Good afternoon y'all! Hard to believe we've been in Antigua for more than a month! It's been very busy since after our arrival November 6th. That and being naturalized third world digital citizens are the reason of our long silence. Never before were Digicel, Google-Fi and even local onshore wi-fi outfits - priced 3X than Grenada and working as badly - the object of such medieval anathemas as the ones that have been uttered from onboard Boundless. But I digress.

We got our PCR tests done in Carriacou last November 2, for a whopping 150 USD/ea. It was unclear when we'd get the results back and we were worried we wouldn't be able to show them in Antigua within the required timeframe - no later than a week from issue. Neither we wanted to miss an upcoming good weather window to sail. Luckily we got the results back fairly quickly so after provisioning, clearing out of Grenada and spending one last night at our beloved Sandy Island, we were ready to go.

The day before leaving Grenada, Renny our seafood and fresh produce "dealer" stopped by while we were in Tyrell Bay. We bought a chunk of delicious watermelon from him and we wished him the best with his business, including seeing it expanded into "Renny, Inc." at our next visit, which he found very funny.

We set sail for Antigua at around 7am on November 5th, full main and genoa on a starboard tack. We kept this combo for the whole passage although with a lot of sail trimming and a little reefing to adjust to changes in wind direction and strength. The forecasts spoke of increasingly lighter winds and we thought we'd be doing a lot of motoring. Scratch that. We got plenty of wind from the start, especially crossing the channels separating the various islands. We averaged 10 knots mostly on a close reach. We touched 14.5 and, during the night, 15.7 knots! And that, ladies and gentlemen, is fast.

Not a soul on the ocean except us, the flying fish (some can stay out of the water for so long that we started giving their "long jumps" grades like in gymnastics: 9.5! 9.0!) and the birds. The boobies for example seem to really enjoy hitching a ride on the air stream created by Boundless as she sails. Maybe her water displacement also stirs the fish under the surface making it easier for the birds to catch them. Either way, to watch them as they showcase their excellent aerial skills can be quite exhilarating.

At night Orion was very bright, really popping out of the dark sky and rivaling the twinkling man-made lights that laced the shores of Dominica in gold and amber. Later in the night, a loud "bang" over our heads was a gentle notification that a mainsheet boom strap had just broken. Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, the Cap'n jumped on the roof to rig a temporary fix. Fun fact: after landfall, in between putting stuff away and envisioning hot coffee and scrambled eggs, we found the broken piece of strap, which had been forgotten on the roof, still lying exactly where it had been left! It surprised us a little given the amount of wind (and some seas!) we just had and even if the First Law of Catamarans clearly states that no unattended object will roll onto a floor or over the side from any given surface.

Things got quieter as we passed behind Guadeloupe the morning of November 6th, so we switched to motor-sailing. The light winds of the forecast had finally caught up with us and we were also experiencing a lull created by the island mass. Squally clouds, some reminiscent of cotton candy, some like sheer veils or jellyfish with delicate tentacles of falling rain, soaked the colors of dawn and gave the hills of the island an enchanted feel. We left the lull - and the northwest end of Guadeloupe - behind once into the Antigua Channel and made a slight right turn to get into English Harbour. We did 270 nautical miles in 29 hours anchor to anchor, or "that will get you to church on time!".

The very last part of the passage was punctuated by somewhat frustrating phone calls with the harbor authorities whom we had called to inform of our arrival and make sure that we were clear to enter. "Nobody told me anything" was the message we got, together with an "invitation" to enter from St. John's, the commercial harbor in Antigua's capital city by the same name, about eighteen nautical miles north west of English Harbour. Ugh, I think we were all sailed up at that point. Luckily everything was cleared up with the help of our agent, whom we had hired to deal with the various procedures and bureaucratic requirements, and we could enter English Harbour as planned.

As you get into port at the end of any passage you immediately notice how quiet it all becomes. It's like someone toggled the audio switch from nautical wall of sound (wind, seas, boat interacting with both) to the sound of silence. English Harbor in particular felt like the quietest place we had been in a while (and Antigua Slipway, its boatyard, was closed, so no power tools were on). The better to enjoy its visual charms: one look at the beautifully reconstructed Nelson's Dockyard, with the impressive Pillars in front of the Admiral's Inn, and you feel like you're back in the late eighteenth century, when this was Britain's main naval station in the Lesser Antilles. A look at the Cruising Guide to the Leeward Islands reveals that Nelson was "stationed here in 1784 under Sir Richard Hughes, who had recently blinded himself in one eye while chasing a cockroach with a fork" (I hate when that happens...) and eventually took over as Naval Commander. He never quite "connected" with Antigua and its ruling class, nonetheless the dockyard was eventually named after him.

