Captain for 12 days

 

After weeks of island-hopping in the British Virgin Islands, it was time for Hans to go back to work in the States. His flight was out of Tortola on April 11 and our BVI visas expired on April 14. No extension was possible; we couldn’t wait in Tortola for him to return.  One obvious option was to change his flight to the USVI or Puerto Rico and hightail it to St. Thomas or Culebra where we could have done our usual and wait in one spot for him to return, but that seemed like a rushed exit from the BVI. Plus we’d miss exploring the north coast of St. John. My hand was forced. Time for me to captain Positive Waves with my trusty crew of two. I’ve been sailing and boating for the majority of my adult life and I’ve been living and sailing on Positive Waves for almost two years. I’ve crossed the Atlantic Ocean on this boat! Of course I can captain PW from the BVI to Culebra, approximately 40 nautical miles with plenty of stops along the way! (Can I? Do I want to?)

We have twelve days to sail from BVI to Culebra where Hans returns on April 22. BVI —> St. John —> St. Thomas —> Culebra. Possible anchorages along the way: the north coast of St. John which is the Virgin Islands National Park; Christmas Cove (which is also the western shore of Jeffrey Epstein’s private island, puke); Charlotte Amalie by April 19 for the kids’ second covid vaccine shot; and finally Culebra, our most favorite spot in the Caribbean and also where we spent our honeymoon.

Day 1: BVI to St. John

After a 4:30 AM re-anchoring fire drill in Road Town (the wind shifted and we were uncomfortably close to a reef), we got Hans on a taxi to the airport around 9:30AM and dinghies back to PW to start our adventure. The kids were 100% in. I’ve literally never seen them so engaged, so pumped, so ready to help, and so interested in the sailing. They hoisted the dinghy by themselves, turned on the chart plotter, turned on the engine, and had a little tiff about who would use the windlass remote to weigh anchor. (These are all basic pre-departure jobs that they have never expressed any interest in before.) With the anchor up we motored out of Road Town harbor with some serious butterflies in my stomach. Once out of the protection of the harbor, the wind filled in, Freja released the clutch on the jib roller furling, I pulled on the sheet to trim the sail and we were off! Matilda turned the engine off, I turned the autopilot on, and the three of us marveled that we were actually doing it!

The sail was exactly what I expected and also the main reason why I felt comfortable moving the boat without Hans. It’s all downwind from the BVI to Culebra and with the consistent tradewinds it is all easily sailed with the genoa alone. Our mainsail is big and heavy and, without an electric winch, very difficult for me to raise alone. Running downwind with the main also requires a preventer and usually always a spinnaker pole for the genoa to sail wing and wing. That’s a lot of work and heavy lifting for one person. Jib sailing is definitely the right choice for the circumstances.

After a short two hours, we sailed into Francis Bay on the north coast of St. Joh. Because it is part of the National Park Service, all boats are required to pick up a mooring to prevent damage to the seabed by anchors and anchor chain. No worries, we’d been practicing! Everyone has a job and we all took our positions: I am at the helm, Freja is at the bow with the boat hook pointing to the mooring and standing at the ready to grab the mooring painter, and Matilda is next to her with our mooring line in hand ready to feed the line through the eye. I slowly approached the mooring, Freja leaned over and snagged the painter on the first try, I ran up on deck to help, and we got our line through the eye and back to our cleat on the first try. Success! High fives all around!

After a quick swim and some lunch, we went down below for a couple hours of school. It was a Monday, after all! While the kids worked through their math problems and writing assignments, I logged our information into the Customs and Border Patrol’s ROAM app which, according to their website, is the way to check in to the USVI. After a couple hours of seeing a little “processing” icon on the screen, I called the office in Cruz Bay. Nope, they’re not using ROAM in the USVI (even though we successfully used it in St. Croix just six weeks ago) and I needed to go in-person to the office in Cruz Bay. That would have to wait until morning.

A few hours later our friends on Omana pulled into the anchorage and invited us over for dinner. We happily jumped in the dinghy and received lots of congratulations from the whole crew. We said our goodbyes early since we needed to wake up at 6:30 to move the boat to Cruz Bay the next morning. Omana was continuing to head west but we have plans to meet up again in Culebra.

