Extended log of Julia B: More details on many subjects

These are descriptions in more detail of events and location referred to briefly in the main log table. If you got here by clicking on a link in the Ship's Log and want to go back there, click Back or Previous in your bowser.

The entrance is convoluted and very shallow at points. All the guide books and chart packs give instructions to enter using a range that is on the beach about 1 mile south of the actual harbor. We have done this 3 times before and have bumped a bit going in once. This time we had no problem but saw readings of 5.2 ft at mid-tide. We also saw another boat going out via a route that, in years past would have had them aground. They made it just fine. While there we saw several others take this route in and out. I heard some captains talking about it on Ch. 16, but I never did find what the landmarks are. The course to steer is 242M but that's useless without a reference point. We just stuck with what has worked for us in the past.

There are several marinas in Alicetown, North Bimini. The cruising guides have the details. We did not stay in one. We anchored just north of the Big Game Club. The bottom is scoured and holding poor. The tide rips through there and it's an absolute necessity to set 2 anchors, one fore and one aft, against each direction of the current.

Alicetown is pretty funky, even more so than our last visit. Junk is everywhere. I guess a lot of it is from hurricane damage, but there's also just a lot of abandoned cars, golf carts, refrigerators, batteries, etc. There was also a lot of new construction since our last time here but more abandoned buildings and shops closed too.

We sailed most of the way from Bimini to the mid-point Mackey Shoal, where we intended to anchor and get some rest for the night. Up to this point everything had gone well but we were really hoping the sea state, which had been 2-3 feet most of the afternoon, would settle down a bit as we anchored. Well, that was not to be.

As we got to the spot, in the lee of Mackey Shoal, we anchored and had supper but the seas were still 2-3 ft. and the longer we stayed the higher they got. After eating we went to bed in the V-berth and, at times, felt weightless as the bow of the boat was thrown into the air by the seas, now 3-5 ft. At about 10pm we had both had enough (and not a wink of sleep) so we decided to get going.

Before raising anchor I wanted to get the mainsail up. As I was attaching the halyard to the sail, I lost my grip on the halyard and it was loose, being blown by the wind and tossed by the pitching of the mast. The halyard has a large stainless steel shackle on the end and it was flying around on the end of 50ft of rope. It picked up one of our telescoping boat poles, extended it to maximum length (while the deck is pitching wildly) and attempted to catch the wayward halyard. The boat pole is about 10 feet long and as I was reaching for the halyard, I lost control of the boat hook and the next thing I knew it was torn out of my hand with loud banging!

In loosing control of the boat hook I allowed it to get into the blades if the wind generator which was spinning rapidly in the 15 knot breeze. The boat hook was bent badly in 2 place and would never collapse again but it was still in one piece. The halyard was still flying loose so I decided the best course was to tether the wind generator so the halyard didn't get wrapped up in it. I then went about securing the mainsail since we would not be able to raise it without retrieving the halyard. To add injury to insult, as I was at the boom working on the mainsail, the heavy shackle at the end of the halyard smacked me on the side of the head. I was furious, but controlled myself (Ann says "If you mean cursing a blue streak is controlling yourself, you did."). I stayed in the same place and, keeping my eyes on it the whole time, waited for the halyard to come in reach and grabbed it. It was hopelessly tangled with the backstay and the topping lift so it could not be used yet, but at least I could secure it.

We set off under engine power (since the wind was right on the nose) and then at about midnight, the engine became erratic then stalled. We set the jib and I went below to change the fuel filter again. It was 4am before I got the system bled and the engine started. The good news was, I finally figured out what I was doing wrong while bleeding the fuel system. The bad news was, the alternator was not charging the batteries.

The lack of charging was not a problem - I started the wind generator again and we would have enough power for the instruments, radar and running lights until we got the Frazer's Hog Cay. As we were proceeding we decided that as soon as we could (probably in Nassau) we would get the fuel tank pumped and cleaned. We were also noticing that changing the thermostat in Bimini had not cured our over heating. It was not serious - we were not boiling over - but the engine should run at 180 degrees and it was up to 205! We slowed the RPM down and the temp came down closer to 180 so we stayed at that speed.

After getting to Frazer's Hog Cay, picking up a mooring and getting some sleep, we went over the night's event. We decided that:

• a clean fuel tank was top priority,
• we had to figure out why the engine was overheating,
• anchoring on the bank is a crock of BS (common wisdom used to be that running the bank at night was unwise because you can't see coral heads and if you got off the rumb line you might run into one but, in the age of GPS, sticking to the rumb line is much easier),
• we shouldn't detach the halyard from the sail when conditions are rough (find another way to secure it),
• we should tether the wind generator when things are not secure on deck i.e. boat hooks or halyards flying about.

