I confess that ever since I got on the boat in Trinidad, I’ve been entertaining a fantasy where someone takes one look at our boat in Martinique and makes us an offer for her we simply cannnot refuse. That obviously did not happen, although we did test the waters by talking to a boat broker in the marina there.
The good news is, when we do decide to sell (and no, that decision has not yet been made), there is definitely a market for our boat. But it will take time, and that’s something we don’t have at the moment. I need to head to the States ASAP and Patrice has appointments next week in Saint Martin. We could have left T3 in Martinique (which is what we would’ve done if we were sure we were ready to sell her), but it’s unfamiliar territory for her and in Trinidad we have people we can trust to look after her while we’re away. So we’ve decided to bring her back to Crew’s Inn while we mull things over.
6 am, Tuesday, March 26, 2019: We’re up and ready to go. The wind and wave forecast is a little stronger than we would like, but we figure T3 can handle it and once we get past the strait between Martinique and Saint Lucia we know we’ll be protected. Our plan is to yellow flag it down to Trinidad stopping in Piton Bay in Saint Lucia, Bequia in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, and from there go straight to Trinidad overnight—a 28 hour journey. That would get us to Crew’s Inn by Friday afternoon (remember what I said in my last post about a sailor’s plans being written in the sands at low tide? Wait for it...).
By 8 am we’ve taken on fuel and water for the journey and we’re out of the channel ready to hoist the sails to head south (checking carefully for fishing buoys, stray ropes and all manner of nuisances, of course). The winds, as expected are 20+ knots, so we decide not to put up the main sail for this downwind journey. Patrice unfurls the head sail, however, unbeknownst to us, the port side jibsheet (rope) had lost the knot at its end which stops it from being fully released, and it breaks free, tangling itself like a crazy snake around the starboard jibsheet, whipping the boat ferociously. Meanwhile the sail is flapping wildly and the wind is gusting 25+ knots. What a mess! I’m at the helm and Patrice goes up to the foredeck to try to get things under control without getting flogged. We eventually get things under control, but not without a few bruises and lashes. Not an auspicious beginning to our journey...
We catch our breath, reset the sail and continue our journey south. By the time we hit the halfway point between Martinique and Saint Lucia, it is clear that we have largely underestimated the forecast. The swells were predicted at 2 to 3.6 meters. The waves we are being hit with are all at least 3.6 meters high and coming at us relentlessly from the side in very short intervals and the winds are gusting well over 25 knots. Consequently T3 is being tossed from side to side, corkscrewing if you will, as it tries to remain upright. I. HAVE. NEVER. BEEN. SO. FRIGHTENED on this boat. And that’s saying a lot! For 45 minutes—45 VERY LONG minutes—T3 and her captain battle the waves, while I hold on for dear life, until we finally reach the blessed calm in the lee of Saint Lucia and we breathe a sigh of relief thanking God for carrying us through.
Once again T3 showed us her mettle and did not let us down in extremely tough conditions. When we got through it, we're shaken up, our muscles are aching from the strain and we're a bit spooked, but we're ok, and the boat sustained no damage. And, because she sits so high in the water, we didn’t even get wet. We’re very proud of our girl.
I’d also like to thank the large seabird, a Brown Booby (no, I’m not making that name up), whom we nicknamed Betty, and who accompanied us throughout that passage, circling the mast, hovering at times, and then plunge-diving spectacularly to get a fish. She provided us with much-needed entertainment at a very difficult time. I’m convinced she knew I was terrified and needed the distraction.
The good news is, when we do decide to sell (and no, that decision has not yet been made), there is definitely a market for our boat. But it will take time, and that’s something we don’t have at the moment. I need to head to the States ASAP and Patrice has appointments next week in Saint Martin. We could have left T3 in Martinique (which is what we would’ve done if we were sure we were ready to sell her), but it’s unfamiliar territory for her and in Trinidad we have people we can trust to look after her while we’re away. So we’ve decided to bring her back to Crew’s Inn while we mull things over.
6 am, Tuesday, March 26, 2019: We’re up and ready to go. The wind and wave forecast is a little stronger than we would like, but we figure T3 can handle it and once we get past the strait between Martinique and Saint Lucia we know we’ll be protected. Our plan is to yellow flag it down to Trinidad stopping in Piton Bay in Saint Lucia, Bequia in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, and from there go straight to Trinidad overnight—a 28 hour journey. That would get us to Crew’s Inn by Friday afternoon (remember what I said in my last post about a sailor’s plans being written in the sands at low tide? Wait for it...).
