Yesterday we got the news that after weeks of being confined to our boats that it was now permissible to go for a walk on shore between 07:00 and 12:00 every day.  What a relief, after weeks of confinement aboard Pandora.

While there are still considerable restrictions in place on the island, being able to go ashore, even for a short walk, without feeling like a convict, was great.  Brenda dressed up in her best Covid-19 protective gear and out we went.   And, you can rest assured that under that elegant silk scarf is a proper mask given to her by another cruiser.

As Billy Chrystal, of Saturday Night Live fame, once said, “doesn’t she look marvelous darling?”.  And, with a lovely hibiscus in her hat. So, off we went for a morning walk, our first in, well, I can’t remember the last time.  We headed towards Nelson’s Dockyard.

Almost nobody on the road.  Deserted.  The entrance to Nelson’s Dockyard is normally bustling with yachties and tourists.  Not today. Almost nobody around.  I wondered if we’d be turned away, actually.  To see all the businesses we normally frequent closed was creepy. Sure, it’s mid April and the season would normally be winding down, with many yachts heading out for the season, but it’s a lot more vacant than normal.   The docks are normally packed with yachts of every size, getting ready for the last big event of the season.  In a normal year, the island would be gearing up for race week, when hundreds of competitive sailors and ocean yachts would be descending on the island. Even the mega-yacht dock , generally full of 100’+  yachts, nearly empty. There are still a good number of huge yachts in the harbor but, one by one, they are heading out, headed to the Mediterranean or Newport for the summer season.  I do wonder if there will even be a summer season this year.  Like us, I expect that many owners are wondering where their yachts should actually go.

Newport, for one, has quarantine restrictions in place that are pretty restrictive and it’s still too early in the season to head that far north.  Just last week, there was quite a nasty storm with gale force winds kicking up, south of Bermuda that would have been quite dangerous for even big yachts to be out in.

Virus or not, nature continues to amaze with beautiful flowers everywhere.  An egret hunting for fish in the shallows. A lone ray nosing around for a meal. And, a school of enormous tarpons looking for a handout where fisherman normally clean their catch. Don’t be fooled, these fish are each nearly 5′ long.   Much larger than they look in the photo. One particular yacht worth noting, that’s still in the Dockyard, is Adventuress, a lovely 1924 Scotland built, Fife that was beautifully restored in Maine in 2009.  She is a work of art and in spectacular condition, in spite of her 90 years.  This photo doesn’t do her justice.  Under sail, spectacular in every way. Follow this link to an article about her with more great photos.   She’s a remarkable yacht with a caring owner that is willing to do whatever it takes to keep her in top shape.  I wonder where she will be heading this summer?

While a very different type of yacht,  I have also admired Skat for a number of years now.  Launched in 2009, the 240′ long Skat is owned by Microsoft alum, Hungarian born, Charles Simonyi.

The owner lead the team at Microsoft that developed Office, the program that  runs on nearly every computer in the world.  When Microsoft went public, he became an instant billionaire.  These days, in spite of being an active philanthropist, giving away millions, he is still worth some $3,3b.   I understand that he is aboard Skat for half of the year.

Skat, in Danish is the word for “treasure” and a term of endearment like “honey”.  His danish wife, who he married in 2008, is 32 years his junior.   Interestingly, he dated Martha Stewart for 15 years.  He broke up with her and shortly after that was married in 2008.   Skat has a decidedly military look about her.   As Charles was dating Martha Stewart when she was in prison, I wonder if this photo of Martha’s cell was inspiration for the color scheme for Skat? Who knows.  Anyway, when Skat was launched in 2009 she her design was way ahead of her time, with a much more angular look.  Nowadays, many of the design details of Skat are fairly common in modern yacht design.

The other day there were two fully rigged catamarans on her stern ready for an evening sail.  Off and on, I have also seen a portable table saw set up on the stern.  I suppose for one of the crew to do a project.  It’s hard to imagine what they might be cutting with a crude carpenter’s saw to fit aboard a yacht of this level of fit and finish. Note the number 9906 on the starboard quarter.  It’s the build number assigned to the boat when she was in build at the Lurrsen Yard.  At launch, she cost in excess of $75,000,000.   Check out this link for some background and thought behind the development of Skat.

