Today we beat up the Windward Passage on the NW side of StJ, into a NE wind and current. I’ll never forget the stark beauty of passing to weather of the Blunder Rocks on the NE end of Lovango Cay. I doubt the square riggers did this very often, and I’m sure they weren’t following the COG vector on their electronic chart plotters. Even today there were very few other boats sailing upwind. But any suggestion that our glorious sail was remotely heroic is purely comical. The route was only six miles. We had to zig and zag this way and that (but not hither and yon) just to get some sailing in.
What can I say? It’s a challenge to sail very far in the Virgin Islands. Everything is ridiculously close together and the pain of passing so many gorgeous bays and islands cannot be endured. Little boats tow big RIBs with big outboards. RIBs and sit-on-top kayaks go everywhere. Except for a few tricky places, there is always shelter nearby. Sailboats typically motor-sail or just motor. As reported long ago by Peter Burch, sailing here is just what you do when you want to change your view. If you get tired of the fish or the panorama, just go a few miles around the bend. You in the islands, mon.
The girls would ask, “How far are we going today?” I’d answer, “from Marion to Cleveland Ledge—but not back.” On a long day here, the answer would be, “from Marion to Hadley Harbor.” If the 20+ mile days of our BYC summer cruises seem short, here they’d be 5 mile days! Block Island is farther from Marion (a 50nm day sail) than the maximum NE/SW extent of the combined US and British Virgin Islands, and most boats are within half of that distance. (Remind me to post a rant about Anegada –IMHO the greatest of all charterer fictions.) The maximum NW/SE width of the islands is less than ten miles and Drake Passage is barely five miles wide! But who cares? I could spend weeks happily sailing back and forth along the south coast of StJ (the best sailing here IMHO) --just as I annually put 1500 nm on Heron’s log just counting the zigs and zags within Buzzards Bay.
The girls would ask, “How far are we going today?” I’d answer, “from Marion to Cleveland Ledge—but not back.” On a long day here, the answer would be, “from Marion to Hadley Harbor.” If the 20+ mile days of our BYC summer cruises seem short, here they’d be 5 mile days! Block Island is farther from Marion (a 50nm day sail) than the maximum NE/SW extent of the combined US and British Virgin Islands, and most boats are within half of that distance. (Remind me to post a rant about Anegada –IMHO the greatest of all charterer fictions.) The maximum NW/SE width of the islands is less than ten miles and Drake Passage is barely five miles wide! But who cares? I could spend weeks happily sailing back and forth along the south coast of StJ (the best sailing here IMHO) --just as I annually put 1500 nm on Heron’s log just counting the zigs and zags within Buzzards Bay.
Meanwhile, with Heron tied to a US National Park Service mooring, the seven snorkelers patrolled the reef on the N shore of Francis Bay. It was beautiful, but things were churned up a bit and we saw more fish in Christmas Cove. It was a thrill to swim ashore from the mooring. Jumping off the transom into 30 feet of water, you can just make out the bottom so it feels like you are swimming in blue space. Closer to shore, at a depth of 20 feet the bottom pops out of the blue into vivid detail. At 10 feet, it seems like you can touch the sandy bottom. We spend all of our time drifting or swimming back and forth along the rocks on the shore in even shallower water, since that is where all the fish and coral are. Here, diving with tanks doesn’t make sense unless you explore deep wrecks,or deep ocean shelf walls or rarely visited underwater piles of rocks.
Our wildlife thrill happened back aboard when a large sea turtle swam past. They periodically stick their heads out of the water to look around (I guess), becoming suddenly apparent to half-baked humans on boats. QUICK. Get the camera. Later, the park volunteer explained that the turtles love to eat the turtle grass located in the shallow sandy area in the NE corner of the bay. She was happy to report that both the grass and the turtles seem to be thriving and growing more numerous. She also reported that a huge powerboat was chased out of the bay after it ran its underwater disco lights all night. They have strict rules within the park that are designed to preserve the wildlife.
Later in the afternoon we went ashore at the Maho Bay Camp. Imagine a sandy beach at the base of a lush green hill. Wooden stairs rise up through the growth, switching back and forth with tent cabins perched along the way. At one point we looked up to see a 3 foot wild iguana resting in a branch just above our heads. I was loving my hat after a passerby mentioned that they like to poop on people below. At the top of the climb there is an open-air restaurant that juts out over the trees with a great view of the bay several hundred feet below. They serve a delicious, inexpensive and healthy sunset buffet that we have been looking forward to ever since Peter took us here on our 2010 cruise aboard J/46 Skittery Gusset. That’s how the day ended: cold beer, curried chicken and a gorgeous sunset on the bay. Julia, Kelsey and Emily each received a parentally approved henna tattoo. They were now members of the cult of island chicks. They discouraged me from getting an anchor on my bicept. Oye.
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