For many years Brenda and I have been told that we are “living the dream” to be free to sail wherever we want, whenever we want. To be aboard Pandora for months at a time does feel, to me at least, to be a bit of a dream at times. Brenda, on the other hand, may not always have the same view.
However, right now, as we sit here in Antigua, unable to do much of anything ashore and completely unsure how we are going to get Pandora home before the hurricane season begins in June, it is feeling like more of a nightmare than a dream.
Don’t get me wrong, we are in an idyllic spot, here in Jolly Harbor, with views each day that most will only see during a week long tropical holiday. Today’s sunrise over the distant mountains.
Montserrat, in the distance, complete with it’s own active volcano.
A couple out for a bit of early morning SUPing.
Yes, all of this is wonderful but for us, but much different than in past winters, when we spent time with friends and could predict, with certainty, when and how we would be heading home in the spring. After 7 winter seasons afloat, we have more or less, gotten into a pattern and one that has been predictable, until now.
Now the only thing that has been predictable for the last few weeks is that we can’t predict what’s going to happen at all, even a few days from now.
Every day seems to bring yet another change, often more dramatic than the last. As an example, about an hour ago the Prime Minister of Antigua announced that a week long 24hr curfew will go into effect as of midnight tomorrow. This means that only essential travel will be allowed, limited to food shopping or emergencies but that’s it, stay home or risk arrest. Gatherings will be limited to no more than two individuals and no kissing on the lips. (Ok, I made the no kissing part up.)
It has been breathtaking to see how fast predictable has given way to unpredictable. A month ago we headed to St Lucia and the marina at Rodney Bay to spend a few days while having a new refrigeration compressor installed. Nearly three weeks later, our plans were totally up in the air and we decided to extend our stay to a full month only to make a decision to leave abruptly and sail to Antigua two hours later. A last minute change of plans prompted by hearing that Antigua was planning to close the island to any and all arrivals in two days.
Since we have been here, and it’s only been a few days, Antigua has gone from closing their boarders to a complete lock down. Yesterday we went to the grocery store and to us it felt like we were courting death. The space between the shelving felt particularly tight and it seemed like there just too many people in a small space. We heard from friends that today there is a line out to the street, even to get into the store and no amount of social distancing to handle such crowds.
Yesterday the crowds were very light and yet we still felt very exposed, with shopper feeling like a threat and them viewing us in the same way. One shopper, obviously a cruiser, somehow managed to touch every one of the rotisserie chickens on the shelf, trying to choose the best one. It was all that I could do not to call him out on it. When I came around the end of an isle, I turned the other way if it was too crowded, which always seemed to be the case. No squeezing by for me, but as a result, so we were in the store for nearly an hour.
I’ve never been particularly good about washing my hands, but now I have become fairly compulsive about it. The grocery store had two sinks, one on either side of the entrance so shoppers could decontaminate themselves before entering. And, as if that wasn’t enough, I was still hand sanitizing with my own spray bottle, ever few minutes. I read that the handle on a shopping cart has more bacteria than a public toilet. At least my fear of virus means that I have at least one tiny thing in common with Trump.
As awkward as it is to be stuck here in Antigua, just about everyone we talk to in the US feels that we are much safer here. It seems that in the US, every day brings increasingly bad news, with little improvement in sight.
Sure, it’s beautiful down here but I have to say that it just isn’t the same when things are so up in the air and we are so far from home.
Facebook has never been particularly high on my list but nowadays, I feel like it’s a lifeline to keep us connected with friends and family. At least it has some humor, if often dark, to lighten the mood.
Being in such close quarters aboard Pandora, with so much uncertainty, has frankly gone better than we might have expected, and that’s good. This short piece seems to capture the mood pretty well. I wonder if Brenda would choose A.
So before you think “Oh, poor Bob and Brenda, stuck in paradise aboard their yacht, how sad.” Think about how you’d feel to be “sheltering” with your partner in a space that is about the size of a bathroom as there isn’t any other option.
While some cruisers are willing to wait it out here to see what happens next, many have had their boats hauled here in Antigua and other islands and have headed home, accepting the reality that their boats may very likely be in harms way, with nearly all of the islands deep within the hurricane belt.
