Our Longest Passage Yet

Equipped with the necessary paperwork and a fairly good weather forecast for the next five days, we leave the bay of Portobelo on the afternoon of February 15 for the Cayman Islands.

The freezer is filled with pre-cooked meals for each evening to avoid a lot of food-prep, snacks like crackers and fruit are in a readily available bag, podcasts, books and movies are downloaded, the jacklines are attached and the water tank is filled. For those of you who don’t sail, jacklines are straps that run along the deck of a ship from bow to stern to which we attach our safety harness so that we cannot fall overboard if we have to go up on deck, especially in stormy weather.

We didn’t go to Jamaica because we probably would have had to sail close to the wind all the time, which would have been very uncomfortable with the predicted waves. And why would you want to make things difficult for yourself on purpose?

So we decide to go straight to Grand Cayman. Despite the better wind angle, the first two and a half days are really bad. With winds between 20 and 34 knots and waves up to 4 meters, it is nasty. For the first time I take Stugeron, a medicine against seasickness. It works quite fast, so I can take over my watch shifts to some extent.

On this crossing, Hans gave me plenty of time to rest the first two days because I wasn’t feeling so well. By the third day, we were back to our normal rhythm. We were both awake most of the time during the day, ate our meals together, and each of us took a short nap at some point during the day before starting our watch schedule in the evening.

After two and a half days, the waves have eased a bit, the wind is blowing more from the east, and we are no longer sailing so close to the wind, sometimes even on a fairly comfortable beam reach at a speed of 5 to 7.5 knots. We have a waning three-quarter moon and the nights are quite bright. Before the moon rises we can still enjoy the fantastic starry sky.

As with the coast of Venezuela, there have been piracy incidents in recent years off the coasts of Nicaragua and Honduras, albeit infrequently. The advice for navigating these waters is to keep a safe distance from shore. Our closest point to the coast was approximately 150 nautical miles. When we see lights at 18:00 and 21:00 on Tuesday, but no vessels on AIS, we can’t help but feel a little uneasy. We keep a close eye on our radar to see if the boat is getting closer and breathe a sigh of relief when it is not. Most likely they are fishermen who often turn off their AIS transmitters to keep their position secret from competitors. But it does drive home the fact of just how vulnerable you are out there.

Wednesday morning the wind drops to 10-14 knots and we shake out the reefs. The conditions are so good that I promptly make banana pancakes for breakfast, banana muffins for our afternoon coffee, and banana milkshakes for in between. As expected, all of our Portobelo bananas are ripe at the same time, and I’m trying to use them as quickly as possible.

It takes until the last day for a pod of dolphins to finally join us for a while, including a mother with her calf. We never get tired of watching them play around the bow of our boat. Always a highlight.

On Thursday, February 20, after exactly 600 nautical miles, we arrive in Georgetown, Grand Cayman Island. Immigration was a breeze. We called the Port Authority when we were about 10 miles out. They told us to call back when we were about two miles off the coast. They then advised us to approach the harbor and wait for Harbor Safety to come and escort us to one of their buoys. They gave us a bunch of forms to fill out, picked us up a little later and took us to the immigration office. The process there was very efficient and, best of all, free.

We learned that there are free mooring buoys all around the island. Most of them are diving buoys, but we were informed that we could use them to spend the night if we wanted to. Since there are about 360 buoys around the island, any dive boat could just grab the buoy next to ours. Anchoring is discouraged and limited to sandy areas so as not to destroy the coral reefs.

After a short nap, we take a quick first swim in the absolutely beautiful water that shimmers in all shades of blue and turquoise. There is a reef right below our boat. Even though it is a bit deep, the clear water makes it possible to see an abundance of fish. We’re looking forward to exploring more of Grand Cayman’s underwater world over the next three weeks.


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