The need to get moving and get to the next place is an itch which has to be scratched.
It doesn’t matter how nice it is where you already are, you still wonder about the next place.
It doesn’t matter how many pictures you’ve seen or how many guide book descriptions you’ve read, you never know what that next place will really be like until you see it for yourself.
And when you have been wondering about that next place for so long that you just have to get going, it has already become an itch.
So you scratch that itch and you get going and when you are finally on the way and the destination draws near there is an excitement and a thrill that you’re finally going to see it.
That excitement and thrill becomes addictive, and even if some of the places don’t turn out to be all that special; they are still new and there is a sense of wonderment at actually being there.
We’ve had that addiction for many years. It was one of the drivers that kept us going all the way around the world.
In fact, we were already hooked back in the 90’s when every year we went on a cruise into Canada and each year we ventured farther to see another new place.
Finally we realized that going 200 miles north into Canada and back in a three week vacation just to get to some place we haven’t seen before was getting a little extreme.
That was when we decided to try a new approach.
We thought, “When there is nowhere else to go, why not go closer to home?”
We realized that for years we had been travelling on our way to those famous distant paradises without stopping at some interesting and nice places nearby.
When we started to cruise closer to home we found many of those little spots that we had been passing for years. Places like Bowman Bay, Mystery Bay and over in Canada, Sooke Harbor, Beecher Bay, and Port Renfrew (a destination all by itself). Of course there were places in the San Juans, the Gulf Islands and even in Puget Sound we visited that we’d never before seen. They were lovely, interesting, and close.
And they were best enjoyed when we stayed longer than just overnight.
Now we are living in La Cruz, Mexico, and we’ve been to all the great places up north in the Sea of Cortez or down south past Barra. They are wonderful places to visit and for sure we’ll go back to Tenacatita and Loreto and other favorites in the years ahead.
But what about going closer to home?
This year we decided to stick closer to La Cruz. Partially it was Covid-19 that influenced our decision, but we also wondered what was nearby that we’ve been missing. So we took a look.
We’ve been out here now for six weeks exploring within 60 miles of La Cruz finding neat anchorages and we still have not been to all of them.
We spent weeks in Punta Mita, then finally we set sail northward.
We visited the Marias islands and found them stunningly beautiful and wild (and protected, we got kicked out) and we look forward to seeing new anchorages there when they are opened to visitors. We stayed for weeks at Matanchen Bay and that was peaceful and beautiful and we took a dingy trip into San Blas for shopping. In Matanchen we had a long running battle with some little birds who were insistent that they were going to build a nest in our boom. (This also happened a couple of years ago in Santiago Bay.) We grew to like these little birds who always tweeted (really tweeted, with their beaks)their daily arrival for nest building, and they in turn became comfortable with our presence and would fly in and out of the boom within inches of our heads as we sat in our chairs in the cockpit. They only gave up on home building when Wings sailed away.
Next we went to Chacala, where we’ve stopped on previous trips but we never stayed long and we never went ashore there. This time we stayed for several days and we took the dingy in and walked all over town. It was quiet.
Two other boats, Summer and Kognita, were in Chacala and we anchored near them. The view from the beach was of three similar boats, all performance cruisers with fin keels and Monitor windvanes on their transom, anchored bow to the waves with stern anchors set. That was an interesting coincidence.
Chacala was beautiful and quiet, and we enjoyed the sounds of birds ashore each morning, though thankful that none tried to move in.
The crews of Summer and Kognita were surfers and each day they dingy’d up the coast to a point break at La Caleta where the waves were big.
One day we took our dingy there and got some photos. It was a good thing that I have a long lens on the Nikon because Judy would not let me get close to the waves.
The season has a lot to do with our ability to do this cruise. In April and May the northerlies have stopped and on this coast we have only light SW winds and daily light thermals. This makes some north facing bays into good anchoring spots. Our stays in these places have been times of relaxing and enjoying the scenery. We haven’t been on the move every day and it’s been nice.
The afternoon thermals though have given us some great sailing. We’ve used very little fuel going from one place to the next and the ocean has always been blue and calm.
After Chacala we spent a few days at Las Ayalas in Jaltembre Bay, the first time we were ever there and we plan to go back. Now we are again in Punta Mita. Tomorrow we’ll go back to La Cruz for supplies, but in a few days after that we’ll head out again for some more “closer to home” exploring.
