Arrived in Bermuda

[Maryanne]We arrived, cleared customs, and are now safely anchored, and trying to decide between sleep and food. The bottle of wine is already open.

Bermuda radio were wonderful and helpful throughout our arrival, but we had a little scare/concern when they called us and said they had been asked to forward a message to us. Who would want to send a message to us when we arrived? It turns out that fellow Gemini owners living in Bermuda (Happy Cat) had asked Bermuda Radio to forward as a very warm welcome to Bermuda. We have their contact details and once we are rested we'll be in touch with Geoffrey on Happy Cat. Thanks Geoffrey for the welcome.

The kind words from Happy Cat and Bermuda Radio were not the end of our welcome - Customs came out of their office to met us at the dock and offer us a hand with lines, they were full of helpful advice and smiles. I've done a quick check of our email (for now we have found a wifi signal from the boat) and we've also been given another contact of friends here (Thanks Kate/Terry/Midge). Kyle has to fly off to work on Saturday for a few days, so I'll have plenty of time to clean up.

Anyway - we are here, we are fine and the boat is too.


[Kyle]We finally made it to Bermuda, the beginning and end were rough, particularly the last 30 miles (an all day upwind slog, in cold rainy weather - the first Footprint has seen in a while). Everything in the middle, however, was just exactly what you take up living on a boat for - sunny days and the whole world to yourself with plenty of time to rest and reflect.

So far everyone we've encountered in Bermuda has been exceedingly nice (even the other cruisers waved back at us) - it is quite a nice shock to the system. I know why though - it's because they all must be loaded, I saw a soda machine that accepts $100 bills; I guess that is if the person with you also wants one... Just kidding but everyone keeps warning us that things are really expensive here!

It was strange to have such an abrupt transition from the open ocean to the customs dock (perhaps only 1/2 mile). With no long period of calm seas in between to get my land legs back. I had to hold on to the counter while completing my customs forms to keep from falling over. All is well, and I'm looking forward to not having to be awakened for my next watch. Life is good.

Day 8 - BVI to Bermuda

Position: 31° 50.964 N, 064° 37.842 W

Weather: Overcast, drizzly, cooler, Yuk.

General Comments: Yuk.  The weather turned, winds are now from the North (NNE), almost right into where we want to go. We are currently sailing and tacking to make way, about 45 minutes on one tack, and 1.5 hours on the other (Kyle just passed a boat motoring into the waves, he's happy). We've had drizzly showers on and off, again we are very glad of the enclosure, and I poke my head out as little as possible (So I'm especially not enjoying all the tacking). The seas on the long tack are the worst, although only 1m or less it really pounds the boat - water shoots up in the cockpit scuppers and the head sink, it also causes a trampoline effect in the master bed, and throws things off the cabin table. I'm very glad we have retaining strings on all the shelving now otherwise we'd be picking up off the floor constantly. Kyle says since the wind is not with us, so it must be against us, and is considering reporting to the various anti-terrorist units.

Bermuda has a very effective system for sailboats (Bermuda Harbour Radio).  They ask that you pre-register your details before arrival, and that you call in about 30 miles off. We've been hearing lots of boats report their arrival, the officials are helpful with directions and instructions (warning about any moved buoys, or cruise ships to avoid, etc), and it feels like a little air traffic control system for boats. They are calm and friendly with all their questions - we have yet to quite make it to the 30 miles out point but we are looking forward to our turn with Bermuda Radio.

Progress: Yesterday we made 135.48 nm, So far on this trip we have traveled (through the water) 824 nm, and have 33 nm (straight line) to go.

Estimated Arrival: Should be later this afternoon/evening.

