04/29/2008, Curacao Marine Boatyard
There are 3 types of unwelcome boat visitors: weevils, roaches, and rodents (not in that order). Unfortunately, we have now had them all aboard Scappatella. Fortunately, though, we've managed to catch them at very early stages so we've never had a real "problem".
The 1st signs of today's visitor were little black turds in the dinghy - either from a large mouse or a small rat. "How the heck did a rodent get in the dinghy" we wondered. We're currently anchored outside the boatyard in Curacao, having spent the day yesterday sailing over here from Bonaire. We hadn't even been ashore yet. I've heard of rats swimming out from shore in places and crawling up your anchor line. That would have to be one burly rat...ugh....I sure hoped that wasn't the case. Later that afternoon I noticed a few very neat little holes chewed through the garbage bag we had sitting up on the foredeck. (We usually stow garbage in the anchor locker until we can take it ashore.) Bummer. That confirmed we had an unwelcome "guest" aboard Scappatella. Even worse, we're getting ready to put the boat on the hard, and if we didn't catch him by the time we left we'd be in real trouble. In addition to eating your food and such, rats and mice can wreak havoc in a boat by chewing up your wiring, leaving you with a huge, expensive mess!
I looked in the anchor locker, Louis checked the dinghy, and I searched inside the food cabinets. No little black turds. I put out a couple of glue traps we had on the boat and continued searching below. After a bit I heard Louis yell - a sense of urgency to his voice - "Sweetie, he's in here...bring up some gloves; this could get messy". Louis had found him hiding in the anchor locker - I had apparently missed him. He had him trapped under a coiled up hose and had already given him a good whack by the time I arrived with the gloves. He put them on and finished off the poor little guy by giving him another couple of whacks and threw him overboard. Turned out to be a rat, and not a very cute one at that. He must have snuck onto the dinghy when we were ashore in Bonaire, and had quite a wild ride over here, towed behind Scappatella in 5' swells!
I guess it's a bit weird when offing a little rat can make your day. We both felt a bad killing him, but I have to say I was pretty damn happy at the end of the day!
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04/23/2008, Kralendijk, Bonaire
Ahhhh....the sounds of Bonaire: the bomp, bomp, bomp of the bass blaring out of "Karol's Place"; the eardrum-piercing whine of pocket-rockets drag-racing along the short strip of "Main Street"; and, my personal favorite, the constant yap yap yap of the irritating little dog on shore, just off our bow. What is an island escape and visit to paradise to some is a re-entry into civilization for us! Albeit a gentle one, as Bonaire is a small lightly-developed island with crystal-clear water, beautiful snorkeling and diving...and the best Italian restaurant in the Caribbean. But, compared to Los Aves where the only sounds we heard were the lapping of the sea and the cries of the birds...it's still a bit of a jolt.
We arrived yesterday afternoon after a beautiful sail from Sotavento. Hey, I just called our sail "beautiful"! That's huge for me - I never thought I'd refer to an 8-hour sail as "a beautiful sail"! Truth be known, I don't really like "sailing" all that much. Never have. For me, the main appeal has always been about adventure and exploration; I've viewed sailing as sort of a means to an end...a way we can explore all these cool places in our own little "floating home". Kind of like a floating Eurovan.
But, it turns out there are a few parts of sailing I have found that I do really like: I like pounding into big waves (weird, I know); the challenge of short-tacking thru the shallow coral reefs; trying to "surf" down the big-but-not-big-enough waves (don't know that I'd like that if they really were big enough, though!); and the gentle sails where I can sit on the foredeck and contemplate life, listen to my IPOD, or whatever. But, overall, the sport of sailing is a bit too cerebral or mechanical for me, I guess. "Sheet the sail in, let the sail out, figure out how to rig this or that, blah, blah, blah" And then there are all those damn knots! I'm a bit of a mechanical buffoon, so all that knot-tying and line-rigging just doesn't come easy to me. And, let's not forget the throwing-up part...that's pretty fun!