Back to the XXI century, we stowed the sails, coiled the lines, were visited by the health official who took our temperatures and declared us officially healthy (he turned a blind eye on the check mark for Medical Conditions->Other->Chronic Italian Craziness). In the afternoon, after meeting briefly with our agent for an additional exchange of papers and to get a Digicel SIM card which she was very nice to go purchase for us, we took a short walk around, including a stop by one of the chandleries, or "Toys'r 'Us" for marine folks. We also located a hair salon as we both were long overdue for hair maintenance.

Most businesses are open on the island but things are slow due to Covid. It seems as if the fact that this isn't going to be the "traditional" high season for Antigua hasn't quite sunk in yet. (It's worth noting, however, that if you want to get any work done on your boat, almost everybody tells you how busy they are, no matter if it's a last moment request or something you've scheduled with them months in advance...). On the other hand, a lot of super-yachts are pouring in here for the holidays and they are bound to bring some business.

We spent a week or so at anchor in English Harbor, partly to sit out another tropical wave - the one that later turned into Hurricane Eta and wreaked havoc in Central America. It rained in biblical proportions for days and the water in the harbor had turned brown from the rivers water flowing into it! If tropical waves could quip, this one would have said "Avec nous le deluge"!

When the weather finally settled, we sailed eastward to Nonsuch Bay for a weekend change of scenery before spending the following week at a dock at the Slipway. Also, things were starting to get a little crowded due to the Salty Dawg Rally boats coming in from the States. We anchored in Rickett Harbor, Green Island, at the southern entrance of Nonsuch Bay. Snorkeling on part of the reef that extends north of the island was nice, but the treat was to see big sea turtles on a daily basis! Onshore you could see many of the tall and bright yellow stalks which the century plants (Agave Americana) produce at the end of their life cycle. Some of the stalks had also pretty yellow blossoms at the top.

The water here is definitely colder than the 86° Grenadian summer waters we had gotten used to. It's not too big a difference, true, and the Cap'n says he is getting used to it. It's taking me a little longer and I'm not ashamed to admit I went snorkeling in a full wetsuit... that's what happens when your body is short on natural thermal insulating layers!

Once back in English Harbor, brought back by a nice sail on sapphire waters albeit a bit nautical a departure from Green Island - motor sailing into open ocean from sheltered waters and shallower depths, pointing into the wind and chop can make for some exciting conditions! -, we docked at the Slipway the morning after arrival and were there for a week, give or take. The new main sail was installed by the folks at North Sails with help from the Captain and that was the thing that required the most time, including adjustments, tweaking, etc. Also, work was done to the starboard lazarette hatch to prevent water from leaking in. This is the lazarette that hosts our water maker, so it's... an important location. Cap'n also took care of a loose screw responsible for some leaking from the starboard hatch area in the salon (good thing it was such a small culprit, otherwise he was getting ready to re-bed the whole hatch) and projects were taken care of as it's in a boat's nature to generously provide you with even when you don't need them (but now we have, for example, freshly installed, brand new, tone-on-tone toilet seat bumpers, which are the envy of the entire marina).

Off the dock and to Falmouth Harbour, English Harbour's neighbor on its west side and as prime a piece of marine real estate as English if you're looking for a safe place where to park your galleon fleet or from where to teach a lesson to those Spaniards once and for all. The listing describes it as "easily defensible, with immediate access to the trade winds, yet protected enough to careen a ship and be safe in a hurricane. Open House Sunday 1-3 pm"). Falmouth is very beautiful, and the eye loses itself in capturing its views, natural and man-made: at night, the docks of the Antigua Yacht Club are a forest of immensely tall and lit-up masts.

We were in Falmouth until two days ago, partly at the dock of the Catamaran Club - where we've had a new genoa furler assembled and installed by Antigua Rigging. The genoa itself, which we removed in between arrival and unleashing of the biblical flood, was at North Sails in the meantime, being done a once-over before being put back in place. After careful examination and much thought, we'll also have a new genoa and staysail made. Then: put Cap'n up the mast a couple of times to insert some screws in the old staysail furler... and to install a new masthead wind vane - check; run miscellaneous errands on land - check; take a look at the big yachts while passing by with the dinghy - check; couple of nice lunches onshore - check; removed staysail for North Sails to pick up and measure - check; food shopping and haircut - check. So what do you do on a boat the whole day?