Day 7 - BVI to Bermuda

Position: 30° 03.020 N, 064° 36.612 W

Weather: Dry, Calm, Fine (squall passed well away from us overnight)

General Comments: Wind died down to almost nothing, and we were traveling at under 1 kt.  along with the clear skies made for a hot day.  Given the Bermuda forecast was for strong headwinds by Thursday, we decided to motor for 12 hours to arrive ahead of that.  Currently sailing with screacher in about 15kts of SSW wind - good progress along our course line.  We saw another couple of boats yesterday, in particular "Last of the Normal People" and Footprint passed each other several times as we each fiddled with sails, I expect we'll see them in Bermuda.  He came astern of us as we were giving up and putting our sails down, he called on the radio to offer any help, we chatted for a bit.  The seas have been flat and comfortable for the last few days (almost like being in a marina) but now the swells coming up and there has been a lot of (gentle) lurching around.  This makes for an extra step when doing the dishes - swearing.  We expect (per forecast) the winds to increase to around 25kt before they shift to the NE - hopefully we'll be able to grab onto them and get a fast ride into Bermuda before the change.  Still married.

Progress: Yesterday we made 106 nm, So far on this trip we have traveled (through the water) 700 nm, and have 140 nm (straight line) to go.

Estimated Arrival: No Change in expected arrival time - 14th.

Day 6 - BVI to Bermuda

Position: 28° 16.955 N, 064° 33.203 W

Weather: Fair, dry, clear

General Comments: We are now sailing downwind in light winds (heading pretty much due north, winds are south at 7kt). We have the main and the screacher wing-on-wing to make the most of it, and are making way slowly at around 3 kt. Very slow going, the speed indicator has never quite read zero, but at one point we were traveling a boat length per minute - very frustrating once we saw other boats. We saw 3 sailboats on the horizon yesterday, all motor-sailing, or just motoring, but they all obviously knew each other and it was fun to listen to their chatter on the VHF. One had just found a TV floating by!!!! Another was clearly having some kind of marital dispute (oops!). We attempted to hail them but got no reply. Kyle also saw 2 ships, probably both headed to the Panama Canal. So yesterday seemed like a busy day on the water.

We are currently reading a really good book called "The Whale Warriors", which tells the story of one season in Antarctica where an extreme eco group attempts to stop the Japanese from illegally killing 1000's of whales. It's well written apart from the writers annoying repeated poor spelling of EPIRB (he spells it Epurb). I guess his editor and proof reader didn't know much about boats heading off shore!

Progress: Yesterday we made 85nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 581nm, and have 247nm (straight line) to go.

Estimated Arrival: No Change in expected arrival time - 14th May

BVI-Bermuda - Day 5

Position: 27° 00.421 N, 064° 32.869 W

 

Weather:  Dry, calm, fine

 

General Comments: Nothing!  No ships, no birds, no flying fish, we are on our own here.  A little more Sargasso seaweed; we seem to be sailing off the edge of the trade winds.  Currently under screacher about 110 degrees off the wind.  A nice gentle motion.  However wind is dropping (currently around 8kt true).  We know we'll soon be experiencing shifty and still declining winds (and Kyle is not going to like that).

 

Progress: Yesterday we made 127 nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 504 nm, and have 324 nm (straight line) to go. 

 

Estimated Arrival: No Change in expected arrival time - 14th May.

Day 4 - BVI to Bermuda

Position at 6am : 24° 56.060 N, 064° 31.051 W

 

Weather: Dry ,fair

 

General Comments: Right after yesterday reporting we were now sailing more downwind, the wind shifted back, so for most of the journey we've been sailing around 70 degrees apparent, not too bad.  Seas are calmer (about 1.5m high).  We are getting the usual slamming, but are living with it just fine.  Winds are calming (currently around 15kt).  Seasickness fully gone now in us both, and we are functioning and eating normally.  No ships sighted within the last 36 hours - just a few terns who followed us for a while hoping we were fishing I guess.  Life aboard Footprint is fine.  Yesterday afternoon we crossed over the Tropic of Cancer - officially leaving the tropics.  Water temperature is now just less than 30 degrees C (signs that we are definitely headed North).

 

Progress: Yesterday we made 160.65 nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 382.69 nm, and have 446 nm (straight line) to go.

 

Estimated Arrival: No Change in expected arrival time: approx 14th May

Day 3 At Sea - Report

Position: 22° 16.523 N, 064° 28.780 W, heading North from the British Virgin Islands to Bermuda

Weather: Dry, fair.  Overcast, not at all tropical

General Comments: A little more sea sickness, but I think we are finally now past that and settled into the passage (just managed to enjoy breakfast).  Still not fully adapted to watch system, but one more good sleep and I think we will each be there.  Yesterday the shackle pin was lost from the topping lift and we found that flying around.  Recovered, but then managed to get line caught in wind generator blades - all recovered and working fine now.  Toilet seat broke (again), and we discovered one of the hinge pins for the cockpit door missing (could have been for a while) - so a few minor repairs at sea.