Day 2: Francis Bay to Caneel Bay

I was awoken at 4:30 by the boat rolling from beam to beam. A northwest swell (weird) had worked its way into the anchorage and without the wind we were just rolling around at the mooring ball. So it wasn’t a bad idea to move after all. We motored about 45 minutes around the corner and got ready to pick up a mooring ball in Caneel Bay. It was only 7:15 in the morning but the NPS volunteer, Jeff, was already out in his dinghy checking on the visiting boats. Pre-coffee and with the sun in my eyes, I did a less than stellar job driving the boat to the mooring. I drove too fast and while Freja did grab the mooring line with the boat hook, it got pulled under the boat and she had to drop the boat hook. Thankfully Jeff saw it all happen and he quickly came over to help out. He retrieved our boat hook, passed it back to Freja, and positioned himself at the mooring ball to hand the eye to Freja. Again I was too fast but I threw the engine in reverse and we were able to secure the line.

10 minutes later Jeff, our NPS friend, came back over in his dinghy with news that a mooring ball in the inner harbor area had opened up and he would guide us there. Engine back on, everyone in position! The sun was really in my eyes this time, and I was a little hyped up after missing the ball the first time around, so I unfortunately did no better this time and repeated the exact same mistake. But Jeff was there to help and he again retrieved the boat hook and again held up the painter for Freja to grab. Easy mistakes and ones that I will avoid with more practice.

Securely tied to the ball in a gorgeous little cove, we jumped in the dingy with our official boat papers and went around the corner to Customs and Border Patrol. The official was exceedingly unfriendly, rude, and condescending, but I tried my best to ignore it, fill out the paperwork, and get our official clearance. With that bureaucracy done, we found a perfect cafe which served classic American breakfasts. Matilda was in seventh heaven and both kids had a massive pancake and smoothie.

On the swim platform, ready to get in the dinghy to go ashore.

Back to the boat for school, swimming, lunch, school.

Day 3

Matilda woke up with one thing on her mind: breakfast at the cafe. Fine by me! We went ashore, had a massive breakfast, finally found a little store that sold hair ties (we were down to the last two on the boat and Freja and I were protecting them with our lives!), and spent an hour or so at the National Park Visitor Center completing the Junior Ranger books and getting the National Park passport books.

Back to the boat, swimming and school. Apples and peanut butter for lunch after the 1500 calorie breakfast.

We watched the movie Luca with dinner and all went to bed early. It’s a comfortable anchorage so we’ll likely stay here for a few more days to stay focused on school, snorkel the north side of the bay, spend some time at the beach, and generally just slow down after the busy pace we kept for three weeks in the BVI.

Day 4: Caneel Bay to Christmas Cove

Our pretty anchorage turned rolly in the night so our first task in the morning was to move to a calmer spot. I decided to move us to Christmas Cove off Great St. James Island off the east coast of St. Thomas. It’s a busy anchorage and can be bouncy during the day with ferry and boat traffic between St. Thomas and St. John, but it’s also protected and has good holding. The kids and I went down below and secured all items that could fly with an errant ferry wake, then we went up top and tidied the cockpit. All laundry was taken off the lines, the dinghy was hoisted, time to start the engine. I tamped down the butterflies in my stomach, turned the engine on, and the kids went to the bow to release the mooring lines. That was easy and once I could see that our bow was clear of the mooring ball and painter, I put the engine in forward and motored out of the anchorage. So far so good.

We motored the four miles across Pillsbury Sound, changing course at one point to give right-of-way to a barge, and turned the corner into the protected waters behind Great St. James. Freja got the windlass remote control and both kids went on the bow to deploy the anchor. We were here a few weeks ago and had a great calm spot behind a reef. But that was with Hans at the helm and he is a pro at piloting PW in tight quarters and finding the perfect anchoring spot. I fall more into the “let’s just drop the hook at the back of the pack and be certain we have plenty of swinging room” camp. Our first spot showed a depth of 9 meters, not ideal. We tried another spot amongst more boats but there was also a bigger monohull circling the area trying to pick up a mooring ball. Too much action for my liking so we went back to the original spot and dropped the hook and plenty of chain in 9 meters. It's a fine spot but definitely exposed to daytime ferry and boat wake. There are some boats moored here permanently; I can’t imagine putting up with all the wake every day.

Securely anchored, we all jumped in and checked the anchor. It’s amazing the amount of responsibility the kids inherently take on when Hans isn’t here. Usually just Hans or I will swim on the anchor to check that it’s set, and definitely not always. This time it wasn’t even an option. The kids immediately put on their suits and snorkeling masks and jumped overboard. Thankfully the anchor was set well so we could all relax and…get some schoolwork done!

