sun shade/awning.  We had noticed a small tear on the port side of the awning (near the dodger) quite some time ago.  When we thought about deploying the shade while under way, the 4-inch tear dissuaded us.  Using some sail repair tape on both sides, I sandwiched the tear and am hoping that it’s good enough for the time being.

We managed to stay up until passage maker’s bedtime!  We spent a disturbed night listening to the creaking and groaning of the ‘anchor snubber’ as the boat swiveled in the 15-20kts of breeze.  Eventually we both wound up sleeping in the salon where the noise was somewhat muffled.

St. Thomas to Palominos   …   Thur 19^th April   …   38 nautical miles

We planned to depart at 7am to take advantage of the cooler temps early in the day.  We were well on our way by 7:30.  Our first way-point was near Sail Rock. That section was a broad reach with some nasty swell action.  I was feeling not so chipper despite the sea-sick tablet I had taken. From Sail Rock we turned more westward or down wind with the genoa poled out to starboard and the main on the port side.  The swell was then coming directly from the stern and I started to feel better. We passed Isla de Culebra –-an island that we thought would be one of our anchorages in an earlier version of the passage.  Eventually neared our way-point for Palominos.  A couple of quick gybes got us on a good line for the harbor.  We picked up a mooring that is labelled “day use only”.  We’ve not decided if we will drop the mooring and anchor or just chance it.  We did set the anchor alarm on the GPS while we have some cold drinks and rest a bit.

Palominos to San Juan   …   Fri 20^th April   …   39 nautical miles

After a quiet and pleasant evening off Palominos Island we awoke early and prepared for another day of sailing. It was pretty calm so we raised the mainsail whilst still on the mooring and left about 7.30 am for San Juan. The winds were similar to yesterday, perhaps a little stronger, 15-20 knots from the east with occasional gusts to 25 knots. We sailed with main and genoa on a broad reach for a couple of hour but then headed more downwind. Once we reached the north coast of Puerto Rico the seas seemed quite a lot bigger and with decent wind we opted to sail with just the main, although we did get the pole ready to go wing on wing. Two events dominated the trip. Firstly, the coast guard was conducting a live fire exercise 15 miles north of San Juan with a 15 mile exclusion radius, and so we ended up calling the coast guard on VHF to confirm that our route into San Juan was OK. Secondly, Gloria got a rope burn on her hand whilst furling our genoa. We had blanketed the genoa behind the main and Gloria released the sheet (rope), which went very slack as the genoa luffed. But then we rolled on a wave, the genoa filled and as Gloria struggled to maintain her balance the sheet flashed through her palm and burned her. It’s not too bad, but it was a bit of a shock and a salutary reminder of the enormous forces that we are dealing with here.  We turned south into the entrance of San Juan harbor at about 1 pm and were impressed with how beautiful old San Juan looks. However, there was no time for photos as it was blowing solidly at 20 knots and we still had a full main up and no immediate room to turn up and drop the sail. As we rounded behind Old San Juan we were able to drop the sail and motored up into a fairly industrial anchorage area and dropped the hook in 30 feet of water. It turns out to be perfectly pleasant flat anchorage but a little noisy!

San Juan to Aquadilla   …   Sat 21 st April   …   67 nautical miles

When we would study the charts of the Caribbean to plan the return trip, Puerto Rico seemed so far away that I couldn’t imagine ever getting there. After three days of travel from St. Croix, we were in the harbor of San Juan. (A very busy industrial port it is.)

The next leg of the journey was along the north coast of PR to a bay on the west side (Aguadilla) somewhat tucked in behind the headland of Punta Borinquen. As this journey would be a long day, we were up and 6 am and underway shortly thereafter.  Leaving the anchorage, the winds seemed very light.  We expected that once we were outside the harbor we would be back to the usual easterlies.  Mike assured be that we were experiencing the “night lees” of the large island.  After about 4 hours of motoring, there was finally enough wind to sail.

We heard many broadcasts from the Coast Guard.  After Friday’s ‘live fire’ exercise, we were very keen to listen to these messages.  However, the transmissions were so garbled that all we could understand were “US Coast Guard”, “break” and “out”.  What if it were another exercise and we were sailing right into it?

The placement of our wind gauge results in low readings when sailing down wind. Our course along the north coast of Puerto Rico was nearly directly down wind.  As the day went along, we may have been lulled by the low readings.  We chose to gybe the mainsail when we got to the point at the northwest corner of the island. Once we had accomplished the gybe, we were experiencing winds of 18-24kts—quite exiting for the nervous mariner! That last five miles seemed very long indeed.  Eventually, we were anchored off the beach and enjoyed a cold beverage, showers in the cockpit and dinner. 

Our position was such that we could look at Isla Desecheo (which I incorrectly assumed was Isla de Mona) and into the Mona Passage.  Knowing the reputation of the Mona Passage and contemplating crossing it the following day, made for a restless night.

Cruise liner passing Flamingo Bay, ST Thomas

Cruise liner passing Flamingo Bay, ST Thomas

Roller Furling - San Juan anchorage

Cruise Liners San Juan anchorage

An industrial feel to the San Juan anchorage

Wing-on-wing with the sun shade up and great conditions!