We had a blessedly uneventful 18-hour overnight trip from Jost van Dyke to St. Martin.  Having been here for less than a day, we have a sneaking suspicion that we are going to absolutely love this place.  We got off to a very auspicious start – a delicious light lunch with a bottle of better-than-decent Chablis, followed by a nap, followed by a fantastic dinner at Le Cottage in nearby Grand Case.  This was EASILY the finest meal we have eaten since our departure.  I intend to write it up for the Dining Guide soon. We gave it 6 Anchors, a score we do not award lightly.  If they moved the restaurant to Turks & Caicos, they could charge whatever they wanted and be packed every night.  As it stands, they are doing quite a brisk business.

It is nice to be in a place where the streets are clean; the cars are new, small and functional; the weather is agreeable; the beaches are gorgeous; the bread is fresh; the cheese is unpasteurized; the wine is inexpensive and of generally moderate or better quality; and the people are a seemingly happy mix of the best parts of French, Dutch and Caribbean who really seem to want to be here.  This, mind you, is the French side.  I’m not so sure how we’ll feel about the Dutch side.  I’m told there is quite a difference.

This marina – Marina Fort Louis – is outstanding.  Melissa is already deeply in love with the kid that helped us med-moor the boat today.  His name is Ian.  By the way, he’s 19.

Yeah, we’re going to like it here just fine.

We decided to leave Tortola around 2:30 p.m. yesterday and head for Jost van Dyke, the nearby “out island” that is home to two legendary beach bars – Foxy’s and Soggy Dollar Bar — and very little else.  The thought was that we’d get to JvD around 4:30, anchor the boat, dinghy ashore, check out of BVI customs and immigration, have dinner and a few drinks at Foxy’s, dinghy back out to the boat, and sail overnight to St. Martin.

We actually managed to get off the dock just after 2:30.  It was strange saying good-bye to three different boats we had encountered in multiple locations already, knowing that, this time, we were unlikely to see them again.  I suppose we should get used to that.

Having FINALLY gotten our batteries replaced, we now no longer need to be tied to something hard – we can finally “anchor out” like proper sailors.

Anchoring is surprisingly difficult for many, many sailor – it is probably the one thing that most boat owners are slightly afraid of, and for good reason.  People often times make complete … well … spectacles of themselves as they attempt to park the boat.

I am pleased to report that our maiden anchoring was absolutely flawless.  We planned it out well and executed it perfectly.  This was a strong point for each of us back in sailing school, and, apparently, we remember what we were taught.

Our maiden post-anchoring dinghy ride, however, was not so flawless.  We managed to get the dinghy to Foxy’s dock right at 5:00.  Melissa jumped off and sprinted for customs.  Alas, we had missed them.  So, we’d have to stay overnight – no big deal.  St. Martin can wait one more day.

Foxy’s might be the single most-famous beach bar in the entire Caribbean, if not the world.  We felt like we “needed to do it” but expected to be put off by excess commercialism in the vein of Hard Rock Café.  Boy, were we wrong.

Yes, it has a very large T-shirt shop/boutique, and they do a very brisk business.  But Foxy’s puts out a tremendous product.  The bar is great.  The drinks are creative and tasty.  The staff is fantastic and professional, and the food was surprisingly delicious.  We were a little bit hesitant to pay $28 apiece for a “Beach BBQ,” but this was fantastic food – ribs of near-Twin Anchors quality, the best jerk chicken either of us have ever had, corn that was downright memorable (now that’s saying something).  It was a bargain at twice the price.  Foxy’s certainly doesn’t need me to tell you how great it is.  The word is already out.  But it isn’t popular by accident.

“Several” (ahem) Dread Fox cocktails later, we walked down to the dock to get on the dinghy and head back to the boat.

It was sinking.  Seriously – it was SINKING!  The left pontoon was basically flat and submerged.  We got into the boat, thinking we might just be able to make it back to Spectacle.  Totally wrong.  All we did was make it worse, instantly.