Anyway, back to our beautiful sail before I convince myself again that I don't really like this "sport". Yesterday we were "running wing-on-wing", which means the wind was coming from behind us - that's the running part - and we had the mainsail out on one side of the boat with the genoa - the sail in the front of the boat - hiked out on the other side, kept in place by what's called a "reaching pole". That setup is the "wing-on-wing" part, which presents the maximum amount of surface area of our tired, old sails to the wind, and allowed us to sail an average of 5 knots in light to moderate winds (5 to 15 knots).
So, when the wind comes from behind so do the seas, of course. And "following seas" create the most uncomfortable motion for both Louis and I; we always get seasick. Our worst seasick episode ever was our very 1st sail from Bonaire to Curacao last May, with the previous owner, Bob. Both Louis and I were violently puking over the rail, and even that night as we anchored off "Klein Curacao" we were both still a bit queasy. Turns out we had a combination of food-poisoning and sea-sickness, but we didn't know it at the time. Bob must have really been wondering what the hell we were doing buying a sailboat - we certainly were! Anyway, another triumph about yesterday's sail for me was that I didn't take meds, (except for some natural stuff), and I didn't get seasick! Yahoo!!
Anyway, as we approached Bonaire in the late afternoon light, we turned beam-on to the winds, and our last hour or so was a beam reach in 15 knots of wind with calm, flat seas - a perfect end to our day!
p.s. Pictured above are the old slave huts of Bonaire; extremely hot, cramped quarters.
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04/21/2008, Aves de Sotevento, Venezuela
Full Circle!
Well, about 6 months & 1,800 miles later and we've now come full circle. We're back in Aves de Sotavento and have just crossed our original path - we sailed here last December en route to Puerto Rico, and vowed to return to this desolate, beautiful little group of islands and reefs. This time, we anchored near what we're calling "Bird Island". There are literally thousands of birds nesting on this little island....mostly terns, we're thinking, and a few gulls, but we also saw a "baby Boobie" - the fuzzy one on the left in the photo attached to this entry. I had a bit of a Hitchcock moment as I apparently got to close to someone's nest and this tern swooped down, invoking a little scream out of me as his face all of a sudden appeared directly in front of my camera lens. (Sorry, bird!). We also had a few great snorkels here and saw 2 octopuses (octopi?), some HUGE 3' parrotfish, and then a NUCLEAR parrotfish. No kidding, this thing was close to 4 feet in length!
Just a few more days and then we're off to Bonaire, the island where we first laid eyes on Scappatella way back in January of 07.
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04/20/2008
Most people would say I'm a pretty good cook. My favorite way of cooking is to take a bunch of ingredients that seem to go together and create some new way of combining them into (hopefully) something tasty. The boat is great for that kind of experimentation, as I can't just go to the store and buy what I need for some recipe or another; I have to figure out something to make with what we have. After spending a week aboard Scappatella, my sister Suzanne named me "The Kitchen Witch" for my experiments in the kitchen. The idea for a dish is often generated while I'm zoning out doing something sort of passive like snorkeling or swimming...or during the rare moment we get to experience a "lazy" sail. And typically it's when I'm hungry. The actual "recipe" itself is always created real-time, as I'm throwing it together. It's often a bit of a mad rush at the end, and the kitchen, er galley, typically looks like the Tasmanian Devil came through. It's a bit of a crap shoot, but the odds are usually in my favor in the kitchen.
Except for the simpler things. Like cornbread. Rice. Corned Beef. All dishes I have royally screwed up aboard Scappatella. There's just something about cooking simple things that I seem to have the hardest time with. Maybe it's that there's no challenge in them, so I get bored. Probably, though, it's related to my inability (resistance?) to follow directions. Take rice, for example. Simple, right? 2 cups of water, a cup of rice, some butter, and simmer for 20 minutes or whatever. But I screw it up so often that at home Louis usually ends up making the rice. It's become his "job". (I don't dare ask him on the boat as there's already an inbalance of jobs...although I'm catching up lately!)
