We made it!

I just want to say up front that seven and half days at sea is about 6 and half days too many for me!  We sailed from the eastern side of Puerto Rico to Marsh Harbour in the Abacos in the Bahamas, leaving early in the morning of May 22 and arriving in the afternoon at the Conch Inn Marina today, March 29.

On Monday, March 21, we left Puerto Del Rey Marina and sailed five miles east to Isla Los Palominos (didn't see any palominos), where we anchored for the night.  It was lovely.  I snorkled after we anchored and I snorkeled in the morning before we left.  For me, one of the great advantages of owning our own boat is access to snorkeling sites.  For Peter, on the other hand, it's all about the sailing, and the boat provides endless entertainment for an engineer.

Sunset at Isla Los Palominos

Enjoying a beer and a meal on deck

We thought we would sail for two or three days and then spend a bit of time in the Turks and Caicos. It did not turn out that way.  The good news is that neither of us became seasick; we seem to have our sea legs back.  Although the seas were 4-6 feet, the waves were consistently coming from the same direction as the wind.  We were on a broad reach almost the whole time (the wind was behind us, you landlubbers!) so we had following waves.  There were times over the week when the waves got up to 8-10 feet, but we were still comfortable.  The wind speed was great, 15-20 knots, sometimes up to 25 knots.  Mantra can handle that easily, even without a reef in the mainsail (although we did put a reef in for safety overnight a few nights).  We easily averaged 8 knots while sailing, and I saw it get above 12 knots! This was exhilarating!

However, I can only stand so much excitement--if you want to call it that.  Even at a good speed, the voyage got monotonous.  The cobalt to navy blue sea stretched in all directions, highlighted by a few whitecaps.  Rarely, another vessel could be spotted, but otherwise we were alone.  I love reading, but I cannot do that for hours and hours a day.  I could play games such as Scrabble or gin, but Peter was only humoring me by playing.  I spent a lot of time sleeping.  At night, on watch, there was a lot of time to think about the ways in which sound is generated by wind and waves and other natural phenomena and other esoteric things.  (If a wave breaks in the ocean and no one is there to hear it, does the sound exist?  Ideas from college philosophy courses and the thoughts of George Berkeley, the 18th century Irish philosopher, came to my mind in the darkness.)

One way of dealing with the monotony

In contrast, Peter was never bored.  He could always find something to contemplate about the boat and sailing if he was not actually jumping up to tweak the sails or rearrange something.  I have no idea how anyone who is not an excellent engineer takes care of his boat.  Peter does not just putter around the boat.  He inspects, he takes pre-emptive action, he maintains, he repairs, he improves, and he spends time examining and learning everything possible about the rigging, the engine, the generator, the sails, the numerous electronics and all the systems.  There is always something that is intellectually and/or physically challenging for him.  I really appreciate his capabilities, his diligence and his hard work.  But, it also means that he is always occupied while I am bored to tears at time.

The view from Mantra between Puerto Rico and the Turks and Caicos

We have definitely determined that I am not psychologically compatible with passage-making.  I will not be sailing the boat to Europe or the South Pacific, although I am more than willing to take a flight to wherever Peter takes Mantra when land is within a day's reach.

We reached Grand Turk after a couple of days and dropped anchor on the leeward side shortly before sunset.  After finishing the log and tidying up the lines, I opened the stern gate, grabbed the snorkeling gear (and Peter this time) and swam around near the boat.  The water in the Turks and Caicos is crystal clear, with different depths revealing various shades and values of blues and greens.  We saw a baracuda, rays, fish and a small turtle missing a back flipper.  It was wonderful to not be moving, and the anchorage was comfortable.  Cockburn Town on Grand Turk looked like a lovely place, and we would have gone to shore, but we could not raise customs and immigration on the radio, so we finally gave up and set sail again the next morning (after I had snorkeled again and Peter had amused himself with the boat).

Grand Turk

Peter altered our plan from sailing to the Abacos directly to include a stop partway there, at Mayaguana in the Bahamas.  The seas became higher but not uncomfortable and the wind stayed constant.  I was able to read and play anagram by myself, but not all my waking hours.  I felt trapped on the high seas!

Another couple of days brought us to Abraham's Bay on Mayaguana.  I am not sure that I would call it a bay; it was a long reef offering some protection from the sea but not the 20-25 knots of wind.  Even the seas were choppy in this bay.  We decided not to stay.  I would have snorkeled, but there was only patchy sunlight and the chop was not inviting.  Peter fixed a couple of things, we pulled up anchor and set off again, with gray weather around us.

Same North Atlantic, different location

By two nights ago, we were both tired, and in the middle of the night we made a couple of small errors with the running rigging while tacking.  After a couple of attempts of tacking under sail, which should have run smoothly, we turned on the engine to get way.  Then, in addition to our other flubs, such as forgetting to loosen the running backstay, I did not turn the engine off properly.  It was off, but the gearing was stuck in forward.  It wasn't until hours later, during daylight hours, that we realized that this had occurred, when we tried to use the engine again and couldn't move the gear shifter from reverse to neutral.  The prop being stuck in the wrong position most of the night had slowed us down by a knot or two, meaning we could not make it Marsh Harbour during daylight hours on May 28, our goal.  After motoring for three hours yesterday, we did make it into the Sea of Abaco and anchored off Tilloo Cay, but we were still bound to the boat and the surrounding water because we had not cleared customs and immigrations.  When Peter asked me what I wanted to do next, I told him I wanted to catch the next plane out of Marsh Harbour!  It was not a joyous 24th wedding anniversary.

Today is a better day.  We got off the boat!  We are now at Conch Inn Marina, the same marina where we rented a catamaran three years ago.  (That was a great vacation on the water with friends but it convinced us that we are monohull sailors.)  After clearing customs and immigration, we were able to leave the marina.  We had to walk to the Customs office in order to check out immediately after checking in since we are leaving in the morning.  We also had to find an ATM in town to cover the costs of clearing in ($300) and then clearing out ($75).  After all the official business was taken care of, we bought some groceries and then called a taxi to take us to the marina.  The very friendly driver took us to the bakery and the beer store on the way back.  (The grocery store does not have fresh bread or alcohol--or a deli section or meals to go, for that matter)  We could and did buy a case of Diet Coke at the grocery store.  We had not bought any in Puerto Rico, and the lack of my favorite beverage was definitely a hardship for me on the weeklong journey here.  Even though Peter hates that I drink it, even he agrees that it is necessary at this time.

Peter enjoying lunch and a local beer at Snappa's