| Mayaguez, Boqueron
Monday, March 19
We arrive at the bright yellow Immigration building in Mayaguez
before 8:00 A.M. on Monday morning. (Note: the building has
been painted and is not blue as described in the cruising
guides.) The ferry from the Dominican Republic is just offshore
and will soon deposit several thousand passengers for processing,
and that's one line we don't want to be at the end of. The
Puerto Rican Customs and Immigrations officials work for the
U.S. Department of Homeland Security. Checking in here is
sort of like being in the US, but not exactly. We learn that
the required Customs decal cannot be purchased directly from
Customs, even though they could fine us for not having it.
Instead we must order it online, have it sent to a US address,
and then mailed to us in Puerto Rico. I'm sure this all fights
terrorism in some way, but I'm still trying to figure it out.
Otherwise, our check-in goes smoothly and by 9:30 we're pulling
up the anchor and heading 15 miles south to Boqueron in the
company of Shian, Gypsy Dancer, and Perseverance.
During this short passage, we get light winds from the west,
moderate winds from the northeast, light and variable winds
from everywhere, and honking winds from the southeast.
Tuesday, March 20
Today we search for a working ATM machine. We're told there's
one at the edge town. After a long hike, we arrive to find
Jane (Shian) standing with hands-on-hips by an ATM
machine that doesn't put out. An elderly gentleman, a US expatriate
living in Puerto Rico, drives up also in search of cash. When
told the machine is down, he offers to take the first mates
to a bank down the road. Jane and I hop in the man's car,
and Nick watches us drive off hoping that the fellow isn't
an ax murderer. In fact, he's a nice old Irishman from New
York.
With cash in hand, Nick and I find a hair salon where we
receive new doos by a lady who speaks little English but still
manages to get it right. While Nick takes his turn, I cross
the street to pick up a few groceries. When I walk back into
the salon, I catch my breath and choke back a tear. "Where
are your curls? You cut them off!" The stylist, looking
guilty, shrugs her shoulders. It's what the captain ordered.
That evening, Perseverance hosts a potluck on their
spacious catamaran where Nick's wahoo is the main course.
This is the first potluck on a boat for Shian and Gypsy
Dancer, and we enjoy a nice evening.
Wednesday, March 21
Shian and Gypsy Dancer depart shortly after
sunrise to start their journey around the southern coast.
To stay in touch, we set up an SSB schedule. We're sad to
see them go but certain we'll cross paths again.
Thursday, March 22
We join Perseverance for dinner at Galloways where
we talk for awhile with another cruising couple on the yacht
Spirit. They arrived this afternoon and had to reset
their anchor several times before it set. They mention plans
to go to Mayaguez by car tomorrow.
Friday, March 23
The wind is blowing over 20 knots this afternoon and we decide
to stay on the boat until conditions settle down in the evening.
While on deck, Nick notices that Spirit seems to be
dragging anchor and the crew isn't on board (most likely in
Mayaguez). The boat continues making tracks across the harbor.
She'll either hit the reef or head out to sea at this rate,
so Nick and several other boaters board the wayward vessel
to reign her in. There isn't another anchor on deck, so one
captain goes back to his boat and brings an anchor to deploy.
The second anchor does the trick and Spirit finally
comes to a stop. We can only imagine how surprised her crew
was when they returned to find their boat in a different location
with a new anchor off the bow.
During the day, the quiet village of Boqueron has transformed
itself into a party town as the weekend tourists arrive. Around
sunset, we take the laptop to a local bar where we can get
Internet. The bar is hosting karaoke night and the volume
is LOUD and the singing is OFFKEY and in SPANISH. We download
our mail while being serenaded by a squeaky Latin Frank Sinatra.
Cabo Rojo
Saturday, March 24
On occasion, we do try to follow the advice of cruising guru
Van Sant. So on Saturday morning, we depart Boqueron and make
a short trip to the southwestern tip of Puerto Rico where
we anchor below the lighthouse at Cabo Rojo. With Perseverance,
we're staging for an early morning trip around the cape along
the southern coast. The anchorage is rolly and uncomfortable,
but it's only for one night.