However, finding the best place to keep a boat tough as so many islands have completely shut their boarders. For those wishing to keep their boats outside of the hurricane belt, Grenada and Trinidad are the only reasonable option and both are completely cut off, not allowing any new arrivals. So, many cruisers are sitting and hoping that things will open up before the first hurricane of the season hits.
While many of our cruiser friends have headed home, they are still emailing and messaging us regularly, wanting to know how we are doing. It’s very nice.
To that point, one good thing about the timing of this new-found isolation is that it’s happening in a year when connectivity for us is at an all time high. Being able to call family and friends at will is making our time away, in the midst of so much uncertainty, makes things a lot more bearable.
After years of frustration in trying to find a way to stay in touch while traveling, our Google Fi phone has proven to be a God-send, allowing us to do video chats with our sons Rob and Chris and their families, nearly every day, from the comfort of Pandora. As recently as two years ago, during our last winter afloat, we had no way to connect, beyond text and email, unless we went ashore to somewhere with strong WiFi. With our Google service we are finding that the data on the phone is generally better than WiFi ashore.
Great connectivity comes in very handy for virtual “happy hours” in the evening family and friends, particularly our friend Craig, who is living in Detroit these days, and that’s been a nice way to have a proper evening toast on occasion.
Friends are still getting together here, albeit at a safe distance. A popular evening pastime is to tie a few dinks together and drift around the harbor. Out in the wind, a good distance apart, the risk is less, we hope. However, with the new restrictions in place here in Antigua, groups of more than two are not allowed so even an outdoor drift is no longer an option and perhaps isn’t wise anyway.
Walks on the beach are a nice way to spend time. Social distancing was very easy on this deserted beach, not far from Pandora.
A peaceful moment in a world that feels anything but peaceful.
A reminder, a school of tiny fish in the shallows, that life goes on, virus or not.
And its been great to have a beach nearby with decent shelling. A pretty nice haul.
We’ll have to come up with some sort of craft project to do with our granddaughter Tori using these shells. I expect that Rhett and Emme are too young and would just try to eat them, so perhaps not a good idea just yet. Perhaps in a year when they are three.
I will admit, that in the middle of the night, I am wondering if we are making the right decision just waiting here to see what the next month brings. Will we be able to do the shorter run to the US through the Bahamas, now completely closed off to cruisers not already there, or will we be forced to sail west, the 1,100 miles from the USVIs to Florida with just the two of us on board. While the run to Florida from the USVIs is only a few hundred miles closer than a straight shot to CT, at least it’s a downwind sail and would be a lot easier on Brenda.
Better yet, will travel restrictions be relaxed so that she can fly home and crew come down to make the run north with me? Who knows, but we are hoping that in a month, now that the administration seems to have finally taken the threat seriously and is encouraging everyone to stay home, that things will settle down and be safer for travel.
So, here we sit, trying to figure out what the best course of action is, hoping that things will improve and that we will be able to bring Pandora home with a minimum of fuss.
One thing I have been focused on, to pass the time, is finishing things that I have needed to get to but somehow have overlooked or put off. To that point, I ran into this bit of timely advice shared by a fellow cruiser from an authority on such things…
“Heard a Dr. on TV say to get through the boredom of self isolation we should finish things we start and thus have more calm in our lives. So I looked through the boat to find all the things i’ve started but hadn’t finished…so I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of Chardonnay, a bodle of Baileys, a butle of wum, tha mainder of Valiumun srciptuns, an a box a chocletz. Yu haf no idr how feckin fablus I feel rite now. Sned this to all who need inner piss. An telum u luvum xtherIn”
Well, as goal oriented as I may be, the day is young so perhaps I’ll wait a few more hours before I work in earnest on things aboard Pandora that are not “done”.
As someone once said, “sheltering on a boat is sort of like being in a prison cell, with the possibility of drowning”. Yeah, that’s what Brenda says and that’s when things are “normal”, and things are definitely not normal now.
All of this speculation about using crew as an alternative to just me and Brenda bringing Pandora home, is probably wishful thinking but I am really hoping that things do change.
