Sail Provo

Okay, Happy Monday, again, and now for a change from sailboat DIY to something different.  A sailboat without the DIY.  And that's a big change for us, too.  I'll explain in a minute.  I got ahead of myself.   I need to get the opening sunrise out of the way first.  

Maybe  you'll remember our previous post about a trip on one of the Sail Provo boats.  Well, we've done it again, and hope you'll enjoy some of these photos of something different than our usual blog posts.

Sail Provo is one of the local catamaran day charter companies here on Providenciales.  The company is owned and operated by a friend of ours named Jay Stubbs.  Jay is a brother of Preacher and Joe Stubbs.  Joe also goes by the nickname "Hammer" which is short for Hammerhead.  Which Joe's brothers have assured us is, indeed, an appropriate nickname for Joe.

We were invited along on another Sail Provo sunset sail last Friday.  A group of about 30 employees of a Pennsylvania company came down to Providenciales for a company conference,  and they chartered one of Jay's boats for a late afternoon sail.  We went along.

We've had strong winds blowing from the east, which made for a nice smooth beach landing on Grace Bay to pick up passengers.

Grace Bay is the vacation center of the Turks and Caicos Islands.  By our local standards, this is another crowded Friday afternoon at the beach.  The congestion is just terrrible.  This mob scene is one of the reasons we rarely go to the beach.  Heck, there must be twenty or thirty people on that beach!  How do they find room to breathe in that crowd?

Those white round things are not vacationers, by the way.  They're just little buoys to delineate where boats can and cannot come into the beach.  Nothing but animals allowed inside the corral.   Some of them are human, but not most.

Here's another view as we were loading up the Sail Provo catamaran Arielle.  The bow boarding ladder makes beach access easy.  When it's calm.   I guess when it's rough on Grace Bay they'll pick up passengers somewhere a little more protected.  But on Friday, the beach at Grace Bay worked just fine.

As you can see in that photo there were a lot of other boats out on the water Friday for the sunset.  There are two other sailboats in that photo in addition to Arielle.  And a few more were in the area.

I was messing around with my camera as we left the beach.  I realized that if I timed it just right I might catch a photo of that sailboat in the bright beam of light the late day sun kept flinging across the water at us.  I set the camera up as one of the day charter power boats zipped by.   I was thinking "now if I could just somehow get that sailboat to turn left just precisely as the beam of sunlight passes it..."  and I knew it wasn't going to happen.  We were moving.  They were moving.  The beam of light was moving.

And for some reason I'll never understand, the boat immediately turned left. I was disappointed in the photograph  but amazed by the timing.  Some coincidences just seem to be.... too coincidental, ya know?

Both of us carried cameras on board the boat for this trip.   So this is a mixture of photos, some being taken at the same time.   This boat is also out on a Sunset Sail with its own load of merrymakers.   It was tempting to 'photoshop' a fake line from the parasailor to the bow of Phoenix, but that would be wrong.  Fun... but wrong. I never know where these photos are going to end up.

Here's another of our favorite day charter boats, the Wharram-design Beluga.  I call it a favorite even though we've never been on board.  We like it because it sails more than the rest of the Provo charter boats put together from what we've seen.  It seems to me that anytime I look out to the north west from  Grace Bay or Water Cay I see two or three boats with their sails furled and motoring, and one boat sailing.  Always sailing.   That's Beluga. We keep looking for the chance to get aboard and take some photos but it hasn't happened yet.  Maybe some day.

I should mention that I realize these photos are not as bright as our usual stuff.  Please keep in mind that this was a sunset sail, and as such it took place late in the afternoon.   We had a low slanting sun and lots of shadows.   Other than that, I'd say the day was just about perfect for the middle of this terrible winter we're experiencing.

This is another one of Sail Provo's boats, by the way.  This is Andiamo.   It's a much smaller boat than the Arielle that we were riding.  It's a great boat for small groups who don't want the crowd scene on the bigger catamarans.

Meanwhile, back on Arielle, Captain Rock was demonstrating the proper way to don a life jacket.   He even went though the demonstration twice.  Once inside the cabin for those passengers orbiting the buffet table and refreshments...

And then he went through his safety lecture again for those catching some late day rays on the trampolines.   I think it's good to get these things done  during the first round of rum punches.   While memory is sharp.

I alluded to refreshments earlier, and there were plenty.  Platters of conch fritters, chicken tenders, cracked conch, nachos, and barbequed meatballs, for example.

And the crew circulated with pitchers of high octane premix, keeping glasses topped up as desired.  I should mention that they also carried a goodly assortment of iced soft drinks and bottled water on board for those who want something without the solvents.

Here's another view of Phoenix.  No reason, other than I just like looking at sailboats. And I had a camera in hand.  I suspect that neither of those are surprises.  I wouldn't expect a non-sailing reader to recognize this, so I wanted to point out that in general, adjusting the sails  to be parallel  is usually a  good thing for maximizing lift.  Think biplane.

