STRANDED IN THE VIRGIN ISLANDS
We're stranded on a broken boat, surrounded by water. We don't have any sails on our masts, and only one engine works. We can move forward, but trying to reverse is almost pointless, as we only spin counter clockwise with negligible movement backwards. There are currents, combined with a head wind, that render us nearly motionless. We fight the elements, and finally secure a mooring in a large cove. There are many dangerous outcroppings of rocks around us. If we break free, we're done for.
The wind is swirling from every direction, twisting us about at it's will. We point south, then east. Back south, then north. The next gust spins us pointing west. We shouldn't be pointing west. Clouds form, darkening the sky. Now it's raining, inside the boat.
"Rain!" This word gets everyone scrambling to close hatches and port lights so we don't have wet sheets when it's time for bed, or soaking counters, cushions, and floors. Five hatches and five port lights are secured. The rain increases, the wind picks up, and water starts to penetrate the seals. We're taking on water!
Land is in sight, but we can't reach it safely. The wind would have it's way with us. The army of urchins that protect the shallows won't allow us to wade to the beach. The fire coral clinging to shallow rocks would send pain through our bodies should we get too close. We're stuck on this boat.
We provisioned a few days ago, and desalinated water yesterday. At least we have food and drink, for a while, anyway. Our batteries can't keep up with the demand of the fridges, and we don't point in the same direction long enough to get a full charge from our solar panels. The wind is coming in gusts, then dead calm, making the efforts of the wind generator pointless. The alternator on our one good engine is not charging.
How are we going to get through this? Have we made a mistake? Have I put my family in danger of drowning if the boat sinks, or starvation if our food rots from lack of cooling? I'm spent. I can't do this anymore.
Write creatively, that is. What you just read is all I had in my creative fuel tank for today. It's never been my strong suit. In reality, we're doing well. All of the above perils are true, but if my family is going to die of anything, it's going to be of massive frustration over shoddy internet here. According to speedtest.net, we're humming along at 0.64 Mbps to be exact. That's not a typo. That's about 100 times slower than average DSL. Yay.
Yes, we have a broken engine, and we haven't put our sails back up. Yes, the wind is doing strange things. Yes, we're taking on water (I've been battling drips from a few windows and hatches). Yes, there is an army of urchins, and fire coral standing between us and the beach. And, yes, our batteries aren't keeping up, especially on cloudy days. But, we do have a nice generator that gets us back to fully charged when we need it, and runs our water maker flawlessly. The food is safe, including Lisa's chocolate ice cream.
We're currently on a mooring in Christmas Cove, Great St James, USVI. Right here, to be exact. We moved the boat over here several weeks ago with the help (guidance and reassurance) of our friends Kevin and September, who operate As You Wish Adventures. The ride over from Red Hook was slow, and then we hit the current between Great St James and Current Rock. It seemed like we came to a standstill. In reality we were probably progressing at about 3 1/2 knots over a 3 knot current, netting us about ½ knot forward progress. I accelerated a bit, and we made it through the cut and into the cove.
We picked up the only mooring available at the time, which was a 45 lb anchor with chain and rode (rope attached to the anchor chain, or anchor). Kevin and September walked us through the process of picking up a mooring, and then helped Lisa secure us with our bridle. Time to snorkel!
The first two weeks on this mooring were great, with little wind blowing in the cove. It's a little close to shore and some rocks, but in calm conditions it's great. Then things changed.
We had been getting progressively higher winds, and it was not from a constant direction (it was almost always from the south prior to this, keeping us away from the rocks). We were planning on taking the dinghy in to provision the next day, so it was a bit concerning how often we were swinging. I had shored up about 10 feet of rode from the mooring to keep us at a safer distance, but there was a continuous anxious eye on where we were and if we were moving. I was also getting tired of diving this mooring anchor every time the wind changed to an opposite direction to make sure the point was still dug in. At least Lisa was appreciative of my efforts.
