26 June 2015 | Nassau
Jane
Cuban Fireworks
It had been our dream to visit Cuba since we started on our voyage three years ago. The reality started as a dream and ended as a nightmare.
We sailed from Montego Bay in Jamaica and entered Cuban waters a day later. We were heading for the Jardines de la Reina, a fabulous uninhabited archipelago on the south side. We’d been told we could fly our yellow flag and make our way slowly to Cienfuegos, anchoring overnight in the many wonderful places in the Jardin. We’d also heard that the fishing was easy and even useless types like us would have no trouble catching something to eat.
Our first sightings of Cubans were smiley fishermen on a couple of small fishing boats. They wanted to sell us some fish but we wanted to have a go ourselves. The water was very shallow and a gorgeous turquoise blue. We only use hand reels, no rods, so we chose our lures and chucked them overboard. All our lures have names and we give them a good pep talk before we drop them overboard to try and encourage them. I chose Barbie and the Barbie girls, a fetching pink squid with feathers, chased by smaller pink squidlets. We are so desperate we’ll try anything. Quelle surprise, five minutes later there were two loud bangs as both lures were taken. Of course these things always happen just when there’s either a tricky bit of navigation coming up or something breaks. So one of us (me) sorted out the tricky navigation and the other (Tony) hauled in the fish. Our method of dealing with this is as follows: Tony hauls in the fish, I shriek at him to be careful, don’t lose it, he grimaces and yells back, go and get the bucket and the rum. We stop for a quick tipple and haul the fish in again. No really the rum is for the fish. Once the fish is on board in our extra large pink soft builders bucket we give it a shot of overproof rum, ‘ Rivers’ by choice, a delightful Grenadian product fit only to give to a fish, a squirt down the throat and up the gills dispatches the beast painlessly and quickly and we presume fairly happily. We had caught two Barracuda. Lots of people won’t eat them but we’d been told they were safe to eat here so fish supper for two.
We’ve been experimenting with smoking fish, fairly unsuccessfully, so had another go. We put the cleaned fish in a rack in a pan and try and set light to hickory wood chips. This is quite difficult. As soon as we put the lid on the pan to keep the smoke in the fire goes out and so does the smoke, but don’t despair, Tony had made a small incinerator out of a tin, put little legs on it and we put the chips in there and set fire to them. A spoon wedged under the lid to let in a little air and half an hour later we had smoked fish, delicious in a fish pie.
Our first anchorage was a challenge, reefs everywhere and a very narrow gap in. We followed our Nigel Calder pilot book, twenty years old or so but reefs don’t move about much and his directions were spot on. There was a wreck just visible near the shore and the book said it wasn’t much, but the book was old. We snorkelled over and in twenty year the coral had grown. I think there was a specimen of every coral in the region all spookily waving about on a sunken boat. They are really spooky. If you use the same book go and see the wreck, it’s really beautiful and not deep, perfect snorkelling and back to the boat for a perfect fresh fish supper.
Our fabulous stay in Cuba is going to be blogged later and I’m jumping to our exit from Cuba, the start of the nightmare.
We left Cienfuegos and set off east, heading for Santiago de Cuba where we planned to clear out then make our way to the Bahamas. We knew going east wasn’t going to be easy but the winds were kind to us and we didn’t have to motor too much. We stopped overnight in our favourite anchorages and had a lovely time. Then the nightmare started. We left the Jardines were heading for Cabo Cruz when the storm came. They always happen at night. The winds were 40 plus and gusting but the worst thing was the lightning. Storms happen at night but it was a light as day there was so much lightning, constant bolts all around us and crashing thunder that shook the boat. This went on for 4 hours. Tony was on watch and he told me to stay in the cabin. I huddled in the corner and prayed. We have a lot of electronic equipment and a strike on the boat would wreck it all. While Tony struggled to keep Capisce stable and safe the storm raged, then our autohelm packed in. This means that if you’re on the helm you have to hand steer and can’t even go down below for a wee. It’s the third member of our crew and invaluable. Tony kept us safe and eventually after four hours the storm broke and the weather calmed down. We had made it through but now our boat was doing one knot towards our destination and was incredible difficult to steer. Dawn broke and the wind died down completely and the engine went on. Yaagh, what’s happening? The cockpit floor started to vibrate so the engine quickly went off again. We were now adrift. After a bit of a think and a nice cup of tea, tony decided to get his snorkelling gear on, go under the boat and take a look at our prop. It’s quite scary going under a boat at sea when there’s a bit of a swell and the stern is bumping up and down. One crack on the head and I’d have a drowning man on my hands. Tony tied a rope around his waist, helpful in case he drifted off but not helpful if tangled around the rudder. I waited anxiously for him to surface and he came up triumphant. Wrapped around our prop was a large heavy duty plastic sack that had filled with seaweed forming a great massive lump of horror. He went back down with his knife and cut it all away. Fingers crossed, engine back on and a huge relief, no vibration and we could now steer.
Our problem now was that the storm had pushed us south and we had drifted past a point where we could make our easting. There were strong currents and the wind was coming from the east and we still had no autohelm. The only direction we could sail in was south so we decided to head for Jamaica, hand steering all the way, thankfully only 80 miles. We knew we needed repairs and didn’t hold out much hope of getting these done in Cuba so back to Montego Bay we went.
The next morning we arrived back in Montego Bay, sailing beautifully taking turns on the helm. We hadn’t cleared out of Cuba, didn’t mention it in Jamaica and as all the Cuban documents were in Spanish, no one noticed. Phew. Thanks to advice from Greenham Regis when we fitted out before we left England, we’d kept our old autohelm in tandem with our new one. Tony managed to get it going and it’s not as good or easy to use but it’s a lot better than hand steering all the time. At least I can have a wee.