Shelter Bay

We took two days to sail from San Blas to the Shelter Bay Marina on the Caribbean side of the canal, with a stop at Isla Linton. It's hot here, in the low 90's every day. Some unusual weather systems have turned the wind around with light winds out of the west and south rather than the trades out of the NE for the last week so the trade winds are not helping cool the marina. We had 15-25kts from the south and spent the last two hours of the trip yesterday beating into the wind - very unusual. Lots and lots of ships here, anchored inside and outside the breakwater. We were constantly dodging anchored ships as wells as ships going to/from the canal. It reminded us of sailing in the bay on a busy day.

We're now looking into how to get our autopilot and refrigeration problems solved before we head to the South Pacific. More details soon!

87 + 78 + 86 = Really hot!

This morning the air temperature is 87F, the humidity is 78%, the water temperature is 86F and there is essentially no wind. That adds up to really hot and humid. We swim most afternoons but the water has huge temperature differences in just a few yards. In some places it's almost too hot to swim, like a very warm bath, and then a couple of yards away it actually feels cold, which means it might be 80F. But an hour or two of snorkeling does cool us off for awhile. Yesterday Fay got a nice shot of this guy looking up from his hiding spot inside some coral.

Looking out the back door

After checking into the San Blas region (aka Kuna Yala) of Panama, we moved to an anchorage at Chichime. We spent two days there catching up on some immediate repairs, swimming and unwinding from our passage from Bonaire. This was the view out the companionway and through the cockpit for two days. These islands were typical of the others we've seen in San Blas. White sand beaches rising 4-5 feet above sea level, covered with coconut palms and populated by a few Kuna families in huts built of palm fronds. This region is pretty much right out of the travel brochures!

Two pair of Paines

Pair-of-PainesIf we were playing yacht designer poker it would be a reasonable hand. Two nights before we departed Bonaire, another Chuck Paine design, Home Free, was on the mooring next to us. I first met Home Free, a Morris 51, in 2005 at the Morris yard where she was undergoing repairs. Her owner, Bob Trenary, and I traded email for several years before we finally met at the Newport Shipyard in 2008 while both waiting to depart for the Caribbean. We later shared an anchorage in the BVIs in 2009 and our delayed departure from Bonaire brought us together again in 2010.
Then, two nights ago we came on deck to swim across the anchorage and thought the boat that had just anchored next to us looked very familiar. We looked closer and she was another Chuck Paine design, a Kanter 62. Now owned by a New Zealand couple, they had purchased Sequel II in Florida and were on their way back to New Zealand.
So our passage from Bonaire to San Blas was bookended by two other Chuck Paine designs!

San Blas

We're in the San Blas islands which are the territory of the Kuna indians. Cruisers discovered the idyllic islands (more pics later) which are a few feet of white sand above the water, covered with palm trees, out of the hurricane zone and populated by these gentle people. The Kuna's in turn discovered the cruisers and have built a good business selling them mola's, brightly colored embroidery, as well as bracelets and a few other items. As soon as a new boat is anchored, one or two Kuna dugout canoes (ulu's) are on either side of the boat offering their goods. The Kuna are patient and tenacious sellers.

Fay bought several mola's from this woman this morning. This picture has not been "dialed up" in PhotoShop, these are the real colors - BRIGHT!

San Blas

We arrived in San Blas this afternoon, motoring the last 10 hrs as there was very little wind, then even less. We're currently anchored right off the airport on Isla Porvenir. The airport is a very narrow and short strip of bad asphalt slightly shorter than the entire island.

Tomorrow we'll clear in, then move to another anchorage. But tonight, it's a couple of beers, some pinot noir, a nice lasagne, and a lot of sleep!

24 hours

A cruising day can be very rich and full with beauty, drama, tragedy and a full range of human emotions.

Tuesday through Thursday was light air with 10-14kts of breeze, occasionally dropping to 6-8 which forced us to motor for a few hours. We got pretty complacent with the light breezes, excited when it would surge to 16kts and we would have a little more speed.

Our 24 hrs begins on Thursday afternoon when we decided to take advantage of the benign conditions and try our spinnaker furler system. Some suggestions had been made in Antigua after our testing there and we wanted to try them out. It was our first "solo", just Fay and I raising the big sail. We made the changes we discussed earlier and soon had it flying. We immediately picked up 1.5-2kts of speed and the boat felt much more stable. But after about 20minutes we noticed a problem with the furler which we thought was from our inexperience. We furled the sail (the problems with spinnakers are usually getting them down), but noticed another problem. We sorted those out, unfurled again about half way and then realized that the changes we had agreed to in Antigua (adding a snap shackle to the tack of the furler) were the cause of our new problems. So we furled it back up, sorted it out, and put it away for another day.