The wind has recently clocked to SSE, so a little more downwind passage, but also decreased with the morning.  We want to make as much progress as we can since we are expecting calms as we approach Bermuda.

Progress: Yesterday we made 149.25 nm, So far on this trip we have traveled (through the water) 224.66 nm, and have 606 nm (route/track line) to go.

Day 2 - BVI to Bermuda

We set off around 6pm last night (Wed night).  The weather is OK - wind about 70 apparent.  We've each made our typical first day at sea offering to the fish.  We are using the enclosure, and despite the wind coming from the starboard (helm) side around 20kt - I can sit watch even at night with just a t-shirt.  Enclosure makes life much more comfortable.

Kyle reports rough night but fast, still getting into sleep pattern, I'm just up from a good rest (Maryanne), but poor Kyle is ready for his bed to catch up with some zzzz's

Progress: Yesterday we made 36 nm in our partial day, So far on this trip we have traveled (through the water) 70.5 nm, and have 764 nm (straight line) to go.  We are just to enter the Puerto Rico Trench (about 26,000' deep) - deepest part of the Atlantic Kyle tells me.

Overcast night, but full moon almost so reasonable visibility.  2 big cruise ships was all we saw all night.

Unexpected Early Departure

[Maryanne]We are leaving the BVI tonight (Early hours of Thur 7th May) - A change of plan. Originally we had intended to leave the BVI next week sometime, and I've been quietly preparing for that. However, the wind forecasts for that time are not so good. Kyle has just received an unexpected extra few days off work, and he believes we will have a much better weather window if we leave now.

Luckily, even with this recent/unexpected change of plan, the boat is ready, supplies are aboard, and all the important jobs had been done.

You can (hopefully) as always follow our progress using the map and links on the Right hand side (Or just Click here for a direct link to our Yotreps page

Farewell to the Caribbean

[Kyle]Memory can be a strange thing. At times it seems that Maryanne and I just arrived in the Caribbean, at others, it seems as if we have been here for a very long time. Mostly, it depends whether I think back to our arrival in Antigua directly or whether I try to remember it as a thread that passes through all of the places we have been and the things we have seen since then. In either case, it seems strange to think that our time here is already coming to an end.

There has been much about the Caribbean that has been an irritant or a disappointment. We have not, for the most part, found the people there to be particularly laid back and friendly, whether local or tourist. Locals seem to have the barest tolerance for us. Tourists, for the most part, seem to be just as self-absorbed and narcissistic down here as they must be back at home, as if somehow a week or two down here isn’t long enough to wind completely down from the dog eat dog world of their high-stress lives. It must be a terrible thing to come to such a place and know that just as you get a taste of it, it’s going to be time to leave. Most people seem to cope with this by engaging in a marathon of partying and never seem to learn to relax and just take in the place.

[Maryanne]Kyle is right that "for the most part" we have not found locals nor other cruisers that friendly. There have been some notable exceptions and for these we are grateful. I think we arrived at the Caribbean expecting the postcard / fairy tale version. It was a shock to find most islands import ALL their food from Miami (even the fish), and we experienced many other similar shocks. We've had a splendid time once we settled in, and have enjoyed empty beaches, and stunning sunsets - no regrets and 1000 new wonderful memories.

[Kyle]To be fair to the locals, the islands are pretty overrun with tourists during the season, many of whom act like they’re entitled to be waited on hand and foot by people they treat as nothing but servants. The most popular response to this seems to be to charge an arm and a leg for everything, even in excess of what would be reasonable considering that everything has to be imported.

In spite of this, though, the Caribbean is a stunningly beautiful place. The pictures in the magazines and the travel brochures are not faked. In fact, photographs, no matter how good, cannot do justice to what it feels like to stand in the place and have it fill your whole field of view, your toes in powdery sand and the sounds of surf and the trade winds rustling the palm fronds. And then there’s the water, hypnotic in its irresistible warmth and its other-worldly blueness.