And when he’s not aboard, Simonyi lives in a very unique home in Washington state, not surprisingly referred to by some as “windows”.   It is also grey along with having some similar design elements to Skat.  Check more about this very unique home at this link. As you’d imagine, he also has a private jet and yes, it’s grey too.  And you can’t land a jet on a yacht so Skat also sports a helicopter, grey of course. A yacht, amazing home, personal jet and even his own chopper.   What else can an energetic billionaire do to keep busy?

How about a trip into space and a visit to the International Space Station?  Yes, he’s done that and even holds the record for being the only civilian to do so twice, in 2007 and again in 2009. Anyway, I think that his yacht is pretty neat.  Skat has been docked here in Falmouth every year that we’ve visited.   Two years ago, after we had already left for the season,  I heard from a fellow cruiser that the crew of Skat hosted a dock party and invited all the cruisers in the harbor to join in the fun.  I’ll bet after a winter hanging around the harbor that Skat’s crew was also ready for a good time as well. 

So while we are still in Falmouth, if slightly less hemmed in, it’s looking like some of the most restrictive rules put into place are beginning to loosen here and hopefully in the USVIs as well, where we will be heading in the next two weeks, as we begin our trip back to the US and home.

As anxious as she is about the trip home, Brenda seems to be beginning to make peace with what she will have to do to get herself there.   The good news is that the weather reports that was have been hearing about the first flotilla that left the USVIs last Sunday, have been quite reasonable, with nice easy broad reach sailing, all the way to Florida.

Just as with the fall Rally, you can follow the boats in the Homeward Bound Flotilla, this time on a really interesting page provided by Predict Wind, for all participants.

With a total of over 160 boats participating in weekly departures through mid May, there will be plenty to follow.  Brenda and I are tentatively planning to join the Sunday, May 3rd departure that will take us to Florida, weather permitting.

The group that left last Sunday is nearing the US and the next group, totaling about 20 boats, is scheduled to leave on Sunday, weather dependent, of course.

We don’t know exactly when we will head out to make the 200 mile run to the USVIs but it will probably be in about a week.  Right now we are waiting for a shipment of prescriptions to ship out either to here in Antigua or to the USVIs.

Of all the “details” that are challenging when living aboard, I have to say that keeping stocked with current prescriptions is the most daunting.  Here in Antigua, we have to hire an import broker just to receive the order, and with the closures related to the virus, it took about two weeks even to find someone to accept the shipment.

Like it is for everyone these days, life is way more complicated but it’s encouraging that perhaps the worse may be over.  At least we can go for walks now.

Yes, today things seem to be a bit brighter here in Antigua.  Let’s hope it’s the sign we’ve been waiting for.

Fingers crossed.

 

 

 

It’s hard to believe that it was a short five weeks ago when we arrived in St Lucia to arrange for our new refrigeration to be installed aboard Pandora.  When we arrived first tied up in the marina the virus was far away, something effecting China.  We had no idea what was coming and how fast EVERYTHING would be different.

So much has changed since then, with the world gone mad and Covid-19 invading nearly every corner of the planet.  One by one all of the Caribbean islands closed their borders, with new and more restrictions coming in a daily barrage.  A tsunami of bad news effecting cruisers with one island after another cutting themselves off from the world, trying to protect their people from an invisible invader.

Antigua, where we have been for the last two weeks, was the last island to close down and now the American Virgin Islands is the only place in the Caribbean that  a cruiser can make landfall legally.

Flights to and from Antigua have been cut off for some time now and last night I heard that there would be “one last flight” off of the island for US Nationals.  And at $550 per seat, you would only find your way to Puerto Rico. From there you’d have to catch yet another flight to get yourself to the US.

Who would have guessed, last November, when I headed south from Hampton VA with the Salty Dawg Rally, that the world would be in the grips of a once in a 100 year pandemic.  And that we would be stuck here in Antigua, unsure about when and how we would be taking Pandora home.  And, on top of all that, there is NO WAY that I would have imagined Brenda facing a 1,000+ mile ocean voyage to get back home.

In spite of being one of the most powerful nations on earth, the US seems to have met her match, at least from the standpoint of national leadership, in trying to come to grips with this threat.  The latest installment by Trump is to cut off funding from the World Health Organization, blaming them for bungling the handling of the pandemic.  What better time to lash out at the one group tasked with being the world wide disease watchdog in the middle of a once in a century pandemic?   Holy crap, you just can’t make this stuff up.

