Caribbean
Compass
April 2004ECLAC: You Got Our Attention
by John and Melodye PompaNow that ECLAC (the United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean) has published an overview of findings from their regional study of yachting, and the various island task forces are looking for approval by their respective governments of the results and subsequent implementation plans, it would appear to be timely to ask some questions about the conclusions drawn.
We have read reports on the individual studies done in Antigua & Barbuda, Dominica, Grenada, Martinique, Sint Maarten, St. Vincent & the Grenadines, and Trinidad & Tobago, having downloaded from the ECLAC website (www.eclacpos.org). We were not able to locate the reports from the BVI and St. Lucia, or the complete version of the January 2004 report as mentioned in the Caribbean Compass, February 2004.
While each country has its own issues, there are several common themes among the reports that should be addressed before further plans are made and their implementation begins.
Definition of market segments
It does not appear that any report, with the exception of Trinidad's, adequately recognizes the various segments of the yachting tourism market. There are four: the bareboat charter, the crewed charter, the megayacht, and the cruising yacht. The wants and needs of these four segments are often quite different, and the country which indiscriminately lumps all four together will most probably miss opportunities in all four. Trinidad recognizes all four, primarily because there is a distinct absence of the bareboat charter and the megayacht, and because the crewed charter and the cruising yacht are the same for what they expect of Trinidad (hurricane season protection, repairs, refurbishment).
Grenada's report attempted to distinguish between cruisers and live-aboards, a distinction which is, at best, artificial: live-aboards, in the common definition, are those who have work permits and are working ashore for extended periods of time (six months to several years). While they are working, they are hardly different from someone who lives on land. While they are not working, and usually south of the hurricane zone, they are cruisers.
Prior to any plans being made, each country should recognize which of these four segments are currently present in their yachting tourism product, and make a conscious, intelligent decision whether to focus on the segment or segments they are presently serving, or to expand to additional segments, or both.
Lack of marketing data
Most of the reports acknowledge inadequate data and lack of analytical tools from which to draw conclusions. It seems that situation could be easily remedied with a well-designed multi-lingual exit survey for each island, distributed as part of the clear-in process and collected at clear-out. This technique will avoid the skewing apparent in the Sint Maarten survey, which is heavily slanted toward the larger yachts, perhaps because the data was gathered by asking questions at one of the megayacht marinas. In a few cases, exit surveys will not catch some vessels - The Moorings' Canouan-based charter boats for example, since these yachts most likely remain within St. Vincent & the Grenadines' waters and therefore do not clear Customs and so would not complete an exit survey. Some other technique is necessary to add those tourists to the database.
Many of the questions are common to all islands (how important are the following: provisioning, Internet access, diesel mechanics, feeling of safety, friendliness of local citizens, etcetera). Some questions, however, will be unique to the island: e.g. for Dominica, how much of a deterrent to visiting yachts are the wrecked freighters in front of Portsmouth; for Sint Maarten, how big a problem are the bridge opening times, etcetera. These questions, however, must be carefully worded in order not to predispose the respondent to a particular answer.
The surveys should include basic information, including number of crew on board, number of passengers on board (fare-paying and non-fare-paying), size of yacht, last port of call, next port of call, type of yacht (see four segments above), estimate of expenditures, and a variety of other statistical bits cited in the various reports.
Clerical staff can key the survey answers into a database, shared by the various participants, and some analytical tools can be developed to sort and summarize the data collected. Only then will the task forces have valid information upon which to base their plans and proposals, and only then will the various governments be able to determine where to spend their scarce resources.
In the spirit of co-operation, the "many islands, one sea" survey results should be shared among all the islands, which will allow each to understand what is important to yachting tourists as a whole, rather than just those surveyed on their island, and why those tourists choose or avoid certain destinations.
Assumptions about wants and needs
This is closely tied to the "lack of marketing data" issue, but focuses more on conclusions presented in the reports.
Mooring buoys
For instance, there seems to be a focus on installing mooring buoys in every available anchorage, because "yachtsmen welcome moorings". Nothing can be further from the truth.
It is true that many bareboat charterers, when given a choice, will take and pay for a mooring buoy. Most megayachts are far too large to use any but the cruise-ship mooring buoys, and most, in fact, tend to make use of marinas, which is a clear message to those islands with few or no marina facilities. The crewed charter may come down on either side, possibly due to who (the charter company/boatowner or the guests) is paying the mooring fee. The cruising yacht owner, however, will avoid using a mooring buoy whenever possible, but would welcome seeing inexperienced bareboat charterers on a mooring rather than anchored nearby.
There are certainly locations where mooring buoys are appropriate: fragile reef and sea-bottom areas, like the Pitons in St. Lucia; small harbors where crowding can be an issue, like Clifton Harbor, Union Island; anchorages where the depth precludes comfortable anchoring, like Roseau in Dominica. Indiscriminate installation of moorings in the name of "protecting the environment" but truly for the purpose of filling government or private coffers will be met with resistance on the part of many yachtsmen, and will drive those tourists away from a destination rather than attract them.
Installing mooring buoys in Simpson Bay Lagoon, Sint Maarten, to revive/save the sea bottom ecology is a waste of time and effort until the dredging-and-filling operations (80 percent of the shoreline of the Lagoon has been artificially created) and the land-based waste runoff are curtailed. Installing mooring buoys in Rodney Bay, St. Lucia, where the holding is good sand, for the most part, will detract from the other efforts of the marine businesses in the Rodney Bay area to attract yachting visitors.
In addition, mooring buoys incorrectly installed can cause more harm than good. If they are not properly maintained, the ground tackle may give way, allowing the moored yacht to drift into shore, onto other yachts, or out to sea.
There is a small bay on the south coast of Tortola where several moorings have been installed in the midst of a grassy sea bottom: over the course of time, the ground tackle has rotated around the sand screw to destroy all the seagrass within the perimeter of the mooring tackle. In areas where the environment is very fragile, perhaps a "no boats allowed" position would be an even better alternative than moorings.
Pollution
All reports express extreme concern over the issue of yachts polluting island waters with overboard discharge. A commonsense test to that question demonstrates that that concern is unwarranted. For example, a body of water such as Rodney Bay, St. Lucia, which is a mile long, half a mile wide, and, on average, 20 feet deep, contains 278,780,000 cubic feet of water. Stated another way, at seven and a half gallons of water per cubic foot, Rodney Bay contains over two billion gallons of water. Factoring in the volume replaced with each ebb and flow of tidal activity, the number of gallons of water in Rodney Bay is almost infinite.
Having no accurate measure of "Personal Organic OutPut", but assuming half a gallon per person per day, one hundred yachts with two persons aboard each yacht would produce one hundred gallons of human waste per day. That equates to one hundred parts of waste to two billion (minimum) parts of water in Rodney Bay - well within any limits set for coliform bacteria contamination. The same dramatic ratio of waste to water applies to other popular anchorages such as Prickly Bay, Tyrrel Bay, and Admiralty Bay.
This reasoning comes into question when considering a contained body of water not open to the sea and not subject to tidal flushes. Sint Maarten's Simpson Bay Lagoon is an example of a worst-case scenario. However, the Sint Maarten report says "...this effluent, which is immediately pumped into the seawater from yachts and whose breakdown in the salt water is so rapid, the negative contribution is so small that it is truly negligible". The Sint Maarten report also quotes Emile van der Borsch in an independent study commissioned by the Sint Maarten Nature Foundation (2002): "Sewage from ships anchoring in the Lagoon does not contribute significantly to the total amount of sewage entering the Lagoon".
All the island reports describe at length the problems created by urban runoff and untreated sewage from shore. There seem to be no current answers to the question of how polluted are the waters, which makes sense since there are presently no established benchmarks and quality measurements. The issue of water pollution requires further study: Is the level of pollution getting worse, better or remaining the same? What are the nature and sources of the pollutants?
Still, each report recommends that yachts have holding tanks or some other form of marine sanitation device. Without supporting data to justify this recommendation, and given the data that is supplied to indicate that it is not necessary, any action in this direction does not appear to be warranted or productive and will run the risk of discouraging visits by yachts, which would be detrimental to the objectives ECLAC is trying to achieve.
While there are additional examples of assumptions, the point here is that the customer should be asked what he wants and needs, rather than relying on assumptions made by people who are well intentioned, but not intimately involved on a regular basis with the visiting yachtsmen. More data is needed in a number of areas before proceeding. ECLAC and the participants must re-examine their conclusions and make sure that they have facts before action is taken.
We encourage all of our fellow yachtsmen to find out more about ECLAC and what it has accomplished, and to offer their own opinions and suggestions. If given the chance to contribute through a survey or other data-gathering technique, we hope that they will take advantage of the opportunity to participate actively in the future development of the Caribbean. For more information and copies of the ECLAC reports visit www.eclacpos.org and navigate to the "Yachting" sections.
John and Melodye Pompa are cruising the Caribbean aboard S/Y Second Millennium.
DECK VIEW FROM TI KANOT
Ancient Customs in St. Lucia?
by Chris DoyleIn many ways I have been very encouraged on recent visits to St. Lucia.
Rodney Bay Marina has been upgraded considerably over the last few years. It looks well maintained and now has wonderful restaurants, cafés, and a big duty-free chandlery. As a result it has a feeling of community and lots of yachts on the docks.
The docks in Marigot Bay are being beautifully rebuilt, the first step in the Discovery Marigot plan to recreate the southern shore from its ruined state.
Soufriere and its Marine Management Area (SMMA) continue to flourish and improve.
With all this good news, I ask myself why St. Lucia's government officials seem incapable of rewriting their Customs rules to meet the demands of the modern yacht tourism industry.
When I came to the Eastern Caribbean back in 1969, yachting was just beginning, and yachts were officially treated as shipping, with the same rules. For example, to go from "mainland" Grenada to Carriacou, or even an anchorage like Hog Island, you had to get a coastwise permit from Customs. This was then true in many other island nations, especially in Trinidad & Tobago, where they wanted to know each time you moved your anchoring spot!
Few yachtspeople, however, are willing to put up with this bureaucratic nightmare, and over the past 35 years these regulations died out in places such as Grenada because they were ignored. In the case of Trinidad, local investors told the government that they were not prepared to put money into yachting infrastructure until the government allowed free movement of yachts, as they knew that the onerous regulations that were in place would kill any hope of developing a yachting industry.
The situation today is much better. Of all the countries in the Eastern Caribbean that have a significant yachting industry, all but one have similar regulations: Once you have cleared into the country you are free to cruise wherever you wish (excepting restricted areas) until you clear out to leave. This is true today in Trinidad (with some restrictions), Grenada, St. Vincent & the Grenadines, Martinique, Guadeloupe, Antigua, and Sint Maarten/St. Martin, Why not St. Lucia?
When you clear into St. Lucia, you have to state which anchorages you intend to visit. If you include one that is not a port of clearance - Anse Cochon or the Pitons, for example - you then have to say on which particular day or days you will be there, and you have to pay an EC$25 "permit to moor" fee for each day you want to be there, and you have to get the written permit.