We had stayed here before in December 1997 when new owners were just opening the Berry Island Club back up. This is an old gamefishing club supposedly one of Hemingway's hangouts. In recent years no one has been able to make the club profitable. It is again closed down and for sale. The attraction for cheap cruisers like us is that the moorings are still in good shape and are free.

The down side is the location of the moorings - right in the middle of a natural channel that drains and fills the many square miles of shallow flats to the north. The current runs at up to 3 knots and when the wind opposes the current, steep seas build up. We had one night of 3-4 ft seas while on the mooring. The line we used to attach our boat to the mooring ball almost chaffed through and I had to go up in the dinghy in those seas, under the bow of the boat, to attach another line to spread the load. Not fun!

The alternator problem turned out to be a blown fuse. We had a spare so got that fixed but need more spares.

We were really surprised that in Nassau there was no one who could filter the fuel in our tank, clean the tank, then return our fuel to it. This is a common service in the States, one we deeply regretted not having done before leaving. It is mostly our fault, I believe, that we were having these fuel clogs. It was due to the little use we had given the boat over 3 plus years in St. Pete. Fuel just doesn't like to sit around in a tank that long.

We found a mechanic who would drain our fuel into jugs, dispose of it, then clean our tank. Actually, I worked as hard as he did helping him but it meant it was done in one day. I don't know what he did with the fuel we took out, but the stuff at the bottom of the tank was seriously black and sludgy. I was glad to be rid of it finally. Found a leaking fuel line and replaced it along the way.

Next, we (Ann and I) tackled the overheating problem. The mechanics I had talked to all thought it might be the heat exchanger (actually, there were 2 - one added by a former owner). I took them both out (this involved taking off the intake/exhaust manifold) and gave them both dips in muriatic acid for 10 minutes. It took 2 days but went well (I didn't break anything else along the way). Unfortunately (as we would learn in a few days) it didn't fix the problem. Ann's help was instrumental in getting the manifold back on. Her hands are smaller and could reach a particularly tight spot.

By actually measuring the amount of cooling water passing out of the raw water circuit and then bypassing components in the circuit one-by-one, I was able to determine the oil cooler was partially clogged and restricting flow through the whole (series) circuit. I gave it a muriatic acid bath and re-ran the test and got nearly 4 times the throughput as before! Voilá! The problem is fixed. No more overheating! I left the second heat exchanger out of the circuit when putting things back together. I reasoned that the owner who put it in was having overheating problems and put the second heat exchanger in to fix them. He didn't find the real problem, he put a Band-Aid on it. Over three months later I still believe this was the right reasoning.

Rose I. is close to Nassau and on weekends fills with some pretty noisy boats, mostly power boats who raft together. Other than that, and the fact it's not good for south winds, it's a great stop. There are some nice reefs just outside the anchorage.

Royal Island has a great enclosed harbor although, as we were to find out later, the holding is not good everywhere inside. You enter from the south through a narrow cut then it opens out to a wide cove with about 12 ft. of water and about 15 sandy patches to drop the hook in. Outside the sandy patches the bottom is grass covered and the holding in only fair. You are protected on all sides and in particular to the northwest and north (where the strongest winds come as a front passes) there is a small hill that breaks some of the wind.

This may be the best anchorage I've seen in the Bahamas so far, EXCEPT if you or one of your neighbors doesn't get their anchor down in a sandy patch.

One of the attractions of Royal Island is that it is only about 5 miles west of Spanish Wells. Unfortunately, there is no good anchorage right at Spanish Wells. When cold fronts come through everyone one in the vicinity heads for Royal Island. When we were there we saw as many as 35 boats and there aren't that many sandy patches. We saw other boats drag their anchors and had one drag down nearly into us twice.

Almost as much of a home to us as Grenada.

The Kates family is more than worthy of my mention here. Their family has been on Eleuthera for many generations. Currently they (Kermit, Janet and Chris Kates) run a family business called Dingle Motor Service. In addition to being a gas station and convenience store they offer many services to cruisers - Internet connection, package delivery, car rentals, laundry service... Chris is a licensed real estate agent and Janet is an insurance agent. You name it, if they don't provide it they can tell you who does. And they are just the most helpful, friendly people you will ever meet. We became well known to them in our time there and we miss their smiling faces.

The town of Rock Sound is one of the cleanest we have seen in the Bahamas and most houses are very well maintained. It is not a very prosperous community but very proud. It is reminiscent of a small town in heartland USA in the 50s. Family life is very important as is being a good neighbor. Most folks go to church of which there are many - Methodist, Catholic, Anglican, Presbyterian were all seen. When we first arrived there was also an old fashion tent revival meeting that went on for 3 nights.

