The last week or so has been a blur with the tragic news of the murder of two members of the Salty Dawg Sailing Association, Kathy and Ralph of SV Simplicity.

Before they hijacked Simplicity, three young men escaped from jail in Grenada where they were being held for other serious crimes. It seems that their escape was a relatively simple effort, reported as them just opening a door with a faulty lock scrambling over a roof and jumping to the ground. In their desire to escape the island, they boarded Simplicity, anchored near shore at a popular spot in Grenada. About 13 hours later the couple had vanished, the boat abandoned, and anchored in a very exposed area off of the shore of St Vincent.

The three made repeated trips to shore, offloading most anything of value all, of which was recovered after their arrest soon after making landfall.

St Vincent is an island with few harbors that offer protection and with a reputation for lawlessness, causing most cruisers avoid the island entirely. For this reason, the discovery of Simplicity on these shores was particularly surprising.

A good Samaritan, a professional captain on a catamaran owned by someone from the US, who happened to be paddle boarding in the area thought that the boat, with shredded genoa and anchored in an exposed spot seemed out of place and took a look inside.

What he saw was evidence of extreme violence, and fortunately, he was able to find contact information for Salty Dawg and sent an email to our office. His note was forwarded to me and I called his WhatsApp number. He described the state of that boat and and agreed to go back aboard, take some photos and call the St Vincent Coast Guard. That exchange began what has become a quickly unfolding description of violence and murder.

Kathy, Ralph and their crew, aboard Simplicity, had participated in our 2023 fall rally to Antigua from Hampton VA, and as with all participating boats, provided an emergency contact. And it was at this number that I left a cryptic message. Some hours later I received a call back and shared the tragic news. To tell one of their sons of the death of his parents was a moment that I will not soon forget. As hard as it was for me to deliver the news, I can only imagine what their children felt. I would expect that they will struggle forever to attempt to process the details of the brutal killing of their parents.

The good Samaritan sent me this drone shot of him on his paddleboard with Simplicity in the distance. The peacefulness of the image belies the reality of the story behind it.

As peaceful as it appeared, the setting was anything but that, with Simplicity anchored and abandoned in a place that most cruisers would not go, in an exposed area, and with a tattered genoa.

After I spoke with the good Samaritan, he contacted the St Vincent Coast Guard and from there things quickly escalated to a point that news organizations from around the world were clamoring for information. I have never been involved in anything that has captured the attention of so many and it was breathtaking to see how fast news travels.

As I worked through reaching out to family, speaking with contacts at the US Embassy in Barbados, the only US consulate in the Caribbean, along with members of the coast Guard and police in St Vincent, I learned the brutal details, and was struck by just how difficult it was to satisfy reporters trying to cover the story as well as respect the wishes of a grieving family.

The story unfolded at breakneck speed, and the sons of Kathy and Ralph asked Salty Dawg to send out a number of news releases so suddenly Salty Dawg became a “source” and I quickly learned just how awkward that position would prove to be.

Early on I spoke with People magazine and was ultimately impressed with how balanced the reporting was in spite of their reputation of being a bit sensational. The result of that discussion can be seen at this link.

I also spoke with Fox news and once I was on zoom with the reporter I realized that I was way out of my depth. The interview was incredibly uncomfortable but fortunately, the portions of that interview that they aired were reasonable. While we all see interviews daily, it’s hard to conceive how complex speaking with the press is, with their own goals of capturing “eyeballs” and increasing their ratings.

Perhaps one of the most balanced pieces that I saw was published a few days ago in the Times of London, a paper that I have subscribed to for a number of years. I thought that the reporter was thorough and thoughtful about this terrible tragedy. Unfortunately, I don’t think that you can read that piece unless you are a subscriber. Try the link anyway.

So, here we are in the aftermath of an unspeakable tragedy, the “news cycle” has run itself out and reporters have moved on, chasing the next “nightmare” only to quickly abandon that and focus on whatever comes next.

The cruising community that Brenda and are a part of is very close knit and it will be a long time until the implications of this tragedy fades from our collective memory. For the family, I doubt that they will ever be able to get the images of the unspeakable violence that befell Kathy and Ralph and blatant disrespect for human life that ended their lives, out of their heads.