On many occasions I have been asked to welcome the ARC participants to St. Lucia with a talk about Caribbean cruising. Since St. Lucia has a number of lovely anchorages, I like to encourage them to cruise here. I find it embarrassing to have to tell them that before they visit Anse Cochon or the Pitons, they first have to go to Customs, tell them which day they want to be there, pay EC$25, and get a written permit. It makes St. Lucia seem more like Cuba than like its neighboring islands.
The situation is made worse because both of these anchorages are part of the SMMA/CMMA area and therefore, in addition to the "permit to moor" fee, overnight mooring fees to support the marine park are applicable. Yachts having paid for a "permit to moor" frequently refuse to pay their park fees, claiming they "have already paid". Not only does this have a bad effect on the park, but those people who refuse to pay genuinely feel that officials have tried to rip them off, and they spread this bad news about St. Lucia.
On some years I have visited, Customs has exempted the ARC participants from this "permit to moor" regulation, which leads me to ask: If you are going to give an exemption to the ARC to encourage yachting, why not exempt everyone?
If revenue collection is the point of all this, why not simply increase the clearance fee on entry? My guess is that currently less than 10 percent of yachts on a single visit to St. Lucia will pay the extra fee and avail themselves of a "permit to moor". (Partly because of the current regulations, most yachts think of St. Lucia as a place to stop but not a place to cruise.) This means that if Customs charged everyone EC$2.50 extra on entry, the yachtspeople would hardly notice and Customs would be better off, plus the freedom to cruise the island freely would encourage more yachts to visit.
There is no question in my mind that the "permit to moor" regulation is damaging St. Lucia's yachting industry.
It is obvious that the private sector in St. Lucia is now serious about yachting. Isn't it time Customs also got serious and dropped this anachronistic regulation?
ALL ASHORE
Looking for a Free Ride? Come to Curaçao!
by Marcie Connelly-LynnAfter a couple of months in Bonaire, a visit to Curaçao was a welcome change. A quick 40-mile downwind sail and we were searching diligently for the entrance to Spanish Water. We'd repeatedly been assured it was there, along with a nude beach that stretched along the narrow entry channel. With Table Mountain properly situated and even with waypoints, the first-time entry required a leap of faith. Once negotiated, the path to the Sarifundy anchorage is somewhat circuitous, a bit of a trial for sailors who've been hanging on a mooring for two months instead of sailing. The re-learning process for us forgetful baby boomers is always a challenge.
Though the anchorage is not close to town, economical buses run on a convenient schedule every day and service most of the island. Sunday dawned warm and sunny and since the buses were running, we opted to make a foray into Willemstad, the main city on the island, about a 25-minute ride from the anchorage.
Willemstad is separated into two parts, Punda and Otrobanda, by the waters of St. Anna's Bay. The two parts are connected by the historic Queen Emma's Bridge, primarily used for foot traffic, and another larger vehicular traffic bridge further up the bay. The whole town is easily accessible by foot. Following the canal from the bus station on the Punda side takes you past the "floating market", a delight to the eye as brightly colored Venezuelan boats line up along the wharf with open stalls of fresh produce and fish for sale.
Though sharing the Papiamentu language and much of the same heritage and history as Bonaire, Curaçao is much more cosmopolitan and thus very different in nature. The center of town is a maze of alleyways, nooks and crannies, all teeming with street vendors, little shops, restaurants and boutiques. A carillon mounted on one downtown building chimed on the half hour and could be heard blocks away, beckoning us to find it. We walked for hours, ate in quaint little outdoor cafés and generally appreciated the unique aspects of the largest island of the Netherlands Antilles.
Without a doubt, the waterfront street, Handelskade, on the Punda side, is the most memorable sight in Curaçao. Dutch Colonial architecture is prevalent in the bayside mansions originally owned by wealthy 18th and 19th century merchants. The area is well preserved and is now occupied by restaurants, shops, banks and other commercial properties. Legend has it that a popular governor some 200 years ago complained that he got a headache from waking up to all the white houses along the waterfront. In deference to his wishes, the islanders have painted their homes in bright pastels ever since.
The Queen Emma Pontoon Bridge, affectionately called the "Swinging Lady" by locals, was built in 1888, to allow traffic to pass between the two parts of the city. There was originally a toll in place that was charged only to those who could afford shoes. The poor folk borrowed shoes so as not to be embarrassed and paid the toll. The rich, too stingy to pay, hid their shoes and crossed barefoot. The bridge is now free to cross as are the ferries that transport people across the 500-foot-wide bay. The bridge opens as many as 30 times a day to allow water traffic to pass and visitors line the walls watching the show. The bridge tender actually starts an engine and "drives" the pontoon bridge to an open position. The process takes about 30 minutes each time. Last-minute pedestrians on the bridge scurry as the bridge begins to move regardless of their presence.
Though Willemstad offers several museums, with limited time we chose the Kurá Hulanda, touted to have the best African collection in the Caribbean. This museum is dedicated to the history of slavery, slaves and the development of Curaçao through the centuries. It houses a tremendous number of artifacts including a full-size replica of a ship's slave hold. The second floor balcony of the museum affords a picturesque view of the orange clay-tiled roofs and dormered shutters of the surrounding city buildings, typical of Dutch Colonial period architecture. Opened in April 1999, there is also a large, very plush hotel attached to the museum that is rated as one of the top 100 small hotels in the world. Though we considered the rooms a bit pricey for an overnight, we enjoyed two-for-one happy hour piña coladas with friends in the pleasant courtyard.
While shopping for souvenirs, we ran into Sandra, owner of Curaçao Creations. Curaçao has extremely friendly people and Sandra was the epitome of hospitality. We chatted for quite a while as she told us about life in Curaçao. While discussing the ferry rides across the river, she shared a Papiamentu idiomatic expression with us: "kab'i boto". Literally it means "head of the boat", but figuratively in Papiamentu it has evolved into meaning "getting a free ride". It seems in the olden days before the bridge, people paid a fare to take the ferry across the bay. If you sat up front in the boat, you got wet and didn't have to pay the fare hence, a free ride in Curaçao. Whether you sit up front or not, the ferry rides across the bay are now free.
Curaçao has lots more to offer which we didn't get a chance to see. The bright blue liqueur, Curaçao, is made here exclusively at a distillery housed in Landhuis Chobolobo, an old country mansion. There are several other country houses to visit, an ostrich farm, an aquarium and caves to explore, all accessible by bus or rental car. As for us, we were pleased to have had a few days here and like many cruisers we know, appreciated a free ride!
David and Marcie Lynn, along with their ship's cat, Jelly, have lived aboard Nine of Cups, a 45-foot Liberty cutter, for nearly four years. With plans for a 10-year circumnavigation, they are currently in Ecuador planning to spend another year in South America. Check out their website at www.nineofcups.com.
Punta Pargo Incident
by Robert MonnierArmed boarding and robbery
Punta Pargo, Venezuela (10.43N, 62.034W)
2215 hours local time, February 28, 2004
This is a report concerning an armed robbery and attempted shooting which happened in Punta Pargo on my sailing yacht Myriad, a 40-foot aluminum sloop of French registry.
Planning my trip from Cumanà to Trinidad, I was aware of the security situation on the Paria Peninsula between Araya and Punta Mejillones. I thought of motorsailing mostly at night, and avoiding the Puerto Santos area. I wrongly assumed the security to be better on the east side of the peninsula.
After stops on the way, in Isla Lobos for the first night and then in Carùpano for part of the next day, I motored overnight to Punta Pargo and anchored there on Saturday February 28th at 0915 hours, planning to go the next day to Cabo San Francisco and leave early on Monday for Trinidad.
I had various contacts, with kids swimming to the boat to whom I gave caps, and with a fishing boat that was in need of fasteners - a few were given to them. I strolled ashore, spoke with people then went back on board.
I had a very good encounter with a fishing vessel, Papanian II, anchored close by, and the mate Daniel, who spoke good English. They invited me to share a lunch of grilled fish, rice and arepas. Papanian II buys fish from the local fishermen and runs it to Trinidad where it is processed.
Late in the evening, the bay started filling up with fishing boats coming in for the night, which gave me some misgivings. Myriad was the only sailing yacht in the bay. I folded the bimini down over the transom, which makes boarding the cockpit from the sugar scoop area awkward and difficult. I settled to sleep in the cockpit at about 2130, the dinghy tied up to the stern with a painter - a rigid-bottom Bombard with rowing bench and oars. The outboard is stored on the transom railing.
At about 2215, I was awakened by voices and noticed the presence of two or more men on the platform at the stern. I immediately started shouting loudly at them in Spanish to get away. There were voices and the flickering light of a torch (wood? gasoline-soaked rag?) coming from the starboard side, probably from the lanchita (small wooden dinghy with oars, no engine) they must have used to reach Myriad.
I realized that one of the men was wearing a mask and then assumed that the situation was most dangerous. I jumped through the companionway, still shouting, and started looking for flares. In the five, ten or 15 following seconds, as I was rummaging for the flares, the intruders were trying to induce me to come out with soothing words: "Amigo, venga, venga" ("Friend, come, come").
I poked my head out to see if they had come into the cockpit, then went down again for the flares. More or less at the same time, two things happened: a shot was fired and I triggered a flare, holding it the wrong way and hurting my thumb. The intense pain prevented me from realizing that the shot had been directed inside the cabin. Subsequently I continued shouting at them to leave, begging them not to come on board and not to take the dinghy, screaming in the VHF a mayday that I knew nobody would respond to.
I don't remember what they might have said at that time. I was struggling with the flares; they perhaps thought I had a weapon. They were still trying to get me to come out. One of the men, the masked one I think, made some very clear death threats. I don't recall exactly if this was before or after the gunshot. I was still screaming, allowing periods of silence to hear what they would say or trying to find out about their movements. After a while I couldn't hear anything coming from the stern, but couldn't know whether the intruders were standing still waiting for me or if they had gone.
After a few moments of calm, I came out cautiously, trying not to get shot in the process, and noticed no presence. I could see my dinghy being rowed away with two men on board, barely visible along the cliff closing the bay on the east, towards the north, away from the beach. I started monitoring their progress with binoculars. The lanchita wasn't there. In the following minutes the dinghy was met by a motorized fishing lancha (roofless fishing boat). The group was about 600 to 800 yards away, apparently struggling to deflate the dinghy or take it aboard. The lancha pulled the dinghy farther out, and then west. It was not possible to determine whether the group was headed for someplace farther down the coast to the west (Ensenada Mejillones?) or if they had stopped at the farthest fishing boat, perhaps before returning to the shore in Punta Pargo.
I went back and explored the inside of my boat with a shielded torch. I then noticed the tracks of the gunshot on the roof of the companionway, the damaged wood on the headliner and battens.
I also took stock of the fact that my head had been in the track of the gunshot a fraction of a second before it flew inside Myriad.
