I’ve written about our daily life, weather (which dictates our life), squalls, injuries, adventures, food, fishing and fun aboard avalanche as we voyaged 1600+ miles, but I haven’t finished the story. So here goes.

Once we got here at 0215 on Sunday morning we all went to bed or back to bed until after sunrise. We had all grown accustomed to operating on 6 hours off watch and then getting up, so we didn’t sleep in. We were pretty much up and about having coffee at 0800. We had a full day ahead of us and we wanted to get the work done. The first step was to launch the dinghy. We carry it in davits above the swim platform when we’re underway. Then the dinghy engine had to be lifted out of the sail locker forward and attached to the dinghy. Fortunately on avalanche we have spinnaker halyards and electric winches, so lifting the engine is a matter of careful aiming and manipulating as the halyard carries the load.

Once the dinghy was functional, the crew showered, fed and presentable, we headed to immigration to check in. Unfortunately this year that process was unnecessarily unpleasant. Normally when checking into a country only the captain may go ashore, while the crew is quarantined aboard with the yellow flag flying. Last year because of the World Cup cricket games in the Caribbean many island nations, Antigua among them, tightened their security measures. The primary change had been that every crew member had to appear at immigration in person. For that reason all 5 of us trooped over to immigration together. Well, the immigration officer on duty was on a power trip, because he read Jake the riot act about not leaving the crew quarantined on board. Jake explained that he had tried to radio immigration to learn this year’s requirements (they don’t moniter the radio). We had tried our cell phones, but Leo’s battery was dead (he’d forgotten his charger) and our’s was out of money (pay as you go). We had gotten advice from another captain on the radio that the entire crew was required to appear. Properly chastised we quietly and obediently filled out our forms. (Which we had to personally sign. So, if we had stayed on board as required, Jake would have had to pick up forms, bring them to us on the boat for signature, then return to immigration.) It was very interesting that when the supervisor came into the office power trip guy became pleasant and ingratiating. Our crime was no longer severe, but easily overlooked. In the end we were all allowed to enter Antigua.

Once officially entered we switched from the quarantine flag to the Antiguan courtesy flag and went to work. When we are offshore there is salt everywhere. Despite the fact that we go through squalls and have fresh water rinses, the bulk of the water out there is salty. Because we are all on deck and below deck, we all go through galley cabinets while making meals, we’re all at the nav desk on the computer or making log entries, and we all go into our staterooms and heads we are carrying salt on our clothing and body into the interior of the boat. Any salt left will attract moisture followed by mildew, and in 80+ degree heat that would be an unpleasant situation. So the priority is to rid the boat of the salt. We attacked the salt in 2 teams: boys outside, girls inside. The guys washed with joy, rinsed and dried everything above the waterline. Kim and I used vinegar and water on every surface inside the boat. Then, of course, heads had to be cleaned. The galley was really quite clean, after all we’d cleaned the oven after the Thanksgiving stuffing fiasco.

Once the salt was gone we all began our holiday. Leo went home. Kim, Ben, Jake and I went snorkeling over at “Nudie Beach” hunting for lobsters. Although we didn’t find any lobsters (much to Ben’s disappointment) we were pleased to see that the reef is growing again. Jake,Ben and Kim tried a little longer at Bishop’s Reef with continued lack of success. After a quick shower we headed to the museum and park at Dockyard, the historical site of Lord Nelson’s battlement, lookouts, dock and ship services, and housing. There we had a quick drink at the inn, which is part of the park before heading out for a wonderful celebration dinner that wasn’t prepared by any of us!

The next day Ben and Kim and I climbed the trail from Pigeon Beach in Falmouth Harbour to English Harbour and Dockyard. We had a nice hike, some good exercise, Ben got some great photos (some of which are posted on the web site), and we did a little touristy shopping. A good time was had by all, but, alas, the vacation was over and Ben and Kim headed for the airport. Jake and I felt deserted!

Since the crew left Jake and I have spent the last 10 days getting the boat put back into cruising condition. Anything that is extraneous to sailing the boat is stowed away while we deliver. Things like placemats, platters, the food processor, deck cushions, swim fins, the grill, the awning and dive gear are all packed away. (After all, when someone is standing at a 15 degree angle trying to keep the salad parts on the cutting board, while bumping through waves and checking the radar for squalls, how can you expect them to sort past 3 platters looking for the salad bowl?) Once we get here I have to pull those things out and stow away safety gear like jacklines, weather cloths, the ditch bag, duvets, life jackets, tethers and what seems like a big pile of other stuff, even a saw for cutting the rig apart if necessary! We’ve gotten the job done. The boat is in fine shape.

