25 May
Now I am in Curaçao, alive, safe, well nourished but baffled out of my tree! Many speak English, but Dutch is official and Papiamento is the local language, a mixture of Spanish, Portuguese, and Dutch. So I have to bring in English. I'm in the Polite (police) - Harbor Polite to check in Immigration. It is separate by miles from customs, and my hearing problem got me a ride complete with jib in a police van to the Harbor Police HQ. Forms to fill out, one for the boat, one for me (and all passengers) almost the same one as customs. The only really important thing is firearms and dope. Everybody needs a record, and everybody is ready for complications. Very polite and friendly. They are now trying to find me a sailmaker to "lop for schoothoek", Dutch for fix the clew of my jib. Apparently none. Upholsterer. Loaded me, jib and bag into Police van and drove me 5 or 6 miles to a slightly down at the heels upholstery and pool room. Nice guy, no English. The cop - Chief of Police apparently, and his driver translating - in a very classy GMC van, sometimes high on an elevated highway with a grand view of the old city. New refineries, shipping in a great harbor. Like Bonaire, it's been raining off and on for a week, so there's a lot of green that is usually brown.26 May 1900OK, deal with upholsterer seems to be complete. Police left me off at bus stop. Hungry. Two beers & two sandwiches at a stand. (Keep the tapeworm happy.) Bus here now 5 or 6 minutes to wait. Willemstadt has a hearing aid outfit, but no sailmaker. How can that be? Police never heard of a yacht club. Maybe I travel in the wrong circles, but I couldn't have found as nice a police dept in all of USA.
Things are tough all over. I have no fresh meat. That's the only thing I can think of that I can complain about! I'm dining on boat made hash - lots of onions in. I can't seem to get it to crust up, but it's pretty damn good anyway, with rum and lime on top of a couple of beers with the dive shop gang - they ran out and were delightfully surprised that I had cold ones at the ready.27 May, mid morningToday has been one victory after another. SatNav - I've been feeding it the wrong info. My own fault for not rereading the directions, which were loosely translated from the original Tibetan by a Spanish tree surgeon. No fix yet, but it should perk up and sing a new song presently. No jib either. And the patch on the dink that was given to Jan & Carleton (complete with holes) is scheduled for tomorrow - But it LOOKS good. Issue has been very much in doubt up to now. And things are getting done too. Part of the jib's terrific catenary turns out to be loosening of the turnbuckle at the bob stay. Fixed.
Sunday may be very busy here. My hosts had a birthday party for one of the guests (German) last night, and they were all pretty well smashed, so relatively little diving today. One of the delights here is being accepted. Period. I'm loved for no reason more than being human and here. Many anomalies still, but there's hope and cheer and I'm glad to be alive and sailing. So ends a great day.
A Sunday of many kids all over the boat, delightful chatter in Papiamento, persiflage, teasing and splashing. They are happy kids, fat and thin, all ages and sizes, youngest probably 6 or 7, swimming, catching minnows, paddling the sailing surf boards around (without masts). I wish I had their energy and alacrity. Mother and father here in loose supervision, apparently two or more families. Dive shop pays no attention to them, but is happy to let them use the surfboards.28 May, 1007Dinghy got its umpteenth repatch this am and it looks good after a couple of hours. Not so the SatNav, which took instructions yesterday but won't accept some of them today. Last fix was at sea after turning back from Bonaire-to-PR. On t'other hand, I've got a lot of bottom cleaned, and dink patched. Will set up a new spare halyard and keep up the drying out. No loss.
Coral Cliff Hotel Resort and Beach Club is a typical tourist ripoff outfit. Mike's end of it - he's dive master - is the water sports, which he runs quite independently from the hotel. They must have some piece of his facility. He's the boss here, friendly, laid back, comfortable with employees and their families, and well respected by divers in general. Very good equipment it looks to me. 2 loads of divers go out every day. There are dropoffs. My Jan says there's nothing left here. Mike says you have to know; when you do it's better than Bonaire, and no rules. He's been most kind and generous to me, not that I've cost him anything, but I use a lot of facilities and he makes me welcome. His second is Helgar. a German pro sailor, teacher, navigator, sailboard enthusiast. Very capable, and even more friendly and cooperative than Mike. He spent most of the pm on my SatNav, figuring it out. There are tests for each service it performs, and he wormed his way through the book to find them. Not the Ukit, not the this, not the that. So it has to be antenna or antenna ground or preamp, or any one of the 16 different connectors. Tested one by one, he found a short in the main wire. Will bypass it by mounting the preamp beside pretester. But it's doing something, and Helgar thinks it's now OK with a new connection and the preamp up on the oak "SatNav tree". Sure enough, at 2332 I have a 4-arrow fix making up, three already in. Say a little prayer to the Electrics God! Yup, 4 arrows. 2340 "computing fix" and scanning free. 2322 fix made OK 24.46, 121620, 690751. Marvelous! Now to reinstall the rig. It's lying all over the wharf at this point and Mike won't like it when I go with his wharf in tow!