Sometime a little before sundown the first night out, when the late afternoon light was at its most intense and the air was so clear that the mountains of Baja were still visible 48 miles to the west the first few boobies came rolling in to check us out.
I was on watch and I saw them coming and just because they are such beautiful fliers I turned to follow their flight. They came in high and circled the boat on the glide craning their necks to look back at me. I saw them jitter a little going through the backwash of the sails and then swoop down to the wave tops off to leeward and brush their wing tips along the crests and troughs of the blue Pacific swells as they circled back for another pass.
Within moments there were two more, and then ten. Before long there were 50 to 100 boobies circling around Wings and making passes at the rig and sails. I had no idea where they came from of how they all found their way to this spot in the ocean, or why they found us so interesting.
In the deepening shadows they were contrasted against the indigo sky and the swirling motion of 100 boobies was overwhelmingly beautiful and I watched, captivated. The boat was sailing quietly and the birds made no sound, it was all just visual. As I lay on the deck looking upward and the swell rolled Wings' mast, the birds seemed to lurch towards the mast and sail, then lurch away. It was only the movement of the boat but the image was astonishingly beautiful; it was magical. I needed a video camera but not having one I reached for the Nikon, but it just did not properly capture the spinning, wheeling, wild ballet over my head.
As suddenly as they came they all flew off, all together and in the same direction, to the South East, and I was left sailing alone again.
But it wasn’t over.
Within minutes, just before darkness set in, another group came and they repeated the whole thing, circling and swooping and checking out the boat and the sails. Some made passes as if to land but swerved away at the last minute.
So I watched the second group come and go, then a third, and then it was dark.
The next day a pair of boobies came during the daylight and proceeded to land on the bow pulpit. They tend to soil the boat so I tried to wave them off. It didn’t work; they just looked at me. Judy got the air horn and I blew that at them, which made them curious, but did not scare them off. Finally I walked to the front of the boat and when I got within a few feet of them they flew away, only to come back minutes later. Only by standing there could I keep them from landing. It was a stand-off, and I held out longer than they did and eventually they gave up and few away.
That night, the last night of that passage, boobies again came to visit and entertain us and each day pairs would try to hitch a ride. Not until we neared the mainland coast did they stop coming to us.
Just woke up from a nap. Maybe I should write a blog; it’s been a while.
Holy cow! I haven’t written since October. Where did November and December go?
I guess we’ve been busy with boat projects and guests.
How about a short round-up?
Bad Bad Birds
In November the little birds return. We get swamped with these little birds, swallows, I think. They flock to the marina every morning during November and December. Hundreds of them. One thing they like to do is land on sailboat masts. Like this bunch on our mast.
I don’t like them on our mast. It’s not that they will damage it like the bigger ones do, but they poo-poo on our boat. In fact they poo-poo on the shade awning which we also use for a water catcher. One thing you don’t want on your water catcher is bird poo.
There is a way to get rid of the birds. You just go outside and, with the flat of your hand, sharply hit the shrouds which makes a big noise and a sudden vibration which scares the birds. So, each morning, when I get up, I look out the bathroom hatch to see if there are birds on our mast. If so, and in November and December there usually are, I go outside and whack the mast. They all fly away.
(Try Full Frame)
The birds are actually pretty smart. If you do this tactic for a few days they learn not to come to your mast. In fact I’ve watched them come flying in for a landing on our mast then swerve off at the last minute. However, if you go away for several days they learn that too and then they start landing on the mast again and you have to train them all over.
But, in the meanwhile, we’re drinking bottled water.
This year we decided to do our annual bottom job in San Blas. The prices are better there than in La Cruz and it’s only 60 miles away. So, to save a $1000 we’ll take a little trip to San Blas, and have a holiday there as well.
Some really good friends of ours, Jimmy and Robin from Orcas Island, said they would come with us for the sailing and hang out in San Blas. That was great news!
So on Dec. 5 off we went to San Blas. The sailing was great (but sadly, we took no pictures of that) and on the morning of Dec. 6 we hauled out in the Fonatur Marina in San Blas and promptly got going on the bottom job.
There were two complications on this trip: One, we misunderstood the racing schedule back in La Cruz and we only had 5 days to finish the bottom paint and get back for the first race. Whew! We had to hurry. The other was that we found the water depth coming into the river in San Blas was quite a bit shallower than expected. We got in OK but getting out wasn’t going to be easy because of a lower tide on the day we expected to leave.
