June 5 - 9 -- Bermuda, Aboard Rusee de Jersey

My flight from Newark was flawless and on time. Well I screwed up by leaving my cellphone charging in the the waiting area. But after a frantic search in all my many pockets at my seat I ran off the plane and got it.    At Bermuda’s airport I paid an unexpected $35 departure tax. It's because I’m not flying out and  it’s $50 if you fly, but built into the airfare, so you don't notice.   Yves met me, we walked to a nearby beach, and dinked to “Russee de Jersey”. The only problem was a rather fast "slow leak" from the dink’s two tubes. My seat got wet in the light chop. It is not a RIB.    Rusee, Yves explained, translates from the French as clever or trickster as in the English word “ruse”.  When Yves tried to register her, Rusee was too close to Rosee, which was used by someone else. He bought her on the Channel Island of Jersey. He  asked and voila: The Ruse from Jersey. In the foreground.

Built in 1987, she is one of thousands of Kelts that were launched before that French company too went bankrupt. Yves has sailed various boats since he was a teenager and has seven Atlantic crossings under his belt, one solo! He made major structural changes to Russee including extending her waterline by adding a sugar scoop style swim platform, perhaps two feet long.

One interesting feature is that the main halyard runs from the top of the mast to a block which he attaches to the head of the main and back up. This reduces the force needed to raise the main by half, allowing Yves’ lovely, wife, Dominique, a dancer (who had brought Rusee to Bermuda from the Caribbean with him) to raise it with a winch that is not electrified. But it makes the halyard twice as long, too. The same main halyard is also used to raise the dink to the foredeck nightly. The propeller of the dink is set into a plastic bucket so that it does not mar the deck. This could not work on ILENE unless we got rid of the wing-like trim tabs on the outboard. Lifting the dink not only deters theft, but retards marine growth on her bottom. It only grows during the portion of the day when she floats.
Upon arrival, even before unpacking, we motored to the south end of Castle Harbor and re-anchored. I also learned how to raise the centerboard by cranking its line, led to the starboard coach-roof winch. This board does not swing up from a forward pivot point, but slides up through a diagonal hole in the bottom of the boat. And it is not heavy like a keel but is more of a centerboard. The enclosure of the hole through which it slides divides the two forward cabins.
We spent the rest of the day just talking before dinner, dishes and bed. My berth is aft of the rudder post and large: perhaps 6.5 by 4 feet, and runs athwartship with my head to starboard and feet to port. It has two small opening ports facing aft which let in the cool night breeze but have to be kept closed when underway, to prevent waves from potentially entering.
Yves patched the leak in the dinghy under Rusee’s strong deck light while I slept.
Our days involved morning repairs and afternoon touring. The cockpit table was missing a dowel upon which two of its four legs pivoted. My idea was to use a piece of pencil and Yves had a round one. We sawed off a 1.5” long piece and sanded it down to decrease its diameter to fit. My thought was to glue it into one hole, let the other end pivot in the adjacent hole and place a screw through most of its length with our “dowel” providing substance for the screw to "bite". But in the end, I somehow misplaced the piece we had created and in searching for it we found the original steel pin that had fallen out. But the repair was improved by mixing up several small batches of two part epoxy (several because each hardens so fast) and using a thin wood coffee stirrer to spread it into the shattering cracks in the ends of the legs to fuse each of them solid. Good for another 20 years.
We pulled the Speedo wheel (and plugged the hole in the bottom of the boat) in order to clean off the growth on it, bathed it in vinegar for an hour, lubricated the “O” rings with Vaseline, reinserted it and then mopped and pumped out the water that gushed in during the second when the hole was unplugged. Rusee’s bilge is rather flat, without a deep sump, so the mopping up process is complicated.
Yves snorkeled under the boat to check and scrape off marine growth. The dink was partially re-inflated to test the fix, and it seemed to hold.

We pulled the Speedo wheel (and plugged the hole in the bottom of the boat) in order to clean off the growth on the speedo, bathed it in vinegar for an hour, lubricated the “O” rings with Vaseline, reinserted it and then mopped and pumped out the water that gushed in during the seconds when the hole was unplugged. Russee’s bilge is rather flat, without a deep sump, so the mopping up process took a while.

Yves snorkeled under the boat to check and scrape off marine growth.    One afternoon we visited the Mid Ocean Club in Tucker’s Town, where we had Dark and Stormys (the national drink of Bermuda), used their WiFi and found another, smaller leak which Yves located and patched that night. One meal was salad and concoction of shell pasta, sweet peas, and Euro style bacon in a light sauce of double creme, lemon juice and chopped fresh mint which I have noted only because I plan to look up the name and recipe for this dish when I get back to Internet

Except for the last night we were in Castle Harbour, a huge harbor (with some shoal areas) inside the northeastern end of the 18 mile long nation – smaller than Manhattan.  

 Its SW side is partially enclosed by a string of islands. One of them, Castle Island has a fortress (castle) on it. The British built the forts here for the same reason that we built so many of our eastern seaboard forts, such as Fort Adams in Newport -- for protection against potential enemies. The British thought of the US and France as such.

This lucky shot got the castle with a White Tailed Tropicbird, the symbol of Bermuda, lower left. The nation, to my eye, has the shape of a large clawless lobster, lying on its back, tail curled in with its head to the ENE.