Meahwhile, back on the good ship Arielle, we had a happy and mellow bunch of Pittsburghers on board this boat.   I started to suspect that the rum punch might have been spiked.  The word 'rum' probably should have clued me in.   It was a great day for a sail.

The two and a half hour cruise started at the beach in front of the Ocean Club on Grace Bay.   We traveled up to nearly the Aquarium between Water and Pine Cays, and then turned around to face into the sunset for the ride back to Providenciales.  I won't try to draw in the squiggles and tacks, and have faith in your imagination to supply all of those that one might want.

We knew a few of the people in the group, but only a few.   We were meeting most of them for the first time on this cruise.  Most of them had flown down from the north eastern USA three days before.   We got a chance to talk to a lot of new people who had been on Provo just long enough to realize that three days is not long enough to see the Turks and Caicos Islands.  It's not really even long enough to see the island they were on.

And when they found out that we'd been living here for ten years there were a lot of questions.  Fishing?  Diving? Sailing? Kiteboarding?  "Uh... yeah."  Surfing? "Uh, well, yes and no. Got a boat?"   A lot of temperature questions.   A few tax and cost and living questions.  And no, living here will not make you look like this.  Don't worry. There were a lot of other factors involved.

It's been said that all good things must come to an end, and that includes sunset sails.   Of course in this case that was the purpose of the entire trip to begin with so the ending was the goal in the beginning.   Sometimes it actually is about the destination, Grasshopper.

We saw a nice sunset.  I was hanging out up in the cockpit trying to see if I could get a good photo of the sun under the boom or something equally nautical looking.  Besides, I was all talked out.     I knew that between La Gringa and myself there was a good chance one of us would get a great sunset photo.  She was up forward with the passengers, getting a lot of good people shots.

And I was back in a comfy spot of my own to watch the sun disappear over the horizon.   It had already been over the yardarm since around 4:00.

When I smugly suggested that either La Gringa or I would likely get a stupendous sunset photo I sort of made a rash assumption that there would be a spectacular sunset.  It was okay, but not one of those real eyeball grabbers that looked like Cecil B. DeMille with an unlimited budget.   You know those real awe-inspiring cosmic technicolor atmospherics that we  sometimes get around here.  We just got another good Grace Bay sunset.  Actually, I'm grumpy because I was in the wrong place for it.  I must have taken a dozen shots from this angle, and they all came out about like this.  Blah.  By the time I smartened up enough to realize I should be on the other side of the sail, the boat  had already left the harbour, so to speak.

We didn't have too many photos taken later in the day because, well, it was all pretty much after sunset.  The group from the catamaran  made it safely back down the now well-lubricated plank to the soft and forgiving sands of Grace Bay.   I noticed an interesting weave pattern of footprints left behind as they gravitated to the outside beach bar at the Ocean Club. It was the last night in the TCI for most of them, and I wish I could have shown you more photos of how the evening progressed.    But we had to get home.   We'd had to leave Dooley the Distraught home alone while we went sailing.   He absolutely hates it when we go sailing without him.   I can tell how much he misses it when he smells the salt on our clothes and skin...

This next to last photo is by way of a clarification for the recent post in which I was telling you of how well oxalic acid works for taking rust stains off of sails.  One of the first comments we received was from a reader (thanks Michelle) who pointed out that I neglected to finish the story on that.

After rinsing anything with acid, it's almost universally a good idea to use something to neutralize the acid, so that it stops being acid and stops doing those things that you wanted it to do a little bit of.   Baking soda, or bicarbonate of soda (NaHCO3)  is really good for this, and it's cheap and easy to get at any grocery store.  I modified the post to mention it, but it occurred to me that someone might have read it before I added that part about rinsing the acid.  If you use acid on your sails, buy some Arm & Hammer to neutralize it with.  The box looks like the one on the table in this photo. One of the jars I am using has the acid mixture, and the other the  baking soda antidote for it.   Don't burn your sails with a long acid  exposure when you only need a quick singe on the rusty spots.  Less than two minutes, in our case.

That's the end of another post.  This every Monday thing is working out okay from our end,   I can imagine it'll have to be pretty boring from time to time, every week can't be a sunset sail. Some weeks are clinkers, but a faster update rate should ameliorate that a bit. And I can at least finish this one with a decent sunset photo, taken from the catamaran.  

Hey, I said that I was in the wrong place for the sunset photo.  She's apparently got a lot more sense than I do.

Heaving Down Rock

I've written about this time of year before. It's a transition zone between seasons. There's something almost magic about a lot of the days in late September and early October.  We get most of our rain this time of year with frequent  squalls blowing through. We also get periods when there's not much wind for several days in a row.  The ocean smooths out into slow, lazy, glassy swells.  And we get some spectacular, Dooley rattling squalls, too.   He slept in his 'thundershirt' last night.  Well, "slept" is not very accurate.  I doubt you could have closed his eyes with a three pound hammer.   So I'll correct myself.  Dooley hid under the bed shivering and shaking  in his thundershirt during an impressive electrical storm  last night.  All night. 

