On June 9, 2009 at 5:10 local time we entered St. George's Harbor on Bermuda. This constituted (technically speaking) the completion of Blue Stocking's circumnavigation since we started west from here in January of '07 and arrived from the east, crossing our wake in the entrance channel of Town Cut. Bermuda welcomed us (as Opua had seen us off) with an intense little thunder shower and I might have stood off for a while if I was totally unfamiliar with the entrance. But I felt confident about my position and orientation even though the visibility was poor and the approach went smoothly.
The entire trip north from St. Martin was smooth and pleasant. We had plenty of wind for the first two thirds--still in the trade wind belt. Around 28 north we entered the Horse Latitudes and the wind (and our daily runs, which had been 140 miles or so) dropped dramatically. The winds were light for the last three days or so, but enough to keep going and our final voyage time was just about seven days for 870 miles.
Fred caught a nice big mackerel on the first day, so we ate royally. I had even sprung for a couple of rib eyes so we continued the great eating through the third day. (The little Koolatron Peltier-effect cooler Fred brought from the US is providing just enough refrigeration--cold, but not ice-cold, beer and confidence-inspiring mayonnaise.)
We'll be hanging here for a week or so and start the last leg--back to Cape Cod--soon after my younger son arrives by air on the 15th.
I have a great sense of satisfaction from completing the circumnav and, especially, from managing to get the boat back home considering the apparent hopelessness of my situation in New Zealand. The not-so-great part is that I no longer have the dream of carrying out a circumnavigation to sustain me spiritually as it did for the last several decades. I was well aware when I set out that I would be left with this void when (or if) I completed the voyage and I've been keeping my mind open to possibililties for the next chapter of my life all along. There have been a few hopeful developments, but I face another set of daunting tasks on arrival home. If the US economy is as bad as I have been hearing, it may not be a simple matter to rebuild my cruising kitty, or perhaps even to hold onto the boat. If any of my readers have advice or suggestions, please feel free to send them along. Thanks to all for your continuing interest and support.
|
Comments [3]
After five weeks here in St. Martin it's time to sail off on the penultimate leg of the circumnavigation. With the exception of a brief social flurry in the early part of May, mostly I was anchored in the middle of St. M's huge lagoon doing little chores on the boat and killing time until son Fred's arrival on May 26. He and I did some touristic exploration (not nearly enough) and some 2-person maintenance jobs I saved for his arrival: re-reeving the mizzen topping lift and scrubbing the propeller and the bottom. I can go up the mast alone or with casual support on deck, but it is definitely safest to have a capable and experienced person on deck, because often the unforeseen happens in work up the mast and it's helpful to have someone who can improvise solutions safely and quickly avoiding repeated climbs. This climb and repair went smoothly. For the bottom cleaning (also much safer and more convenient with good deck support--we shared the underwater work) we went on a little cruise around the island to the most popular resort area off Orient Beach--on the east side of the island obviously. Among other resorts on the beach there is one called Club Orient which is a "plage naturiste" or nudist beach (clothing optional as they say). We had to interact with that a bit for Fred to rent a windsurfer. Mostly we would have preferred if the subathers (and walkers, lots and lots of walkers) had kept their clothes on. An amusing moment: we anchored at one point quite close to the beach to be in shallow water to wash the bottom. The totally Gallic and totally naked captain of a nearby day charter cat dinghied over to inquire (politely) why we were so close to his boat and was satisfied to hear we would be away in a few hours, before he returned from his day trip. Fred later observed it was a bit tough to take him entirely seriously. I had been a dedicated if solitary nudist during most of the long leg from Cape Town, so somehow it did not seem so odd to me. Probably not a good idea for a male sailor to work entirely nude in the engine room, for the same reason you don't wear a tie in shop class! And of course women are well-advised to wear tops when working with wringers. (this reference may be obscure to younger readers--ask your mom or dad).
On a more serious note, we have been following the weather patterns quite closely since hurricane season technically began yesterday (early hurricanes are usually in the Gulf of Mexico) and there is no evidence of the existence of an "easterly wave" which is the little low coming like a smoke ring off the Sahara and drifting across the Atlantic on the trade winds. These are the pesky things that sometimes, at this time of year and through October, become Atlantic hurricanes. Glad not to see one the day we leave.
I mailed the pactor modem off to the US for assessment and repair. It hasn't gotten there yet (3 weeks) so is probably lost in postal space. Oh well. Point is--no posts or emails until we get to Bermuda, hopefully on or soon after the 10th.
|
In port, on time, on budget (LOL)
Having an expensive but very good cheeseburger at Chesterfield's part of the dockside complex where I came in on my dinghy. (Free wifi, though!)
Fun to catch up with the email (quite a few after 2 months). Actually took me a minute or 2 to come up with my password (after 2 months).
Lots of projects on the boat, but in a nice place to do them. St. M was actually the "next place" I never made it to in both of my trips to the Caribbean on BS. So far I like it a lot better than the Virgins. Friendly and sophisticated as well as, well, Caribbean.
Fred tells me my first article has appeared in Good Old Boat Magazine. He thinks I'm famous. Well, maybe if I get something in Cruising World!
Highlight of the last few days was seeing the glow on the horizon from the lights ofl Guadeloupe night before last. First sighting of land in what is it? fifty four days!
True to form the sea offered me a good-bye party last night with the most intense wind and rain squall since the day we left Opua. No biggy, I've been sailing this leg with very little canvas, but still--good for a few laughs.
Turned on the FM after I got anchored this morning (arrived just at dawn, as planned) and initially got a big kick out of the Island music. A few minutes later I thought, gee, this is a little monotonous. A few minutes after that I found myself boogying in front of BS's (unwise) full-length mirror. So I guess it's body music, not mind music. Duh.
I slept on brief patches last night working my way up from Antigua. So, I'm actually in pretty good shape. Have been to Immigration, lunch, wifi. Still, maybe a little nap this afternoon.
Thanks to everyone for all your support on this somewhat challenging part of the circumnavigation.
Speaking of which, I am now less than three hundred miles from the Mona Passage, so only that far from a technical completion of the circumnav. No reason to go there, of course, I'll probably "cross my wake" and finish the circumnavigation in Bermuda. But the real end of the voyage of course is at the yacht club dock in my home village on Cape Cod.
|