And finally Friday we hoisted the new main, the old genoa (something old something new) and sailed west and then north, all the way to Deep Bay, with the remains of Fort Barrington perched up the hill, the shipwreck, a small part of which is clearly visible outside the water, and...tourists from the beach resort on jet skis...I'll say no more. The sail was very pleasant, mostly on a broad reach, averaging 10kn, and it gave us the chance to test the new main. It looks like there will be some adjustments: its foot is a little too long and we'll probably need a new bag for it, as stowing it in the existing one doesn't quite work. Also there are some wrinkles up top, which will be cured by tightening the battens. Other than that it works great!

Our current plan is to stay here in the... Upper West Side of the island for the holidays and gradually make our way back down to Falmouth, doing some day stops. Molto bene. I'm gonna leave you now and go pull out my Christmas decorations. Nothing crazy, just a few accents. Although there are definitely boats around which are more decorated and lit up than The Christmas Store!

I have to apologize for the length of this post but you don't have to read it all at once, I usually recommend one paragraph after each meal.😊 As usual, I invite you to visit our Gallery and check the Map if you're having one of those "Yes, but where exactly are they?" moments. Also, a big thank you for your comments and emails which we truly enjoy reading and the Cap'n and I wish you and your loved ones the Happiest of Holidays!

"Great weather for ducks" is a very funny expression inherited from my mother-in-law. She used it when referring to rainy weather and comes handy any time we need throw a little humor at adverse weather, as it's been the case these last few days. A big tropical wave has been going through and it's been a little nautical down here: squalls, lots of rain (by the way: craving an impromptu outdoors shower? Stay right there in our front cockpit, just about where the boom meets the mast, as we hoist the main sail after a squall. Guaranteed plenty of water pouring over you from inside the sail or your money back!), wind gusts to 30-31 knots, a great addition to your "Relaxation & Sleep Ambient Sounds" playlist. This is definitely more than a tropical wave, as you can see here , hover on the red X for details. Even the forecasts had initially underestimated it.

Due to the high winds Boundless has been doing a fair amount of jerking, poor thing, as the mooring we are tied to has a short scope, mostly rope, no chain. And because unlike other types of cats we are not set up for a bridle, our mooring line goes over our port anchor roller instead which, to make a long story short,ends up being a lot harder on our chafe gear. Schematics detailing all I've just said are available upon request.😊

The good thing is, the tropical wave has been moving along and we're experiencing the back of it now. It looks like we'll see fairer and drier skies next week, which is gonna be nice also in preparation our departure for Antigua.

In the meantime, we'll just... enjoy a little more great weather for ducks. Or for pelicans, for that matter, or boobies, as not even severe weather seems to stop these brave birds from scouting the waters surrounding us for fish! A bird's gotta eat, after all!

That's it for now, let's all stay dry and Happy Halloween!

Carissimi,

first of all let me give a big shoutout to Renny, the young gentleman in the picture. Renny is a very sociable and entrepreneurial fisherman (and dj!) from Carriacou who has been getting us the most amazing fresh produce - and lobster! - when we couldn't get it ourselves. Renny has just upgraded to a bigger boat and stopped by earlier today to let us check it out.

Next order of business: departures. It appears that our long sojourn in the Grenadian territories may be coming to an end. It feels a little funny, as we've been here a very long time, lockdown and what not, and you definitely start building routines and habits and a mental album of memories. Hurricane season ends officially next Sunday, 11/1. Our plan of record is to get a PCR test next Monday, November 2, here in Carriacou, clear out after getting the results and set sail to Antigua possibly by the end of the week, as for a Negative PCR test to be considered current by the authorities it must not be older than a week.

Why Antigua? Because it's pretty, duh!, but it is also a big yachting center, with all that comes with being one: from the quality of the work in the boatyards to well-stocked supermarkets, etc. While there we'll have our main sail replaced with the new one that was specced in St. Martin last January and the genoa furler. These are the priority items but there'll be also some interior painting touch-ups and various other bits and bobs together with general TLC. And we'll get the chance to check out the island's beautiful beaches and other natural features.

