Vieques to PR

03.01.13

Yesterday was a day of adventure filled with joy, excitement, frustration, anxiety and accomplishment, all within 35 nautical miles.  But first, let’s get up to date from our last post.  On Sunday, Darrell, Ann, Roxy, the Wonder Dog, Dave and I set out on a walk for Flamenco Beach, touted as one of the best five beaches in the world by a travel magazine.  (Dave and I had seen it before…nice but a bit too crowded for us.) 

 

Ann, Darrel, Linda and Jamie

First we walked past the Culebra airport where, in order to land, planes must fly through a pass between two hills, make a slight turn to the left then quickly line up with the runway.  It’s always impressive to watch. 



We then hitched a ride on a golf cart type vehicle with a young guy named Jamie from Utah.  He said that on his last trip to Culebra, he was offered a ride to the beach, so that is why he stopped to offer us a ride.  ‘Twas quite a sight with five adults and a dog crammed on. 

 

 

Carlos Rosario Beach

Alas, when we arrived at Flamenco Beach, Roxy was not allowed, so the only reasonable thing to do was to walk to nearby Rosario Beach where none of us were allowed. Apparently there was unexploded ordnance in the hills, so we were sure to stay on the path.  Slipping through a locked but obviously well used chain link gate and onto a well worn path, we walked about 20 minutes over rustic terrain to a lovely beach on the north side of Culebra.  Just one other couple and a couple of kayakers were there.  This was our kind of beach.  We sat in the shade of small trees at the water’s edge and enjoyed the view.    

 

Dave with old fan coral adornment

On our way back, we stopped by a snack kiosk where Dave picked up a couple of frozen pina colada (sans alcohol).  Delicious and refreshing!   We then started the trek back and who should pass by but Jamie and his girlfriend.  So we topped our previous golf cart record with six adults, a dog plus two folding beach chairs as we wound our way over the three miles back to the town of Dewey. 

Anchored behind the reef at Dakity

The next day, after lunch, we motored over a mile to the mooring field called Dakity located behind the large reef at the entrance to Ensenada Honda.  Alibi was already there.  The water was clear and clean.  Dave cleaned the barnacles off of the bottom of the boat and prop.  It had gotten pretty bad in the warm Caribbean waters.  I took a little swim and also did a little cleaning.  Dakity is a beautiful and peaceful place to moor with only the sound of waves breaking over the reefs.  And that night the orange full moon rising over the reefs was spectacular.

Roxy taking Darrell for a swim in Ensenada Honda, Vieques

Early the next morning, Alibi and Wayward Wind hoisted sails, weighed anchors and left Culebra for another Ensenada Honda (deep cove) in Vieques.  It was a bouncy and blustery but beautiful sail due south and around the eastern tip of Vieques.  For many years the US military used the waters off of eastern Vieques for artillery practice.  And for the last several of those years, the locals protested.  Finally the practice ended and now our tax dollars are going towards cleaning up the thousands and thousands of unexploded ordnance.  The talons of developers have yet to clutch the uninhabited eastern half of the island, so for now it provides lovely and quiet anchorages.  Ensenada Honda is a huge, mangrove-lined cove.  Aside from a small local catamaran bringing snorklers for about an hour, we were the only two boats there for the night.  So peaceful. 

That evening, Ann and Darrell invited us over to share our photos of the past year.  Many memories of good times and maintenance.  “Ah, yes.  Remember the line splicing lesson?”   And so on.  It was so peaceful, we both thought we’d stay another day and night.

The next morning, after listening to Chris Parker’s weather report, Ann and Darrell decided that they’d better take advantage of the weather as they were going upwind and against the current to St. Thomas and the following day the wind would be too light for them.  So another hard good-bye – this time short and sweet – and off sailed our good friends on Alibi. 



Fair winds, Alibi!

After a short discussion, Dave and I decided that we’d go to the next spot, Ferro Bay, about five nautical miles west.  After we left the cove we spotted Alibi tacking to the northeast.  They also spotted us and radioed another farewell.

Ferro Bay dolphin swim-by

Ferro Bay is about halfway down the south coast of Vieques.  We could now see signs of civilization with houses and roads towards the west.  We entered the bay through the narrow opening and anchored – one of five boats.  Several paddle boarders paddled by then were whisked away in a van.  We soon could tell that the other four boats were not occupied.  Again we were alone in this beautiful bay.  That evening, after dark and before the waning fullish moon arose, I passed the boat hook through the water to see illuminated turquoise twinkles of bioluminescence trailing like sparks on a Fourth of July sparkler.  That’s why we’d stopped here.