I heard God speak that evening. "You should toss your anchor out." We hadn't used our anchor before, and I was unsure whether the windlass (an electric winch used to pull the anchor back in) worked well enough to hoist the anchor. I was a little hesitant because it was something brand new to me, but as I explained here, I do my best to listen and be obedient when God speaks. I also recalled Kevin saying, after we inspected the mooring anchor, "If you throw out your anchor too, you guys won't go anywhere." Two wise suggestions shouldn't go unheeded.
Out it went. We were in a light wind from the south, so our anchor went out not too far from the mooring anchor we were already on. I let out plenty of scope (amount of chain or chain and rode) to match the other. We held well that night, and the next day while we were gone into town. The following morning, however, we seemed awfully close to the rocks again.
I woke up just after sunrise, and headed outside. We were getting a steady wind from the north, with some heavy gusts. One of the two, if not both, anchors had drug overnight in the worst possible direction. I hung out in the cockpit while Lisa was still asleep, ready to start the engine to motor away from the rocks if we started to slip any further.
Once she was up, I suggested that we try to move to one of the open moorings near us. We talked for a few minutes, and agreed that the move would be difficult in the wind conditions on one engine, but that the stress relief to be off of that anchor mooring would be well worth it. We laid out a plan, with each family member having their set of responsibilities.
Lisa and I went over the plan: Michael will start the engine, and ease forward into the wind while Lisa uses the windlass to choke up on our anchor chain, thus taking the tension off of the mooring. When slack is off of our mooring bridle, Lisa will release our bridle from the mooring and secure it on the front deck. We'll continue forward slowly, using the windlass to bring up the anchor. Lauren will be standing by, in case the anchor chain piles up awkwardly in the anchor locker, and prevent the windlass from jamming. Once the anchor is secure, we'll continue forward to the next closest mooring. Alyssa will have a bowline that is secured to the port bow ready in hand. As we approach, Lisa will grab the mooring lead line with the boat pole, and pull up the mooring loop. Alyssa will hand over the bow line, which Lisa will run through the loop, and secure on the starboard bow, for a quick and easy attachment. Michael will then come forward and help secure the bridle on the mooring loop for our permanent attachment.
We went over the plane one more time, pointing to each component and calling it by it’s name. The plan seemed reasonable, and we didn’t seem to be missing any steps, so we called Lauren and Alyssa out to go over it two more times. The girls had a good grasp on their responsibilities, and seemed ready to go. In my estimation, we had about 20 knot winds at this point with gusts around 25 knots.
I tested the windlass, and it pulled up and piled chain without hesitation. I hoped that it would also hoist the anchor without hesitation. If I had to come forward to hoist it by hand, it would put a major hiccup in our plan. We prepped the bowline, and I went back to the cockpit and started the engine.
We eased forward, and Lisa did a great job of getting us off of the mooring, and bringing in the anchor. The windlass performed flawlessly, hoisting the anchor all the way into it’s track. This could be documented as a miracle, as it’s the first thing on this boat that has worked as expected the first go ‘round.
We continued forward, and Lisa used the boat hook as a pointer to guide me to the mooring ball. As we approached, our inertia carried us too far past the mooring lead. Lisa was able to grab it, but couldn’t maintain it on the hook with our momentum. Now the fun begins.
Did I mention we can only turn counter clockwise in reverse on one engine, with hardly any rearward motion? We lost the mooring on our starboard side, which meant any reverse pulled the bow further away. I fiddle with the controls, straightened us out a bit, and let the wind push us back. We lined the mooring back up, and gave it another shot. I eased off of the throttle much sooner this time, and Lisa grabbed the mooring lead that is tied to an empty gallon jug like a pro. Alyssa quickly handed her the bowline, I dropped us in neutral, and scrambled up front to help. Two minutes later, we were nicely secured (or so I thought) to the mooring. High fives all around!
Everyone relaxed a bit, and decided that after all of that stress, we would take the day off from school. I set up the water maker on the aft deck, and desalinated about 70 gallons for the upcoming week. 8 gallons of drinking water in jugs, and the rest in the water tanks. Lisa and I talked a little about how things went, and what could be done next time to make it smoother. I learned in my former career that a good debriefing is always a good idea.