Gilligan's Island
Sunday, March 25
There's barely a whisper of wind as we weigh anchor in the
dark at 4:00 A.M. As we round the cape, conditions are better
than expected with moderate seas and wind (on the nose, of
course). We arrive at Cayos Cana Gorda (Gilligan's Island)
around 8:00 A.M. and drop the hook in a lovely anchorage surrounded
by reefs and mangroves. After a pancake breakfast, naps are
in order.
That afternoon, Perseverance gives us a dinghy ride
over to the resort. As we motor away, Nick looks back at our
boat and notices his hand fishing line is sheared off and
the snubber is bunched up on the transom. Uh-oh! We forgot
to pull in the hand line before anchoring the boat and now
it's wrapped around the propeller. We dock the dinghy at the
resort's pier and walk past the "No Trespassing, Guests
Only" signs to their outdoor restaurant. After a few
drinks and some fishy-tasting shrimp quesadillas, we make
the wet dinghy ride back to the boat. Back in Florida, Nick
had purchased a special knife just for cutting lobster and
fishing lines off the prop. Now he gets the chance to test
its usefulness. The knife pays for itself by making quick
work of the job.
Ponce
Monday, March 26
Although we'd love to spend more time at Gilligan's Island,
the weather this week is going to be rainy and we decide to
move on to Ponce. In the early morning light, we thread our
way out the eastern exit with a nervous eye to the waves breaking
on reefs to port and starboard.
We arrive in Ponce before noon and find the small, deep-water
anchorage to be quite crowded. Since we already have a reservation
at the marina, we go ahead and take a slip and sign up for
a week's stay.
At the marina office, we ask about available services. We
need to replace our broken chainplate and we hope to replace
some rigging as well. We might also want to have some new
dinghy davits made. Although there's a reputable rigger in
Ponce, we learn that he's in St. Thomas until next Tuesday.
The stainless steel fabricator that Van Sant's book highly
recommends is no longer around (moved or deceased, it's not
clear). Ponce is supposed to be a great place to get work
done, but so far things are not coming together. We get the
name of another metal fabricator who might be able to help
Tuesday, March 27
After lunch, a technician comes to work on our mechanical
refrigeration system. It's another strikeout. This makes four
professionals and numerous amateurs who have failed to resolve
our problem. The system works occasionally, but not consistently
enough to rely on. Fortunately our 110 system is still working
and keeping our food cold.
Wednesday, March 28
Routine medical appointments take all day. Dealing with healthcare
providers seems treacherous enough back home, but there's
an added feeling of vulnerability when you don't speak the
language. We learn from our cab drivers, through broken English
on their side and broken Spanish on ours, that it hasn't rained
since January. It's rained every day since we arrived in Ponce.
Thursday, March 29
Today is provisioning day. I accompany Richard and Harriet
(Perseverance) to Wal-Mart and Sam's to load up on
all those things that will be hard to find or too costly in
the islands south of here. I was quite proud to arrive in
Puerto Rico with 20 rolls of toilet paper and half a dozen
rolls of paper towels. We have our share of worries on Caribbean
Soul, but running out of TP is not one of them. During
our outing, we drop by the DHL depot and pick up our watermaker
part, a new pressure vessel.
While I'm provisioning, Nick meets with a metal fabricator
who thinks he can make the chainplate. To remove the broken
chainplate, Nick must cut away part of a cabinet in the aft
cabin, another repair job for later. The broken chainplate
for the lower mizzen stay is bolted through with the chainplate
for the upper stay. Nick is dismayed to discover that the
upper chainplate, while not rusted like the lower one, is
bent and cracked and must also be replaced. Apparently both
chainplates were damaged in the George Town accident.
That evening, we go downtown with Harriet and Richard for
dinner at an Argentinean restaurant. After returning to the
boat, Nick inspects the watermaker part and realizes it won't
work on our unit. Sigh.