 And it took the power company until noon today to restore power.  Now that's a squall.   Why do these things always seem to happen at night, and on weekends?   Oh well.  Price of admission, I guess.

 Here's a recent sunrise from La Gringa..

  Rain is welcome here, within reason.  We heard parts of downtown were flooded this morning. These next couple of photos are from another morning rainstorm last week when I was trying to get a good photo of a sunrise through a local squall.  It didn't come out the way I hoped, but hey you never know unless you try, right?  Can you see the raindrops in the photo?   Little dark smears in the open part between the sun and the clouds.

You might just be able to see the line across the surface of the ocean where the edge of the squall is fingerpainting the top of it. The sheets of rain looked like transparent curtains drifting across the ocean. Of course I wasn't actually in the rain taking the photo.  Nah, I was up under the roof overhang with my morning coffee, fat dumb and happy. And dry.  My momma didn't raise no fools.   Well, maybe one.

That PVC pipe you see coming under the roof is part of our rainwater collection system.  The rain runs into the gutters, and then into these pipes, which connect to  two 9,000 gallon cisterns built into the house foundation.  We  usually get enough rain to cover almost all of our water needs throughout the year. We sized the roof with a four foot overhang all the way around.  This collects more rainwater and also provides shade when the sun is high.  We typically do have to buy about two water-truck loads of water a year, or 5,000 gallons, at six cents US per gallon.  US gallon.    And that usually happens early in the year, during the start of the 'dry' season.  Which also typically corresponds to when we have a number of house guests still left over from the holidays.  Once the guests go home, the rain alone is enough for the rest of the time. I should mention that this is also one of the last parts of Providenciales to get town water, so eventually we won't be relying on rain water.   I didn't say we won't use it,  because even with town water available.We prefer the soft rain water to the hard RO (reverse osmosis) desalinated water.  It's okay to mix it.

We went down to Leeward-Going-Through last Sunday to see if anything of interest was going on.    We miss hanging out at Leeward.  We were there quite often in our first two years here.  It was a different place in those days. It was quiet for a Sunday afternoon. This is typical for the season.  The overall population of Providenciales is at its lowest this time of year. A lot of local people take their yearly vacations during September and October.  Many of the people we know here are 'off island' right now.  And  the number of visitors from the USA, Canada, and the rest of the world is way down this time of year. They have their own autumns to enjoy, and kids  in school, and let's face it, this is the smack dab middle of hurricane season here. And I am not going to say anything else about that at this point because I'd have to go touch wood if I did.  I don't want to  jinx anything. We do get a lot of divers this time of year.   The diving and snorkeling is about as good as it gets. The calm water lets all the little particles of sand settle out, and the clarity is astonishing.  Some of the best underwater visibility on the planet, in my experience.  Thirty meters would be average, with more not uncommon.

This is a Google Earth satellite view of where we took our kite and camera setup last Sunday:

This is a photo looking down at a local point called Heaving Down Rock, which is at the tip of that big yellow arrow in the above photo. This is right at the very end of the Leeward Highway, with Leeward-Going-Through there between it and Mangrove Cay across the channel.  Don't you just love the names here? So descriptive.

Leeward-Going-Through is self descriptive, I think.  It's a channel that lets boats through between the islands. I sometimes tend to forget that not everyone who reads this blog is up on their nautical terms, so Heaving Down Rock might be a bit of a puzzle for some.  It's not the seasick sailor  kind of heaving.  Here's the simple definition from one of the online dictionaries:

heave down

vb

(Transport / Nautical Terms) (intr, adverb) Nautical to turn a vessel on its side for cleaning.

We don't know  what this area looked like back in the "heaving down" days.   I think you can see how this area would have lent itself to pulling a wooden boat over on its side to clean the hull.   That's no longer done this way, here.  These days we pay for a travel lift to pick the boats up out of the water and they use pressure washers  to clean   hulls. I know my own imagination can easily erase the man made marina, and picture a wooden boat snugged up alongside the rocks here  200 years ago.
"Pressure Washer Rock" just doesn't have the same cachet, does it.

This area has a lot of significance for us.  Finally, for the first time, we can see the bottom over which our former boat Cay Lime got swept along with the floating docks that got torn away from their moorings during Hurricane Hanna in '08.  The boat was upside down right there where I am standing at the bottom end of  that kite string. By the way, the pickup truck in that photo contains two of the notorious Stubbs boys, Preacher and Joe. They had come over to say hello  after coming in from a fishing trip.  The back of that truck is half full of live conch.  And one barracuda.  These guys love barracuda.   And we've tasted it.  Not bad.   We've just got an irrational and ingrained worry about ciguatera.  It's irrational because we don't seem to mind eating grouper, and they eat the same small reef fishes the barracuda do. 

This is actually a better photo.  I had walked out onto the end of the rock itself.  This photo shows it all, Heaving Down Rock, Sherlock Walkin's Leeward Marina, and in the distance, the Conch Farm.  And that's Leeward Highway taking off to the right, up island.   Or is it down island? I'm still confused about which way is up when talking about islands and beaches.  Thought I had it almost figured out for a while, but then I gave up.  Or gave down, as the case may be.