Often, at the end of the day, as I watch the sun make its near-vertical plunge over the horizon, I sit in quiet amazement at the sheer beauty of the place. It still surprises and amazes me that we are actually here, that we actually made it and had the privilege to spend half a year down here, hopping from island to island.

Aboard Footprint, we have taken the time to sit back and enjoy the Caribbean. We’ve had a few late nights out but for the most part, we have avoided the crowds and the party spots and enjoyed being part of the nature unfolding around us. We’ve spent whole days trudging on empty islands. We’ve also had days where we’ve spent more of our time awake in the water than out. It’s like being kids again. We just can’t seem to stay out of the ‘pool’. There is so much cool stuff to see.

The signs that it is quickly approaching the time to leave are becoming harder to ignore. The airlines are starting to reduce their flights and the anchorages are slowly thinning out. The really noticeable thing for me is the change in the Sun. The days are barely longer than they were in the winter and the weather, for the most part, is as benign as ever. The thing that’s different is that the Sun is getting higher in the sky. Right now, it’s practically straight up at local Noon. Walking around, our shadows are little blobs hanging around our feet, and it’s hot.

I know we have other places to go and I am, of course, looking forward to them all. I will miss the Caribbean, though, with its reliable breezes and its water you can just jump into any time day or night.

Farewell to Trellis Bay (for me)

Kyle out getting pictures of Trellis Bay, and the surrounding trails
[Kyle]On my last trip home, I only had one day. Maryanne and I took a relatively easy day hanging around Trellis Bay. In the morning, Maryanne took me out running on a route that included most of the trails on Beef Island. Afterward, we tramped all over the island and through the village taking pictures. Exhausted and hungry, we then had veggie rotis from the market and then had intended to go back to Footprint, but then we got sidetracked.

Another dinghy at the dinghy dock had been swamped and sank after one of its buoyancy compartments had flooded. We took it upon ourselves to bail it out and then drag it up on the beach to drain the compartment. The whole thing took us maybe two hours. I guess we were feeling industrious after our rotis.

Back at Footprint, we got to spend the evening watching charter boats run aground behind us on the shoal. We'd wave and yell and then people would acknowledge us and run aground without changing course. A lot of people seem to think that if they just pass close behind us, they will get through. They don't seem to notice that even we have our rudders up so there's no chance for their keel. One group in a dinghy even thanked us, saying the guy at the helm wouldn't listen to them. Then they ran aground. Better than television.

[Maryanne]We never really intended to stay in Trellis Bay, but apart from our sojourns when Kyle is home, we've made it home for Footprint. We got the tip from a fellow cruiser we met in Anguilla, and we are really happy we followed through. It is such a peaceful place to just hang out.

Since we know we won't be here much longer, and this trip home of Kyle's was so short, we decided just to hang out in the Bay. Without being in the least bit competitive (yeah, right!), we took a camera each and got photos of some our our favorite places - all within walking distance of the dinghy dock. Naturally I won, but I have put at least one of Kyle's shots in the photos below (But all the good ones are mine :-), gees, I'm such a good sport.

Trellis Bay photo shoot - A taste of this peaceful bay

Where are you from?

[Kyle]One of the odd juxtapositions of my job as an airline pilot is that even though I work in a large company with thousands of other flight crew members, almost every time I go to work for the week, I find myself working with other people who have also worked at the same company for years, but who I have never even seen before that day. Occasionally, I will recognize somebody’s face as one that I have exchanged nods or hellos with a few times, but that is the extent of our relationship. This is in part because none of us work the same hours and also because we are physically separated from each other by hundreds of miles most of the time.

This makes for a few awkward moments at the beginning of the week as we size each other up and try to figure out what the trip is going to be like. This process is prolonged by the fact that the time that the airplane is on the ground is a very busy time for each of us, with the pace of work being generally too hectic to partake in much socializing. I have to input the flight plan and do various systems checks, the First Officer also has to do system checks, plus the pre-flight inspection and the bulk of the paperwork. The Flight Attendant is busy checking the cabin safety equipment and then greeting the passengers. Several briefings are exchanged so that we can all be sure of being on the same page. What this often means is that the first time I am able to engage in any kind of small talk with the First Officer is toward the top of the climb, when things have quieted down a bit. For the Flight Attendant, we may be able to squeeze some small talk in during boarding but, usually, it’s on the van ride to our first hotel.