We dinghied ashore a little before sunset and did a little beach combing. I enjoyed a rum & tonic while the kids clambered the rocks. Freja got stung by a bee for the first time; and thank goodness she’s not allergic. Now we know.

The rocky beach at Christmas Cove. So much dead coral washed ashore.

Mini-disaster struck when we returned to the boat. As usual, Matilda stood on the bow of the dinghy and as I approached the swim platform she jumped off and secured the dinghy to PW. She then pulled the dinghy in so Freja and I could get off. She pulled the dinghy in way too fast and suddenly the bow bumped on the very sharp aluminum corner of the swim platform and POP…hisss….Houston we have a problem.

The puncture.

The sad, deflated dinghy.

I immediately yelled at Matilda to go to her room before I said things I would regret. She ran to her room sobbing; I stood on the swim platform and stared at the quickly deflating dinghy while Freja told me all the “it could be worse” scenarios. I cried a little, swore a little, and took some deep breaths to pull myself together. Not completely together, I called Hans at work, cried some more and tried to listen to his logic. I knew of course, that I wasn’t just crying about the dinghy. Yes, a hole in the dinghy sucks, a lot. But it’s fixable. But can I fix it? Will my fix work? Our dinghy is our only ship to shore transportation. This is all on me. Just like anchoring, dishes, food, watermaking, sailing, school, etc. etc. etc. For twelve days, it’s all on me.

Freja and I hoisted the dinghy, I poured myself a glass of red wine, I stared at the horizon for a bit. Then I went to Matilda’s room and gave her a hug and let her cry a little. I talked to her a little about how her anger has real consequences and now we are in a pickle because of it. She promised to help me fix the dinghy. I told her that accidents happen. We hugged a little more.

Then I realized it was 7PM and we needed dinner. And I reminded myself that I have two competent kids who saw my stress and wanted to help. I poured more red wine, sliced some nice cheese, and sat at the table and directed them to the ingredients for chicken tacos. They pulled together chicken tacos with fixings (the chicken was leftover and just needed to be reheated). We finished watching Luca and we were all asleep before 10PM.

Kids in action making dinner.

Day 5

Dinghy repair day. I considered bringing the dinghy ashore to fix it on land, but the beach is very rocky and small. I thought about the foredeck, but I’d need to take the engine off first and then hoist it up over the lifelines and that’s definitely a two-adult job. My best option was to hoist the dinghy high in the davits and attempt the repair from the paddle board. In an anchorage with a lot of wake. Fun times.

Matilda, as expected, was my assistant. She read the instructions, helped get the supplies ready, and passed them to me. I had the patch done by 10AM before the pleasure boat wake added to the already bouncy ferry wake.

Repair made, I had some breakfast and coffee and we started school. In general, the kids get their schoolwork done with minimal fuss in a little over two hours. It seems like the new trend when Hans is gone is a lot of fuss and many many hours. Somehow we got the work done, and  we made some changes to our Friday curriculum (no extra project for this last “term” but instead the kids will do creative writing every Friday. Matilda is already doing creative writing for her English and Language Arts, but as long as they do math every day, read, and write, I’m happy.) Being stuck on the boat in an anchorage with tons of boat traffic and wake made for a long day, but thankfully the wake dies down at night and the anchorage is flat calm for sleeping.

Day 6: Christmas Cove to Charlotte Amalie

Matilda making her Saturday morning pannkakor.

Saturday morning, Matilda’s favorite day. The kids get one hour of tablet time when they wake up, pannkakor, and a movie at night. While they were on their tablets, I inflated the dinghy and held my breath. Ten minutes later and it was still holding air. Twenty minutes, still holding air. Whew. I made the pannkakor batter and, as is the new and wonderful tradition, Matilda made the pancakes after she was done with her tablet time.


Around mid-morning we were ready to leave Christmas Cove and head to Charlotte Amalie. With the dinghy inflated, it was time to spend some time in a town and actually interact with some other humans. Freja controlled the windlass remote while I motored forward. The anchor was up, I turned the boat around, and we headed due west. Within minutes we had the genoa up and the engine off. This part is easy. A straight downwind run with plenty of space and not much to avoid. We passed quite a few sailboats going east and I didn’t envy them—they were pounding straight into 2 meter waves and 20 knots of wind. No thank you.

