Anam Cara Adventures

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Small Miracles

Port Antonio, Jamaica had a hold on us for longer than anticipated. The reason: huge seas making their way across the Caribbean Sea. With my history of seasickness these were not conditions we voluntarily set out in. So we waited. This did have some advantages. The first was that our friends Tom and Laurel flew down from Florida for three days to check out the boat yard in Port Antonio, which, we had found out, was looking for someone to run it. Dave and I hired a car to drive to Kingston Airport to pick them up, and we had a few lovely days with them. It was wonderful to have our friends visit us, and enjoy some good food, and some sailing together.

One of our big dilemmas was still our weather helm issue, which preoccupied us hugely during our stay in Jamaica. Was our mast raked too far forward or back? Were our new sails improperly cut? We researched and talked to other Tayana owners, but found ourselves at a total loss on how to resolve this problem. Our upcoming passages would be the longest yet, and hand steering for long periods of time with weather helm seemed completely unimaginable. Tom and Laurel, both of whom are expert sailors, offered to take us sailing and help us resolve it. We took Anam Cara out for a day sail together, and they tutored Dave on how to trim our sails for optimal performance. I say they tutored Dave as I was almost instantly throwing up into my "puke bucket". The seas were rolly and large, and with little wind the conditions were such that it took no more than a few minutes for me to get seasick! With a few expert adjustments here and there we experienced no weather helm! We were hugely grateful to both of them, and pray that in stronger winds this issue stays at bay!

While in Port Antonio we heard rumors that a "spy ship" was coming into the harbor. A few days later a grey monstrosity loomed in the small harbor called the HM Swift. Michelle, our social attache, quickly befriended some of the marines at the bar that night, and organized a tour for us all. The next day we all traipsed over there, and under surveillance of soldiers armed with machine guns, we were given the grand tour. This proved to be very interesting. The HSV 2, we learned, is an aluminium catamaran, originally built in Australia as a ferry in the Tasmanian Sea.

The US government has hired the vessel, as it is capable of zooming around the oceans at up to 50 knots! The crew that runs it is civilian, but it is manned by marines whose mission is two-fold: to supply aid to countries in need, and to give "anti-terrorist" and safety training to military in other countries. They had been in the pirate infested waters of NE Africa before heading across to Jamaica, and from what we were told, some of the GIs were incredibly keen on being attacked so that they could actually use their weapons. The huge storage area inside the vessel was equipped with donated items tagged for many countries world wide. There were wheel chairs and lots of medical gear for Haiti, and even a fire truck! To our great surprise the ship had already stopped there,

but all the cargo on tagged with "Haiti" remained on board. The friendly leutenant giving us the tour told us that no matter how often they called the Haitian authorities, they just could not be bothered to come down to the port to pick up the supplies! (Regarding Haiti we heard other stories from cruisers who had taken it upon themselves to load up their boats with items for the Haitian earthquake victims and sailed there for that singular purpose. Much to their disappointment, while the goods were taken from them, they barely received a thank you or even a smile.) On every level of the HSV 2 we saw men in dark glasses and their military outfits standing to attention with their automatic weapons ready to fire at any terrorists that might come into Port Antonio. The whole thing seemed a bit surreal!!! The coolest thing aboard the ship was the steering wheel - a three inch diameter wheel which steers this large vessel into tiny spaces with great accuracy! The guys on the boat were all very friendly, and seemed more than happy to show us around.

Another wonderful event resulted when we asked George, the marina manager where we could pick up some fuel filters we were in desperate need of. Our fuel filter device is ancient, and the filters for it are not easy to come by. We had asked in every port we had been to, and had not had any success. George, who goes home to Kingston on the weekends, offered to go to the chandlery there to find out if they carried them. On Monday morning he came back empty handed, and explained that he had unsuccessfully tried seven stores for our filters. He felt so bad that he hadn't found any that he brought us a freshly roasted bread fruit, and told us how to eat it. We were amazed how delicious it was! We cut slices off the big starchy fruit and slathered them with butter. We ate them for breakfast with some eggs, and they were better than any toast! The flavor reminded me of a mixture between potato and artichoke heart. The following weekend George insisted on trying once more to find our filters. The next Monday, which happened to be the day prior to our departure, he turned up with a huge smile and eleven fuel filters!!!