I tried then to make plans for the rest of the night and decided it was not possible to stay alone on Myriad for the night - I would have felt insecure, and I realized I didn't have the means to deal with another robbery attempt. I summarily closed Myriad, slipped quietly into the water, swam to Papanian II and woke them up. They hadn't heard a thing. I asked for shelter and spent the night there, mostly not sleeping but looking at Myriad barely visible in the dark 150 yards away, seeing in my mind hordes of attackers boarding her from all sides.
At first light I swam back to Myriad (Papanian II doesn't have a dinghy) and was happy to realize that she had not been visited again. With daylight and freshly brewed tea I was able to take stock of the damage - a quantity of wood shards littering the floor, big splinters out of the overhead battens, one shotgun pellet finding its way through the roof panel and into the insulation - but overall mostly cosmetic damage, no navigation instrument or other equipment was harmed. Daniel and a friend from Papanian II came aboard and were very sympathetic, helping me to clean and comforting me. We then noticed a half dozen holes in the forward bulkhead and a broken lamp. Later on I realized these pellets continued to do damage on the other side of the panel, piercing aluminum tubes and paddles for a kayak.
Shortly after, I left to complete my trip to Trinidad.
In conclusion
The intruders probably approached Myriad in a small lanchita. Two of them made off with the dinghy, the rest with the lanchita. They couldn't have swum to the boat, as the upper parts of their bodies seemed dry. The one wearing a mask seemed to me fairly young - not over 30. An older man was present, not wearing a mask. I do not know who fired the shot, but assume it was the masked intruder. This man uttered some death threats in Spanish - something like "Callate, o te mato" ("Shut up, or I'll kill you") but much more expressive - not loudly (not to be overheard by the fishing boat anchored very close?), but in a voice with some unmistakable intentions in it. Were these men from Punta Pargo, from another settlement on the coast, from a fishing boat, or a combination?
The bimini made ingress difficult and awkward but also somewhat prevented me from seeing the major part of the intruder's bodies or someone hidden underneath.
It seems the intruders were not happy with the nearby presence of fishing boats that might have become aware of what was going on. In fact, the nearest fishing boat crew clearly was aware of something, but didn't interfere - anyway, it wouldn't have done any good: they didn't have a dinghy either, their engine had trouble starting and the possibility of being fired at could not have been more desirable on their side than on mine.
The firearm used was most probably a shotgun - one empty 12-gauge cartridge was left behind, a few pellets were collected in a cushion or elsewhere, badly deformed by their track. Shotguns are a part of daily life in Venezuela, seen every day and everywhere. They fire one shot at a time and need to be reloaded for the next shot. The fact that one empty cartridge was left behind may mean that the shooter had reloaded. It may also have been a "home-brew" firearm, also fairly common in Venezuela. The cartridge was rusty.
It is clear that the intentions of the intruders were the worst that can be imagined, and I realize how fortunate I am to be alive to tell this story, with no physical wounds and not in an utter state of terror. I am very happy - and lucky, too - that the engineless dinghy was enough to satisfy them and that Myriad was not vandalized.
I was wrong in my assumption that anchorages east of Cabo Tres Puntas, however remote from the notorious Puerto Santos, would be safe. If I had studied recent events, I perhaps would have been of the opinion that there could be no absolutely safe harbor along this stretch of coast, except perhaps Carùpano, where you can anchor a couple hundred yards from the Vigilancia. I could have continued straight to Trinidad on Friday, but was ahead on my schedule and wished to spend some time resting and cleaning the boat. I also wanted, ideally, to avoid the overtime tax in Trinidad, but ended up arriving on Sunday anyway.
You will make your own decisions in the light of this event - whether to go or not to go, what precautions to take, how to behave and that sort of thing. Things worked pretty well in my favor in this instance, but I have just been very lucky. It could have been much, much worse. In my mind are the ordeals that others have been through and the cruelty with which they have been treated in other incidents along the Paria Peninsula.
I would like to express my gratitude to Papanian II, her captain and the mate Daniel. Many thanks also to Barbara and Dietmar of the Austrian-flagged Erasmus, and Steph and Carolyn from the South African Fruity Fruits. Barbara gave a helping hand at the Customs dock in Trinidad, when I arrived and there seemed to be nobody to take a line. The two of them invited me to a comforting dinner. Carolyn and Steph came to help me start writing this report, originally intended for the Maritime Security Net, and were very supportive.
Good luck with your sailing, wherever it is.
DESTINATIONS
The Secret (Spanish) Virgin Islands
by Tom LaneVenezuela has big posters hanging in a lot of places that say "Venezuela - the best kept secret in the Caribbean". I have to agree that Venezuela is, to a large extent, one of the real "secrets" of the Caribbean, although not as much a real secret now as it was three or four years ago. (Maybe that feeling is just because I personally now know about Venezuela.)
As we sit in the harbor here in St. Thomas, USVI, watching the cruise ships come and go and talking to fellow cruisers, we can tell you that Venezuela is still a real secret to a lot of people. However, an even better-kept secret sits less than 20 miles from us here in Charlotte Amalie. Most cruisers coming down from the US or across from Europe are so eager to get "down island" that they completely skip the Spanish Virgin Islands - a 400-square-mile area west of the US Virgins.
These islands belong to the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico and the official languages are English and Spanish. Most of the population can speak English; however, a little knowledge of Spanish is a bonus. While the US Virgins depend entirely on tourism for their income, Puerto Rico has a more diversified economy and better developed infrastructure, and cruisers tend to be more welcome there than in lots of other places we have been. The islands of Vieques and Culebra also depend on tourism; however, the majority of tourists in the Spanish Virgin Islands are from the "mainland" of Puerto Rico and the entire atmosphere is different from the US and British Virgins.
What we found was that the Spanish Virgins were what we expected cruising would be like when still sitting at home with only a dream of cruising! The anchorages are almost deserted, the beaches are pristine, the people friendly and many moorings (when available) are free! When supplies are needed, a short sail will bring you to well-stocked stores. For major problems, a short and inexpensive ferry ride will take you to Fajardo where almost anything can be found - including West Marine, Wal Mart, Sears, machine shops and parts stores of all kinds. Not bad for an "out of the way" cruising ground.
For those of you who use Bruce Van Sant's A Gentleman's Guide to Passages South, there is an entire section of the book that deals with the Spanish Virgins. He has great explanations as well as sketch charts of most of the anchorages and directions for trouble-free entry to and exit from those anchorages protected by reefs. If you don't have this guide, Van Sant has also written a smaller guide called Spanish Virgin Islands that contains a lot of information and the same charts and directions. In these guides, the south coast of Puerto Rico is included as part of the cruising grounds in the Spanish Virgin Islands - and we have followed his format here and included Puerto Rico. It really does fit well and it is all so close together that including Puerto Rico makes good sense.
Salinas, Puerto Rico
We made our first landfall in the Spanish Virgins at Salinas, about halfway along the south coast of Puerto Rico. We also chose it because we had been there before and knew the way in. If we had bothered to read the guides we had, we would have known that we should have gone to Ponce, which is a port of entry. This small oversight necessitated reading the cruising guide to learn about public transportation and then riding 30 miles west to the Customs and Immigrations people in Ponce. We were met there by an absolutely charming young lady who quickly walked us through the check-in procedures and welcomed us back to the US. If you have a US-registered or documented vessel, expect to pay the US$30 Customs "user's fee" which entitles you to come and go for a calendar year with only a phone call to clear Customs.
We found the harbor at Salinas to be one of the nicest we have found anywhere. It is known to locals as a good hurricane hole and the mangrove creeks around the harbor offer safety from most storms as well as great places to explore by dinghy. It is easy to anchor far enough out to escape most of the insect life and still reach a dinghy dock in less than five minutes. There is a fresh breeze almost all of the time (excepting in the middle of summer) and the holding is great!
The marina at Salinas is part of a hotel and has fuel and water as well as public telephones (which work some of the time). A short walk will take you to grocery stores, a marine hardware store and a bakery with fresh daily almost-everything-good! This is the place to leave your boat if you want to rent a car and tour the island. The car rental people will come and pick you up at the marina and deliver you back there when you return the car. The prices for a nice car were quite reasonable and the roads were great.
When leaving Salinas, the south coast of Puerto Rico has about a million little nooks and bays. If you follow Van Sant's directions for going east, you will see a fair sample of them before you reach Point Tuna and turn northeast. We honestly feel that it would take a least a month to explore this coast and see most of the sights. If you have the time, it would be a great way to spend a lovely month.
Isla Vieques
We moved from the south coast to the island of Vieques, once a US Navy gunnery range and only a long day-sail from Salinas if the weather is good. Most of the anchorages in Vieques are surrounded by mangroves and the locals (as well as a lot of people from the US Virgins) use several of them on the south coast as hurricane holes when the need arises. We have friends who have ridden out at least two hurricanes in Ensenada Honda's mangrove creeks. These are the same creeks that we explored by dinghy in dead calm waters while the tradewinds blew their normal wintertime 20 knots outside.
A short move back west from Ensenada Honda will put you at Puerto Real where the local dive center has moorings for rent. We did not spend the night there, however: Van Sant relates that the holding there is "Teflon coated grass and fluffy sand"! Pay for a mooring if you crave civilization and want to eat a restaurant dinner or visit the archeological museum located there. A move of less than a mile to the east will put you in Sun Bay where there is beach (with real white sand) more than a mile long, and good protection from the northeast to east tradewinds.
Isla Culebra
Our favorite place in the Spanish Virgins lies about 12 miles to the north of Vieques on the island of Culebra, where there are free moorings behind the reef on the south side of the island. Culebra is an island of reefs, great anchorages and wonderful exploring - by dinghy or on land. The local town is called Dewey and reminds me of Florida in the 1960s. Nobody moves fast and almost everybody is friendly.
Dewey has two grocery stores, a fuel dock, a parts store, an internet place and many restaurants. Included in this package is a ferry that goes to Fajardo several times a day. The ferry linking here with the "mainland" means that you can be anchored in one of the many good anchorages available in this out-of-the-way island and still be able to go to Sears, West Marine or Wal Mart just about any day you need to!
Secrets being what they are, I won't tell you about the great breakfasts at the Dinghy Dock restaurant, the airport being only a five-minute walk from your dinghy, the great reefs to snorkel or exploring the half-moon beach at Culebrita. I probably won't tell you about the islands and reefs that stretch in a line from Culebra to Fajardo and their secluded anchorages. Some stuff you just need to find out for yourself!
May 2004
Bequia Easter Regatta 2004
24 Yachts + 27 Double-Enders = Fun!
by Bob ChristieThe 23rd Bequia Easter Regatta went off to much acclaim from those who took part in both the yacht racing classes and the double-ender fishing boat classes, and from the largest and happiest throng seen in Bequia for a long time. The weather provided the sailors with a wide range of conditions through the four days of sailing and it was generally felt that conditions, if somewhat light, were good for safe racing.
In the yacht category, 24 entries included visitors from the United States, Antigua, the French West Indies, Barbados, Grenada and St. Lucia battling with locally based boats for honours in the one Racing and two Cruising classes over the four days.