Eleuthera has a long history of settlement going back over 300 years. Early settlers were fleeing religious persecution in England. There are many Scots on the island. Families tracing their roots back to these settlers are common. Of course there are also, and even more, families that trace their roots back to Africans brought in as slaves. There seems to be very little evidence of friction between whites and blacks here even though, as is typical, the whites had all the power and possesions at one time. Still, the wealthiest landowners are white but, for the most part, the decendants of slaves are running the place - the government, utilities, and businesses are mostly black owned. In Rock sound, the Kates are a white family but almost all other businesses are black owned. There is a real middle and upper middle class becoming evident. The Bahamas have a long way to go though. It is still a very poor country that finances itself by very high import duties (47% on EVERYTHING. A case of beer is $35!). There is no industry or exports and any island that doesn't have a reason for tourists to go there is without any significant number of jobs.

See the photos

The caves are the result of the very soft and porous rock that the islands of the Bahamas consist of. It's much like the limestone bed of Florida and is subject to sink holes. I think these caves are really an extensive group of sink holes. As you are walking along the path toward them there is only a gradual slope up and then you reach a spot when there is a cliff. You're now looking down into the caves. Only a few sections have a roof. It lookes like a series a sinkholes connected by tunnels that were also formed by dissolving soft rock.

It's possible to climb down into the area and wander around from chamber to chamber. The trees on the surface send down their roots to find the cave floor. Some of these roots have obviously been doing this for a very long time.

The longer we spent in the caves the more we liked them. It was fun to wander around each corner a discover something new. Because of the large open sections above, there was always plenty of light and there were many paths where others had been there before us. The caves are definitely worth a couple of hours of time exploring.

The anchorage at Rock Sound has good holding on the east side near the town just north of the government dock. Here you are in the lee of the island for winds NE thru SE. When a cold front comes through, most boats head over to the west side of the sound (about 1 1./2 miles across) and then they are in the lee of the arm of land that forms the west side. Here there is good protection from SW thru N winds. We spend several days on the west side waiting out fronts that blew 30+ knots. The holding is very good there too. We had been spending too much time in town anyway.

Some background: Julia B is now 25 years old and so is her engine. The manufacturer, Westerbeke, is still in business but doesn't carry all parts for old engines. Along with that, to get certain information, you have to get through to exactly the right person on their end.

I won't go in to all the gory details but this process went on for a while getting information first from a repair shop in Florida, then their distributor, also in Florida, then from someone (maybe the only one) at Westerbeke who has been around long enough to remember that engine.

Keep in mind through all this that most of the communications I describe are via E-mail. This is very convenient (we can do it from the boat) and free. Phone calls from the Bahamas are $1 per minute. Some of the exchanges described took several days to get a simple answer. I'd send a question to person A who forwarded it to B and B to C. Then C answered B who forwarded it to A and me. Got that?

The first question I tried to get answered was "How serious is this?" It was only a few drips each time I ran the engine, easy enough to wipe up, but is it going to get worse? If so how quickly? If it were your boat, would you go 300 miles out into the Atlantic for 8 days with this? Well, the first answer about how serious it was came from the repair shop who said "Not serious, just live with it." But then my question got up to the guy at Westerbeke and he said "Potentially very serious. If enough fuel leaks out of the pump and into the crankcase, it can cause the engine to runaway!" In other words the controls would have no effect, you could not stop the engine and it would just increase in speed until it blew up. This was clearly a worst case scenario and, I think, partly a CYA (cover-your-ass) response. First of all, the leak was not going into the crankcase. Instead it was coming out of a weep hole outside the engine block. And this was from the guy who supposedly knew this engine the best.

So now I'm thinking I'd better find out how to get it fixed and then decide. I have the repair manual for the engine and it shows how to take the injector pump off and put it back on, but nothing else. After asking how to get a manual for the pump it comes back that the pump is not made by Westerbeke but by an English company, CAV. I did find out the model (this is good) but was told to forget fixing it myself. It would have to come back to the States to be rebuilt. Then A says "And, oh, by the way, looking at the engine repair manual, it looks like you're going to need a special tool to put the pump back on properly." B agrees with this assessment.

"What?! Who has this special tool?" I ask. A and B say "We'll try to find out."

This question about the special tool is very disconcerting. If nobody in the Bahamas has one and we decided it needs to be fixed, do we have to go back to Florida? The question makes its way up the food chain and the Westerbeke guy says "No special tool needed. It's simple. Just scribe the pump body before taking it off and the shaft is keyed." Well, that was a relief, and it only took a week to find it out!

