Time Out

We've just returned to the island  after two months of camping in the Rocky Mountains.  We had Dooley the Demented with us and it was quite the experience.  He's still talking about it, in fact. Now we're back and finding out that trying to pick up where one left off can be tricky in a place like this.   Things change quickly here without constant attention.  All four disc brake rotors on the car rusted themselves silly and immobile while parked inside the garage, for example. Rainy season erosion has run unchecked and the driveway looks like a quarter scale version of Palo Duro. The house electricity was turned off for ten days before we returned home.   I've thought of several phrases to try to describe the very organic experience of cleaning out a freezer full of rotting meat after a week and a half without refrigeration.  In the tropics. I think the kindest thing for me to do here is just to leave it at that and not to even mention the similarities to falling face down in bovine road kill.

One thing that quickly caught our attention was how much further south the sun is appearing and disappearing over the horizon, almost ten weeks after we last saw it.

The islands have almost made it to the end of another hurricane season.  And the lucky streak continues. There were  several credible threats, some winds and a lot of rain, but the strongest storms to blow through the islands this year stayed just shy of hurricane status.  And Tropical Storms are quite enough on their own, thanks.   Ten inches of rain doing fifty miles an hour may not be a hurricane, but it's enough to make you scrunch your eyes up  into little slits the thickness of paper when you're trying to walk face first into it. We were delayed two days on our flight out due to the presence of Tropical Storm Cristobal. It made quite the ugly annoyance out of itself.  The evening before our scheduled flight out we stopped by Bob's Bar one last time before our trip. It was all closed up against the raging storm, but we managed to all huddle into the lee for drinks and hor d'oeuvres.  I wish I had taken a photo of that.   I did manage to snap a photo of Nevarde and La Gringa inside the closed up bar area.   The party was on the other side of that wall behind them.  We opened that up once the immediate squall went looking for us downwind.

We continued to work on our old sailboat right up into the end of August. We experienced  Tropical Storms Arthur, Bertha, and then Cristobal, with some admittedly diminishing enthusiasm.  We  finally packed up and left while Cristobal was still blowing, in fact.  That's a story in itself.  I think I'll save that one for the paperback.

 We toyed with the idea of leaving the boat in the water and continuing to work on her unless a major storm threatened. We go through plenty of years here without major storms scoring a direct hit, although they whoosh by to the sides of us all season long. We've gone through three hurricanes of note since we moved here, but all three of those occurred in a two year window. The other seven years we've been living here we had no hurricanes at all. So we were considering taking the chance and hoping that if we needed to haul the boat that the good folks over at Caicos Marina and Shipyard would have room for us on short notice.  And of course that's a gamble in itself. A few weeks of this stuff takes a lot of the fun out of tropical living.   Here's a still image from one of the videos we took during a tropical storm.

Well, the season drug on. All the cruisers with any sense were long gone to someplace safe. Bob  had asked us several times what our plans for the boat were. We looked down the dock, and felt a bit strange to be the last cruiser still in the marina. Kind of like being the last to leave the party.

We'd already begun winding down our flow of supplies and equipment ordered from the US. We got to the point where the Fed Ex truck only stopped by the house three or four times a week. Yeah, we're on a first name basis with the Fed Ex delivery man.

In July we anxiously watched as what later became Hurricane Arthur approached. In early August we closed up and hunkered down while what became Bertha came lumbering across the Atlantic at us. Then in late August we had Cristobal shut us down for several days. And each time we worried about the boat. Should we haul it, or can we control our anxiety long enough to chance another storm? It's not much fun watching these things come right at you while trying to appear normal on a diet of caffeine, fingernails and cheek lining.  Besides, it was getting kind of lonely there at the marina with only a single ferry cat for the perpetually re-stalled West Caicos development, and a few local fishing boats for company.

We were still enjoying our evenings watching the sunset at Bob's Bar, but storm clouds were gathering, again. It is that season, after all.