The first problem we solved by hiring a fast worker and encouraging him to get done according to our schedule, which he did.
For the water depth issue Jimmy came up with a good idea, “Lets hire a boat and go out to the river mouth and survey the channel. Maybe we can find a deeper route.”
That’s what we did. For $600Pesos we hired a panga and driver for an hour and we set out on a little Lewis and Clark style (updated with modern equipment) survey. Jimmy had his GPS and a notebook and I had my leadline. Forty minutes later we’d checked out the whole entrance and had our deep water channel located. Back on Wings (in the boat yard) we updated our electronic chart with all the new soundings.
Two problems solved.
Nothing left to do but hang out at the hotel pool and do some exploring.
San Blas is a historic Mexican colonial town and once was one of the most important ports in the Mexican galleon trade. Some of the old structures still exist, such as the “Contradura” or fort at the top of the hill. We went there and looked at the old buildings and the view. We also saw the old church (from 1773).
And we sampled most of the restaurants and bars in the town. It was lots of fun and re really enjoyed re-connecting with Jimmy and Robin. Robin was a great hostess in their hotel suite, Jimmy was a huge help on the bottom job, and there were some fun scrabble games in the garden each night. The trip home was uneventful except that while the river channel we surveyed was deep enough, the travel lift was not. We stuck our new bottom paint in the mud when they let us down. Shoot!
Click here for images of San Blas from our previous trip.
There is a shortage of racing marks in the La Cruz area so for our local races we have to use temporary marks. Sometimes an inflatable mark is set but this has to be taken in after each race, and that, plus setting it, is an onerous task. Often a home-made spar buoy mark which can be left on site for a few months is used and both last year and this year I made some spar buoy marks for that purpose.
To make a spar buoy like this you buy a long piece of PVC pipe, 200cm (10 inches) in diameter and 4 meters (12.5 feet) long. You fill the bottom with concrete and hang a anchor chain off the bottom of that, put foam in the top, and slap in some red paint. Eureka! You have a spar buoy. However, a 12.5 foot, 200lb spar buoy is really pretty big. So we call them, “Monster Spars”. I made them bullet proof tough and they should be unsinkable, but as we’ll see later, there must be some design flaw. Read on.
As soon as I finished these two I donated them to PV Sailing and told Mike Danielson they were his now.
But, just as last year, the first one he set only lasted a few days. In less than week it disappeared. We have no idea where it went. Did it sink, get stolen, or drift away? We just don’t know. But for sure, it is gone. Well, we have one more and if that one goes, I’ll make more.
Racing Season
I’ll do another story soon about our racing season which kicked off the day after we got back from San Blas. Suffice it to say however, that we’re doing OK so far. We’ve had four races and got four first places. (Well, four first-in-class finishes. For overall, we’ve got three firsts and a second. Still, not bad.)
We’ve been sailing with an older Dacron mainsail because our new mainsail got lost in shipping. We’re hoping that is resolved soon.
I don’t know when I last wrote about the “Bird Problem”.
Maybe it was in Mauritius when our windex (that little arrow at the top of our mast which points into the direction of the wind) fell broken to the deck after a crow tried to sit on it. That crow was cheeky and smart, as crows are known to be. After breaking off the windex he flew down to a nearby railing to watch me and see what I’d do about his handiwork. Smart or not I didn’t like what he did to our windex which I had to spend a day fixing (since no replacement windexes were available in Mauritius).
I know it wasn’t when a Bald Eagle tried to grab onto our masthead long ago, in British Columbia, and his strong talons nearly crushed our delicate B&G wind instruments, which are right alongside the windex. I was pissed off about that but I never wrote about it.
I think probably it was back when we were anchored in Mexico with Carl and JoAnne on Far Niente. I wrote,
The first voice I heard on the radio this morning was Carl, from Far Niente, calling “Wings, Wings".
When I answered he just said, "Look up!"
I stuck my head out the hatch and craned my neck upward, and there on the spreaders staring back at me were two large Boobies. When Boobies are up on your sailboat mast, look out below! We just spent hours the previous day cleaning up after the last Boobie. Up on deck I went, and I grabbed the end of a wire Spinnaker halyard and swung it wildly against the mast, which caused the Boobies to gracefully drop off their perches and to glide off across the water towards...