Being outside of the US for so much time during the last few years has sensitized me to how the US is perceived by other nations and lately that perception has not been good at all.  Recently I subscribed to the Times of London to get a different perspective on all this.   It has been sobering to read what’s being said about our leadership and most recently about Trump’s move against the WHO in particular.  The current view by our closest ally is not in the least bit flattering and that makes me sad.

Anyway, so much has changed and here we sit, confined aboard Pandora with only very limited rights to head ashore now and again for groceries.

Fortunately, we are at least allowed to swim around the boat as I am told that in Grenada, even that is no longer allowed.

The week long quarantine here has been extended to a second week and it seems that most everyone has gotten used to the “new normal”.   Unfortunately, there are outliers, in particular, a few cruisers that are really chafing at the restrictions and somehow find a way to have “essential reasons” to head ashore each and every morning, to go to the grocery or whatever for several hours. 

A grocery run does adhere to the law but a daily run is not what is intended and certainly not in keeping with the spirit of what is being asked of us.  Somehow  some cruisers seem to have that we are guests in this country.  From our perspective, we are being treated very well here and want to do whatever we can do to honor that.  The mere fact that Brenda and I were allowed to clear into Antigua, the last available island for hundreds of miles north or south, says a lot about how the government views our presence.

Other islands have not been so welcoming and Brenda and I will not soon forget how it felt to be shadowed by a huge French warship as we made passage along the coast of Guadalupe, on our way here.

Of course, there are always a few that find it hard to understand what’s being asked of them and I really hope that the broader cruising community, the vast majority who are following the rules, aren’t painted with the same brush.

The Antigua Coast Guard continues to patrol the harbors and anchorages daily  and if you wish to head to another harbor in Antigua you must ask them for permission.  Yesterday morning Brenda and I decided that it was time to pump out our holding tanks, brimming from use since our last trip out of the harbor,  more than a week ago. We called, as required on VHF 16 to ask permission.   It took a while to connect with them but finally we received a reply and we were granted a one hour “permit” to head out, “do our business” and return to anchor.

Later that evening I was participating in a “virtual Tot” on Zoom with the Antigua and Barbuda Royal Navy Tot Club, and some of those on the call said that they had heard our discussion with the Coast Guard and commented that we were likely the only “environmentally oriented cruisers” in the harbor.   Sad but true, as I had noticed that nobody seems to be upping anchor to head out briefly, for any reason.  It’s sad to see that cruisers seem willing to “dirty their own nest”, the water that we all swim in.

And, speaking of the Tot Club, they meet every evening, to carry on a long British Navy Tradition, at 18:00 to “toast” the end of the day and, of course, the Queen.  It’s a terrific group and I am happy to say that I joined a few years ago.  They are very supportive of each other and it’s a nice group to be involved with.   For those who may not recall my description of the club and it’s purpose, I wrote about my effort to join in this post.  

So, every night for the club, and a few nights a week for me, there is an opportunity share fellowship and a Tot on Zoom, as they are no longer able to meet in person.   On any given night, members call in from all over, some 20+ in all. I do hope that they consider meeting an evening or two a week on Zoom over the summer when most of the members have scattered to the US and the UK and  most are not on-island.  It would be a nice way to stay in touch.

Just in case, I have stocked up on the “official” rum of the club, bottled by English Harbor Distillery, here in Antigua.  I am told that the “formula” and it’s very different than what the company sells under their own name, is based on a bootleg version that was made on the island years ago, by some of the same employees of the current business. That bootleg version, at the time, was called “Post Office Rum” for reasons that I am unclear about.  All know that along with the now abolished daily issue of rum in the British navy, the group has resurrected the long gone bootleg formula as their own.  This is indeed a very special rum as it can only be purchased by card carrying members of the club.  I guess that would make it one of the most exclusive rums in the world.  I’m going with that.  One way or the other, it’s pretty good stuff and I’ll be sure to bring a few bottles home to share with some special friends.   Are you my special friend?

I have mentioned that the Salty Dawg Sailing Association, known for running the largest cruising rally from the east coast every fall, decided to organize a “flotilla” to the US to help cruisers, many stranded by the virus, here in the Caribbean,  to help them make their way home to the US.

Most boats making the run, in normal years, take on additional crew so it’s going to be quite a burden, for most that will have to make the run home short handed.    With that in mind, SDSA decided to do a series of special flotillas that would provide cruisers logistical support, tracking and weather forecasts along with help finding crew, where possible, and to do so at no or minimal cost.  And, to make sure that upon their arrival in the US that they would be welcomed home.