Anyway, here we are in Antigua not knowing what the future will bring and doing our best to stay connected.
So far, so good and, to date, no sign of the virus aboard Pandora.
We are now sitting aboard Pandora for a two week quarantine hoping that the island will open up soon. However, given the risk of infection at any point, we are effectively quarantined indefinitely, here or at home when that day finally arrives.
As of yesterday, Saturday, all hotels and most businesses are shuttered and all flights bringing people to Antigua have been stopped. A few flights are still coming in empty to pick up travelers that wish to return home. However, that is not an option for me and Brenda as it would not be wise to leave Pandora here during the hurricane season.
Frankly, it would be so appealing to just put Pandora on the hard and jump on a plane to the US. However, with the constant stream of bad news coming out of the US we are probably a lot safer here than at home. Additionally, with deductibles for losses in hurricane zones so high, I doubt that we’d be in a position to replace Pandora if the need were to arise, something that I’d prefer not to think about. However, given our predicament, I am afraid to have Brenda weigh in on all that.
It’s lovely and in different times we’d be heading ashore for a drink or dinner. However, now there is nobody there except one or two security guards keeping an eye on things.
I had left the boards in Dominica when we left as I was at a loss on how I was going to secure them down below so that they would not shift underway. With lots of sensitive electronics and equipment under the cockpit, where I wanted to store them, I needed to be absolutely certain that they would not come loose in rough conditions. After a few hours I had secured the wood in the locker under the cockpit. It was a hot sweaty job. Yes, it was that tight back there.
Getting three 5.5′ long boards through that tiny opening was no simple feat. 

I expected them to order me to head further offshore as I had heard that transiting vessels were required to honor their territorial waters, 12 miles out. They didn’t say a word. Hearing nothing, I decided to reach out to them and explained that we had no plans to stop and were in transit for Antigua. Their answer, “please pass to our stern”. We did.
When the sun goes down I enjoy being on the water even more as it’s cool and there isn’t much to worry about with most boats in port. We saw a lot of squalls in the distance but none passed us to wash the salt off.
After our two day run, with a stop in Dominica to rest, we pulled into St John Harbor, normally used by commercial shipping only.
There wasn’t a lot of activity in what is usually a very busy port.
Containers were being lifted off of the one ship in port, one of several that arrive here from Miami each week. Some of the locals have expressed anxiety that shipments of food may be disrupted by the increased quarantine. So, far, so good.
When we are underway for distances that go beyond day sailing between islands, we put our dink on deck. Securing things properly is quite a process involving full deflation and securing it carefully with straps and ties. When we arrived in St John we had to re-launch to get ashore for customs and immigration.
We had heard from friends, who cleared in a few weeks ago, that it was quite difficult to get ashore as the docks are set up for cruise ships, not small private boats. They had to scramble up tall ladders onto the dock. Until recently, cruisers were able to clear into other harbors but in order to have better control over arrivals, the government has designated St John as the only place to clear in. They set up a convenient containment area and clearly brand new, floating dock to tie up to.
We aren’t the only ones “sheltering” here in Antigua. How about this yacht Joy. I doubt that they feel all that bad being forced to hang out aboard.
How about a bit of fun on the water slide, day sailor, jet ski, you name it.
A round of basketball on the bow?
Brenda often says that her “natural state is asleep”. How about this as a perfect spot for a nap or…
All rested? I expect that they won’t be eating Ramen noodles for dinner any time soon. “Jasper, please fetch me a margarita, on the rocks and a glass of champagne for the little lady.”
According to the official Joy website, the owner Sameer Gehlaut is a business owner from Mumbai India and when he commissioned the yacht, launched in 2016, his brief was to “create something different than any other yacht”.
So, back aboard Pandora. At least the view from aboard Joy isn’t any nicer than this. It’s a beautiful place. I just wish it was under different circumstances.
So, that’s the news from Pandora. Quarantined in Antigua for now but who knows what the future will bring.
And we are still here. That’s what Brenda and I decided yesterday about our plan to head north from Rodney Bay to the USVIs to hook up with the Salty Dawg Homeward Bound flotilla to the US.
