A Sail of Two Idiots (38 page)

We started each crossing with the mainsail at the middle (second) reef and usually just left it there. We spent more time on the genny. To reef our genny, all we had to do was roll it in as much as we felt necessary, or unroll it, depending on conditions. The only issue there was that constantly sailing with a large genny half-rolled will cause wear and tear on portions of the sail, which are not designed for such loads. It's better to switch to a smaller headsail (a jib or even a storm jib), but under rough conditions this isn't always possible, and in our case we didn't have a smaller sail.

We worked our butts off all the way to Fort de France, about 20 miles down the island on the west side. Just as we were about to turn into the harbor, we were walloped by another squall and had to stop until the whiteout passed. We couldn't see a thing, although every once in a while we got a glimpse of a drenched fisherman scooping water out of his little boat.

Anchoring conditions in Fort de France wasn't good either, but we knew we weren't staying so we didn't exert great efforts to find a good bottom.

Check-in was a breeze! There wasn't even a human involved. Just some quick computer keystrokes. The French really know how to do customs/immigration.

The Fort de France harbor was huge and reminded us of a more exposed version of Pointe-a-Pitre (Guadeloupe). Bleh. We really didn't want to stay there, so we dinghied into a marine store, got our water pump (euro to U.S. dollar conversion—ouch), raised anchor, and motored south about 8 miles to Grande Anse d'Arlet.

We chose that anchorage because we had something really fun to look forward to there. A meeting with our mentors!

Before we left Arizona, we told an acquaintance about our sailing plans. Coincidentally, his brother and sister-in-law, Kevin and Amanda, had left just a few months before to do the same thing. They had sold everything they owned, left their jobs, bought a catamaran, grabbed their kitty, and hit the seas on their new catamaran,
Solstice
(they had taken lessons though). We e-mailed them to ask how things were going and had been in touch ever since. They had given us a lot of guidance and even more encouragement. As it turned out, they were now coming back up the island chain as we were going down it. We were going to cross paths in a Martinique harbor.

As we pulled into Grande Anse d'Arlet, our pals on
Solstice
told us to head to the north side, where the holding was better (still dispensing advice!). The next thing we knew we were having dinner with our virtual advisors. Kind of like our Thanksgiving on Tortola. We just loved having things come together like that. It was fun to share experiences, swap stories, and let them know how much their blog had helped us. They gave us a few pointers about places farther south but were impressed with all we had accomplished so far. So were we!

We spent a couple of days together catching up, and then
Solstice
was on its way north. Two ships passing. We stayed a couple more days, letting Melissa enjoy the big beach there while Michael and I checked out Petite Anses d'Arlet, a quaint town with good veggies just a short walk away.

Then it started raining again. Jeez. We debated renting a car but decided against it. The island was so big that we wouldn't know where to start, it was expensive (back in the land of the euro), and the weather was terrible.

Despite all the hardships we subjected Melissa to, she decided that she wanted to try crewing for a career. See, she just proved that crazy runs in my family. We
heard that big yachts could be found in Marigot, St. Lucia, so that's where we went next.

Engine fixed. Windows still leaking.

D
on't blink, because this is a quick one. We sailed across the cut with high … bleh, bleh, bleh, and pulled into beautiful Rodney Bay, 31 miles south. We rested up and then motored farther south down to Marigot—a harbor that looks a lot bigger in pictures than it really is. There was no room inside the harbor for us, so we puttered back out. There wasn't much room there either, nor was it very protected, but we hadn't planned on being there long.

As a matter of fact, we were gone the next day, heading back up the island chain. Read that again. We were going back. We learned, based on inquiries to the two megayachts docked in the marina, that the place to be if you wanted to crew was Antigua. If someone wanted to find day or long-term work on a big boat—motor or sail—Antigua or St. Martin were their only real options. It was March, when the yachts take on crew for their upcoming ocean crossings, so it was now or never. Practice makes perfect!

We weren't there long enough for anything to break.

S
o we hopped on the express train from St. Lucia back to Antigua so my sister could try to get on her own boat and get paid to live the good life. Let's just focus on the highlights, shall we?

We skipped Martinique completely but lost a lot of time while motoring behind the loooooooong island (32 miles!). We were brain-dead from the constant engine noise (and fumes) when the biggest pod of dolphins we'd ever come across came to play. What fun! They didn't stay long since we weren't moving fast enough for them (they like 7 knots or faster), but it refreshed us and psyched us up for the final leg of that day's journey—the cut between Martinique and Dominica.

In between the two islands, we saw a whale! Dolphins and whales in one day! Two firsts for Melissa and always fun for us.

