These LinesMy Way With Words

Forenote (i have gone quite wild with parenthesis in this post. This could be a new fad or an annoying (b)racket)

Leaving St Thomas and the discarded toenail of America behind was a good feeling. As much as I love quality baseball caps, all you can eat meal deals and Radio shack. St Thomas feels a bit off, a bit forced and a bit ugly if you are not in the thin coastal strip that surrounds the scarier part.

Antigua promised to be more of the real Caribbean whatever that was. Sadly about two hours into our passage I discovered my Granny had passed away. This was a shock, as discussed earlier and I could not wait to see land.

Antigua has a chequered history. If you play Pirates! extensively you discover Pirates were forever attacking and overthrowing Antigua along with the French, English, Spanish and Dutch.

The history started at the end of our gangway , we tied up in Nelsons dockyard. That’s right Admiral Nelson of the British navy was stationed here for a couple of years, you might have heard of him.|

What did we do in Antigua? Well there was a boat show to get ready for so we did a lot of cleaning and detailing and other work stuff. The boat show was a big drinking swill fest and junket for a whole bunch of Charter brokers. I think I have shared my musings on brokers before. I do not have much more to say about them other than it would be a wise idea to run a hot air balloon festival here at the same time given the vast amounts of heated gas heading skyward every second.

Photographic evidence of how awesome brokers are.

(if you can not read that. His name is Splinter Fangman. Who the hell calls themselves Splinter Fangman?)

On our first day in Antigua Anna and I ventured out to do some provisioning(shopping) . We had what was to be the first of many very eccentric taxi rides. If I was to sum up Antigua it would not be the 360+ beach Island (which it is) it would be the island of many vivacious and extraordinary taxi drivers. Our first taxi driver was a self styled island ambassador. He knew everyone on the island and was happy to stop frequently to chat with them. He was also quite fond of singing and freestyle rapping. I do have 24 seconds of his freestylin which may or may not make it online at some point.

After talking with some of the people who have decided to make Antigua home I have come up with the conclusion that Antigua is a magnet for the disenfranchised and skewed. A refuge for the daringly different as it were.

On our first Sunday here we went up a hill with an eccentric taxi driver to a place called Shirley Heights. Situated in a national park on a Sunday night you can have a BBQ, listen to live Reggae and Calypso music and generally have a great time. They also had some devilish rum punch which may have had some added witchdoctor spices.

Once the charter show started there was not a lot of time for sightseeing. I have been very restrained since coming to the Caribbean with regards to partying. I have a self enforced curfew of 12am and I have a few rules for going out.

If the DJ plays the same song twice I leave.
If there is any Karaoke I leave.
If there are any simulated sexual acts with a donkey I leave.

These rules have served me well and I am happy to say I felt positively super human all week during the charter show and into about two hours of our Sunday adventure.

The Super Sunday Sailing Adventure

Late last week James(James is quite a character and rest assured his personality and history will be explored in a crew profile soon), the other deckhand and I decided that we should hire a sailboat for our day off. Dedicated readers will know that my last sail boat excursion was not particularly memorable or in fact clever. I was determined to see things right.

On Sunday morning half of our motley crew assembled in the mess to go sailing! All of the crew except for Anna and I were in various states of drunkenness and hangover. We corralled everyone into a group and marched them to the next marina along where we would collect our sailing yacht. The safety briefing was quite simple and a bit shocking. There were three pertinent points. One of which would haunt us, The gearbox bilge was leaking.

With our briefing out of the way we were soon motoring into the wind on the way to Green Island. Our hope was to sail home with a favourable wind and live the WAFI dream. James was a very good instructor and was soon telling us important information and showing us how to drive a sailboat with our feet and look the part.

Foot steering.

Beer holding and sunglass modelling.

It took us about two hours of motoring to get near Green Island. We had to go quite close to some reefs and James decided to slow the engine down. We then had engine failure and learned how to sail a boat very fast. It is amazing how quickly you can learn how to sail when you have drunk a few Gin & Tonics and there is a reef close by. Any scientists that want to pick up that hypothesis I am happy to float some evidence your way.

Under James’s tutelage and gentle coaxing we soon had an anchor down and were enjoying the pristine waters of the Caribbean and not worrying about our engine at all. James rigged up a swing out of some rope and we were soon swinging into the water with wild abandon. Sailboats are full of rope and wild abandon

A tender came out to see us from a handily close restaurant and we decided to jetison our sailboat and go to a fancy restaurant.

