Saturday, April 30, 2016

Who Are These People?! The Sequel

Ken, Kaylee and Danielle from Aqua Vida
Several months ago I wrote a blog post titled Who Are These People?!, which attempted to establish an unscientific breakdown of the folks who are crazy enough to sell all their belongings, move aboard a boat, and then shove off to cross open water.

At the time, we had just arrived in the Bahamas and our view on the matter was necessarily informed by our geographic location. The gist of what I concluded then was that there are basically three groups -- 20-something cruisers, mostly male, who haven't yet established their own families or solid careers. The largest group is retired couples, a not inconsiderable number in their early 70s. And then us, the smallest subset, who decided to carve a chunk out of mid-life and do something completely different. Like the crew of Symbiosis, most of the 'tweeners have the expectation that shore-side careers (or at least jobs) will need to be resuscitated sometime in the not-too-distant future.

As we get farther south, the demographics appear to be shifting. What follows is my second unscientific take on the issue:

The dividing line is drawn through George Town, the cruising mecca of the Exumas. It is aptly nicknamed "Chicken Harbor" -- either it demarks the southern terminus of the journey or the gateway to points south and east along the "thorny path." I would guess that it is the former for about 90 percent of the Americans and Canadians there. For Europeans it's different; most arrived here from across the pond and many of them will make the return trip at some point.

Past George Town, cruisers such as Noi and I (firmly in the middle) become less rare. The youngest subset of "playboy cruisers" seems to have fallen off almost entirely, replaced instead by folks in their 30s and 40s, frequently with children aboard. The oldest subset is decidedly smaller. The older retirees (I say "older" because some in the middle category are on early retirement) are still around, but they tend to be in their early to mid-60s instead of 70s.

In short, the whole group is being squashed toward the middle. Here are a few brief profiles:

-- Lucas and Petra, aboard their Tayana 37 Salicious (same boat as ours) are in their early to mid 30s, with their almost 2-year-old, Oliver. Oliver has  taken to the boat like a baby orangutan. The family are from the Czech Republic. Lucas is a construction worker by trade. The couple flew to Florida, bought their boat, and set off for the Bahamas. They plan to keep the boat in St. Thomas (U.S.V.I.) for hurricane season.

-- Steve and Melissa, roughly 50, aboard a Beneteau-esque 50 Yarika, are nurses from Texas who have two teens aboard, Claire and Aran. They also plan to spend hurricane season in St. Thomas, where they will pick up some nursing work.

-- Aqua Vida, with Ken and Danielle and 7-year-old Kaylee are roughly in the same middle category as Steve, Melissa and us -- though they are on early retirement. Ken and Danielle, from Tallahassee, worked together before taking early retirement -- he as a civil engineer on water projects and she as a mathematician in the same office. They don't have a schedule per se, except the plan is for Kaylee to re-enter a regular school at some point. So, it's not open-ended for them. This year, like us, they will go to Grenada or Trinidad for hurricane season.

-- Frank and Diane, aboard their Caliber 39 Utopia, exemplify the "new normal" for the last group. They are in their 60s and made a decision to shove off immediately after retirement. Both from New York, he worked as a salesman for many years. They plan to put their boat on the hard in Antigua for hurricane season.

Diane and Frank from Utopia with Noi


Why has the cruising clique acquired a middle-aged bulge? I speculate:

The "playboy cruiser" group has time, but not too much time. They can justify taking perhaps a year off from getting their lives underway, but two or three years begins to look more like a misspent youth on a job application. So, for many of them, I think, it's one-year and out. That makes the Bahamas a practical destination, but not so much the eastern Caribbean.

The oldest subset is shrinking for the simple reason that cruising is more strenuous than many non-sailors realize. Aging bodies, some with creeping health problems (knees, hips, etc.) are starting to limit this group. Another factor: grandchildren. Grandparents want to be there. Cruising doesn't always make that easy.

As for the 30-somethings with small children, I am not entirely sure why this group is getting a bit larger, but that does seem to be the case.

What about the lone-wolf single-hander? They are still out there, but pretty rare. Dan aboard Vagabond, a Vagabond 47 ketch, is technically going it along, but he nearly always travels with pick-up crew.

The irony, for us at least, is that we started out thinking we were a rare breed (or perhaps a bit crazier than average in the estimation of our fellow cruisers), but as we keep going, we are finding that in fact we have become well, commonplace!



Tuesday, April 26, 2016

DR To PR

Parguera, Puerto Rico.
This will be a difficult blog post to write -- so much has happened since I last wrote here, which was prior to my computer going into an endless reboot cycle thanks to the latest Windows 10 update.