Loose Cannon from St. Lucia took overall first place in the Racing Class, with Carriacou's Bloody Mary and Moonshadow from Antigua taking first overall in Cruising Classes 1 and 2 respectively.
In the double-ender fishing boat races, 27 boats from Bequia, Canouan, Mayreau and Carriacou came out to give us some of the closest finishes in living memory. In Class Seven B, for the traditionally built 27-footers, Bluff and Trouble each took a first place on the first two days, with a winning margin of under two minutes. Bluff finally saw off her old adversary on Monday to take overall first place and the newly presented Maxwell Simmons Memorial Trophy.
After a hotly argued protest, Perseverance won Class Seven A, for the 28-footers. Limbo won two of her three races against Ace to take the overall trophy in Class Six, as she did in 2003. Shamu rose from last year's second place to top Class Five B, and Tornado once again won Class Five A. Scope International, repeating last year's victory over Marian, won Class Four easily with two firsts and a second, while My Love took Class Two and, in another repeat of last year's standings, Lady G saw off De Reef in the 13-footers' Class I.
For the first time this year the Grand Prize-Giving was held in front of The Port Hole Restaurant and the Salty Dog Sports Bar, with a large stage and canopy provided by Bequia Easter Regatta's main sponsor for 2004, Heineken. The Hon. Dr. Ralph Gonsalves, St. Vincent & the Grenadines' Prime Minister, and The Hon. Réné Baptiste, Minister of Tourism and Culture, and Bequia's MP, The Hon. Dr. Godwin Friday all joined in the spirit of fun and laughter which is a hallmark of this regatta.
The Bequia Sailing Club would like to give special thanks to the event's main sponsors: Heineken, The Government of St. Vincent & the Grenadines, Mount Gay Rum of Barbados, Pepsi, Digicel, Mountain Top Spring Water, and Trade Winds Cruise Club. Special thanks also goes to CSA Race Officer James Benoit and Judge Steve Kern, who travelled from Grenada to assist in the yacht racing, and to the many citizens and officials who gave freely of their time to ensure that Bequia Easter Regatta 2004 went off without any major hitches.
ALL ASHORE
A French Sampler: Guadeloupe
by Marcie Connelly-Lynn
Only 40 miles past bleak and smoldering Montserrat, the harbor of Deshaies (Day-hay), Guadeloupe is very inviting. The town is built right on the water's edge. The harbor is well protected and the view from "le mouillage" (the anchorage) is awesome. On a Friday afternoon, we anchored and headed to shore to check in before the weekend. At 3PM, Customs/Immigration was closed.
We awoke the next morning to a light breeze, which delivered a delicious fragrance to the anchorage. The smell of fresh croissants and rich French coffee wafted through the air and we were ashore in minutes to sample the wares. The main street of Deshaies reminded us of a very rural, very mainland-French little town. We bought coffee and fresh pastry at a boulangerie and sat at a table on the sidewalk and watched the world go by.
Most of the basic services a cruiser might need are available: Internet, bakery (boulangerie), butcher (boucherie), diesel and gasoline by jerry jug, a reasonably stocked grocery store (SPAR supermarché), library (bibliothèque), auto rental (louer à voiture), phones, pharmacies and friendly people - even an ATM! Nearly everyone walking around town had a baguette of bread in their basket and a bottle of wine under their arm - including us. When in Rome.
On Saturday morning, once again, we climbed the hill to the Customs office, but it was closed for the weekend we were told. In frustration, we stopped in at the Police Department and explained our problem (very slowly, in high school French, to a patient gendarme). He replied in French, "Oh, well, don't worry. You can only do what you can do. If you can't clear in, you can't clear in." The word "nonchalant" came to mind. We finally ended up checking in at Basse Terre later in the week, without any hassle at all.
About a kilometer-and-a-half walk from the anchorage is a botanical garden. It was a Sunday afternoon and most things in town were closed, so we decided to hike up the very steep hill to check out the gardens. We didn't expect much in a small town, so we were pleasantly surprised to find a delightful setting with over a mile of bricked pathways and several species of flowers, trees and plants we hadn't seen or been able to identify previously. In addition to flora, the gardens had pink flamingos and, in a separate aviary, several varieties of parrots and parakeets perched on your hand and ate seeds from a cup provided by the park.
Though our time in Guadeloupe was limited (getting out of the proverbial hurricane zone was on our minds), we wanted to do more than smell the coffee and sniff the roses. We rented a car for two days and drove inland to the Guadeloupe National Park to find the Chutes du Carbet: three sets of impressive waterfalls approachable via well-kept trails. We saw Number Two and Number Three on two separate hikes, but the access to Number One was closed. A sturdy suspension bridge gave access to one of the trails and walking across it reminded me of the "fun house" in the old amusement parks.
On Day Two of the car rental, we drove to Pointe-à-Pitre across the Route de Traversée, which cuts directly through the middle of the island of Basse-Terre and through the National Park. It's steep and curvy with lots of switchbacks, great views and crazy bus drivers.
Pointe-à-Pitre is Guadeloupe's largest city and a wonder to explore. We found it hard to get away from the markets. There was just too much to see, smell, taste and buy. Fishermen, lined up along the wharf, sell their fish right from their boats. Crayfish, lobster, tuna, ray, shark, octopus, crab, squid, red snapper you name it, it was there. We decided a "smell" chip for the digital camera would be a neat idea, so that you could smell as well as see the scenery.
Fruit vendors were decked out in their traditional Guadeloupian madras dress complete with turbans. The vivid colors, smells and sounds of the marketplace were absolutely splendid. Each vendor competed for our attention, but they were friendly and smiling. We bought cabbage, green bananas, breadfruit, flamboyant melon and something new, pomme d'amour (love apples ooh la la!).
A spice market further down the street lured us in. We saw aisles and aisles of every spice imaginable including a local favorite, colombo (a curry mix), which we purchased along with a locally made mortar and pestle to grind up the peppercorns we also bought. Across the street, fabric stores displaying all color combinations of the vivid Guadeloupian madras were abundant. Any number of small sidewalk cafés displayed billboards with specials for lunch and tiny boutiques offering fine French wines and cheeses beckoned us in.
Parking places had been scarce when we arrived, but we were lucky enough to find one right in front of the market. As we returned to the car we noted ours was the only car left and a local gendarme was writing us a ticket for parking in a "No Parking" zone. We expressed our apologies, smiled, looked liked tourists and though he grimaced, he let us go. Timing is everything!
Sugarcane was being harvested and trailer truck upon trailer truckload could be seen on the highway and along the roadsides. The production of "Rhum Agricole" is a major industry in Guadeloupe and the rum produced is highly prized in France. We stopped at a small rum factory for a tour and a sample or two. The smell of the freshly cut cane is somewhat sweet, mixed with earth smells. There were huge vats of molasses and the smell was overpowering at times, when mixed with the heat and humidity of the day. We found the clear white rum to be closer to white lightning in our estimation, and begged off any purchases.
We were back to the boat by dark, wishing we could stay longer and sample more of the country "Frenchness" of this hospitable island. The best we could do was buy more croissants and wine to savor, and reminisce in the days to follow.
David and Marcie Lynn, along with their ship's cat, Jelly, have lived aboard Nine of Cups, a 45-foot Liberty cutter, for four years. With plans for a 10-year circumnavigation, they are currently in Ecuador planning to spend another year in South America. You can check out their website at www.nineofcups.com.
Proclamation Restricts Rights
of Boats in US WatersIf you're sailing to the US this summer, this might be of interest.
A Proclamation made by US President George W. Bush on February 26, 2004, authorizes the Secretary of Homeland Security to take virtually total control over any vessel, foreign or domestic, in the territorial waters of the United States, if the authorities feel that vessel "may be used, or is susceptible of being used, for voyage into Cuban territorial waters".
Under the new proclamation, "The Secretary" or other officers and agents of the United States Government, with assistance from State and local authorities, can regulate the anchorage and movement of such boats, inspect them at any time, place guards on any such vessel; and even take full possession and control of any such vessel and remove the officers, crew and all other persons "when necessary".
The Proclamation states that these steps are being taken "in order to expand the scope of the national emergency declared in Proclamation 6867 of March 1, 1996, based on the disturbance or threatened disturbance of the international relations of the United States caused by actions taken by the Cuban government". Further to the existing restrictions against vessels sailing from US ports to Cuba, the Proclamation states the following:
o "the entry of any US-registered vessels into Cuban territorial waters could result in injury to, or loss of life of, persons engaged in that conduct, due to the potential use of excessive force, including deadly force, against them by the Cuban military, and could threaten a disturbance of international relations
o "the unauthorized entry of vessels subject to the jurisdiction of the United States into Cuban territorial waters is in violation of US law and contrary to US policy
o "the unauthorized entry of US-registered vessels into Cuban territorial waters is detrimental to the foreign policy of the United States, which is to deny monetary and material support to the repressive Cuban government, and, therefore, such unauthorized entries threaten to disturb the international relations of the United States by facilitating the Cuban government's support of terrorism, use of excessive force, and continued existence"
The full text of the Proclamation an be found at www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2004/02/20040226-11.html
DESTINATIONS
A Visit to Isla de Juventud
by Elena PimentoWednesday, Marina Siguanea
Morning is calm. On the west coast of Cuba's Isla de Juventud (Isle of Youth, formerly Isle of Pines), Bahia de Siguanea looks like a quiet pond surrounded by mangroves; low mountains loom in the distance. We raise anchor in seven feet of water. The grassy mud bottom is dotted with urchins. A large white jellyfish undulates, moving like a plastic grocery bag in the current. The genoa takes us south from our overnight anchorage at Punta de los Indios to the Marina Siguanea entrance at a blazing 1.5 knots, past a large shipwreck in shallow water and the Colony Hotel, once owned by American interests, now owned by the Cuban hotel corporation, Cubanacán.
We do not know if the entrance channel to the marina is deep enough for our 6'3" draft. Two men in a launch come out in quick response to our radio call to lead us in, guiding us along the starboard edge of the marked channel to the bulkhead near the marina office. We lightly graze the sandy bottom once, but we get into the harbor successfully, under the watchful eye of the Guarda Frontera's high-powered binoculars. Three men board to clear us in; the hassles mentioned in Simon Charles' cruising guide do not materialize.
Dark, handsome Gerardo works for the marina and is helpful with the electrical hook-up. He and Tony have to splice wires from our 30-amp plug to the ancient throw switch. The dock charge is 35 cents per foot, including electricity and potable water. Fuel is available at a lower price than at Marina Hemingway, we're told. One other cruising boat is here: it's being stored for a year while the American owners are in Spain.
Gerardo tells us Cubanacán has recently bought the hotel and marina and are looking to improve them. Marina Siguanea is a logical place to develop, due to its location between Maria La Gorda and the eastern half of Cuba. It is already a well-known diving center. They expect cruisers to stop on their way to or from the Cayman Islands, Mexico and Jamaica, as well as those going from North America to Panama. Protection from winter northers is excellent, and nearby Bahia San Pedro is a proven hurricane hole. Access will improve when the harbor is dredged, and pilings are planned for secure Med-moor slips. We are the third boat to come in since the end of hurricane season: a Norwegian boat and a westbound American boat have stopped.