I have a second coffee beside me and everything I know about WORKS! Not quite ready to go. Sail is in process. SatNav making fixes on Mike's wharf. I still need to get it in the air. Rene has my hearing aids, 3 of them that do not work. Some hull cleaning to do. Going into town presently for money, mail, and a new hearing aid ear piece.29 MayWait! SatNav just turned off! Why? Just turned on again after losing a fix - didn't need the fix. Absolutely maddening to find that the solid state electronics have such liquid performances. So this fix says that I'm at Mike's wharf, that it was 8:12 pm when it recorded the satellite. So I'm afloat. No jib yet. It's promised for tomorrow evening. Two divers came back to the wharf with 5 lobsters a few minutes after I got here from Willemstadt, and I think I've been invited to dinner at Mike's tomorrow. Never quite sure with my hearing, though it's very much better with a Philips machine that I got today, along with finally getting mail off and bananas in the nick of running out.
Now that I've made 2 round trips to Willemstadt, I'm an expert on this Is. It's pretty flat from ashore, but all cliffs from the sea. Some vast new housing developments, cheek by jowl with little boxes - almost sure to be a horrible slum in a few years. The old buildings in town are often beautifully restored, sometimes just beautifully old. Now and again rather awfully-modern1zed. Most new building is good, leans on traditional quite often, especially the lesser buildings and individual houses. All the new buildings are in town of course, except for a coupla three churches and the cluster of box dwellings. Government support for new construction is oscillating and not reliable. Money is allotted often, but seldom shows up green and ready. Many projects get funded, started, and abandoned. Gossip of course. I have no real knowledge. Enough junk, old cars, and shanty construction to know for sure that you're on a Caribbean Is. GOATS too, tame and wild, defoliating a hard scrabble land with little enough green after weeks of rain.
The cliffs along both NE and SW facing shore are bold - a brief shallow, often only a few feet, and then a dropoff to 100 or more feet, sometimes 6 or 8 hundred quite near shore. diving used to be marvelous everywhere here, black coral, lobster, seafans, all the goodies. Pick, pick, pick and it's going fast. All I see is water. Mike caters to Euro divers. US are too seasonal for him. He advertises in European dive magazines. Being a Dutchman, he speaks all of the Western European tongues (Mrs. Mike too) as well as English and papiamento. Speaking papiamento is not revered (says an educated local, who sat and beered with me while his very attractive kids raised merry hell about the waterfront). Less than 100,000 speak it. There is no literature, history, medicine or poetry. How can it survive? "WE" have to speak with the other fellows' tongue to survive. (Cost me 3 beers and well worth it!)
Now it's 4:30 Tuesday. An hour and a half and my jib is due to arrive. No one believes it will come. I even have an invite to dinner tomorrow! That may be Mike's idea of a joke. I've got through my list of things to be done, cleaned the boat above and below. All I need is a good sound jib!30 May, 1600
Anchor coming up, engine started, under way from St. Marta Bay. Last fix in Curaçao 1602, 12 degrees 16.05, 69 degrees 07.48. 1615 under way, 2 reefs in main, jib rolled 2 turns, small mizzen. 1826 Fix 12.21, 69.9.31 May, 0130
Last fix was 1212, an hour and a half ago. Keep hoping that the bastids are not really trying. We are starting a bit erratically, but mostly 25-30, sometimes even better. Moderate speed, plenty of motion. Moon packed up, but enough light. No complaint, hang on for a week!1 June, Midnight, 00010710 - Wind has reduced a bit through the night. Plenty of sea though. We hop and skip with as much up and down as forward. OK, we are going forward, not fast, but pretty steadily, reefed down all the way short of storm sails, and making a little better than required point. Had me worried at first. We seemed to be hard on the wind and still not pointing high enough to make Puerto Rico. No jazz either. The late night with Andy has put me down -dopey. Lots of sleep last night in short pieces and I'm still tired. OK, no great call on me now, check up all the time. Snooze whenever. Eat now and again. That's the schedule for 360 miles, and I've done 40 or 50. Next job is to true off and scribble chart to keep track. 0900 - SatNav out. Power loss?