This is something guests do all of the time so it was nice to do it on a slightly less grandiose scale. The restaurant was memorable, it had an infinity pool.

Very stylised photo of said infinity pool.

Fed, watered and a bottle of wined we retreated back to our sailboat we had abandoned to engage in some more swimming, drinking and a bit of snorkelling. Our engine was now working and we would be able to motor past the reef and sail home. We soon discovered that although our engine was now working our gearbox was not and we could only manage a lazy reverse. After some phone calls to our hireage company it was decided we would try and sail home without any engine. We then found that our anchor winch was not working. Hauling up an anchor for a 40 foot sailboat by hand is not something I would recommend after quite a lot of Gin & Tonic, some prawns, chorizo, steak and apple pie. Oo and two glasses of wine and a coffee to wash it down. We succeeded in hauling the anchor. I then made a substantial impromptue offering to Neptune.

The sail home was short lived. By now James had discovered that his crew were getting a bit tired and his commands were not being met with the same snap as before. Quite a few of his orders were being miss heard, or not done at all. We turned around and went back to our anchorage. We would radio for help. It turns our our radio was only a one way radio. This is not desirable in a minor emergency. James got on the phone again and the hire company promised to send a rescue party.

Another sailboat sent a tender to check up on us. He had been watching our antics and was very impressed by our sailing off and doubling back and knowledgeable looking crew. He also had a very wry smile. After some more anchor hauling and a bit of a push we had the Sailboat in a better position to abandon. Hopefully help was on its way.

Help did come and we were soon in a taxi heading home as the sun set. Not quite the way we envisaged our trip home but we did get to sensibly abandon that problematic sailboat and had a great laugh as well. There is some huge cataclysmic irony in that the two times I have set foot on a sailboat I gone from incredibly sober to incredibly unsober and vice versa.

We have now left Antigua and are heading towards the promised land, Saint Martin. Saint Martin is a fantastic place to be if you are a Super Yacht or crew member in the Caribbean.

Merry Christmas

It has been a while since I have written a Deckhands log. Recently new few found working conditions have been a trifling  stifling for creative endeavours but in the past week  I unearthed a fantastic opportunity.

Being  the Nightwatchman!

A further testament to the evolutionary organisation of this vessel. During charters we have a dedicated person who works throughout the night. An automaton who is rarely seen or heard.

Having spent many a night seeking pleasure the actual mechanics of working through the night promised to be a wholly new exciting experience. The night watch started at 10pm and was supposed to work through till 12 in the mid day.

With no body to talk to and glorious moonlight draped vistas surrounding me what revelations did I glean?

Firstly the Caribbean sea is absolutely full of underwater creatures. The underwater lighting that most yachts have attract them like New Yorkers to a hot dog stand.

Previously Dolphins  have danced in front of me. With new animals cavorting around I began to think of myself as a modern day Dr Doolittle who had marine animals to talk to throughout the night. Some of them looked a bit like Dolphins, a closer inspection was warranted. These Dolphins did not seem to be breathing much…… E Gads Dr Doolittle these Dolphins are in fact Sharks! Big ones small ones Sharks of every description preying on the smaller fish and Nightwatchmen who might fall into the water.

With my hopes dashed I left my water bound friends and began to gaze at the heavens. On our second night we had a full moon. This gave some illumination and let me spy upon WAFIs. What are WAFIs?My Captain was only to proud to inform me what they were when he briefed me on anchor watch.

Large tangent…..

When I first heard about anchor watches I thought it meant sitting on the bow with a torch watching the anchor chain for hours at a time. I do not think they have ever been this rudimentary.  With modern day technology, we can use Radar, GPS and Radio technology to make sure other vessels and the weather do not harm our homes.

A WAFI is a Wind Assisted Fucking Idiot. They are everywhere, usually drunk and do not obey the rules of the sea. One evening I actually saw a sailboat sailing very fast with no lights and with a serious lack of clues. It only takes a couple WAFI’s sailing around and you get instant trouble.

Do not for a second think I was wandering the decks peering into the sea and at the horizon for hours at a time. I was working furiously. With a task list that changed every night, I spent most of the time working through my lists and timing myself. Did you know it takes half an hour to clean a six metre tender? Half an hour to rinse and chamois half a deck passageway? With facts mounting like this my brain was swelling to unheard of sizes. With no human interaction between the hours of 10pm and 6am I began to reacquaint myself with myself. People pay money to experience life changing events like these!