We finally decided we'd had enough hurricane and uninsured boat anxiety for one season and we took the boat out of the water for a couple of months. We showed up early one late summer morning in August to untie the lines from South Side Marina for the last time in this '13-'14 yachting season. The little diesels awoke with their usual puff of white smoke drifting across the smooth morning water. The smoke is really just steam that fades as they warm up with a rattly little diesel rumble that smooths out about the same time the smoke disappears. The vibrations of the still cool engines shake the hulls like drum heads and cause ripples in the water next to them. You can see them here, in the water just under the blue fender. Bob, we need to talk about that last tie-up cleat.

 

La Gringa had things ashore to do, so I took the boat around to the boatyard without a crew. At least I think that's what she was referring to by calling me crewless. Or maybe it just sounded like crewless, my hearing isn't all that great. I know this is really a small catamaran as these things go, but it's still a strange feeling to be alone on it when I'm accustomed to someone else on board to help with lines and fenders and watching the water.   It just doesn't feel right not to have someone else to shout at and blame things on.   But we had delayed what we knew we should have already taken care of. We have absolutely no incentive to take chances with this boat, and the best place for it during hurricane season is strapped down to the dirt a few steps away from the ocean. I backed the boat out of the slip and turned her to the open water. Pretty easy in an empty marina.

 

 

It's also pretty easy backing out when both engines work. This twin engine capability has been a rarity in our history with this boat. 

The fishermen on board the other boats waved as I slowly motored past. They've watched us working on this boat for the past ten months. It's a pretty small community here. And our friend Stanley (aka Burleigh) lives on the last boat on the left as we leave the marina.

 

 

I've already bumped a hull off one shallow rock out here that surprised me, so I take it very slow and easy until I'm out in deeper water. Here's one of the outer buoys marking the entrance to South Side Marina. After I clear this one I turn hard to the left and head east for several miles through coral heads and rocks. You know, the usual.

 

 

I hadn't really thought my way through the logistics of taking the boat east early in the day. The sun was low and the reflection on the water essentially blinded me to what was directly ahead of the boat. I should know better. Especially without another pair of eyes to help me spot the coral heads. I was having a real hard time trying to discern what was under that glare.   And the way these things work, the glare was  continuously and directly hovering exactly where I was heading next.  Can you spot all the coral heads between me and that distant point of land?    No.  Me either.   And that's the problem.   

The next time I need to make this trip I hope I remember to schedule it for early afternoon, to give the sun time to rise higher before I leave the marina.

After about an hour of white knuckled squinting  I passed the mysterious rock figures on the little hill overlooking the entrance to Caicos Marina and Shipyard. Finally, I was able to turn so that I wasn't being blinded. I could stop munching on the top of my heart every time a dark mass of rocks slid by seemingly just millimeters from the hull. Finally, I could turn into the entrance to the boatyard. I had a 10:00 appointment to haul the boat. I was there at 09:58.

 

 

La Gringa was watching my hopefully unexciting progress from the house. I think she knew that I was being optimistic about my appointment at the shipyard. I also think that she was also a little hesitant to haul the boat out and stop our forward progress.  There's just something counter intuitive about putting your summer toys away in August. Especially in a place where a totally acceptable version of summer pretty much runs year round.

 

The boat did not get hauled as planned. Despite my three weeks on the calendar appointment, they slipped two other boats in front off me. Here's a photo of Twisted Sheets tied up over at the Shipyard, still waiting to be hauled in the late afternoon. Silly old me had made an appointment to have the boat hauled at 10:00 in the morning, and had actually been there waiting at 10:00. And I was still waiting six hours later, when they shut down for the evening. We had to leave the boat overnight, and go through it again the next day. Someone who didn't know me might have mistaken me for irate. It was actually worse than that. 

 

But hey, it's island life, mon. You get over these things. Eventually.  Even on something like this, the third time it's happened.

 

We were back at the yard the next morning, and this time we managed to get the boat hauled out. They have workers  on hand to haul the boat into the slip. We back it in because it fits in the travel lift better. The forestays rub against it if we go in forward. These guys have a lot of experience pulling boats around by their lines.