Gerardo introduces us to Ivan, who has a small tourist van. We arrange for Ivan to drive us around the island tomorrow. The regular twice-daily tourist bus is US$4/person round trip, and Ivan must charge $12 for the two of us, but we can negotiate stopping and setting our own schedule.
At last, the electricity is hooked up, the decks are hosed down and we sit in the cockpit to relax. I spy a large, hawk-like bird on the top of a casuarina tree. It has dark wings and a yellow breast and head, with a large orange beak. It eventually flies off, displaying yellow bars on its wings. It is magnificent. Later, I find its picture in the Audubon field guide: it is a caracara, the bird on the flag of Mexico. The southern half of this island has been designated a nature preserve - I can't wait to see more.
Thursday, Drivin' with Ivan
Ivan is delayed due to preparations for a cruise ship tomorrow. At 10:00, he shows up. He is quite pleasant but speaks no English. Tony translates.
The road leading from the hotel just north of the marina towards Nueva Gerona is lined for half a mile with huge white cement sculptures of sea creatures: lobster, crab, conch, gull, anemone, scuba diver. The hotel playground looks long deserted, the paint flakes off the concrete apparatuses and the grass is high. Once past the hotel area, the road takes us through the countryside past groves of grapefruit, orange, lemon, and bananas, row after row of vegetables, grazing cattle, goats, and large Russian-style concrete-block apartment buildings in various states of decay. The pines, casuarinas, royal palms and barrigona palms vary the vistas from savanna to mountain lake to mangrove swamp. Some roads are two lanes, some divided into four lanes, tree-lined and scenic; no road trash of any kind spoils the view.
I am disappointed when Ivan tells us we need a permit to visit the archeological sites on the south coast of the island.
Our first stop is the Presidio Modelo, a prison built in 1925 by prisoners. It was built on the same plan as the penitentiary in Joliet, Illinois; four (of the planned six) five-story circular cell blocks surround a central circular dining hall. Both Fidel and Raul Castro were kept here after the unsuccessful 1953 assault on Santiago's Moncado Barracks. The attractive Spanish-style administrative building and the houses built for the warden and prison officials are now used for a school. Like so many buildings in Cuba, these relics of the past are preserved to benefit people of the present.
The dining hall and one deteriorating cell block, stripped of its iron bars, are open to tourists. From inside, the scale of the buildings is breath-taking. The geometric patterns that the windows, roof, rails and beams create would seem artistic if the purpose and history of this place were not so morbid. An old black-and-white prison movie runs through my head. In the silence, I hear the clank of iron doors and the shuffling clink of chained feet.
It is a short drive to Nueva Gerona, the main city on this island. We cross the Rio Las Casas and stop at the produce market. A few onions, yucca, peppers, pineapple and tomatoes are all there is to buy, though prices are very low. A small pineapple costs four pesos, about six-and-a-half cents. Ivan drives around the town, greeting many friends, stopping at several produce vendors. We buy lettuce and cucumbers, then go to a bakery (four pesos for a loaf of Cuban bread) and a small dollars-only supermarket carrying canned goods, staples and liquor. Ivan looks for the kind of baby formula his infant son needs, but it is not to be found.
It may be lunchtime for us, but the Cubanacán restaurant won't open until 1400. We go to a window at one end of the building and order fried pork slices (US$3.15). Ivan declines our invitation to eat but joins us for a Hatüey beer (two for 20 pesos, 77 cents) and a complimentary plate of olives. The street around us is lively and clean, open to pedestrians and cyclists only, who bustle about at mid-day. A sound truck blaring political speeches pauses in the intersection to compete with four corners of amplified music.
After lunch, Ivan decides to take us home for a quick visit to his wife, Julie, and six-week-old son, Eduardo. He lives in one of the large, brutally rectangular concrete apartment blocks in La Fe, the other town on the island. Inside the building, Ivan's ground floor apartment is cool, clean, colorful and pleasantly furnished. Julie is a primary school teacher on a one-year maternity leave, friendly and very pretty. I take digital photos and coo at the sweet child.
Ivan has some errands to run, the first being to the abattoir to pick up some pork legs for a friend. He tells us that it is a crime to have uncut beef in one's possession - all beef belongs to the government until it is sold through the official butcher. Ironically, the penalty for possession of beef (eight to ten years imprisonment) is more severe than for vehicular homicide (two to three years). Possession of pig is okay, though. Next stop is at a house at the end of a gated dirt road to get milk.
On the way back to the marina, we stop at a citrus grove and pick two large bags of seedless grapefruit. The grove is old and one may grab fruit here but not at the grove across the street, which is owned by a government consortium. The fruit is ruby red and sweet - we will enjoy it for many days, though we insist Ivan take one bag for himself.
Back aboard Habanero III, I print some photos of Ivan and his family as a thank-you for an interesting and enjoyable day. Tony pays him the $12 van fare, adding a $20 tip and some soap and shampoo.
Friday, Ensenada de los Barcos
We go to Gerardo's office to check out. The bill is incredibly small, even with a modest tip. He thinks the tide is rising and we should have no trouble getting out through the channel. The Guarda bring our cruising permit and check us out, then help with our dock lines. They collect no fee.
Motoring out the channel we have inches to spare under our keel. The bay is flat, with only the lightest breeze. We motor north about 19 miles to the Ensenada de los Barcos, at the northwest corner of Isla de Juventud, arriving just after sunset. Anchored in eight feet of water, far from the mangrove covered shoreline, we can see but two single lights. We feel quite isolated from civilization. It is a good anchorage, however, protected by miles of shallow water on all sides.
Saturday, Cayos de los Inglesitos
We arise early as we have a long way to go. The two lights we saw last night prove to be two sailboats at anchor further in, near the shore. We are rigged and ready before 0800 and motor out of the bay. The tide is down, the depth alarm is noisy, but we make it through the channel without incident.
Once we round the corner, the main and genoa carry us past the north coast of Isla de Juventud. We have to tack as our course takes us directly into the wind. The two other sailboats eventually follow us out of the bay, the smaller one disappears from sight quickly behind us, the other tacks until it can fetch Nueva Gerona's river entrance.
The wind is good, the waves low in the shallow Gulf of Batabanó between the island and the mainland. We see little boat traffic, other than a small skiff with two men diving for lobsters, far from land. By 1430 hours, we are at anchor in the lee of the Cayos de los Inglesitos, surrounded by shallow water and uninhabited mangrove-lined cays. Buoys mark the Quitasol channel, and some fishing boats come through. The cays here are much larger than what we expected from the charts. The mangroves here are clearly doing well, and will someday make these cays one large island. Meanwhile, the big island of Isla de Juventud will remain on our list of places we hope to revisit someday.
Elena Pimento is the pseudonym of a US citizen who wishes to avoid the hassles her government would give should her identity be known. She and her husband have cruised the Caribbean since 1996. This is their second trip to Cuba.
Memories of Yacht Haven Marina
- Before the Rats
by David UrbanicIt's official. St. Thomas' Yacht Haven Marina is being demolished. On March 13, the governor of the US Virgin Islands, several government bureaucrats, the press, and the top executives of the new development company met at the decrepit location that has earned the nickname "Rat Haven". The officials smiled for photos, shoveled a little dirt, and smashed a bit of the deserted wreckage - a symbolic demonstration of the real demolition about to begin. This prime waterfront real estate in Charlotte Amalie Harbor, along with the adjacent, previously undeveloped landfill acreage, is slated to house what is touted as the Caribbean's finest mega-yacht marina, a hotel, condominiums, several restaurants, retail stores, and a public park. The politicians orated promises of many construction jobs, many more permanent jobs, and millions of dollars of tax income from the completed facility. The speeches gave hope for the future for the marine industry and boating community of St. Thomas.
I remember when Yacht Haven Marina, founded in the 1960s, was the hub of the universe for boaters in the Virgin Islands, whether they were visiting cruisers and charter guests or long time residents. When I first arrived in 1990, bareboat charter yachts, term charter yachts, and private yachts filled the marina slips. The pink archways of the marina/hotel complex abounded with services and opportunities. The Gourmet Gallery grocery store bustled with the business of provisioning charter boats. Underwater Safaris provided recreational diving services and equipment rentals. PDS provided commercial diving on moorings and boat bottom cleaning. Allen's Yacht Service employed six mechanics and technicians, including myself, to repair engines, electrical systems, and plumbing. Monty and other master woodworkers repaired and created the fine teak woodwork on the boats, while Bruno and Eddie provided professional varnishing services. There were boat housecleaning services, a laundromat, a well-stocked marine store, a canvas sewing service, Reefco refrigeration service, yacht sales office, charter boat clearing houses, and charter boat brokerages. And with all of these jobs available, Captain and Crew provided employment agency services.
A doorman controlled the traffic at the hotel's main entrance, while bellhops loaded or unloaded piles of luggage into taxicabs for arriving or departing guests. A guard controlled traffic at the marina parking lot where still more taxis loaded or unloaded the luggage of charter guests. Gardeners, maids, and maintenance men worked on the never-ending tasks of keeping the lawns and flowerbeds manicured, the hotel rooms clean, and the Caribbean-pink paint fresh and pristine.
Every evening at five o'clock, Yacht Haven transformed from the boating business hub to the boating social center. A steady procession of dinghies and tenders streamed into the marina's ever-rickety, floating dinghy dock and filled every available space. Workers, visiting cruisers, charter guests, captains and crews filled the three restaurants with happy hour revelry. I enjoyed sipping rum at the pool bar in the cool shade of the huge tropical cabana and surrounding trees. Or simply buying a six-pack at Gourmet Gallery and sharing it with friends under the store's outdoor-café style umbrella tables.
The marina represented home for a large family of live-aboard sailors - a family that watched out for each other and took care of each other. I remember when Picasso fell off a moving dinghy and the propeller hit her face, nearly killing her. Paul Drinkwine, the marina manager, donated the use of the docks and his party boat's bar for a charity event. Hundreds of people attended and generously donated money to help cover her medical bills.
I remember when Mathew died at the young age of 36, leaving a widow and four-year-old son. The bareboat companies on C-dock organized a charity auction/party to raise money, and once again the attendance and generosity were awesome.
Of course there was a lot of sibling bickering in the family, but not enough to overpower the family love.
Recently I discovered a photo of Yacht Haven in those good old days. It showed my brother and his wife seated at the umbrella tables, surrounded by palm trees and blooming tropical flowers. My wife and I debated where the photo had been taken. We thought only of the more upscale tourist locales of St. John and the BVI. We had forgotten the beauty of Yacht Haven, the beauty that we had taken for granted nearly every day for many years.