Yes, you guessed it, Carl's boat, where they landed and decided that so much excitement called for a little relief; on Carl's boat.
I happily called Carl on the radio to notify him, you see we help each other out.
Later the Boobies flew over to John's boat. Both Carl and I called John.
That was Zihuatenejo in 1998. Now I am writing again about the bird wars because that’s what they are: wars! Not only do they make a mess, they can break things, expensive things.
Here in La Cruz there are very few Boobies but plenty of Pelicans and Frigate birds. The Pelicans will land on your railings and poo all over the place, but they don’t bother the boats in the marina, only in the anchorage. So we’re safe from Pelican poo. Frigate Birds, however, are a problem. They love to perch on the top of sailboat masts in the marina. Not only do they drop their stuff all over the boat (which is devilish hard to scrub off) but they can break sailboat instruments. Our sailboat instruments are very good, but old; irreplaceable in fact. So when the Frigate Birds started landing on our mast, and squishing our wind direction unit, it meant war.
Now there are a couple of ways to fight against these birds aside from banging on the mast with your hand whenever you notice one or someone tells you about one which scares the Frigate bird off. This is not a good way to prevent damage because the bird can sit there for hours before anyone notices it. One way to prevent damage is to take down all your mast head instruments. That definitively prevents damage to expensive parts but it doesn’t stop the birds from landing up there anyhow and littering your deck and sail covers. It is also inconvenient to go up the mast and replace the instruments every time you want to go sailing, then take them back down again afterwards.
Another approach is to put a garden rake up the mast, supposedly to prevent the birds from getting close to the wind instruments. I say supposedly because while several people have put rakes up their masts it hasn’t stopped the Frigate birds. The Frigate birds just land on the rake and poo like crazy. At least they can’t get down alongside the rake to reach the instruments. One poor boat owner, while putting up a rake to protect his instruments, broke the instruments with the rake, and the birds still land there to do their duty.
One thing I know is that these birds do not like landing on sharp objects. Modern windex units have a needle like rod sticking straight up. Frigate birds won’t land on that needle. I guess it hurts their butts. We have one of these needles on our windex. It works. The B&G wind instrument, which has its own vane for pointing into the wind and a set of spinning cups to measure wind speed, is not so equipped and those are the parts which are at risk on Wings.
I decided to add a needle to my B&G. Just something simple but sharp, which would stick right up the Frigate bird’s rear end should one try to land there. My solution, simple but hopefully effective, was to attach a piece of sharpened stainless steel rigging wire to the wind direction vane with wire ties. I figured it would add some windage but probably would not stop the device from operating, and should discourage the Frigate Birds.
That is what I did.
So far, so good.
No Frigate Birds have been sighted on our mast since I did this. Happy Happy.
We’ve finally turned around and are headed back towards La Cruz. For the last month we have been cruising alone on what is called the “Mexican Gold Coast”; all the other cruisers who were on this coast over the winter months, and there were many, have all departed northward. It has been a good cruise for us, the weather has been spectacular, and the anchorages and towns have been fantastic. We think the boats that have gone north already have missed out on a good thing but maybe they got their fill of cruising this coast during January and February while we were up in La Cruz racing.
Whatever the reasons, we haven’t seen a soul for weeks, so coming to Barra de Navidad on our way north was like arriving into a small frontier town after being in the wilderness; seeing people was pleasant for a change.
There is a lagoon in Barra de Navidad where we like to anchor. The lagoon is one of the few places on the Mexican coast which we’d consider a “bullet proof” anchorage. It can get windy in the afternoon but it is safe from storms. The very nice little town of Barra de Navidad sits on the sand spit which separates the lagoon from the Pacific Ocean. This is where we shop, get laundry done, and enjoy good food and drinks. We don’t put our dingy together when we are anchored in the lagoon; instead we call “taxi aquatica” on the radio and get a ride to town from one of the pangeros (the Mexican men who drive the panga water taxis). During the winter months we can also call “the French Baker” who comes around the lagoon in his boat every morning with fresh bread and goodies. Umm! Delicious! Too bad the French Baker is not here this time of year either.