By 8 am we’ve taken on fuel and water for the journey and we’re out of the channel ready to hoist the sails to head south (checking carefully for fishing buoys, stray ropes and all manner of nuisances, of course). The winds, as expected are 20+ knots, so we decide not to put up the main sail for this downwind journey. Patrice unfurls the head sail, however, unbeknownst to us, the port side jibsheet (rope) had lost the knot at its end which stops it from being fully released, and it breaks free, tangling itself like a crazy snake around the starboard jibsheet, whipping the boat ferociously. Meanwhile the sail is flapping wildly and the wind is gusting 25+ knots. What a mess! I’m at the helm and Patrice goes up to the foredeck to try to get things under control without getting flogged. We eventually get things under control, but not without a few bruises and lashes. Not an auspicious beginning to our journey...
We catch our breath, reset the sail and continue our journey south. By the time we hit the halfway point between Martinique and Saint Lucia, it is clear that we have largely underestimated the forecast. The swells were predicted at 2 to 3.6 meters. The waves we are being hit with are all at least 3.6 meters high and coming at us relentlessly from the side in very short intervals and the winds are gusting well over 25 knots. Consequently T3 is being tossed from side to side, corkscrewing if you will, as it tries to remain upright. I. HAVE. NEVER. BEEN. SO. FRIGHTENED on this boat. And that’s saying a lot! For 45 minutes—45 VERY LONG minutes—T3 and her captain battle the waves, while I hold on for dear life, until we finally reach the blessed calm in the lee of Saint Lucia and we breathe a sigh of relief thanking God for carrying us through.
Once again T3 showed us her mettle and did not let us down in extremely tough conditions. When we got through it, we're shaken up, our muscles are aching from the strain and we're a bit spooked, but we're ok, and the boat sustained no damage. And, because she sits so high in the water, we didn’t even get wet. We’re very proud of our girl.
I’d also like to thank the large seabird, a Brown Booby (no, I’m not making that name up), whom we nicknamed Betty, and who accompanied us throughout that passage, circling the mast, hovering at times, and then plunge-diving spectacularly to get a fish. She provided us with much-needed entertainment at a very difficult time. I’m convinced she knew I was terrified and needed the distraction.
But the day is not over for us. A few hours later, as we enter the bay of Pitons, we hear a loud thunk from under the boat and as we look back, we see what looks like a short piece of bamboo pop out from under the stern. The engine immediately takes on a strange vibration and our hearts sink with dread. Shortly afterwards, we manage to get ourselves on a mooring ball without too much difficulty (the reverse is functioning, thank God) and once again, Patrice dives below to have a look… Yep, we’ve picked up another line….(sigh).
Thankfully this time, it’s wrapped around one of the rudders (T3 has two, one on each side) and comes off easily and there appears to be no damage, but still…ENOUGH! (When I tell this story to our cruising friends, they thank us for our service in clearing the ocean of stray lines and buoys for them—a service, I must inform them, we are no longer willing to continue).
Thankfully this time, it’s wrapped around one of the rudders (T3 has two, one on each side) and comes off easily and there appears to be no damage, but still…ENOUGH! (When I tell this story to our cruising friends, they thank us for our service in clearing the ocean of stray lines and buoys for them—a service, I must inform them, we are no longer willing to continue).
At this point I’m ready to put a very large FOR SALE sign on the boat and jump ship. However, we’re not exactly in a place where that can be easily done, so for the moment, I’m stuck. I wish I could say that the rest of the night was as idyllic as a Caribbean anchorage should be, but the winds were blowing a stink and it was rock and roll all night long (and not in a good way). While we were having dinner, a large sailboat suddenly drifted within a few feet past us! They had lost their mooring and were set adrift (yeah that happens sometimes). Thankfully they did not hit us and there was a full crew onboard taking care of the situation.
By morning, the winds are still gusting fiercely. We had not slept much and were so exhausted that we knew that we needed to take shelter somewhere until this weather front passed. Cruising friends had recommended Marigot Bay, just few miles north of us, which means back-tracking as well as scrapping our original float plan, but we had no desire to risk any more dramas on the high seas.
It was a good decision, and by noon we are anchored in a sheltered cove on a lagoon as a still as a lake—bliss! Moreover, we decide to take a mooring belonging to a local resort which gives us pool privileges at the hotel along with all the amenities.
By morning, the winds are still gusting fiercely. We had not slept much and were so exhausted that we knew that we needed to take shelter somewhere until this weather front passed. Cruising friends had recommended Marigot Bay, just few miles north of us, which means back-tracking as well as scrapping our original float plan, but we had no desire to risk any more dramas on the high seas.
It was a good decision, and by noon we are anchored in a sheltered cove on a lagoon as a still as a lake—bliss! Moreover, we decide to take a mooring belonging to a local resort which gives us pool privileges at the hotel along with all the amenities.
You are kindly informed that the Captain and Crew of Taka Trois have gone AWOL on an enforced much-needed vacation, doing the things that normal people do on a Caribbean vacation (sipping umbrella drinks by the pool, for example), until the wind and seas calm down.
Next up: Boat for Sale?
Next up: Boat for Sale?
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