Melissa jumped back on the dock, losing a flip-flop, grabbed the waterproof bag, as we prepared to “save” the outboard.  I jumped into the water … which, thankfully, was only about four feet deep.  I managed to wrestle the outboard off the boat and onto the dock, and we eventually retrieved the boat as well and dragged it onto the beach.  However, it’s pretty clear that we’ve got a fairly meaningful “slow leak” in the dinghy (and not that slow, apparently).  Add that to the list of repairs.

We caught a ride out to the boat, slept pretty well (no paranoid middle-of-the-night dashes on deck to check the anchor), and caught a ride back in the next morning.  After reinflating the dinghy and checking out of customs, we marched (sans dinghy) over the hill to Soggy Dollar Bar.  This was quite a hot, steep and lengthy shlep, but it was worth it.  The bar is not really the allure – it’s just ok.  The beach, however, is fantastic.  We put away a few Painkillers, opted for a cab (pretty tough to find on a tiny island) back to Foxy’s, and managed to get the dinghy towed back out to Spectacle.  Then we put the dinghy on the davits, pulled up the anchor, and headed off for an overnight sail to St. Martin.  More Pictures

We took a day to meet up with the aforementioned Bumfuzzlers, who are just finishing up their trip.  This turned into quite a long day/night/morning of boozing it up.

We started out at Quito’s Gazebo, a relatively famous bar at fairly scenic Cane Garden Bay.  Quito is Quito Rhymer, a local reggae star, who plays live most weekends.  We were there during the day, and it was dead, but I’m sure it’s pretty hopping when he is playing.  We then ventured on to the fairly famous Bomba’s Shack, a beach bar made mostly out of driftwood.  It’s probably great for the Full Moon Party, but it’s otherwise just license plates, underwear, graffiti, business cards, and drunk charter vacationers – bars like this are, sadly, a dime a dozen.  We had a great time with Pat and Ali, but none of these bars is reason enough to re-route one’s boat (or life) toward Tortola.

A different day, we also made it out to the infamous Willy T. at Norman Island.  I totally loved it – my favorite watering hole we’ve yet visited. Melissa doesn’t agree – at all.  As I said before, there are only two things to do in Tortola – sail and drink.

As far as we’re concerned, Tortola really is no better than O.K.  We both doubt that we’ll ever set foot on the island again.  It’s totally skippable unless you’re coming specifically to GO SAILING.  Once you put all the sailing business to the side, it is not somewhere I’d choose to be stuck for longer than an afternoon cruise-ship excursion (not that cruise-ship excursions are in our future, but, boy, there sure are a lot of people taking them in Tortola).  Road Town, the main town, is decidedly not charming.  We were told that Tortola is a sailing “Mecca.”  Indeed it is – we’re just not that kind of Muslim.

People have also been asking us about what we’re reading while we’re out here.  We thought we’d share the list with you, as well as our thoughts.  You’ll notice a new link to the right under Basics called Spectacle Book Club for our reviews.  Feel free to email your rebuttals, agreements, suggestions, and even downright outrage (i.e. Andy’s only moderate enthusiasm for the classic novel One Hundred Years of Solitude) to our Spectacle email address located on the Contact Us page.

I’ve had at least 10 people ask me if I plan on reviewing restaurants during our trip. 

Of course I am. 

You will notice a new link under “Basics” called “The Spectacle Guide to Dining Around the World” which will contain our continually updated restaurant ratings as well as detailed rating criteria. 

Along the way, we’ve begun to meet some fascinating characters, and we’re sure there will be more.  We’ve decided to immortalize the crème de la crème in the Spectacle Hall of Fame.  Induction standards are strict – we’ve met plenty of people who are merely “classic.”  The SHoF requires much more.  As we plan on being out here for approximately 40 months, we have decided to induct a class of five every two months, for a total of 100 upon our return.  You will note, at right, there is a new listing under “Basics” called “Spectacle Hall of Fame.”

We’re pleased to announce our first class – the Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Honus Wagner, Christy Mathewson and Walter Johnson if you will – of the Spectacle Hall of Fame (note that couples count as one entry).