Today we brought her into the Catamaran Club Marina, where Leo will check on her daily while we are gone and take care of a couple of minor repairs. Bringing the boat into the Cat Club is always exciting and never for the faint of heart. Both Jake and I heave a big sigh of relief when she’s safely tied up. We had Leo on board to help as well as a neighboring yachtsman to help with lines. The goal was to bring avalanche in past the bows of about 20 boats to our assigned spot. Once there we were to line up with our stern to the dock and back into a spot 21′ wide. Easy, right? Not exactly. Add 25 knots of wind from the quarter (which wants to blow the bow away), realize our boat is 16′3″ wide and we have 18″ fenders on each side. That is over 19′. Meanwhile the water just off the bows of all these boats is only about 6′ deep, so you can’t bail out away from the dock. The spot we are assigned is always in about 7-8′ of water, we draw 6′ with the board up, but with the board up Jake says steering avalanche is like steering a log. It is a very nerve racking experience. Jake gets us to the spot and turns the bow away. When we’re oppositie the center of the hole I drop the anchor and let out chain as Jake backs. At that point Jake has to try to steer his log into the hole. This time he got it in really well. There was one adjustment when a gust of wind pushed the bow off course, but he was able to go forward, we could check the bow with the anchor and after that he got it straight in slick as a whistle. Looked effortless. However, we all had our fingers crossed that the wind wouldn’t blow the bow off course, that we don’t hit either of the expensive boats on each side, that the anchor chain will allow the boat to reach the dock and that the line handlers will get the lines to the dock. Sigh of relief, job well done. We put the passarelle across and hooked up the power cord and we’re home for the next couple of weeks.

Tomorrow we head back to the frozen north for Christmas and a few days before returning to avalanche for a real vacation time in the Caribbean. Please continue to check our web site because we will be adding to it in the new year as we head out–we’re thinking south toward Dominica and Martinique this year.

Meanwhile happy holidays from the crew of avalanche, Jake & Marnie

We’ve been in Antigua over a week now, and there are a few thoughts I’ve wanted to add about our trip.

First, I think you might be interested to know that while we were underway and sending blogs we never saw them. We were emailing each blog to the web site. Any photos were emailed to Ben, who posted them on the site. So once we got our internet going we were surprised and pleasantly pleased by the site and by all the comments! I actually wrote this blog (or something similar) 2 days ago, but it got lost in internet space.

For those of you who were intrigued by the “disco stars”, I hope you will read the comment by our friend Marc, who is an astronomer in Montreal. It follows the Nov 29, “Lumpy, Bumpy, Breezy” entry. According to Marc we aren’t headed to the looney bin after all.

Jake has asked me to expand on the Dec 1 “Swim Call” paragraph describing the squalls. We had squalls that we could see on the radar and on the horizon eight miles to the east of us and six miles behind us for the entire night. If our navigation hadn’t been this precise (or lucky), we would have been soaked. We could watch the squalls coming in from the east on the
radar as they marched toward us, then dissipated and dried up. There was something about the dry air around us. The ugly stormy weather just couldn’t get to us. Had we been 8 miles further east or 6 miles slower, we would have had an ugly night.

Many people have inquired about Peter’s cut finger and how bad it must have been for us to turn around. (If you are interested, Ben has posted photos of the wound on Nov 24 “Great Fishing”.) I would say that if Peter had cut himself in his wood shop at home an ER doctor would have stitched the wound, given him a tetanus shot and told him not to use it or get it wet for a week. Apparently the opportunity to make a difference in closing a wound with stitches is best within 24 hours, and Peter didn’t get to the ER until after 28 hours. Kim had done a fine job closing the wound with the steri-strips so it didn’t make sense to try to stitch it. With Peter’s wound, the danger was not with the cut itself, but with the possibility of infection because the knife had been used to filet fish. The DAN doctors on the phone, the ER doctor in Bermuda and Peter’s doctor at home all emphasized the seriousness of infection. If he got an infection it would be sudden, likely within 4 days of the cut, and it could kill him! Peter had to be close to a hospital. That’s why we had to turn around and that’s why Peter couldn’t continue with us. We’ve talked to Peter since he got home, and he says the finger is healing well and he can now use the hand as long as he doesn’t get it wet.

