SERENITY NOW

  Left our sweet spot at Jumby Bay on Long Island (just off Antigua) and wove our way out through the reefs to make the crossing North to Barbuda. As we upped anchor, I thought to myself: ‘Today’s going to be one of those days’ - the ones where the wind is just right, the sun shines and you blissfully glide across the water without a care in the world. Well, it was nearly one of those days.... the wind was good, the sun did shine, but sadly it wasn’t quite as blissful as hoped for. Once away from the relative protection of the reefs, the high, side on swell rapidly became uncomfortable. I was OK with it, riding up and down on the deck as we were tossed around bucking bronco style. Chez didn’t fair quite so well.. that’s putting it very mildly. In the four years since we started sailing, this was the worst bout of seasickness she’s ever suffered. She was completely incapacitated, unable to even sit upright. With me acting as her somewhat inept nurse, she lay, life jacket on, wretch...

  After settling up with the marina and fuelling up we left Jolly Harbour on a breezy sunny day. Good to be on the move again. We headed the short hop clockwise around the island to the mainly uninhabited Hermitage Bay. It ticks the picturesque boxes: lush surrounding hills, almost white long sandy beaches and only a few lunching mega yachts for company. They soon departed leaving just us, an occasional pelican and not much else to enjoy the afternoon. The spot we’ve chosen to anchor is just off the beach of the Hermitage Bay resort, a good looking spot with wooden cabanas in the hills for $1800USD per night. A bonus for us is that they have free wifi and a signal strong enough to reach the boat....ah simple pleasures! Stayed there for a few days relaxing and fishing - only partially successfully. I caught a good eating sized sand diver which I popped in a bucket on the transom while I did the identification. Returned a minute later to an empty bucket - lucky/clever so and so. Also...

  3 Feb 2022 (Antigua 1) Arrived at close to sunset into a packed English harbour with our engine surely running on fumes alone by that stage. Our too close anchoring began a conversation with some Swedish neighbours. This started on the wrong foot, but thankfully developed into a helpful discussion on all our options for fuel, anchoring and checking in. The upshot of that chat was us heading just around the corner to anchor in the bay at Falmouth. Initial impressions - delightful! As we dropped anchor a large turtle joined us, frigate birds circled and swooped. All enjoyed a flat calm proper sleep. The next morning we radioed for a medical check, stood by as instructed, then headed back across to Nelson’s old stomping ground on foot. English harbour has retained a lot of its original Georgian stone buildings around the water. These, interspersed with palm and mango trees gives the whole place a great old world navy feel. Happily, the medical check and immigration were painless - w...

Woke to: “I might need a hand, there’s squalls around” ..and although there were, we reefed and managed to avoid the worst of them. This did give us enough ‘correct’ wind to spend some of the morning sailing, before our signature tune ‘Flappety flap flap flap’ started playing in the rigging. Once we plucked up courage to try flying the spinnaker again, the wind turned gusty and rain came down - it did not go well. Sushi for lunch (for me at least) Then as Martin caught up on some sleep in the front cabin, we were visited by a pod of around 25 playful dolphins who spent some time messing around at our bow - always a good mood lifter. Dinner was a close to the bottom of the provisioning barrel concoction of noodles and the last of the ‘fresh’ veggies. “SHIP!!” Cries the skipper after dinner as the galley slaves are washing up below. Sure enough, the first vessel for over a week is spotted on the horizon. It’s a massive I don’t know what - possibly military as no sign of it on the AIS. La...

Woken by Chez having some issues with keeping the Hydrovane on course, and to the news that Martin quite possibly has Covid. He’s still not feeling too good - headache and nausea. Thankfully after taking one of the self tests, he came back with a negative, so it’s not Covid. For now, we’re putting it down to him adjusting to the lack of sleep, the constant uncomfortable rolling and the bracing sea air. ...or possibly the company! I made sushi for brunch with the last of the mahi-mahi (got to thinking; is that the same fish they call dorado?). Cooked rice, rolled it up with strips of fish and cucumber in nori (seaweed sheets), then chilled. Ate with soy sauce, fresh ginger and wasabi - absolutely delicious! Reminded me of days at the sushi train restaurant back in Sydney with Charlie stacking empty plates up like they’re going out of fashion. The wind has finally started doing what it’s supposed to be doing - whizzing us West at somewhere between 6 and 7 knots - hoping that the days (an...

  Well, despite the skipper having Covid - we’re off! Day 1: Wednesday 12 Jan 2022 All glad to be heading away from Mindelo. Not the worst place in the world by a long shot, but still glad to be saying goodbye. We leave in very hazy conditions - apparently a wind known as the ‘Hammatan’ (not to be confused with MC Hammer’s 80s hit ‘Hammertime’) blows dust over from the Sahara and creates a false fog which reduces visibility considerably. As I write this we’re passing another of the Verde islands just 3 miles to our North and there is no sign of it whatsoever. 10 minutes into the journey, and Martin has successfully begun our fish tally for this leg with a handsome Almaco Amberjack (AKA Longfin Yellowtail). A good sized fish with two forks in the guide book meaning excellent eating. That’s now filleted and marinating for dinner tonight in a mixture of soy, honey, ginger, garlic and chilli... yum. For now at least, a depleted Chez has retired to her cabin - we think resting is the be...

  Mindelo is a bit of a tired rundown town, dusty streets lined with crumbling pastel coloured former Portuguese Colonial architecture. Stray dingo-like dogs curl in the sun at every corner - and whilst possibly rabid, they all appear quite tail waggingly friendly and surprisingly well fed. The coffee skinned locals have a lot of hanging around time on their hands too, mainly decked out in unknown football teams strips they group around in palm tree shaded spots here and there. The whole place very reminiscent of Port Morseby in Papua New Guinea from my perspective. Despite the obvious poverty - there’s no begging, and a tolerable, but only mildly annoying number of people trying to hustle and hassle you in one way or another. The open fish market was worth a look for the shear size of the fish within: it made our mahi mahi efforts look pretty insignificant. There’s a wide array of exotic fish on display, outnumbered by flies 10:1 which the stall holders gently waft away with straw...