 

 

Finally the boat is centered in the slings under the travel lift.

 

I've already posted plenty of photos of Twisted Sheets being transported around the Caicos Marina & Shipyard, so won't' repeat that here.   Finally, about 26 hours after my appointment to have the boat hauled and blocked, she was hauled and blocked.  This should be a pretty good spot to ride out all but the roughest of seas over the next few months.

That was basically some of the last things we did before leaving for over two months.   We had a lot of things to do at the house, of course.  Almost as much trouble as the boat.   And they're both more trouble than a simple camping trailer. Lately I've noticed that most of our lifestyle choices seem to incorporate some difficulty in keeping a full set of appliances running.

We are about to put the boat back in the water, and we have a lot of plans for some totally new areas to explore over the next few months.  So the blog should be improving again shortly.

We haven't been back long enough to accumulate some good new sunset photos, so I'll have to make do with one taken right before we left.    Unless, of course, you want to see photos of northern Colorado instead of tropical sunsets.  

Nah, I didn't think so.

"Treasure Seeker"

I hope you can tolerate a brief departure from our usual photos of the TCI. This time of year after hurricane season the cruiser and passing-through boat traffic down here picks up enormously. And for some reason we seem to keep getting involved in it. I thought I would stick a little post in here to give you a better idea of the type of things we get mixed up in. You know, when not out kayaking and taking photos of La Gringa's braids and Dooley the Demented swimming in circles.

Some of you might remember this photo from the previous blog post, back when I didn't know anything at all about this mysterious silhouette being towed into the Caicos Marina and Boatyard. I had an idea that the name of the boat was the "Treasure" something or other but that's pretty much all we knew at that time. I just posted the photo under the generally vague category of 'strange ships that pass by our home and that we don't know diddly about'. Or something like that. We do get a few of those as you well know.



Now of course we know a whole lot more about it. (Of course you knew that, didn't you? Because otherwise I wouldn't be bringing it up again.)

Let me tell you this story and what has developed so far. Because there is likely more to come.

It all started for us one day when we heard the characteristically noisy transmission from a U.S. Coast Guard helicopter coming in through our marine VHF radio at the house. The USCG air crew was calling a boat named (we know now) the "Treasure Seeker". Our first thought was that they were interested in some boat engaged in some activity or other that would be the kind of activity this kind of boat might engage in that would interest the Coast Guard. Does that make sense? Good, because I don't want to re-write it.

We then heard a second call from the helicopter asking the "Treasure Seeker" for its present location. Then we realized that the USCG was actively looking for the boat and not looking at the boat. I mean, if they were hovering overhead they wouldn't need to ask the boat where it was located.

(The Treasure Seeker tied up alongside at the Caicos Marina and Boatyard:)



We couldn't hear the responses from the boat, but that's not unusual. Our VHF antenna is between 70 and 75 ft. above sea level and we commonly get 40-50 mile range to other radios with high antennas. Such as helicopters in flight. The boat's antenna would have been below the horizon to us.

The next time we heard the name "Treasure Seeker" was again on the radio a day or so later. This time the boat was under tow near Providenciales. Of course we remembered the name, and were happy to hear it was close by and that no helicopters were involved. A few hours later, that boat being towed by the tug "L'il Lew" came by and I snapped the photo. And later, posted it on this blog.

La Gringa was out that afternoon taking sunset pictures and she liked the way the setting sun was shining off the glazing of the boats in the marina. We still didn't know the story of this boat, but figured they had engine trouble or something like that. Here's another one of La Gringa's telephoto pix of the scene just as the sun was setting:



The next day the story started getting more interesting. Someone who reads this blog had seen photos of this boat on yet another blog and he wrote us a comment on our previous post with a link to that blog with the photos and some of the story. Now we knew the boat was headed all the way down to the US Virgin Islands, and that it is going to become a pirate-themed excursion boat. We still didn't know much about the USCG helicopters involvement or why the boat was under tow. But the plot was definitely thickening.