The cruise ships used to dock in St. George’s Harbour, just north of us, but now dock inside the tip of the lobster’s curled up tail, in Great Sound, the largest harbor, which contains the capital city of Hamilton and Bermuda’s Royal Yacht Club, which is where I stayed when I helped sail “Thai Hot” back to the Harlem YC after the Marion to Bermuda race in about 2007. That was my first multi-day ocean passage and only prior visit to Bermuda. We are securely anchored just behind the eastern tip of land so we hear the ocean’s roar outside but are quite protected. That whole area is called Tucker’s Town and it has a lagoon which is very well protected. We dinked to that lagoon, tied the dink to mangroves and waded ashore in water less than knee deep.

One morning Yves found the head was hard to flush, impacted. Yves asked if I had accidentally flushed toilet paper. He dived and tried to get at the problem from the bottom of the boat. Next he had to undo the end of the sanitary hose leading the discharge from the head to its the seacock. This made a smelly mess in the bilge associated with that seacock; Russee has many small bilges. Finally Yves concluded that the lever that turns the seacock has become disassociated from its ball in partly open position. He did not have a large enough wrench aboard for the replacement, not the part, and to insert it will also require that Rusee be out of the water. So we will “see how it goes” with a wooden plug nearby, just in case. Finally cleanup of the area with pump, turkey baster and then rags handled with rubber gloves and washed with Clorox, seawater and finally fresh water. I cleaned rust from the stainless steel and marks on the decks. Yves’ cleansers worked excellently.

Anther adventure was to the furthest part of Castle Harbor, near the causeway. We passed Tom Moore’s Tavern, since 1652, with four friendly big cats eating.

Then through a park to a posh resort for a beer and WiFi. The resort has a grotto, an underground cavern, with stalactites and stalagmites (I’ve forgotten which are which) and a natural pool of sea water, with steps and a ladder so one can swim. Electric lights dimly light the place but without warming sunlight the water seemed as cold as Maine’s. We each took a refreshing dip.

We hiked to Yves and Dominique’s favorite ice cream stand. It is open six days a week but not Fridays. But the restaurant across the street, the Swizzle Inn, served rum swizzle ice cream so we had dessert before dinner.  The dinghy ride back to Rusee was a long one with the wind in our faces and our 2.5 hp outboard. But last night’s repair held up. No major leaks of air from the tubes.  While we were away we ran the noisy gas powered Honda 2000 electric generator. Also running was the wind generator and the solar panels. The electricity hog is the refrigerator.  An outdoor shower before dinner.

I’m very well equipped for the expected cold Canadian weather, but less so for the t shirt and shorts weather we have had so far and expect to continue to enjoy until about a day before we reach Halifax.  Yves drove the boat to near the airport, anchored and took the dink in to get Greg and his luggage.

It was great to see Greg again and he brought gear for serious ocean fishing. 








Yves drove the boat out into the Atlantic and back into the little bay among the islands, very near to where we had spent the first three nights, but on the outside. But the wind direction and speed and shallow depths caused us go back inside. Next pic shows the inside from the outside. Our anchor was dropped behind the rocks, just at the edge where the yellow turns to blue.

We spent the afternoon catching up, telling sailing stories and with a bottle of rum. This after a delightful swim. The bottom is pure yellow sand without any rocks, pebbles, shells or grasses.  The water near us was only five feet deep. The area is a favorite for local people and day charter captains bring folks out for excursions. I swam over to a boat with two couples and invited them to share our drinks but they declined. A party boat full of about ten young people came. Many of them scaled the cliffs of Castle Rock and jumped into the sea from an estimated 25 feet up. Two beautiful and very fit young mermaids swam by and were attracted by Rusee’s maple leaf flag. Both are squash pros. Melanie was recruited from Yellowknife in Canada to practice her profession in Bermuda and she had invited the others. Her companion was Samantha from Toronto.   Eventually Yves cooked dinner, and we stayed talking till Yves noticed that it was 12:17 AM.

• We motored out of Castle Harbor, around St. David’s Point with St. David’s Light and through the channel into St. George’s Harbor. About five miles. We circled s/v "Argonauta" with Sherry and Giorgio aboard. They have circumnavigated, hung with Yves in the Caribbean, and intend to depart for Halifax with us. We anchored, dinked ashore, used the free public WiFi, talked with them for a half hour and then had beers and french fries at a waterfront table. 

Then we checked out the 160 foot  megayacht, Georgia,

and took a five mile hike around the northeast end of Bermuda. Met nice folks, ducks and cows, and toured forts and a  development.  And in the process we  developed a hunger for dinner, consumed at Wahoo Grill, another waterside table. Our first and only meal ashore in Bermuda (ice cream, french fries and drinks are not meals).  After dinner, the others took in some more WiFi but I had no battery left in my phone so wandered off to talk with some folks tied dockside in their 64 foot Swan. They spend their winters in the Caribbean and summers in Newport. The lady of the boat, Norma, originally from Long Island, has been to the Harlem YC with a friend and remembered it fondly. I invited her to an Old Salts session in July.  Here are some of the sights during our walk.

This church did not burn; it was just never finished.

Bougainvillea

See the man in the kayak?

The Three Musketeers.

Condo under construction

Wee family on a 30 foot wide beach

Yves feeding green grass to cows

Same name as my granddaughter

We ride in the dink with the air pump; when things get too squishy due to tiny remaining leaks, we just pump her up a bit . Yves plans to replace her this year. Our last night in Bermuda was peaceful like the others.