While or normal spring rally north attracts around 20 boats, this flotilla has attracted, at last count, nearly 160 boats, a testament to the anxiety that many  cruisers are feeling about getting home.

As an added bonus, and there are many reasons to tag along with The Dawgs for this run, the fleet will be tracked on a map provided by one of our partners, Predict Wind.  They offer, along with monitoring by Chris Parker, our weather router and the US Coast Guard, it will provide friends and family of those participating the opportunity to watch the fleet make their way home.

As the 160 boats making the trip will be leaving with staggered starts over a 5 week period, with recommended Sunday departures each week, there will be lots to watch, wind information along with a graphic display of every individual boat positions, updated several times a day.   The first group, below, left last Sunday, most making the run toward Florida, the easier down-wind run. And you can zoom in and view whichever part of the fleet you wish. Hover your mouse over any given “boat” and see the location, time of last transmission and speed for that particular vessel. I find that friends and family tend to stress a bit when I am on passage and being able to keep an eye on things is very popular.  You can click here to see the present position of each boat on passage.

In case you’ve missed it, Brenda hates overnights and has never done more than a few nights in a row at sea.  As you can imagine, her anxiety is rising with each passing week and day as we get closer to our departure.  We are hoping that crew can make it down from the US so she can make her departure via jet and not aboard Pandora.  Whatever happens, she can be plenty tough when pressed, and I am sure that she will ultimately do fine on the trip.  At the very least she will end up with quite a story to tell.

Sea voyage or not, she is also very anxious about any sort of time on a plane or in an airport.  She views the risk of infection on a jet or visiting an airport as just a bit less dangerous than a week on a cruise ship, and we all know how sketchy that has turned out to be.  Considering all of this we feel that it is increasingly unlikely that crew will be able to arrive so we will just have to see what happens between now and the middle of May when we have to start heading north.

One thing that we have been holding out hope for, is the ability to take Pandora through The Bahamas, a somewhat shorter route, as opposed to having to make a 1,100-1,200 mile non-stop run to Florida from the USVIs.  That longer route would take us south of the Bahamas, passing Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic and Cuba before catching the Gulf Stream north to Florida.

If we are allowed to traverse the Bahamas that would allow us to shorten the distance to the US by hundreds of miles and give us the opportunity to stop, a number of times along the way.  In that case, our longest non-stop run would be about 500 miles, requiring only a few nights in a row at sea.  That’s a lot better than a week or more for the direct southerly run to Florida.

Even better, if also unlikely, would be an opportunity to stop in The Turks and Caicos, which would cut another 100 miles off of the longest distance between stops.   All and all, the ability to traverse the Bahamas would make the trip a lot less daunting to Brenda as well as more enjoyable for me.

And speaking of the Bahamas, I heard today the government of the Bahamas may be considering opening up to yachts transiting but not going ashore.  Unfortunately, the announcement wasn’t completely clear.  As we don’t plan on beginning our run north for a few more weeks, perhaps things there will open up a bit as we get closer.

So, here we sit in Falmouth Antigua waiting for a sign that we should begin heading north.   And speaking of “signs”, today’s sunrise might have been trying to send a signal.   What do you make of this?  To me, it looks like a rat?  Not sure that’s a good thing. Seeing a rat isn’t what we want.  What does this say to you?  I have no idea.Still no answer?  One more…I guess I will just have to continue looking for a sign, a message from someone, anyone, to let us know what’s in store.

For now, here we are in Antigua, waiting for a sign.   Such is the uncertainty of life.

One way or the other, we will make our way home.  How or when?  I have only an inkling.

For sure,  I won’t run out of rum.  Make that Tot Club rum.

 

As we sit here in Antigua on Easter Sunday, Brenda and I feel lucky to be safe, even though we are thousands of miles from home.  It’s been frustrating to be locked down aboard a small boat (sure bigger than some but still small) in a foreign land, with no clear idea of when we will be heading home.