As tragic as this event has been, the outpouring of support from all corners of the cruising community has been heartening and we can take solace in the fact that the senseless violence that took the lives of two of our own was a random, if tragic, act in an area that is generally safe, the Eastern Caribbean, where so many of us spend months each season enjoying the beautiful beaches, clear waters and varied cultures.

For so many, making our way to the Caribbean is the culmination of a lifelong dream.  And for Kathy and Ralph, that dream was cut short.  Our community of cruisers, who live a lifestyle little understood by the general public, has been thrust into the public consciousness with this senseless tragedy with reporting my most major news outlets.   

Whatever each of us might be feeling, the family of Kathy and Ralph are facing a gaping void in their lives.

As tragic as this is, perhaps the one bright part, small as it may be, has been the outpouring of love and support from those who knew Kathy and Ralph and whether you knew them or not, these words from Nick, son of Kathy, and Bryan, son of Ralph, will surely illustrate the close-knit nature of our community. 

“We would like to say a few words about Kathy and Ralph that we wish all to know. We live in a world that at times can be cruel, but it is also a world of profound beauty, wonder, adventure, love, compassion, caring, and faith. Our parents encompassed all those values and so much more. If we have learned anything from this tragic event, it is that we know they left this world in a better place than it was before they were born. Ralph and Kathy lived a life that most of us can only dream of, sailing the eastern coast of the United States, living on their home Simplicity, making friends with everyone they encountered, singing, dancing, and laughing with friends and family – that’s who Ralph and Kathy were and that’s how they will be remembered in our hearts.”

Over the years I have been struck by how our community supports one another, always eager to help, whether it is to tow someone with engine problems into an anchorage, bring a needed package from the states or to share tools and expertise.

Cruising carries risk, and it is up to each of us to stay diligent and do what we can to stay safe.   At the same time, we need to remember that this event, as heinous as it was, is extremely unusual and that there is risk in whatever you choose to do in life.  What we’ve all chosen to do, sailing to faraway places, visiting tropical islands, is something that most only dream about.  For all of us to be a part of the cruising community is a gift to be cherished.

Sadly, for Kathy and Ralph, that dream was cut short as a result of unimaginable violence, but their memory lives on through those whom they touched in so many ways. 

One of the things that most sailors long for is a photo of their boat under sail. However, unless you are willing to launch a dink with someone carrying a camera that is willing to sit there while you sail back and forth, you have to be satisfied with a photo from on board of the bow crashing through the waves.

However, once in a while someone that you know happens to be nearby and snaps a shot of your boat blasting along with a “bone in her teeth”.

So, imagine what might be the most unlikely shot and I doubt that you would ever imagine a photo of a whale AND your boat in the same frame. Well, I suppose that nowadays that’s possible with AI but the photo below is real and taken by a fellow cruiser the other day as we moved along the lee of Dominica.

It is hard to imagine what it would be like to snorkel with an animal like this. And now that I think about it, I doubt that it is a good idea for boats to approach the whales at all. However, it does bring important recognition to these amazing creatures and hard currency to an island that badly needs it. Interestingly, the harbor that they leave from is Portsmouth, the very same harbor that we visit when we go to the island.

This video shows some remarkable footage of such an encounter. Seeing them from afar was amazing, but up close, I can only imagine.

When 60 minutes decides to do a segment on something, it’s a big deal. A very interesting piece on what is called the “Dominica Sperm Whale Project.”

Brenda and I were in awe being even close to such a remarkable animal, what is probably the largest animal ever to roam the earth.  

And we were there…

And we have a photo to prove it!  Thanks to our friends Francis and Laura aboard WNBAB (Why not buy another boat).  Ok, why not?

It’s valentines day here in Les Saintes, where Brenda and I have been on a mooring for more than a week. We have had all sorts of variety in the weather since arriving, from near calm and sunny to windy, rainy and more than a bit of swell to keep things “interesting”. However, in honor of this special day, it’s sunny and calm with a light wind.

While we are often apart on the anniversary of our very first date, October 28th, 1972, not to put too a fine point on it, as I am generally running Pandora somewhere, we have never been apart, as best as we can remember anyway, on Valentine’s day, as long as we have been together. Not to torture dates too much, while this is our 51st V day, we are into our 52nd year together. Who’d have guessed?