May 31 - June 2-- The USS Slater DE 766 and Crew Replacement

Following a period of mourning after the loss of our beloved Witty, we have adopted a young cat to keep Alphie company and restore ILENE's crew to its full complement. He is an orange tabby like Witty, but without the white spots, and his tabby pattern is more subdued; so he is more just a plain tan cat. And he's not a wee kitty like Witty was when we got him, but an estimated five years old. He apparently had a home in his youth but ran away, got lost or was put out and lived on the streets for a while before being trapped and rescued from a garbage can in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, and placed for adoption. He was quite fearful, terribly shaggy, did not groom himself (which I think is contra-instinctual in cats) and did not play or permit himself to be petted. And it does not help that Alphie hissed at him for invading her home; she is just not a very friendly cat. But the new boy has made great progress on all of these fronts during his first two weeks with us, especially because of Lene's expert use of food as a motivator. He loves to eat, but does not wolf his food down like a dog as Witty did. His name is copied from the name of  Frank and Jules' Grenadian cat: Cruiser -- though Lene has an affection for Buster instead. So as Cruiser he is a copy cat. I think the name Cruiser is aspirational because he has not been on the boat yet. We want him to feel more at home in our apartment and with us before that test.

The three day weekend was spent at the Berkshire International Film Festival. My first such festival and I'm not favorably inclined to the format. It is binge watching of movies, without time to absorb them. And we were turned into poor guests toward our hosts, Stan and Susan; due to the frenetic scheduling required by the festival, we never got a chance to dine with them. Lene saw nine movies in 48 hours; too much!
I saw two less films but drove the hour from Great Barrington MA to Albany NY to visit the USS Slater DE 766, now a history museum. Hugh, my shipmate and replacement as Anti Submarine Warfare Officer on the USS Hammerberg DE 1015, back in 1967 had told me about the Slater and the visit was a treat. I got there shortly before the 10 A.M. opening and had the benefit of sharing our tour guide, Paul, with only one other tourist, Charlie. Paul was an excellent docent His day job is at a local university and he has been doing this volunteer job for about nine years. He knew the answers to all of our questions and would have extended our tour beyond the 90 minutes he spent with us if we had had more. Charlie was wearing an Oriental NC tee shirt and that tow gets few visitors other than by water. So I asked and yes, he is a fellow cruiser, returning his sloop, White Seal, to her hailing port in Lake Champlain from the winter in the Bahamas. His dad had served on a DE in WWII. Here they are with Slater's forward 3" gun.

Slater was built in Tampa Florida, commissioned in May 1944 and saw only seven years of service, starting in WWII, before being transferred to the Greek navy in 1951. She served there, named the Aetos, for 40 years, until 1991, when they were about to scrap her and she was acquired by the museum as its home. Hammerberg, by way of contrast was built in Bath, Maine, commissioned only eleven years later, in March 1955 but served our nation for eighteen years until decommissioned in December 1973 and scrapped several years later.
Other interesting differences between the two ships: Slater is 306 feet long compared to Hammerberg's 314, and only draws nine feet, half of Hammerberg's eighteen. The draft difference, I believe, was due to Hammerberg having been refitted with a huge sonar dome under her bow during my two years aboard her. Both ships had a beam of about 36.75 feet, though in my memory Hammerberg seemed wider at the stern. My perception of this more spacious stern may have been due to Slater's two depth charge racks compared to Hammerberg's one, and the crowding with many guns aft. Got me thinking of length to beam ratios. ILENE, like  the clipper ships of old, is fast because she is narrow, about 3.5 times as long as she is wide. Modern sailboat designs are wider. Hammerberg was 8.5 times as long as she was wide!
The most interesting difference between the ships was in their propulsion. Hammerberg was powered with steam boilers, had only one propeller (like ILENE) and could achieve 27 knots. Slater had two props each powered by a diesel-electric engine but could achieve only 21 knots. So Slater was more maneuverable but slower. Why? Slater's mission was to protect convoys against German U-boats. And convoys, by definition, had to stick together and could go only as fast as the slowest boat, perhaps less than ten knots. Hammerberg's mission was to screen aircraft carrier task groups against submarines and carriers could go much faster, indeed faster than Hammerberg! Only once during my time with her did Hammerberg make her 27 knots, in a sea trial after refit in the shipyard, and only for the required two minutes. And EVERYTHING was shaking during those two minutes! I had known that diesel turbines were used in DEs built after hammerberg, and was surprised to learn that they were used before her as well. Hammerberg was built very much on the cheap, with 1/4 inch plateng compared to Stater's 5/8 inch. We truly were expendable.
Though slightly smaller, Slater had a larger complement of men and officers: 201 and 15, compared to Hammerberg's 157 and 13.

The depth charges and their racks had a special interest for me because I may have rolled the last depth charge the Navy ever dropped, after getting permission months in advance from everyone. Slater did not have homing torpedoes like we had. Hammerberg did not have the short guns that powered the charges off the sides, but our cans were the tear drop shaped ones rather than the cylindrical ones shown on Slater's aft racks.

Slater launches her wooden motor whale boat off the starboard side annually but Don told us that this takes a lot of men about three hours -- to swing the davit arms out and then lower her away. This reminded me of the saddest moment of the service that Hugh and I had on Hammerberg. Due to several mistakes, including not having swung the davits out in advance, the resultant delays cost the life of a helicopter pilot that we should have been able to rescue. I had always expected a Board in Inquiry into this death but was never called to testify.