But still, unless I could find someone in the Bahamas who could rebuild it, I'd have to take off the pump and ship it back to Florida, wait for it to be rebuilt, then have it shipped back before I could put it back on. Neither A, B or C could tell me of a place in the Bahamas that cold work on it, or if the parts were even available to do the job.

After thinking about and discussing this seemingly endlessly (like this piece is going on) with Ann, Andy, Dave, and A, B & C, Ann and I decided to get a good marine diesel mechanic to look at it and give us his opinion. Word was the best marine diesel mechanics in the Bahamas are the ones in Spanish Wells who work on the lobster boats. Next stop, Spanish Wells (we were going there anyway).

"Pinder's Tune up are the one's you want." came the recommendation. I was really hoping that they would say they could rebuild it there but, it was not to be. They told us they don't do injector work there, no one on the island does. Bummer, dude!

They did give us some really important information though. "A CAV pump you say? Well, Bay Street Garage in Nassau works on CAV pumps."

Bay Street Garage - that sounded very familiar. Then it hit me - that was the place we bought the tire patch kit! Garth Pinder (half the town of Spanish Wells is named Pinder) kindly gave me the phone number to Bay Street Garage and I called. Very quickly, I was directed to Phillip in the service department and he said "I'm working on one of those pumps right now. I've got the parts on the shelf. If you get it to me by tomorrow, I can have it done by the weekend. Just put it on the Fast Ferry. We'll pick it up. No problem."

It was such a relief to be talking to someone who had actually seen one of these pumps, I wanted to kiss him! Someone who knew all the answers (no, it really wasn't that serious a problem; no, it wouldn't suddenly get much worse; yes, I've got the parts; and, yes, I can do it).

It didn't take us long to make the decision. I had the pump off in less than an hour, boxed it up and carried it down to the Fast Ferry. There was one glitch though. The next day the Bay Street Garage delivery truck got very busy and never made it to the Fast Ferry office to pick it up. Phillip didn't get the pump until the next day (Friday) and it takes 2 days to do the rebuild so we didn't get it back until the following Tuesday morning. It was a 3 day delay that, in the end was actually fortunate (see the beginning of the story on our offshore passage).

We're really glad we went ahead and fixed it before leaving. It worked flawlessly through over 80 hours of run time in less than 8 days. I've never worked a boat engine that hard before and it was good not to have to worry about that leak.

Spanish Wells was founded by some Scots fleeing religious persecution in the 18th century. There is a story about a shipwreck and survivors seeking shelter in a cave (called Preacher's Cave) on the north end of Eleuthera. Details differ depending on who is telling the story but the essentials are there. In other words, these folks have been here for a while and this is their little paradise. Everyone is friendly and helpful but a little more standoff-ish than Rock Sound. They have their community and they're doing just fine, thank you very much. And by Bahamian standards, a very wealthy community it is. They have been making a very good living off the sea for a long time. Currently there is a fleet of lobster boats that goes out for weeks at a time and when they come back their holds are full (usually) of frozen lobster. They do not depend on tourism one bit. Not that they are rude - they are not. It's just that they are used to their own very well defined community and people from the outside are, well, outsiders.

One aspect of Spanish Wells that we noticed right off is their accent. They have remnants of a Scottish accent. It takes a little bit to attune to it but it is very pleasant to listen to.

Another oddity of Spanish wells is that it is dry. There is no place on the small island to buy any form of alcoholic beverage. You can take a 5 minute ferry ride over to Gun Point on Eleuthera and there's a liquor store right there, but you can't buy it in Spanish Wells. Restaurants also have signs up prohibiting you from drinking alcohol on their premises. There are social clubs but none serve alcohol. We were told that there used to be a bar at the marina that served but that was destroyed in Hurricane Floyd. We have never been to or heard of any other place in the Bahamas that is dry.

When planning to be at sea for a week or more and taking a route that takes you over 250 miles from the nearest land (that's two day's sail), you prepare a little more thoroughly than for a shorter trip.

We have safety gear on board all the time such as a life raft, EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon), equipment for marking and retrieving crew that have fallen overboard, storm sail, drogue (used to slow the boat down in high winds), life jackets, safety harnesses and jack lines, flares, two-way radios, etc. All of these are normally onboard but some of them (like the drogue and storm sail), we usually have stowed in places that aren't that easy to get to, since we don't expect to need them often (there's only so much space on a 37 ft boat). Also, some items we would normally stow on deck we wanted down below to reduce the chance of loosing them.

We normally sleep in the V-berth at the bow of the boat but when we are on any overnight passage we don't. Instead, we sleep in the quarter-berth right behind the nav station. This is so the person off watch is close at hand if needed. This part of the boat also moves less when underway and is more comfortable. This leaves the V-berth open for storage. We moved the drogue and storm sail and some of the on-deck items in there.