A supplier he found happened to have stocked these filters for the local buses that used to service Kingston. While the buses no longer operate, the supplier still had eleven fuel filters left on the shelf, and as it happened, the total cost of those filters was exactly the amount we had given George to buy them! We were incredibly happy to receive these treasures, and forever grateful to George who so kindly spent hours on his days off looking for them! Another fine human being we are ever so pleased to know and be friends with!

As we were preparing to leave Jamaica with an upcoming weather window, I was beginning to panic with regards to my seasickness. Our estimated passage time to the Island of Providencia, our next destination, was four days. I felt sure, after my last experience, that in four days of seasickness I would die! I pulled out all our IV supplies and sterile saline bags in case I got severely dehydrated again. I also ran around all pharmacies in Port Antonio and any other town we went to looking for the only remedy for seasickness I had not yet tried - scopolamine patches. None was to be had in any pharmacy in Jamaica. In a last desperate attempt I even emailed my friend and doctor back in California to ask her to call a prescripition into a pharmacy in Florida so Laurel and Tom could bring me some on their visit. Unfortunately she did not get my email in time, even though she would have gladly helped me out. So as a last ditch effort I talked to every boater I encountered and asked if they carried it. On our last day in Jamaica another miracle happened. A lovely Jamaican couple we met (Patrick and Regina

on their boat Esprit) came to the rescue. When I told Regina that I would get down on my knees and beg for this medication, she stepped up to the plate. A friend she had in Kingston also suffered from seasickness, and always brought these patches back from Canada. She would call her friend and see if she could spare one for me. The only trouble with it all - Kingston is a three hour drive from Port Antonio and we were leaving early the next morning! But here again we lucked out. Her husband, Patrick, had driven back to their home in Kingston to take care of a bee infestation in their house. He was, however, not due back until the next day, by which time we would already be underway. To my huge relief he drove back late the night before our departure just to bring me the long sought after drug! I could have cried with gratitude, and again felt immensely humbled by the kindness of strangers. Regina's friend, whom we had never met, parted with her last two patches for me, and Regina made sure that she put one behind my ear that night, just in the right position. The next morning I experienced the first side effects of this medicine - I woke up feeling "drunk" and could barely walk a straight line on the dock. I also had an extremely dry mouth and horrid taste in my mouth, but all of that paled in comparison to feeling seasick, and just to jump ahead, it worked!!!

We spent our last days in Jamaica with Tom and Laurel and our cruising friends. One day we drove up into the mountains with Sam, Alex and Guin from "Splendid", and got to see a bit more of the beautiful island. We made a Thai curry for our new friends, Rosanna, Petter and Teddy on "Lolo", a lovely family who delighted us with their cruising stories and their previous lives living in places like Dubai and Pakistan. Little three year old Teddy must be one of the happiest little kids we had ever met. He did everything with such great joy and enthusiasm, from body surfing in the pool, to playing with Guinevere, his new little buddy! The only thing he hated was to put his little life jacket on in the dingy, and when Rosanna and Petter had to wake him up from a deep sleep after dinner to ride back to their boat, it took a lot of coaxing and sweet talking to get that life jacket on him. We played Mexican train dominos with Roy, Michelle and Russell at the pool in the marina, and did yoga on the small pier on Erroll Flynn's Island. We also sweated a whole lot, as Port Antonio was hot, muggy and so well sheltered that there was very little breeze!`

The day came when we said good-bye to many of our friends, with promises to meet up again somewhere in the future. The weather window arrived on a Tuesday in mid May, and we all did our last minute provisioning at the markets in town, fueled up and filled our water tanks. I said goodbye to my friend at the market who always sold me her delicious fruits and vegetables, and roasted breadfruit for us. With this weather window a mass exodus ensued, and many of us sailed to more southerly latitudes that day to beat the hurricanes! Splendid, Lolo and Aspara left for Cartagena, Columbia, and Dream Odyssey and Anam Cara (that's us!) took off in a more westerly direction, headed ultimately for Panama.

Four Day Passage

On May 18th we motored out of Port Antonio, and spent half a day motoring along the northern coast of Jamaica. Heading the opposite way we encountered quite a few racing boats from all over the world with their spinnakers hanging out in the light breeze. As soon as we rounded the southeast tip of Jamaica we pulled out our sails, set up the windvane, and settled into our passage. Dave had picked up a bad case of dysentery, so he wasn't feeling very chipper, and I had come down with a cold. So we were very happy that the wind was not too strong, and although the seas were rather rolly, I did not get seasick, thanks to the scopolamine patches. I was glad for once to be able to relieve Dave of his duties, as he was definitely not very well off at the time. I dug out some antibiotics and anti-diarrhea medication, and tried to make sure he stayed hydrated. Anam Cara in the meantime, just glided along, with our fabulous windvane holding her on course perfectly. For this we were most pleased, as once again, our autopilot would not cooperate!