Looking forward, if things go as planned, this may be my final posting in June. I'm flying to Bermuda on June 5 to sail Yves' French-built boat with Yves, who we met in Quebec City in 2018 and Greg, who we met in Halifax in 2017. Our destination is Canada, with plans to sail her first to Halifax, and, if I have not worn out my welcome by then, with a few intermediate stops, to Prince Edward Island.  Don't worry, I'll tell you all about it.

May 20 - 30 -- First Old Salts Sail, Two Sail Dates With Lene And Damage and Repairs

One of our Harlem members called me to report that while he was trying to moor his boat nearby, it had hit ILENE and damaged a lifeline stanchion which he would pay to replace. He is a friend and a standup guy but I had to report back, after next I sailed. that it was two stanchions, not one. They are the ones that frame the port side gate. The aft of the two damaged ones is not broken off like the forward one, but I knew it was damaged when I tried to grind the winch and its handle would not turn past the inward bent stanchion. He also said that he would pay for the lifelines which were kinked, but I told him that while I would replace them, the kinks had occurred when I had hit a boat's anchor in Hyannisport in 2016.
There are also some mechanical problems related to the stanchions -- drilling holes near the bases of the stanchions where they get screwed into place in their brackets and on the sides of them where diagonal braces are screwed in, plus potential problems removing the lower part of the broken stanchion which seems stuck in its base. But I have asked the member who hit me -- he has good mechanical skills -- to work with me, instead of my hiring someone else to do the work. The good news is my discovery that e the stanchions are intended to hold up lifelines to prevent folks from falling overboard, they have a secondary beneficial effect. They absorbed the impact of the other boat's twelve tons to protect ILENE's hull! The equivalent of a car's bumpers. The other good news: ILENE is sailable without this repair.
Other problems were smaller:
1  One of the allen bolts at the ends of the pin that holds the end of the main sheet to the traveler block fell out. Fortunately I found the pin with the other bolt, making buying a new bolt easy to find. Meanwhile a big knot at that end of the sheet stops it at the first sheave so we can sail.
2  Another allen wrench was taken to the hardware store to size the correct set screw that holds the port side of the tube/frame of the dodger in its deck socket. The tube slipped out of the socket and while reinstalling, I dropped the screw which bounced overboard! But removing the tube from its socket made stretching the dodger to the frame much easier than ever before.

3  I got a new pickup stick due to my failure to communicate with Lene -- we drove over the dead one, not harming the boat but destroying the stick. Temporarily, an empty one gallon water bottle became a float which I picked up with the boat hook.
I also spent a few hours cleaning the interior of mildew on the cabin roof. Yeah, Clorox!

And I remeasured the bow roller for the anchor which is being eaten away by the chain. I checked and the roller rolls freely when the weight of the anchor is removed. Most of the time the chain is snubbed rather that putting the weight of the boat on the roller. I have finally located a vendor who makes such rollers of a more durable plastic..

We had two lovely evenings of dinner and theater with sailing friends (one, actually, without the dinner) and I led a Club cruise planning meeting to which four boats contributed their ideas. If everyone's plans coalesce, ILENE will spend the first seven of an eleven day cruise with three or four other Harlem boats. The group will visit Watch Hill, RI and Three Mile Harbor on the north side of Long Island's south fork. At that point the group will turn back west and ILENE will detach eastbound for the exploration of up to 26 other ports/anchorages in Rhode Island.

And the second half of my two part article about our favorite ports in Maine is out in the current June issue of Points East magazine. Pointseast.com. "Favorites", not "Best," because we have only visited 27 percent of Maine's ports so far, and because  "best lists" are so subjective. And the Long Island equivalent of Points East, Wind Check, is interested in an article about our recent catamaran experiment which I will write up when it rains or gets too cold. Windcheck is for New York and Connecticut waters what Points East is for New England.

The Harlem's Wednesday afternoon group, the Old Salts, had their first sail of the 2019 season. Per our tradition, this was after lunch at the Club. I predict that a new salad created by Chef Anne: "Chicken Avocado", will be a big favorite. Creamy, crunchy, spicy, healthy and yummy is how I described it: what's not to like!  Seven of us sailed in moderate and light winds. When the wind temporarily failed entirely, we just broke out the "apres sail" libations a bit earlier until it came back.

Lene joined me for two day sails with other friends: first for 5.5 hours with Sheila, who has sailed with us many times, and her friend Babette, who has sailed in the past but never aboard ILENE or on Long Island Sound. The next day was enjoyed for 4.5 hours with Jeff, now a newly minted MSW who was too busy studying to sail with us the past two summers. Each day we headed across Eastchester Bay, jibed onto a port tack and got to or almost to Peningo Neck at Rye before heading for home. The first trip had variable winds, with the strongest in Hart Island Sound. There we were close hauled and I worried that we would need to motor for a minute to get around The Blauses; we got to 6.5 knots in puffs. But we had to use the engine for about an hour after the turn, before the winds came back.  We planned to hang and lubricate in the cockpit for a while before going in to dinner, with Lene's brother, Ken, and our nephew, Mendy. They drove out to join us. But the skies were very threatening so we called for the launch and got back into the clubhouse not two minutes before a tropical style deluge that lasted ten minutes.
Next day with Jeff, the wind was stronger and we achieved eight knots on a close reach with the full main and small jib on the way out, slower on the return. One disappointment: outbound we were gaining on a boat, later identified as Laughter, a beautiful metallic green C & C which is smaller and was under reefed main and genoa. But then I was inattentive and the wind changed and she pulled away from us again. I congratulated her owner for winning the "race" when we passed Laughter on her mooring back in the Harlem's mooring field.