We normally have two anchors on the bow ready to go out if needed, a third at the stern hung on the stern railing and a fourth (a collapsible one) tied on deck over the cabin. It is always advisable to get weight as low as possible in a boat so we took the second anchor off the bow (along with its chain) and stowed them below. We did the same with the stern anchor. The collapsible anchor we broke down and stowed it in the bilge, too.

Several of our cabinets below have finger latches inside. These are known to open in really rough conditions when an item inside is thrown around and presses on the latch, releasing it. We added external latches (a simple small board that twists) to block the cabinet door from opening unexpectedly.

We deflated our dinghy and strapped it on deck. This we often do on longer passages.

We filled all of our tanks - water and fuel and then had extra gerry jugs of both. We had 25 gallons of extra fuel on deck, another 5 of fuel below and 10 extra gallons of water below deck.

I changed all of the fuel and oil filters and the engine oil. In a lot of ways, we had been preparing the engine for this trip for months. By that I mean all the work to get clean fuel, prevent overheating, and eliminate fuel and oil leaks. Everyone of those tasks had been necessary regardless but the fact that we would be taking this trip made sure we had it all done before now.

I went up the mast and inspected all of the rigging. While up there I checked the running lights, etc. I then re-tuned the stays and shrouds to make sure they were properly tensioned.

I dove on the prop a cleaned it and a good part of the bottom.

We learned a long time ago that food preparation under way is not fun. For our longer passages we always prepare as much food in advance as possible. Ann made soup, bread and tortillas in advance. She also prepared some meals in foil. We had grilled chicken thighs and then placed those with vegetables and some soy sauce in a sheet of aluminum foil then sealed the edges. These we then put in the freezer. In the evening, before beginning our night-time watches, she'd put a couple of these meals in the oven and 1/2 an hour later - hot food! It works out really well.

We filed a "float plan" with several family members. This describes where we expect to be going and when we expect to arrive. If something goes wrong they have information to give the Coast Guard that will help in a search. Aircraft pilots are required to file flight plans with the FAA every time they go up. The Coast Guard recommends that boaters file a float plan but say, "Don't give it to us. We don't have the manpower to keep track. Give it to someone who cares (about you). If there's a problem, have them call us."

We checked in everyday via E-mail with those that had our float plan so they knew what was going on.

Culebra is very nice even though the one real town (named Dewey after the US admiral) is mostly torn up while they put in a new water and sewer system. The streets are dirt and mud right now. Most things are available here in small stores and prices are higher than on the big island of PR but we'll do our real provisioning in Fajardo.

We checked in with Customs and Immigration at the airport, a short walk from town. The process was very nearly painless and maybe the easiest anyplace we've ever been. Even Vagus V, a Canadian boat, had no problems at all.

The main bay on Culebra is Ensenada Honda. It is large and well protected with a small, well marked entrance through the reef at the south end. We were anchored near town but there are several other anchorages in the bay. The holding is good in sand and mud.

We arrived a few days before the Good Friday/Easter holiday and the bay got pretty crowded as did the town (hundreds, maybe thousands of college kinds came over to camp for the weekend) but it was still mostly quiet. We were dreading a very noisy weekend but it was not.

There is a ferry that runs from Culebra (from Dewey, but nobody calls it that) to Fajardo 3 times a day with returns. Each leg costs $2.25 per person and it takes about 1 1/2 hours. It's a good deal. Many locals go over to do their big shopping each week.

Almost everyone we have met in Culebra speaks English very well. There are quite a few transplants from the states running businesses. All are very friendly and helpful. An example: we needed to make some toll-free calls to the US but the pay phone outside this small restaurant (El Batey) did not work (actually, because of the street construction, none of the pay phones in town worked). We went into the restaurant to ask where we could find another pay phone and, in addition to telling us (the airport), the owner offered her phone for us to use. We did, but only for one call since we didn't want to tie up her business phone too long.

On the north shore of Culebra is a well known beach, called Playa Flamenco. It is a public park with a camp ground. It is very popular with college students. It is a beautiful beach with good snorkling right off the beach. We took walk over to it one morning and had a good time lying in the sand.

Back in January when we were in Nassau and cleaning our fuel tank I noticed a leak in the fuel line from the fuel lifting pump to the secondary filter. This is a low pressure tube made of steel and it had rusted near the pump end at a bend in the tube. It was easy enough to replace the steel tube with a rubber hose I had onboard but I though I'd better replace all these lines, including the high pressure lines from the injector pump up to the injectors. They were all the same age (25 years) and all a little rusty and if one had rusted through...well, I wanted to be prepared.