That sandy spot between the floating dock and beached boats in the bottom right corner also serves as a local boat ramp for those who don't want to pay the $5 Mr. Walkin charges to use his boat ramp.  La Gringa thinks that this side of heaving down rock makes more sense as a place to  haul boats over.   There have been so many modifications over the years, I'm not seeing much evidence of where the original "marina" would have been 250 years ago.  I guess we need to mentally subtract all the man made stuff and try to visualize what the natural shoreline would have been.   I suspect the basin in front of today's marina has been dredged in modern times.

I find it interesting that such a simple thing as a well placed rock outcropping could have so much impact on the local history here.  I can't find much information from the early years.  I know there must be ships logs and personal journals somewhere.  Maybe in the museum on Grand Turk.   I'll have to look into that, because it interests me. For example, in modern times, this is where the very first motor vehicle on Providenciales was offloaded onto the island.  It was in 1966, and the vehicle was a jeep.   What an experience that must have been for the several hundred people then living on Provo.  That was the year I started driving in Texas. Legally.  There were sure a lot of cars on the roads in Houston back then. And one beat up jeep on Providenciales, with no roads at all. Cart and foot paths.

Discussing this with La Gringa, she had just recently read a story about that jeep, and how it influenced driving in the Turks and Caicos Islands.  We naturally assumed that we drive on the left here because this is a British territory.  I was somewhat surprised to find out that this isn't the case.    The 28,000 inhabitants of the Turks and Caicos islands drive on the left because of that first jeep.   No kidding.

According to a correspondent on the Turks and Caicos Islands Historical Society's Facebook page:

"The story behind why we started driving on the left. According to Mr. Bengt Soderqvist, the first vehicle which came here in 1966, which was a jeep had an accident, the tie-rod was bent and began to favour the left, hence the driver found it more comfortable to drive on the left, "and we started to drive left from that day". That puts paid to the belief of those who insist that driving on the left on the island is due to the fact that the traffic rules are patterned after the British."

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Turks-and-Caicos-Islands-Historical-Society/463878000377601

   

So the driving laws in the Turks and Caicos Islands are based upon steering damage to a US built vehicle, and are totally unrelated to England.  Still doesn't explain why someone thought badly designed roundabouts would be a great idea at intersections, though. 

This next photo is not totally unrelated to England at all. The rather nice little home there in the middle of the photo is the former residence of the former Chief Minister of the Turks and Caicos Islands.  He's been on an extended vacation in Brazil awaiting extradition by the Brits for quite some time now.  Nice house.  But I bet he has some 'splaining to do.  Eventually.  This is going to be one of the most expensive Portuguese language courses in modern times.

This next one is another view more to the north west looking up Leeward Going Through.  We had noticed a "new' catamaran anchored out in the channel,which you can see in this photo.   We found out that another of the notorious Stubbs boys, Jay, had just bought that boat and sailed it down from Florida the week before.  We spoke for quite a while with Jay about his trip down. It took him a week.  He told us about some of the troubles he had, and why it took him an entire week.  We heard tales of having to wait a day for wind while anchored in the Exumas.   

That same trip took us 40 days.  Lack of wind was never an issue. I'm not going back into all that here. We all have our sea stories, don't we?  

As you can tell, the ratcheting camera-turning gear is still working fine on the kite setup.  We get photos in all directions just by tugging the kite string. This view is out over the Caicos Bank.   I  walked out to the end of the   remaining floating dock at the marina  for these next few images. Before Hanna in 08, there were three.

This is the view  looking back up the dock.

It's not  too difficult to take a look at the water on each side of that dock and tell which way the wind and current are running.


And I thought you'd appreciate what might be considered a somewhat rustic approach to ferry boats or water taxis. Yes, this started out as a home built conch boat. One of many here, of identical design, from the same pirated hull mold.  And now here it is a commercial ferry, tied up in the Pine Cay slip at Leeward Marina.  

A view from the end of the dock in x and y, with an additional z component of a couple hundred feet of altitude....

The camera just keeps rotating, so we get hundreds of photos to choose from on these excursions.  Don't worry, I'm not going to post hundreds of photos.  But I mention it because if anyone has any good use for an aerial image of anything in this area, there's a good chance we have it.

For example, I think this is a decent photo of the layout of the Conch Farm.   You can see the circular pens where the conch are allowed to grow until they are big enough change from looking for sea food to becoming it.  I know you probably won't be able to make it out, but on the horizon just to the right of center is a black dot.   That's the wreck of the old freighter La Familia Express.    You've sure seen plenty of images of that on this blog.

If you ever find yourself on Providenciales looking for something unusual to do, try taking the tour of the Conch Farm if you can. It's been going through some legal hassles lately, which is understandable. That's some prime real estate right there. Only a matter of time before someone figures out that a whole lot more money could be made than is justified by raising conch.  So, you might not want to put that tour off for too long.