May 8 - 19 -- Launch, GIC and ILENE's First Sail of 2019!

And five work days (27 hours) sprinkled in and about the three main events.

Lots of taking off the winter stuff: ladder, hose, electric cord, painting and polishing equipment -- to the car and thence to the locker. I reinstalled the microchip containing all of the charts of the Atlantic coast of the US, Canada and at least some of the Bahamas into the MFD. When out of the MFD the chip is so tiny that it gets stored in the somewhat larger chip. That's my finger to show how small things are.
Also, I hosed down the deck, getting off 99 percent of the debris that accumulates there all winter, purged the fresh water lines of propylyne glycol, filled both of the tanks with seven minutes of hose water, and reattached the salon table.
The launch, assisted by the Huguenot's Orlando and Gus, was as uneventful as conceivable -- on time, with none of the various hitches of prior years involving salt water in the boat.

The  Huguenot let me tie up to their dock overnight, because had I driven to the Harlem I would not have arrived until after the last launch at 4 pm. Next morning I bent on the small jib, my favorite sail in case of engine failure in a tight spot. It is so easy to unfurl, regardless of the direction of the wind and its self tacking feature makes it easy to tack out of a tight spot. But this task, sadly, was not uneventful: first I forgot to roll the furling line into the drum. This was corrected by hand furling the sail at the foil, being that it was a light wind day in a well protected spot. But next I realized that I had led that furler line to starboard instead of port! I had planned to mount another sail that day but spent too much time with the small jib. I motored to the Harlem -- very fast on such a clean bottom. Bennett came, we had lunch and he drove me to the Huguenot where his Ohana was launched and my car awaited my drive home. Next day it was my turn to return the favor, to drive Bennett and his friend Ian from the Harlem to the Huguenot. Then we drove Ohana to the Harlem as soon as the tide rose enough to get her keel out of the mud. But instead of mooring there, we made a slow underway transfer of Mendy and his friend, Grace, from to launch to Ohana for a half hour sail before the launch shutdown for the night at 4:00. Well it was more of a drift than a sail, but gave Grace a wee taste of what sailing can be.
Then after two rest days of rain and a severe stiff neck I bent on ILENE's two large sails and eventually put in the reefing lines on my fifth try to get them right. Also mounted the blocks for the dinghy davits (at the cost of the pin of one shackle; they don't float!), the Lifesling, and the MOM-8 man overboard module, which is secure but not on right yet. The rest was interior cleaning which is now mostly done.
The Harlem's 136th Annual Going into Commission came off on a nice warm sunny Saturday afternoon.

I got this good photo by going to the sea wall, as unobtrusively as possible, to get the sun on the faces of our Flag officers backed up by all of our Past Commodores. This ceremonial raising of the flags at the start of the season is a time capsule. It hasn't changed during the 30 years I have been with the Club, and probably not during the 100 years before that either. There are never surprises during this ceremony and I think that's a good thing. In a world where everything seems to be changing rapidly all the time, this timeless ceremony gives a note of serenity. And we have had black, female and gay people in these lines, by the way, though, as I understand it, the Club did not admit females to membership until the 1970's. Bennett and Harriet had planned to attend but something came up so they gave their ticket to Mendy who enjoyed the abundant good food. The company was great - all sailors, and we were seated with, among others, Paul and Amy, who with their eight year old son, sail a Sabre 32 called "Farther". That's a good name for a cruising boat , which is how they want to use it. Thus is only their second season with her. I filled their heads with as much as I could.  I was authorized to try to plan a club cruise for this summer by the new Fleet Captain, Matt.
Next day was ILENE's first sail and Rhoda came along. I helped her install her boats batteries and we did not get off the mooring until after four, for a 90 minute romp. The wind had been predicted for the low teens all day but we saw gusts up to 30 knots. We used the full main but no head sail. It was a shakedown cruise and we moved fast, achieving 8.4 knots for about 30 seconds. We were on port tack to near Throggs Neck and then a long starboard beam reach to the eastern side of Manhasset Bay. Rhoda had the helm most of the day. A shakedown and the bowline at the bottom of the blue first reefing line blew out -- I had poorly tied the knot.  We picked up the mooring on our first try but I sort of fell from the gunnel of the launch onto its deck when departing. It took the wind out of me for a few minutes but nothing broken and so apparent bruises of excessive pains. Too much wind and the launch operator was straining to hold the launch to the boat's side, but not close enough.
I'm ready for more! The fun has begun!

Sailing a Cat In The Grenadines -- Part 2 -- The Adventure

We began and ended at the Blue Lagoon Marina on St. Vincent itself and visited eight other islands, putting in about 110 miles with only one lay day.










The first and last stops were in Admiralty Bay on Bequia, the sailing center of the nation. Both of our stops there, however, were Sundays which meant not much action. Below a pretty Bequian sunset.

We first took a mooring close to town and on the way back we anchored further out, near Jack's restaurant.  Our most memorable experience was a visit by a lovely affectionate stranger who invited herself to our table at Macs' restaurant. Harriet gave her some food. Then she engaged in a prominent, public, thorough, five-minute bathing ritual and curled up on my lap for half an hour of symbiotically pleasurable  petting, until we left. She looked a lot like our Alphie Girl, who was being sat in New York by our friend, Nanda, but more affectionate.

