December, 2010

The first week of December was uneventful, with daily dives and visiting with neighbors. Then, on December 6^th, our dinghy outboard wouldn’t start. A little probing showed there was no spark. I had power to the capacitative discharge ignition (CDI) module but none out of the coil. The motor being only a few months old, I called the Bonaire Budget Marine store. They asked me to get the dinghy to a dock and would have their mechanic probe it with his meter. I rowed it into the marina. The mechanic checked all of the leads and determined that the CDI module had failed. He said Budget would supply a warranty replacement, which would be shipped from St. Martin as soon as possible. I asked a neighbor tow me back out to the mooring field and to Wight Skye. 

We were stranded on our own boat. Well, not quite. Cruisers are a friendly and helpful fraternity. Neighbors offered us rides to shore if we needed to go. On the 13^th, a week after the breakdown, our replacement CDI module still hadn’t arrived. I got paranoid and ordered one over the internet from a Maryland Tohatsu dealer with instructions to ship overnight to our daughter’s address She’ll be flying down to Bonaire on the 18^th and could put it in her luggage. By the 15^th, Jack and Fred, S/V Denali Rose, offered us the use of an old Evenrude 4 horsepower outboard. We jumped at the opportunity to get off the boat, walk on dry land, buy some groceries, and make other preparations for our daughter’s visit. 

Our daughter, Michelle, and her friend Beverly, arrived on schedule, December 18^th. In their luggage was the new CDI module, and I had my outboard running in a few minutes. Our warranty replacement didn’t arrive until the 21^st. Glad I got one from a US dealer.

Over the two weeks of the girls’ visit, we showed them much of the island with our rental car. Unlike the most of the rest of the Lesser Antilles, most of Bonaire is composed of uplifted reef. Only in the northern end did basaltic material erupt to the surface. The core of the island is strongly folded and faulted rocks of volcanic origin, along with silica-rich sediments and turbidites. This intrusion and faulting activity occurred during the Lower Cretaceous, about 120 million years ago. Above these rocks are fossil reefs, uplifted at the same time, and visible today everywhere on the island as white, sandy soil, low limestone cliffs and the iron shore along the windward side. About a quarter mile west of the leeward shore is another island, uninhabited, and barely above sea level. It is named “Klein Bonaire” and comprises 2.3 square miles.

The island is low and flat everywhere except the northern end. Much of the southern part is less that six feet above sea level. The highest basaltic peak in the northern end is 781 feet. Bonaire is less than 24 miles long and is 6.8 miles at its widest part. Its area is about 111 square miles, equivalent to a square 10 ½ miles to a side.

The climate is arid, averaging 19.31 inches per year, falling mostly during the November and December wet season, with a minor second wet period in July. The extremely porous fossil reef and sandy soil allows rainfall to soak away rapidly leaving less than 10 percent of the island with soil suitable for crops and gardens.

By the time the girls arrived, I had selected a particular snorkeling circuit of about a half mile, starting from Wight Skye, heading north along the reef edge to the rock jetty of the marina inlet, loop around and head back toward Wight Skye over the shallow sand flats of the foreshore. It’s hard not to resort to superlatives in explaining just how rich in numbers and variety of fish this particular place is. It’s a fish magnet. Probably, the North Atlantic Equatorial Current that splits and sweeps westerly around Bonaire meets here, concentrating plankton. Also, something about the marina rock jetty is very attractive. Perhaps it’s the protection of the hollows among the great stones. Great schools of Creole Wrasse flow here in the late afternoon to mate. Clouds of Brown and Blue Chromis are always here gulping up plankton. The big predators come in here, probably to snack on Chromis and the small Wrasse. With a scum of algae on the rocks, there are always large numbers of Parrotfish and Blue Tang grazing. Mix in Jacks, Chub, Tarpon, Morays, Schoolmasters, Grunt, and you’ve got most species found scattered on the reefs all concentrated right before you. The sand flats have the excavators: Goatfish, Mojarra, Bonefish, Trunkfish, working constantly to dig, blow holes, pump sand and strain out a meal. The flats have numerous isolated brain and boulder corals, several of which are cleaning stations. Here the bigger fish arrive and ask for a cleaning by assuming a head-up position. Quickly, the cleaners come out and commence picking parasites and cleaning wounds. The cleaners are either gobies or young French Angelfish. There are numbers of Sharptail Eel, poking into holes and cracks, always attended by a Bar Jack hoping the eel will flush out a meal for both of them. The Yellowtail Snapper cruise around eating many things, but seem especially fond of the gametes floating in the water column right after a male and female of most any species mate, racing into the cloud of milt and eggs taking great gulps.