The inductees are Roberto Ventura Rodriguez, the Brenninkmeijers (Felix and Rita), the Schultes (Pat and Ali), the Gillhams (Dan and Selena ), and Joey from Curly Tails.  Congratulations to the first class of the Spectacle Hall of Fame!

To be honest, Tortola has been a somewhat weird stop for us.  I think that yesterday I figured out why this is.

It’s hard to think of a place where sailing is more of an “end” than it is here.  Scads of people fly in here, charter a sailboat, go sailing around the Virgin Islands, return the boat and fly home.  The trip is about the sailing — and the sailing IS indeed great.  Throw in a few rum punches at Foxy’s and Soggy Dollar Bar, and that makes for a pretty nice getaway — I get it.

But, for us, our trip isn’t about the sailing – and it isn’t for a week or two.  Sailing is, for us, a “means” to see the world.  This is a trip around the world that happens to be on a sailboat.

And, speaking of sailing, not much of that is happening for us right now.  You may recall that our original plan was to sail the boat from the Bahamas straight to the Virgin Islands to have some repairs done.  After the Twin Fiascoes and the trip to Puerto Plata, we have even more repairs to add to the list.  Here’s a PARTIAL list:

• Replace entire battery bank (5 new Lifeline 8D AGM batteries).  Four of the 5 current batteries are shot.  No sense in replacing   just four.  Good news … they’re only $675 each (not counting labor).  Ouch!
• A new forward hatch, replacing the old hatch which (inexplicably) had a little solar fan on it, which  ensured that the whole forward cabin would be under 4-5 inches of water if you were sailing upwind.  This is a straight-up design defect – you aren’t doing much upwind sailing with that thing on there.
• A new companionway slide (which I accidentally broke on the way to the D.R.).
• Repairs to the companionway screen (another “oops” moment).
• Reattachment of the autopilot rudder return indicator mount, which spontaneously disintegrated just as we were landing the boat here in Tortola.
• Repairs and steel reinforcement of both salon tables (these were ridiculously flimsy and had obviously been broken multiple times before).
• Freezer repair (this has never really worked very well).
• Fridge repair (ditto).
• Fix both air conditioners (the forward one needed a new pump, the aft one only minor repairs).
• A comprehensive rust removal/polishing of all the stainless steel on the boat.
• Sanding and oiling of the toe-rail (we’re removing the varnish and returning the teak to a natural finish).
• Yet another diagnosis/repair of the generator (we  have some sort of oil pressure problem).
• Repairs and batten replacement on the mainsail  (thanks to my stupid Christmas Day furling maneuver).
• About a dozen more “do it yourself” jobs, including sourcing and installing a new, proper-sized fuel-filter head to swap for our emergency, over-sized replacement from the D.R.

Obviously, this is going to be shockingly expensive (probably five figures).  But almost all of it simply HAS to be done.

Given the extent of the repairs, we have workmen coming to and from the boat basically every day.  This means that, by and large, we are stranded in the marina.  Even today (Sunday), we have a guy here working on the boat.  Aside from boat repairs, there are basically two things to do here: sail and drink.  We can’t really sail.  Fortunately, we’ve made some good friends here.  More on that in the next post.

We arrived in Tortola yesterday (on time!) after a low-drama, almost uneventful passage.

As gloriously uneventful as this passage was, there was one thing that was decided out of the ordinary.

At around 4:00 yesterday morning we both had to be awake to begin navigating our approach to Tortola through the various out islands in the way.  The sun came up around 6:45 and created some beautiful views, of which we have extensive pictures.  We bisected Hans Lollick Island and Great Tobago Cay and entered the relatively shallow (150 feet or so) and protected “bay” (is that what you’d call it?) to the east of St. Thomas, the north of St. John, the west of Tortola and the southwest of Jost van Dyke.

At around 7:30 a.m., I was looking down at the chartplotter, doing some navigation work.  Melissa was standing up on the port bench, looking out over the dodger.

All of the sudden, she said, “Whale …… Whale!”