1826 - No SatNav. Hours checking through everything, power to the feed wire, but apparently not into the machine. Ground OK, One more thing to check - not today though that's the joints of Mr. sitex's wire and mine. They look OK, worth redoing those joints since I have ample wire. Another gorgeous day spent crawling and stooping, tying myself in knots to get at all the impossible places.
SatNav OUT, and an afternoon shot made before the sun was too low is crazy - 61 mile discrepancy. Must be in the shot. Plenty of time to straighten that out. Midday sun shots are unlikely in this time and latitude because the sun is about exactly o'head. I should be able to get midmorning and midafternoon shots. Cross though, 1840 and the sun is near down. Very little sail up, and moving pretty well on course. Self steering about 90%. Now for a beer and supper.
Wind and sea have picked up a bit. We are heading up about as well as we can and not quite making our point because of a 1-knot cross current. Moving well, 3 kn+, but wet drip on beds. I've sealed the big windows with silicone and that's much better, if not perfect. Continued frequent drip over my bed. Wet bed I've learned to live with, but the drip comes just as I nod off! Clothes are no help, in fact quite a difficulty. I got sloshed with a green oddball wave before daylight this morning, and haven't worn any clothes since.End of 2 June0510 - Mast went over at 2 am. I was asleep. Woke. Black night. Could do Nothing. Up now and coffeed, light enough presently. Can I save the mast? Terribly quick motion. Move when peace comes. Location of loss, 100 miles north and east of Curaçao.
I'm secure at sea, within sight of South America. Never expected to get there on purpose, let alone by accident! Too tired to write, but must say to all that today has been a lot of soul searching, along with horizon searching. Is there a Bonaire or a Curaçao? Have I any Biz sailing a boat on the public ocean? Doubts about my location Good supper after days of sandwiches and rough water and very salty. That's what this old man is made of.3 Jun
A is for Aruba! and I'm there. Leaving Curaçao was kind of nice. The diving party lined up and cheered as I left through the narrow pass into the sea, jib and jigger in the fresh trades, double-reefed main up outside as I jogged along and then swung into my gallop downwind along the coast. No sea on the leeward side of Curaçao and plenty of wind from the fresh trades. Charged along and ran out of protection of the land mass in an hour and a half. Sea is real. Caribbean makes up for its littleness by being STEEP. And I suppose this is the aftermath of the Lenten winds. Out into the ocean and we appeared to be making it nicely, till the mast broke, right off at the deck. I've been there, a disaster of major consequence, pressure exists and effort required, but far from life and death situation. So do it, cut salvage. Boom and gaff inboard. A thousand loose lines to salvage, mostly cut free. A knife on a string around my neck, open too. Goosenecks unbolted but with real difficulty of reach and position. Every wave moves this mass of sails and spares back and forth across the rail. There's enough of the inner stay left to keep the heavy end of the mast across the deck. How could it survive? No mind, keep clearing, keep salvaging. Moon bright for a while, but still a lot to do when it quit. Mostly cut, haul in and stow. Back and forth along the deck a zigzag journey with far less to hang onto than I'd like, and the great jagged stump of the mast sawing back and forth against the bulwark, the lifelines, the propane tanks, sometimes grinding the plow anchor back and forth across the deck. At best it's slow work, and darkness slows it down some more. Main sail and its gaff and boom finally separate, tied in a roll, sloppy but safe aboard. A little effort on the jib proved it to be useless. I'd have had to go out to the end of it, now submerged a couple of feet. Roller furler housing bent badly - it won't roll - and the forestay sheared off above the turnbuckle while I was laboring at the wrack, couple of lines to keep the butt aboard. Then let it all go after chasing the lazy jacks through and roughly coiled.Bringing the mast aboard could have saved a lot of its hardware. Thinking back now, I know there were possibles. Then it didn't seem so. Cut it loose and back off. Easier said than done, but done after a bit. Stanchions bent, lifelines snagged up to crud. Mast stump a cactus of spinters stlcking up from the mlddle of the foredeck. And NOTHING to hang onto anymore. Even the standing lifeline very loose and sloppy, t'other flat on the deck. Much motion of the seas, stronger of course at the bows than amidships, and irregular, just to happy it down a little. OK, last line cut, engine running. Back away from the spar, jib, one shroud, all my radio antennas (including Sat Nav) - in fact my whole propulsive system. (The mizzen is mostly a balancing and steering sail.) Free. Coupla minutes and the mast is only a "was".