The girls stayed with us until the 2^nd of January.

November, 2010

November started as October ended: waiting for a weather window during which to sail to Bonaire. Following Hurricane Tomas and his unsettled after effects, an exceedingly powerful cold front blew down out of North America, remaining strong as it hit the South American landmass and the isthmus of Panama. The air piled up against the mountains and was forced east, creating west winds across most of the southern Caribbean Sea. This being the zone of Trade Winds, west winds only occur briefly as a component of a vortex. This current system, though, was a broad band a thousand miles long -- not a good time to contemplate a westerly passage. So, we waited.

For diversion, the original factory fresh water pump finally wore out. I had spares in storage. Rarely does anything go smoothly, though. The manufacturer discontinued the original model. The replacement had a slightly different footprint, so I had to cut and file bits out of the fiberglass sound-dampening cover for plumbing ingress. The small input filter had a crack in it, so I had to find a new filter and change the plumbing a bit. With the trip to the chandlery, it took the whole day. Our freshwater system does have a foot pump, though, and we still had potable water. On this day, vote counts showed that the G. O. P. and the Tea Party had won a majority in the U. S. House of Representatives.

Most cruisers have by now assumed that Tomas was the last hurricane of the season and are getting ready to leave Grenada, their summer home, just like it has been for us. On Thursday, November 4^th, we joined a potluck dinner with many other cruisers for one final visit with friends we may never see again, or at least not until next season. This same day, we got an e-mail from dear friends, Charles and Leslie, S/V Phaedrus, noting that they would be leaving Trinidad, bound for Grenada, and would like to see us if possible. They would arrive the following Tuesday or Wednesday. In the meantime, we took the bus downtown for one last shopping trip for new towels, some clothing, and to eat out one last time at our favorite Chinese restaurant.

By mid-week, the second week of November, the Trade Winds were reasserting themselves, at least lightly, in the southern Caribbean, so on Wednesday, the 10^th, we took the dinghy from Clark’s Court Bay to Petite Calavigny Bay to the nearest Customs and Immigration offices to get out exit papers from Grenada. At noon, we took the bus to the head of Prickly Bay and walked into the boatyard to “De Big Fish” restaurant to have lunch and a good visit with dear friends Charles and Leslie. Later in the day, we worked to get the boat ready for a passage. Joan secured all loose items belowdecks and I took down shade tents, deployed lifelines, checked the engines again, topped off the water tanks and deck jugs, and we took the outboard motor off the dinghy and hung it on the stern rail.

Early on the morning of the 11^th, we finished getting ready for sea except for the little window air conditioner. Lucky for me, friend Bonesy came around to wish us well and stayed to help remove and stow the window air conditioner. By 11:00 a. m., we cast off our dock lines and motored out of the bay and around the south end of Grenada. As we cleared the inshore waters, I hoisted the sails and we were bound for Bonaire. Our passage would be around 380 miles, so we were looking at around three days at sea.

It was not a nice passage. The winds were lighter than predicted, so we had to leave the motor running. I cannot carry enough fuel to make the entire trip under power, so was hoping for the winds to fill in at some point. A strong northerly swell was still running, caused by that powerful cold front. With little wind in our sails, we rolled horribly side-to-side much of the time. Also, it was hot! On Friday, twenty four hours later, we were off Blanquillas Islands and it was 92 degrees air temperature over 86 degree ocean water. The winds were so light and seas calm enough and the northerly swell abated that I dumped my four deck jugs of diesel fuel into the tank we had been using -- a good job to get over with when the boat wasn’t rolling. Friday evening, as we were nearing Los Roques, a terrible squall stuck with strong southerly winds and blinding rain. The squall set up southerly wind waves that collided with that northerly swell, causing horrible steep, blocky seas. It was over in a couple of hours, and gradually, the seas went down.

