154 miles in 22 hours all because of C19

I think because the surge rocked the boat all night, we got up a little later than anticipated. Oh my how I regretted that later on in the day. It was still pitch dark when we picked up the anchor, always a little tense when amongst other boats, but we were well on our way by 6am.

Sunrise

Me blogging!

Strange shaft of light

It took us nearly 8 hours to cross the Caicos banks, which are very shallow, and with a current flowing against us. It was a long old slog of banging into the wind with the motor on. What a relief to get off the banks and get the sails up, to head to Big Sand Cay. As we were having some lunch Rowan started looking at these sailing sites which were all talking about the various Caribbean islands closing down their borders for 15 days and not allowing boats in. We suddenly realised we had officially departed the Turks & Caicos and we might not get into any other country. I am desperate to get to the BVI, where we have my nephew who I am so looking forward to catching up with. We also have been there a few times and at least have some contacts in this closing world of C19. Rowan read that the Dominican Republic was closing to all boats at 6am tomorrow morning. Within minutes the plan and route changed. Rowan worked out if we went directly south to the Dom Rep we would have better wind direction and with these wind speeds we could be there by 5am. Jeez, how that hotted everything up, including the speed of the boat! Life jackets on and on 3 hourly rotas we went for it, knowing it was a bit of a race against time.

My nervous look!

Thank god for our satellite phone as by this stage we were well out of signal range. Rowan got hold of Phoebs and asked her to phone the closest Marina, Ocean World and to book us in, and say we would be there by 4am. She and her boyfriend nailed that and we now knew we had a berth, it was just a case of meeting the deadline. They told us the berth number and that nobody would be around to help us at that time of the morning, except the navy (maybe)! Eek!

With the wind picking up we had our fancy life jackets on and Rowan harnessed himself on at all times. I have to admit I just sit in the cabin and watch everything from there as the autopilot is on. There is a control panel I can watch and operate from there. I’m basically just looking out for traffic. It all went remarkably well, Pole Pole sailed like a dream averaging between 8 and 9 knots so all was looking good.

As we left the Caicos area and entered the Dom Rep waters it became obvious it is a shipping route. Our watches were made easier to stay awake, by having to make sure we avoided the enormous passing tankers. On your own in the dark, with the radar screen giving you all this info about the vessels around you, it is quite tense wondering where they are in the inky darkness. Of course the radar makes them feel a lot closer.

Rowan had a funny incident as we had what looked like a collision course with a tanker looming, he called the tanker on the VHF and asked if they could see us. They responded, that they could see us and asked what Pole Pole’s intentions were. So Rowan being Rowan said that we were a sail boat under sail with right of way and that we would therefore maintain our course. The reply came back ‘we are a 119m tanker which cannot change course’. So a little meekly R asked if we should get out the way and there was a single word response – ‘yes’! So that woke me up early on my 3 hour sleep, with banging sails and the motors starting, to get us promptly out of the way!

Pole Pole is the solid white marker between the solid red and white line that show our route. Dotted lines show other vessels and their direction. So the top one looks like we are going to hit. On the right is the radar warning shield and you can see the squalls of weather showing red

At about 4am we could see the Dom Rep, and felt very relieved we were going to meet our deadline. But R was extremely anxious, the wind was howling, we were going into a narrow marina in the dark and we had no idea what to expect. We finally got the sails down in huge big bouncing waves, thank god he was harnessed on as I saw him landing spectacularly on his arse when we hit an enormous wave. He then had to get fenders and ropes out on both sides to attach us to the docks. I thankfully just have to sit at the helm and watch the action, ready to press the mob button (Man Over Board for you non yachtie bookclub gang!). After passing a wonderfully lit up anchored tanker we finally saw the red and green buoys to guide us into the marina. We anxiously followed them in but still could not see the entrance until the last minute. What a relief to see a break water wall and calm waters in the marina. We finally with the use of our big torch spotted our mooring, and were grateful it was right on the end of the dock and very easy. Very funny though, as when we were having supper out at sea Rowan had told me I needed to practice lassoing, as I was going to have to lasso a bollard on the dock with our ropes as we had nobody on the dock to help us. Of course I forgot to practice! The time came and bingo my first lasso caught, at the from of the boat. Sadly it was not so good for R, six attempts later he finally got it over the rear bollard. To be fair his was a little harder as it had a box behind it that kept throwing it off. Nevertheless I was very pleased and relieved at my lassoing skills in the very tense environment!

With 15 minutes to spare now, we realised we had neither the quarantine nor Dom Rep flags flying, so got those up promptly before R rushed to the customs office. A security guard took him to the office only to find the guy asleep. Once woken he told R he should come back later, and that all was good. So much adrenaline we both collapsed in bed and woke up a few hours later feeling a little restored.