For the very first time on a passage, inspite of a sore throat and menstrual cramps and a sick husband, I was able to actually enjoy myself! I was even able to go below and plot our position, AND prepare some food! Now let me describe to you the realities of an ocean passage, and share with you my romantic notions of what it would be like prior to going cruising...

Reality Check

For hours on watch I sit and gaze at the waves, the sky, the stars, the moon, the whales and dolphins... It is a spiritual quest, miles away from anything, alone with nature and God, all of which inspires me to no end. I am composing my new bestseller. When I am hungry, I eat my heart content. When I am tired, I let the waves lull me to sleep in my comfortable seaberth, cosily tucked between the lee cloth and the cushions. This is how I had pictured passage making. I would surely come back to land a more enlightened woman, with huge insights on the mystical aspects of life, all gleaned through the solitude of long watches on our ocean passages...

The reality is just a bit different. This time, at the very least I am NOT hurling into my bucket. I am, however, completely spaced out on my new seasick "drug" - scopolamine. I feel like I have cotton in my head, and my mouth feels like a dried out old fish. So I have to go below a lot to get some water. Going below is like riding on space mountain in Disneyland. You have to hold on tightly and time your every step. Inveriably I add a plethora of new bruises to my body. While in the galley I realize I am also hungry. In my euphoria of actually being able to eat, I am overly ambitious, and decide to heat up some hot water for a gourmet instant "cup-o-noodles soup" with fresh vegetables. This, believe it or not, is the most I have ever managed to cook on a passage! As I accumulate the ingredients on the countertop they keep sliding all over the place and landing on the floor. Ok, forget the fresh vegetables, I will just cut up a green onion. I can only hold on to one thing at a time. The water is boiling. I carefully add the noodles and green onions with one hand, all the while holding onto the pot with the other hand so I don't get burned. Every once in a while I have to stop the whole procedure, and hold on myself when I feel a larger wave throw the boat on her side. And then comes the really tricky part. Serving the soup. To pour it in a bowl, I take the boiling soup off the stove and try to time it perfectly. Oops, there goes most of the noodles and soup - right behind the stove ! Darn! So we will have half a portion each. Oh well, at least it is something hot to eat, which is more than we have had on an ocean voyage before!! Just in case you are wondering, an ocean passage on Anam Cara is the best way to loose weight. Don't go on a diet, just come with us on a passage!

As to the spiritually enlightening watches ... when it finally comes around to sit and guard watch at night, I am so tired that all I can do is set my kitchen timer every fifteen minutes to cast a quick glance around at the horizon and at the GPS and compass. Once assured that we are not about to collide with anything, I quickly curl back up into a twisted ball on the hard cockpit seats, and brace myself with my feet so I don't slide around, and go for my next "nap". I count the hours and then the minutes, until it is my turn to lay down in the sea berth, which allows me to sleep uninterruptedly for three hours. It is stifling hot and humid down below, and the cozy sea-berth is not as cozy as to soothe me to sleep in a minute - but when I do eventually sleep, it is wonderful! Dave and I see each other briefly as we pass each other on our shifts. During the day, sometimes, we are awake together, and hang out. These are the most enjoyable times together. It feels like we are in a small bubble all of our own! The worst moments, you ask? When we are shouting and screaming in panic because we don't have a clue in which direction that mighty big tanker is headed in the night! They never seem to take any notice of us, and we are almost run over two nights in a row on this passage. My heart is in my throat, and we alter course in any direction that will avoid a collision. Other than that we don't see a soul. And apart from talking to Roy and Michelle on Dreamy at pre-set times while we are still in radio range with them, we are on our own!

The navigation in this part of the ocean is somewhat tricky, as there are multiple banks with shallow waters and reefs. We have to weave our course around these obstacles, and of course try to avoid the proverbial squalls. Other than that Neptune is very kind to us, and we slowly make our way south and west, resting as much as we can all the while. On the last morning of our sail the wind is down to about 10 knots and we are sailing along slowly in a light refreshing rain. But it is so pleasant, and we are so tired, that we just stay put and enjoy the slow ride. By now the sea is almost flat, and after a few hours, the island of Providencia comes into sight. Shortly thereafter we are making our way into the anchorage, passing "Morgan's Head" at the entrance. This rock is named after Captain Morgan, who once pirated and plundered these waters.

