A Sail of Two Idiots

by Renee Petrillo

  Of course, we had to visit the Brimstone Hill Fortress, which was as impressive up close as it was when we had motored under it a few days before. It’s worth getting the electronic guide and storyteller. We then thought we were headed for the southeast peninsula and its white beaches, only to miss the turn and end up on the other side of the island going north. Um, okay, no problem.

  We looked at the map and noticed that Ottley’s Plantation was coming up, so we turned in—just in time to run out of gas. Oops. We momentarily forgot about our fuel problem, though, when we saw the grounds and the view. Wow! While we were oohing and ahhing and taking it all in, we ran into the owner/manager and told him our predicament. The next thing we knew, his landscaping staff was siphoning fuel from their mower and putting it in our tank. Thanks, guys!

  By now it was time for a sundowner, so we headed downtown to the capital. We were surprised when someone called our names from above—who knew we were there? It was Mike and Kim from Child’s Play, last seen at a parade on St. Martin! Soon enough we were imbibing together, and Michael was getting a nice slimy aloe massage from a local—um—masseuse. It looked disgusting, but it made for a great picture.

  We used up the last of our moped hours the next morning by making our way toward that elusive peninsula to the southeast. How could an island the size of St. Kitts (about 23 miles long and 5 miles wide) have so much open land? It was like the Serengeti out there and just as dry. Green (vervet) monkeys were everywhere. What a blast.

  We didn’t stop until we scooted down every road we encountered before reluctantly returning the bike.

  LESSON 81: PLAY BIKERS FOR A DAY If you want to “feel” an island, a moped can be the way to go, if you have the stomach for it. If the island roads weren’t too curvy and were wide enough, we gave it a shot. Mopeds, as opposed to cars, make it easier to get around potholes, maneuver through traffic, and take in the sights (because you’re going slower). Locals feel that they can talk to you, you can smell your surroundings (both a bad and a good thing at times), and it’s easy to blend in. Mopeds use less gas too. Yes, if you get hit it’s more dangerous than being in a car, but that’s why you’re paying attention! If motorbiking is for you, then St. Kitts is an island to do it on (just remember to stay left!).

  Nevis—The First Time

  We had one more day before our guided volcano hike, so we decided to take a day sail the 12 miles southeast to Nevis. It was one of our best sails. We went a steady 8 knots with the wind right where we wanted it (on our beam) from anchor up to anchor down (about 1¼ hours) off Pinney’s Beach by the Four Seasons Resort (north of Charlestown). The water was beautiful, the sail was easy, and the Nevis beaches were alluring.

  We even got a welcome from the Nevis water police when they motored out to us while Michael was diving on the anchor. They told Michael he was swimming too far from shore. We looked at them strangely and told them that we weren’t swimming but were checking our anchor. We thanked them for their concern, and they left. Guess it was nice that they were looking out for us.

  We hung out at Sunshine’s Beach Bar and tried their famous Killer Bee rum drink while talking with Sweet Pea, a hair braider. (No, neither Michael nor I had our hair done.) After a relaxing afternoon, we had a flawless sail back to St. Kitts. What a perfect day.

  Back to St. Kitts

  For our volcano hike and final day on St. Kitts, we first had to motor from White House to Basseterre at 6 a.m. to meet our guide. The weather was chilly and rainy, so we decked ourselves out in rain gear. The tour truck then proceeded to pick up some Marriott guests who were dressed as though they were going to the beach—bikini tops and brand-new strappy sandals.

  It poured all the way to the mountain. The open-air truck had plastic flaps to protect us, but the zippers leaked. By the time we got to the trailhead, everyone was soaked and cold. Well, everyone but Michael and me and two other boaters who had worn their rain gear too. Nice and toasty.

  We slipped and slithered up the mountain from 8 a.m. until we reached the gusty and cloudy top, and then slid to the bottom by 4 p.m. It took so long because people wearing sandals take a long time to hike in the mud. You can’t say we didn’t earn our rum punches. On the way back, we took pity on the least dressed of the bunch and sat where the truck zippers were leaking most. Quack!