By early Saturday morning, a nice southeasterly wind had developed and we put out all of the sails again and shut down the engine. We got in about sixty miles as the day passed. By evening, as we neared the Aves, the winds died completely. We left up the stays’l and started the engine again. By 04:00, Sunday, we made Lacre Point, the southern end of Bonaire, and passed into the relatively protected waters on the lee side. By the time we made Kralendijk and the mooring field, another terrible squall hit. It rained so hard, it was difficult to breath unless I held my head up near the underside of the bimini. With nothing else to do, I motored slowly offshore, waiting for the storm to end and enough light to find a mooring. (The entire shoreline of Bonaire, out to a depth of 300 feet, is a National Marine Park and anchoring is strictly prohibited.) 

We took showers and a nap. Upon arising, we took the dinghy to town and checked into Bonaire Customs and Immigration. Returning to the boat, we went for a snorkel in Bonaire’s beautiful clean, clear waters.

It was overcast and squally when we arrived. It didn’t change. We’ve been to Bonaire a number of times since 1992. It is truly a desert island, clothed in acacia and cactus. It’s always hot and dry. This fall, however, we were not to see much of the sun through the balance of November. It has been raining so often and so much that we’ve  only had to catch water running off the decks to keep the tanks filled. It appears that the equatorial conveyor belt of moisture has not finished migrating south. It should be over the equator and the edge of the southern hemisphere, but it’s still up here at 12 to 15 degrees north. On Thursday, November 18^th, we experienced a “reversal”, which occurs when a storm cell attempts to rotate into a tropical depression or tropical storm. By about 1:00 p. m., we could feel a serious westerly wind. It kept rising in strength to around 30 mph. Mind, we are moored on the normal lee side of the island in the open sea. If the wind reverses, we are moored on a lee shore with waves passing under the boat and crashing on the beach about 150 feet behind us. If a mooring line broke, we’d be on the beach in seconds. By about 3:00 p. m., the winds had reached 35 and I instructed Joan to drive the boat while I cast off the mooring lines. We called ahead and got a slip assignment in Bonaire’s only marina, Harbor Village, fully protected from the open sea by massive stone jetties. By dusk, the west wind had blown out and the night was peaceful. Early next morning, we left for our outside mooring again.

On Friday, the 19^th, we made it to one of the dive resorts that deals with cruisers. We bought our Bonaire Marine Park permits, made arrangements to have our SCUBA tanks refilled after each use, and did our checkout dive. We were finally ready to dive Bonaire! Even though the Caribbean reefs are in such poor shape, we are never disappointed in what we see. On this, our first dive, we chanced upon a big Hawksbill turtle that was digging up coral rubble and stones to gnaw off the crust of seaweed. Naturally, overturning the rocks exposed numbers of tiny critters for something else to eat. The turtle was accompanied by several big French and Queen Angelfish and a Rock Beauty, all waiting to pounce on something each time the turtle overturned another rock.

Other than the frequent rains and squalls, life in Bonaire has settled into a routine. We rented a car for a day of laundry and shopping. Most days, if the weather isn’t too unsettled, we dive in mid-afternoon. We eat out occasionally in one of the many fine restaurants here. Some old cruiser friends are here, and we get together for drinks or a meal or just visiting. There’s Tom & Bonnie of S/V TuJours, Clive and Margot of S/V Revid. There’s always boat cleaning, fixing, care of SCUBA gear, and the like.

The corals, already beat up, took a big hit this summer from overly hot sea temperatures. They’re mostly bleached out down to about 50 feet of depth. Many are still alive. Some will recover. Still, the reef is losing diversity. For example, brittle stars, formerly so very common you don’t even stop to look, are absent this year. There are no Queen Triggerfish left anymore. The vase sponges are disappearing. The infamous Lionfish, a Pacific Ocean species that escaped an aquarium in Florida, has now invaded the Bonaire reefs. I think the release of imported exotic plant and animals should be subject to capital punishment.