Speaking of land issues, we just spent almost three weeks away from home during the growing season here. That creates issues of its own. I found a good use for the stainless tank we salvaged on West Caicos.  It makes a great little portable incinerator for sand spurs.  Or grass burrs.  Or stickers.  Whatever you call those things that puncture the bottom of bare feet and stick to your clothing if you let them get out of hand.  And  three weeks is definitely long enough for them to get out of hand.  I rip up the thorny little boogers and burn them.  Then I spray the area with herbicide.  Buys me about a month before I have to do it again.

And when I mixed up my herbicide, it necessitated another little DIY thing.  I discovered that particles in the stuff were clogging up the screen on my little hand pump sprayer.  So I balled up a piece of cotton fabric to use as a filter,  and siphoned the mix down through it. I can see four different projects going on at my work bench.  It doesn't always look this bad. The siphoning and filtering worked like a charm, by the way.  This is good info to have here.   Bugs and weeds grow year round, and the regular application of  'cides of various denominations has become a way of life for us. It's  definitely a case of better living through chemistry.

 
One more little DIY photo and then I'll end this. Several people have expressed an interest in the 3D printer.  I've continued to improve and tune it, and now have it printing surprisingly well for a home-built kit of plywood and cable ties.  It's to the point now where I can actually print projects taller than a few inches. The precision of the various carriages has to be pretty tight in order to stack this many layers and have it come out well. I've also learned more about printing things with  supporting
columns to hold up overhangs.  That all gets broken and cut away when the print is finished, leaving the supported part. It's still very much an old dog/new trick scenario with this thing, but I'm learning.

We're getting a fair bit of use from this Printrbot.  It's fascinating to watch it. I'm convinced that 3-D printing is going to be making some big changes in the world of manufacturing and home hobby projects. Do you remember that line in the movie "The Graduate" about plastics being the way of the future?  These days, I think it's 3-D printing.  And graphene, of course.  That's going to be even bigger.

Well, that's it for this post.  We should be able to get back out on the water in the  next few days as life gets back to normal after being away.     In the meantime..... keep smiling.

Sunset Sail on "Arielle"

It was a late afternoon at the Grace Bay resort center of Providenciales. A quiet mid winter day, with clear blue skies and benign little waves lapping at the white sand beach. A lot of the Type A amateur first-day-tanners took their second degree burns off in search of their third rum and fourth aloe vera application of the afternoon. Lots of the lazy Larrys and laid-back Lauras left later. Literature lovers are allowed to lecture me on lascivious alliteration. This is starting to sound like some Monty Python 'Halt who goes there?' password routine from an old Pacific war movie spoof.

There are still a few relaxed souls enjoying the day. Almost time to gather up the microwave resistant coconut oils and head back to the rooms. Stop at the little shower to spray the sand off your feet, and then leave a wet trail to the room with those giveaway squishy sounding flip-flops.

I bet you've been there. It's time to start getting ready for the evening plans. There are several choices in restaurants to consider. It's a quiet time of day, perfect for a short snooze in the lengthening shadows, or to just finish that next chapter of Dean Koontz or maybe James Lee Burke. There's a nice, shady poolside beach bar to the right, and a quick smile to any waiter in sight will get you quickly reloaded with the solvent of your choice.

And oh, can you see that boat approaching between the palm trees?



Yes, while everyone else on the beach and around the bar was relaxing and socializing I was out scanning the horizons for a catamaran. This might be a curse of mine, but it's not what you probably think. Well, maybe it is. The title of the post gave it away, didn't it. I HAD to use that title, though. It rhymes, more or less. If you pronounce one of the words with an East Texas accent. You might have to squint a little, too. I tried other words to rhyme with sail. I kept coming up with things like hail, jail, rail, tail... not quite right. I did take French 101, and I know Arielle doesn't rhyme with snail.Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, so to speak.... here, this photo is a little better.



We were lucky enough to have been invited on a sunset cruise on board one of Sail Provo's catamarans. This is one of Jay Stubbs' day charter cats, coming to pick us all up and take us out for a boat ride. Was I excited? Sailing on a big catamaran that I have never been on before? For free? Yes, I confess, I was only slightly less excited than Dooley gets about abandoned Cheetos. It definitely was one of the high points of the latter half of this one afternoon in mid winter. Living here does have its moments.

The Arielle motored along surveying the beach looking for the right slope to let them put the bows on the sand and still keep the rudders and props in deep water. The beaches here change continuously, with the long shore currents moving sand from one end of the island toward the other. We've had a stormy winter so far. What was a good landing spot last week might not be the same today.



The Captain quickly found a spot he liked and our little crowd started down the beach to meet the boat. This was a private corporate charter, so almost everyone in the crowd knew most of the others.



The Captain set the bows gently on the beach, and the crew lowered a boarding ladder through the trampolines. What a great way to board a boat. I gotta try this tourist stuff more often. My kid wants me to go para-sailing. That should be some great blog photos.

The Captain skillfully kept the big boat delicately balanced, carefully using the throttles to keep the boat just lightly touching the shore.