So back in January I sent a list of parts to Dave Ayala in Florida to see if he could help me find a source for them. These tubes were all on that list plus gaskets, the heat exchanger end cap, etc. Everything I could see that was leaking even a little or I was worried about leak, I ordered.

The order was placed at the beginning of February. Some of the fuel lines were special order and had to come from Japan! After several weeks of waiting we received the parts while still in Rock Sound. I installed all of the fuel lines and replaced the leaking gaskets but when I got to the injector tubes, they didn't match what I had on the engine. Well, I started sending off E-mails to the shop the order went through, the distributor and the manufacturer (A, B, and C. Remember them from the Injector Pump Questions? Yup, the same). This is when I first found out the engine we have was made with 2 different injector pumps and we had the earlier one - not the one these injector tubes were supposed to fit. No, the tubes for our pump were entirely different. We got the correct numbers from Westerbeke and went through the distributor and dealer to find out when we could get the correct tubes. After a few days the answer came back that they were NLA (no longer available).

"So, what do we do now?" we asked, innocently. We were told there were shops in Florida that could make them for us but they would have to have the tubes to copy them. We were not going to go back to Florida so, since these were backup/spare tubes we asked "Do you know of a place in Puerto Rico or the Virgin Islands that can make them?" The distributor recommended a place called Tropical Power Systems in Fajardo. "OK", we thought, "we'll wait till we get there."

The distributor assured the dealer they would take the incorrect tubes back and not even charge a restocking fee. So one of the first things we did in Culebra, after our offshore passage, was box up those tubes and send them back for credit ($480 plus tax!).

When we got to Fajardo the first time at the beginning of April, we stopped in at Tropical Power Systems and met Andy Perez. We had actually sent E-mails to them beforehand so they were expecting us. No, they didn't know of anybody in the area that could make the tubes. Leslie, the owner, suggested that we bring in the tubes and he might have some that would match. We agreed and told them that would not be until we brought the boat over to Puerto del Ray in a couple of weeks.

Andy Perez on his own initiative, contacted the master distributor in the US for Westerbeke. They told him they did not have the parts either but they could duplicate ours! Great! But we still had to take ours off to send up to Michigan so they could duplicate them. This made me a bit nervous, shipping the only known set, which were still working, by the way, 2000 miles and chance having them lost in shipping, but, we didn't seem to have an alternative. We were quoted $75 per tube and it would take 2-3 weeks. This would fit nicely with the trip to Florida and Pennsylvania. We obviously wouldn't be using the boat while we were gone so what did it matter that it couldn't start? The new tubes would be back shortly after we got back to Puerto Rico.

Finally, we had a plan, thanks to Andy at Tropical Power Systems.

When we got settled at the marina in Puerto del Rey we took the tubes off and Andy from Tropical sent his son to pick them up on the 11th of May. They did not have any that matched so they sent them off to the master distributor. Meanwhile, we headed up to Florida and Pennsylvania. While up north we stayed in contact with Andy and were told the distributor had some "dummy" tubes that could be used for the duplication process and they could send our originals back. We quickly agreed to this even though it would cost us more in shipping. Later, as things progressed, we were so glad we had made this decision.

After we got back to Puerto Rico, our original tubes were waiting for us and we got those back on with no problem. We went back to Culebra to wait for the new tubes, which we expected in another week or so. We checked with Andy who checked with Tracy, his contact at the distributor, who was becoming a good friend of his. Tracy relay hat se had been told by the Westerbeke factory that the tubes were in production. This was the first we had heard that the people that were making the tubes were Westerbeke. Well, they should know the right way to make them, right? OK, so we check back at the end of the week. Now, Andy says Tracy says the factory says they didn't have the parts they needed but they would be in by the end of the week. Should be done by the middle of next week (then you have to add shipping time from the factory in Massachusetts to the distributor in Michigan to Puerto Rico). This was when we decided we had to get moving south so we left Culebra on June 7, almost 4 weeks to the day after we sent off the injector tubes (so much for 2-3 weeks).

Obviously there is more to this story as our travels progress. I bet you can't wait to find out what happens.

Sam is our kid, you know. His comfort and welfare are very important to us. A prime consideration in making plans for our trip up north in May was making sure Sam would be cared for. A month before our trip we took the ferry over from Culebra to Fajardo to check out the marina and find someone to care for Sam. We rented a car and drove to the marina. Debbie in the marina office said there was no one that came to the marina to look after pets but she knew of a pet shop where they boarded cats and dogs. She told us where to find it ("It's called Pets-R-Us and it's on highway 3 north of here , on the left, just passed Condom World"). She said she knew Jesse the owner and he is very nice.

