Judy and Meridel and Turks and Caicos - Part I

[Computer charger cord finally came in today, April 3, so we are back in the blogging business from George Town!]

Judy and Meridel are two lovely ladies from Portland Oregon who have been Lene's friends for 18 years, and mine for the last 15 but despite a lot of travel, had never before visited Turks and Caicos.

We beat our way the 16 miles from the uninhabited Big Sand Cay, to Grand Turk (north and then east) in relatively light wind, passing the west side of Salt Cay, where Judy and Meridel were that day. We tied up to the dock there to facilitate the embarcation of our guests the next day; what a mistake! The dock's surface was five feet above ILENE's deck and while I could scramble up and down, the guests would not have been able to do so. Also, this height difference meant that the concrete dock edge was chewing through our mooring lines. And to make matters worse, they charged an additional $20 "berthing fee" for the privilege. So as soon as I had filled out the papers and paid the $50 entry fee to Customs, we slipped from the dock and anchored about 50 yards off the ferry dock. Next to us was "Tamera Sue" which had been part of the flotilla crossing the Mona Passage. Tammy and Joe took off our three bags of garbage to the dumpster, later gave us two mangos and located a restaurant on the beach near where a Holland American liner had just departed.

Next morning after finishing cleaning we were waved at from the 40 foot ferry boat. Its operator let me tie up to the ferry, which was the only convenient way for Meridel and Judy and their luggage to come aboard ILENE.Our guests listened patiently to the full safety lecture: fire, water, man overboard and abandon ship, they selected berths, and we exchanged gifts -- hats and shirts. They unpacked other treats for the kitties a special salad dressing for Lene and life preservers for the cats. have you ever seen a less happy cat?

We dinked to the beach near the restaurant to see the island and then a disaster struck: well disaster is too strong a word, but Lene fell out of the dink while disembarking, soaking herself,  but worse,  her blackberry. Even immediate drying and emersion in a bag of rice would not revive it; but Verizon let her transfer her account to my Blackberry, which is why it is not a disaster.  We rented a car and toured Grant Turk: Its charming old sea side village;

lunched at the Osprey Inn;

and visited the supermarket, drugstore and postoffice and the historic Northeast Lighthouse.

It was built in England and shipped and reassembled here in the 19th century to warn shipping off from the reef, extending 2.8 miles northeast from the island, top right.
It reminded me of NE point on Block Island, but more rocky.
Tammy Sue had also told us of a parachute ride business which was taking out guests for free to train their crew and we took a ride-- high and exciting. Ladies first, just after launch and them Roger before take- off and high.

Next day another near disaster: As we were putting up sail, Lene went up to take Alphie from her favorite perch -- in the stack pack,

and got whacked on her left forehead by a short motion of the boom. Only witnesses, the truth, my reputation for gentleness and arnica gel have protected me from accusiations of spousal abuse. Ilene cried for a few minutes and said "I can't go on like this." But a few minutes later, she was back in action.
 We sailed most of the 32 miles to Ambergis Cays -- two small islands shaped like a backward "L" with the corner missing. We gybed first a bit south of west and then a bit north, to get the wind from directly behind us. Then after crossing the Columbus Passage (everyone here wants to claim him) we entered the Caicos Bank.  This meant crossing from water that was 6000 feet deep to only 25 feet deep in much less than 1/4 mile of horizontal distance. The effect is that the waves, which were low out in the deep, got steep as the depth sharply bottomed out.  Once we were on the Bank, we had furled sail as a precaution, the waves became small, but a new problem arose: Coral Heads.  The cruising guide warned us about them-- black against the yellow sandy bottom. Here is one, but it is not SO black, so maybe its a harmless seaweed clump. The need to look out for them gives rise to the one rule for crossing banks at night: "Don't!"

 So here's Lene, out on the bow, to look for them and hand signal me to turn right or left to avoid them.

There were more of them in the last few miles from entry on the Bank to Ambergris than the rest of the way. I once turned back, seeking a clearer way through them and we were not used to them yet. Big Ambergris is the site of a failed development project and is private, inhabited, and has an airfield  but did a poor job of sheltering us from the wind. It is ringed by reefs and shallow water and we anchored in 12 feet of water with 100 feet of  chain out. we were a mile from each key-- in the middle of nowhere.
Eventually we saw another sailboat, a mile from us, but the water was choppy and we did not explore.











 A cheesy snack before dinner:

 We did get a good night's sleep after Lene taught our guests a new card came -- and Meridel won!

Next day was the 32 miles from Ambergris to French Cay, across the southern part of the Bank in 12 feet of water -- the same depth as much of ILENE's home in Eastchester Bay, but oh so visible feet here.  It was calm and though we put up the main, we motored all the way. It was like sailing in an acquarium with its visible sandy bottom showing each clump of seaweed and rock. This photo shows our shadow on the bottom: left to right, the anchor hanging down, the forestay, Roger on lookout, and the mainsail, with bits of grass on the bottom. Next sunbeams, reflected on the surface by the alabaster clouds:

French Cay is a sandbar about .2 by .4 miles. We anchored behind it in 12 feet of water and dinked 300 yards to shore. It is a wildlife sanctuary and various flocks of birds were soaring overhead and screeching. The book says no one should land but there was no one else there to complain about our entry except "Viau" who we had passed during the passage.

 I saw flocks of piping plovers skittering along the beach, the same birds whose nests have caused areas of North Shore Long Island beaches to be roped off.  I saw the footprints of others. We soaked in the warm waters. Snorkeling was not done because it would have required anchoring the dink over a reef, which harms the reef and would require climbing back from the water into the dink, which our guests thought that they could not manage.We invited Jens and Hanne of Viau for a shared dinner.
They brought fish balls, a delicious dipping sauce and a bottle of wine. We made steaks and chops and
veggies and rice.  Jens was the organizer of our little flotilla from Puerto Rico. They live near Copenhagen and have excellent English. Meridel and Judy enjoyed the sailing talk even though they did not understand all of it. Meridel, Hanne and Lene, followed by Roger and Jens:

And humans can't have all the fun!
Our final sea day with our guests was from French Cay to the Southside Marina in Providenciales, called Provo by everyone. It is on the big developed northwesternmost Caicos, about 16 miles to the north. This meant some type of beam reach. In light air we flew full main and genoa and hit 7 knots for a bit, but the wind was too light to be exciting. We enjoyed a breakfast of pancakes filled with diced mangos, garnished with papaya,

and delayed our departure until 1:30 pm in order to try to arrive at 5 pm at the height of the tide.






 Lene, Judy (who took a lot of these photos and hence is not in them) and Meridel:

Bob Pratt, the marina owner, came out in a motor boat to the second of two waypoints he had given us, to pilot us in. Even at that, we briefly touched the sandy bottom on the final approach into the Marina where a bar had formed. Southside Marina is a small (12 slips), well run, owner operated and occupied business hewn and dredged out of the limestone strata that comprise the island.  Slips are only $50 per night and there are many services for residents: rides to markets and the barber, a cheerful daily weather report on a VHF communications net, and a daily BYOB (and bring your own snacks) to share at a happy hour under the gazebo which foments familiarity and camaraderie among the boaters. And here, after our first happy hour, the sea based part one of our visit with Meridel and Judy ended.