1. Since leaving the deserted island of Barbuda with it’s excellent wifi , we have been in St Marteen, one of the most developed islands in the Eastern Caribbean that has no wifi unless we take the computers into McDonalds and there are only so many Macca Breakfasts I can handle; and
2. We promised a fellow cruiser who provided directions for us safely navigate the wreck and reef strewn waters of Barbuda that we would tell no-one of the true beauty of Barbuda so others would not follow and ruin the tranquillity that is Barbuda.... so you will have to judge for yourself whether I am telling the truth in this blog or just dissuading others from following...
After much nail biting and “discussions” on which parts of Barbuda I was allowed to take Where II (Coco Point in, Spanish Point is out, Low Bay is questionable or so the missus thinks) we were ready to head north to Barbuda. We spent several hours pouring over the charts and Doyle’s guide chartlets to define a safe (read very safe) course to Barbuda. This was not easy as no two charts agreed, however we had been told that Doyle’s charts were pretty much as good as they got. WE were concerned that they did not show a large submerged rock close to where we wanted to anchor in Coco Point that was on our Navionics electronic charts, but as they say, your eyes are the best navigational tool so we set sail with a little bit of trepidation (Of course I try and hide mine so Karen doesn’t realise that I don’t really know what we are getting ourselves in for, but what the heck – you only live once and we have survived the rocks once before in our rock solid cat!)
The sail was uneventful with the sails up 45mins after we left Dickenson Bay getting ever closer to those reefs until about an hour from our destination we turned to wind and dropped the sails for the motor in through the rocks and reefs (okay – there weren’t that many but we didn’t want to add to the 300 odd wrecks that are scattered around the Barbudan waters. The motor in was also uneventful, keeping close to the route we had set. We saw some of the reefs, but never those submerged rocks so we thought Doyle must have been right and the rocks displaced in a hurricane (we have since been told that they are there so I am glad we didn’t anchor too close!)
Coco Point is just stunning – a long pinky white beach with coconut palms (planted around the two resorts) and nothing else but the hint of the private airstrip that services the one working resort (Coco Point Resort – such imagination with the names). Once anchored I did the Heinrick Manoeuvre (diving on the anchor to see that we were set – naming of this manoeuvre is another long story that I won’t get into here) and relaxed to check we were set and of course got out the wifi antennae and hooked up to the world while taking in the glorious surrounds, with only 2 other boats at anchor.
There was a prediction of northerly swells a couple of days out that could possibly turn Coco Point into an untenable anchorage that we needed to watch but other than that it was relaxing in Paradise, until...
Just as we were settling in to this beautiful bay, a new Leopard 46 arrived and I couldn’t believe it, it turned directly in front of us, stopping what seemed a couple of boat lengths away, dropped the pick and started backing up on us. “Bloody Frenchmen” I thought as I picked up my bitch wings and headed to the bow.... But no! It was an Aussie flagged boat!!! After I picked up my jaw from the deck, they looked back (I am sure with a smile on their face) and picked up their hook and moved. “Must have been taking the mickey” I thought giving them the benefit of the doubt...
Well by the end of the day there were about 15 boats at anchor so I don’t feel so bad about telling people about Barbuda, because obviously a lot know.
Next morning we went and visited the jokers on their very nice “Scolamanzi” and found the second joke they pulled was their accents. The Queenslanders, Henriette and Johann invited us aboard with very noticeable South African accents. And despite having been in Aus for over a decade, Johann inexcusably still barracks for the Boks....
After a tour of the boat (which resulted in an order for a Intervac central vacuum by the cheese and kisses as a result of BE – boat envy), and discussions on the weather (which resulted in Scolamanzi upping the anchor and heading to Spanish Point to avoid the northerly swell) we headed into the beach for a stroll and swim. The swell was a bit unpredictable but we did manage to put ashore near the K Club (now defunct, but apparently Princess Di’s favourite resort, which Karen tucked away in the gossip filing cabinet) and enjoy the beach. As we approached the other resort, the resort security approached us and explained we were welcome to enjoy the beach, but could not enter the property above the beach line. I am not sure the photos do it justice, but the beach is beautiful, with a tinge of pink from the broken shells.
We continued down the beach to the point and looked across to Spanish point to gauge (or at least I was) how difficult it would be to navigate the reefs safely if required.
Back on the boat and another check of the weather confirmed that our options were to bug out of Coco Point for Antigua, or buzz round the corner to Spanish Point to hide from the oncoming swell. Well after a lot of discussion, a quick call to our new friends on Scolamanzi and some very detailed work on the charts, we agreed that next morning we would become experienced reef navigators and head into White Bay at Spanish Point! (See I knew I would get my way)
The sun was up and the sky reasonably clear the next morning so at noon we upped anchor to head round with the sun almost directly above and moving behind us. We had a very detailed route on the chart plotter and a very nervous reef spotter on the bow and an only slightly less nervous helmsman as we motored around the corner.
We slowly and carefully worked our way around the point and zigzagged our way through the reefs, Karen very competently spotting all the reefs and Bommies (coral heads) with ample time to ensure we safely manoeuvred towards the reef (her very dry mouth made competent communication of these facts a bit more difficult but flailing arms and nervous steps can say alot). As we were nearing White Bay, I made a mistake, instead of following our route, I decided to head towards Scolamanzi, despite a couple of “obstacles” on the chart. These ones were actually there, but as I approached, my spotter kindly indicated my error, and with an “all Astern” I backed out of the reef with no contact at all – luckily as I would never have lived it down, nor been allowed to go within 100 miles of a reef again!
We dropped anchor exactly where we planned, but with rocks close by the next 24 hours was a bit nervous as we constantly monitored our track and watched how we swung in relation to these “Navigational Hazards” in the photo below – things looked the same from all sides of the boat!