Normally we'd be a little wary of being in Antigua in high season: sailboat rallies mega-yachts, boat shows... it can be very busy. But Covid 19 has caused all of the above to be reduced to a minimum, when not canceled altogether, and a quiet season is expected. Having said that, being that the Covid rules for clearing into countries of the CARICOM (CARIbbean COMmunity), even when you're already inside such countries, can be unclear and the need to make revenue off tourism hard to reconcile with keeping tight safety rules, we'll have to keep our eyes - and our minds - open. This is also why we'll be sailing straight to Antigua, as to stop at other islands along the way and risk having to go through the same or different version of the health routines one or more times with feeling is...not a desirable outcome.

On a good weather window, it'll probably take us 30-35 hours to get to Antigua from Carriacou - where we are now -. Leaving at early lights, a full day and night sailing, arrival before dark the day after. There will be coffee consumption!

Other than that, not too many changes since our last entry. You find us exactly where you left us at the last blog entry, off Sandy Island. "Wait, wha? You mean you haven't moved at all in more than a month?". Yes and no. We've definitely spent six weeks here at anchor, feeling really guilty about not doing more, sailing more, working more on the boat etc. for about 10 secs per sense of guilt occurrence. One morning we sailed to Petit Martinique, also part of Grenada, a very small island about two and a half miles off Carriacou. It didn't quite sweep our feet off, to quote one of my famous malapropisms as speaker of English as second language, so we changed course and sailed nice and fast to Saline Island, a small private island (currently for sale if you're interested) between Grenada and Carriacou. Saline has a small and protected anchorage, and is faced by an equally striking small island called Frigate, as it recalls in its shape the bird by the same name. We happened to beat another boat, a smaller monohull - or half-a-boat, as we like to call them - to the best spot in the anchorage and heard the boat's captain complain to a friend on the radio that "The cat beat me to it!", very funny.

We spent a couple of nights there and got very good snorkeling off one of the reefs closest to the boat. Another very promising area snorkeling-wise was more exposed to the sea action and, being the conditions a little rough on the day we chose to go snorkeling - not to mention a rather strong current - it wouldn't have made for comfortable swimming. On a calmer day I hoisted the Cap'n up the mast for his traditional check-that-everything-works-fine above deck level. It was a wonderful bluebird day, so he was able to combine the functional aspect of his ascent with the leisure one (enjoying amazing views from the top floor).

From Saline to Sandy again for a while, which we were glad to find as we left it: the ocean its usual gorgeousness and the skies offering varied qualities of drama every day, any time of day. Amazing and huge shape-shifting clouds, crazy colors at sunset, majestic squalls, all punctuated by the flights of the birds scouting for fish. Then, about ten days ago we zippitydoodahed back to Woburn in Grenada to run some errands on land (land? What's that?) and we motored into well-protected Egmont last weekend to put some distance between us and a rather nautical couple of days with big squalls and high wind gusts.

And finally yesterday, Tuesday, we set sail from Egmont back to Sandy Island. Definitely a "never a dull moment" kind of sail: we were close hauled all the time and we changed sails 9 times to cover 32 miles!! We had wind, no wind, lots of wind, rain, no rain... it definitely kept us busy, but now we're so buff and wind-beaten we're ready for the cover shot on Sailing Magazine.

Well, I think that's it for the moment. As it's tradition, I invite you to visit our Gallery and check the map for a detailed track of our movements. Thank you for reading and for your comments and be well!!

Ciao a tutti!

So, we're still stuck in the West Indies... alright, alright, go ahead and say it..."Stuck in the West Indies? Really? That must be awful...". Well, if, say, organized systems (and I don't mean as in the development stage of a hurricane with the same name), functional processes, clear-cut rules and regulations, up-to-date information and well-cared for civic structures are your thing, then it can be pretty awful. Otherwise I see your point: how can you feel "stuck" in a place whose best features include ocean blue, beaches white, sugar and spice (nutmeg and cinnamon in particular) and everything that's nice (local chocolate is excellent)? So, irony accepted. As a little reminder, being "stuck" here simply means we're waiting out hurricane season (for obvious safety reasons and our insurance won't cover losses from a named storm north of 12° 40', if you're even in a condition to claim them at that point, that is...) and we are limiting our sailing movements as we monitor the Covid 19 traveling rules for the islands (and the world, really), which are always... in continuous development.

