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November 14, 2007
Tobacco Range, Belize
So there we were ...
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On Monday morning over the Northwest
Caribbean Radio Net, we heard our friends from s/v Litbe
check in. We met them last March during the great
rescue-the-other-trawler-off-the-reef
incident at Spruce Cay, and they also opted to spend
hurricane season on the Rio Dulce, departing in October.
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They told us they were on their way out to
the atolls – Lighthouse and Glovers Reefs – and we thought
it might be a good idea to have some company for the trip.
We agreed to meet up at the south side of a teeny tiny
little place called Rendezvous Cay, where we would meet the
folks from Sea Biscuit and Come Monday. The day was stern
and grey, with northerly winds from 15-20 knots that we had
to head into. The fur princess was unhappy again, but only
for a few short hours.
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When we got up to Rendezvous Cay, Torrey of
Litbe was poised in his wetsuit, in his dinghy, with a
handheld depth sounder, motioning us in like we were a 737
coming to gate E-11 – in this case to the port of all three
sailboats, toward the western corner of the cay. We dropped
the anchor, backed down, and didn’t hold. So we tried
again. And again. Then read in the cruising guide that the
anchorage is “poor holding, with sand over hard coral.”
Hmmm. So we moved over to the east side of the Cay –
starboard of the sailboats, and had no luck there either.
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Now when we say a “teeny tiny little cay,”
we’re talking yards long by feet wide, with a few scraggly
pines and palms and a bit of a fringe reef running from
either end.
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Because it was 4:00 in the afternoon,
edging toward twilight, Ole opted to dive into the line
locker to dig out the spare anchor – a 65-lb CQR – to
exchange with the Bruce that wasn’t setting. Now I’m not
saying anything untoward about my captain, but it did make
me laugh to see him on his hands and knees throwing things
out of the locker, muttering to himself. I don’t know, it
just seemed badger-like. When the anchor was finally
uncovered, the question at hand was, “how did I ever get
this thing IN here???”
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By about 4:45, we found a place to drop
the hook on the port side of the sailboats in 11 feet of
water, and it stuck. Barbara over on Litbe told us not to
cook – she had hors d’oeuvres and dinner all ready for us.
We enjoyed homemade bread, great sloppy joes and beans –
Then it all went horribly wrong.
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The wind suddenly kicked up to about 30,
and within seconds, Torrey was up and out the door shouting
something about dragging anchor. The folks from Come Monday
were out the door and onto their dinghy in a blinding flash
to check on their anchorage, leaving Ole and me and the
folks from Sea Biscuit to help Torrey try to secure Litbe
again, in 30-knot northerly winds, with a hand-operated
anchor windlass and a 65-horesepower diesel that sounded
like it had got up in a bad mood. Torrey and Mike were on
the bow, which was pitching 6-7 feet straight up and down as
they tried to haul up the anchor, and dousing them with
green water on every down pitch. Ole manned the engine, Sue
watched the depth sounder, and Barb and I manned the
electrical panel and the ashtray from inside the warm, dry
cabin. All I kept thinking through all of it was what could
possibly be happening to Emma Jo.
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I couldn’t begin to remember how many
times they tried and failed, but after about an hour and a
half, they were stuck enough to run us back to the boat in
their dinghy. The good old CQR did a fine job, but we opted
to stand an anchor watch throughout the night. We set the
anchoring alarm on the gps, and over the course of the night
watched the wind turn a complete 180°
by 4:30 a.m., pointing our stern toward the shallow(er) end
of the island. By about 5:00, we decided we’d sweat enough,
so hauled up to find a secure place to get some sleep.
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We headed for Sapodilla Lagoon, got
there, anchored, and fell over at about 9:30 am, sleeping
until about 2:00 in the afternoon. It was the perfect place
– flat calm and quiet. On the net the next morning, Litbe
called us again, inviting us to join him further north in
the Tobacco Range, just spitting distance from Southwater
Cay and Pass, making it possible for a direct jump out to
Glovers Reef if the weather permitted.
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So off we went, deciding to run the
watermaker while underway, and discovering a cheap-ass
plastic elbow fitting had broken, rendering the watermaker
caput, and us with less than half a tank with no supply in
sight. We arrived at Tobacco Range, a couple of mangrove
cays shaped like offset parentheses, just about lunchtime,
finding Litbe anchored in the windiest part of the lagoon.
We shared our watermaker troubles, and Litbe and Sea Biscuit
dinghied over with an assortment of fittings to Rube
Goldberg a repair together. Back in bidness.
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Late in the afternoon, a family of dolphin
cruised into the lagoon for a feed, but didn’t get close
enough to us to photograph. Cameron and Jenny, a young
couple of marine biologists aboard their sailboat Velela,
were out kayaking and within 10 yards of the dolphin, just
as the sun was getting lower in the sky.
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For the kindness of watermaker help, we
hosted spaghetti dinner with homemade focaccia for everybody
in the anchorage – YUMMM. So far a record of 8 for dinner
aboard – there were Torrey and Barbara from Litbe; Mike and
Sue from Sea Biscuit; Cameron and Jenny from Velela; and us.
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| We hoped that the weather would improve
enough to get out to Glovers Reef atoll – the sun came out,
but the wind was cruising along at 20-25 knots. Upon
reflection, looking ahead to getting to Panama by Christmas,
we may have to curtail the Glovers Reef trip and head
straight for the Bay Islands of Honduras. |
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Jan the Webmeister
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