However, all is not lost as the Easter Bunny visited Pandora to help us feel like there is some semblance of normalcy. Oh yeah, if you have little ones under foot as you deal with the frustration of “sheltering” this Easter, at least you could rest easy knowing that the Easter Bunny will indeed have found his (if the Easter Bunny is a guy) way to your home because, at least in New Zealand, the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy are considered “essential services”

Some weeks ago, New Zealand’s prime minister, a woman of course, said, when she laid out restrictions that would be necessary as a result of Covid-19, “You’ll be pleased to know that we consider both the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny to be essential workers,” she explained in a completely serious tone, although taking care to add, “But as you can imagine, at this time, of course, they’re going to be potentially quite busy at home with their family as well and their own bunnies.”

So, there you have it, the Easter Bunny has full travel privileges during the pandemic so I guess that explains why he visited Pandora.   As far as bunnies in the US are concerned, fortunately  it doesn’t matter that Trump hasn’t embraced the Easter Bunny as essential because most restrictions, at least on a federal level, are optional so the Easter Bunny has been able to made his rounds, unchallenged.   Thankfully, he must be concerned about social distancing as he almost never seen as he makes his way from house to house.

So, it’s Easter, and I’ll admit that it feels a lot like most any other day as we sit here in Antigua, waiting for a “sign” that its time to head north.

At the same time, many of our friends wait and hope that Grenada and Trinidad, below the hurricane belt and where they keep their boats during the summer, will open up before the hurricane season gets going in earnest.  A few of them have told us that if they have to take their boats back to the US this spring, that this will be their last season afloat in the Caribbean as they feel like they are too old to make the arduous trip south again.

For me, I am hopeful that we will be able to use Pandora at least a bit this summer, so that makes the trip north worth it to us.  Also, I am fearful that there won’t be a cruising season here in the Caribbean next winter and the idea of leaving Pandora here for two years is a non-starter.

To that point, Prime Minister Brown of Antigua recently announced that some form of restrictions will likely remain in place until a vaccine is available and that seems like a long way off.

The simple fact is that countries like Antigua don’t have the infrastructure to deal with a major outbreak that would quickly overwhelm their health services.  As just one example, a local doctor here in English Harbor,and there aren’t all that many doctors on the island, tested positive for Covid-19 and now they have the daunting task of tracking down all of his patients.

So here we sit and with the hope of not becoming “setee potatoes” (no couches on Pandora).  Brenda and I continue to do laps around Pandora, generally twice a day, in the morning and evening, our only way to get even a modest amount of exercise.  The exercise app on my phone reminded me today that it recorded 85 steps yesterday.   Wow, that’s a full two laps around Pandora’s deck.

As everyone here is confined to their boats and hoping to avoid becoming stir-crazy, I saw this couple out for an evening sail last night, technically a violation of quarantine.  Never the less, it was nice to see as they went drifting by in the light breeze.  While I respect that the Prime Minister would not approve of what they did, an evening sail seems fairly innocuous to me and I was frankly jealous that Brenda and I weren’t able to do it too.

The problem is that human nature being what it is, when you “give them an inch, they take a mile” so the harsh restrictions are needed to keep things from getting out of control.  To that point, the other evening there was a raucous dock party at one of the big marinas involving the crew of several mega-yachts with blaring music heard all over the harbor.  The authorities arrived to break up the party and the next day a reminder was sent out via the Antigua Marine Trades Association reminding everyone about the rules.

When the extent of the Covid-19 threat began to become clear, my friend Bill on Kalunamoo remarked, “what next, a plague and swarms of locust?”.  Bill, you were right.  Check out this headline today on Bloomberg News.  “In nearly 20 states, the Easter Sunday forecast includes snow, tornadoes and hail the size of tennis balls.”   

Yikes!  No locust but just about everything else.   At least I’ll be safe as Brenda made me a face mask out of a handkerchief, a bilge oil diaper and some lovely green ribbon.    Safe or not, let’s hope that things get better soon.  It’s Easter, the daffodils are beginning to bloom at home and that’s where we want to be.

For now, Brenda and I are doing what we can to make the best of it here in Antigua, waiting for a sign that it’s time to head home.

At least the Easter Bunny found us.  And everybody, and I do mean everybody,  knows that’s essential.

It seems like just yesterday when I watched with longing as “Genie” wiggled her nose and like magic, she was there.    I guess I “dreamed of genie” perhaps in more ways than one.   However, we won’t dwell on that right now.

When we started our winters afloat in 2012, staying in touch was very tough and even finding Wifi hot-spots and trying to feel connected with home was an all consuming pastime.