  We really enjoyed St. Kitts and placed the island as a definite contender in the island-as-home search.

  Nothing! I’m pretty sure this was a record. We had gone two weeks without anything breaking down. Wahoo!

  Nevis as a Launching Pad to Antigua

  The rainy weather we experienced on St. Kitts would last awhile, but we wanted to stage ourselves for the 55-mile leap to Antigua. If we went to Nevis, we’d be positioned and ready to go once conditions improved.

  We were having yet another fantastic sail, gliding along at 8 knots, when all of a sudden we slowed to 4 knots. We were between the two islands and knew there could be current there, but 4 knots’ worth? We floundered for about a half hour and refused to turn on the engines. We had wind, we were only 2 miles away, and we were determined to sail all the way to Pinney’s Beach on Nevis. We were staring off toward St. Kitts wondering whether we had made any headway at all since the slowdown when we spotted a whale north of us between the two islands in an area called The Narrows. A whale—right in the cut! See what happens when you dawdle a bit? While watching our new friend frolic nearby, we happened to glance down and notice some Clorox containers trailing out of Jacumba’s backside. Well, duh.

  We had snagged ourselves on a crab/fishing pot (or vice versa) and that’s what had slowed us down, not a 4-knot, never-ending monster current. Because we hadn’t been running the engines, the line wasn’t completely entangled in our propellers, but Michael still had to dive in and send it on its way.

  This time, two days after we had dropped anchor in the exact same place we had been before, our welcoming committee came out and told us that we couldn’t anchor there anymore. We were told to pick up a newly installed mooring, immediately. Customs had yet to initiate a payment system, so it would be free.

  The moorings extended along both the west and south coasts of Nevis. Because we decided to pick up a mooring a little closer to Charlestown, we were now able to dinghy to the produce market, which was even better than the one on St. Kitts. What we did not find was a Laundromat. We hadn’t seen one since we left St. Martin, so it was becoming a crisis. We ended up having to do three weeks’ worth of laundry, including sheets, in a bucket and then hanging it all in 20-plus knots of wind between rain showers. There was a lot of cursing going on.

  While biding our time, a lesson happened to someone other than us (!). Kim and Mike, on their 42-foot Endeavor monohull, Child’s Play, were moored nearby. They were impatient and anxious to get moving. Lulled by the calm conditions on the leeward side of the island (you know, the out-of-the-wind side), they decided to take a chance that the oceanic reports of general mayhem were wrong. All the marine websites we reviewed depicted small craft advisories for the next three days. We decided that Kim and Mike were nuts and wished them luck.

  We waved good-bye to them as we dinghied to shore, only to see them moored somewhere else upon our return. Turns out they circled back to safety after two hours of nightmare conditions. They ran into seas easily climbing to 12 feet and were buffeted by winds gusting to 50 knots. They lost their steering temporarily (often called a rudder stall) when they heeled so far over that their rudder left the water and then watched in horror as the top of their mast almost hit the sea during a near-roll. Now that’s scary.

  LESSON 82: DON’T BE FOOLED That’s the thing about recommended anchorages; they’re usually protected. The weather can be wreaking havoc with gusty winds and high seas on the windward side while your rum tonic barely splooshes around your glass on the leeward. Don’t be lulled into that calmness and ignore predicted conditions. If you give in to your impatience, you might rationalize doing something really stupid.

/>   LESSON 83: DON’T BE TOO PROUD TO TURN AROUND This is a big one. Forecasters make mistakes, or you can underestimate your capabilities or comfort level, and/or things can break, causing dangerous situations. Safety comes first. Get your butts somewhere safe as fast as possible. If the closest place to you is the port you just left, then go back. If anything, your return will allow you to warn others to stay put.

  The trick to waiting out weather is to make the most of wherever you’re sitting. No matter how many times you’ve visited a place, or how long you’ve been there, there are probably some things you haven’t seen. So go see them!

  We discovered that we were sharing the harbor with the father and son we had hiked with on St. Kitts. They invited us to dinner along with another couple who kept us enthralled with great sailing stories. They’d been everywhere and across two oceans!