The ramifications of staying up all night with no close friends other than coffee and engaging in physical labour are interesting. A curious thing happens with sun rise. A smart Vampire is climbing into his or her coffin. Only a stupid one stays to watch the sun.

I call the two hours after the sunrise the Vampiric affliction period. You know you should be in bed but you foolishly think you are ok. Two hours in something really interesting happens. You start to become a Zombie! Communication is best done with one syllable words or grunts. It is best to only do the simplest of tasks, like holding a bucket. I also noticed if I had to write something on the white board some of my letters would be back to front. Perplexing? Certainly. Time seems to slow down and you are soon shuffling around looking undead !

That said I did try to find cures for the curses of Vampires and Zombies. In fact on the very last day of our charter I had this recipe concocted and in action.

Though out the night
Liberal doses of coffee,
Coca cola
Muesli

When the sun comes up
Nurofen
Polarised sun glasses
Water
More coffee
Bacon
Eggs
A shower

At 8:30 am I was pretty much ready for everything. Well almost anything. I was sent to bed!!!! Then instead of getting my usual 10 hours rest. I got three hours and then had to get up again. When I arose I really looked like a dead Vampire/Zombie. People have been telling me I look tired a lot recently. This is just a  nice way of saying you look like shit.

Thankfully I did get to sleep eventually and we had the next day off. A Monday even. I had myself a magic Monday.

The sinister news. The next charter I will be……….

The Daywatchman!     

An extended period at sea has given me plenty of time to ponder many topical subjects that have entered, mutated and vacated my mind tropically.

My first thoughts have been that whilst the rocking motion of the ocean is a calming influence it is completely crap for writing upon. Time and time again I have picked up my laptop to finish and start various  tomes only to be distracted by the mountainous DVD library aboard or the mountains of unfinished ice cream. For this I offer condolences, please click the Google ads to help pay for my blogs funeral.

Given the nature of this voyage this passage will boldly jump tenses so I apologise to all of my English teachers past and present.

Now my clever worded public service announcement is out of the way let us get on with the very exciting business which was my first Atlantic crossing.

Our Atlantic crossing was undertaken in three sections. The first section was from Barcelona to Gibraltar. I was quite happy to see the backside of Barcelona. It is a city of crime, and drunken sailors are an easy target. I do believe we had four phones miss-placed in Barcelona.

From Barcelona we sailed perilously close past the island of sirens Ibiza, sadly no mermaids swam out to waylay us. I think I saw the faint glow of a million inert disco balls.

I am not sure what I expected of Gibraltar but what greeted us was not it. Surely there was a big rock and the fuel was tax free so why did I feel short changed?

Leaving Gibraltar for Tenerife we were incredibly lucky to have a fantastic omen. A huge pod of dolphins swam in the wake of our bow for half an hour or so. Sadly I did not take any footage, but the memory is a very pleasant one. Atlantic ocean dolphins are very large and splendid animals.

It is here that I can share one of my extra responsibilities for this voyage. With my freshly gained engineering qualification I have been doing an engine room watch in conjunction with my navigation duties. Now, being me, I am the first to admit my mechanical knowledge is somewhat limited. What I do have is an innate ability to sound knowledgeable on almost any topic, very useful in an engine room.  Luckily my engine room duties just require me to be vigilant, read some gauges and help out where I can. I am learning a great deal and it is making time go a bit faster on our journey.

Here is an awesome photo of me with the twin awesome Caterpillar D399 engines. Notice I am not wearing shoes like all great McConnell engineers. I am however wearing ear muffs.

Tucked in off the coast of Africa are the Spanish Canary islands. They are volcanic and if they were erupting it would be handy to have a canary in a cage. We pulled in to Tenerife on a Saturday night with the promise of more fuel in the morning. The crew were very thirsty. I had the nervous twitching associated with a heroin addict in withdrawal. I had not had internet for two days.

With the crew safely watering at a bar I ventured into deepest darkest Tenerife in search of an Internet cafe. I did not find any. What I did find was a gambling den with one of the most frightening sights i have ever seen.

Image censored in accordance with homeland security ordnance 5.1.45

With this ghastly patrons visage burned into my retinas I took solace in five or so gin and tonics. On our way back to the boat we were dismayed to find the entrance to the port locked. What followed was a very safe, quiet and mad cap adventure. I can not stress how safe and law abiding it was. Thanks Captain Jack. (more about him at a later date)

Leaving Tenerife we started the real grind of our trip. Nine days at sea towards the Caribbean. More so than any other trip I have been gobsmacked by the enormity of the sea and how terrifyingly empty it can be. I have to do deck rounds in the middle of the night and I constantly think if I was to Fall or jump that would be the end of me.