La Gringa posted a comment on John Samford's blog, with a link to this blog and the photo of the now identified Treasure Seeker. We kinda figured that would be the end of that. We did discuss driving over to the Boatyard to take a look. And probably wouldn't have, except....

We then received an email from Betsy in Florida. She knew all about this boat because her husband Ray is the Captain and owner. Betsy told us in her email that John Samford had forwarded the link that he had been sent by La Gringa after we had received the comment from "D" with the link to John Samford's blog that talked about the Treasure Seeker. (Whew. Can I do 'run-on sentence' or what?)

Betsy told us that Ray had set the EPIRB off on the boat and the Coast Guard had called her. She gave them the coordinates she had from Ray's EPIRB beacon. An "EPIRB" (as explanation for those who don't have to worry about getting lost at sea) is an "Emergency Position-Indicating Radio Beacon" in general, and a "SPOT" personal beacon in this particular case. Betsy also gave us Ray's phone number and told us he had been having an interesting trip so far. Being rescued from harrowing experiences by the Coast Guard and all. We can easily imagine what being stranded at the Boatyard is like, since we adopted some cruisers who were stuck over there for a month last season. We decided to check this out.

Betsy put us in contact with Ray, and we drove over to the Boatyard to meet him and to see his boat. And to find out what was going on, of course.

I think I got that all written down in correct order. So far. Now this all happened over the course of about a week. We did the Conch Festival thing on Saturday and did not get Betsy's first email until we were home that night. We were down to meet Ray on Sunday morning.

You will have read some details of the Treasure Seeker's past life as an automobile ferry in the Great Lakes of the USA in that link I posted above. Well, this is what she looks like right now:



Ray has changed the ferry into a steel pirate ship complete with masts, crow's nests, ratlines, bowsprit, figurehead and all sorts of pirate goodies.

Ray gave us a tour of the boat. And of course, over lunch at the Conch Shack, we got the rest of the story, so far.

Captain Ray on the bridge of the Treasure Seeker:



I'll condense this into what I think I know, in general, because we've just heard the story once. Not nearly enough to have it memorized yet. But the boat was anchored for the night off of the Plana Cays when this particular bit of the adventure started to go awry. The Plana Cays are a couple of small, uninhabited islands between Acklins Island and Mayaguana in the Bahamas.



Over lunch, Capt. Ray told us of his harrowing experiences while at anchor near the Plana Cays, in the Bahamas. I think I understand all the sequence of events that led up to him being rescued and then towed in here, but I tell ya, it's kinda complicated. I don't want to print something and then find out I've gotten it wrong, so I am just going to keep it brief at this point. Besides, I know that while some of us love the details of these boat stories, a lot of the folks who read this are not that into it. So here's the "Cliff Notes" version, abbreviated, truncated, and then shortened:

They were anchored, the wind picked up, they heard and felt a bang, lost the rudder, and the anchor, got pushed aground on the Plana Cays, and activated the EPIRB. ( I just replaced three paragraphs with that comma linked run-on sentence.)

EPIRBS send distress signals up to satellites that send them back to the Coast Guard, in marine situations. They can look up the details of which boat has a particular EPIRB, along with contact information. The USCG called Betsy, who gave them the latest SPOT coordinates for the boat and away they went. The helicopter was parked on Mayaguana, and their airborne radio calls to the Treasure Seeker bring us back to where we first got involved in this movie.

The helicopter lowered a basket to the Treasure Seeker, winched the crew aboard and brought them to Providenciales. That makes sense, as this is the closest place with tow boats and a shipyard for many miles. Once on Provo Ray was able to find a local tug boat and back they went to the Plana Cays to rescue his unmanned boat. I bet he was pretty nervous about that, salvage laws being what they are, and all. The Plana Cays are about 107 miles from here. The tug boat was able to tow Treasure Seeker off the sand and brought it to just offshore Providenciales where it was tied to a barge until Ray could arrange for the smaller, shallower draft "L'il Lew" to bring him to the Boatyard. And the end of that little saga is the first photo on this post.