Friday, March 30
Today Nick tries to pull together various loose ends. This
task is made more challenging because we don't have a telephone
and we can't get Internet access to make Skype phone calls
from the boat. We either have to take the computer off the
boat to a place where we can pick up a WiFi signal or get
the secretary at the yacht club office to make the call for
us.
The metal fabricator says he can't make new chainplates because
he doesn't have the stainless steel bar stock. He also says
most of his suppliers who might have stainless will be closed
next week for the Easter holy week. As a temporary fix, he
offers to weld the old chainplates. We don't have any other
choice at this point since we can't move the boat until the
chainplates are reinstalled.
Regarding the watermaker, Village Marine says they'll have
to send us more parts to modify the pressure vessel they already
sent. Watermakers really aren't designed to be serviced in
the field, much less modified. Nick will either pull this
off or we'll have to send the whole unit back to Florida.
On a positive note, Nick is walking down the dock when a
local sport fishing boat arrives with a load of wahoo. They
give Nick one of their catch, so we have fresh fish for dinner
and more in the freezer.
Saturday, March 31
The metal fabricator is supposed to bring our chainplates
this morning. Meanwhile, Nick climbs the mast and removes
the VHF antenna and anemometer (wind instrument). Our VHF
radio signal is very weak and has impaired our ability to
communicate with boats more than just a few miles away. Our
wind speed gave out in George Town, and we've been relying
on other boats to give us the bad news when the wind is howling.
Nick disassembles the wind instrument and puts it back together.
The metal guy hasn't shown up by late afternoon, so we take
the computer down to an area with WiFi and call him on Skype.
He promises to deliver the parts within an hour and a half.
By 9:00 P.M we still don't have our chainplates and the music
is blaring from the boardwalk across the harbor. We walk over
to join the festivities and wander around for awhile.
Sunday, April 1
April Fool's Day marks our one year anniversary of living
aboard Caribbean Soul. As we did last year, we ponder
the significance of this date.
The generator has been stuttering and stammering on start
up for awhile, so Nick decides to change the fuel filter.
I'm not surprised to hear some swearing coming from the engine
room; that's typical. But when the yelling is followed by
a burning smell, I run to see what's happened.
When Nick removed the bottom of the filter, there was an
electrical short and sparks flew. Diesel fuel from the filter
flowed over the sparks, essentially putting out the fire.
Nick hadn't noticed that the generator's battery switch was
on when he started the job, so there was current in the wire.
If the fuel had been gasoline instead of diesel, our neighbors
would've been finding bits and pieces of Caribbean Soul
and her crew on their decks for quite some time. The wire
between the filter and fuel pump is fried, and the status
of the fuel pump is questionable. Since our engine-driven
refrigeration doesn't work, we depend on the generator to
keep our 110 system running. Nick rebuilds the wire and then
directs me to turn the battery switch back on. No fire, that's
a good start. Now, will the generator start? It cranks, but
then sputters and dies. Is the fuel pump fried or is there
air in the fuel line? Nick bleeds the line and tries again.
Success! We have a generator! That was a close call.
Monday, April 2
We finally receive our chainplates this morning. Nick reinstalls
them and now the mizzen is secure.
Around midmorning we're thrilled to look up and see two Texas
flags coming into the harbor heralding the arrival of MoonSail
and Sol y Mar. These buddy boats left Luperon with
us but had to divert to Samana for repairs. Around sunset,
I make a batch of Painkillers and pass them around while everyone
visits on the dock. Later we all eat dinner at the yacht club's
outdoor bar.
Tuesday, April 3
The rigger, who has been out of town since our arrival in
Ponce, comes by this morning and talks to Nick about possibly
doing some rigging work. Unfortunately, the rigger is going
out of town again tomorrow and will not be back until
next week. For him to do the work, we'll have to stay
at least two more weeks in Ponce. We don't want to do this.