We had a load of wash going so Fay pinned the laundry up on the lifelines and we coasted along with our 12-14kt breeze.

Late that afternoon the forecast was for the breeze to freshen to 16-20kts in the evening and through the next morning so we looked forward to a little more speed. Just before Fay went off watch at 7pm we reefed the main just to keep things nice and mellow. It stayed light and in my 8pm log entry I wrote that we were "underpowered". But the breeze built as expected and we were soon moving right along. Then the seas built rapidly and we were very uncomfortable with a big cross swell that rolled us pretty wildly every 5 minutes or so.

I was awakened at 1:30am during Fay's watch when it was really rocking. We had 25-28kts, big seas rolling us like crazy, a lightning storm overtaking us from windward, and a ship which would not respond to our radio calls, had the dimmest lights I'd ever seen on a big ship, and was calculated to cross us with just 500yds to spare, way too close. The direction and force of the wind was sort of locking us into a "close call" course so we rolled up the jib and double reefed the main, allowing us to alter course enough to clear the ship by 2 miles.

But the big seas continued to roll us wildly and we sailed for some time with the double reef and a little bit of jib to balance the boat. Fay got some sleep and I was on watch until she came back at 6am.

I slept about an hour, then was awakened about 7:30am when New Morning took a hard turn and luffed up into the wind. I stuck my head up in the companionway and Fay told me the autopilot had quit working! Deja vu, this is what happened during our passage from Bermuda to the BVI's in 2008! I was barely awake but put on my PFD/harness and tether and confirmed she was correct, no autopilot. Plus some strange clunking noises, but the steering seemed ok.

Unlike our Bermuda/BVI passage, the seas were too rough to do anything immediately. Even though we were both exhausted, the only real choice was to hand steer until things calmed down. I did a quick weather check and concluded that the breeze should lighten up by early afternoon, and would be even lighter if we turned towards the Columbian coast. Columbia was not our destination so we split the difference and headed towards the coast, but not quite directly. Over the next four hours we took turns steering for 30 minutes at a time. In the 30 minutes when we weren't steering, we took turns hauling things out of the aft cockpit locker, cleaning off the hydraulic fluid that was all over everything (one indication that something was very wrong), placing the stuff in plastic bags and stowing it in the forward cabin. Finally I was able to remove the panel in front of the steering.

I expected to see something bad, but I was really surprised to see a hydraulic ram, still attached to the quadrant, still mounted to a huge aluminum base, and dragging hydraulic hoses, swinging back and forth every time we turned the wheel. We don't know exactly what failed, but it looks like the port cylinder mount pulled out of the boat which is very strange. In due time I was able to remove the ram from the quadrant, and attach the spare ram which is mounted on the starboard side. All of this while we still had pretty good sized seas and 20-23kts of wind. This is kind of like bolting something to the steering wheel while you're friend is driving down a twisty mountain road with no brakes. My fingers were holding onto the cylinder fitting and trying to slide it onto the peg on the quadrant, while Fay was trying to coordinate her turns with me, but not lose control of the boat. Then once the fitting was on the peg, I had to slide on a large washer and a retaining clip. All of this at arms length, under the quadrant and in constant motion threatening to claim one of my fingers. But we got it done.

Then it took another hour to juggle the wiring to the autopilot (the switch installed earlier was not wired correctly), and then convince the autopilot to use the new ram without going through all of it's setup procedures. We skipped the "learning" procedure and went straight to "on the job training". By 1:30pm the autopilot was again steering and we were exhausted.

I made a couple of phone calls and sent some emails, then Fay let me go to sleep. When I woke up at 4:30, things were as mellow as could be. New Morning was cranking out 8-9kts in 18-20kts of breeze, sliding down much more friendly waves. The sky was blue and clear and the wind had shifted to allow us to steer directly for San Blas. And after all the light wind and too much wind and autopilot problems and course changes for ships, our ETA was Saturday morning, four days for 700 miles, a very reasonable 175m/day.

And we've received a response from the people who installed the autopilot and are working to coordinate logistics for the repair in Panama.

24 hours...

Light and steady

We departed Bonaire yesterday in light air and had to motor on and off forthe first five hours. Once we were totally clear of Bonaire we got a light but steady breeze and we've been sailing ever since. The wind is steady at 12-16kts, but it's from directly behind us. To make the ride a little more comfortable we're sailing on a broad reach and then gybing every few hours, essentially zig zagging down the course. The seas are generally small, but it woldn't be the Caribbean if there wasn't a cross swell to slap us around periodically.