Sailing to St. Thomas

We sailed into the harbor entrance, turned the engine on, and while Matilda kept watch, Freja eased the genoa and I pulled on the furling line until the genoa was neatly furled. We motored into the back of the anchorage and talked about possible anchoring spots. It’s a big harbor so there is plenty of space, but there are also tons of mooring balls. Boats on a mooring generally have a much shorter swinging radius than an anchored boat so we couldn’t anchor too close to a moored boat. Ideally I wanted to get close to the marina and have some protection from the surge coming in from the south, but it was 8-9 meters deep. I found a good spot in about 5 meters of water close to town and we dropped the anchor. With enough scope out we ended up too close to a mooring ball. We weighed anchor and tried again. This time we ended up in a good spot. Freja must have inherited Hans’s calm under pressure because the windlass remote kept losing its signal and instead of panicking, she calmly ran back to the mast and used the foot switch to continue to operate the windlass. At that point it was also blowing 25 knots, not the easiest of conditions.

Anchor down and I exhaled. The sailing is easy; it’s the tight quarter piloting of the boat, choosing a spot to anchor, knowing where to drop anchor to end up in that spot, avoiding moorings and boats on two anchors, etc. etc. And of course remembering to watch the depth so we don’t anchor in a spot that’s too deep or we don’t inadvertently run aground while anchoring!

After sitting on the back deck for a few hours and feeling confident with our spot and holding, we lowered the dinghy and went ashore. It turns out there was a little fair for Easter. The kids were thrilled. We waited until after 5PM so it was a little cooler out then we lined up at the ticket booth. We went on three rides (one of which stalled halfway through and I had visions of all of us plummeting to our certain deaths), ate popcorn and cotton candy, and Matilda bought silly string for herself and Freja. It was a fun, unexpected evening.

I ordered one mojito but apparently the waitress thought I needed two!

Days 7 & 8

Cruise ships are a daily sight in St. Thomas

It got rolly in the anchorage overnight. Ugh. The rolling continued and continued. Not fun, but we needed to stay here for a few days for a second round of covid vaccines and to meet with Customs and Border Patrol to get a cruising license for the boat since it is foreign-flagged. We had a fun surprise for Easter lunch by getting a visit from Malin and Chewy on s/v Leia. They had to take the ferry from Road Town to get their US travel visa sorted. Apparently they couldn’t sail on their boat and do the paperwork when they got here; they had to come in advance of the boat. So much hassle. But we were happy to spend the day together!

The rolling in the anchorage continued overnight and into Monday morning. The wind is out of the east so while our bow is pointed due east, the swell from the ocean is working its way in at the southern entrance so we are lying beam to swell. Not fun. The covid vaccines are scheduled for tomorrow afternoon so we just have one more night here. Just like at Christmas Cove, I’m astounded that there are so many permanently moored boats here with full-time residents aboard. I don’t know how they handle all the bouncing and rolling; it certainly makes me and the kids tired and also a little short-tempered.

Needless to say, we went ashore for school this morning and will likely do the same tomorrow.

Day 9

If all goes according to plan with our errands, today was our last day in Charlotte Amalie. Our school books were already in the backpacks, so after a quick breakfast we hopped in the dinghy to get our day started. We found an absolutely perfect cafe for school. The menu was varied and healthy and there was a gorgeous side garden with a big table nicely shaded by trees and a sail shade. Matilda admittedly got distracted by all the nooks and crannies to explore in the garden but we managed to get two solid hours of school work done before it was time to go to the health department for the covid vaccines.


We hopped on a Safari bus, the converted F350 pickups with open air bench seating in the beds, and traveled across town to the DOH. Each ride is $1 per person and it’s fast  and frequent. Fantastic public transit. The covid vaccines were straightforward and we were in and out in less than an hour.

The next stop was Customs and Border Patrol. Since PW is registered in Jersey, it’s a foreign flagged vessel and as such it needs permission to be in the US. It’s a good thing we stopped because it turns out that I needed to clear the boat out of St. Thomas before sailing to Puerto Rico. I completed the clearance paperwork and will get the cruising license when we check in to Puerto Rico. Port to port clearance is tedious, more so with covid, and seems even more bureaucratic and ridiculous when traveling from one US territory to the other, a mere 20 miles away. Still, we follow the rules because we don’t have a choice. At least the Customs official in Charlotte Amalie was very friendly and helpful as opposed to his counterpart in Cruz Bay.