Eight-and-a-half years have passed since Hurricane Marilyn's wrath destroyed the marina. The tropical jungle that was once a garden is being chain-sawed to the earth. The rotted pool bar cabana is a heap of rubble beside a bulldozer. The marina docks stand vacant of all life except the returning laughing gulls. The boating community still has the rickety floating dinghy dock. And now we have the promises of politicians that the marina will return to better-than-ever glory.
June 2004
Who Said 'Never Leave Port on a Friday'?
by Deirdre BarronWe departed Porlamar, Margarita bound for Antigua on Friday, for what we planned would be a three-day passage to Antigua for Classic Week where we had been invited to crew. We also planned to reunite with several cruiser friends whom we first met in Bermuda and subsequently sailed with from time to time. We wanted to have one final rendezvous because our various paths may not cross again as we all have different destinations - Europe for some, home to the US or UK for others, and for some the Panama Canal and west.
Leaving the anchorage in Porlamar we had to navigate through a fleet of sardine fishermen, their boats and numerous nets. Soon we were out and enjoying a pleasant sail with a strong westward current and wind from the east at about 15 knots.
Our wind steering was working well so we were soon able to settle down and enjoy a glorious morning. I always find it difficult to relax much on the first day out on any trip and heading into the wind this time was no exception. Eventually evening came and we traveled on through a wonderful moonlit night, sailing close to our rhumb line despite the westward current.
As a safety precaution before we left, Mike arranged to maintain a regular 12-hourly contact schedule with both Derek (Dream Weaver) in Porlamar, and Charles and Caroline (Itza Purla) then in St. Lucia.
Saturday passed uneventfully as we settled into the routine of a passage, the winds remaining light and the seas calm, and we had the satisfaction of another wonderful night sail with a full moon positively beaming on us.
On Sunday afternoon Mike and I were in the cockpit when at about 4:30 there was a bang. We promptly sat up to attention and looking about us for the source of the noise, we felt the boat round up into the wind - all by itself. What had happened? A swift turn of the wheel soon proved that we had lost our steering.
What to do now? Mike pulled the compass off the pedestal so that he could peek into the steering system below - and lo, there was no chain on the cog.
A small panic session followed, and further investigation via the large cockpit locker (after emptying all the contents so that we could access the engine space and steering well) proved that the wire cable had indeed snapped. A quick search proved that we had no suitable tool to retrieve the chain from the bottom of the pedestal.
By now night was falling - and of course the moon had decided not to bless us on this particular occasion. The time came to make a regular scheduled contact by radio with IP, and we were able to impart our bad news. Charles - being cool, calm and collected as ever - reminded us that we had an emergency tiller on board, which we soon assembled and installed.
Fortunately Mike had made an enhancement to the metal tiller before we left Canada two years ago, so that instead of sweeping the floor at ankle-breaking level it is now about 20 inches high. It soon became clear however, that we could have done with an extra few inches of height, as sitting at the back of the boat and steering is very uncomfortable. One has to bend down to the tiller and simultaneously look up at the instruments that are mounted on the steering pedestal. On a 36-foot boat the space is somewhat limited.
With the tiller in place and full of renewed optimism, we headed off again under sail. Immediately we had another challenge, how to find a way of rigging up a self-steering system for the tiller and at the same time ensuring we stayed more or less on course. We soon learned that we could use spare line and a variety of shock cords to keep the tiller steady. Eventually we found we could get nearly on track, with the boat sailing a few degrees either side of our intended course. The seas were still calm and the wind constant, so we relaxed, had dinner, resumed watches and managed to get some sleep over the next few hours. When morning came we contacted Eric, the weatherman who comes on the ham radio at 6:30AM, and told him of our predicament.
Everyone was very concerned and we welcomed the advice on how to deal with the situation, as well as heaps of moral support.
Later on Monday we decided to head up to Guadeloupe rather than continue to Antigua, our primary destination. By this time we knew that IP would sail up to meet us, and also that two other boats - Willow and Circe - were in the area, listening out for us and also making haste to head to Guadeloupe. It was very heartening to know that we had so much support and lots of people looking out for us and prepared to help us if our situation deteriorated.
At about 6:00PM we were about 40 miles from Guadeloupe, still sailing reasonably well. Our speed was tolerable - about five knots - so our expectation was to make Iles des Saintes by midnight.
Lady Fate intervened, however, and when we began to change course towards land, we found we were steering into the wind, the current and the waves. Everything became vastly less comfortable. Now the Cheshire Cat - a 36-foot monohull - decided she didn't like this course so much (she was headed for the Dominican Republic) and we were obliged to steer by hand, dismantling our improvised self-steering system. We were unable to keep up an adequate course, so we had to motor-sail into the waves and the current and the wind. Our speed dropped from the previous five knots down to one-and-a-half or two knots. Slow, much too slow.
Controlling the emergency tiller was easier said than done as well as exceedingly uncomfortable. We began to take turns on the tiller - a half-hour each, on and off. (My kitchen timer comes in incredibly handy sometimes. We set it every 30 minutes, so one of us could have a short break and rest.) Even though Mike had modified the tiller we still found it difficult to manage in the choppy seas with wind on the nose. We found we had to use both hands to maintain on any sort of a reasonable heading. Trying to steer sitting on a side seat at the back of the boat, having to use both hands to keep the tiller relatively steady and constantly watching the compass on the pedestal from that angle was enormously uncomfortable to say the least. How lucky we were that the weather was fair, and the winds light.
It took us about ten hours to cover the last 15 miles. In addition we had the challenge of another night approach, this time threading through the southwest entrance channel into Iles des Saintes with a reef on one side - without the comfort of beacons or buoys to help show us the way. Even the moon, so brilliant on the previous nights, decided to stay hidden behind clouds. We dropped anchor off Ilet Cabrit at 5:00AM, very thankful to have made another safe and successful landfall.
Two hours later Mike woke to hear on the radio that Eric had a low level "boat watch" out for us, so we had to get busy and let him (and Melodye on the Safety and Security Net) know that we were anchored and safe and sound in Iles des Saints.
Soon our friends from Circe and Willow came on board. They helped pull our anchor up, stood by while we motored across the bay to where our friends were anchored, helped us anchor, re-anchor and even dove on our anchor to make sure it was set properly.
What a welcoming we received! It is such a delight to have good friends standing by in times of need. We felt that any one of them would have come out to meet us and help us cover those last few miles if necessary. Needless to say we had a wonderful reunion that evening (after Mike and I had slept for several hours) and another the next day when Chinook arrived. Chinook had monitored the SSB radio calls and although they can't transmit on SSB they also hurried to be with us.
Chinook very considerately waited for us to complete temporary repairs with replacement wires from Circe in Iles des Saintes and then sailed with us to Deshaies in Guadeloupe and on to the safety of Antigua.
The wire cable had snapped, even though we had replaced it before we left our homeport in Canada. Trying to see why it happened was difficult because the gap between the top of the fuel tank and the base of the steering is about six inches, making it hard to see the pressed metal plate holding the sheaves. Mike noticed that a nut securing the sheave was loose, allowing vertical movement of the sheave. We decided that the best way to tighten it was to take the whole plate off. Upon further scrutiny, he discovered that the metal plate at the base of the assembly had extensive corrosion and the nut had become loose in its seating. The manufacturer, Edson, has been very helpful with information on parts and supplies and we expect to have everything replaced and reassembled within a couple of weeks.
This adventure had a happy conclusion - we are safe, the boat undamaged and the problem can be repaired. The weather was calm and we had a great deal of support. We can make another modification to our emergency tiller. It doesn't bear imagining how we might have fared if conditions had not been in our favour.
Check your emergency steering! A friend checked his and discovered he couldn't find the key to unlock the plate. Another boat that we sailed on in Classics Week also had problems with steering and discovered in the middle of a race that the emergency tiller bent and wouldn't stand the pressure under use. On older boats use a mirror to examine the plate - ours was pressed metal. The pins in the sheaves are bronze and subject to extensive wear, and in our case had worn a deep groove which was not obvious until the pin was removed.
ALL ASHORE
Bats and Fêtes in Tobago
by Marcie Connelly-LynnNot many of our fellow cruisers were heading to Tobago, but it sounded exotic and was off the proverbial beaten path, so we thought we'd give it a try. Sailing southeast from Grenada, Tobago is only about 85 miles - an overnight beat against the wind and current. We left St. George's in early evening and arrived in Scarborough midday the next day. Not a bad passage, but we'd been very spoiled by short daytrips and fine beam reaches between islands for the past few months.
Scarborough is not the preferred anchorage, as evidenced by only two other boats in the small designated anchorage area, but it was fine for a check-in point with Tobago Immigration and Customs and offered a central transportation hub from which to tour the rest of the island and plan our visit. Large banners and posters throughout the downtown area informed us that we were in time for the annual Tobago Heritage Festival taking place in July at various locations on the island. Though everyone is welcome, we were told the festival is designed for Tobagonians rather than tourists. It is a celebration of their rich history and cultural traditions showcased in storytelling, dance, music and food. Events included goat races, an Ole Time Wedding, Carnival, concerts, feasts, and a local pirogue (dugout canoe) race.
Our first trek was to the furthest point of the island serviced by bus, Charlotteville. Getting most anywhere on a bus from Scarborough is quite easy. Tobago is primarily rural. Chickens, goats, sheep and cows wander along the streets unfettered. Life is slow and uncomplicated and the scenic hour-and-a-half ride to Charlotteville, along the southern coast through Roxborough and Speyside reflected the island's pace. On arrival in the tiny town, we found not much more than a couple of streets with a few restaurants and snack bars, but lo and behold, there was an internet café!
A marked hiking path led to Pirate's Bay. The easy 20-minute hike afforded us a spectacular view of the town from our elevated vantage point. A steep stone stairway led to a small pristine beach below. We could see several boats anchored in the deep water and later met cruisers in town enjoying rotis and beer at the local hangout.
The Ole Time Wedding took place the following day in Moriah. The wedding ceremony is a combination spoof on the 17th and 18th century upper class overlaid with African customs and music. Everyone gathers to witness the mock ceremony then follows the groom, in stovepipe hat and tailcoat, as he escorts his bride through the village streets, dancing and singing to the beat of the tambrin drummers and fiddlers.
On the north side of the island, Plymouth was the host town for Tobago Fest's Ole Time Carnival, so we opted to motor-sail around and anchor there to be close to the festivities. The anchorage in Plymouth is pleasant and interesting. So many tarpons leapt from the water one evening, the water roiled around us. Pelicans, laughing gulls and brown boobies congregated on every vacant vessel and held major, very raucous, conferences.
While waiting for the Carnival to begin, we took a walking tour of the town. Fort James, built in 1650, its cannons still watching over the harbor, is small, but picturesque. Several vendors offered us bamboo carvings and local crafts as we walked the grounds. A couple of blocks away, Plymouth's "Mystery Tombstone" is the 18th century grave of a young woman and her child with a riddle for her tombstone's inscription.