The Tobago Cays was my favorite stop. Three islands, almost surrounded by reefs make a nice harbor. So popular that it is a national park with a modest fee. We were led to a mooring in the cut between Petite Rameau to the north and Petite Bateau to the south by a boat boy, Neil, a grown man really. I asked: "Where are the lobsters?" He said "That's me!" We recalled that in 2011 we had enjoyed half a large clawless Caribbean crustacean grilled over charcoal in half a 50 gallon drum, served  with large portions of grilled potatoes, rice with peas, plantains and salad, with fresh fruit for desert. Then it was served on the east or windward side of Petite Bateau. This made for an after dinner challenge: launching and getting into the dink in the surf. But now the dinner is cooked on the protected leeward side of the island, closer to our mooring, under the tent like structures as viewed from our boat.

The price is a bargain at $110 EC, about $41 US. Back then they served no beverages at any price but now they do, though you still have to bring your own silverware. It is barefoot dining at picnic tables with other sailors from France, England, Canada, Germany, etc., all reveling in a magical experience. Lobstering season ended the next day, so our timing was lucky, but Neil will continue serving fish and chicken. Incidentally, in 2011 there was only a tarp hung between trees over the cooking station and only a dozen folks were served. Now there are about a half dozen friendly competitors who have the kind of covers used at street fairs and they served about a hundred revelers.
But the heart of the park is the turtle reservation on the SW side of the easternmost island, Baradel. It is marked off by swimming pool lane style floats to keep boats out. We dinked to the tiny beach at the south end of the island, to the right as seen from our boat, snorkeled, and then walked the path to the top of the island, only 70 feet high but providing panoramic views.

My joy is to find and float above "my turtle" for maybe 20 minutes with a clear underwater view thanks to the snorkel mask, watching him assiduously bite off bits of short seagrass. At one point he swam up the eight or so feet, poked his head out of the water, scanned the area and dove back down to continue breakfasting. Sort of like what we later did in climbing to the "summit" of Baradel. We also came to a large section where the bottom had a lot of large starfish, lying apparently dead to the world, about five or six feet apart in an irregular pattern. Bennett and Harriet did more snorkeling than we did and even brought their own gear. Bennett saw a ray as well. The only daytime rain during our cruise was during the snorkeling, while we were already wet. Many nights had brief five minute light showers and one a bit heavier while we were under shelter at a restaurant.

Sailing is always more fun with pretty girls aboard!

Next came the port of Clifton on the NE corner of Union Island. The harbor is created by a large surrounding reef and has another reef in its center called "Go Around Reef".  We dinked in to shop and bank, including fruits and vegetables from Eleen's, one of several shops in the market.

Eleen claimed to have remembered  Ilene from 2011. Then to Happy Island, a bar built with concrete on a tiny sandbar in the harbor, approachable only by shallow draft dinks, stand up paddleboards or by swimming -- they accept wet money.  The island behind the left boat in the picture below. Our only true indoor dinner with shoes was back in town. Bennett said that the Union Island people were the friendliest people of all the friendly folks in the Grenadines.

My original itinerary included Sandy Island next. But we were warned off of that plan in the chart briefing because that uninhabited sandbar is a suburb of Carriacou Island which is a suburb of Grenada, a different nation. So technically this stop would have required four visits to customs and immigration: to check in and back out of both St. Vincent and Grenada. The attraction at Sandy, where we had taken a mooring for the night in 2011, is the schools of larger tropical fish when snorkeling. Our chart briefer suggested Mopion, instead of Sandy, an even smaller sandbar near Petite
St. Vincent. Is only good for day anchoring while snorkeling, to be followed by anchoring at Petite St. Vincent at night. Well it was blowing 25 knots across tiny Mopion so even if we had anchored there, snorkeling would not have been fun. We took a look and went the extra mile to anchor at Petite St. Vincent, thinking we could snorkel Mopion next morning before the winds built up. PSV is a private island operated as an exclusive resort with 22 separate elegant one or two bedroom houses and two dining rooms. The rate in high season for a one bedroom is $1980 US per night plus 21% for taxes and service charges but that includes three gourmet meals per day, except alcohol.

Like I said, exclusive; its for folks who want to get away. But it was off season and they do allow (they can't stop) boats from anchoring off shore (ours was the boat to the left). They did allow us use of a significant part of the lovely beach and to have supper under a grass roofed hut a few feet from the water. Another barefoot fine dining experience. I made the mistake of ordering barracuda steak; too bony, kingfish is better.
In the morning Mopion was scratched because the wind had not died down. But we reverted to the original idea of Sandy Island, figuring that if we took a mooring for only a few hours and snorkeled without setting foot on the sandbar, we would not be violating Grenadian sovereignty.  This was the first time we tried to take a mooring without the help of a boat boy and we learned how useful they are for catamarans. After several attempts, we gave up. No pickup sticks, short pennants from the tops of the balls and a great height at the front of our two bows, 24 feet apart, from which the ends of each of the two mooring lines had to be inserted through the eye  and then lifted back up on deck.  It seemed impossible. In fact Bennett even put on his flippers and tried to do it from in the water. This swimming move was dangerous but no one was hurt. the wind would blow us off before we could accomplish the manouver. This shows our track, the black lines, during the attempts.

 We left Sandy without stopping and sailed to Chatham Bay on the leeward side of Union Island and anchored there. Despite being on the leeward side, catabatic winds come whooshing down from the hilltops so it was not really calm. I noticed that the jib furler had wrapped around the foil above the drum rather than in the drum. We found the jib halyard, lowered that sail, tied it down to the deck so it would not blow away and anchored. Then we set to work getting the furler straightened out and raising the jib again. We were struggling in the wind with me at the winch, Bennett trying to feed the luff tape into the foil's groove and trying to keep the women aft so they would not get conked by the flailing block at the clew. The mistake I had made was not straightening out the luff tape before we started feeding it, with a resulting twist. A voice appeared from a dink: "Can I be of help?" The answer was yes and the man tied off his dink, came aboard and provided the third set of hands.