So for the last couple of weeks and more (my apologies for the vagueness, but the need to keep accurate track of time seems to fade to the background on occasions; partly it's age, partly the location), we've been at a mooring off Sandy Island, off the west coast of Carriacou. We sailed here from Grenada, where we spent most of August hopping between our familiar hoods and were waiting for a new freezer install to be completed, including adding a second plate which has made a huge difference in its performance (it took several sessions of refrigerant injections to "get it going", think mad seasoned celebrity wanting more and more cosmetic fillers - but what eventually did the trick was tweaking the expansion valve...don't fall asleep, there will be a quiz at the end). It's been working great, knock on wood, and we've been able to stash meat, fish and bread no problem. Most important, we've been able to going back to make iced - rather than room temperature - caffè freddo in the afternoon!! You gotta focus on your priorities!

Once in Carriacou, we spent a night in busy Tyrell Bay (which, in charming Caribbean fashion, is spelled differently depending on what sign or building you're looking at). There were many boats at the moorings, we're guessing some out of quarantine from Saint George's, Grenada, and others doing quarantine in the area of the bay thick with mangroves. Tyrell is nice but the presence of commercial docks, a main road not far from the water, end-of-the-road boats and a general sense of the...rusty, both literal and metaphorical, (not to mention a gasoline stain with its characteristic iridescence on the water surface that welcomed us after we laid anchor) casts a "Heart of Darkness" tinge to it all. We were outta there the morning after and came here.

We're not sure if we like Sandy Island yet, that's why we're still here 😉: a long and curvy sand-spit with lots of palm trees and surrounded by turquoise waters. Fish-feeding frenzies throughout the day (unfortunately I don't have a visual for this, so if you're not familiar with this type of event, here's an example in larger scale)bring together birds of all kinds: pelicans, boobies, sooty terns whose white breast turns aqua color as they fly over the water and geometric frigade birds which look like flying origami... At times the feeding takes place around our boat so we get to see all the action up close, including the motions and sounds in the water as the fish jump in and out or sprint through it. And the birds flights are amazing - think Caribbean Hitchcock - including the "bomb diving" by the pelicans, which is particularly impressive... unless of course you happen to be the fish at the other end of the bomb dive...

Swimming and snorkeling have been excellent. The water is the clearest we've seen in a while and makes you want to spend hours in it. The Cap'n has even come up with the idea of sitting on a couple of our life jackets - our version of the popular foam noodles - for when you feel just like floating around. It's been ideal, especially during the extremely hot, zero-wind and ultra-flat calm days we've been seeing at times, partly a consequence of the various hurricanes and hurricane wannabes that can suck in all the wind for miles. Yesterday, one of such days, back from a quick errand into the town of Hillsborough - which had to be scheduled for early in the afternoon, when the last thing you want to do is to be on shore, we literally went from dinghy to boat to drop down our stuff to swimsuit to sitting in the water on the life-jackets for the next hour or so.

Snorkeling both at the reef off the island northern tip and also at the reef at nearby Jack Adan Island NE of us, we've seen many juveniles of different species, including butterfly fish, damsel fish, rock beauty...then a population of trumpet fish - some really big, more like trombone fish if you ask me - cowfish, trunk fish, sand divers... schools of bright blueheads and wrasses. A small wave breaking against the reef seen from under water created a cloud of vivid white, and against such background, schools of gobies looked like long ribbons draped around it.

There are many varieties of beautiful and sculptural coral heads, mostly in excellent conditions: no "bleaching" or other damage from warming waters... hopefully they won't have to see it. Talking about warm waters, one morning we swam our way to the reef through small patches of sargassum, and what was new to us is how much heat can be trapped in an area of water blanketed by this rather problematic type of algae . One moment you're there thinking oh, what a nice and warm undercurrent I've just found, and the next you realize it's no undercurrent and this is what a spaghetti must feel like in boiling water! Can't be too good for the marine life...

A little more about marine life: an octopus lives inside one of the holes of the big concrete block to which our mooring is chained to (I've bashed Caribbean moorings many times in the past but these ones are checked regularly and seem to have a strong hold. We've been using moorings a little more frequently - when we trust their solidity, that is - because, especially after being still for some time, the anchor rode comes up be full of weed etc., and it's a bit of a pain having to clean it as it goes back into its locker. Although it would make good material for the tv show "Dirty Jobs"). I've seen it trying to pull a rather large and inhabited shell inside the hole and kept thinking maybe he was redecorating and that was its marine-themed coffee table?😂 I know, extreme heat can play tricks on your thinking patterns.

