What will cruising in the Caribbean be like this winter?
This is the question on everyone’s mind these days. Well, at least those who cruise the Caribbean in the winter season.
“What will cruising look like and if I go, will I be able to get home in the spring?”
As port officer for the Salty Dawg Rally to Antigua, I am focused on what the arrival in Antigua will look like and perhaps more importantly, what will the rest of the season bring for cruisers wishing to visit other islands in the Leeward and Windward island chains. Here’s the fleet last fall in English Harbor. Hope to see this scene again soon.
But, it’s complicated. Last week the government of Antigua renewed a state of emergency which is to remain in place through the end of October. For practical purposes, this allows them to put curfews on place and add additional restrictions as needed.
That’s probably the right thing to do as nobody really knows what will happen over the winter with tourists coming and going from the islands, perhaps bringing infections to islands with very limited resources for dealing with patients who fall to the virus. Having said that, Antigua has been quite effective in controlling outbreaks and aside from an occasional “imported” case arriving by airline. I understand that there have been no community outbreaks for some time now. They have been particularly effective in keeping infections under control as anyone who test positive is put into mandatory quarantine in government controlled and monitored hotels, a sort of modern day leper colony. That’s a good incentive to follow guidelines and stay safe.
That approach has been quite effective but would never work here in the US with our preoccupation with personal choice. Quite simply, they have to be aggressive as they just don’t have the medical infrastructure to deal with a major outbreak.
And speaking of outbreaks, it’s scary to imagine what things will be like here in the US this fall when temperatures begin to drop. Sheltering at home for even a few months last winter was an eternity and now we are facing months of restrictions in the northern states as outdoor activities are sharply restricted bu the cold. Heck, it’s been bad enough in the south this summer where it’s warm. Get a grip on our mask, you’re going to need it.
One of the issues that caused so much concern to cruisers, including us, last winter when the islands closed down so abruptly, was what to do with boats when skippers were unable to get crew to help run their boats home. Many made a beeline for Grenada at the first sign of trouble only to find that island closed and flights canceled and Trinidad, long the go-to place for summer storage, is still closed with no clear plan as to when boats will be able to head there.
The Salty Dawg Sailing Association is working hard to figure out exactly how to manage things for this November’s rally to Antigua, when so much is still unclear.
What will the season bring and will we face the same problems that cruisers encountered last spring when suddenly when most islands closed and crew could not get to the islands to help bring boats home?
One issue that we all faced last spring was really not knowing about places to keep our boats for the summer season that were “safe” and how to purchase insurance coverage to ensure our boats when they were left in the “zone” during the height of the season.
I was on the phone last week with several of my contacts in Antigua, including the Antigua Slipway, a small working yard in English Harbor. The Slipway is working on a plan to address the issue of safe storage and insurance for those that opt not to make the run home to the US and need a safe place to leave their boat for the summer.
One thing that the Slipway has going for them is that they are located inside English Harbor, a natural “hurricane hole” with relatively high hills all around, a sort of protected bowl, perhaps the most protected harbor in the Caribbean. The relative safety of English Harbor is one reason that the English Royal Navy used the harbor year round and I guess had pretty good luck keeping their ships safe there.
I will say, from personal observation, the yard, as small as it is, looks pretty safe when compared to other yards in Antigua and the other islands, that are more exposed to the winds.
Events have always been a key part of the rally and one of the key issues that we will have to work around is the need to keep a proper “social distance” from one another and to find a way to celebrate our arrival without violating the 25 person gathering rule. That may prove to be a bit of a challenge as so much of the experience is making friends and spending time together. At least these events will be outside which seems to be a LOT safer than congregating indoors. I long for the days of fun arrival events like our arrival dinner. This shot, from last fall, looks responsible to me.
How about a “responsible” tot of rum? We’d have to stand a bit farther apart nowadays.
Or, a dingy drift that’s safe? I’ll want to be upwind from the group.
A group shot? Perhaps a smaller group, spaced out. Not sure how to do that, actually.
So, there you have it. Plenty to think about and with a few more months left before many will make a final decision on where they want to be this winter.
Oh yeah, with all of this in mind, the Salty Dawg Sailing Association is organizing a series of twice weekly webinars focused on next season and getting you and your boat ready to make the run south. For better or worse, your’s truly is deep into planning this series which will shortly be posted on their site at www.saltydawgsailing.org
To kick off the series of twice weekly events I will be sharing what we know about the coming season along with fun places to visit in the Leeward and Windward chains at 16:00 EST on August 27th, two weeks from today.
I’d better get cracking or I won’t be ready to talk about what to expect cruising the Caribbean this coming season.
All I know is that if given the choice of this…
I’ll take this any day. Or at least during happy hour…
Of course, all of this will be just so much easier once there is a vaccine.
No wait, there already is one. Just call Vladimir.
Sorry, the line is busy. Donald is on the line with him.



When we were tied up in the marina, AC blasting, the whole system abruptly shut down when one jelly was sucked into my strainer and filled it with goo. I’d expect that was one unhappy jelly. Of course, that’s if jellies can be happy or sad. I cleaned out the goo and and was able to restart both units.
In spite of the empty marina, I had heard anecdotally, that boating is booming right now, with boats selling fast and the used boat market showing signs of significant growth after years of stagnation. All of this does make sense given that being aboard a boat is naturally a pastime that offers good “social distancing”.
The Chesapeake Bay Museum, a large facility, is vacant too, with only two boats tied up at their docks.