Providencia

We didn't even know she existed - the Island of Providencia- until we set sail from Jamaica. A small island belonging to Columbia off the coast of Nicaragua. We arrive at the lovely bay, and check in to Customs and Immigration. The Bush agency is there for this reason, and the friendly Mr. Bush (no, not the ex-president of the USA!) gets us through all the formalities. That evening the cruisers there have organized a local dinner, with local dishes to which we are immediately invited. As it turns out we each get a plate full of different starchy roots, all cooked in coconut milk, and some conch cooked in much the same way. After three bites you get the idea and are pretty much full. We are so tired that we retire early from the party, and fall into a deep sleep. For the next week we both find ourselves completely exhausted. The heat, the passage, the lack of nutrition, and Dave's dysentery and my cold have left us without any energy. So we spend most of the week laying around the boat, doing a boat job here and there, and occasionally going ashore for some provisions or a bus ride around the island. The local bus is called the "Chiva" and for $2 you can ride around the whole island or get off wherever you like. Of course you need ear plugs to avoid deafness, as the music blares so loudly! It is a pretty island, reminiscent of the south Pacific, with steep cliffs, and many palm trees. The people are all very friendly, and I am glad to be able to speak Spanish again!

The weather in the Caribbean is changing into the summer pattern of tropical wave after tropical wave. With that come the many squalls, and unsettled weather. For days we have to get up at night to make sure we aren't dragging anchor in the strong winds and choppy seas. The wind shifts to the west, and with that the waves enter into the port. This makes it rather uncomfortable, but we are pretty enured to all this by now, and so it only affects our timing as to when we can get ashore, and when we can't. However, we are still just slightly above the "hurricane belt" and so we daren't linger too long. As soon as we feel strong enough, and the weather is settled we continue our journey.

Cayos Alberquerque

Our next stop is the small atoll of Alberquerque. We have to motor this time as the seas are totally calm and there is no wind at all. We leave Providencia at night and arrive in Alberquerque the next morning. Weaving our way through the reefs with crystal clear water, we end up between two tiny islands. One is the home to some fishermen, and the other is a military base for the Columbian army. As soon as Dreamy and we arrive, the marines swim out to greet us! Young boys of around seventeen of age, they are curious and friendly and invite us to come to their island the next day. That first night we have Roy and Michelle over to share the baracuda Dave caught on the way through the reefs.

We spend two heavenly days anchored here. We are the only boats, and relish the absolute solitude and stillness. We snorkel on the crystal clear reefs, and delight in the abundance of coral and fish, rarely seen any more these days. We take a trip ashore and take up our Columbian friends on their offer to show us their island. These young chaps are sent here as part of their military assignment, and are only there to keep a presence on this territory for their country. No machine guns here! We are shown around their immaculately kept island. The paths are lined with conch shells, and swept clean with palm fronds. They proudly show us their little gym under a thatched palm tree roof, and their sleeping quarters and "hang-out". All of this is pretty much out in the open, except for the palm thatched roofs to keep out the rain. A huge TV is their entertainment. A seperate little building is their kitchen, and a well is their source of washing water. A small grave on the island comes with an interesting story. It is the grave of a young soldier who died here in a fight. Rumor has it that his ghost appears on the island whenever there is any arguing or squabbling going on. What a marked contrast this experience is to the tour of the american war ship. These young men have open, lovely smiles and run around in bathing shorts all day. Their only entertainment is fishing, swimming and watching TV. We leave there feeling enriched by their sweetness and eagerness to meet us and show us around.

The time arrives when we have to depart this paradise, and continue on our journey before the next tropical wave arrives. We stage ourselves on the outside edge of the atoll to leave by sunset. To this effect we end up anchoring in the middle of nowhere. Within minutes a boat appears and approaches us. Our hearts are in our throats, as we have "pirates" in the back of our minds, and so we wait with unsettled feelings as they approach Anam Cara.
"Are you okay?" they ask. "Do you need some help? Are you broken down?"
A sigh of relief, and a bit of shame on our behalf! These kind fishermen saw us anchor in a very odd place, and so they thought we must be in trouble, and came to check on us. Thanks guys!