We also learned that our high school class will be having a 50th anniversary reunion in October. I think we will go. Besides, we believe that we are the only couple from our class that is still together.

Fortunately, on this V Day, after what seems like a particularly rolly season so far, the weather is nearly perfect. The humidity is reasonable, the harbor calm and the sun is out. Tonight we head out to dinner together to toast the beginning of our second half century together. Holly S#*% that makes me feel old…

Brenda likes to remind her friends who are jealous of our time in the tropics, away from the snowy Northeast, that we are “not floating around with umbrella drinks”. Well not all the time, I’ll admit but perhaps tonight’s dinner date will be sort of an “umbrella moment”. We did enjoy lounging floating around in the water behind Pandora last evening before heading out for sundowners with friends.

And, speaking of those sundowners, we enjoyed our time ashore with Muna and Fred at one of our favorite spots overlooking the water. The view was pretty amazing. And no, this photo was not touched up in any way. It just looked like that. And tonight, dinner for two in the same place.

It is amazing how different the sunset can look. This was yesterday’s from aboard Pandora. Different but beautiful.

While not a sunset, this photo, taken the same day by Melody in Central Park of our grand-dog Mila is a bit different. It’s hard to imagine a place where a snow covering is quite as beautiful as The Park.

Brenda has been working hard on her tapestry most days and yesterday was all set up for her twice monthly weaving class. She is doing this as a volunteer with a number of her students from prior classes. Between Starlink, Zoom and two cameras, one for her and the other to show her work, it’s seems to be going well.

To overhear her as the more than two hour class progressed, there seems to be a good amount of “girl talk” too, whatever that means. For sure, they are enjoying their time together.

Note that her phone is on a flexible holder which allows her to share a feed of what she is weaving. It took a few hours of practice for us to figure out how to toggle, sort of smoothly, between the phone and laptop cameras as she shares techniques. Alas, we did finally figure it out and, the result, being able to teach from aboard Pandora is quite amazing, actually.

While Brenda was teaching, I headed out for a walk up to Fort Napoleon, high up on a hill overlooking the harbor. This photo from Pandora doesn’t do justice to the height of the walk. There is a huge French flag on the peak, at the fort. It’s hard to see.

A few hearty folks walk up the road but most take golf carts or scooters for the climb. The view of the harbor is pretty amazing.

And a close up of Pandora on her mooring. As great as a smart phone is for taking photos, nothing matches an SLR.

Sadly, the museum in the fort was closed so I had to satisfy myself with a walk on the perimeter. I can only imagine how tough it was to build this place when the only heavy equipment was the stones…

As the French characters taunted the English in the Monty Python movie, “Quest for the Holy Grail”, “your mother smells like elderberries.” After a day lugging stones to build this place, I expect that the French smelled a whole lot worse.

So, I will be clearing out today at the customs office/laundry, Tomorrow we head south to Saint Pierre in Martinique, one of favorite places, when it’s not rolly. We hope to stay a few days and then head down to Fort de France, to enjoy the post-carnival city, after the craziness is over, mostly.

With some luck the anchorage will be settled. For sure, the view will be spectacular. It always is.

Perhaps I can pick some flowers for Brenda too. Sadly, here not to much to pick.

Happy Valentine’s Day. Definitely an “umbrella in a drink sort of day.”

We are here in Les Saintes where we headed to prepare for challenging weather and while it is a bit choppy, the conditions are so much nicer than we had experienced in Dominica where we rolled terribly for days.

Having said that, between winds that were out of the north, followed by southerly winds, both strong, followed by no wind, the weather has been a bit crazy this season. However, after a week of rolly conditions in Dominca we decided that we’d backtrack to Les Saintes with the hope of calmer conditions.

We were not disapointed.

Shortly after our arrival, we enjoyed a lovely dinner out with friends at a wonderful French restaurant. What an idyllic spot with the water gently lapping up on the beach.

I really do not understand the fascination with posting photos of meals. However, of wine? What’s not to like?