After the everyone was on board the Captain reversed the engines and with the lift from the next wave gently picking the bows up, he skillfully backed the big catamaran away from the beach. We could tell that he's probably done this kind of thing before. Probably more than once.

Like thousands of both bare and booted feet through the centuries before us: we left nary a trace of our passing over that feathery edge between land and the sea. The light marks of Arielle's keels were gone from Grace Bay before we were even out of sight of the nearest Banana Daiquiri leaving only the the eternally washed sand to draw a constantly changing and sometimes violent border between us and our prehistoric relatives beneath the waves. You know, all those toothy water breathing carnivorous things without feet that live under there. Interesting things. Like the Squid, as one example.

We were watching some squid out on the reef a few years ago. There are some photos in another post.They remind me of clever little jet engines with eyeballs and fingers. Have you ever just drifted quietly and watched a school of curious tropical squid? They change colors. They come close and study you. There is an unsettling feeling when gazing into their eyes. I don't know if it's a thoughtful examination on their part, or just two predators taking each other's measure. Each of us would eat the other alive and raw if circumstances allowed, and we both know it. They gaze back. Sometimes I get the feeling I am involved in a momentary truce of some kind. A Lloyd Bridges version of a Mexican standoff. It's worth learning to snorkel just for that experience alone. It's very interesting to see a pint sized predator trying to decide just where you fit in the overall scheme of the food chain. It's not like on land, I like the way Hunter S. Thompson put it:

"It was the Law of the Sea, they said. Civilization ends at the waterline. Beyond that, we all enter the food chain, and not always right at the top."

When you live on a small island, I think you inherently feel the extent to which the sea has you totally outnumbered and surrounded. People do get what is called 'Island Fever' in many cases. It becomes almost a low-grade panic after awhile. A mild anxiety, that most people can cure by taking American Airlines to Miami and renting a car for a few days. I know that in my own case, two hours in a mainland shopping mall pretty much cures the island fever. I can't wait to get back. Surprisingly, getting on a boat seems to be a big help, too. I think maybe the whole island fever thing might be tied to the freedom of traveling unrestricted. To get beyond encroaching boundaries. Isn't it ironic that the same wanderlust that drives people to exotic islands in the first place sometimes prevents them from settling down happily once they finally get there? “Life is a journey, not a destination.” ― Ralph W. Emerson

This is a view of the beach in front of the Ocean Club East.



Most of the Grace Bay resorts are very similar, in general. We've never seen a crowd of any serious proportions on any of them. This is nothing like the big high-rise beach resorts many people are accustomed to. That resort on the left is one of the taller resorts here, at seven stories.

Arielle swung out and away from the shore, and because timing is everything with sunset cruises, we headed upwind under power while the sun dropped lower and lower toward the horizon behind us. The Captain wanted to be sailing back before sunset.



I was so busy snapping photos that I hadn't thought to look at the crew. We have gotten to know a lot of the folks working in the boat and charter business here. I had taken a quick glance and had seen that it was not Ryan. Ryan was running the catamaran Phoenix, back when there was a catamaran here called Phoenix. Oh, it's still here. It's actually risen from the ashes yet again. But I don't think it's named Phoenix anymore. We haven't gotten close to the newest reincarnation to read the name of it yet, but we have seen her, still sailing the waters of the Turks and Caicos Islands. I took a recent long range photo of her sailing, and posted it here. The old Phoenix is in the seventh image in this post.

We have given him barracuda. Ryan, I mean. He eats every bit of it. Once we gave him a live one. He liked that even better. He must have done a day charter and got the night off. He wasn't here. Too bad. I wanted to talk with him about some fiberglass ideas for the skiff. He's good at that, too.

Anyhow, when I finally looked around to see who was sailing Arielle.. La Gringa was already talking to the Captain, 'Rock' Stubbs. He is another of the notorious Stubbs brothers, the brother of Jay. And of Preacher. And Hammer. We'd only been on this boat for about ten minutes and were already feeling relaxed and right at home. But these TCI Islanders can do that to you, anyhow, when they choose to. The trick seems to be to just keep loosening up until everyone is smiling, and then see how long you can hold that.



Here we are passing The Coral House, with the entrance to Leeward-Going-Through coming up around that point. This is the top end of Grace Bay Beach. The boat is in the shade of clouds to the west. A really great sunset always seems to have a few clouds involved.

Notice at this point there is nobody riding on the trampolines.



Notice also at this point that the crew is making one of what would be many rum punch runs. The procedure was simple enough: Sit on catamaran, gaze at beautiful tropical scenery in living 3D as you pass right through the middle of it, and hold out a cup to be magically refilled with cold high octane fruit juice. Absolutely no extra exertion required. Life could be worse.



And now you might notice that people are moving from under the hard top out onto the deck, and even as far as the edge of the trampolines.