We drove up and talked to Jesse who is very nice. We first asked if he would come to the boat but Jesse declined saying he knew nothing about boats and didn't want the responsibility if something happened to the boat. He'd be glad to board Sam in his shop, though. He was in the process, he said, of remodeling the area he used for boarding. He showed us what he had but said it was all going to change for the better. It was clean though cramped and we figured we'd have time to come up and look at it before dropping Sam off. He told us that he also had a rental house that was empty and would put Sam up there if the remodeling was not done.

"We really don't get many cats, it's mostly dogs. Puerto Ricans are not big cat lovers. " Jesse told us. He assured us Sam would be by himself, a major concern of ours since he can be very aggressive towards other cats.

We gave him the date we'd drop Sam off and told him we'd come to look at the boarding area. As we were driving away Ann and I looked at each other trying to gauge the others reaction. We concurred Jesse seemed like a man of his word and he would take care of Sam. We just weren't sure where Sam would be.

We called Jesse about 2 weeks later to find out how the remodeling was coming and it had not been started. The carpenter flaked out and he had to find a new one but he assured us he'd have a place for Sam even if it was the rental house.

The day came to drop Sam off and we took him up in a rental car. Jesse himself was in the process of building an enclosure for Sam (again, the carpenter flaked out). It was not done - it was barely started. In addition, he had 5 other cats that he was boarding for another 2 weeks. They were in large cages but he had now more cages and we insisted Sam not be put in with another cat. As we were talking about arrangements Jesse's wife introduced herself. She had heard our concern and wanted to see Sam. She spent a little time with him and them announced that if Jesse didn't get the enclosure done that evening before the shop closed, she'd take Sam home with her and keep him at their house for the night. We discussed the situation at their house and it seemed OK. We had to trust that Jesse and Jaye (his wife) were responsible people and they'd do the right thing for Sam. Our plane left the following morning at 8am (it was now about 5pm) and we had no way to make any other arrangements. We were a bit worried but decided to trust Sam to them and left.

We kept in touch with them through out our trip and as it turned out, they decided to keep Sam at their house the whole time (I really think this was Jaye's decision).

"He's no trouble at all." she told us.

When we picked him up Sam seemed to be in good shape and spirits. We never did find out if the enclosure had been completed. I doubt that it had. They did take good care of Sam. He was back to normal as soon as we got him on the boat. However, I think Jesse is one of those "round to it" types. He'll get around to it, someday.

Guadeloupe is actually 2 islands separated by a short river. The map of Guadeloupe looks like a butterfly, although a slightly lopsided one. We were on the west coast of the western island or the western wing of the butterfly. Pointe-á-Pitre is in the middle of the butterfly, between the 2 wings (near where the butterfly's butt wound be). To get there we would have to sail south till we cleared the southern tip of the western wing, then sail east across the bottom of the wing, then north to Pointe-á-Pitre. Of course the prevailing wind is from the east.

The winds were very light as we started but as we approached the southwest tip of the island the winds kept increasing until they were 30 knots. It didn't last and slackened to about 20 knots as we got south of the tip. We were sailing south-southeast, hard on the wind. Once we were well south of the southwest tip, we began tacking east. Even as we started north along the eastern side to the western wing, we had to keep tacking. This was caused by what is known as the cape effect. The very mountainous western part of Guadeloupe (called Basse-Terre) acts like a wall to the prevailing wind from the east. As the wind hits the wall, only some of it can go over the top. Most of it is deflected around the southern end of the mountains. The deflected wind bends southward or, in other words, appears to be coming from the northeast. When it gets to the south end of the mountains it straightens out so is now out of the east again. When it gets to the western edge of the mountains there is a hole of lower pressure on the back side that needs to be filled in. This causes the wind to bend again, this time to the north so it appears to be out of the southeast. It also causes the wind to speed up, hence the 30 knots we got as we approached this southwest tip.

The gist of all this is that we were sailing hard on the wind all day and tacking most of it even though we sailed south then east then north. Whichever way we turned, because we were following the coast, the wind turned to be in our faces. Oh, well. It's all predictable and we just kept on sailing. More practice at sailing up wind in 20+ knots.

Now this may sound like a gross generalization (and maybe it is) but, there are more French boaters that don't have a clue about safe, courteous anchoring technique than other nationalities.

I present the following evidence:

• June, in Culebra. We were anchored in Ensenada Honda. A large French flagged catamaran pulls along side less than 2 boat lengths away. They dropped their anchor, put out very little scope, didn't bother to back down on it to set it, then went below all within about 2 minutes. We had watched all this (as we always do when someone anchors close to us). As we continued to watch, our 2 boats swung in the wind as they normally do, getting closer until I could have touched their boat with our long boat pole. That's less then 12 feet separation and their boat is much larger than ours.