For several days Chris Parker had been warning boats that an unusual weather event was in the forecast. A front moving through the area with winds expected to come out of the west. A forecast like that was an unusual occurrence in an area where winds are generally very predictable and almost always out of the east. Perhaps a bit north or south of east, but from the east. His advice was that boats should prepare to find shelter from what were likely to be strong west winds. This sort of issue is common in the Bahamas where cold fronts come crashing down from the north, often more than once a week. These fronts bring strong winds that clock from east to south, through the west and back to the east, all within a 24 hour period.

During the four seasons that Brenda and I spent in the Bahamas we tired of the weekly need to run for cover in an area with precious few options for safety. This is one of the reasons we decided to spend our winters in the Caribbean.

The issue in the Bahamas, as well as the Caribbean, is that many popular anchorages are not protected from the west and what is normally a secure place to anchor can become a dangerous lee shore, pummeled by big waves bringing a risk that you will be pushed onto the beach and pounded in the surf.

Chris is always careful to provide a “worse case” scenario in his forecasts so that his clients can be fairly confident that conditions will not be worse than he is forecasting. Better to overstate it as opposed to having clients later remarking “Chris, it was a lot worse than you said it would be!”. It is certainly better for his business for them to say “Thank goodness that you warned us. It wasn’t all that bad and we were prepared.”

Because of his abundant caution, some feel that Chris overplays risk and feel that he can be an alarmist. As a result, they don’t always take his warnings seriously and the other night was a good example.

The problem was that the GRIBS seemed to show that while winds would be clocking from the south through the west, but it would be very rapid, giving the impression that seas would not have an opportunity to build much as the wind shifted. Chris did not see things the same way and urged caution.

His forecast was that overnight there would be west component winds as strong as 25kts with gusts to 40 in squalls. And, along with that there was a risk of 10′ waves driven by those strong squalls, something that the GRIBS really did not capture. He strong recommendation was to find shelter from west winds and that anyone with exposure to the west could find themselves on a nasty lee shore.

Oddly, in spite of that forecast a lot of our boats did not move into an area offering good protection and found themselves in difficult conditions, fighting to stay off of a lee shore.

Fortunately, none of the Salty Dawg boats were lost but in a number of harbors boats broke loose and ended up on the beach or rocks. Here are a few photos of boats that met their fates as posted by Salty Dawg members.

In Dominica, we had faced some really nasty swells the prior week, and even when there was no wind, conditions were very rough. This boat is about the same size as Pandora was driven up on the beach. I have no idea how they are going to find someone to pull her off as there aren’t a lot of commercial boats in the area.

When a boat ends up on the rocks, there are often holes in the hull and the boat fills with water and sand stirred up by the surf. Not good for this boat in St Pierre. This area is one where we have anchored many times. It’s an open roadstead and even under perfect conditions, it can be rolly.

You can imagine, even if the hull isn’t breached, the force of the waves breaking over the boat can down-flood into the interior quickly. The power of water an not be overestimated. More than once we have pulled our dink up on a beach only to have her swamped by a single wave filling her quickly with water and a load of sand. Imagine the mess after hours of crashing waves. It doesn’t take long until the boat is trashed beyond repair.

There really can’t be much hope in removing a boat intact under those conditions, especially in a location where sophisticated salvage services are not available.

Here is a shot of Deshaies that I took recently, when things were settled. A lovely spot. It’s worth noting that the town dock is designed in a way that allows them to pull off the entire deck so that the waves can break over and through it and not do any damage as all that is exposed is a metal framework.

It doesn’t take long for things to go from bad to worse as witnessed by this short video from a fellow Salty Dawg of the waterfront in Deshaies taken the “morning after”.

I had written about the work that Mark and I did on a dock in Dominica last week. We were pretty proud of our work.

The same dock less than a week later. It must be depressing to work hard to keep things in shape only to have them trashed a short time later.

There is no doubt that many cruisers were surprised by how quickly things went south and fortunately nobody in our fleet lost their boat. There was some damage including overturned dinks and I am sure other issues given how bad conditions quickly became.

The following morning I called Chris back to get his thoughts on why conditions had deteriorated so much and so quickly. His answer was that this had been the worse cold front that he had seen in this part of the Caribbean in 20 years.

After more than a few seasons here in the Caribbean the weather seems to be weirder than ever and it makes me wonder. What about easterlies? Southerlies, Northerlies, wind from the west? What gives?