Also, during a very still night - an aftermath of hurricane n.5, not to be confused with the famous Chanel n.5, named Nana, who had dropped a big squall with thunder, lightning and all that jazz as a business card on her way to Belize - under a full moon and with the sea as serene as the corresponding Mare Tranquillitatis on the lunar surface, the water was so clear that we could see the shadow of our mast sharply defined on the bottom (about 14 ft) and a little later, as we kept grokking the almost supernatural atmosphere, a school of stingrays swimming very close to each other emerged from seemingly out of nowhere, with silent and elegant movements. We discreetly pointed a flashlight at them for a better look, and it was like following a group of ballerinas with a light as they twirled and leaped on the stage.

Stargazing has been great. Scorpio and Sagittarius have been a predominant sight for most of August and, as September unfolds, Pegasus, Cassiopeia, Hercules and Cygnus (and Orion, for those earliest risers amongst us) make their entrance. But the fact is that in the right conditions (new moon and as little man-made light as possible, for instance) many other stars and celestial bodies are visible to the eye, together with the more well-known and beautiful constellations. And did I mention the shooting stars? I was actually impressed at how much and how sharply our boat binoculars can capture of the night sky, my only complaint is that they should also have a screen capture function.

To catch several glimpses of the Neowise comet speeding away from the Earth while in Grenada in August was very special. We were able to see her both from Calivigny and Port Egmont, as she proceeded along her track at what looked like an...andante moderato 😊 pace, whereas she was actually traveling at a mean 40 miles per second! Her next stop in this part of the galaxy is gonna be in 6,800 years... it does make one think, doesn't it?

Recently we've been spending a little less time outside at sunset and after dark, as a brand of small and obnoxious mosquitoes comes out to party. Oh well, this too shall pass and we actually get some lovely "cutouts" of starry sky looking from our (screened) hatches.

Molto bene. I'm gonna stop the blabla and put together some pictures in the Gallery for your visual amusement. Circumstances allowing (wi-fi, weather, etc) I will post another music video. In case you've missed it or you need a quick music fix, scroll down to the entry previous to this one and you'll find one.

Before I close, I'm going to share with you the current map of the National Hurricane Center for the latest hurricane snapshot. Paulette is whacking Bermuda and Sally is cozying up in the Panhandle. Can you believe we've had already twenty between hurricanes, tropical storms and miscellaneous systems already, it's crazy! And peak season has just begun! Did you know that if they run out of the 21 names selected for the storms at the beginning of the season, letters of the Greek alphabet will be used instead? We better refresh our alpha beta gamma... and keep monitoring developments.

In the meantime, thanks for reading, for your fabulous comments (this website doesn't let us reply to them directly from the blog page, but we do read them!) and... καλίνιξα!😊🇬🇷

Ciao a tutti!
In a nutshell:

- lots of rain, squalls and rainbows.

- successful new freezer install, yay! It seems to be working, knock on wood. The previous freezer shed its mortal coils - and some thawed shrimp - some time ago. I may be repeating myself but fridge and freezer both win the Academy Award for fussiest pieces of equipment on Boundless. Mention them to the Cap'n and his face will turn into one of those demon masks from the Kabuki theatre.

- monitoring weather systems that eventually develop into hurricanes - or hopefully not. Gonzalo blew over us right on my birthday (I've always wanted a hurricane for my birthday, yay) but luckily it was a non-event, more like a giant-sized Sneezy from Snowhite blowing its nose on your head (yuk!) and generating a bunch of wind and rain. No harm to people, boats, land, etc. although obviously everybody prepped the boat for the worst. We had double anchors out - which was an opportunity to take the second anchor out one of the mast locker and re-organize such useful space - taking down the awnings, tying up the main, etc. The Cap'n even helped a tragically undersized - as far as anchor size and scope go - Catalina monohull upwind of us to re-anchor. He put the Catalina anchor chain into our dinghy, dropped it at a safer distance and even towed the boat!

- receiving a largish shipment in Grenada of various needed items from the US. Let's just say Homer's Odyssey pales in comparison.

- working on creative stuff:



- I know, I know... you want to see more of the grit of boat living, the gear, the sweat, the hard work, the drama, the sail hoisting, the " YOU GOTTA WATCH THIS! 10 KN WIND AND WE ARE DRAGGING!" of all those sailing YouTube vids... sorry. You get Schubert instead.😊

Thank you for all your comments to the last post (we cannot reply to them from this interface, bear with us), it was like having a little online party with all of you! I will post some pictures in the next days. Please be safe...

Greetings y'all!

Here is one of my oldies but goodies recorded for a longstanding and fun (virtual) jam here in Grenada! And, given that with the rainy season we get to see a lot of fabulous rainbows down here, what better song? Baci!