Welcome to the Turks and Caicos Islands Ray!!! Having a good trip, so far?



These two photos are the main deck of the Treasure Seeker. The former ferry layout gives the boat a lot of room for passengers. It's Ray's intention to run the boat on day trip excursions out of St. Thomas.

The forward part of the main deck is now a bar stretching the full beam of the boat. The bar shutters are down in this photo but will be open when he is finally in business.



The entire theme of the boat is pirate-oriented, even down to the furniture:



Ray told us how many bottles of cold beer his coolers will handle but I don't remember the exact number at the moment. I do know it's a lot. Thousands.

The boat is still 'buttoned up' for the most part so we have not seen it with everything opened up yet. What is available to be seen is still pretty much lashed down. Wouldn't want heavy round things loose on deck at sea.



Some of the ratline rigging:



The amidships crow's nest is functional with an open hatch for someone more nimble than I am who likes climbing high on hemp lines:



I guess this photo could be titled something like "old salts discussing ratline splicing", and that would be as good as the entire truth. (Which is that some boys will look for any excuse to play with boats their whole lives through.)



I suppose the term a 'life of adventure at sea' has a nice ring to it, at times. Well, the Treasure Seeker has sure started out with a new chapter in that book.



The wheelhouse of the Treasure Seeker :



Looking toward the forward seating area and the dock at the Caicos Marina and Boatyard:



I notice Ray has installed plenty of safety cables to keep little pirates on board. (Or bigger pirates on their hands and knees)

I didn't realize how bad the top of the Land Rover was getting until I saw it from the bridge of a pirate ship:



This is the forward mast and crow's nest:



After lunch at the Conch Shack and stopping for some provisions, we finished our tour. I managed to catch Dooley the Disturbed at the very exact moment when he decided that climbing ladders was not in his job description:



Of course then the little beggar whines pitifully at the bottom of the stairs until someone climbs back down to carry him up.



Capt.Ray relaxing on the main 'party deck' of the Treasure Seeker. And yes, the grill is now 'Dooley authorized'.



This photo has nothing to do with all of this, just thought some of you might be interested in what the spotlight on the Treasure Seeker looks like from about 900 yards away:



So, the way things are at the moment is that Ray is waiting to hear what his next steps will be. His insurance company has to decide whether it is more cost effective to have the rudder repaired here on Providenciales or to tow the Treasure Seeker to a bigger shipyard in Puerto Rico or elsewhere. Of course Puerto Rico is part of the USA and that makes a lot of things simpler logistically. One of the complications in replacing the rudder here is that the boat needs to be out of the water to do it and finding cranes capable of that on this little island might be problematic. There are a number of factors to be considered, but of course in the end it will all come down to costs. We know Capt. Ray would prefer the boat to be towed to a larger facility. Waiting here a month for repairs would make any pirate worth his salt a bit itchy to get on with it. A tow to Puerto Rico would mean that the Treasure Seeker was not alone on the trip and it would get it much much closer to its future new home on St. Thomas.



Well, they're halfway there with some serious ocean still to go. I suspect that there will be lots more to this story over the weeks to come.

Stay tuned.

Back on the Boat!

This weekend we took our 25 foot Contender center-console boat out for the first time in almost six weeks. We had been getting rain off and on, mostly on, for the entire week. We were getting accustomed to looking out the window and seeing things like this approaching from the North:



Some of the storms included thunder and lightning, and while we enjoy a good thunder-boomer we do have one family member who self-ratchets his stress levels up every time he hears thunder. Dooley the Demented cannot abide thunder in any form. If he sees a flash of lightning on the horizon, he starts worrying about the thunder before it even gets here. This time of year, he will run under a chair if I even take a flash photo. He just KNOWS the rumble is on the way.

He won't even watch the Weather Channel on television on the off chance that someone will mention thunder going on somewhere else.