Our “disconnectedness” reached it’s zenith, and not in a good way, when we were in Cuba where the only way to connect was to “rent” time on a government computer in 30 minute installments.  We would purchase what looked like a lottery ticket, scratch off a small area and reveal a code, for time on the computer.  While the time itself wasn’t expensive, tickets could be hard to come by and when they weren’t in stock, there was no way to connect.  As you can imagine, “ticket hording” was common among cruisers.  And, to make matters worse, the service, via a cable from Venezuela, was S-L-O-W, like an old version of AOL dial-up.

Knowing that we had to be prepared to work fast when we finally were able to get on-line.  In order to get a post done in 30 minutes,  we would work up all the text of our blog posts and then frantically upload photos that we reduced to a much smaller size and then flowed in the copy as best we could, plugging a USB stick into the computer.  Getting a post done at all was a huge effort but somehow Brenda and I were able to put up 30 posts over the two months that we were in Cuba.

However, the worse part of the experience was being so out of touch, being denied all but the most rudimentary contact with family for that two months.

Well, here we are, 4 years later and so much has changed.  With Covid-19 raging around the world and so much uncertainty, we are still able to stay in touch with family and friends in a very personal way and we can do so, using our phone as a hot spot.  No, the service is not particularly speedy but compared to past years, SO MUCH BETTER.

Yesterday was our younger son’s birthday and her partner Melody hosted a surprise party for him on Zoom.   Even with very limited bandwidth on my Google Fi phone, we had a blast joining in.   Brenda even baked him a cake, which we each ate a piece of on his behalf.  Sharing experiences was easy but “sharing” a piece of cake still isn’t possible.  Something to look forward to perhaps.  Check back in a few years and we’ll see how it goes.   A cake teleporter perhaps?  “Get on it Chris!  You’re a physicist.  How hard can it be?  As they say, it’s a piece of cake. ”

Teleporter or not, we showed the cake Brenda made, complete with a candle, to him first before cutting and eating a piece ourselves.   The “party group”, some 20 in all, were scattered over a dozen time zones, I think.  Chris, Melody and a number of others in CA, us in the eastern Caribbean and I believe that I heard one participant say that it “was the middle of the night”, where he was.  Europe perhaps?

It was so much fun to be able to sing happy birthday to him.   With the web delay on each window, let’s say that “you had to be there” to even know what song was being sung.  Of course, everyone knows that “it is the thought that counts”.  We “thought” it was great.

The birthday boy. And Mila, their ever attentive husky, seeming to say “can I have a bite?”.  Wondering what that is on her neck?  A party hat?  Or is that a doggie tracheotomy?Along with much of the world, we are struggling to stay sane while confined at home, or in our case, aboard Pandora and in a very small space.  Did I say that Pandora is about the size of a generous bathroom?  “Yes, Bob, more times than we can count!”

In a feeble attempt to stay active within the confines of our now so restricted world, we have been spending time each day swimming around the boat, Brenda wearing her Apple watch, that somehow knows she is swimming, even if she doesn’t tell it.   One lap, two laps… “the wind splashed water in my eyes!  I just hate that!”  Ok, no more laps today.

Everyone is struggling to stay active given the rules that require us to say aboard except for “essential” trips ashore.  Unfortunately, some cruisers in the harbor seem to be finding an “essential need” ashore just about every day.  I hope that doesn’t end up backfiring on us all.

However, most are doing the right thing and are adhering to the “spirit” of what’s being asked of the cruising community.  This morning I saw a guy doing arm exercises on the bow of his boat using some sort of green strap wrapped around the rigging. Yesterday, after nearly a week of very light winds, the trade winds began to fill in again.  This crew deployed their spinnaker to do a bit of “surfing”.  The process involves securing the top of the sail to the mast facing aft with a seat secured to the two lower corners.  When the wind catches the sail just right, up you go. It’s a very tricky maneuver with some risk to both boat and crew.  After one quick jerk out of the water, it suddenly looked  like things might be getting out of control.   A strong gust, would put a lot of strain on their anchor and it would get messy pretty quick if they started to drag.  It seemed to take a long time to reel the flogging sail back into the cockpit.  “Ok, ok, enough fun for one day guys.”So, here we sit, not knowing how long it will be until we are able to head to the US.  It’s still too early to head north anyway with cold fronts making for challenging conditions north of the Bahamas with a constant parade of cold fronts exiting the east coast.