Or corned beef...how hard can that be? Put it in a pot with some veggies & potatoes and boil it for however long it says on the package, and voila, right? Not. The WORST meal I've ever cooked in my life was last year's Christmas dinner aboard Scappatella. Salty, tough, corned beef and flavorless, mushy boiled vegetables. (In all fairness, though, I think the cow had something to do with the beef part.) But what was I thinking anyway, serving Corned Beef for Christmas dinner? I guess it sounded homey, and Louis and I wanted homey as we were missing family and friends. It was fitting, though, as it was such a crappy Christmas that having a lousy meal to go with it was what was called for.
Well, today, it's cornbread. Burned on the bottom, dense like a hockey-puck on the inside, and the nicely browned top layer is so greasy I can almost slide it off by itself. How can I screw up cornbread? It was a mix; you just add egg, milk and butter. Ok, I didn't measure the butter 'cuz it was too hard (as in rock solid); so I "eyed" it, erring on the high side. I mean, who ever heard of corn bread being too buttery? (It is). And, then there's the oven, with it's scary high-output burner that always sounds like it's going to explode or something. During this 30 minute baking project I had to mess with the temperature gauge 5 or 6 times to try and keep it at temperature. It went from 250 to 425 in my effort to keep it at 350.
I'm sure I'll get the hang of the oven eventually. But I will still probably screw up the cornbread. Maybe I'd better stick to my tried and true kitchen-witch way of cooking.
So....Soy-Marinated Grilled Pork and Roasted Eggplant over a bed of Asian Rice Noodles, Mint and Napa Cabbage - no problem!
But a nice hunk of cornbread to go with it - no can do! (It wouldn't go anyway)
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04/19/2008, Dos Mosquises, Los Roques
We're anchored in a wild place today. Dos Mosquises, 2 small windblown islands somewhat sheltered by a protective barrier reef out in the middle of nowhere in Los Roques, Venezuela. One of these islands is a long spit of white sand with some underbrush and 3 lone palm trees. And that's it. Except for the dilapidated car sitting on the sand. How did THAT get there? Turns out it's an old boat, but it really looked like a car to both of us!
The other island houses an old airstrip, a few structures, and a small research and fisheries station. On the fisheries side we had read that they gather turtle eggs from all around Los Roques, hatch them, and keep them until they are 1 year old, and then let them go. So Louis and I headed over there today in the dinghy and checked it out. Our hopes weren't high, as it appeared to be abandoned. But it wasn't! They had about 15 little 6-month-old Green turtles swimming around and about the same number of 8-month-old Hawks Bill turtles. They were very, very cute. I held one, and he was obviously quite used to humans as he was perfectly content to be held. (Well, what do I know? Could be that he hated it, but figured the last time he squirmed out of someone's arms and fell it hurt, so he's learned.) Anyway, after being so enamored and fascinated with turtles in the wild, it was pretty cool to see these little guys up close at Las Tortugas Fisheries Station.
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04/17/2008, Buchiyaco Island
We sailed along the eastern side of the Roques today between the outer barrier reef and the inner reef. Short tacking our way in 18-22K in protected waters. Fantastic! We were flying the staysail with a reefed main. It was a narrow channel the most of the way so we'd get as close as we dared to the reefs and then tack with the auto pilot auto tack feature. This works great, unless you push the wrong buttons, which I did only once. Turned us right into the reef! Luckily I'd thought of this possibility and had the emergency plan in my head. A quick stomp on the auto pilot dis-engaging knob and spin the wheel! Just missed...Yikes!
Tomorrow we exit this channel to the Caribbean through, Boca de Sebastopol. A narrow, shallow (11', we draw 7') break in the reef facing due east, directly into the wind and seas. Should be interesting........
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Today, we decided to go for a little sail around the islands...just for the sheer enjoyment of sailing (what a concept!) I pictured hanging out on the foredeck with my IPOD, finishing a playlist I was working on for a friend,...enjoying the steady 15 - 20 knot winds and relatively flat seas within the islands. WRONG.
