Idle Time...

Routing in the last two weeks:
Cabo de San Antonio to Maria La Gorda (red), then
from Maria La Gorda to Ensenada de los Barcos (yellow),
and from the entrance of Nueva Gernoa to Cayo del Navio (in blue)

Cabo de San Antonio to Isla de la Juventud

From Cabo de San Antonio (western tip of Cuba), our next move was to sail to Isla de la Juventud (south side of Cuba). The main town on Isla de la Juventud is called Nueva Gerona, and is described as being charming and having plenty of provisioning opportunities. In the past few weeks we've crossed no towns nor provisioning opportunities so we were excited about the prospect of all of it!

Our best/not ideal/only weather window for the foreseeable future meant leaving right away and beginning the 24 hour passage in a headwind. It's safe to say beating to windward is never fun but the marine conditions were predicted to improve throughout the evening so we decided to go for it since the rough part would only be for a relatively short period of time.

As we rounded the point and turned eastward, the waves were ready to rock! We sailed slightly off the wind, tacking our way toward Isla de la Juventud, but even at that, it was so rough we couldn't do much of anything but hang on. We had secured everything on board before departure but, in big seas, things can get loose. We heard a thud come from the main cabin (a thud other than our hull pounding waves... new thud...new thud not good...) Julian's watermelon had taken flight. And crash landed, leaving juicy fruit brains all over the floor. Though I dreaded entering the cabin, it would only take a few waves to have the place looking like the lid came off the daiquiri blender, so I quickly dove in to take care of the mess. You do what you've gotta do. (A moment of silence for precious fruit lost... Approx. 1/3, however, was saved.)

By 11pm (9 hours into it), the wind still hadn't eased up nor clocked around as it was supposed to, and we'd made very little progress. It was the darkest night in recorded history (unproven) and the wind was blowing dogs off chains! A grey cloud formed above us causing wind bursts that heeled Kianda beyond her rails, making water rush along the deck and flood into the cockpit. I know this happens (that's what cockpit drain holes are for!) but I do not like it - not one bit. I can't believe my stand up paddle board (deflated and folded in its bag) remained tied down on deck despite being submerged every few seconds.

The conditions were exhausting and we still had far to go. We started considering alternatives and luckily there was a good option: Maria La Gorda was 2 hours away with an easy approach that is manageable in the dark. (Arrivals after dark are generally to be avoided.) This would give us a place to rest and wait for better weather. We changed course and comfort level greatly improved. What a relief! On approach, I stood at the bow with our spotlight, shining periodically into the darkness for potential hazards. My light kept catching glistening fish darting around everywhere! In a senseless move, one hit our boat (maybe he should have been scanning for hazards). My light eventually carved out the four mooring balls as we expected to see at Maria La Gorda and we knew that just beyond them was the anchorage. We dropped anchor at 3am, relishing the relative stillness.

That part of the passage was like a physical endurance test but we weren't actually in danger. It was just a bad point of sail. In contrast, we received news from British friends we met at Marina Hemingway who had a real incident, quite possibly on that very same night. They had left Hemingway for an (estimated) 8 day sail to Panama. Yeah - they're in the big leagues. On the 6th night at around 4:30am (because that's when bad things always happen), they smelled burning and could see flames coming up from the floorboards around the engine. The source was discovered to be the wiring loom - an electrical fire. Down below, the smoke was so thick it was hard to see and impossible to breath. The 3rd blast of the fire extinguisher thinned the smoke and the fire was out. They managed to continue sailing but on the following day, the wind died down completely. They eventually jury rigged a connection and regained electrical power, got the engine going and motored in to Panama. We're very thankful they're safe and highly impressed with how they coped facing such a nightmare. Cleaning watermelon off the floor in rough seas no longer seems like something to write home about.

After 4 hours of sweet rest at Maria La Gorda, we awoke at 7am to find the wind had finally clocked around - it was the forecast we had expected the night before. We set sail once again for Isla de la Juventud on a much nicer passage, cruising along with a 2 knot current and under a double rainbow during breakfast. Apology accepted, Ocean. We arrived to our chosen bay (Ensenada de los Barcos) at midnight - another nighttime arrival. I again found myself at the bow, shining our way in with the spotlight, scanning for unlighted markers bobbing in the darkness (which are super eerie) and shining the light on flying fish, for comic relief.

Much better sailing on day 2 - from Maria La Gorda to Isla de la Juventud.

Ensenada de los Barcos (Isla de la Juventud)

During the winter in Cuba, the normal frequency for cold fronts ranges anywhere from two per month to two per week. We're getting the latter. Here's the math: 2 cold fronts per week that can last 3 days or more = deal the cards while I make us another drink.

Unsettled weather confined us to the boat in Ensenada de los Barcos for 8 days. Isla time became Idle time...