That photo above shows you a little of what the inside, sheltered area of Arielle is like. There is plenty of seating inside, so that people can easily get out of the sun or take shelter from passing squalls. There is additional seating and bathrooms below in the hulls. A very comfortable boat for day charters. Not too many people were under cover on this day. The weather was extremely pleasant. Most of these people had driven through snow to get to an airport three days before.
They still look a little dazed, but that seems to be normal for people from the northeastern part of the USA this time of year.

I was roaming around looking for things to snap photos of. This is a close up of a drain scupper in Arielle's bridge deck. It's looking straight down between the hulls at the water rushing below us, and rocks on the bottom about five meters down. I think I might use it for a background for my desk top.



We were still motoring upwind at this point. Rock said the plan was to hoist the sails, cut the engines, and turn downwind back toward Providenciales and into the setting sun. Sounds like a good plan to me.

If you read much of this blog, you'll likely recognize the coast of Water Cay. You may also notice that passengers are now starting to relax on the trampolines. This reminded me of how good these big cats are for introducing nervous non-sailors to the experience of traveling over the endless ocean by wind alone. Multihulls are relatively stable in the roll axis. They don't tip back and forth like single hulled boats. You don't live life on the slant in one of these. If you haven't been sailing before because you are too nervous about 'tippy' sail boats, try a catamaran first. Then move on to try monohulls if you want. You'll be okay with it by then. It's a logical progression, and just about the opposite of how it usually happens.

Do these people look nervous to you? heck no, I would venture to say. And that's with the Captain sitting right in the middle of them. He's pretty relaxed, too. That's good. Uptight people with a 'Captain' in front of their names always make me nervous, no matter which organization I'm dealing with.



You may notice that they are now starting to find the trampoline, with all of that clear blue water rushing by just underneath.

As we got close to our turnaround point just off the Pine Cay beach we spotted another familiar local boat headed our way. We see this boat out quite often sailing the waters of the Turks and Caicos Islands.



It isn't hard for us to spot the distinctive shape of the James Wharram designed catamaran Beluga.



These boats are well known in sailing circles. Or maybe I should say sailing great circles. They are somewhat on the austere side compared to some of the modern designs. Does it make sense if I describe the interiors of these as Spartan cozy? They're good, rugged boats. I think the hulls are attached to the cross beams so that they can move independently. It's a little like a catamaran with a suspension system. We've been itching to get a ride on one. We know of at least two of these cruising the local waters.



We often catch sight of Beluga's sails on the horizons on both sides of the islands. It's a comfortable boat for small groups, and she sails more than any other boat that we have ever observed in the Turks and Caicos. Friendly people, too. Our dogs harass each other verbally long distance if we get close enough when we're sailing our Hobie.

As we passed like ships in the bight, the crew of Arielle hoisted the main and unfurled the jib, and with a turn of the wheel we performed a couple of final tacks, and then turned onto a downwind run back toward Providenciales.

Captain Stubbs shut the engines down, and that wonderful feeling of traveling with the wind became a new part of some life experiences. Sailboats make noises that you won't hear anywhere else. To the experienced sailor who knows his boat, the wind passing around and between the sails and rigging and the hulls slicing through the waves carry on conversations in an ancient language. It's a soothing music with the rhythms of the sea setting the tempo. There's a sense of dynamic harmony when everything is trimmed just right.



You've probably gotten the impression that we like sailboats.

This was turning out to be a very relaxing way to watch a sunset. People were loosening up nicely, scattered all over the boat by this point.



Snacks were passed around by the crew as we waited to watch the sun's latest disappearing act. What a great evening for a sail. I'm not accustomed to someone else taking all the responsibility for missing all the bumpy spots.



You know, I think even a relatively average tropical sunset must look better from the deck of a boat.



The trip continued to get interesting after sunset, but of course it was too dark to take photos. The Arielle landed at the lighted docks in Leeward Channel where we found a nice bus waiting to take us all to the Coyoba restaurant, where we had dinner reservations. This was first class service all the way. Thanks, Jay and Rock Stubbs, and the crews of Sail Provo. There is a link to their web site on the right side column of this blog, by the way. If you're ever in Provo, and looking for something nice to do, call them up. They might have something going on.

Now instead of my usual DIY stuff that bores some people to tears I thought I would just throw in a few miscellaneous photos that caught my eye this week while organizing all my photos. The last time I cleared out my hard drive, I archived 10,000 photos. And now I am up to almost 9,000 more. It's amazing how many we take that no one else ever sees. Usually because they don't have anything to do with the rest of the photos in a post.

Remember my whining about the unusually shoddy construction of the wrecked Haitian sloop that we photographed recently? Well, Captain Bob Nichols, of the schooner "Star of the Sea"wrote me confirming my impressions that they could build better boats. He sent me a couple of photos he took on a recent mission to the orphanage in Haiti that he supports with his mission.

You other boat people out there reading this can look at how the frames are done on these sloops, as compared to the one we saw wrecked. These are definitely better built.



Bob says one of the Haitian boat builders told him he could make him a boat like this for $ 500 US Dollars. Think about that one, for a minute.



These guys match the wood to the shape they need. I have to wonder what they could if someone gave them $ 1,000. for a sailing masterpiece?