There is also a marina, largely empty by the way, which is part of the Barra de Navidad Grand Hotel, where we occasionally get a berth for the night but we prefer to save our cash by anchoring in the lagoon. We did however come into the marina for one night to wash the boat, fill our water tanks and play in the hotel pool. The pool is awesome with different levels and waterfalls and water slides and, of course, a pool bar. We had a great time, loved the pool, and the next morning we even got up early and went back to swim laps for exercise. We really miss having a pool like this in La Cruz.
Water Sliding in the Grand Hotel Pool
Leaving Barra, and getting totally frustrated trying to sail to Tenacatita in light, light light winds and lumpy waves, and getting only half way of a 10 mile trip in 3 hours, the motor went on for the rest of the way. At least that way we did get there that afternoon and anchored near Nakamal.
The sailing the next day, however, was fantastic. We sailed to Chemela Bay, and upwind sail of 25 miles, and we had moderate breezes, wind shifts to play, a lot of tacks to do, and we arrived at the islands of Pajarera and Cocinas tired and sunburned, but happy. These islands are home to thousands of Pelicans, Frigate Birds, Boobies, Sea Gulls, Vultures, Ibis, Ducks, and many more kinds of birds, and they are all flying overhead all day and making a racket 24 hours a day. We anchored right in front of Pajarera Island and it really feels like nature there.
Now, after four days at Pajarera, we have moved to Perula. This is another nice anchorage with more wild scenery, a quiet little town with a few bars and restaurants, and a great beach where you can walk for miles and miles if you want to. At night, however, the anchorage is rolly.
To be honest, except for the Barra Lagoon, all of our anchorages on this trip have been rough. We can take it, but sleeping is sometimes difficult when you are getting rolled around all night. It will be nice to get to La Cruz and back into our berth in the marina there.
Tomorrow we will set sail for La Cruz.
Click here for many more photos and even another video.
Several events were planned in La Cruz for Earth Day 2015 and we tried to participate in all of them. We had a busy day.
To start off with, we joined the La Cruz Birders for a bird watch hike around the area. It was our first bird watch hike but the group were experts and they had done the same route on Earth Day previously and they were really interested to see the state of wild birds in our community this year. We sighted over 50 species compared to 35 from last year. Sadly, it was felt that the construction for the new highway just outside of town has driven many birds out of their natural habitat and into the urban area, accounting for the increase, and probably many of them were stressed by the displacement. I have to say that I found the photography challenging, but I got a few shots and we enjoyed the walk.
By 9:30 we had shifted over to the beach for the annual beach clean-up. Some two dozen members of the cruising community hit the beaches armed with large garbage sacks, scouring the shorelines for any inorganic matter. The interesting result was that very little trash was found. La Cruz’s beaches are pretty clean.
In the afternoon we turned Wings into a garbage scow as we set sail in the Bay with several other boats to pick up floating trash. We took a contingent of kids but even with their keen eyesight and a competitive urge to get more junk than any of the other boats, again, we found very little.
Apparently the problem of garbage, primarily plastic, which plagues the world’s ocean and which we have seen firsthand, doesn’t start in Bandaras Bay. That evening I reminded the group of cruisers who collected around the bonfire on the beach to reflect on the day’s activities about how lucky we were to live in a such a beautiful place and as cruisers, many of us whom will soon depart for the far corners of the globe in our boats, we can and should spread the word about caring for our oceans to other places, and that we might hope someday, through our efforts and the efforts of others, to find all of the world’s oceans as clean as Bandaras Bay.
After picking up what trash we could find the young crew on Wings turned to the sheets and we got on the wind and had a boisterous sail back up to Punta Blanca before we turned downwind and headed for the barn, not getting home until 6:00PM. One maneuver we tried, successfully it seems, was to drop all of our sails at once when we arrived at the entrance to the marina. As we neared the marina I assigned all of my young crew to positions on the halyards and decks and told them we would sail at full speed in perfect trim until I gave the word, then we would turn up into the wind and quickly drop the main and jib together, in a demonstration of seamanship that would impress their friends on the other boats.
Judy pointed out later that in 28 some years we have never before tried that maneuver and she wondered why I would subject our young crew to such an experiment, a question to which I had no answer, but everyone did their part and I’d say we looked rather smart doing it.
Anyhow we ended Earth Day at the bonfire on the beach where everyone told of the day’s adventures and we all agreed that Earth Day 2015, was good.