Yesterday we saw some frenzied fish and bird activity with the water churning and birds circling, but we were never able to determine exactly what was going on. We saw a few large fish (three feet plus) jump and they might have been tuna. We're not sure if they were the predator or the prey.

Last night was very peaceful. It cools off when the sun goes down which is very welcome. The breeze was steady and the water reasonably calm. There was no moon and a slight haze dimmed the stars so there wasn't much to see. It was difficult to make out the horizon when we would scan it with the binoculars looking for fishing boats and other traffic that might not show up on the radar or AIS.

Sailiing at night is kind of like driving down a straight freeway at night with the headlights off, or in thick fog when you're 99.9% sure that you're the only car on the road. As long as you hold the wheel straight, everything is fine, you're just rushing through the darkness with a slight sense of foreboding. Behind us there was a sparkling trail of phosphorescence as the keel and rudder excited the plankton. There were bright distinct pieces of plankton, some trapped on the swim platform, and then a dull glow deeper in the water trailing behind the boat.

Without much to look at, we both listened to NPR on our iPod shuffles. It's a little incongruous listening to the News Hour or Fresh Air, but it helps pass the time on the night watch.

The forecast if for continued light air for the next couple of days, mixed with some rain and possibly a good strong breeze for12hrs or so. Then the final day into San Blas is looking pretty light and we may have to motor. It's not yet clear if we'll make it in on Saturday afternoon, or have to wait offshore and make landfall on Sunday morning.

Departing for Panama

After three months in Bonaire we're departing for Panama this morning. I think I've talked at length about the fish and the wonderland under the water. But to balance things out, here is a shot to show that there is also life above the waterline. Eventually I'll post a lot of photos of Bonaire. Departing soon.

It's a wet, small world

Fay returned from visiting family last week and we've been diving this week. Thus far the diving off the back of the boat has been the best. We literally put on the tanks and jump off the back of the boat, swimming not more than about 100yds from the boat, and diving to 40'-60' on wall that drops quickly to 300'! So that gets the wet started.

Then, after three months of dry weather which produced a very dirty boat constantly covered with red dust, it started raining. We had good solid rain on and off for two days. Everything was thoroughly rinsed which was really welcome. Unfortunately the leaking chain plate and forward hatch were not as welcome.

Then last night, small world. We went out to dinner at Capriccio, the only Italian restaurant in Bonaire, and the only restaurant we've enjoyed in years that also has a Wine Spectator award winning wine list. The wine list, virtually all Italian wines, was 20-30 pages of small type. But the small world story was figuring out over the course of the evening that I had previously enjoyed Capriccio's chef's cooking in 1988 at Vista Panoramica in Ivrea, Italy! Ivrea is a fairly obscure town about 50 miles north of Turin is probably best known as the headquarters of Italian computer maker Olivetti, which was had brought me there in 1988. From Ivrea to Kralendijk, Bonaire, Dutch Antilles an unlikely move. But fortunate for us as we had an excellent dinner!

Site updates

When not in the water I've had a lot of time to update the web site. The Systems section in About New Morning has lots of new material and is almost complete. Minor updates and changes were made elsewhere throughout the site to improve formatting, correct minor errors, etc.

Still Bonaire

In addition to snorkeling, the last couple of weeks have allowed me to focus on some chronic problems. The autopilot / plotter / navigation software interfaces now all seem to be working well which is a big improvement. Then I had to replace a voltage regulator for the engine mounted alternators and in the process I discovered and solved a problem that had been there since New Morning was launched. A wiring short cut had introduced an error in the temperature compensation causing the voltage to be too high, but that had been partially offset by the default parameters of the regulator which were too low. By correcting the wiring and setting the correct parameters in the regulator the batteries are now getting much better treatment which should contribute to their longevity and reliability. As they say, cruising is the endless process of fixing your boat in paradise.

Life is pretty easy here, though Bonaire is somewhat of a conundrum. Below the water is a lush marine wonderland, above the water is a desert. Most of the development is clustered along the western, lee shore. Businesses (and diving is THE business here) are along the shore, backed by residential areas. Our friend Joel Simon who runs snorkeling trips around the world (www.seaforyourself.com) took me on an expansive tour of the island. Half a mile away from shore is desert. Real desert, with open expanses of powdery red soil and cactus. Once I saw this it completely explained why the boat is caked in red dust. Trades blow off the Caribbean on the east shore, pick up the dust and deposit it upon everything else clustered on the western shore. The annual rainfall is just 20". Think of Los Angeles (annual rainfall 15"), but without water from Northern California and no snow covered mountains to the north and east. Bonaire makes all of it's own water, desalinated from the sea.