The last item of note is that Kim taught us all how to make toast and eggs at once in a pan: put the slice of bread with a hole in the middle in a pan, break an egg into the hole, cook it the way you like it and you’ve got breakfast in one shot. Ben has posted a photo of the egg & toast breakfast (and I suspect there’s hash underneath it all [there was!]) in his photos. It was probably part of an “O dark thirty” breakfast [it was!!!]–any breakfast eaten before sunrise has no calories, no carbs and no fat! [When Kim suggested this, I knew what she was talking about immediately. I’d seen it on TV somewhere before. I said it was “egyptian toast”. When I got home, I looked it up. Turns out it’s “Egyptian Eggs”. There are a million other fun nicknames out there for it. Either way, it was an excellent suggestion, and an easy way to keep the eggs behaving on the stove on a rolly morning.]

All the best from the remaining crew of avalanche, Jake & Marnie.

[Ben Here. I’ve added 3 clarifications in these brackets within the post. I also linked the 2 posts mentioned so it’s easier to go back and double check]

Well I’ve had a bit of time to go through some of my shots. I still have to go through my shots from Antigua. I also need to add these shots to the posts when/where they happened, but I haven’t had time yet. I’ve also added 2 new shots to the rotation up top. Enjoy:

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OK, I’ve now had enough time to add Mom and Dad’s shots from their cameras to their gallery, here are their shots:

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We made it! 0215 on December 2nd, with all hands on deck for the arrival.  Long sunny day. No fish. No wind. Tomorrow is Customs and clean-up and some sight-seeing. Monday Ben and Kim head home. Leo, of course, is now home. More to follow after Monday.

All the best from the crew of avalanche as we head to bed.

When opportunity knocks….At 0900 we had zephyrs for wind and leftover swells, bright sunshine, air temp just into the 90’s, and water temp of 82.9 degrees. Swim call! We had been motorsailing, so we rolled up the sails, throttled the engine back to neutral with a quick shift into reverse to stop the forward motion, strung a float out on about 30′ of line for holding on, and rigged loops of line for a swim ladder. Leo, of course, had long insisted that there was no way he was going swimming out of sight of land with all those big hungry fish around; so he volunteered as lifeguard and photographer. The rest of us dove right in.

The water was wonderful and so clear you could see the entire bottom of the boat (it looks really clean) and the sun’s rays going deep into the water. At first the boat continued to coast away from us and we had to keep up, but gradually it made a turn and we were surfing toward the boat. From the water it seemed as if the boat was really rolling in the swells, but once back on board we could tell it was nothing like what we had been experiencing.

We were having such a fine time,and encouraging and goading Leo to join us, that finally he did! Leo Bontiff dove into water over 19,000′ deep and lived to tell the story. If you would like to check out exactly where we were swimming go to maps.google.com and search for: 18.85, -61.99. It’s been several years since we’ve had conditions for swim call, and it’s great fun!

We’ve talked to Peter today. He took his finger to his doctor, who thought it was healing very nicely. In fact he wanted to remove the steri-strips to take the stitches out. Peter had to quickly point out that there were no stitches–only steri strips. Fine job by Kim. He can’t use the hand for another week, a definite problem for a carpenter and father of 2 boys! Peter’s doctor reenforced the danger of infection, keeping him on antibiotics for another week, and warning him that if he has any joint pain he should go immediately to an ER (not just to his doctor). (Come on, everyone over 50 who has just been sailing offshore has joint pain. What is that doctor thinking?)

On to the fishing contest: The lines are out. Score currently Peter and Ben 5, Jake & Leo 0, fish 4. (Ben had another bite this morning, but they lost the fish.) Needless to say, Jake and Leo have great expectations. We’ll keep you posted. We’re still brainstorming the flag representing the fish that got away. How about a cartoon fish holding the lure with a raised victory fist, or fish holding person on a lure and raised victory fist. We’re looking for suggestions here.

Yesterday afternoon the winds and seas moderated a very little, but gradually by midnight we were motor sailing and this morning it was calm enough for our swim. During the night we continued to have the threat of squalls, and continued to roll up the sails and start up the engine all night long, but lucky for us it never did rain! The squalls were constant to the left of us and behind us, but dried up before they got to us. We’ve got 58 miles the north end of Barbuda and another 50 into Falmouth Harbour. We expect to get there sometime in the middle of the night.

Meanwhile, the crew of avalanche is having the kind of day that makes a trip like this worthwhile: relaxing in the sun, reading, eating, napping and wishing we’d catch a fish. 18 degrees 42 minutes N latitude, 61 degrees 56 minutes W longitude or on maps.google.com 18.70,-61.93.