  They also liked to hike, so the next morning we found ourselves ascending Nevis’s dormant volcano to the island’s water source (Michael and I were trying to hike the peak of every island). Despite the rain, we had a fun climb, traipsing back down to our boats for a spur-of-the-moment potluck. We invited everyone we knew (more than eight of us) and enjoyed showing around all the catamaran “virgins.” Yep, we had a lot of space, and yep some of it was even empty.

  Finally the storm broke and some of us steered for Antigua, 55 miles to the east, while others aimed toward Guadeloupe on a more southeasterly course.

  Well, nothing exactly, but with all this new rain we were experiencing, we discovered that, although the new hatches were holding up, the side salon window wouldn’t stop crying, and another window in the galley had now gotten into the act. The weather didn’t stay dry long enough to even try to fix them, so things were a bit moist inside.

  23

  A Stowaway on Antigua

  Because Antigua is about 55 miles due east of Nevis, and the winds usually come from the east, going there involves either a lot of tacking or some hard motorsailing directly into the wind. Either way, we would be in for a long day. Yep. Nine hours on the sea to be exact.

  We left Nevis at 6 a.m., right when it was light enough to see little fishing boats and their crab pots, and headed east. As soon as we got around the southeast side of Nevis, we were walloped with 25-knot winds and 6-foot seas. Hey! That’s not what our weather gurus said! This was not dangerous but was sure uncomfortable. The sea and wind direction were causing some serious between-the-hull banging.

  After two hours of hard slogging, we watched Child’s Play veer off to the south. Kim called on the VHF to tell us they couldn’t take it anymore and were going to Montserrat instead. This course to the south would allow them a more comfortable beam reach, and the island was closer than Antigua. We decided to wait another hour to see if the winds and seas meshed with what our weather sources had predicted. Sure enough, in about a half hour the winds dropped to 13 knots and the seas lessened, although they were still choppy. At least the sun was out.

  Upon arriving at 3 p.m., we (Michael) waded through 45 minutes of paperwork (a record) until we could officially say we were on Antigua. In Jolly Harbour, to be exact, on the middle-west side of the island. Jolly good!

  Lest things become too boring, we got word that our adventures had sparked the interest of a relative who wanted to become a long-term guest. Wow—now that was trust! Someone wanted to come live and sail with us. What fun!

  I had met my half-sister, Melissa, only a couple of times over the years (we share a dad), but here was a chance to get to know her better. In her early twenties, almost all of them spent in Virginia, she had come to the same conclusion we had. There had to be more out there—wherever “there” was.

  Perfectly happy to mentor another wanderer, we offered to have her aboard as long as we could all stand one another, and allow her a taste of life outside the “norm.”

  The day Melissa was supposed to arrive, we rented a car and drove around the island. This was different from steering a moped on the left side of the road. The steering wheel was on the opposite side of the car, so we kept going to the wrong side of the road, plus the controls were switched so Michael kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of the turn signals. That was certainly entertaining. It also alerted other drivers that we were clueless, which was a good thing for them to know.

  We spent a lot of time lost, as usual, since all the roads looked the same and the signs were the size of splinters, but we had a good time anyway. Applying LESSON 80, Investigate, we drove around looking at all the anchorages, noting which ones seemed worth visiting and which ones could be skipped.

  After our tour around the island, we checked our e-mails and discovered that Melissa had missed her plane and would be arriving the next day. No problem! We kicked off our shoes, made a couple of gin and tonics for our sundowners, and watched the ash from Montserrat’s volcano, southwest of us, make for a dramatic sunset. A firefly even fluttered around the boat. How enchanting!

  The next morning, since we still had the rental car for half the day, we decided to head to a grocery store. Melissa might want something other than canned food. When we left the store, we were met by a very sad, scared girl who had managed to angle her car just perfectly to hit our car. I give her credit for waiting until we came out to discuss the matter (what are the chances of someone doing that in the States?). We decided that if we scrubbed the paint from her car off ours, the slight dent would be like a shadow and no one would notice. No worries.

