A Sail of Two Idiots (58 page)

GENERAL STUFF.
Most mornings were spent checking weather, with a lot of boaters listening to their favorite forecasters on their SSBs. We used the Internet. Then if the harbor had a cruisers' net on the VHF, we'd listen in at designated times in the morning. Cruising guides usually alert you to the “net,” as will other cruisers. The broadcast was usually on Channel 68. From the cruisers' net we'd learn from other boaters or businesses what might be happening onshore. We'd hear about any interesting menus, celebrations, sales, museums, and diving excursions. Anyone who was flying or sailing back to the States would announce that they'd take any mail and drop it off at a mailbox once they made landfall. If we were looking for boat parts, we'd make an announcement to see if anyone had what we were looking for or could bring it back from the States for us. We'd also get the weather, sailing conditions, and news—whatever the announcer thought was important. The net could last 5 minutes or 45 minutes.

Then it was time to eat and get on with our day. We'd try to fix at least one or two boat things a day so those chores didn't build up, but then we'd try to fit in something fun too. If we could get involved in local events, such as a softball game,
or expat-coordinated events, such as a tour or poker game, we did. Evenings were spent either socializing or winding down while watching the sunset. Most boaters went to sleep embarrassingly early—including us.

Of course, everyday things take longer on a boat: doing laundry, grocery shopping, and getting water and fuel. You could lose half a day just doing those activities. Boredom is rarely a problem.

EXERCISE.
I found exercising difficult. Obviously, boat chores kept us in some semblance of shape, as did swimming, snorkeling, and hiking when we could. But not all anchorages were clean enough for swimming or safe enough for walking. That led to a lot of drinking, eating, playing games … and gaining weight.

KEEPING IN TOUCH WITH FAMILY.
Many boaters have blogs. We also found it to be the easiest way to keep friends and family informed. They're free and fairly easy to create. Instead of sending e-mails, you can just post the latest on your blog, upload pictures, and have readers comment back on the same blog. You can even permission-protect your blog so that only the people you approve have access to it. Why would you want to do that? Because you never know who else might be reading it.

DOGS VS. CATS.
It was easier to enter an island with a cat than with a dog (because the assumption was you wouldn't take a cat to shore). Dogs were more complicated. You'll likely take a dog to a beach for a walk. Be sure your papers are in order, and have them with you. We heard of people's dogs shot on sight by remorseless officials because documents were not immediately produced to validate the dog's legality. Most people had no problems, but be vigilant (and legal). Pet food wasn't hard to find, but vets were. Just as it's important to have a decent first-aid kit for humans, it's important to have one for pets, including a kit to put the animal down if necessary. Many people travel with pets—more than half I'd say.

KITTY LITTER.
On land or off, kitty litter stinks (or can). If you plan to use kitty litter, make sure it's biodegradable so you can dump it in the ocean (or in some way not overtax local landfills). Note that dumping anything (including biodegradable items such as food and litter) is illegal within 3 miles of shore, so keep an old bucket with a lid (such as a paint bucket or even an empty kitty litter container) and scoop the dirty stuff in there until you get offshore. Have lots of kitty litter (it's readily available, but be prepared to pay a lot for it.) Local sand works but usually contains fleas. We kept our covered box outside under the bimini (rear porch) whenever we could; if you don't have that option, keep the litter box really clean or you will have a stinky boat. And know that the stuff sticks to all surfaces, including your bed. Our cat learned how to use Astroturf (fake grass mat) in two days; it saved us a big hassle, but it had to be cleaned twice a day, including right after a “big” performance. Good thing we spent lots of time on the boat. Hans and Kristen, on
Whisper,
used two trays. The top one had rocks in it and the lower one collected urine. Pee dripped to the bottom; poop stayed on the top. They would dunk the whole setup in salt water, bring it back up, soak it with bleach, and empty it. Repeat. A pain? Yes, but we all thought it was worth it.

INSURANCE.
You might require access to good care because of your medical history. You might just be a klutz. Some people may be willing to take more chances than others. When we realized that health insurance would be about $5,000 a year for the two of us, with a high deductible, we decided to take our chances. We were healthy and young, so we figured we'd press our luck. Michael did go to a doctor or a hospital a couple of times, but neither visit cost over $100. We did have life insurance though.

FIRST AID.
What we didn't have was a decent first-aid kit. That was not smart. We had a cheap kit with ace bandages and Band-Aids but no antibiotics or painkillers. I highly recommend that you buy a well-stocked kit, especially if you plan to be out there awhile.

Even if you don't know how to use the stuff in your kit, chances are that someone else will. Nurses seem to be common in crews on the high seas.

RELATIONSHIPS.
If you're fighting now, you'll be fighting on a boat. A rocky relationship between a parent and child might get better once the youngster is away from outside influences; but whatever is ailing you and an adult partner is unlikely to be resolved the way you hoped on a boat. The liveaboard lifestyle is a
microcosm, and anything that bugged you before is likely to be magnified once you're at sea. You'll both be insecure at times, and it's important not to turn on each other during those episodes. Two big egos can be problematic as well.

If you're both up for the adventure and both know what you're getting into and who's going to do what (most of the time), you're a lot more likely to come out of this experience happy and whole.

There. What are you staring at? What more can I tell you? Get out there already!

S
o how did we come to choose St. Kitts as The One? Well, by deciding that the others weren't. Here's what we liked and didn't like about each island we visited.