Since there isn't another rigger on the south coast of Puerto
Rico, he recommends getting the work done in St. Martin. He
does agree to come back after lunch to inspect the rig and
provide us a new VHF antenna. He doesn't find any problems
with the rig, so we're good to go.
Salinas
Wednesday, April 4
Just after sunrise, we back out of our slip with assistance
from a bleary-eyed Chris on MoonSail. The wind is only
blowing about 4 knots. We know this because our wind speed
is actually working again. Yeah! But wait.... An hour out
of Ponce, the speed suddenly goes back to zero. Sigh...another
small victory snatched away.
We have any easy motorsail to Salinas on smooth seas with
light winds. The protected harbor is reminiscent of Luperon,
nestled among mangroves with blue-gray mountains as a backdrop.
The water is a murky green, much nicer than Luperon but not
the bathtub water we enjoyed in the Bahamas. We're thankful
to have a screened companionway door and screens on our ports
and hatches to keep out the flies. Overall, it's a pleasant
place to spend some time.
The Cruiser's Galley is the local yachtie hangout and provides
free Internet if you eat there. Here we have a nice meal with
a side order of free Internet. We're always thrilled to get
e-mail from folks back home. On our way back to the boat,
we pick up our second round of watermaker parts at the marina
office. Imagine our surprise to see that two hoses and a few
fittings costs $420. The pressure vessel that these new parts
will modify was only $200.
Thursday, March 5
We take the computer to the Cruiser's Galley so Nick can
call Greg at Village Marine. Greg gives Nick instructions
for performing the modification, a procedure Greg says would
take him four hours. He jokingly suggests that Nick
will be qualified to pursue a new career in watermaker repair
after this project. Greg also agrees to fax a diagram to the
machine at the Cruiser's Galley.
While Nick is Skyping, I accompany another first mate to
the pharmacy in a borrowed car. She and her husband have been
cruising seven years. I tell her that this is our first year.
She asks me how we're liking it. I admit that so far cruising
has been more stressful and less fun than we expected. She
nods, "Yeah, we all feel that way."
Our customs decal is at the post office, so we make the 3-4
mile round trip walk in the broiling heat. When we return
to the Cruiser's Galley, the fax isn't there because the machine
isn't working. It's too late now to have it faxed somewhere
else.
That evening, we meet Dream and Evening Star
at the marina's snack bar for drinks and a discussion about
cruising destinations down island. Both boats spent time in
Venezuela last season and have strongly different views of
the situation. We're still not sure where we'll stay during
hurricane season. One thing is certain based on reports we've
heard from numerous boats who've been in Trinidad and Venezuela
recently: these countries are not the great cruising destinations
they used to be. Thanks to Hurricane Ivan demolishing Grenada
in 2004, most insurance companies including ours have moved
their hurricane box south to 10.5 degrees latitude. Tropical
storm coverage is unavailable for Grenada, Margarita Island,
Bonaire, or Curacao unless you want to pay an extra, ridiculous
premium. This has caused Trinidad to become overcrowded and
overpriced. Meanwhile, spending the season in Puerto La Cruz,
Venezuela means being confined to the safety of the marina
compound.
Friday, April 6
Nick calls Village Marine and arranges to have the diagram
faxed to the marina. Meanwhile, I start the laundry at the
marina's laundromat. Here we find two working washers (cold
water only) and two dryers, one of which overheats and has
to be opened and cooled off repeatedly during the cycle. The
good news is the machines only cost a buck each. I haven't
done laundry this cheap since Corpus Christi.
Once back on the boat, Nick starts the watermaker reengineering
project. The unit resides under our settee (sofa) so the salon
(living room) is a disaster zone with parts scattered everywhere.
When he removes the membrane from the pressure vessel, he
notices that the brine seal o-ring is damaged. This means
we'll need yet more parts. Village Marine has already closed
for the holiday, so now the project cannot be completed this
weekend.