Miles from Nowhere

Our last hundred and eighty miles to Panama! Again we have to motor, as there is no wind. The flat seas are pleasant enough, but it also means hand steering, as we have no functioning autopilot. So we take turns to keep adjusting the improvised autopilot - the "tied off wheel", which is a bit easier than just staring at the compass non stop. Without a landmark to head for it is remarkably difficult to steer in a straight line! You may wonder why. The boat has a "prop-wash" which comes from the propeller turning in one direction. This makes the boat constantly steer slightly to port. Thus, if left unattended, the boat would just go around in circles. Without visual targets, you have no idea which way you are going unless you look at the compass. And this becomes rather tedious after a while. Hence the idea of tying off the wheel slightly to starboard to compensate. It works to a point, but you still have to sit next to the wheel and adjust it every few minutes. It is much more tiring than when the boat keeps her own course, be it by windvane (which only works under sail) or with the autopilot (which seems to have taken a permanent holiday!).

On the second day in the early morning I notice a couple of buoys in the water. I pay close attention, and I see there is a whole string of them stretched out in front of us. A net??? I call up Dave and we decide to alter our course and go around the "net". We turn ninety degrees, and steer this course due west for five miles, and still there is no end in sight to the line of buoys!! What on earth, we wonder, could be so long?? Eventually we decide that there must be a way across, so with me on the bow, we glide across the line of buoys, and take the propeller out of gear in case there are any ropes we might entangle ourselves with. Luckily whatever is attached to these buoys is deep in the water, and we make it across without incidence. But the whole thing I find really spooky. In the middle of nowhere there is something like this! What animnals get entangled in this mess?? God only knows.

Shortly after the "net" incidence we come across a boat. We keep an eye on it, and to our dismay we see it altering course and heading straight towards us. Who could it be this time? We feel very vulnerable out there all on our own, with a strange boat headed our way, and not knowing their intentions. I say some prayers and hold my breath. A fishing boat, it appears, and it is coming closer and closer. Within about a hundred feet of us, the boat changes course again and passes behind us. Then we notice them casting out their nets, and we hear the men aboard laughing! Phew! It seems they were just trying to avoid us becoming tangled up in their trawling nets. But we are glad, nevertheless, to leave them in our wake...

Panama!

On the second morning, very early, amidst many squalls, we arrive in Panama. It is an exquisitely beautiful dawn, with mist enshrouding the distant mountains. Dreamy is ahead of us, making her way into "Bocas del Toro" (translation: "The mouth of the Bull"). It is an emotional moment. For Roy and Michelle this is the arrival to their new home country, for they have bought a house here, and will be finishing their six year cruising adventure to retire here. For us it is a milestone we didn't know we would achieve. After our first year's mishaps we no longer made plans for our cruising adventure, and yet we made it here! We made it several thousand miles from where we started, and what a feeling! Panama at last!!!

We arrive at the town of Bocas around 0700 on the third of June. One day after my brother's anniversary of leaving this earth, and one day before my sister's birthday. We are tired from our passage, and since it is too early to clear in to customs, we drop the hook and take a three hour nap. Then we all go ashore in Roy and Michelle's dingy and look up the customs guy.

"You're not supposed to be off your boat!" he informs us, and makes us return to our respective vessels with the promise of a visit after lunch. So we take advantage of the extra time and sneak off to have lunch before we return aboard because we are FAMISHED! We order a big lunch special and drink a fresh fruit juice - delicious pinneapple and papaya fruit smoothies! We are in heaven! Then we wash it all down with our first Panamanian coffee, and head back to our boats to clear up before the "inspectors" arrive. And they arrive in style! Four of them on our little boat crowd around the table, and fill out form after form. I prepare them all a cool drink, because it is HOT, and as usual, when I run our water pump, they all look up in astonishment and ask where we keep our dog! And that is after we have declared we have no pets aboard! We laugh and tell them that is no dog, it is just our old water pump which sounds like a dog. They take it all in good stride, and are a jolly bunch! We have to go back the next day and get special stamps at a bank, then walk to the airport and have the lady stick them in our passport. Then we have to go back to the port captain and pay more money to receive our cruising permit. All the fees add up to almost $250!! Another dent in our budget! BUT, we have arrived, and I am extremely happy and satisfied, and we look forward to exploring this beautiful country we have heard so much about!