We headed out into the 5-6' swells, put up the main and genoa, heeling waaaay over (as you do with 20 knots of wind & all your sail out), and were debating whether we should have taken some seasick meds for our little 3-hour sail. All of a sudden we heard a CRASH and a bunch of clanging below. I headed down to check it out, and saw that the empty wine bottles had escaped their not-very-secure spot. But more disconcerting was the sound of water running...no gushing...coming from the forward cabin area. I heard Louis say in the background, "did you shut the..." and ran forward to the head (aka bathroom) where GALLONS of water were gushing in through the wide-open side port. Ooops. I yelled up to Louis, "FLATTEN THE BOAT OUT", and tried to jam the port shut against the pressure of water rushing in. All the bathroom "stuff" was floating around in the little shelf below that port (those of you who've visited can picture that - yup, the chopsticks, too) and I was getting drenched trying to shut the damn port. Finally, the boat flattened as Louis turned it downwind, and he brought down the hand pump to pump out the water from the "shelf area" into the drain below. All of this pumping & such happened in a little teeny bathroom the size of a stackable washer and dryer, located in the part of the boat that rocks/pounds the most at sea (the forward part), so you can imagine we were both feeling a little bit pukey at this point.
Near-disaster averted, we return to the cockpit munching a few Salteens trying to focus on the horizon. Louis looks over with that green grimacing look he gets and says, "isn't this fun"? We go on for a bit, and are talking about something, when Louis says to me, "You know, I don't think either of us has thrown up on this whole trip!" He was serious...it just cracked me up. What sailors we are!
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So, when you're sailing from country to country (or even port to port in some countries like Mexico) you have to go through immigration and customs just like you would if you were arriving or leaving by plane. In cruiser terms, this is known as "checking in" and "checking out". It can be as simple as, in Dominica's case, showing up at the customs office, filling out some paperwork and checking in and out in one easy transaction. Or it can be quite complicated, as in Mexico, where you have to go to three separate places (a bank, the customs office, and the immigration office) which, for cruelty sake, are typically located nowhere near each other. And you have to go to these each of these 3 places the day you arrive (to check in) and the day before you leave (to check out). They all hold slightly different hours, too, some closing between 12 and 2; other closing from 11:30 to 1:30, except on Wednesdays when they also close between 12 and 2, but don't open until 10:00 and close at 4:00. Got that? And don't forget about the holidays...most countries we've been to appreciate vacation time more than the USA so you'll find a lot of the typical holidays we have plus bonus days like "Easter Monday" and such. (All of these are, to the cruiser, days when you can't get anything done in whatever country you're visiting). But, I digress. What does all of this have to do with "The Roach Motel", the title of this entry?
Well, we're in Los Roques, islands belonging to Venezuela. If you want to visit these islands, you can sail here and "check in" and stay for up to 2 weeks. But, when you want to leave, you HAVE to go to the mainland of Venezuela or to another larger island like Isla Margarita where they have customs and immigration offices to clear out of their country. You can't do it from here. So, in other words, you can check in, but you can't check out...just like the roach motel. Now, going to the mainland or to Isla Margarita is no easy feat. At best, it's about 100 miles in the wrong direction and reports of crime in these parts range from regular dinghy thefts & boat boardings to pirate activity (aka armed robbery at sea) to, less often, some pretty violent crimes. All of this has some cruisers locking themselves in their boats at night and, as in many places, it's commonplace to raise your dinghy up out of the water at night and lock it to the boat. Needless to say, Louis and I weren't thrilled with the idea of sailing 200 miles round trip to lock ourselves into our boat while our paperwork was processed so we could enjoy a few weeks in Los Roques!
So, we decided to do what a lot of people do and just cruise through the islands without checking in anywhere and hope we don't get caught. We'll have to stay clear of populated places like Grand Roque, and hopefully we can stay "off the radar" for a few weeks while enjoying these beautiful islands. But, it's funny that so often governments spend a bunch of money to promote tourism in their country and then have procedures that discourage tourism or, in our case, keep us from being "legal" and from paying the tourism fees they'd otherwise collect from us.
Los Roques, Venezuela...you can check in, but you can't check out.