You could shoot off the proverbial cannon here and not hit anyone.
A week ago, this place was packed.
A lone kitty making the rounds.
This sign about sums it up.
So, here we sit, probably safe from infection given the fact that just about everyone is gone so “social distancing” is not a problem.
I put these little colored plastic pieces in between the links, every 25′, a different color pattern marking each segment. I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to keep track of which color pattern is for which length but I should be able to at least count each marked link, 25′, 50′, 75′. Let’s hope that I can still add and that the pieces don’t fall out. Time will tell, about those pieces and my continued ability to count.
As of this afternoon, Monday, I have finished all of the chores that I can think of, including multiple visits to the market to accumulate provisions for a month and several trips to the fuel dock to be sure that all our tanks are full, not knowing when or if, we will be able to get more. The dink is well secured on deck and things feel about right to me for us to head out.
In a normal year, Brenda and I would probably be heading to Antigua to enjoy all of the fun surrounding the Classic Yacht Regatta, a spectacular assembly of beautiful yachts from all over the world. Following that would be the Antigua Race Week and then Brenda would fly home. In late April crew would fly in, and I’d be heading back to CT with Pandora, non-stop, passing about 100 miles to the west of Bermuda, a fairly straight run home.
Most of the islands in the Caribbean have put in place increasingly tight restrictions and they are getting progressively more aggressive every day.
And, a beautiful view of the nearby mountains.
The fact is that things are really heating up in the US, with a reported 40% increase in virus cases in just one day. And, yesterday the State Department said something like “Come home now or plan to stay where you are for the indefinite future!” Not very helpful for anyone who’s on a “slow boat to, well, somewhere…”
There was no way that I was going to be able to install the new fridge to the left of the watermaker so the watermaker was moved to the other side of the workshop. This is how it was prior to the move.
Thanks to Brenda for suggesting that I move the unit there. It’s not completely installed yet but is getting close. A working watermaker will be critical if we can’t go ashore for the next few weeks at least.
The installation of the new fridge unit only took a few hours under the able guidance of our refrigeration tech, Prudent. Now I know why he came so highly recommended by other cruisers.
Although, I’ll admit that seeing an “open flame” as he soldered the pipes did give me pause for thought.
Here we are, with the new fridge purring away and using much less electricity than the last one. It’s a very nice piece of equipment, even if it did take three months to get to u. However, now it’s all done and was worth the wait.
What’s next? It seems that after two weeks of back and forth we have decided to head for the American Virgin Islands where we will likely hook up with other cruisers heading to the US on what will likely be billed as a “flotilla” of cruisers with the support of the Salty Dawg Sailing Association, a group that I serve on the board of and act as port officer for our fall rally to Antigua.
Our little flower and herb garden.
And yes, we think we have enough toilet paper. At least we think we do. No, better check…
And, all of this brings me back to the question of where is the best place to be during a Zombie Apocalypse or, in this case, an outbreak of Coronavirus. So, with that in mind, I decided to do a bit of research and here is what I found.
Here’s Pandora all snug and tied up.
Just about everywhere we go we are approached by locals who offer to do work on our boat. Here I hired a guy, one of many that approached me, to clean Pandora from top to bottom. A key part of this was to polish the stainless, which had gotten a bit dingy and spotty over the last few months.
And speaking of the paint job. My new paint took a turn for the worse when a young couple ran into me with a small Hobie catamaran from the nearby Sandals resort out in the bay, where we anchored the first night when we arrived in St Lucia. It was quite windy and they lost control of the boat as they raced along near Pandora. In spite of my fending them off twice, they finally rammed me and put some nasty scrapes on the aft port quarter that will have to be repaired when I get home. Those who need service parts may consider visiting sites like
Once we arrived where he wanted to anchor, we both backed down to set his anchor. Cruisers helping cruisers and boat repair for yet another in exotic places.
Setting aside the inevitable damage, 0ne of the fun parts of cruising is seeing friends along the way, some new and some from prior years. This season we have been buddy-boating with a number of couples and in particular, Bill and Maureen on Kalunamoo, who we first met on our initial trip down the Intra Coastal Waterway our first year out in 2012.