Sand and cactus and a couple of little towns; sleepy maybe, but nice enough.
We arrived on Sunday and picked up a mooring off the capital, Kralendijk, and checked in. Had to go back to the office on Monday for immigration. They gave us 90 days but we'll be gone before that.
Nice as Bonaire is, we're on the move now.
Then we shifted to the marina. Got power and water and WiFi and rented a motor scooter for a week.
Drove south along the shore and found Kite Beach where the kite boarders were holding a championship for closed course racing, the middle and South American Championships.
Hooked up with Jan Eckmann and Dave on the yacht Baraka. Friends of Taipan and Jan used to work at Bank of America. We knew a lot of people in common. They rented a truck and we drove to the other end of the island, through the national park. Saw lots of Flamingoes in the salt ponds.
Diving is nice here; Bonaire is known for it. We snorkeled a few places and agreed that it was pretty good.
Found a great Dutch supermarket, Van Der Tween, and a Karel's, a good bar for happy hour drinks.
There is little which gives us more comfort than a really quiet anchorage.
In the middle of night, when we are in our snug cabin with soft lights on and softer music playing, whether we are reading a good book or just napping with a half-finished glass of wine close at hand, that is when the peace of a quiet anchorage is perfect.
By quiet I mean still. No waves to rock you, no wind to whistle through the rigging and buffet you; a still place where the boat is as motionless as if it was on dry land.
Oh we have also enjoyed those other bullet-proof little hidey-holes where the wind whistles overhead while we stay safe and protected; content to let the storm rage outside, knowing that we will be untouched, and we have endured nights with both wind and waves, but it is the still places, the ones as still as a graveyard, that give us real peace.
We’ve found some of these spots on Antigua: inside Jolly Harbor, the back of English Harbor, and in most places in Falmouth Harbor.
Falmouth is probably the best. During the day, even if you have anchored up at the head of the bay, close to the mangroves, there may be some wind waves to disturb you, but at night they die off and Falmouth becomes still. You can ask yourself, “Are we still at anchor? Or have we moved into a marina for the night?” You go on deck and you see the motionless anchor lights of the other vessels around you and maybe you hear a dog barking in the distance, but little else.
We love Falmouth.
Now we are in Nonsuch Bay on the east side of Antigua, moored on a bouy at Green Island. It is only six miles from Falmouth and it is another perfect anchorage. Here we are in a small bay protected behind a spit of sand in the island and beyond that the Atlantic swell breaks up on the reef and comes no further. During the day the sun awning shakes and bangs some with wind gusts and small waves may sweep by, but at night it all quiets down.
We love it here as well.
We pass the days lazily, maybe doing a small project or going exploring in the dingy. Yesterday we were ashore and we poked around through the shrubs and agave cactus. Today I got the sewing machine out and we worked on a new canvas seat for a deck chair. Judy went into the water and cleaned the water line. Tomorrow I am meant to go in and do the keel and rudder. Maybe I will.
And she made bread. Since I overhauled the oven it can get up to 425 degrees although a knife must be used to hold the knob in and keep the fire on. I need to fix that. I also helped to knead the dough.
And the little black and red bird from the island which comes into our cabin to search for bread crumbs visited us as soon as Judy took the new loaves out of the oven. We chased him off; I’ll share a cookie with him but the bread is off limits.
This is cruising.
Click here for more shots from Green Island.
Click here for more shots of the little bird.
It’s pouring down rain and I’m supposed to be outside painting the deck.
No such luck.
And because the dodger is off (preparations to paint, of course) and because our old awning has leaks, water is dripping in the hatch.
I could stop the dripping water if I turned off the air conditioner and completely closed the hatch, but a little water is better than no air cond.
So I wait.
We started the painting project a week ago and this is the first serious rain we’ve had. We’re nearly finished and we’re pretty happy; the deck is mostly done, two coats, non-skid which came out OK, the cockpits, fore and aft, are all finished, I've been taking the masking off, and it looks pretty good.
The new color “Winter Frost” (plain white, more or less) is bright. It might be a little tough on the eyes on a sunny day but it is cooler; much cooler. On a hot day you can walk on it. Inside the boat there is less heat radiating from the overhead. The white paint just reflects most of the heat. This will be better.
Now if I can just complete the one small remaining area we can put away the paint pots and masking tape.
