Slowing all the way down

After pushing to get from Sweden to the Canary Islands in five months followed by a transatlantic passage, when we arrived in the Caribbean we were ready to slow down. So after some boat work in Grenada, we sailed from the Grenadines to St. Croix and spent almost six weeks between St. Croix, St. Thomas, and the BVI. We didn’t cover much distance in that time, but we did move and anchor nearly every day and the longest we stayed in one place was three nights. When we arrived in Culebra, one of the Spanish Virgin Islands and part of Puerto Rico, we were ready to slow down even more.

Culebra is a fantastic place to cruise without really going anywhere. While the island doesn’t have the stunning geography of the USVI or BVI—it’s more arid, so instead of lush patches of greenery it’s more desert-like with plenty of cacti—the water color, clarity, and underwater life fully compensate for the above sea level beauty. Not to mention the laid back pace of the island, a relaxed tourism infrastructure, and absolutely flat calm, mill pond anchorages.

Waiting for our dinghy taxi.

Omana + Positive Waves

We’ve been in Culebra for a little over two weeks, the first two of which we spent with our friends on s/v Omana. Matilda’s days quickly fell into a rhythm of breakfast and school on PW and the rest of the day on Omana, begrudgingly returning home at bedtime. Freja joined most days but also took advantage of being a temporary only child. We usually headed over to Omana to share a few sundowners or dinner and the kids often entertained us with a play they’d been working on all day. Freja, as the oldest and befitting her personality, relished the role of director, playwright, and usually lead actor, and the others were happy to follow along.

Intense shell research and trading.

Celebrating Hans's birthday.

The last of many plays on the foredeck of Omana: "The Kingdom of Gold."

This kind of cooperative boat-life, family-life, kid-play actually happened near daily for the entire six weeks we spent with Omana. It was incredible to see how well the kids clicked and cooperated and compromised, especially since they ranged in ages from 4-11. And the creativity! This longer-term friendship we made with Omana affirmed for Hans and I that our kids are getting all the socialization they need, just not in the typical setting of a similarly aged peer group at school Monday-Friday. It was especially sweet to see Matilda find a peer who both challenged and encouraged her. Not to mention all the lively conversations and support we adults shared. It was a truly special time and we’ve been missing Omana since they left a week ago.

Boat work

So how do we fill the void? Boat work of course! We’re prepping the boat for our next offshore jaunt, San Juan to Bermuda to Maine, approximately 1500nm split into two legs. PW is pretty ship shape but we have a few jobs to do before heading offshore, mainly maintenance. Oil changes, checking and tightening the rig, checking bilge pumps, etc. Hans just finished the most onerous job of all: paint touch-up.

A painted metal hull is a recipe for ongoing maintenance. Our hull is bare aluminum but the deck is painted white. It looks good, and certainly nicer than a bare hull and bare deck, but it is common/expected/unavoidable to get some water under the paint where the painted deck meets the hull. Boreal painted a strip of varnish over that seam, but as soon as it chips or fades away, the paint is susceptible. A little bubbling here and there is okay, but it will eventually turn into a bigger problem. The work involves sanding down the line where paint and aluminum meet, repainting and revarnishing. Of course we want to keep a nice straight edge so it also involves a lot of taping and accuracy. Hans took his first stab at this job in Grenada while we were getting the additional solar added, but we didn’t realize that the yard was also sand blasting another boat at the same time. Within hours of applying the first coat it was covered with fine grains of sand. Frustrating, to say the least. Hans took advantage of the flat anchorages of Culebra by spending four days prepping, sanding, prepping, painting, and varnishing while we were at a reef anchorage. The only land nearby was little mangrove islands with little to no dust. While Hans painted, I pulled out the sewing machine and sewed an awning that attaches to the boom and goes out to both lifelines. It provides beautiful shade for the doghouse and most of the main cabin, but we still need to find some kind of batten to stabilize it and give it strength.

Conch Island Crew

And while we did boat work for days, the kids rushed through school every morning so they could paddle over to “their” island, Conch Island. The last time we were at the same anchorage, they spent a couple hours there and Freja drew a map and they made plans for their return. After school every morning, they packed up a bag with towels, swimsuits, water bottles, knives, binoculars, and the handheld VHF radio; they paddled to “ship's cove” on the paddle board, and spent upwards of six hours ashore. They ate the fruit from a massive prickly pear bush, dried seaweed, whittled sticks into swords, and generally turned into wild island kids. When they needed something they'd call us on the VHF: "Positive Waves, Positive Waves, this is Conch Island Crew, over."

Conch Island from above.

Maxing and relaxing off PW

Keeping a lookout for pirates.

Culebrita & golf cart excursion

Culebrita's lighthouse with Omana and PW in the background

After a few days, our friends on Leia arrived from the USVI and brought us some eggs and a few other provisions so we could stay a couple more days. We sailed to Culebrita one day and hiked up to the crumbling lighthouse. We can definitely feel a change in the weather—it’s getting much hotter out and the wind is calmer and more from the southeast. It’s getting time to sail north!

an abandoned army tank on Culebrita, with trees growing from the middle of the tank.

We spent one last day in town where we rented a golf cart for a day to explore the island. Culebra is a neat little island with some massive houses, lots of regular sized concrete houses, a big new school, a few restaurants, and a few little grocery stores. There’s nothing fancy here and there are surely more chickens than people. After all the beach bars, big charter catamarans, loud music, and go fast boats of the BVI, Culebra has been a welcome change.

Our favorite anchorage, as seen from land.
Probably one of the most scenic swingset locations I've ever seen.

An epic sandball fight on Flamenco Beach.
(That's all sargassum seaweed in the foreground, yech.)

Can I have a side of sugar with my sugar please?

We’re moving on to San Juan next where the kids and I will spend a week while Hans goes to work again. We’ll finish our last week of daily M-F school in San Juan, provision and ready the boat for offshore sailing because as soon as Hans comes back we’ll look for our first weather window to Bermuda.