  Now, I have a thing about standing on our deck and shouting across to another boat that they are too close. I think it just makes people mad and gets everything off to a bad start. After all, it might have just been a miscalculation on their part. I've made those same kinds of miscalculations myself. So I will start by just going up on deck and looking over at the other boat. The other skipper will usually notice my concern at this point and may then reconsider his/her position without my having to say a word. It often results in a conversation in civil tones. This actually works most of the time. It works on me when I'm anchoring. In this case, they went below so fast I really didn't have time. After about 15 minutes they came back out, put their lunch on the cockpit table and casually glanced over at us then sat down to eat. No acknowledgement of how close we were and we could hear them talking quietly as they eat. It was like we were in neighboring slips in a marina we were so close. Ann and I were both in the cockpit looking at them and they completely ignored us. Even if there were no concerns about anchoring, a friendly wave might have been in order.

  At that point I decided I should go over in the dinghy to talk to them. As I pulled up to their stern, their small, friendly dog jumped into my dinghy. After getting him back out, I asked the man if he thought we might be too close?

  He looked over, shruged his shoulders, then said "No. We won't be here long. We just go to customs to check in then we leave."

  "Great," I thought to myself, "they're going to leave their boat while it's so close to us!"

  But based on their intention to leave, I didn't press the point. We kept a close watch on them and they didn't go to shore to check in but, several hours later, they pulled up their anchor and relocated well behind us.

• June, in Point-á-Pitre. A 50+ foot ketch with yellow sail covers near us dragged into the boat immediately next to us. There was only about 15 knots of wind at the time and the entire area had very good holding. If the wind direction had been slightly different, they would have hit us. There was no serious damage to either boat but that was only because of quick action by the owner of the struck boat. The owner of the dragging boat didn't know he was dragging.

  We watched this boat with the yellow sail covers as they re-anchored then and several more times over the 2+ week we were there. They dragged again and also relocated for other (sometimes not obvious) reasons. Each time they made the same mistakes: didn't put out enough scope, didn't wait for the boat to settle on the anchor, and didn't back down on it to set it.

• July, in St. Pierre. The first incident involved a charter boat. In the space of about an hour they anchored and dragged because of poor technique several times. They picked a spot where the holding is good but were much too close to us and our neighbor twice. Each time they dragged with winds less than 10 knots. Every time they re-anchored we were making hand signals for them to go farther from us (and our neighbor) but they only went slightly farther away. They too kept making the same mistakes when re-anchoring: not setting the anchor into the wind, not enough scope, and backing down too early (not enough scope out when backing down). The skipper of this boat drove it like a truck and floored the engine each time he changed direction. Huge black clouds of exhaust would spew from both engines each time he did this. Luckily, they did not stay the night. They fixed lunch, ate it, then moved on.

  The second incident, the same day, involved a boat that was, by appearances, one that had been cruising for a long time. He had anchored several hundred yards away from us but, hours later, we looked up and he was right off our port bow and getting closer. Again, the wind was very light in a spot with very good holding. We yelled to get his attention. He came up from below with his mouth full, chewing (he must have been having supper). When he realized why we had called to him (he didn't speak English and I don't know how to say "Your anchor is dragging" in French) he said "C'est bon" without any excitement. He disappeared down below for a few minutes (we thought he might be going to finish his supper) then calmly came back up with his rain jacket on. He was good about it, picked up his anchor and moved to a spot far from any other boats. I suspect he just hadn't put out enough scope when anchoring originally.

• July, in Le Marin. The boat with the yellow sail covers that we had seen in Point-á-Pitre anchored near but behind us (thankfully) in an area of good holding. Shortly after anchoring he left the boat. While he was gone, a rain shower came through with winds of about 20 knots and the boat started dragging. It went several hundred yards then stopped, the anchor apparently resetting itself. Unfortunately, it was now very close to a commercial ferry and, as the two boats swung in the wind, they collided, although not violently. He came back moved his boat and we could see again as he re-anchored, he did not put out enough scope. Ann and I promised ourselves that if we see that boat anchor anywhere near us again, we will move.

Never before in so short a time have we observed such a display of poor anchoring: anchoring too closely and dragging in areas of good holding and (relatively) benign winds. Charter-boaters are notriously bad at anchoring but only one of the above was a charter boat. I've heard reasons given for the French boater's shortcomings when anchoring: "their anchorages (in France) are very crowded and they have little swinging room so all boats put out very little scope" or "the harbors in France have many moorings available and they anchor infrequently". If the first one is true they must collide with other boats all the time. Maybe that explains their casual attitude. If the second is true, maybe they should take a refresher course on the principles of anchoring.