The Bahamas will always have a special place in our hearts, particularly because we grew into ourselves as sailors there. As tough as things were, the Bahamas turned out to be a good training ground. We learned to sail in the worst conditions—winds were usually over 25 to 30 knots; we had to avoid squalls; we had to learn to read the water so as to not ground out or hit reefs; we got good at predicting weather and how our boat (and we) would act in certain sea conditions; we learned tides; and I got good at using our laptop/chartplotter to set courses. We also tweaked our online sea-condition sources and started honing our skills at using that information to allow for a safe and relatively comfortable trip. We slowly began to understand swells and upcoming weather conditions and gained faith in the charts, the anchor, and our own abilities. It does come in time.

Don't let anyone fool you. If I had a dime for every time someone told me that the conditions we experienced in the Bahamas were “abnormal,” I wouldn't have had to sell my car. It's actually so normal that a lot of boaters avoid the Bahamas altogether when they head south from the States. They join the Cruising Rally Association's Caribbean 1500. This gets everyone from Virginia to Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands, quickly (about eight days), hopefully ahead of all those cold fronts. If you don't have a lot of time, it's better than getting “trapped” in the Bahamas. Plus, if you're new to offshore sailing, it's nice to have a little hand-holding.

The good news about the Bahamas? The islands have incredible multihued waters and beautiful beaches. The island chain is one of the few places in the Caribbean (well, close to the Caribbean) that you could truly be by yourself on a deserted island. Over and over again. The Bahamas are safe. You don't have
to lock up your boat or your dinghy. You can snorkel and not worry about your stuff on the beach (with the exception of Nassau, which we avoided). The bad? We thought it was too cold and too expensive, and the islanders, for the most part, were too unfriendly.

Of the Turks and Caicos islands we saw (Provo, East Caicos, Grand Turk, and Big Sand Cay), we loved Provo the most. There were fireworks on the resort beaches most nights; a great wine bar overlooking the sea; the Tiki Hut marina bar, with lots of vegetarian options; a great happy hour at The Shark Bite; a worthy hitchhike to Horse Eye Jacks, a great restaurant in Blue Hills; rugby on the beach; stores to buy clothes; decent-priced groceries; a phenomenal beach; great snorkeling; clear water; and a strong Internet signal for watching TV on our laptop. After asking around, we discovered that more than half the island's residents were expats (foreigners), many working, so it was clearly an island with potential. Provo was an island we considered living on.

What we saw of Grand Turk made us realize that the island was too quiet and seemed to cater solely to cruise-ship passengers. It didn't seem like a place to live. We couldn't speak for the other islands that make up the Turks and Caicos archipelago, but we heard that they were populated mainly by people who commuted to Provo or Grand Turk for jobs and shopping/socializing outings. We'd rather just live on Provo.

Many cruisers chose to move ashore permanently, liking not only the Dominican Republic (on Hispaniola), but Luperon. Many lots were for sale with views of the ocean for a fraction of what you'd pay elsewhere. Those relocating would have boaters around them (active and former) and laid-back Dominicans, so would enjoy the vibe that they were likely looking for when they left home. The town is ever-growing with gringos and their tastes, which is both good and bad, I suppose. Restaurant choices are increasing, as is entertainment.

The Dominican people were great, but we decided against the Dominican Republic as a possible home for several reasons. The island was too big and too hectic (roads, cities). Salaries might have been a problem, and we weren't happy about the rampant bribery.

You'll note we didn't visit Haiti to the west. Our boat insurance wouldn't cover a stop there, and people who went via bus said that anarchy ruled at the border. We decided to pass and were worried that Haiti's problems might someday become the Dominican Republic's.

Puerto Rico was an obvious fallback as a place to live, since we were citizens there and wouldn't need tourist or work permits to stay. But Puerto Rico wasn't our first choice. It was too big, too hectic, too car oriented, and had too much fast food and too much concrete. Language was a problem here and there, as well. However, if we “had” to, we would appreciate the hiking in El Yunque rain forest, exploring all the little towns in “the country,” choosing a different beach every weekend, sitting in the street cafes in Old San Juan, getting to the States easily, and having access to stuff. Yes, it would be doable.

Culebra was quaint and very much our style. We liked the fact that we could easily catch a ferry to the main island of Puerto Rico and provision cheaply, but then come back “home” and relish the serenity of the small island. The small size meant that work could be an issue though. Vieques was bigger and developing a tourism industry, but since we didn't visit the island, we weren't sure of its feasibility.

The U.S. Virgin Islands (USVIs) were a no before we even went there, and our minds didn't change after the trip. I had done a lot of research on the USVIs before we bought the boat, thinking we could just move there. The more research I did, though, the more I felt that St. Thomas had too many racial and financial issues, was too reliant on the tourism industry, and didn't have enough affordable housing nor any that allowed pets. Once we got there, I thought the place was too crowded and too loud, and I didn't feel safe (or wanted) there.

We didn't get to St. Croix (about 45 miles south of St. Thomas), but it didn't sound much better.

St. John would be too expensive, and people already living there gave newcomers a hard time. Finding jobs on the island sounded impossible, and living quarters even more so. Out.

The BVIs were nice but too small. We had heard that trying to get a work permit in the BVIs, assuming you could
find
work, would be near impossible. I was happy to be able to just spend time with family while we were there.