... After leaving Luperon in mid-March, we had a problem just a few miles offshore. A hose popped off our exhaust and sea water poured into the bilge. We turned around and headed back into port, while our friends and would-be traveling companions, S/V Neko, went on to Samana on the Dominican east coast.

The fix for the exhaust problem was relatively easy, but we had no desire to go back into the thick of it for what would likely be 30 hours of motoring without first stress-testing the repair. That meant losing a narrow weather window and remaining in Luperon for some time, which turned out to be another two weeks. This ended up giving us some more time to get to know the local people in town, as well as the marina folks.

When we came back into the harbor, another boat was already in our old slip at Puerto Blanco Marina. So, we decided to grab a mooring ball, like dozens of other boats there. The first and second mooring did not look good on close examination, but we finally found one that seemed OK (little did we know!). Many people dive on moorings to check them out. That's a great idea when it's possible. However, not only are we not great snorklers, but the visibility (the "viz" as divers say) in Luperon is not very good. In any case there are, shall we say, a number of "floaters" about.

A few days later our mooring broke free and Symbiosis drifted up like a lost puppy to the marina, where we happened to be having a drink and chatting with friends. We dropped everything, rushed to the dinghy and sped out to the boat. She had (miraculously) not hit anybody on her way in and made a soft landing in mud near the mangroves. With help from some fellow cruisers, we managed to get Symby off the bank and back out in the harbor. We had heard of other moorings breaking here, but had naively thought it wouldn't happen to us!

Rushing out to the boat after it snapped its mooring. Photo courtesy Kaylee Jones.

Our unexpected extended stay in Luperon allowed us to meet a whole new group of cruisers who came in on the weather window we originally had planned to leave on. Among them, Ken, Danielle and 7-year-old Kaylee Jones aboard S/V Aqua Vida and Frank and Diane on Utopia. Kaylee, who has been cruising with her family for several years now, is a very bright, boat-schooled young girl. She's very social and is obviously learning much through her family's adventures. New Yorkers Frank and Diane, on their Caliber 39, have been cruising for a few years now. We also got to better know Joyce, She and her partner, Sarah, lived aboard their boat in the harbor. Among other things, "Joy" was instrumental in helping start "Dogs & Cats of Luperon," a sort of SPCA for the area. Sadly, a few weeks after leaving Luperon, we learned that Joyce suddenly passed away,

When we departed for the second time for Samana, we were in a group of eight boats -- Aqua Vida, Yarika, Sailicious, Wandering Star, Vagabond, Pepper, Magic and Exit Stage Left. Of the eight boats, there were a number of incidents. One lost an anchor and rode that paid out unexpectedly just a few miles out of Luperon. Apparently, a windlass pawl had not been properly set. Another boat was experiencing overheating problems; two more had issues with dirty fuel. We (thankfully!) had no mechanical problems, though we very nearly hit something big at night, sailing at 6 knots. It was not on the charts and should not have been there! I caught a glimpse of a large white object resembling a buoy. I surmise that it broke loose from its mooring and was simply drifting about out there. Scary!

Leaving Luperon.

The next morning as we rounded Cape Samana, Humpback whales spouted off our bow. Aqua Vida, a few hundred feet in front of us, got the best show. I took photos from the bow pulpit:




The Luperon to Samana run is one of the thorniest of thorns on the thorny path (along with crossing the Mona Passage from Hispaniola to Puerto Rico). Even so, we got the weather window right and all went well. It was lots of motoring/motor-sailing, but we did have about 6 hours of very nice night sailing.

Once in Samana, we stayed at a marina for a few days and then crossed over to Bahia de San Lorenzo at Parque Nacional Los Haitises. Beautiful spot. The limestone formations remind me of the west coast of Thailand.


Bahia de San Lorenzo.

Exploring the Mangrove River at Los Haitises National Park.

The crossing from DR to PR (via the Mona Passage) turned out also to be uneventful. We did have a very nice 12-hour sail from the time we left Samana in the evening until daybreak, Also caught a good-sized Skipjack Tuna -- probably our best fish to date. We finally arrived the next evening about 10 p.m. for a 28-hour run from Samana to Boqueron.

Tuna sushi

For all the hassles we expected to experience with customs and immigration in the DR, most never materialized. Although different cruisers had different experiences, most encountered no problems or demands for "tips." One individual in Luperon demanded a tip and a Czech couple were charged for an interpreter in Samana even though they speak perfect English. For us, the bigger headache was in our home country. Puerto Rico ended up taking a whole afternoon because of Homeland Security red tape!

Currently we are enjoying ourselves in PR. We visited a coffee plantation, did some shopping and re-provisioning and are, generally, taking it easy.

Playa Salinas, PR. Nice anchorage.

Isla Caja de Muertos (Coffin Island), Puerto Rico.


Symbiosis and Utopia anchored at Coffin Island.