October, 2010

On Tuesday, the 5^th, I had my next bout of boat troubles. Bear in mind that we’re in a marina, plugged into the local electricity. That keeps the battery chargers energized, and we have no idea that our batteries have reached the end of their lives. We use four Group 31 absorbed glass mat (AGM) batteries in the “house bank”, and another as the starting battery. I observed something was wrong when I tried to start the diesel generator and nothing happened. These batteries were not quite four years old. I had expected perhaps five years out of them. Anyway, there’s nothing for it but to start battery shopping. The last set were from West Marine in Texas in early 2007. I was lucky to buy them using a friend’s wholesale account and paid $900. This time, I paid retail, plus Grenada VAT, amounting to a little over $1,600. The brand name was Deka, but they were identical to the West Marine batteries. The cost is one painful part of new batteries. The other is actually changing them. Our battery bank is located in a cubby beneath the quarterberth mattress. Each of the five batteries weighs 69 pounds. It’s cramped and hot and dark in there. I’ve got to carry them up the companionway ladder and out onto the dock, then carry the new ones back down, connect them, and clamp them in place.

Traveling abroad can be so mundane or so exotic. On October 8^th, while shopping at the IGA, I bought one of the cheaper packages of frozen fish filets. It was labelled “Banga Mary”. What is this, I wondered? A search on the internet revealed that this is the local name for a freshwater fish of the Drum family, inhabiting several rivers in South America. The commercial fishery is concentrated on rivers of Guyana. Neat stuff! On the 9^th, we walked a good ways to a creole cafe where we had stewed chicken, plantain, cou-cou, rice, and ginger beer.

About the second week of October, world grain prices went crazy and shot skyward. I had already marketed much of ’10 production, but still had some to sell. I watched grain quotes hourly, waited for tenant harvest reports to arrive, and gradually sold the balance of the year’s grain.

It appears the hurricane season is winding down, so I’m making preparations to leave. I’ve shopped for such essentials as inkjet cartridges, which won’t be available in the smaller islands. I’ve also bought a ream of 8 ½ x11 paper, as most islands only sell A4. I’m also making arrangements to have a diver clean our bottomsides, and for another fellow to polish the stainless steel and wax the topsides.  

Late October: With the (sort of) handy marina clothes washers, we stripped the beds and washed mattress pads, spare blankets and settee throws. On the 26^th, our friend Bonesy came and started polishing stainless steel and washing and waxing the boat. The divers came to scrub down the bottomsides and clean barnacles off the shaft and propeller.

Also on the 26th, the National Hurricane Center took note of a powerful storm situated on the Intertropical Convergence Zone about 500 miles east of Africa. On the 27^th, this storm was given the designation “Invest 91 L”. On the 28^th, this storm was intensifying and beginning to rotate. By Friday, the 29^th, this system had reached Tropical Storm intensity and was bearing down on the Southern Windwards -- us. After buying groceries, I deployed another three dock lines and moved Wight Skye about three feet away from the finger pier, so heavy winds and seas wouldn’t rub us hard against the pier. We also took down our shade tents and canvass and doubly secured all loose items on deck. We took the outboard motor off the dinghy and rowed it to shore, carried it into the mangroves and secured it with a couple of lines. By 5:00 p. m., Tropical Storm Tomas had become Hurricane Tomas. This added internal rotational speed gave him a bit of steering off to the right, and before midnight Saturday, Tomas passed over northern St. Vincent, with the dangerous quarter winds striking southern St. Lucia, about seventy miles north of our location. St. Lucia suffered nine deaths, building damage, flooding and mud slides. For us in southern Grenada, the passage of the Hurricane was sort of a non-event. We saw light winds and some rain. After the passage, though, we found ourselves in a feeder band and had a couple of days of winds in the thirties and twenties blowing right up the long axis of the bay.