The Ole Time Carnival is not just an event. Like most aspects of the festival, it is a celebration of tradition and cultural heritage. Though very small compared to Trinidad's, Tobago's celebration maintains most of the conventional elements of Carnival. Plymouth, usually small and quiet, burgeoned as everyone from the island converged for the celebration. The music was loud and we were serenaded throughout the entire night by a cacophony of sounds, beats and discordant tunes. J'Ouvert began around 5AM we think. The fête from the night before never ended, so it was hard to tell when the morning party began. The street parades the following day were elaborate and entertaining. I especially enjoyed the look on David's face as red and blue street devils playfully picked his pockets for coins. The evening held the finals of the tambrin drum competition, as well as the island's calypso competition. Excellent entertainment held under the stars.
Plymouth was a ghost town on Sunday morning, its inhabitants recuperating from the previous night's Carnival festivities. In a local brochure, we had read about the Arnos Vale Waterwheel Park, a nature preserve and restaurant on the site of an old sugar plantation and decided to take the 2 1/2 mile walk to find it. We enjoy long walks so we took our time and explored a small eco-farm along the way, feasting on ripe mangos provided by the owner. The rustle of the breeze through the bamboo stands caught our attention as the trees clacked together. We caught sight of a colorful mot-mot and also a cocrico, the national turkey-like bird of Tobago. The roads here are narrow and curvy and pedestrians do not seem to have any right of way at all, but again it was Sunday after Carnival and the traffic was light.
From the road, a replica of a waterwheel and a sign for the park were barely visible. There didn't seem to be a restaurant or nature preserve evident at all. There were no cars in the car park and no one was around. We thought the place might be closed. We walked along a thickly-forested footpath and on past an empty guard shack and finally arrived at an elegant, wooden entryway. We tried the door and surprisingly, it was unlocked. We peered inside and were amazed to see tiny white lights highlighting beautiful wooden floors and a gracious foyer. Still, there was no sign of life.
We moved on past a little museum room and a boutique; both doors locked, rooms darkened. Gazing across a long, covered wooden walkway, we saw tables in the distance set with linen. While migrating towards the tables, I noted lots of birds in the eaves. Well, wait a minute, they weren't birds! They were bats - hundreds of them. Disturbed by our presence, they flew and swooped low, barely missing my head. Midst my shrieks of horror and David's shouts to calm down, a young man materialized out of nowhere and with no facial expression at all stated calmly, "Fruit bats. Staying for lunch?" Why not? The "trial by fire" was walking the gauntlet through the bats to our dining table!
Unscathed and all alone in an elegant rainforest setting, we enjoyed a superb gourmet lunch topped off with homemade coconut ice cream. The original waterwheel remains intact and is incorporated as the centerpiece of this lovely restaurant. Paths, lined with giant elephant ears, ginger lilies and heliconia, meandered through the reserve and highlighted the view from the wooden-terraced dining area. Amidst all of the beauty and splendor, I must admit that I did keep a watchful eye on the bats hanging from the eaves.
Back to the boat and time to move on to Trinidad, but pleased that we stopped here and briefly sampled some of what Tobago has to offer. The logo of the Tobago House of Assembly has the inscription "Pulchrior Evenit", Latin for "She Becomes More Beautiful". It certainly holds true for this island and her people.
David and Marcie Lynn, along with their ship's cat, Jelly, have lived aboard Nine of Cups, a 45-foot Liberty cutter, for four years. With plans for a 10-year circumnavigation, they are currently in Ecuador planning to spend another year in South America. Check out their website at www.nineofcups.com.
Are You Prepared to Leave Your Boat?
by Anna HuggettMost of us cruisers are in the age group where the sudden death of a parent far away is something to be considered. When I was faced with such news, I learned things that I'd like to share with you. Hopefully my story might help fellow cruisers avoid some of the hassles we encountered.
It was the 4th of July and we'd been anchored in Charlotteville, Tobago for about a week. Tobago is one of our favorite islands and we were happy to be there. I was in the library, checking my e-mail at their computer, when I saw the subject line with my mother's name listed. My first thought was that she must be sick. The first line read "I don't know how to tell you, but Vera died this afternoon." She had just keeled off her chair while writing; the pen was still in her hand. The e-mail was dated the evening of the 4th - New Zealand is 17 hours ahead of the Caribbean. What a shock. I'd had a great phone conversation with my mother just two weeks previously and she had been very well.
I dashed off a quick e-mail to my daughter saying I'd received hers and would write more when I could think clearly.
A quick dinghy ride back to the boat and Clyff to tell him the awful news. The check list of priorities ran: legal instructions to be set out, decide where to leave the boat, book flights and prepare Koncerto for storage. We had not planned on leaving the boat anywhere till we were back in NZ, so did not have any storage information at hand.
The next few days rushed by.
The floppy drive on our computer was broken, so I approached the people on the boat next to us, whom we had met only days before, and asked if I could use their computer to prepare e-mails. They were wonderful and offered to do anything to help!
With notes in hand, I went over to their boat and found a lovely condolence note and offer to make myself at home. They were going to be off the boat all day, so I could take my time. The e-mails did not copy successfully to my floppy the first time. Not surprising that in my state I had done something wrong. After retyping everything, the e-mails were at last completed. I went ashore to the library to send them. The town's electricity supply was down and not expected to be re-established that day. I tried again the next day, forgetting that the library does not offer internet access on a Saturday. On a previous visit to Tobago, I had used an internet "café" and my floppy caught a bad virus, so I did not want to risk that again. Walking back to the dinghy dock I met cruisers that I had only briefly talked to that morning. They had SSB e-mail on board and would send my messages. Oh what relief!
Monday saw me at the library in Charlotteville, checking for replies. They used to permit cruisers to book one half-hour time slot per day, Monday to Friday, and I was thrilled to use the remaining time of a cruiser who had finished early, as well as my own half hour. (The library has since discontinued all public e-mail use.)
Leaving Koncerto in Grenada was an option, but we chose Trinidad: the travel agency there was within walking distance and also reachable on VHF. We had been advised to be in New Zealand for three months, as I was the executor, and as it was the winter in NZ, I expected to find low-season air fares. No such luck. Our tickets were booked within days of our arrival in Trinidad. The flights, with waits at airports, proved exhausting. We took nearly 40 hours to reach Auckland and 47 hours to return to Koncerto.
It was wonderful to return to Trinidad and Koncerto after three months. Then the fun began. She did not like having been left and lots of things needed fixing. Some problems we could have prevented. For example, we had not flushed the generator intake with fresh water. It had corroded badly and did not work. Prior to our departure we had been under stress, and although we had done all the preparation we could think of, we certainly didn't think of everything. A prepared check list would have helped enormously.
Many cruisers spend months each year back in their home countries and routinely leave their yachts in the Caribbean. Others are permanent liveaboards, and are probably not considering leaving their boat except for a quick sightseeing trip inland, but an unexpected trip overseas could crop up for many reasons (happy ones, as well as sad). Whether you expect to lay up your boat regularly or not, make a check list of all the things you'd need to do to prepare your boat to be left.
Also, investigate what locations in the Caribbean could be convenient and economical places to leave the boat and to fly from. Check if there are travel agencies there that handle international bookings and are easily accessible from the boat. Also check out the choices of flights and routes. Had we had time to consider all routes and airlines, we very likely could have chosen a much kinder trip!
IF YOU HAVE TO LEAVE SUDDENLY:
Where will you leave the boat?
- what island?
- hauled out or in the water?
- if in the water, at anchor or in a marina slip?
Will someone be watching it? Doing routine maintenance?
Will you need to make special preparations for hurricane season?
Will you need to make arrangements or get permission from the authorities to leave the boat and return by air?
Can you fly directly to your destination from there?
Is there an easily accessible travel agency there that handles international bookings?
Is there convenient e-mail and phone access for urgent communications?
If you have boat pets, what provision will be made for them? If they are not allowed off the boat, will you have a pet-sitter, or someone come daily to feed them?
Have you prepared a comprehensive check list of all the things you need to do to lay up your boat?
If this article encourages any fellow cruiser to plan ahead and avoid some of the difficulties Clyff and I encountered, then I shall be delighted.
The Tobago Cays:
Where Will They Go from Here?There have been major developments in the saga of the Tobago Cays Marine Park, but the story isn't over. The debate over the park's future management has not only raised awareness of marine environmental issues, but has highlighted two major Caribbean concerns: the growing demand for truly participatory democracy and the challenges governments face when weighing offers made by foreign investors.
Palm Island Proposal Pulled
As the heat grew under the spotlight of local and international scrutiny beamed on Palm Island Resorts Ltd's (PIRL) controversial proposal to manage St. Vincent & the Grenadines' world-famous Tobago Cays Marine Park (TCMP), Robert Barrett, chairman of PIRL, announced at a press conference held in Kingstown on May 5th that his company was withdrawing the highly criticized plan.
The unprecedented prospect of allowing a private "exclusive" resort company to manage a national marine park on a profit-sharing basis with government had rung alarm bells at local, regional and international levels. Concerns about the PIRL proposal, which were sparked immediately when it was first made public last year, spread rapidly through sectors ranging from the local Chamber of Commerce to the international yachting and marine-environmental communities.
The California-born Barrett, who as early as February had told the local newspaper The News that "I am not sure I want to go forward with this", cited as a main reason for his proposal's withdrawal the flood of messages which Palm Island Resort has received from travel agents and tour operators alarmed by the level of controversy the issue had ignited.
'No More Dead Sea Deals!'
The week before Barrett's announcement, the debate was raised to new levels when, from April 24th to 26th, a group of concerned Vincentian citizens called Friends of the Tobago Cays, together with a coalition of Southern Grenadines-based environmental groups, hosted an open public Tobago Cays Educational Forum.
The Tobago Cays Educational Forum was held during two, one-day sessions, the first taking place at Clifton Harbour, Union Island, and the second in Kingstown, St. Vincent. The purpose of the forum was twofold: to provide an opportunity for open public dialogue regarding the future of the Tobago Cays Marine Park; and to present expert information to the general public regarding the functioning of successful marine protected areas.
The Friends of the Tobago Cays, a not-for-profit and non-governmental organization, exceeded all expectations for the event. In addition to an open invitation to the public, over 200 invitations went out to dignitaries, government departments, community leaders, relevant individuals and organizations, as well as to the local, regional and international media. The April 26th session was also broadcast live on two popular local radio stations, involving thousands of listeners.
After an opening prayer and a welcome from the organisers, Father Mark de Silva of the Mayreau Environmental Development Organisation (MEDO) presented an overview of the Tobago Cays and Kurt Cordice, the Tobago Cays Marine Park's former manager, spoke on the history of the management of the park to date.
Chaired by local environmentalist Mathew Harvey, a cross-section of Grenadines stakeholders, representatives of non-governmental organizations and community leaders then took the stage to eloquently express their concerns regarding the Tobago Cays. Participants included members of MEDO, the Union Island Eco-Tourism Movement, the Union Island Water Taxi Association and the Union Island Association for Ecological Protection. Community activist and former schoolteacher Mrs. Vernalyn Blencowe asked, "When will wheeling and dealing for pieces of the Grenadines end? We are the custodians of the Creator's gifts. How can we change the tide of sell-out deals that turn our marine environments into Dead Seas?"