Back on a Safari, back to the boat, and within minutes I had the engine on and we were weighing anchor. Good riddance to a rolly, wake and wind chop filled harbor. We motored west through the harbor with the goal of anchoring behind the airport on the far west end of the island. I forgot about the super skinny cut between Hassel Island and St. Thomas, Haulover Cut. Shudder. As we approached, Freja stuck her head up and said something like, “whoa. This looks really shallow and really narrow.” Yup. Heart beating fast and hands shaking a little, I steered PW through the cut with 25 knots of wind on our back. Fun times. We were in deep water in less than five minutes and my heart rate eventually subsided. It was a quick motor around the corner of the runway and we saw a beautiful sight: plenty of monohulls lying at anchor, bobbing gently in the water, nary a surge or swell or wake in sight. Hallelujah.

Day 10: Brewer's Bay

I woke up rested and refreshed after a calm night at anchor. Breakfast, coffee, a quick FaceTime with Hans, some emailing about boat insurance, school, and then laundry and general tidying up and housekeeping. We have quite a bit of catch-up to do after over a week in rather bouncy, bumpy anchorages. It’s been a serene day of getting odds and ends done with no stress and no frayed nerves or short tempers due to the rolling and bouncing at anchor.

Once I can tear the kids away from their ongoing projects, we’ll dinghy to the beach for a little later afternoon exploration before the usual dinner, reading, then bed.

Back on the boat after the beach and one of Freja's t-shirts accidentally went overboard. I quickly jumped in to retrieve it. Now I know that I can dive down 8 meters without a problem!

Day 11: Brewer's Bay to Culebra

Thursday, April 21, the day we sail the last leg of our trip to Culebra. After breakfast and making sure everything was stowed away, we turned the engine on and starting weighing anchor. That part is easy. I let the wind blow the bow off and then gave the engine some power and turned around so we were headed toward Culebra. Within minutes I had the Genoa unfurled and the engine off. It was gorgeous! A warm breeze, bright blue water, and the wind was pushing us along at 6.5 knots. The kids got comfortable with their books in the sport-a-seats on the back deck and I took turns standing at the helm and sitting on a cockpit seat reading. It was easy and smooth. Unfortunately it seems like the wind was mainly a land affect and as we got further from St. Thomas the wind got lighter. Our speed dropped to 4.5 knots and the kids started getting seasick so I turned the engine on and we motorsailed for the last hour to Culebra. Entering the harbor was easy because of the well-marked channel and we found a perfect spot to anchor in 3 meters of sand.

My all-star crew hard at work. Freja furling up the genoa as we enter Culebra's harbor.

Matilda easing the genoa sheet so Freja can furl the genoa.

Then it was time for bureaucracy. I reported our arrival on the Customs and Border Patrol’s ROAM app, it seemed to be working, until it wasn’t. The video chat with the officer never made a good connection, even after going ashore and finding wifi. Very frustrating, but thankfully the CBP officer was very friendly and patient. After an hour of calling back and forth and trying different connections, she gave us conditional permission to enter the US. Later in the day I received a phone call from the CBP officer who works at Culebra’s airport and he told me to go to his office at 10:30 the next morning to do the paperwork.

Back to the boat and the girls did a little bit of schoolwork even though it was after 5PM. We’re pushing hard to get through as much curriculum as possible before we sail to Bermuda in May so we can’t miss a day of school. The kids understand, even if they’re not happy about it!

Our friends on Omana arrived a little before sunset and we went over to reunite after 10 days of being apart. Lots of happy yelling and laughing and congratulations to the crew of Positive Waves. They’re flying back to Chicago in a week so we’ll spend a week together in Culebra, making the most of every minute, before we part ways.

Day 12: First Mate again!

And finally! The day we’ve been waiting for! Hans’s plane is scheduled to arrive at 8:30AM so we were off the boat by 8AM and at the airport by 8:20. It’s a real little island airport with one small runway that serves only 8-seater planes or smaller. We stand on one side of the chainlike fence right next to where the planes park after landing, cheering and shouting all kinds of information and questions as Hans steps off the plane. We met in the terminal and I happily passed the figurative boat keys back over to Hans, relieved and also proud that I delivered the boat and crew safely from Road Town to Culebra. Six anchorages, four visits to customs and immigration, six sailing trips, covid vaccines, 10 days of school, at least five times making water, a punctured and patched dinghy, 3 mooring balls, and lots of meals and snacks, and, of course, rum & tonics.