The population is just 14,000, but most people speak four languages - Dutch, Spanish, English, and Papiamentu (close to Portugese). Everything works pretty well, the food is excellent (though no patisseries), people are friendly and it's noticeably less expensive than Guadeloupe or Antigua.

A Polar beer is about $1.50 in a bar. It's only 8oz, but they're happy to sell us as many as we want!

The weather has been a bit odd. It's cloudy in the morning about 70% of the time, then it clears up later on. Kind of like San Francisco, except I don't know what's driving the cloud cover because 2/3 of the island is flat and it's no more than 5 miles across. And a persistent haze hangs on the horizon, producing sunsets like the one in this picture, but are so different than those east Caribbean sunsets.

Below the water is amazing. Literally right off the back of the boat are big parrot fish, eels, angelfish, squid, and all manner of tropical fish. And they're big, much larger than the same fish when we saw them in the east Caribbean. We're moored about 100yds from the main street of Kralendijk, and right off our bow is what I call the "lap pool", Bonaire style. Why build a pool when you have 80 degree crystal clear water at your doorstep? They've laid out long course (50m) lane lines and different groups come down on different days to train and go through all the stuff you'd see at a local pool. People swim laps, kids fool around when they should be paying attention, a coaches blows a whistle and yells at people, etc. I haven't seen a proper swim meet yet, but if they held one I'm pretty sure this is where they'd hold it.

On the mooring

It's life on the moorings now. There are two rows of boats, all double tied to moorings and swinging in 15-25 knots of breeze. Bonaire is very dry so a lot of dust, and a few mosquitoes, blow off the land and onto the boat. But the water is clear and the fish abundant.

Today we picked up Christian and Josie-anne in the dinghy and motored over to No Name beach on Klein Bonaire (aka Little Bonaire). It was blowing 20+ so the downwind ride to the island was very quick and relatively smooth. Although at one point we plowed into the back of a wave which took us off a plane and buried the bow into the wave, filling the dinghy with water. Fortunately everyone shifted aft, the bow lifted and we didn't sink the dinghy. We beached the dinghy, walked east until the powdery sand ended, then put on our fins/snorkels and kicked out. We went though about 40 yards of very shallow water with lots of coral which was a really challenge with lots of wind and a big chop. Once we got off the ledge, the bottom dropped away like a cliff.

As we snorkeled along the edge we saw an amazing array of fish and Fay got this great shot of a big parrot fish. But we also saw barracuda, trunk fish, angelfish and all manner of tropical fish, mostly super-sized. And turtles! We saw at least four different turtles,

Again, Fay got this great shot of a turtle that swam right up to her. Bonaire is called the Divers Paradise and we can see why; there are lots of fish!

The ride back was very wet. The first ten minutes we had a fire hose coming at us every 20 seconds as motored into the 20-25kts of breeze at 5-10 knots creating 25-30kts of apparent wind. Very wet and wild. The breeze is supposed to lighten up a bit later this week so we're looking forward to a second trip.

Out of the trailer park

Yesterday we moved from the marina to a mooring. There is no anchoring allowed in Bonaire due to a variety of factors. The first is that the water drops off very quickly from shore; literally from 20' to 500' in a few hundred yards. The second is the preservation of the reefs and marine life in Bonaire since they are the core of it's tourism industry. They have excellent moorings with two large mooring blocks, each with its own mooring line so all the boats are double moored very securely.

There is plenty of breeze, but no fetch and thus no waves. Just the wakes from passing boats, with much more traffic when a cruise ship is in town. And, no mosquitoes, or at least very few, we're not entirely sure yet if there are none at all.

The water is very clear and we can snorkel right off the boat. It's nice to be back where we can dive off the back of the boat anytime we want to cool off. While we were out for a swim today, Fay spotted a Lionfish. This is a big deal because it's an invasive species in the Caribbean that is both venomous to humans and a very aggressive and able predator with respect to other reef fish. As such, there is very active effort by marine authorities to capture or kill them when they are spotted in the Caribbean. Fay reported this one to the National Park authorities so we'll see if they come out to capture it.