It’s pretty amazing that everywhere we go there is someone we know. This is a photo of the group that we were with for several weeks. We had the gang over for drinks on our last night kin Martinique before everyone headed their own way.
And when we aren’t hanging out with friends, it’s, you guessed it, boat repair in exotic places as I have also been tackling a number of other smaller projects. I’m chipping away at the list and still have a few more to go. However, we have plenty of time as we expect to stay here in the marina for the rest of the week and their is a great ship’s store in the marina.
Each day had a different theme and some participating in the parade showed up with a different costume on each time. This guy was one of the most elaborate and was clearly enjoying himself, mugging it up for the crowd.
This was him the day before. And yes, he knew then that he was fabulous then as well.
Not to be outdone, this was also quite the get-up.
And, from the back, making his best impression on the day of the devil. Oh, you devil, you!
A high point for many participating in the parade was to coat themselves from head to tow with cane syrup, mixed with ashes, a slimy gooey mixture. You could smell them coming. I can only imagine how nasty they must have felt in the heat and humidity.
Earlier in the afternoon, near the beach coating each other from buckets and liberal use of paintbrushes. If it were me, I’d have hightailed it to the beach to wash off after only a few minutes.
The parades, and each day had it’s own theme, was louder and louder with huge crowds lining the route. The procession of revelers went on and on for hours with some groups coming by time and time again. I doubt that this car has much use outside of Carnival.
This rolling “boom box” was just one of many vehicles piled high with speakers, all louder than the last.
And where there is noise, responsible parents do their best to protect the little ones.
“Mommy? Is that man hurt? No honey, he’s just channeling the devil.”
Amazingly, in spite of the throngs, there is very little police presence and unlike the good old USofA where there would be ambulances and firetrucks along with heavily armed troops everywhere, here it was just thousands of people having fun with a minimum of mayhem.
There was also an endless “parade” of spectators dressed for the occasion. I asked if I could take a photo of them. They where thrilled and agreed provided that I took a photo of them with their camera as well. For my money he was a more convincing as a woman than she was as a guy. Perhaps it was her glasses that gave it away. Or was it the vinyl bikini top? Hard to say. Funny how both women and guys want to dress up as a woman and yet, not generally the other way around. “Honey can I wear your jeans? You know, the ones that you wear half falling down below your waist?” Not likely.
“OMG dad, did you see that?”
Again and again the “cane sugar crowd” would pass by. You could always smell them coming. “Hugs, anyone? Hugs? “
And speaking of hot and sticky, I wonder how it feels to be inside this.
Or this.
Real wigs? Only their hairdressers know for sure.
“Does this dress make me look fat Charles?” Only when you aren’t smiling so just shut up and have another beer.”
Do you think they talked that morning before they got dressed? What to wear? What indeed!
Love the hat.
Here kitty, kitty, and a matching purse. Perfect.
Some political statements about pesticide use.
“Yes Mom, I’ll be home soon, I promise. Just out picking up a few groceries.”
This woman would move along a few meters with others in her group and then stop to strike a pose. Something about clay.
Daddy, can I march in the parade next year?
I just love face painting. There were a lot of elaborate costumes, day after day. It’s amazing what you can do with a bit of chiffon and devil horns.
Colors from every part of the rainbow.
And pink, red and pink.
And, of course, what’s better than a guy in drag with horns.
What is a parade without stilts. I’ll bet that the view from up there was terrific.
Loved her headdress.
However, nobody had quite the “stage presence” as this woman. Let’s call her the “Budwiser girl of Martinique”. That’s a LOT, LOT of bottle caps and pull tops.
These guys were into the moment and came by multiple times. If it’s worth parading once, it’s worth doing it again. Besides, wasn’t it once said that “these boots were made for walking…”
I liked this little guy the best. However, I doubt that he will wear this costume when he’s a teenager. Perhaps then he will be in drag just like the rest of his friends and probably his dad. Bumble bee or not, I’ll bet he’s a bit of a devil himself.
Yes, he was having a blast, just like everyone else at this most amazing party.