As I’m sure it is with other groups of people, airline crews have a few standard questions we ask each other to break the ice. The most common seem to be “How long have you worked here?”, “What did you do before this job?” and, “Where are you from?” This last one may seem odd to people who work in a fixed location with everybody living in the vicinity and as a matter of fact, I don’t recall hearing that question asked before I got this job except on rare occasions, such as meeting a new neighbor or hearing an unusual accent .

It is this last question that gives me trouble. I never have a good answer, or at least a reasonably short one. Like the question, “How are you doing?” People are expecting a short answer and not a long diatribe about your life. This question has a few variations, namely “Where do you live?” and “Do you commute?” For airline people, commuting specifically means by plane from another city, as opposed to driving to work, which we call driving. Airline people actually ask each other questions like, “Do you commute or do you drive?”

Most people I meet seem to have followed a standard pattern. They grow up in an area, move out of the house to somewhere in the same area, maybe they leave for a few years to go to University but they’re soon back in the same town getting a job, buying a house and raising a family. Occasionally, they grow up in one area and relocate to another, which eventually becomes the place they’re ‘from’. For most crews, working out of town is an aberration and the commute allows them to live in the place they consider home. If somebody says they commute from Greensboro, it is likely that they’ve spent the bulk of their lives in and around Greensboro and intend to keep doing so. My last First Officer, for example, grew up in the Washington, D.C. area but now lives in Charlotte, N.C. He’s not sure whether he’s going to stay in Charlotte permanently or if he’ll go back to D.C. My Flight Attendant grew up in Alabama but has decided to move to Nashville permanently.

I haven’t really followed that pattern. I did grow up in the Denver area. When I was young and imagining what my life would be like, I just assumed most of it would take place in Denver. This was less because of an attachment to Denver as home than it was just my not understanding that anything else was even a possibility. For what it’s worth, I feel no attachment to the Denver area and haven’t done so for a very long time. I spent most of my childhood there in and around the mountains to the west of Denver. Denver itself has become unrecognizable to me in the two decades since I lived there last. The place seems to be all McMansions and huge, sprawling malls. It could be any city of a certain size in the U.S.

I did spend a lot of time all over the mountains to the west of Denver and I do feel a special affinity for the American West. Any time I am where mountains reach into the sky, I do feel like I’m where I’m from. It matters not whether I’m in Arizona or Colorado or California or Oregon.

Since leaving the Western U.S., I’ve lived in lots of places that were just places to live but it still could legitimately be said that I lived there. Now that Maryanne and I are out cruising, we find ourselves in the strange position of living lots of places, just not officially. Right now, we ‘live’ in the BVI but we don’t have residency status within the country. To them, we’re just tourists who they think have stayed awfully long. Unlike a lot of cruisers who may have kept a house while they took a year or two off to go cruising, Maryanne and I don’t have another house. The only place that we have to live is aboard Footprint. For me, home is anywhere both Maryanne and the boat are. I’ll arrive at a place we’ve been for only a week and when I get on the boat with Maryanne, I feel the relief that anybody feels when they go through their front door at the end of the day and know they’re home.

The most accurate answer I’ve been able to come up with to the “Where do you live?” question is to say that I live on my boat. If the boat ‘lives’ somewhere, like when we had a contract for a slip in Portsmouth, it could be said by extension that we lived in Portsmouth. Now we just anchor a lot of places that we visit in the boat on which we live, so there’s no good answer, at least to those trying to figure out where to place my personality geographically.

The problem, I think, is that most of society is not made up of people who are nomadic and so the language we are used to using assumes that Maryanne and I live somewhere permanent or that we’re only out temporarily and will finish soon and go ‘home’. When we have been out with other cruisers, however, we get questions like “Which boat is yours?” and “Where have you been?” to which we do have quick, easy answers.