Voices of Park Experience
Following the stakeholders' addresses, presentations were made by top-level local, regional and international experts in what was a veritable Caribbean marine protected areas summit. Speakers included educators from the Centre for Resource Management and Environmental Studies (CERMES) of the University of the West Indies, and managers of other marine parks in the wider Caribbean region. Also on hand were representatives of major international environmental groups such as The Nature Conservancy, and noted marine biologists from Canada and the US.
Dr. Hazel Oxenford of CERMES, who has been working since 1980 in the fields of fisheries and marine protected areas, discussed the potential for revenue generation by marine protected areas such as the Tobago Cays. She noted the "number of substantive reports [which] have been written about, or are directly relevant to, the TCMP" which contain information and ideas on revenue generation from the park itself, and her paper also listed a wide range of possible sources of donor funding for start-up costs and other special projects.
Her CERMES colleague Dr. Patrick McConney, a former Chief Fisheries Officer in Barbados, spoke on the benefits of "the sharing of responsibility and authority for the management of resources between government and stakeholders", the crucial need for mutual respect between the two, and the improved chance of success if there is broad stakeholder participation in management planning.
From the neighboring island of St. Lucia, the Soufriere Marine Management Area's general manager Kai Wulf shared his experiences since 1994 in setting up and managing a successful and now fully self-sufficient marine park. He touched on the legal, financial and social aspects, pointing out the need to balance state responsibility with local knowledge.
Billy Causey, Superintendent of the Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary, reiterated the importance of vigorous stakeholder involvement and consensus in the management of any successful marine park. He also stressed the roles of effective zoning, scientific monitoring programs, and educational outreach programs. Causey called the Tobago Cays Educational Forum a "very important initiative".
Dr. Nathalie Ward, Director of the Eastern Caribbean Cetacean Network and a consultant with the US National Marine Sanctuaries Program, described the regional SPAW (Specially Protected Areas and Wildlife) Protocol, which SVG was a pioneer in ratifying. She noted that the TCMP management has the opportunity to use the collective wisdom of all SPAW signatories, and as a signatory nation SVG can apply to the United Nations for relevant aid and training.
The attending public was invited to participate in the discussion. A broad cross-section of the people of St. Vincent & the Grenadines, regardless of political affiliation, social status, economic position or place of residence, spoke with one voice: "We must provide the best possible sustainable management for our only National Marine Park - and we can do it!" Citizens were joined by park users such as cruising guide author Chris Doyle, who noted that due to the efforts of grass-roots stakeholders such as the water taxi association, he has recently seen the return of marine life in the Cays such as eagle rays and sea turtles which he hasn't seen there "in 20 years".
The Tobago Cays Educational Forum was hailed by Vera Ann Brereton, SVG's former Director of Tourism, who has also worked in marine tourism in the BVI and Cayman Islands, as a "watershed event". Just nine days later, Palm Island Resorts' proposal was withdrawn in the face of the increasingly intense public debate.
What Next?
Although the Palm Island proposal has been formally withdrawn, in reality, not much may have changed.
At the May 5th press conference, Robert Barrett stated that "under the right circumstances, we would be willing to discuss the charitable funding of the Marine Park in the amount of US$100,000 and offer our assistance on a purely consultation-level basis." He did not divulge to the public what "the right circumstances" would be.
A May 14th press release from the Prime Minister's political party, the Unity Labour Party (ULP), revealed that "Palm Island Resorts Ltd remains engaged. [The critics of the PIRL proposal] got Barrett and PIRL out in one respect, but not in any other. After all, there is the proposed gift of US$100,000 and the free consultancy offer by PIRL, both of which government has accepted."
St. Vincent & the Grenadines' Prime Minister Dr. Ralph Gonsalves has also stated that his government currently intends to manage the Tobago Cays Marine Park along the same lines that were spelled out in the PIRL proposal. The PIRL proposal has been condemned by critics as being long on revenue generation and appallingly weak on environmental protection. It also contains controversial items such as those which specify that Park Rangers would carry firearms and ammunition; that structures including a Rangers' lodge, a dock and wind generators would be constructed on one of the Cays; and that over a hundred yacht moorings would litter the now pristine waters. It is generally recognized that these moorings would mainly be "parking meters" for the purpose of charging a fee or controlling numbers, rather than for environmental protection, as the seabottom of the main anchorage is sand, not coral. The ULP release says that under an adapted version of the PIRL plan, users will pay for entry into the park as well as for the moorings.
According to the release, "Plan B" also calls for a "revamping" of the legislative framework to create a National Parks Authority, under which a Tobago Cays Marine Park Board would oversee the management of the park. A staff made up of a Manager, Marine Biologist, six Park Rangers and office staff would work under the Board. In recent years relevant NGOs, including MEDO, have been represented on the TCMP Board.
However, while MEDO, the other members of the Southern Grenadines environmental coalition and the Friends of the Tobago Cays have all offered to assist the SVG government in developing the most appropriate management system for the Tobago Cays Marine Park (although still objecting to the PIRL model), the government has intimated that anyone who has criticized the PIRL proposal, apparently even those using objective criteria, "cannot reasonably be expected to be involved" in the future decisions regarding the park.
Many writers in the local newspapers of 14 May addressed this anomaly coming from an administration which prides itself on "listening to the voice of the people". The editorial in the Searchlight noted that "our citizens have a right to share contrary opinions on approaches by government to manage this resource."
Columnist Jomo Thomas wrote in The Vincentian: "When the story broke that the government had begun negotiations that would allow a foreign entity to take over the management of the Tobago Cays, many nationals including those connected to Friends of the Tobago Cays and MEDO were up in arms. Their protestations made sense. [But] the government went ahead with its plan [to accept the PIRL proposal] without paying enough attention to the views of the concerned citizens.
"It questioned the motives of the group leaders rather than look into the wisdom of their positions. The groups stuck to their guns and mobilized public opinion. Now the deal is off. The sensible thing for government to do now is to seize this chance to get it right. It should invite all the stakeholders and let them come up with a plan that will enhance the Cays and benefit our country."
DECK VIEW FROM TI KANOT BY CHRIS DOYLE
Clear Message is 'Communication'
at Tobago Cays Educational ForumWhen I read in the April issue of Compass that an educational forum on the subject of the Tobago Cays Marine Park was going to be held, I thought I would further my education and spend a day in attendance at the Kingstown venue. I am really glad I went - the organization was spectacularly smooth, and the speakers all so interesting and articulate that never once did my attention wander.
It should be said at the outset this was to be an educational, non-political forum, but whether we like it or not the issue of the future management of the Tobago Cays has become political. This was particularly in evidence during the late morning session, during much of which a number of stakeholders from the Southern Grenadines aired their views. But what was also clear is that this is NOT a party political issue. Many of those who strongly disagree with the St. Vincent & the Grenadines government on the Tobago Cays issue voted for Labour, and strongly support the current Labour government on other issues.
The Grenadine islanders were spectacularly articulate, and listening to them speak, one after the other, we got a clear message of their plight and their plea, the essence of which can be summed up as:
"We live in the Grenadines - yet virtually every decision that has been made about our islands, by whatever administration, has been made on mainland St. Vincent without our participation and consent. We are tired of this.
"Years ago we were free to come and go as we pleased on all the Grenadine islands - they were our islands. But one by one they have been sold or leased to foreigners. Now we no longer feel at home in PSV, we do not feel welcome on Palm Island, and we cannot go freely to Mustique except as workers. We must beg permission to set foot on well over half of Canouan. Please Vincentians, help us, your fellow citizens, to prevent the final indignity of having our Tobago Cays National Park put under the control of a stranger."
As foreigner myself and a yachtsman, I could sympathize with this message. We on yachts were once made to feel exceptionally welcome throughout the Grenadines. But as many of the islands have been turned into fancy - literally "exclusive" - resorts, the attitude towards us has also changed. PSV, which used to host one of the best regattas in the islands, now only tolerates yachts, and on many evenings their bar is closed to non-hotel-guest visitors. We can still visit Palm Island, but a rope fence attempts to keep us off the best beach, and the bar is only for the very well heeled. (For the price of two fruit punches on Palm you could buy 15 beers in Bequia's New York Bar.) Mustique limits the number of visiting yachts by a system of moorings and fees. And, of course, like residents of the Grenadines, we yachting visitors need to get permission to walk in the northern part of Canouan. What's next?
The rest of the forum featured presentations by knowledgeable guest speakers who had come from near and far, and the Friends of the Tobago Cays has to be congratulated for assembling top professionals in the environmental and Marine Park fields from the Caribbean, Canada and the USA. From these experts, we got an excellent overview of how marine parks work, how they are financed and why they succeed - or fail.
As many people of the Grenadines voiced a demand for meaningful participation when decisions are being made which affect their lives, I noticed that several of the overseas guest speakers also came out with a similar message: In building a park such as this, the vital building blocks are communication and trust between those installing the park and the stakeholders and users. Without this, there WILL be conflict and problems. Billy Causey, head of the Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary, was perhaps the most eloquent on this subject. He had "been there and done that" - he first tried it the wrong way, imposing the park from the top down instead of building it from the bottom up. And he did have problems - lots of them. He showed us a slide of an effigy of himself being hung from a lamppost, in protest against him, NOAA (the federal agency under which the park is run) and the park itself. He managed to rectify the situation by going back to the stakeholders and users, listening to them and gradually winning their trust. Today he - with reliance on public input - runs a hugely successful park. But his photos were stark reminder that ignoring the will of the people is not the way to go.
One question put by the audience to the forum's panel of experts was whether they had any experience of a "privatized" national marine park, such as Palm Island Resorts Ltd. (PIRL) envisaged for the Tobago Cays. Unfortunately the experts could not help us here, as none of them had ever heard of such an arrangement being used before, but Dr. Patrick McConney of CERMES (the University of the West Indies' Centre for Research Management and Environmental Studies in Barbados) was very eloquent on the subject of communication, participation and negotiation, and how to go about seeking common goals.
By arranging this first-class conference, Friends of the Tobago Cays has shown itself to be a committed group that is capable of excellent organization. At this point, they are the only group providing a vision for the Tobago Cays that is a viable alternative to the highly controversial proposal which was made by PIRL and is still, apparently, considered a usable model by the government. Several people have asked me if there is anything that concerned individuals, businesses and groups can do to help the Tobago Cays Marine Park. Well, the Friends of the Tobago Cays is now an official organization, and if you give them a contribution it will be used to further the educational effort, raise awareness of the Tobago Cays in St. Vincent and keep the debate open.
Donations can be made by check or International Money Order payable to "Friends of the Tobago Cays", bank account #69895, St. Vincent Co-operative Bank Limited, P. O. Box 886, Kingstown, St. Vincent & the Grenadines. For information on wire transfer or other methods of payment to this account, phone the bank at (784) 456-1894, or e-mail svcooperativebank@karibcable.com.
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