Morose? Probably not as morose as the ghost we have on board!! Boats are by nature noisy things.  If you are wandering them jn the middle of the night you could be forgiven for hearing a few odd noises. That is why I was mildly startled to discover our Captain believes we have a ghost living with us. Good to know I guess. Luckily he is a friendly ghost, believe me you would not want an unfriendly ghost sharing a cabin with you.

Hmmm what else? Well I have to say I am rather fond of the crew. We are all a happy bunch. I am making mental notes and will do some crew profiles as soon as time and people permit.

One of our pre departure drills is a stow away check. Stowaways are a very real part of shipping and an opportunistic person seeking asylum or adventure might get a free ride to another country. We have had two stowaways so far. One was a garden variety bird who stopped a night and flew away. The second was an ocean going sea bird with a gammy leg. He stayed a couple of days and vanished in the night after refusing to eat a flying fish I found on deck for him. I was hereafter named the bird murderer who probably threw the bird off in the middle of the night. I did not, knowingly kill the bird.

Photo of Birdy bird(I named him that). Flash off as to not disturb his rest.

A few days later and all of the crew are starting to pine for land. The daily grind at sea is becoming more than a grind. We have not seen another vessel for days. Thankfully our ice cream stores are being replenished.

It is here I must comment on the stand out cooking of our two Chefs who have been rotating an excellent arsenal of food for us to eat. Meal times are something to look forward to. In the last week I have eaten, tuna steaks, beef wellington, prawns, chocolate fondant, cheese cake, tiramisu, chocolate brownies, berry muffins, chocolate mousse cake, a  berry crumble and a cooked breakfast every day.

The middle of the Atlantic is an incredibly large cloud factory. You can actually see large columns of water being sucked up into the sky, muddled about and viola clouds everywhere. Sadly again I did not have time to take many photos. Too busy being cool. 

Want more? Well the last two days of our trip were very painful for me. Let me tally the pain.

One torn toe nail.
Two skinned knees treated with acid and akali
Varnish fragment in right thumb
Three acid holes in left hand
Skinned big toe

This was all bought about by scrubbing the decks. There is nothing romantic about swabbing or scrubbing decks, especially when the boat is moving in the sea. Can you hear that noise? It is an ambulance with a siren that sounds like a violin.

We are in the British Virgin Islands now. First impressions; it is very hot and there is a lot of reggae, sun and smiling people. Choice.

My sincerest apologies for the long break between drinks. As you can probably imagine, integrating into a new boat with new people and new ways of doing things has been a bit more full on than traveling Europe for two months writing at my own leisure. The good news is that the crew is lovely, the boat very seaworthy and everything is going great.

We leave Barcelona tomorrow for Gibraltar. We will stop for fuel  before heading to Tenerife and more fuel. From there it is non stop to the British Virgin Islands and the Caribbean. This will be my  first Atlantic crossing. Yipee. From there on in it will be busy busy busy until New Years.

We will lose internet access soon after Tenerife but I am hoping this will give me some time to finish the slowly rising mountain of stuff that needs to be finished. Expect an avalanche,

Anyway keep reading and to borrow a Smurfs words.

“I shall soon be going where no Smurf has gone before”

Well at least not this one.

I thought it would be prudent to write about all of the writing I have yet to write.

Trans Espanic Part Tres

The final part of the self acclaimed trilogy, sees our heroes enter Vigo and the most recent meeting with El Fuerte. 

The worst rental car ever

The rolling strikes of France causing the worst rental of a car ever and the after shocks of this incredibly bad decision. 

Firenze and Milano

Some musings about the cities we have visited

B1B2 Visas for dummies 

The fool proof way to get an American B1B2 Visa, the lengths we went through and a very long rant about the lack of quality information and subsequent need for this concise guide.

We are holed up in Milano at the moment. We are going out for dinner with one of Anna’s guests from a charter she had. It probably sounds more glamorous than it will be. In saying that, it is not a bad effort for a Tuesday night.

We join our new boat tomorrow, I hope I will have a desk or at least a good amount of space by my bunk bed for my laptop. I am snowed under and it is not even snowing

Ciao!