Any time I've set foot anywhere in the Caribbean, I've felt like I've walked into a massive STOP sign. Slowing down to "island time"? All true. It's like embracing an ooohhhmmm stillness, an avoidance of any motion involving of your limbs if not absolutely necessary. The need to rest after a week passage and the disrupted sleep pattern it involves has something to do with it; so does the adjustment to the tropical climate after months in bitter cold latitudes. And ultimately it's this whole combination of slightly cool slightly warm breeze on the water, in the contrast with the brutal heat on land, the color of the water, like some crazed princess poured her jewelry case of sapphires and emeralds into the water (one of the Kardashians?😉) and the blinding, powerful sun sapping your will...
Since we've made landfall in Saint John (that was only the 18th of November, and it already seems like we've been here forever, another aspect of "island time") we've actively worked at fulfilling our Caribbean check list, including (but not limited to):
- wearing light clothing, and in no more than one layer i.e., ratty t-shirts, shorts and swimsuit, flip-flops.
- all of the above worn OUTSIDE without turning into a cryogenic experiment.
- enjoying early onset of dreadlocks (compare with early onset of
Cousin Itt hair caused by exposure to strong winds).
- swimming, swimming and did I mention swimming, and/or just spending time soaking in these fabulous waters.
- snorkelling! Recent highlight: swimming with a sea turtle, which made me feel totally like in the scene of the famous movie
Finding Nemo.
- stargazing. When you're away from artificial light pollution, a starry sky is an unparalleled show, one I could look at forever as long as I have Aleve for my neck the day after.
Yesterday we also said arrivederci to fabulous friend Fraser, of Fogo Island days and before, who traveled all the way from Newfoundland - ok, it's not that she traveled on foot, but wait till they stop running the ferries due to bad weather up there and even your weekend outing can turn into a loong journey - to do the passage with us and hang out for a few days afterwards. As a former hard-core monohull sailor who's sailed around the world including to places you and I'd be just as content looking at on a hi-res National Geographic desktop image, she was very excited to be on a catamaran and has been a fun, knowledgeable companion and crew, not to mention her yummy contributions to the cooking!
We haven't spent much time on land, except for a bite of lunch and ice-cream, dropping off Fraser at the ferry dock, basic provisioning and a quick look at the shops in St. John's Cruz Bay.
We haven't spent much time on land, except for a bite of lunch and ice-cream, dropping off Fraser at the ferry dock, basic provisioning and a quick look at the shops in St. John's Cruz Bay.
We're currently in Coral Bay, southern coast of St. John, where the familiar beauty of the scenery is mottled with boats mostly damaged by recent hurricanes, laying at anchor some, laying on one side and aground others. Glints of better sailing days they've hade are still visible behind the cracks in the wood, the bent fittings and spreading rust, which makes it even sadder... It was interesting to read more about
boat salvaging and a
a big marina project here in Coral Bay (due to painfully slow wi-fi I'm having a hard time posting the direct link to the document protesting - justifiably so - the building of a marina for big yachts here but you can find it browsing the Community Council site).
On a different note, after nautical miles and miles of loyal service, our auto pilot decided to die just after we arrived in St. John... (a bit like the "Cadi" in the famous movie
The Blues Brothers) or, as it turns out, just have an out-of-the-body experience, if such thing applies to autopilots. In fact, after many phone calls with Furuno, accurate disassembling and careful checking of all components, temporary resigning to having to upgrade the whole system, tests running, the Captain's work-at-it-till-you fix-it approach and eventually the mother of all master resets, it decided to come back to life. Also, the mainsail came unstitched at the clew during passage, which prompted a busy and successful stitching session (good thing it didn't involve me, as I couldn't repair a torn pair of jeans if I tried... and why would I anyway since torn jeans are all the rage 😂).
Off to make some lunch and stay tuned for more pics!