“Whale?” I said, not really looking up.  OK, dolphin, maybe…

“WHALE!!!” she nearly shreiked.

I jumped up.  I had missed it.  She pointed.  “There it was, and it’s going that way.”

We followed the path.  About 45 seconds later, the whale surfaced again.  It was a full-grown humpback whale.  It had to be 40-50 feet long.  It didn’t breach, but it spouted air and we had a fantastic view of its back and fluke (which was totally out of the water).  Pretty amazing stuff really.

We will be making lots of repairs here in Tortola, so it’s hard to know how much time we’ll have to really go see the area.

I have never seen the movie “Free Willy.”  Given that it was made for kids, I always assumed that the villain’s planned calamity for Willy was something like being sold to a third-world water park where he wouldn’t receive the same pampering treatment that made him such a loveable scamp at his current performing home.

Only now, after perusing imdb.com, do I realize that in fact the villain intended to KILL Willy and collect the insurance money.  Wow … that’s pretty dark for a Disney kids movie.

Had Disney gone with my plot line, Willy would have been sold to Ocean World.  It’s basically Sea World without Shamu – various creepy dolphin exhibits, some sea lions, a fake beach – you get the drift.  Ocean World also gets pretty low points for creativity in branding.  Did you think of that name all by yourself?  Do you serve the “Big Mick”, just like McDowell’s?

Somewhere along the way, Ocean World got the idea to open a marina.  This wasn’t a completely crazy idea, as this particular part of the world (the northern coast of Dominican Republic) has no marinas in the neighborhood.  We previously had been unaware of Ocean World (as it had just opened in December 2006 and was not in any of the books we had), but we decided to check it out once our tribulations at the Old Dock reached the point of multiple shipping boats cutting our anchor rode.

After the 30-minute trip over, we approached and three golf carts with about nine staff members zoomed up to greet us.  I thought, “What service!” as Melissa threw them dock lines.  They stood there holding them, dumbfounded.

“You want to tie up the boat?” I queried somewhat sarcastically.

Apparently, no.  They stood there holding the lines until we got off the boat and did it ourselves.

That sort of sums it up.  This is a very new, very expensive and very crappy marina – the Ishtar of marinas.  They have spent millions on it, and they are going to lose their ass.  They’ve only been open for three months and, already, they have a wide-spread (and well-earned) reputation for having a ridiculous surge even on the far inside of the breakwater – that’s a death knell for a marina.  Indeed, nearly all our docklines are all ruined by chafe.  And, oh yeah – it’s 50% more expensive than any other marina we’ve visited.

As the pictures make clear, this is a ridiculous place.  There is no end to the tacky aquatic décor — fish couches (the picture of Melissa is on one of about ten different such designs), preposterous over-decoration, weird frescoes, a bar shaped like an octopus, etc., etc., etc.

The main building is pretty calamitous.  On the ground floor, there are two awful restaurants, which were totally empty unless a caravan of pre-paid, packaged tour guests happened to roll in for some cheap buffet food (the smell of abusively overcooked lobster permeates the entire marina).  On the second floor, there is a small and decidedly mediocre casino (although it had the loosest Texas Hold ‘Em game I’ve ever seen – it was like taking free money, which paid for much our stay).  The third floor is home to “Bravissimo!” – their “Vegas-style” show.  Never ones to pass up a chance to view unintentional comedy, we bought our tickets.  Wow.  It shatters the Unintentional Comedy Scale.

Next to the main building is some sort of ersatz “fort.”  This may have gone up because they stumbled upon a discount sale on cannons.  Apparently all marinas need a fort to defend them (see, e.g., Marina Fort Louis).  Needless to say, that French fort has actually been in battle and doesn’t have an empty “supermarket” on the ground floor or golf carts parked in front of it.

However, Ocean World did have an air-conditioned room with high-speed internet, a nearby, off-premises mini-market that sold cheap, cold, large Presidentes, and a few helpful staffers (especially Jolise).  We also got to see a sea lion do the meringue – it’s not every day you get that chance. What a ridiculous place.  More Pictures