Well it seemed that the northerly swells were set in and we were stuck in White Bay with strong winds, lots of sun, waves crashing over the point and clear, clear azure waters. We were in about 15 feet (yes I have succumbed to talking in the ancient imperial measurement system due to the abundance of North Americans down here) and you could see the ripples in the sand from the deck! (You may need to look very closely at the photo tho’)
We spent 11 days in this delightful place – no shopping, no bars, just beaches, reefs and water. We caught up with some friends from Grenada (Hummingbird, Act 3) and met new ones as we enjoyed a impromptu pot luck on the beach one night, dinner on Scolamanzi and drinks aboard Hummingbird. We met the owners of a Canadian 42 PDQ catamaran that had designed his own hybrid system using Fischer Panda technology (including litium Ion batteries worth $25,000). It was a different design philosophy to the Lagoon , but he loved it even though it did take him two attempts to get the system to work properly on a cruising catamaran.
We snorkelled, walked along the beach, played bocce (although the beaches in White Bay were narrow and you had to watch out for the donkey poo obstacles) and of course worried about when the swell would drop and how we would get the hell out of the reef obstacle course. The island is interesting in that it is small and inhabited by only 1600 people who effectively live in one village, Codrington, and the rest of the island is uninhabited so you could go for walks and be totally alone with only the sounds of the waves.
We saw lots of evidence of wildlife, past and present in the form of the above mentioned donkey poo, vacated land tortoise shells, interestingly coloured conch shells and other stuff. We were a little disappointed in the snorkelling as the reefs appeared a little dead compared to other islands we have visited.
Apart from enjoying the beauty of the island we also to a stroll to windward side to the surf beaches and were absolutely amazed at one low swooping white sandy beach. From a distance it looked stunning and very inviting – and we had it all to ourselves. However, when we got up close and personal, it became obvious, that all was not as it seemed.
Garbage Beach
Strewn along the beach was more garbage than I had ever seen – gin bottles, rum bottles, old buoys, crates and all manner of flotsam – all apparently wash up from being discarded or washed overboard from passing ships – it made us vow never to throw any rubbish overboard. It also instigated our cruising garbage collection system – now we use my finished 1.75l rum bottles (there are an abundance of those aboard) to collect all our packaging material. You would not believe it but in that one little bottle I fitted over 1.5 weeks of garbage, excluding organics and recyclables! We also did our bit and took away what we could carry (ok it was two nice packing crates that fit nicely in our front locker).
After 11 days it was time to say “Hasta la Vista” to White Bay no matter how idyllic our surrounds we, and following our track in (except where that little mistake was made) in reverse, we slowly made our way round Coco Point and headed north to Low Bay for a couple of days (an unfortunately short stay as beers were running low).
Low Bay is another 16 mile pinkish white beach with a couple sparse resorts on in (one near Codrington and one at the southern tip). We anchored near the Light House Bay resort and again got good wifi!
We spent the afternoon relaxing, watching the anchor track and of course taking advantage of the wifi – Karen even rang home on skype. We also organised to be picked up the next morning to visit the frigate bird rookery. We were in two minds if it would be worth the US$50 but thought it would probably be one of those things that other people would rave about and we would be disappointed if we didn’t go.
Next morning we were up early and went to meet our water taxi on the strip of white sand south of the resort.... have a look at the photo and imagine that beach went on for 16 miles then you tell me where you think we were going to meet him.... Well it turned out to be easier than we thought, another taxi driver was on the beach on at the resort and he called us in and then pointed us in the right direction and our guy appears on the beach and helps us haul Debbie up the beach to the fence.
Our guide, organised through George Jeffrey, was a professional power house operator who did tours and water taxi work part time to make ends meet. He was very informative about the island and the frigate bird rookery. In fact we learnt more about frigate birds than anyone really has the right to know!
The blokes do all the hard work, puffing up there bright red neck to attract the female. After she has checked him out and decides if his bright red neck is sufficiently large, his real estate, nice enough and he won’t embarrass her with her friend’s, she sends him out to gather building materials and build the nest. If he does a good job, he is rewarded with sex (does this seem familiar to you guys). She then gets up the duff and sends him out to get the food.
This story does have a familiar ending though. After about 2-3 months of this the bloke gets to leave for another colony and the girl has to stay behind and look and he gets to do it all over again!
After the tour we headed back in to Codrington to clear out.
Now checking out in Codrington is not something you want to do by yourself. Yes, it is a safe place and the people are friendly, but it is complicated and it is very difficult to find the customs and immigration offices. Customs is near the airport, in a house and I could not see the sign until it was pointed out to me by our guide. After about 1 ½ hours, all was done and we just needed to do some shopping for fresh and beer (I had run out!) and we were done. Unfortunately I forgot to tell the taxi driver I wanted beer and we missed that stop and not much fresh in the supermarket so not much shopping done.
The taxi driver suggested if we wanted a beer, we could stop at the resort before heading back to the boat which we did. It is a beautiful resort with the bar overlooking Low Bay and Where II.
In addition to the US$20 beer and juice, the manager gave us a tour of the resort rooms, which were fantastic. Full suites with huge bathrooms, a full kitchen (with wine chiller but no cooking facilities) and large bedrooms. At $1500 a night, I suppose it is what you would expect as I have never and will probably never pay that for a room, but all food and drinks are include at that price and if you stay 3 nights you get a complimentary one way helicopter transfer from Antigua!
After that it was back to the boat to prepare for tomorrows trip to St Bart’s and onto St Martins the next day. We tried to sort out our Gennaker but had no luck so it looks like it is a motor sail west for us.
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