A few days ago I was preparing lunch while a relatively mild thunderstorm was going on. Dooley the Disabled planted himself between my feet and the kitchen counter. If I walk away, he tries to get between my feet as I am walking. It makes it a real pain to try to work on the counter top with a shivering, slobbering, useless blob of dog constantly trying to put himself between me and the solid structure:



I dropped a small cube of cheese on the floor thinking that would distract him long enough for me to finish making the sandwiches. In that photo, you can see the little bit of cheese just under his very nose. He ignored the cheese! This is somewhat startling. Normally, Dooley the Devourer would cheerfully sign up for an Arctic Expedition on the mere promise of an eventual possibility of a piece of cheese like that. But during a thunderstorm he was too worried and upset to even notice it. I had time to shuffle over to another counter (shivering dog shuffling between my feet all the way) and shuffle back to the cheese, and take this photo, and he still had not eaten it. That's pretty much paranoia in it's purest form.

Anyhow, after days of this kind of malarky with bad weather and a drama-queen of a dog to deal with, we finally saw some sunshine, and not a moment too soon:



And we also thought we should visit Pine Cay to check on some repairs. We really didn't need to check on them, but it aided our excuse to take the boat out. I am pretty good at building excuses, justifying what we want to do anyhow.

What clinched it was that I had emailed my doctor's office and asked if I could go diving (we are out of conch chili) and was told "NOT FOR SIX WEEKS". So I was feeling a little mistreated, sorry for myself, and determined to at least get near the ocean. My artificial knee doc told me to stay OUT of the water. He didn't tell me to stay OFF the water as well. Then we were driving down the Leeward "Highway", and looking out over Grace Bay when we spotted what appeared to be a sloop way out on the reef. Now THAT clinched what was already a foregone conclusion. Boat Trip!

We didn't bother taking many photos of the trip from our marina to the reef, as we have taken so many of those so many times before. But using Google Earth, this is the route we took from the boatyard to Pine Cay. You can see we detoured quite a bit to look for that sloop on the reef;



And we found it. Not hard to spot, really, if you stay close to the reef. La Gringa was the photographer for most of today, and she managed to get this photo as we were approaching the reef:



Aren't they supposed to have the sails up and be moving along briskly when they are at that angle? Happy faces, grins all salty and stuff? I suspect no grins on this boat lately.

We were in about 15 feet of water at that point, and the sloop is obviously in less than six, sitting right on top of the reef. Ouch. We suspect that they were trying to sail through one of the two small cuts in the reef there, which you can see on the Google Earth photo. They didn't make it. But this is a very tricky area for boats if you don't know the waters here. This was a very calm day, but we don't really get many calm days here. Not totally calm, like this anyhow. I hope the owners manage to get it pulled off the rocks before the next blow, because there will be six to eight foot breakers on that very spot as soon as the winds pick back up. ( they are blowing hard as I am writing this, in fact. We will go see if we can get a photo from the beach later today).

After taking about a dozen photos of the boat we turned around and headed back NorthEast toward Pine Cay. We saw a small patrol boat headed out across our bow, and I said to myself "Self, surely they couldn't be interested in our little boat..."

Ah, but they were. La Gringa had the camera, and managed to snap this "You gotta be kidding me!" moment just right as the police pulled in behind us with their lights flashing:



We realized that we were pretty obvious, being the only boat out there at the moment, and having two outriggers stuck up in the air. This is in the Princess Alexandra National Marine Park, and there is NO fishing allowed here.

As the small patrol boat pulled alongside to take a look at us, we realized that we know these guys. But they are looking at the boat and haven't recognized us yet:



Then when they pulled alongside, La Gringa said "Hello Paul" and they suddenly realized who we were. Paul (the taller officer) is actually who signed our boat registration papers in his office back in November. He had just never seen the new boat. And it still has Tim's Florida registration number on the bow, which probably confused things a little.