Yesterday I spoke briefly with Chris Parker, our weather router, and his advice to me.  “If you are comfortable in Antigua stay where you are for a month and then consider heading north when the weather is more settled.”  Sounds like good advice.   Besides, our family has said, time and time again, please stay away until things are more under control in the US, with they clearly aren’t.

With so many cruisers in the USVIs right now, all raring to go home, much earlier than they would during a normal year, I asked Chris what he made of that.

His answer, “they are assuming that the grass is greener on the other side”.   I guess that’s human nature but we’re staying here in Antigua for the time being, hoping that things will somehow get better at home.

One can always hope.  In the meantime, we’re enjoying “Zooming” from one “event” to another.  Tonight, happy hour with fellow cruisers, some local and some in the US.  At least it’s a taste of “normal” in a world that’s anything but that.

All I can say that if there was a way to Zoom ourselves home, we’d do it.  Where’s a magic genie when you need one?

Perhaps if I click my heels together.  “There’s no place like home.  There’s no place like home.” 
Nope, still in Antigua, for now.

The orbit of the moon around the earth is elliptical and when it’s closest to the earth and is full, as it was last evening, we call it a super moon.  And when that happens to be the biggest one of the year, well, then it’s a pink moon.

Actually, it’s called pink because when the biggest super moon happens in the spring some guy decided that it should be named after pink phlox that blooms in the spring.   Ok, I guess.

Luckily, that super pink moon rose in excellent fashion last evening over Falmouth Harbor, Antigua, where we are settling into our long quarantine aboard Pandora, now entering the second week.They say that a super moon is closer, and about 15% larger than a normal full moon.  It did seem pretty big and bright to us, peaking through the light haze. It’s amazing how bright the night is when the moon is full in an area that is really, really dark when it’s a new moon.    Unlike most areas in the US, with so much ambient light from cities and towns, here in Antigua, dark is dark.  Except, of course, when there is a huge pink super moon, which there was.

Our oldest granddaughter Tori was born under a supper moon three years ago.  Her grandmother, Brenda, YaYa, dubbbed her “tiny Tori super moon” at birth and it stuck.  Well, it stuck with us and for ever more, super moons will remind us of the no-longer-quite-so-tiny-Tori.

Somehow staying up late when we are aboard Pandora isn’t very easy, “cruisers midnight”, 9:00 is when we call it quits most night.  It seems like it’s a lot later than it is.  Of course, early to bed and all that, means that I wake up pretty early, a bit before sunrise.  Most sunrises here look about the same but they are all beautiful.  This photo doesn’t show it well, but it was quite pink, perhaps in honor of the “pink” moon.  This morning I was able to watch that super pink moon finish it’s trek over the sky and set behind the mountains to the west.  I also spied a pair of dolphins that swam by Pandora at a stately pace. Getting good photos of dolphins is always tricky.   I got several. Some say that some can get a bit crazy when the moon is full.  Perhaps that’s why this fisherman, who came out in his skiff at dawn, was singing as loud as he could for several hours.   Not sure if that helped him catch fish but he sure got the attention of everyone in the harbor.
And speaking of crazy, the news from around the world is just that with Covid-19 continuing to rage just about everywhere.

I wonder if the full pink super moon made the folks in Washington crazy?  Nope, no changes detected…

And speaking of home, the US has the dubious distinction of having the worse virus outbreak of any country, world wide.  And it’s  way worse than China and  that seemed terrible as it was reaching it’s peak.

While Brenda and I wish we were home, we certainly feel like being here is safer given all the bad news coming from the NY area.  With CT and NJ new raging hots-pots, we can only watch, wait and hope that it will be safe to return before hurricane season kicks in here in the Caribbean.

While Brenda and I are signed up to participate in the Salty Dawg Flotilla to the US and hope to head to the USVIs in a few weeks, I am holding out the hope that she will be able to fly home and Steve, my mostly willing crew, will be able to fly down and help me run Pandora north to CT.

If Steve can make it, and that’s a really big IF, it will cut off weeks from my return trip as we’d take the more direct 1,300 mile run straight north as opposed to the run west to Fl and then up the coast, a total of over 2,000 miles.  It’s way longer but a lot easier down-wind run for at least half the way.

For now, I’ll take a super pink moon as a good omen that things will begin getting better soon.

Next, I’ll be reading the clouds.  Anything to find good news…