Fast forward a few days. Our previously mentioned friends, Kevin and September, came out to Christmas Cove in their catamaran for the weekend. There was an open mooring near us, so we putted over in the dinghy, tied off, and snorkeled for a few minutes until they arrived. After we visited for a few minutes, we loaded back up and headed to our boat.
The next afternoon, September came over to our boat for a visit, while Kevin ventured to town in the dinghy on some errands. We went for a swim to cool off, and snorkel a bit. Once we were done, everyone rinsed off, and I headed to the forward deck to catch a few rays and dry off. What a great day this was. New friends close by, a cool breeze, warm sun, and a gorgeous ocean around us. Then I heard Him speak. “Check your mooring.”
Check my mooring? I thought I was done with that when we moved to this one. I already dove this thing four or five times. It’s about as secure as it’s going to get, and I’ve watched boats twice our size hang out on it through some pretty good gales. It came again. “Check your mooring.”
Sure, whatever, I’ll check my mooring. I stood up and walked over to the port bow. I noticed that the milk jug on the lead line was wrapped around that side of the bridle. Really God? I’m out here checking my mooring for a twisted milk jug? Ok, I’ll untangle it, so it doesn’t pop the cap off or something.
I started to pull on the port bridle line, and notice something didn’t look right in the water. We were way too far from the mooring ball, and weren’t centered like we should be. As I looked closer, my brain made sense out of what I was looking at. The only thing holding us on that mooring was the lead line and jug twisted twice around our port bridle line. I had a quick moment of panic. Luckily, we were in very light winds, so the twist was holding.
I called to the cockpit for Lisa. “Babe, I need your help really quick!” I didn’t want to alarm anyone, but I was kinda freaked out. We could come loose at any minute, sending us drifting into other boats, potentially causing damage. At the very minimum, we’d be looking like idiots!
Lisa came up front as I was gently pulling in the bridle, then the lead line. There was enough wind that there was quite a bit of resistance, and holding us by hand was a bit difficult. She quickly grabbed a bow line, and we ran it through the mooring loop and secured it to both bow cleats. Phew!
A quick description of our mooring bridle: We have two bow lines that are about eight feet in length, each attached to it’s bow cleat. These lines both meet, and are shacked to a ring. Also shacked to the ring is the main line, about 4 feet in length, which we run through the mooring loop, and then shackle the free end back on the ring. Three lines, four shackles, one ring. Obviously it has failure points.
I pulled in our bridle, and saw that one of shackles on our main mooring line was missing it’s pin, allowing our main line to unloop from the mooring loop. What the heck?! That’s not supposed to happen! I was able to put the free end on one of the bowline shackles to secure it for the time being. Kevin was still near one of the marina stores, and brought us back a replacement shackle. Everything was right again.
For the next couple of days, I couldn’t help but continue to play a short film over and over again in my head of how horribly wrong things could have gone for us had I not been prompted to peek at our mooring. If we had come free in the middle of the night, we wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until were slamming into another boat, or crashing into rocks. Either way, there would have been damage.
It would have been pitch dark, we would have been disoriented. Trying to get back to a mooring, if we could even move the boat, would have been a nightmare at best. I can’t even begin to put into words how grateful I am that God is on our side, and watches out for us. I’m not intending to be preachy, I’m just telling you my reality. This isn’t the first time a potential disaster has been prevented by a nudge from Him.
We’ve had our challenges over the past few weeks and months, there’s no doubt about that. We are, in reality, stranded in the Virgin Islands until we can get a rebuilt engine shipped and installed. This has proven more difficult than I figured it would be, but I knew it was a possibility when I first looked at the boat way back in October. We could, and probably will, island hop between those within a short distance of St Thomas, but we won't start heading back to Florida until we have two functional engines.
We’re continuing to work on the boat, and she’s slowly coming together on the interior. We’re saving the majority of exterior work until we can get somewhere a little less expensive. I’ll get some before and after pics and/or video up soon. The transformation is pretty unbelievable. Here's a sneak peek.
So, in the mean time, we’ll continue boat schooling, and enjoying each other’s company. We’ll also continue enjoying snorkeling, paddle boarding, and rides in the dinghy. And the sunsets? Yeah, I guess they’re ok too.