Last week, when we had days of blue skies and hot sun, we watched the Black Vultures and Frigate Birds riding thermals high into the sky and soaring for hours. On the morning of our first arrival in Trinidad we were amazed to see dozens of these birds climbing skyward on the updrafts. We thought it was a one-time only event. Since then we have watched them nearly every day.
I am not sure why they do it, but it looks like fun.
Another project we completed this week is new upholstery. It took a while to find a fabric we liked but the old stuff was getting thin, too thin to even patch anymore, and that added urgency to the task. We finally found some we liked and a local guy named Carlos completed the job. It still needs a little adjustment here and there, but mostly we like it. One bonus is that the bed is flat and firm again which helps our backs.
So life goes on in Trinidad: we do boat projects, we go swimming in the morning, there’s bird watching, and we plan our next cruise. We’ve got a little over a month left in Trinidad and we have one more big project, new canvas, which will be a week or so of sewing Sunbrella, then, in early November, we’ll set sail, bound for another port, to start it all over again.
It was a midnight kiss, lots of fireworks which we could hear but not see, and the sound of big ships horns blasting that brought in the new year aboard Wings. We didn't go out, maybe too pooped from the boat projects we'd been working on all day, but we had a good celebration anyhow.
Last year has been great and we are expecting another one just as great.
In a few weeks we will set out to explore the SW African coastline as far north as Namibia, where we are looking forward to a trip ashore to see the Namib desert, then we'll angle off to cross the Atlantic Ocean to Brazil with stops at St Helena and maybe Ascension Island on the way. It will be a big trip but we are up for it. Randy and Laura are coming with us and they should arrive in about 10 days. We are looking forward to seeing them and sailing with them too.
Here in Cape Town we have very glad to be in our snug marina berth at Royal Cape Yacht Club because it has been blowing nearly every day, often over 35kts and a few times over 40 in the marina. Outside I have no idea but we glad we were not out there sailing. However, we've been watching the local boats go out and we've decided that if they can do it we can too. At least we could go downwind in this stuff, and farther north it should get lighter.
(Sometimes the local boats which go out can't come back in it's blowing so hard. They have to tie off the end of the dock and wait for a lull before trying to get back into their berths. This place blows!)
It has been blowing just as hard south of here in False Bay at Simonstown where most of the cruisers go. We visited Jim and Carol on Nepenthe there and not only was it windy but the boats were jumping around in a way which brought back memories of other ports in South Africa we've been to where you have to hold on even down below to keep from falling over.
A side trip we took included Hout Bay and the bird park there World of Birds.
We crawled over the rough gravel road for hours, climbing higher and higher, and wondered if we get across before dark, and that was only the first pass. The second one took us through a narrow gorge and the afternoon shadows had us into darkness.
But at 6:00 PM we came out onto R62, a long straight road through the dry rolling hills on the other side of the mountians and we let the merc stretch its legs.
Getting back to Mossel Bay before dark was easy with that car.
It’s been cool in South Africa and for weeks we’ve been looking forward to spring time.
Now the signs of spring are unmistakable: the days are growing longer, Wings’ heater is no longer required, and, most of all, the Weaver Birds are active.
The locals told us that when the Weaver Birds are active it is a sure sign of spring and boy, the Weaver Birds are sure active. In one nearby tree alone there must be a hundred nests being built by these energetic little yellow creatures and I guess they like to whistle while they work; the peeping is deafening.
The Weaver Birds build nests which hang down like baskets.
With the arrival of warmer weather work has resumed on boat projects all around the boatyard and marina. That includes our own projects and we’re redoing the big hatch on Wings’ bow.
I am a sailor, born of a nautical tradition passed to me by my father and my Grandfather Alfred. I’ve spent most of life on my passion which is the sea and the vessels which go upon them. I have had many such vessels and now I live on and sail on the sloop WINGS.
which I acquired in 1986 with my wife Judy
who shared my passion. For ten years we lived on Wings in Seattle and sailed, including racing. Then we left the Pacific Northwest and voyaged across the world, across the seven seas, to faraway places, and made them our own.
For thirty-eight years I have lived and loved this life. I still live on Wings, in Mexico, and sail and race often. Judy passed away in June, 2023 and I miss her but you can still join us and sail the seas as we did for all those glorious years. Fred Roswold, SV Wings, Mexico