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Yeah - we made it! 61 1/2 hours, 383 miles later after leaving Dominica, we dropped the hook at Sarqui Island, Los Roques, Venezuela. A full rainbow and a school of dolphins marked our departure into the gentle seas and waves. But not for long...as soon as we got away from the lee of Dominica, Scappatella turned into a bucking bronco! It was one PUKE-OH sail for the first 2 days. We averaged 8 to 15 knots of wind, and seas were 6' to start. Pretty tame-sounding, but the waves came at short (6 second) intervals which made for a pretty rough ride. And it was a following sea (waves coming from behind), not our favorite motion. The boat felt like a hobby horse with a few springs loose...a back and forth, side to side motion; sometimes kind of violent. A few times we were "rail-to-rail", i.e. the boat went from heeling all the way over one way with the rail in the water to heeling all the way over the other way on the opposite rail, all in quick second. Throw in some forward and back motion, and you get the idea. Puke-oh!
Louis and I traded 3-hour watches. After my 1st watch I tried to grab a few hours of sleep down below to no avail (and I can sleep anywhere!). The main was slapping/banging around, the sounds reverberating VERY LOUDLY thru the mast into our salon (living room); bottles, jars, pots and pans clanged around as they bashed into each other; stuff we didn't tie down well enough got thrown around the cabin; and I would be thrown from side-to-side while trying to sleep amidst all of this NOISE.
After shoving towels, sarongs and what-not in between all of the loud objects and taking down the mainsail, things quieted down a bit and we both able to sleep. The seas mellowed a bit the 2nd day, but the motion remained somewhat and doing simple tasks like cutting a tomato with a very sharp knife became a bit of a hair-raising feat.
Midway through the 2nd day, we both got into the "groove" eating, cooking, sleeping, reading a bit, listening to music, daydreaming, etc. in between watching for other boats, monitoring our charts and trimming the sails and time passed pretty quickly. Before we knew it we arrived! Now we're all alone in this spectacular anchorage, seemingly in the middle of no-where. Just the lull of the waves on the beautiful white sand beaches, the birds calling in the distance, and...wait, what's that... oh no, a day charter boat with about 20 people on it! And, of course, they're anchoring RIGHT next to us. Where the hell did that come from! Turns out this is a pretty popular spot for people from the Venezuelan mainland to come for the weekend. Oh well, off to find a more secluded anchorage
For the sailors, or anyone else interested . Louis here,I figure I'd throw around some sailing terms, because after all, isn't that a big part of sailing, the jargon?! Anyway, we used the reaching pole for the fist time on this crossing to fly our 135% Genoa. Most of our sailing so far has been close hauled. We used a fore guy, after guy, (not to be confused with my guy) and topping lift to secure the pole. Ran the sheet through the clip and had a set up that was reefable,tackable,and gybeable, so long as your lazy sheet was long enough to make it around the extra length from the reaching pole. We ended up sailing with the Genoa only since the Mainsail, even with a preventer, was slapping so badly because of the rolling and light airs. We have a mast furling main so it was causing the furling foil to slam on the interior of the mast. We were going for a wing on wing set up but the point of sail and following seas or maybe our inexperience???? didn't allow it. Actually, this boat loves to sail with the headsail only. We also used the Monitor Wind Vane self steering unit for the first time. Worked great!
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Well, we've finally got all of our journal entries, etc. and a few photos & "videos" uploaded to our new blog. The fast, solid internet connection in Dominica and The Saints (1000kbps...better than what we get in Coloma) has enabled me to get quite a bit of work done in between sight-seeting & such. All of this was done from a wireless connection we're able to pick up on the boat, anchored a few hundred feet offshore. Amazing.
Over the next few weeks, however, our only connection with "the outside world" will be via our single-sideband (SSB). We're heading to a fairly remote part of the Caribbean, Los Roques and Los Aves, two groups of Venezuelan islands in the southern Caribbean. We set sail this afternoon(Tuesday) and will spend the next 3 days sailing downwind to Los Roques, a 375-mile journey. But technology is pretty amazing, as supposedly we can still update this blog from our "sailmail" account, an email communication system which utilizes SSB radio, aka "ham radio". It's very slow; comparable to using a 110 to 4800 baud modem (remember those days?), dependent upon all sorts of factors like weather, time of day, equipment, etc.
Anyway, hope you enjoy our blog! You can be notified of updates by clicking on the RSS feed button - if you don't know about RSS look for details under the "Other Stuff" listing. Or just check back when you feel like it. (We won't be sending email updates, of course).
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