Now what? Lay out the course and drift from Curaçao. About 110 miles - reverse and allow for drift. At least I have friends at Coral Cliff. Rather indefinite info of exact drift. Pilot says there's a knot of westerly drift. Wind easterly 18-20. 130° to go to the point of Curaçao. 180°more or less to Aruba. All power now. Aruba is better. OK, go.
Long hard grind under power. Slept a few hours after a few minutes to clear the wrack. South magnetic should do it. Did. But a day long journey, starting at daylight and lasting till almost daylight, when I sighted the northeast point. No large scale chart. No exact information. Closed slowly on lights. ROCKS is all I could find. Backed off a couple of miles and had a nap. Daylight will be better.
Woke up with a crash. I hadn't allowed enough for drift and I was into the ROX. Engine right off. Backed my bowsprit out. More close aboard astern. I'm in a narrow pointy hole in the Rox, crosswise. Seas coming in are not vicious but big, coupla feet of vertical motion of the boat in each one, and I keep touching bow, stern, or bottom. Finally got myself turned a little by pushing hard on a rock that was bold with my rudder hard over, and then I could back out. Out. But backed into an unseen rock with another sickening crunch, and hit it twice (or 3 or 4 times) more before I got free of it. All in the pitch black of course.
And now the response of my steering was strange - fiddle faddle. I got out of the hole with much reversing and forward. Good response from the Volvo. Mizzen down by now. It came down in a hurry when I was feeling it pushing back into the rox. Up again as soon as I was clear, to help steer. Down again as a breaking reef appeared in front of me, clearly visible by phosphorescence. Back and forth trying to avoid it. Finally backed around it, but not without scraping and banging. BACK. BACK. BACK. Get out of there. More breakers too. Fiddle back and forth with very little steering. Mizzen up and down to get direction. Got her turned and past the reef. Out. Clear? OK, still a few breakers, forward now, and very poor response from tiller, some though. Loose. Once free I put the llght on it. Sure enough, a vertical splinter of wood connecting rudder and tiller. Directional control only from sail. Ample power reverse or forward from engine got me off shore. Took a far lead, 4 or 5 miles and sacked out exhausted about 2 am. Up every few minutes to check drift. And we were now drifting towards a great tanker anchored off shore. Safe. Sleep quick before something else happens.
No idea how long I slept. Daylight at least. High-rlse buildings above the horizon. But no steering! Morning got me started on a jury rudder, but it would take all day. Wind and current carrying me away and past before long. OK. Get going. Made a jib out of one of the balancing jibs stretched almost horizontally from bow to mizzen head. (Bowsprit longside, had to be cut away.) Worked, sort of. So fiddle the sails to point towards land and go, power of course, fairly slowly because full bore would overpower my rather delicate steering. Often, even so, thrown off by an unusual wave. Cut the power till the slack mizzen and slight jib get us headed right. Then go, giving it more power very gradually as long as it would maintain course. Jib pinned down to starboard 1/2 foot aft of bowsprit and tacked out to the rail at 3' forward of mizzen (except it was hanging luff up) drawn up tight to mizzen head. Some strange kind of a sailing vessel! Mizzen at full luff mostly, tightened the sheet now and again when I wanted to head up a bit. Could steer at medium power this way, at least in this direction. Not fast. 3 1/2 hours sailing and motoring and waiting.
At 10:30 I got to the shelter of a rocky point, a gently shelving beach. No boats. Swimmers inshore. Worked my way into 10' of water and dropped 2 hooks. Almost noon. Shut down all. Eat. Find and blow up the dink. Long hard row up to the beach against the wind and angry little 2' breaking waves. Called immigration at the first occupied house. Told to wait at the beach. (Left eggs cooking, tough luck, but clear order to wait on the beach.) Waited. Slept like a log under grass parasol shade (intended for swimmers). Customs & immigration cops woke me. First a bit hostile, but warmed up quickly. I guess because they first thought I was smuggling goods or people. Questions, papers, passport, come with us. Deflated the dink and put it in the trunk. Ride in back with a cross handcuffed prisoner over to station house. Boat will be fetched by a tug from Oranjestad. No point in argument. Not even much basis for it. I could hardly enter that harbor with the paucity of control that I had. So go in good humor - lost my good hat though.
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