18 April 2011
Left Boqueron, Puerto Rico, about 1:00 pm. Last night, the boat next to Andy Messing's boat sank. A weird start for a sailing trip, but sadder still is the story of the sunken boat's owner, who sailed into the Boqueron harbor 22 years ago and has not left. Like his boat, the end will come, as he slips below the surface of life. Calm weather and flat seas as we motored out the bay and past the Los Morillos lighthouse, then headed East for the run to St. Croix. We anchored for the night in the lee of Gilligan's Island, then Andy cooked Prime Rib. We met a cruising couple anchored nearby, named Dave and Colleen, sailing on a 35-foot boat to Grenada.
19 April 2011
Slow start this morning, but a great breakfast. Pulled the anchor at 9:00 am and motored over clear, glassy seas with a visible bottom 36-feet down. Swung south of Caye de Muertos and then angled in to the Salinas harbor. The anchorage was crowded, so we anchored along the channel and ate steaks with salad and baked potatoes. The DVD player decided not to work, so it was an early evening. So far, this cruise has been quite easy.
20 April 2011
Left Salinas and motored to Roosevelt Roads Marina. Met Tim and Angie, friends of Andy's, who charter their boat, S/V Spirit, at http://www.cruisingspirit.com Also met Commander Dan, the Navy employee in charge of the closed base. Roosevelt Roads was an important base to the US Navy during the last century, especially with the nearby island of Vieques as a training range for naval gunnery and naval air support. Local political agitation caused the Navy to leave the facility a few years ago. Now the entire facility is a cesspool of corrupt political machinations as Puerto Rican politicians attempt to claim the harbor, airfield, base housing, and other facilities as prizes. The stories of government waste and local greed were entertaining, but sobering when one thinks of the power of the US Navy defeated by a few welfare-class malcontents. Who is running our country these days?
21 April 2011
Rented a car and drove to Fajardo, a cookie-cutter piece of modern America, with Walmart, Pep Boys, Subway, McDonald's, Burger King, Walgreen's, etc., etc., etc....... Andy reserved a boat slip at the Sun Bay Marina in Fajardo, for when he returns in June. Sun Bay Marina is an exceptional facility that stands out like a rose among thorns, mostly because the manager, named Olga, actually manages. Spent the night on Andy's boat listening to tall tales told by the Chief of Security at Roosevelt Roads. Seeking to fill some personal void, he pushed the limits describing his "Special Forces" exploits in Vietnam. My guess is that he was much better at cleaning his rifle than actually using it. After all his hot air, at the end of the night, he was just another drunk stumbling off a boat, and another corrupted spirit as he drove home drunk, in flagrant violation of his position as chief cop on the base.
22 April 2011
Left Roosevelt Roads about 10:00 am and motored five hours to the eastern end of Vieques. Our secluded anchorage was violated by the intrusion of a garishly-painted small, misshapen sailboat festooned with a skull and crossbones and other odd flags. The two white men on board had rastafarian dreadlocks, but spoke French, one with a woman's voice, and the boat's registration numbers were replaced by the word Liberte. Not sure how they got to this point in life, but surely daddy's trust fund enabled their self-styled facade of freedom.
23 April 2011
Made it to Green Cay Marina in St. Croix, USVI, by midafternoon. Andy's boat, S/V Ark Angel, was placed in a slip next to S/V Patriot, a beautiful Hylas sailboat owned by Cecil Bailey and Jan Zeller, long-time friends of Andy's. It was a relief to be safely tied up and know that, for now, the trip was over.
24 April 2011
Ate brunch at the nearby Deep End Bar and then went for a 3-mile walk to Christiansted, USVI. Andy, Cecil, and Jan found me in their rental car and we took a sightseeing trip to the west end of St. Croix. St. Croix used to export agricultural products. Now, the farmland lies idle and processed food is imported from the US. The native Virgin Islanders seem to be doing much better on welfare than they ever did working. Fancy cars and fast motorcycles are common. Not sure how so many people without jobs can afford $15,000 motorcycles, but they have a great gig. Probably a good thing the US taxpayer is so generous and can afford to pay their bills, the young men wear so much gold jewelry that working around any machinery or tools would be a safety hazard. I did see some houses that looked unfit for habitation, but the occupants did not seem to mind. They can always escape to the new car parked in the yard. Maybe the US taxpayer should clean their houses for them too, so they can be "just like us."
25 April 2011
Morning at the Deep End Bar and laps in the pool. Brunch on the waterfront in downtown Christiansted. The waitress was a self-proclaimed "highly-trained professional", whose blowhard fantasy provided an entertaining contrast to the sad reality of her untrained service. A Pina Colada at the secluded Carambola Resort on the north shore was the highlight of the afternoon. Then we ate a potluck supper with a group of nurses that Jan works with.
26 April 2011
Another morning of pool laps and coffee, then walked the marina looking for unique boats. Figured I had put it off long enough, so went back to the boat and made flight reservations to return to Puerto Rico, then packed. Andy made us a spaghetti dinner and we ate with Cecil and Jan.
27 April 2011
Cecil drove me to the airport. Driving across St. Croix and seeing the way the local natives live was troublesome. Most are on public assistance, but did you know that they can buy lottery tickets with their food assistance money? Seems unfair to me that people struggling to pay their taxes should be subsidizing some welfare-class person's gambling. With the drug and alcohol, and other lifestyle problems, rampant in the USVI, it seems that dialing back on the public assistance would provide an incentive to experience the therapeutic value of work. The flight to San Juan, Puerto Rico, was bumpy. Catching the Linea Sultana van to ride across Puerto Rico was problematic and it was 9:00 pm before I finally crawled into a local taxi for the last leg of the trip home.