It was Frank who with his wife Jules, became our friends for the next few days.

Their boat is a 40 foot Hunter named "Ever After" anchored next to us but a good safe distance away. I forgot to mention how huge Chatham Bay is, room for a hundred boats but only seven of us present; so no need to anchor too near anyone else. They live aboard with an orange tabby named cruiser, in Grenada and work aboard as proprietors of a boat canvas shop with two sewing machines. Frank was a Montana rancher and cowboy who became a farrier in the California thoroughbred racing industry where he met Jules, who had spent many years in Arizona and was a lady jockey.
We took them to dinner at Seckie and Vanessa's beachfront shelter. We had dined there in 2011 and reenacted the same routine. Me: "We are friends of Tabou, from St. Vincents, who now lives part of the year in the Berkshires in Massachusetts." He: "Yes, and how is his wife Rona?" They are now assisted by Summer, Vanessa's nephew.
Next day, was a lay day for us, except for me: Frank and Jules needed to go around to the Clifton side of Union island to visit an ATM and we needed provisions. I asked to hitchhike and they accepted me and gave me the helm. They are on vacation from their business until June. I got to know them a bit. Very competent and Frank is a lot like our friend, Dean, of "Autumn Borne": always eager to help strangers. Also, because they live in Grenada, and love animals, and with the Arizona connection, I am going to electronically introduce them to our friend Marty, another Arizona expat who has similar interests.  While I was away, Laurenz had fixed the outboard and seeing that the dink was not at our boat, Frank put me ashore where I walked the long beach to the other end which has a four room resort where I hooked up with the rest of Azurro's crew.

Harriet had looked up the fact that anchoring is permitted at Sandy Island, southwest of the mooring field, so we returned there, planning to anchor, dink to a mooring and then snorkel from the dink, without setting foot on the soil of Grenada. But a boat boy was present and helped put us on a mooring. I saw a large school of large black disc shaped fish and followed them for a while. Here is the northern end, where the fish are, and a southern part of this sandbar.

After a few hours we retraced our wake past Chatham Bay and on to Saltwhistle Bay in the northwest corner of Mayreau Island. A small harbor, but there was room for us. Bennett wanted ribs but none of the restaurants had any and we settled for chicken. Next to us was a boatload, and I mean load, of twelve physicians from Poland on a large cat; one was not a doctor yet but the daughter, in medical school, of the captain, a dermatologist.

Then, after Bequia, to Young Island Cut,on St. Vincent a mile away from Blue Lagoon, where we snorkeled and had dinner at the resort there. Bennett and Harriet, they are younger, climbed to near the top of the adjacent  sugarloaf shaped island where they got this picture with Blue Lagoon center background.

Next morning, at our request, Mike drove over in his dink, came aboard and piloted us back to the charter base in Blue lagoon where we were debriefed.

Lots of photo credits to Bennett.

Sailing a Cat in The Grenadines-- April 27 - May 7 -- Part I

We cruised for eleven days in St Vincents and the Grenadines with Bennett and Harriet. The cat was the girls' idea -- an experiment. They were enthused about the no-heeling reputation of catamarans. The glasses won't tip over! Everything does not have to be secured in the cabin! These were the attractions of a cat to our women. This post describes the boat and its sailing characteristics; Part II will describe the fun we had. So if you are one of the readers who does not like the sailing aspects, just skip to the next posting, soon.

Ours was a Lagoon 39 of 2016, named "Azurro II" owned by French people with a Vincentian courtesy flag.

It was a generous sized boat for only two couples because it was designed for four. Unlike Long Island Sound, the prevalence of cats in the Vincentian waters was remarkable -- in one port, including us, there were nine cats and only three monohulls. And in looking around, we noticed that Azurro II was one of the smaller cats out there.

We arrived after a long day of travel at nine pm, got settled aboard and slept at the dock of the well sheltered Blue Lagoon Marina in the south coast of St. Vincents, the largest and capital island of the archipelago nation of St. Vincents and the Grenadines. The boat had  slightly smaller cabins in the forward part of each of its hulls, which we used for storage, and quite large ones aft. Large enough that we slept, pullman style, athwart ships, what with no material heeling. In each hull the cabins were separated by a passageway inboard and a head with shower and sink.  These bedroom sections were six steps down from the central ridging portion of the boat which had a large table, nav desk and galley, forward, and another large table on the outdoor covered patio deck aft. The indoor and outdoor sections of the upper deck were separated by a large sliding door and window and we closed them, and locked them, only when leaving the boat. The interior wood was blond and nice looking, but the cabin sole was a dark plastic type material that has several lighter blotches where prior sailors has apparently used bleach to get up dirt. Up another four steps was the helm station, to starboard, covered by a canvas bimini of its own, with steering and engine controls, a large new B&G Multi 'Function Display and two winches, one electrified, from which all lines for both sails could be handled. The boat was equipped with everything one might need (except dinghy lights). Though young, the boat already showed signs of wear: dents and scrapes that result from use and are characteristic of chartered vessels that are used by many people, not their owners, and some of whom have skill

shortages. In fact, while we did no material harm we had never sailed a cat and experienced a learning curve.