Ferro Bay entrance

On Thursday, after listening to Chris’ weather report, we left around 7:30 for mainland Puerto Rico about 35 nautical miles to the west.  Chris had said that the winds would be light, so we knew it would be a slow sail and were glad for the early start.  Thus began our day of adventure sailing.

Fishing off of the southern PR coast

The seas were between three and five feet and on our starboard aft so mostly worked to our advantage.  The winds were indeed light, so it took a bit of adjustment to get the wing-on-wing sails to take advantage of the downwind air and not flop in the rolly seas.  Once set, we slowly sailed along.  As the morning passed, we were a bit concerned with time and knew that later we might have to turn on the engine to speed us up but thought we’d wait until the passage between the two islands where hopefully the wind might pick up.  It was almost boring and lunch broke up the monotony. 



Hello, Dolphin!

 

Dolphin Trio

Right after that I spotted a dolphin off to starboard and looked to port and saw three more, all converging on our bow.  I shouted to Dave, “Dolphins!”  We looked and saw many more coming in – a virtual dolphin play convention.  Dave went to the bow and shouted, “Fifteen!”  The dolphins jumped and dove and surfed the bow wake in seemingly utter joy.  Dave, alias Whistles with Dolphins, was hanging off of the bow pulpit communicating with his aquatic mammalian brethren.  With a big grin, he then came back to the helm and said, “Your turn.”  I sat and hung my feet over the side and watched the show in awe.  What is amazing is how they swim in undulating tandem.  Baby swims directly under Mother in unison movement.  A side-by-side trio, the same.  A couple of times, one big guy (or gal) turned to look at me just below my dangling feet.  I looked into its glossy gray eye.  After a good fifteen minutes of cavorting, their energy waned – like children, were they getting bored with this game? – and slowly they peeled off and went on their way.  We never tire of dolphins. 

Dave had his line out and was hoping for a fish.  Just off the east coast of PR, we turned on the motor to make a better time as we did not want to arrive past 4:00.  Figuring that the passage between islands would probably be the most likely place to catch a fish, Dave was beginning to feel disappointed.  He said, “Here fishy, fishy.  Let’s get a nice Mahi Mahi.”  Not long after, ZING went the line and Dave landed a 44-inch Mahi Mahi.  This was turning into a great day!

Ziing!  Pole is bending!

It's a Mahi Mahi!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you, Mahi Mahi, for giving your life up for us

This photo almost captures the unbelievable fluorescent display

Gaffing the fish

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just five miles from Puerto Patillas, our destination, Dave and I were talking and unfortunately Dave missed seeing the floats to a fishing trap.  I happened to look up as the trap was hitting the bow.  “Neutral!” I shouted and hit the lever to neutral.  Too late.  We were trailing a line beneath the stern.  We decided to sail farther offshore, drop sails, then Dave would snorkel to hopefully remove the lines.  Because the wind was so light, it was hard to gain enough speed to turn into the wind without the help of the motor.  We sloppily dropped the main and loosened the sheet on the jib.  Fortunately the sees though rolly were not too high.  Dave held onto a line from the boat and snorkeled under and found that the line had tightly wrapped itself around the prop.  He tried to cut it with a sharp knife but was unsuccessful.  At this point it was nearly 4:00, so on to Plan B.  We would have to sail in and drop the anchor hopefully before dark.  The trick was to avoid the reefs.  We called our friends, Janis and Don, on the cell phone and alerted them to our situation – not a panic situation, but certainly a new one for us.  Don’s dinghy wasn’t working, so he asked a local fisherman to stand by in his small motor boat in case it was after dark before we arrived to help guide us in.  We had the route programmed in our chartplotter, but you never know when it might fail you.  And, yes, we did have our paper chartlet of the bay as well.  Still it was a bit anxiety-producing.   

Dave and I went over our plan several times and luckily sailed in just before sunset.  I got the anchor ready.  Fortunately it is a wide open bay with only three other boats anchored far ahead of us. When we got to our spot, we dropped the main, dropped the anchor then dropped the jib. All went smoothly.  Another first!  Sailors who are reading this are probably thinking, what’s the big deal, but having never done it, it was a bit thrilling! 

Even though we weren’t far enough in to the bay to benefit form the protection of the reef, we didn’t mind the rolly seas and slept soundly that night. 

On Friday morning, we dinghied in to visit Don and Janis in their sweet new home.  It’s a fixer-upper, but they have the vision and the chops to get the job done.  Don and Dave went back to Wayward Wind to try to unfoul the prop.  It was so nice to “let” the guys take care of this, while Janis and I sat in beanbag chairs on the patio and visit before the gorgeous view of the bay.  The guys were out there a long time, so we were worried that things weren’t going well.  A couple of hours later they came back with a thumbs up.  Don said that Dave dove about thirty times to finally get the line cut and free the prop.  Whew!  Good work, Dave!