You do have to ask yourself if this is weather or climate? Strong winds from the north, south and west, all in a week. All I can say is that it’s wierd…

Well, at least there are croissants, and baguettes, and cheese, wine… Well, you get the idea.

They often say that if you don’t like the weather, wait a few hours. In the case of the Caribbean, one thing you can sadly count on is that most of the anchorages can not be counted on to be calm. Sure, there are places that are predictably calm, but they are not the norm. More often than not, it’s uncertain as to whether you will be sitting pretty or perhaps holding on to your wine, hoping for the best.

After a week of really strong winds in Deshaies, we were pleased to head to Dominica for the Salty Dawg Rendezvous, a harbor, more of a roadstead, that is generally pretty calm.

However, not this time and while it was very calm when we arrived, within a few days there was a long swell coming into the harbor, something that we have not seen there very often. And, to complicate things, there was almost no wind so we rocked back and forth in a very unpleasant way, hour after hour. Our friend Bill on Kalunamoo has a “roll-scale” that rates the severity of rolling at anchor on a scale of 1-7 with 1 being the most benign and 7, well not so great. At the worse, we definitely had a 7, making it difficult to sleep or move around the cabin. And, with no wind, uncommon for the Caribbean, it was hot and sticky too.

And for our week long visit there was nearly always a swell, tossing Pandora back and forth uncomfortably and on a few days, right up there with the worse we have ever encountered. Dishes were crashing back and forth in cabinets and anything that was not tied down and well secured, was tossed to the floor. It was exhausting and as you can imagine, Brenda was not amused.

On Monday, following the big final dinner in Dominica, we headed, no escaped, to Les Saintes, about 25 miles north, and one of our favorite places.

As a rule, this place can be rolly as well because it is somewhat exposed to the north so any sort of northerly swell, wraps right around into the harbor. When we were experiencing the very strong winds in Guadeloupe, this place was apparently totally untenable, with swells coming into the anchorage that were terrible.

When we headed up here yesterday we really didn’t know what to expect and to our happy surprise, we were able to get a mooring close in and it is as calm as we have ever seen it. What a relief.

It is a really beautiful bit of France in the Caribbean.

Les Saintes are a small archipelago of islands just south of Guadeloupe. Just to put this in context, here’s a chart that shows the islands from Antigua, upper right, do Dominica, to the south. Pandora is the red mark.

For a closer look… Again, Pandora is where the red mark is. That is the primary island and while there are a few cars, most of the island transport is via golf cart and scooter. The streets are buzzing, literally, with every form of small transport. Every day hundreds of tourists stream in via ferry to the island.

The island is very French and there is a good variety of food in the shops and a bakery that sells all matter of baked goods. Nothing like a warm baguette or croissant in the morning.

We have been here many times over the years, but this earlier post gives a good feel for what the French islands have to offer and Les Saintes in particular.

This shot is of a local fishing boat coming back. There was a good crowd working to put the nets out to dry.

I didn’t see any evidence of the catch as I expect it had been hauled away by the time I was on the scene. However, that didn’t stop the locals from hanging out with the hope of snagging castoffs.

As we sat in Dominica and were tossed aside in the swell, we were anxious to get underway to Le Saintes with the hope of finding a more settled spot to spend a few days before heading south again, this time to Martinique, one of our favorite islands.

After a week in Deshaies, with crazy winds, down to Dominica for a nice visit that began with calm conditions but ended up crazy rolly and now back here in Les Saintes, with some of the calmest conditions we’ve seen here, ever, we are reminded once again that things change. But for now, it’s beautiful and we are enjoying the peace and quiet.

It seems that more than a few Salty Dawg boats had the same idea of escaping to Les Saintes and the swell of Dominica. Now, with a number of Dawgs in the harbor, I thought it would be fun to organize a cocktail visit at one of the local eateries on shore for tonight.

Brenda has a zoom fiber event but will be done around 6:00 so that’s when we will head ashore.

Yes, I’m glad to be back in France again. I’ll take another baguette, croissant, some wine and… Well, the lists just goes on and on. But first cocktails with the Dawgs

But, best of all, it’s great to be in the calm again. Well, at least for now. Fingers crossed…

Heck, being in France makes me want to head to the Med, but that’s another story so stay tuned for more on that score.