  It was almost time to pick up our new crew member, so we needed to hurry and put away our goodies. On the way back to the boat, we noticed a bunch of people on board. Hmm—did we throw a party and forget to attend? Turns out we were dragging! Our worst nightmare had come true. Not only were we not on the boat when it happened, we had been anchored just feet from a rocky cliff. We were incredibly lucky that not only had some passersby seen the problem, so did Kim and Mike from the newly arrived Child’s Play. They were gunning the engines to keep us off the rocks, but they couldn’t figure out our anchor’s bridle system (remember, monohulls are different), so they couldn’t raise the anchor. They were very relieved to see us and vice versa.

  LESSON 84: IGNITION A GO When at anchor, leave your keys in the ignition. If you have an electric anchor windlass, leave that powered on as well. The switch will likely be inside your locked boat and, therefore, inaccessible to anyone trying to save it. Leaving the windlass on doesn’t use energy, so why not? Some boaters may disagree with me, but I stand by my suggestion. Thieves don’t steal sailboats (rob yes—steal no). Most don’t understand the anchoring system, don’t know how to sail, and wouldn’t be able to get away fast on a boat that goes only 5 to 8 knots. But you are likely to drag at some point, and if surrounding boaters can get your anchor up and can motor you away from danger, why not give them the chance to save your home?

  Dragging made no sense. We had already been anchored for four days, and had stayed put through one very windy evening, and then dragged for no apparent reason? How frustrating. We motored to the other side of the harbor and dropped anchor again. Even though we were in seven feet of water, visibility was so bad that we couldn’t tell what the bottom was or whether we were dug in. We tried to drop a second anchor for good measure but discovered that a vital piece was missing (a shackle to attach the anchor to the rode), so we had to give it up because time was running short: We needed to go to the airport to pick up Melissa. But we were now afraid to leave the boat. We asked our friends to keep an eye on her, and off we went. Whatcha gonna do?

  Although I had considered staying with Jacumba, it turned out to be a good thing that I went along to the airport. I can’t say I was surprised when the authorities signaled us over and wanted proof that Melissa was my sister and that she would be staying with us. Although island officials are not big fans of one-way tickets, I’m guessing that the bigger issue was Melissa’s appearance. She looked like a Twilight-film outcast, very pale and gothic (sorry, sis), so I think they wanted to be sure she had
a way off the island. Apparently seeing her leave with two “normal” folks in quick-dry clothing was enough to appease everyone, and off we went.

  While Melissa was intrigued with driving on the left side of the road, and laughed along when the windshield wipers went on instead of the turn signal, she was too tired to appreciate her new surroundings. That worked out great for us because we were too worried about the boat anchor to be very welcoming. We ate a bit, hugged a lot, and called it a night.

  The next day, winds and seas were still pretty high, but we wanted to move so we motored around to the next cove, Five Islands Harbour. We got our second anchor situation resolved and put both anchors out to ensure a good night’s sleep. The seas were still too stirred up to make an anchor dive worthwhile, so why not be safe? We had a great day splashing around in the water, admiring a beautiful sunset, and then …

  Scraaaaaape. What the … ? Scraaaaaape. We were hitting a sandbar or something. Why now? In the dark? (Oh yeah, LESSON 13, Be afraid.) We had been there all day with no problems. We threw out a third anchor to pull us off and went to bed.

  The next day was windy and stormy. Welcome to the islands, Melissa! We decided to stay in the same harbor, but we moved farther from the beach. We got situated again with our two anchors, sat tight through some high gusts and a few rain showers, read all day, and then prepared to settle in for dinner when … scraaaaape. Really?!

  The sun wasn’t quite down yet, so we figured we’d just quickly move again, but nooOOoo. Our anchors seemed to be entwined. Michael got in the dinghy to unwind them and … the dinghy motor died. Instead of grabbing on to something, Michael just kept pulling at the engine cord, trying to get it restarted. Meanwhile he was quickly floating toward the bay entrance and out to sea!