We couldn't go to shore in our new anchorage because there's nowhere to land a dinghy. The entire bay is thickly fringed with mangroves, which is what made it a comfortable place to wait out the blow. The only sign of civilization was the flames we could see in the distance at night - farmers setting tobacco fields ablaze to prepare them for harvest is our best guess as to what it was. For a few days we shared the huge bay with a Cuban fishing boat (who unfortunately did not attempt to trade lobster for Havana Club) and then a Dutch flagged sailboat took refuge here as well. (That was the third sailboat we'd seen in a month.) The fishing boat tried leaving a few times but always returned after poking its nose out of the bay, indicating to us that it was still bad out there. The beautiful mountains of Isla de la Juventud were the backdrop and Nueva Gerona tantalizingly close, but we would have to wait.

Idle Time

It's a rare thing, especially at our age and in our busy society, to have idle time. Idle time isn't the same as a vacation, which one wants to 'make the most of' and which always feels too short. I'm talking about simply being stopped, paused, with ample time and no pressure to spend it wisely. Our idle time was a forced situation because if we had our way, we would be onshore exploring or underway toward a destination. We were never bored, however, and the days rolled on by.

Once everything that needed troubleshooting, fixing or cleaning got taken care of, we tended to things that didn't even need troubleshooting, fixing or cleaning. For example, our kettle now shines like a jewel inside and out - took me all morning. This led to meticulously cleaning the stovetop burners and the oven. I did more debatably useful things like reinforcing the seams of our courtesy flags by resewing them - shouldn't fray now! Dave was occupied with our electrical systems and other maintenance projects. We read, swam when feeling tough enough (chilly!), planned our next moves, watched movies. I baked bread, pizza dough, scones - all wonderful. Since the mini bananas were passing expiration date, we blended them up and made cocktails mid-morning (can't let more fruta go to waste!) A friend emailed joking that she would likely have "accidentally lost" her boyfriend overboard by now. Our living space is limited but we're used to that. Sometimes we'll each bend down to do something at the same time and collide heads, but for the most part we don't feel in each other's way. Besides, I can't lose Dave overboard; I need him to play cards. Our only connection to the outside world is our satellite system from which we get our weather forecasts. It's linked to Dave's email so we can also send and receive basic emails. Thank you to our friends who have kindly been googling things that we ask for!

Pizza pizza!

Fishing with the Bahamian Sling but nothing to catch here. 

One afternoon in the anchorage, a gull-like bird landed on our bimini. He was totally unconcerned by our presence. On our 6th day onboard, this visitor was 100% entertaining to us. We watched him walk around, we took pictures with him, we realized we might be going stir crazy... He stayed for a long while, then pooped on the canvas and took off. We still talk about Ernesto - wishing he would return, but he won't because the wind got too strong to even attempt an approach.

Kianda sure could use a fresh water rinse; her metal components especially need it. She's frosted in a salty glaze from weeks of accumulated ocean spray. (I thought "frosted in a salty glaze" sounded more poetic than "she's crusty".) Though the marine weather isn't great, it hasn't rained at all. Since we're not certain when the next opportunity will come to refill our fresh water tank, rinsing the boat isn't a high enough priority for water usage right now.

As I yell: "Don't touch him!"

Ernersto!

Nueva Gerona (Isla de la Juventud)

After 7 days in the anchorage, the wind finally calmed the fudge down and we headed for Nueva Gerona! We planned on requesting permission from Guarda Frontera to stay at the dock for one night, though we knew that was asking a lot (*rolls eyes). The guidebook says that entry isn't always permitted but a transient boat may be allowed to tie up for a short period of time to provision or to escape bad weather. Through word of mouth, we heard that 2 hours is the standard allotment these days and possibly more if you resort to bribery. Offering beer may get you more time at the town dock.

When we reached the buoys marking the entrance, we contacted the Nueva Gerona authorities on the VHF, as per procedures. They responded: "Negativo. Negativo." Permission was denied; simple as that. We tried a second call, re-explaining ourselves: two Canadians on board, requesting a short stop, necessito food and water. It didn't make any difference. (...) So we had to move on to our next deserted island.

I don't know which is worse for keeping us onboard in Cuba: the cold fronts or the Guarda Frontera.

If I let Dave have his way, we'd have run out of cheese long ago. The other day, he gazed at his dinner topped with grated cheddar and with serious emotion said: "This cheese is so special." After my 3rd square of dark chocolate tonight he warned me: "That's your last one... And take it easy on the peanut butter" - jokingly reiterating things he hears from me every day!

We've been confined to the boat without going to shore for 14 days. Weird! But the hiatus is almost over. It's time for a new chapter and the weather looks promising! Our next cruising grounds will be the Archipelago de los Canarreos including the resort island of Cayo Largo. We're ready for a slice of paradise (and a slice of cheese would be nice too, eh Dave!)

From our anchorage: Isla de la Juventud to the East.

The closest we would get to Nueva Gerona.

And from our other anchorage: Isla de la Juventud to the West.