But the moment they got close enough to see down into our boat, we had our spokesman explain what we were doing, and that we were, indeed, completely legal:



I am not sure exactly what was said, but the next thing we knew, Dooley the Determined had boarded the government boat, and the Police had taken our little crew members into temporary custody. In fact, at his insistence, he was physically frisked repeatedly:



So, while the police searched the dog, we discussed which boat was whose, with our last boat now being Preacher's property, and this being our 'new' boat, etc. I think it's all straight now. But I was glad I had the paperwork with me. Sure makes things go smoother to be legal. It didn't hurt that the officer is a dog lover, and Dooley is always up for a good frisk and belly scratch.

After that we made our way on up to Pine Cay without further incident. Well, without incident except for Dooley the Delighted deciding to jump overboard at the marina and swim ashore:



We also noticed someone has decorated the little fish cleaning station at the dock there:



We managed to bum a ride to La Gringa's family vacation home. The hurricanes Hannah and Ike last September had severely damaged the porch structure of the house, and we have contracted a local building company to repair it. The same company we bought the second Land Rover from, in fact. (Hey, we do what we can to help support local businesses during this economic mess.)

We found that they had removed the old damaged structure, which covered the porch:




And looking at the pile of twenty-year old wooden beams, we could see that they were pretty well-rotted in places even before the storm damage. It was time:



And we were happy to see that the new lumber has been delivered and is already primed and cut to shape:



Now they just have to assemble it. We'll go back over this next weekend and see how they did.

Another reason we had gone out to Pine Cay this weekend was because the front door needed sanding and staining. The weather here is hard on exposed woodwork, and we had not attended to this door in two seasons. So Saturday we sanded it smooth, and Sunday we came back with some stain and brushes and while I worked on the boat La Gringa worked on the door. Looks pretty nice, now:



Those four wingnuts you see in the wall around the door are to secure a sheet of fitted plywood over it for hurricanes.

Any of you guys out there know a good paint to cover aluminium with the anodizing flaking off? (Brenton? Any ideas?)

I was having some issues with our outboard motor, so we headed home while there was still plenty of daylight left. We ran into some chop going back, but that's usually the situation on the windward, Caicos Bank side of the islands. I know it doesn't look like much on that Google Earth photo, but that little jaunt was over fifty miles round trip.

Back at the marina, La Gringa was taking some more photos while I worked on the fouled spark plugs. This is what one type of "glass bottomed boat" looks like out of the water:



With this design, people descend down a staircase and actually sit in comfortable chairs under the ocean with view ports in all directions. I think this would be a very cool way to see the reef, especially for small children or for people with conditions that keep them from diving on the reef. With the gin-clear water here, and the absolutely stunning reef running all the way around the country, this has got to be a very nice way to see it comfortably. And you can discuss what you are looking at with your family and friends. That's tough to do with a snorkel in your mouth.

This would be a much less stressful way to photograph sharks underwater, too. At least compared to the way we have been doing it.

Here is another view of the undersea seating area of the boat, from the other side:



We also noticed that the "Carribean Queen" paddle boat is in the boatyard at the moment. We had first seen this boat making its' way across the Caicos Bank a year or so ago.



We later met one of the owners at Turtle Cove, where he told us that the plan was to offer the boat for excursions and social events in Provo.

Just walking around the Caicos Marina, some of the other changes that are ongoing are apparent. For example, customers now have a place to grab a meal or just a cold drink here. The new little restaurant was closed on Sunday when we were there, but LaGringa had picked up a beer and a Coke when we were there on Saturday:



I am sure that the visiting crusiers and yachts who come here for fuel or repairs will be happy to know they no longer need to find a way to travel the very rough road to town in order to have a break from their own shipboard cooking.

Late yesterday I got the word that I am now officially allowed back in the water. So we should have some conch diving photos within the next few days, and we have some fishing trips planned for the weekend if the weather continues to cooperate. It is blowing hard from the North East right now, and that trip from the Caicos Marina to Leeward really beats up on us under these conditions.

I have tried to contact the Nikki Beach resort to find out if there might possibly be some way we could rent a boat slip from them, but so far, all I get are emails confirming that I am on their newsletter list. If we could arrange a place to keep the boat there in the canal behind the resort it would go a long, long way toward making it easier for us to get more boating in.