There is a tiny inlet behind the museum where Brenda and I have anchored in the past. Vacant, save a single visiting boat.
Craig and I toured the museum, it too largely empty, and saw a lovely exhibit of Rosenfeld prints. This view of a crowded ladies day gathering at Larchmont Yacht Club in 1911 seems so quaint given all the restrictions about group gatherings these days.
We walked along Main Street and it wasn’t very hard to get a shot of the stores without the view of a single car passing by.
It’s hard to imagine that we were here during high season with the place to ourselves. Sure, there were others on the grounds but we were never anywhere with more than two or three visitors, all wearing masks when they got close.
The collection of working boats at the museum seem well cared for and it’s a fairly large collection including several ketch or sloop rigged oyster boats. This push boat was all muscle and little boat. The engine used to push the “mother ship” around when the winds are light.
This “buy boat” that would have gone from boat to boat to buy their catch and take it to market, has charming lines.
You can tell from the low freeboard on this boat that the waters she fished were well sheltered.
This working boat was designed to run crab lines, long and narrow as it could be counted on to track easily on straight runs as they ran down long raising crab lines with baits along the bottom that were left in place or “soaked” for an hour or two. After a while the boat would head back down the string, pulling each bait up toward the surface so that the fisherman could use a dip net to catch the crab before it reached the surface of the water and dropped off.
The museum is building a replica of the
Her replacement has a long way to go, in frame now.
As we headed out from St Michaels today, it was nearly dead calm and in our wake, a charming view of the city.
We passed a fleet of young sailors out for classes on the water, part of a summer sailing program. They were adorable, sailing in formation in their little prams.
Cruising in the age of pandemic, whether in the Caribbean or here in the US is very different than what we have grown up with but hopefully we will soon be looking back on this as a distant memory and looking forward to many more years of carefree time on the water.
Day after day, marchers impossibly crushed together.
Pre-pandemic, this is what we thought of when we heard the word “mask”.
Brenda made me a Covid mask from some package ribbon, an old handkerchief and a piece of “bilge oil absorbent material”, all we had on hand.
Within days we went from party time aboard Pandora with our cruising friends.
To socially distanced sundowners on the dock made even safer by the constant easterly breeze.
And then, after curfews were put in place, weeks of time alone, just the two of us aboard, with our only exercise, laps around Pandora.
Our time aboard went from “living the dream” to “being in prison, with the possibility of drowning”. It wasn’t great but we made the best of it, read a lot of books and consumed gigs and gigs of data on our phones, trying to keep in touch with friends and family. Oh yeah, and an alarming amount of wine. However, we did remain true to keeping our evening “tot” no earlier than 17:00.
Zoom, something that we had never heard of before Covid-19, became our lifeline to the world.
Now were’re home. back in the US, just Brenda and me, mostly alone again, after our “homeward bound” ocean voyage, a trip together that we never imagined. Just the two of us 1,500 miles at sea, all the way to Florida. For many cruisers, that’s just a short jaunt but to Brenda, a veteran of no more than a 350 mile passage, it was a very big deal.
West Palm Beach, where we stopped on our way north to Ft Pierce, offered another shocker. When we headed ashore we were stunned by size of the crowds packed into street-side bars. Sure, everyone was outside, but they were packed tightly, shoulder to shoulder, somehow feeling like the danger of infection was long gone. How wrong they were now that the rate of infections has spiked to record levels.
I cannot think of any place I’d rather be, while snow and Covid-19 are swirling around up north, than enjoying a sundowner on Shirley Heights, overlooking English and Falmouth Harbors, watching the sun set.
So, what does the future bring for us cruisers this coming season?
When we were in the Caribbean, and trying to find a way to get Pandora, and ourselves, back to the US, I spent a lot of time thinking about where to go, where to base Pandora for the summer and what would happen next.
These boats are incredibly efficient at catching thousands of tons of menhaden. They use spotter planes to find the schools of fish and huge nets drawn together so that they can literally vacuum the fish aboard. It is a wonder that there are any menhaden left in the Chesapeake given the sophistication of these boats in sucking up stock, day after day, year after year and this fishery is just one of many contributors to the poor water quality of the bay.
It is good that the Virginia is keeping an eye on things and while there is a long way to go, the bay is in better shape than it was in the recent past.
We tied up at the Hampton YC yesterday for one night, in part, because we had to address the misaligned roller foil and fix the rip in the jib. Trying to do that at anchor, with the boat swinging to the wind, would have been quite challenging.
All, sort of, better now. This should make our sail maker happy.
So, here we are, motoring along in flat calm conditions, making our way north.
Pandora will be at a small marina off of Whitehall bay. Remarkably, the cost per month is only about 2/3 of the cost of a mooring in CT. It will be a sort of “coming home” as we kept our “old Pandora” in the same marina, the one with the two head stays in the middle of the photo, way back in 2010. I hope you are impressed that I was able to find this photo of that spot.
It’s been a long time since I’ve kept a boat in the Chesapeake and what I remember most is that it is HOT!
Of course, in the time of a pandemic, they blasted along while keeping an appropriate social distance. I would LOVE, LOVE a chance to get a ride on one of these. What a rush that would be…
They say that form should follow function and this dredge is a perfect example of that. No way to imagine the ship being used for anything but dredging up silt and sand. I spoke to the captain who said that they just “wanted to make the world a better place”.
So, about the bow of the ship. If form follows function, I have no idea what the what the function of this form is.
So, here we are, still motoring along, making our way north, the last leg of our trip, for the moment, hopefully for a more than a few moments.