On the bright side, our new VHF antenna seems to have cured
our communications woes. Nick talks to Perseverance
in Ponce, much farther than we've been able to talk before.
We're pleased that our VHF eavesdropping range has now been
expanded.
Saturday, April 7
Tonight is a barbecue at the marina's outdoor snack bar and
grill. The meats are cooked on a grill, not smoked, but it's
the best barbecue we've had since leaving the States. Come
to think of it, it's the only barbecue we've had.
A group of us discuss boat projects, where we've been and
where we plan to go, and passage horror stories. Cruisers
are a pretty resilient crowd. Despite boat breakdowns and
adverse weather, they keep sailing on, doggedly pursuing their
dreams and their gypsy lifestyle. They're either an admirable
bunch of folks or just plain nuts, I'm still trying to decide
which.
Sunday, April 8
Today is Easter Sunday. Dakota is looking pretty scruffy,
so we get out the electric clippers and give him a trim. He's
a bad customer and, as always, the experience leaves all three
us in a bad temper.
The Cruiser's Galley is preparing a special dinner tonight:
deep-fried turkey, spiral-cut honey ham, yams, roasted potatoes,
broccoli, salad, garlic bread, and carrot cake. The food is
delicious and we enjoy a nice evening with other cruisers.
Monday, April 9
Nick calls Village Marine bright and early, and they promise
to overnight the o-ring. Nick then spends most of the afternoon
talking to the Internet guy to get WiFi on the boat. It turns
out there is an unadvertised rate for boats in the harbor.
The Cruiser's Galley owns the system, but it's not set up
for easy access. We're planning to take a road trip to the
tropical rain forest tomorrow, but when we call to reserve
a car we're told that none are available. The first mate is
not a happy camper.
Tuesday, April 10
The first mate is still pouting at lunchtime when we dinghy
into town for authentic Puerto Rican food at Puerta al Sol.
It's about 3:00 when we head back to the boat. We stop by
the marina just in case the FedEx has arrived, and sure enough
it has.
A few hours later, it's the moment of truth. Nick turns on
the watermaker in cleaning mode. Water flows out the waste
outlet. Good so far. Next, he selects Reverse Osmosis. This
puts pressure on the membrane inside the newly installed pressure
vessel. We watch the pressure meter rise, preparing to hit
the deck if it blows. Soon water is flowing out the RO water
spigot. We let it run awhile, and then the real test: taste
the water. If it's salty, then our membrane is bad and we'll
need a new one. Nick fills a glass, sniffs it, swishing the
water around as if preparing to taste a fine wine. He takes
a sip while I hold my breath. The verdict: no salty taste.
Hooray! We're making water again.
Wednesday, April 11
We check in with our weather router, Chris Parker, and receive
a favorable forecast for moving to the Spanish Virgin Islands.
Today we'll get some fuel, finalize our routes, and hoist
the dinghy on deck. We've promised ourselves that we'll finally
put boat projects on hold and have some fun when we get to
the Virgin Islands.
April 4-, Salinas
|
Dakota watches the ferry arrive in Mayaguez.
The ferry dropped its anchors just behind
us and then docked stern-to off the pier.
Nick makes a Skype call in Boqueron.
Cabo Rojo, the southwestern point of Puerto Rico.
Motoring in the early morning calm, the only
way to beat the trade winds that rip around the southern coast..
Sunset at Gilligan's Island
The southern coast of Puerto Rico, on the way to Ponce.
"Mommy says I look cute in her hat, but I feel so silly."
Looking from the Ponce Yacht Club across
the harbor to the commercial dock.
Dolphin sculpture on the yacht club grounds.
Mini golf course at the yacht club.
Isla Caja de Muertos (Coffin Island) resembles a corpse laid
out in a coffin.
Early morning calm in Salinas Harbor.
Here's what $420 worth of watermaker parts
look like.
Nick works on the watermaker. A new career?
Restaurant row. Just north of the marina
are lots of choices for local cuisine.
The Cruiser's Galley, hangout for yachties.
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