Maybe if we are persistent, we can find a human there instead of an automated email response.

(Warning: the rest of this post is for the hard core DIY types. Well maybe not hard core, but it certainly will be only of interest to home mechanics.)

Some of you may remember the photos we took while driving through the overflowing ocean around here during Hurricane Hannah. If you look at the tenth photo on this post: Hanna you will get an idea.

Well now, nine months later, the chickens have come home to roost. Or something to that effect. What happened was that while we have been driving the Land Rover daily, we didn't see any problems with the drive train. I am sure the daily movement kept it loose and lubed. BUT we just left it parked, stationary, for three weeks while we were away in the USA.

So, when we returned, and merrily took off down the hill, we heard funny noises and smelled funny smells. Kinda like brake lining. The hand brake also was not working right. It acted like it was not releasing, which would explain the funny smells. So,of course, someone had to look into it. And here, that would be me...

The first thing I found out was that Land Rover hand brakes (emergency brakes) are totally different from any hand brake I have ever seen before. Most of the cars I have seen over the years have a cable and spring arrangement that basically pulls the two rear brakes when you pull on the hand brake lever, or emergency brake handle. Real simple.

But not Land Rover. Nossir. What they have is an entire fifth brake setup that locks the rear drive shaft. Well, Land Rover doesn't call it that. They call it a propshaft. Confusing to a boat guy. But anyhow, this is what it looks like before all the cussing and skinned knuckles:



Yep, a typical brake drum. First you unbolt the front of the 'propshaft', and drop it down so you can remove the brake drum.



What a rusty mess. Looks like salt water might have gotten in there. I can't imagine how... (another hint: look at the second photo in this one Hanna Aftermath)

Anyhow, after several hours of cleaning and wiggling, I got it all working again. The brake shoes were not especially worn, it was just that all the little rusty parts were not letting the springs return them. A liberal dose of my new best friend Corrosion X, and it was working fine.

However, when dropping the propshaft, it didn't want to drop. So a closer examination of it revealed that the rear universal joint was totally toasted. A block of rust. Unfixable. Way too much oxide in the iron. Another victim of seawater. So, more unbolting to do:




And this is what the rear propshaft looks like removed from the Land Rover:




Well, here I started running into issues. I called the local Land Rover dealer, and yes, they had a universal joint in stock, for $ 108. Well, it has been probably ten or fifteen years since I last replaced a u-joint, but that seemed a bit steep to me. So I got on the trusty internet, and lo and behold found them for $ 20 in the USA. Whipping out the credit card, I ordered two of them on Friday afternoon, and by Tuesday morning I had a couple shiny new universal joints in hand. Total cost, two u-joints plus FedEx charges plus import duty...: $ 71. I reckon that is better than $ 108 for one. True, I had to wait a few days, but in our case we have another vehicle to drive. It was obviously worth it, and now I have a spare.

Some people take photos of their kids, their dogs, etc. On days like this, I just feel like taking a photo of a nice, shiny new universal joint. Knowing it will never look this good again, and that the next time I see it I am pretty sure it will be another rusty hunk of rust, courtesy of the tropics. But for now:




Beautiful, isn't it? Brings tears to my eyes. Shiny new metal is just so rare in my life these days.

Did you ever wonder what's inside a u-joint? I figured I might as well take a look, since I was going to have to take it apart to install it, anyway. Lots of gizmos in there:



Really just four sets of needle bearings, and some seals and dust caps. Sounds simple, until you drop one and all those needle bearings go flying all over the garage floor. Ask me how I know.

After only about two hours of more hammering, cleaning, grunting, and enriching the dog's vocabulary by leaps and bounds, we have a shiny new u-joint installed in the propshaft and ready to go back into the Land Rover between the transmission brake and the rear differential:




There's just one small problem...you see, the rear wheels are now locked up. Seems the disc brakes are frozen. I suspect something to do with seawater. And I will be digging into that shortly. But thats enough DIY for one post.