After putting an impressive 88 miles behind us, we grabbed “our” mooring in Roseau, watched the sunset, and zonked. We woke up to a whale song vibrating through our hulls and then saw its source on our way out of the anchorage. Was it calling us? Had it been waiting? Here we come!

Once again, weather conditions deteriorated, so we took our time motoring up to Rodney Bay, where we were greeted by Alexis and Bogart, our favorite boat helpers/tour guides from our prior visit. They felt like old friends.

It also happened to be Friday night. Jump-up night. Jump-ups involved locals hanging out, eating, drinking, and dancing to loud music in the streets. We felt safe with Bogart so we thought it was something we should experience. He took us on a tour of his neighborhood, brought us somewhere we could get some grub, and then we people-watched. Let's just say it was interesting.

By 1 a.m. we had all somehow managed to get separated. When I ran into Bogart, he looked worried, which made me worried. Michael wasn't too far off, but it took a while to find my sister. We finally found her in a dense crowd of drunk revelers, many of them getting a little braver about touching the small, pretty, out-of-place white girl in their midst (she's not even 5 feet tall and looked about 12 years old). The relief on Melissa's face said it all. Bogart was reassured to have all three of us under his charge again. He was also happy to escort us back to our dinghy.

Somehow, listening to music emit from Big Papas until 5 a.m. wasn't as much fun as when we had been part of the festivities. Oy.

We got a visit from the Dominican Coast Guard the next day. We were lucky. The papers from our last trip had just expired and we had debated checking in again. We had planned on being there only a day so who would know? Well, because of the weather, we were there for three days, and Alexis had worriedly nagged us to get legal. Glad we listened to him!

We were boarded while Michael was in the middle of cooking. When they asked to see the captain (per the paperwork), I told them he was cooking and they started calling him Captain Cook. Hee hee. They were friendly and were on and off in a jiffy.

They weren't the only ones to board us that day. While we were doing chores, a few local kids were swimming around and decided to climb up our swim ladder and rest. No problem. Maybe we'd get them a bucket and make them swab the decks. They were inquisitive, asking about the wind generator, the solar panels, and other unfamiliar gizmos. Hot now, they dove off the bow and swam to shore. Well, that was kind of fun.

Except that they came back with 15 of their closest friends and started playing soccer on our trampoline. Some of them who were sitting topside with their legs dangling through the hatches and into our bunks asked us if we had water. Well, as a matter of fact, we were running out of water and they were intruding on our home, so it was time to get the heck off! Jeez, talk about overextending their welcome. They were harmless, and we were kind of flattered that they felt comfortable enough with us to want to bond a bit. We were also glad when they left (typical guests).

Our final night was spent listening to music blaring from the beach bars until 4:30 a.m. Just two hours later we were lifting anchor and taking off for Deshaies, Guadeloupe.

For the first time in weeks, we finally had a fantastic sail! I was so excited to be able to give this gift to Melissa for her final crossing with us.

We're ba-ack … After a wet ride, we anchored in Falmouth Harbour. Checking in was just as time-consuming as in our first visit to Jolly Harbour. That was okay, though, because it gave Melissa and me time to take in all the boats—lots of boats! Great! Melissa wasted no time registering with a crew-finder placement company. I'm not sure whether she was excited to get on a new boat or just itching to get off ours, but either way the girl was motivated.

Mid-March was the perfect time to be looking for crew work. In a couple of months the yachts would be hightailing it out of the hurricane zone bound for exotic faraway destinations.

While Melissa pounded the pavement, performed day jobs on various yachts, and networked, Michael and I wandered around the historic ports. We found a great place for mojitos (Club Havana), discovered a place to do laundry, reprovisioned, and sat tight.

One of Melissa's first jobs involved cleaning a very large, very dirty engine room. She polished that baby until her reflection shone, really impressing the crew. They told her they'd have her cleaning toilets next just to see if she'd come back. Of course she said she would. Lucky for her, they were just kidding about the toilets.

After a couple of weeks, Melissa felt confident that one of her day jobs would turn into something more long term and decided to rent a room on the island. That way she could keep doing what she was doing and we could get moving again. So we left her there. We felt as though we were deserting her, but she was 23 years old, had made friends by then, and could always fly to wherever we ended up if need be.

Since she came off our crew roster, we had to get her a one-way flight to anywhere (we chose Puerto Rico) just so immigration would give her a temporary visa to stay until another boat added her as crew.

Leaving her on the dock our final night was hard. I doubt she missed our 4 a.m. wake-up call though. As we raised anchor, we couldn't help but think, Hmm, it seems like we're forgetting something …

Within two months Melissa was on a boat heading to the BVIs, and by the year's end she had gained experience on yachts with longer-ranging destinations. Just goes to show that you never know where life's going to take you.