It also points out another factor in the constant stream of Haitian refugees risking their lives in expendable versions of this design to escape their native land. We commonly see reports of 75 people on a sloop rounded up, rescued, detained, fed, and deported. We have heard from several sources that they just wait until they can scrape up another $ 1,000. and try again. So, the boat costs $ 500, and the fares equal $ 75,000. for a one way trip. Some boats have more people than that on them. I don't think this business is going to go away, despite the risks.

I took this photo in the grocery store parking lot because it reminded me of a story we heard here about a year or so ago.



We were admiring an impressive new tow truck at the time. I think he had delivered something to the house. The truck had one set of these massive air horns on the roof, and a bare spot where another set had obviously been installed at one time. I asked the owner about the horns. I had been thinking about adding a set of louder horns to the Land Rover. A lot of the drivers here who grew up someplace to the south are very fond of using their automobile horns as a form of communication. They typically tap out bleats and beeps with tinny sounding little typical small car horns. I have long thought it might be fun to hide a real honker of a horn under the bonnet for just those moments when I feel the desire to reply to a horn I consider rude. You know the feeling I am talking about. I am interested in a horn that will knock loose paint and the duct tape off the offending automobile. I asked Tony what kind of reaction he got when he felt the need to chastise one of these horn honkers in retaliation. I could just see one of them blasted loose with a proper set of air horns. Tony smiled at some memories of what I suspect might have happened when "that dude's hawn go bleat bleat!". He told us that the police had received complaints. The horns were judged too loud. They told him he had to lower the volume, so he decided to just remove one set of the air horns. Clever move. He complied with the request to lower the volume, yet still maintained an offensive capability.

I didn't think to ask him what he did with the set of air horns he was ordered to remove. I suspect we now know where those went. Now he's packing horn even in his off duty hours. And I'll bet this Jeep can kick start an inattentive pedestrian from forty meters.

This is a photo of the small hillside from in front of the entrance to the Caicos Marina and Boatyard. Rocks are stacked in vertical columns about the height of people. When I first saw these from a distance it appeared as though a silent tribe of unmoving spectators was watching us sail. I thought they looked stoned. We sailed over for a look, and I was right.



This is a photo from when we were out searching for our "Christmas Stump". It's a view of the Five Little Cays area from a different perspective than we usually see. One of our nearest and favorite sailing areas for the Hobie Tandem Island.



And I am posting this Go-Pro image we took from the mast of the Hobie when we sailed up the far side of West Caicos in search of the Marevedi Cove. I want to go back with more time and some snorkeling gear. One look at this place and you just know there have been boats pulling in here for shelter from the winds over the centuries.



This next photo is another reminder of something we want to do. We were sitting around a few days ago when we heard this roar of infernal combustion engines leaving the boatyard. It was late in the day, but I managed to get this photo of a new boat in town. And now I want to drive over to the boatyard and see if we can't find out what the story is here.



It looked like it has seats for at least a dozen people on it. Now that's my idea of a water taxi with some snap. We saw it return to the boatyard, so we're due a trip over there to check things out. If any of our blog readers have boats stored there and want us to take some photos of them for you, just drop me an email and we'll do it.

I promised no DIY this post, and so there won't be any.... BUT I did get a lot of questions and comments about the Gringos Wooden Eco-Responsible Storm Light fixtures I've been building to replace the hurricane damaged ones that came with the house. I've now built six of them, and fiddled with the design until I was happy with it. I am now in the process of making a bunch more of them. Here's a night photo of the first half dozen:



La Gringa tells me she likes them. The thick, heavily tinted wine bottles and low wattage bulbs actually produce a nice glow. I've played with some variations on the aluminium cans I used for the internal shades. I've found out that the cans perform several important functions in the design.

Here's a drawing of what the final pieces looked like, almost.



I decided to leave the hole in the top piece, for ventilation. These bulbs don't get very hot, but they do produce heat and there is a solar thing going on with these lamps in the sun, too. I am thinking that even in a real frog strangler of a downpour, not much water would get into that hole. The rain here is usually blowing sideways, anyhow. And whatever droplet do run down inside will drip into the little basin in the end of the inverted aluminum can. It will evaporate. The can also acts as a heat sink, encloses the light bulb, and is grounded to the aluminum part of the fixture. I've found that "U" shaped cuts with the flap bent outward will direct the light downward. And vertical slits in the other side of the Coke can let the illumination shine outward in a bigger pattern.

Since that version, I've shortened the wine bottle glass and changed the aluminum plate that I attach the socket to. It's now two strips of aluminum crossed.

Dooley the Distracted hopped up on the wall to see what I was interested in (of course!) and while he momentarily blocked the nearest light I took this photo to show you how elevating the lights up a little more lets them cast light down to the ground outside the wall. I think it's working. Sorry about the dog butt.



That's it for this post. I've already posted the sunset photo from the sailing trip. So on that note, we'll just say adios until next time. And if you think it's easy living like this, well, I'll leave you with this thought, too: