Tony has gone home, and we are stuck in English harbour for the next we while.

17.00.44N  61.45.8W

28^th February 2023

5362 miles since leaving Sandwich.

Tony has gone back to the cold in the UK leaving both Norma and myself missing him terribly. As it turned out we didn’t do nearly as much sailing as I had hoped due to the propeller and the terrible weather that we have been having.

Day 4 was spent at anchor in Five Island Bay because of strong winds from the northeast and then we moved ourselves a few miles around the headland and Fort Barrington before entering the large inlet that houses St Johns. The wind was gusting well up into the force seven bracket and had a lot of north in it making all of the usual anchorages on the starboard side as you go in untenable. Pushing ever deeper into the bay we eventually passed the cruise liner docks and squeezed into a little anchorage amongst the mangroves more or less in the centre of St Johns. With only a few small fishing boats tied up to the dock at the head of the creek this completely sheltered lagoon seemed ideal. The only problem was depth, which was only about half a meter below the keel and width which didn’t allow us to drop much chain for the anchor. The first attempt failed, with the anchor just sliding through the mud. The second was made after I pushed the bows right up into the mangroves allowing Norma to let out more chain, this seemed to hold while still leaving 20 meters or so behind us for the fishing boats to get in and out. Out with the dinghy we all three piled in and went ashore to see what we could see. Driving under the cruise ship pontoon we popped out opposite the old town quay which has been restored, gaily painted and provided with a nice wooden boardwalk along the shoreside. As soon as we got ashore we were bombarded by offers of day trips as two large cruise ships were in and the tour guides were out in force to earn some cash. Declining their offers we had a good walk around the town and a very good traditional Caribbean Roti lunch at the “Roti King” restaurant. We knew that we were on to a good thing when we saw the queue of locals getting their takeaway Roti lunches and we weren’t disappointed, it was very good and oh so filling. After lunch and a visit to the local fresh food markets we decided to go and sit in one of the small bars by the waterfront and people watch the cruise passengers doing their ant nest impersonations as they flowed back and forth up and down the pontoon. Unfortunately, this was not to be because as soon as Spectra came into view it became obvious that she had slipped back on her anchor again. Back on board we pulled the anchor and a big plastic bag out of the ooze and decided that we couldn’t trust the holding here enough to spend the night. Back out to sea again we were met by the full force of the wind and short choppy seas which to be honest was getting a bit depressing, this wasn’t the Caribbean cruising that I had envisioned for Tony’s holiday. Heading North into that wind and rain was appealing and we took the easy option by going south again round the bottom of the island and finally dropping the anchor in Carlisle Bay. Driving rain and lumpy seas the whole way plus my imagination running riot about the propeller vibration did not make for a happy Paul.

Spectra looking very small whikle slowly slipping backwards near to the cruise terminal St Johns.

Snorkelling while the rains stayed away.

Apart from the shorts you wouldn’t believe this is the Caribbean.

Day 6 found us refreshed and happy in the morning sun after a surprisingly good sleep. The wind had howled all night but after a few hours it became very evident that Spectra was not going to slip her anchor again. I had dropped 40 meters of chain initially in 5 meters of water which held us beautifully for 4 hours in quite severe wind gusts and then just to be double safe I let out another 20 before bed time. If you have the room lay the chain and why not. After breakfast we pulled all of that chain back in and motor sailed the 6 miles past Falmouth and into English harbour. Inside the entrance of English harbour on the starboard side is Freemans Bay which is the anchorage of choice and it was certainly of choice as it was packed. Just on first glance it was obviously overcrowded, yachts were literally 10 meters or even less apart and although very sheltered if the wind got up it would be carnage in there. With memories of the poor holding from our last trip in my mind I decided to give it a miss and pushed on into the harbour to investigate the two bays at its head. English harbour and Nelsons dockyard are always a joy for the boat spotter. A solid line of truly beautiful super yachts met us as we motored deeper into the bay. There was even a J Class amongst the bunch, which actually looked small next to some of the more extravagant beasts sitting stern too the dock, all being lovingly tended by their uniformed crew. Oh, to have that sort of money, I couldn’t help but think again of just what a very good job I would make of being a multi-millionaire. The two bays were likewise covered in private mooring buoys or simply had no room and seeing spaces on the dockyards the decision was made to try and go alongside. As was to become the norm we got no answer on the VHF from either Antigua slipway or Nelsons dockyard and therefore decided to drop the anchor, in a very inappropriate place, and dinghy ashore to find someone who could help. As we dropped the anchor Nelsons dockyard finally responded on VHF and although I could see at least four slots empty they couldn’t confirm a place for us until after 1500. It was only 1200 and as the anchor had already been dropped Tony and Norma put putted over to Antigua slipway to ask the question. The anchor location was so poor I stayed aboard just in case the boat needed to be moved, luckily I did as the anchor had no real chance of holding and we slowly slipped backwards until, with no sight of Norma, Tony, or the Dinghy I had to pull the anchor in and move the boat. A little while later as I cruised in slow circles in the harbour the shore party returned having managed to call the manager and get us a slot in Antigua slipway. We had to spend the first night on the fuel pontoon while a new mooring line was rigged and then first thing in the morning before the fuel station opened, we moved around to our new berth which was dwarfed by a 30 meter motor yacht beside us.

This chicken definitely wants us to choose the goat curry.

Day 7 to 12 As soon as we were moored safely, I began enquiries in earnest about fixing or replacing our propeller. Antigua slipway is a maintenance yard and Barry made great efforts to find a solution for us. The problems were, no one on the island had the equipment to balance a propeller and Barry was loathe to get a repair done without balancing. Lead times on a new propeller were in the months as opposed to weeks and the berth that we were on had a sitting tenant that could return at any time. The option offered was to get us lifted out and stored ashore while the propeller was sent to the USA for repair. Back of a cigarette calculations by myself conservatively put this option at well over $3000 by the time we had paid for lifting, taxes, storage, customs and shipping. Not only that but the timescale was also probably going to be a month at the very least and if the propeller got all of the way to America and then they said they couldn’t fix it I was back to square one, I had a dilemma. Meanwhile FRG in St Martin after initially showing interest had stopped replying to mails which is a very strange way to run a business.

As we were now stuck for a while, we hired a car and decided to make the best of it. It was Sunday and so of course Shirly heights was back on the agenda. We didn’t stay up to the end this time and only watched the steel band portion, but I still managed to drink a few Dark and Stormy’s which loosened up my hips enough to start swaying. As a side note while walking down the hill to meet our taxi I slipped on the loose gravel at  the side of the road. No damage from the fall but the tragedy was I was carrying a Rum and Ginger beer (Dark and Stormy) in my had at the time in a plastic cup. As I slipped, I squeezed and the evil brew shot out of the cup straight into my left eye. Wow that stung a bit I can tell you. Norma applied her first aid which apparently consists of pointing and laughing very loudly, can’t say that it helped much but I’m not the medical expert in these matters.

Shirley Heights looking over English harbour towards Falmouth.

The steel band who did an moving rendition of Amazing Grace.

Norma and Tony dog lovers find a doggy sanctuary along the way.

Lovers Lane Antigua style.

Tony was severely sunburnt (which Norma didn’t find funny, strange that) which meant snorkelling and beaching was probably not a good idea. We visited, Bettys hope plantation and the devils bridge from where local legend says slaves used to jump to their deaths to escape the hardships of their lives. Horrible history round here and so hard to understand from a modern perspective, how on earth could anyone enslave a fellow human being is beyond me. It wasn’t all doom and gloom though and we did have a good time just spending time with Tony. He even found a non-parent based interest while he was here and went of on a date with a girl called Roxy a few times. Norma actually stayed up waiting for him because “the roads were not safe”, he’s 35 for gods sake!!! Poor boy.

Me having a think about things at the Devils Bridge.

Not a bad local for an afternoon snifter.

The only drive I got of the car was back from the airport in the dark after dropping Tony off which was fine by me. It was a bit of an experience as Norma had forgotten her phone which has the local SIM in it meaning no satnav and no real idea where we were but w

e made it in one piece. It is very quiet on the boat now without Tony around and we have moved across the harbour to Nelsons dockyard but that’s another story which involves Plan B for the propeller repair.