Before we could get underway we had three tasks to accomplish. First the girls took a cab to the market for provisioning. While they were away, Marlin gave us guys a thorough tour of the boat showing us where everything was, e.g. boathook, first aid kit, dinghy anchor,  keys, flashlight, tool kit, etc. There is so much storage space that one must remember which large cabinet has each item. The tool kit, with its often used pliers, sat in the kneewell of the interior navigation station. Marlin told us how to turn on and off each switch, and which ones not to touch. He turned on the two engines and the electronics. He lowered the dink from its davits and turned on its outboard. The third task was the chart briefing by Raymond who outlined the favorite destinations and the distances between them, described in hours not nautical miles. Lene and I had been through these waters in 2011, twice: first southbound toward neighboring Grenada in the spring and again northbound in the fall. We had ideas about which ports to visit and the one to avoid (Mustique -- an overpriced exclusive Disneyland style island). In fact, I had laid out our entire draft itinerary months ago and sent it to our companions; I love cruise planning.

Finally about noon, Mike, our pilot, raised the main and piloted us out through the single red and green day marks at the sides of the channel between the reefs that protect Blue Lagoon and then left in the dink he had brought along. Regrettably, none of our coaches knew how to get the data out of the MFD. It provides lots of info to those who know which buttons to push. And there was no manual for its use. We have learned Raytheon's system but not B&G's. We used it, but without finding the "find boat" button or putting in a waypoint and getting course and time or distance to it.

Unbeknownst to us, Mike had put the second reef in the main for our first passage. I believe that he had intended to put in only the first reef but the labels on the clutches for the two reefing lines were reversed! We did have the first reef in most of the days we sailed. I had the helm for most of the time and found that observation of the main sail trim from the helm was quite difficult. I had to put the boat on auto and come down and aft to see that sail's trim. I never found the adjustable outhaul for the main; maybe there is none
.

The reefing lines were fitted with sleeves of the outer layer of braided line, probably to prevent excess tightening. The effect was that the second reef line hung loose when the sail was furled, in a big loop at the aft end of the boom. And the boom runs quite a bit aft of the hard dodger/patio roof

high above that deck. The loop snagged the flagpole once, but worse, it got wrapped around the boom. That prevented raising the main to its full first-reefed height. I used the boat hook in one hand, holding onto the boat with the other while Lene held onto me for safety while I groped with the boat hook and unhooked the tangle while bouncing in the seas. Also, because the aft end of the boom extends so far aft of the boat, instead of a back stay there are two strong rubber covered stays running from the mast head, one to each quarter. Off the wind, one of these stays was pressed against the main, creasing its belly

The final problem with the main was that we were never able to close its stack pack. We were able to mash the sail into the stack pack somewhat but not to close it. This was not a problem for us, but it permitted the intense Caribbean sun to gradually destroy the owner's sail. We could never reach the zipper atop the aft end of the boom.

As for the jib, it was a self tacking one as seen in the photo above, like aboard ILENE, but it has no secondary jib sheets to pull the clew forward and down to obtain a better trim downwind. One day the pin in the shackle that attaches the jibsheet/outhaul to the clew of the jib fell out! These things can happen if the rigging is not frequently and closely observed. Fortunately, the pin was captured by the open shackle and did not dive overboard. We were able to furl the sail and tie a line around it (Azurro II had several spare lines; some chartered boats have not an inch of it!) and made the reattachment once on a sheltered mooring. The only mistake in that regard, which we pointed out to the charter company, was that we reattached it 180 degrees wrong, resulting in a twist in the line. Another time we tightened the furling line too tight on the electric winch and got a wrap. What to do? The only thing I could think of was to cut the knot at the top of the furling drum. This shortened the line by five inches, which was immaterial given its extra length.

All told, the boat seemed slow, given the strong winds we had, though on the return we did see a few minutes of 7.4 knots one day. I will attribute some of the slowness to my lack of familiarity with the fine points of sailing a cat.

The charter company twice sent out its contracted mechanic on Union Island, Laurenz.

First to fix the refrigerator door hinge which had been broken off and check the batteries which he said were OK as long as we ran one of the engines two hours twice per day. But it was Bennett who figured out, when despite the solar panels wed had to turn off the refrigerator at night to keep the "low voltage" alarm from buzzing. Lorenz second trip it was to clean the carburetor of the dinghy engine which was shutting itself down at the most inconvenient times.
The company also "ate" the fuel cost, almost $200 US, for 20 gallons, which the charter broker had not told us about. We can't complain about Dream Charters.

OK; but how did the experiment turn out? Well the Admiral's conclusion was "I'd rather be sailing our boat."  I agree and considered that comment to be a successful conclusion of the experiment. Our monohull digs in and heels a bit, but due to its heavy low pendulous keel it then rides through and over the waves rather smoothly. A cat is a big rectangle, 39 feet long and perhaps 24 feet wide. As advertised, even without a keel, a cat does not heel much, due to its huge beam. It can't press its leeward hull down into the water far enough to get much of a heel.

But instead, the waves pick up one corner of the rectangle at a time and then drop that corner to pick up another. So there is considerable irregular random rocking motion, particularly when the wind and waves are abeam. And the helm is much higher than on a sloop; my eyes are maybe 12 feet above the water.

The rocking and rolling is magnified at that height. Another effect of the extra height above sea level of the helmsperson's eyes is to diminish the pleasurable illusion of speed. In not too many other vehicles does going seven knots, about eight miles an hour, feel fast. From the height of the cat it seems less fast at the same speed.