Back in Bonaire

We arrived back in Bonaire late Sunday night. New Morning was in fine shape tied up in the Harbour Village Marina. It's nice to be back in the tropics and 80 degree weather! Unfortunately the mosquitoes here are as plentiful as the tropical fish and much more aggressive. We battled them in the hotel Sunday night, and now in the marina. However, we did discover bug wands at the hotel; sort of like a badminton racket, but they zap mosquitoes (or any other bug I guess). They're definitely more effective than slapping them with our hands. We have a few things to do on the dock, then I think we'll head for a mooring in hopes of escaping some of the mosquitoes.

Once settled in we'll start looking for dive and snorkeling locations. Yesterday afternoon while having lunch next to the water we could see large fish right up at the surface, nibbling on the growth on the rocks. We're looking forward to getting into the water.

Briefly home

We came back to California last week for a very short visit and we return to Bonaire very soon. It's cold and rainy here, but the shelves of the stores are completely full! We picked up some provisions, parts, tools and the usual collection of stuff that is difficult to purchase when cruising, but available here within a 10 miles radius!

We also made our pilgrimage to the French consulate to apply for a long stay visa for French Polynesia. It appears all of our papers were in order, so now we just wait 2-3 months to see if they grant our visa.

It's raining again today with the temperature hovering around 50F. We're ready to return to 80F and warm water.

Bonaire and Updates

We arrived in Bonaire yesterday afternoon. We sailed from Los Roques to Aves de Barlovento in very boisterous conditions. With 22-25kts of true wind directly behind us we averaged 9.2kts of boat speed and had a new boat speed record of 13.8kts! But the seas were short and steep so we sailed with the true wind at 150 degrees and gybed back and forth down our course. The result was that our net speed for the whole trip from anchor to anchor was only 7.5kts. We anchored at Barlovento behind a large stand of trees filed with red footed Boobies. Fay got some great pictures which we'll post later.

Yesterday we sailed from Barlovento to Bonaire, with slightly less wind, only about 20-23kts. Our average yesterday was 8.6kts, but again we had to gybe down the course so our net speed was a little lower. As we rounded Lacre Point and headed up the lee side of Bonaire the seas smoothed out and we thought the wind would lighten up. Were we ever wrong. The wind increased to 25kts true, with gusts to 28, and right on the beam. With the jib rolled up a bit, and a reef in the main, we flew up the lee shore at a constant 9.5kts which is pretty much our maximum hull speed without waves to push us forward. An exhilarating ride, but we would gladly have had less wind. Dropping the sails in that much wind was not fun.

Fortunately there was a little protection at the fuel dock in the Harbour Village Marina so we had no problems docking and tying up. This morning we moved from the fuel dock to a slip. Tomorrow we leave at 5am for a short trip back to California.

There are pictures of our most recent time in Les Saintes, and an update to our planned schedule.

First bread

Just before the lobster was another first on New Morning. The first fresh baked artisan breads.

First Fay made focaccia from an Alice Waters recipe, to which she added machego cheese, basil pesto, caramelized onions and spices. That was dinner one night. Then the next day she stretched it into a pizza for lunch!

Not to be out done, I took my hand to the bread baking. First flour (white + rye), salt, water, and a pinch of yeast which fermented overnight. In the morning, a quick fold and 15 min rest, followed by shaping (I tried two) and two more hours of rising, then into the oven. We were very worried the oven wasn't up to the task, but with our baking stone in place and 45 minutes of pre-heating, it was great. The breads came out really well, easily exceeding my expectations.

Since we both love good bread (with olive oil and balsamic it's practically a meal in itself) we now know we can always have good bread. What a relief to no longer be at the mercy of the grocery store, mercado or supermarché.

Death in the afternoon

Death was expected to come swiftly. The pick was plunged quickly and decisively between the eyes, through the skull and into the brain. But not today, not this afternoon. The langousta fought back with all it's being, flipped and flopped and defied the "the most humane way to kill a lobster..." instructions in the cookbook. Fay fell back, then plunged forward again and again, stirring the contents of whatever lay behind the forehead of the langousta. To no avail; it would not die.

As it seemed weakened, she positioned the long chef's knife the length of it's body and tail. With a swift blow of the rubber hammer the knife bifurcated the langousta. But still it's twitching body tormented Fay's gentle being. Eventually, with it's body cut in half, the tail separated from the body, the legs from the body, and the antennae from the head, it ceased to move. Relief and sadness settled on the transom.

None the less, grilled and served with freshly baked bread and a bottle of La Crema chardonnay it was a tasty meal. Pictures will be posted.

These are not plastic

It's not often you see pink flamingos in the wild. Fay got some great shots of these birds, but this is a quick one to show you what we saw. There was actually a huge flock of them, but after we made one pass fairly close quite a few of them moved away.