Coffin Island

I knew the weather conditions were just "wrong". Marie and I had talked about setting "our rules", when to sail, and when not to.  However, here we are breaking our rules again, but we are faced with extenuating circumstances. We had promised our friends a trip over to Coffin Island. A husband, wife, two kids, and a mother-in-law. They have lived in Puerto Rico 10 years, but have never been able to visit this beautiful natural resource. Now, due to a horrible turn of events we will only have one day in which to come through. Our friends have just suffered the loss of a family member, and need to fly back to the States. So here we are, beating into the wind, the current, and the waves. It's only a seven mile trip. You can see Coffin Island in the distance, a hop, skip, and a jump away. Our progress is dog slow, we had 20 knots of wind on our nose, and the waves are brutal. Everyone's face has a green hue. If I get boarded by the Coast Guard they're going to think I'm smuggling Martians. Marie wants me to just quit, turn around, and declare "we tried". I just can't do it, I can't just quit on them unless they agree to it. As sick as they all are, the husband is optimistic. Oh boy, here comes the vomit! Marie was frantic about turning back, I kept insisting, it's up to them. I apologized to the mother-in law as she sat there in the cockpit with her back turned to me, so as to hide the stomach content that now lay all over her hands and lap. I tried not to look, less I be compelled to join her.
The boat was moving at a painful 1 mph, and sometimes 0, when a wave would stop us in our tracks. Seven miles, that's 7 hours at that rate! Sorry about the obvious math. Marie was beyond insisting, and move up to a full blown nag. The day was slipping out from under us, and I started to worry. We needed daylight to approach and anchor at Coffin Island. Our friends little girl had thrown-up, and was doing some weird screaming as she sat in the cockpit. I could tell that our friend was starting to question his determination to reach the island. I knew that once we were close enough, the island itself would block the wind and waves, and things would be easier. The blocking affect was taking longer than I anticipated, however it did finally come. We sped up to 2 and a half mph, and it felt like a blessing. We were a mile away, it was 6 pm, and we were racing the sun. As we got closer we could finally see the mooring balls that were our target. It was a comfort to have our friend on deck, he had the strength to hold on to a mooring ball once we hooked it, something Marie and Hadrian didn't have. We missed the mooring balls twice, but hooked one on the third try. The water was comfortably flat with only little wavelets to break the surface. After catching our breath, I prepared dinner, and made myself a stiff drink. All that anyone could talk about was how rough the trip had been. After dinner, each found a nook to sleep in.
The morning brought with it gorgeous day. Soon after breakfast, everyone was in the crystal blue water, frolicking around the boat. I put out a few inflatable toys on lines tied back to the boat so that everyone could just grab on, and not wander too far off. I gave the Mirador a much needed hull scraping. It was a weekday, and we had the Island to ourselves. I enjoyed seeing our guests experience this wonderful place. We had the kind of day that softens all the memory of any hardships that were endured to get us here. We were having such a nice time that we decided to stay another night.

Coffin Island ferry terminal.

Swim'n in the Caribbean.

Li'l Jacob was a real sport.

A mooring ball in the distance.

We travel with our own jester!

Hadrian hanging on to the mooring line.

I set up a hammock for extra room. 

Now that's a happy crew.

When it's good, it's great!

Li'l Jacob has it made.

The morning brought with it another gorgeous day, flat seas, and the wind on our back! We made our way back to the marina in the lap of luxury. "This is how it is supposed to be." I told our guests. I was relieved that, at least, they were able to see both sides of the coin, a rough day and a calm one. "Now I know what you mean by, not a good day", my friend told me as they all walked away.
Marie parents were coming to visit us. We tried to encourage them to enjoy some time on the boat, but they pointed out that they had more luggage than would fit on-board. They have planned a 2 week stay, and wanted everyone to stay with them. Marie gets so nervous about everything being perfect for her parents that you would think she was auditioning for "American Idol" in front of Simon Cowell himself. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of any of her swelling stress, I just make myself scarce, and blend into background like a chameleon.
The first week we would be staying a 3 bedroom condo at Luquillo Beach, a beautiful area on the northeast coast of Puerto Rico. Ah, life is always good around my in-laws, soft beds, good food, and loving family. The kids are the center of attention, and they are masterful at milking their grandparents. Sometimes I can hardly bare the shame of being their parent.
In the days that followed we visited mountainous El Yunque rain forest, and hiked down a lush trail to a waterfall. The water was surprisingly cold. We also went horseback riding through the countryside. The horses were well cared for, and our guides insisted that we be gentle with them, no yanking the reins or using a twill like a crop. We kayaked to a bio-luminescent bay at night, and visited Old San Juan, all in the first week.

Vanilla dog won't be left behind.

Roland and Mary at El Yunque.

A view towards the ocean from atop El Yunque.

Windmills in the distance.

A lush trail in El Yunque.

A waterfall punctuated the end of the trail.

This is a view inside of one of the forts in Old San Juan.

Here's a view from the fort, towards the city.

My father prayed at this little chapel back in 1963.

Eva and Aunt Sara tried feeding the pigeons.

This is the beach at Rincon, at the northwest of the island.

It's Hadrian's birthday. No, he's not 73, they messed up buying the numbers.

We had a nice horse ride through El Yunque.

The Rough Riders!

Now that's a fish!

This is a restored plantation house.

These are the ruins of an old lighthouse.

Another picture perfect view, it's hard to keep track.

A seafood restaurant, and below...

The seafood!

For the second week we moved over to Rincon on the other side of the island. From there we visited local caves, an old plantation house, a lighthouse, and some great surfing beaches. 

Time to Move On

Well it seems like the prayers worked, and we have made it through hurricane season with only two scares and no scratches. Puerto Rico has been an amazing host. Its beauty and diversity are a natural wonder. If you haven't been out here you are missing out.

Now, it's time to move on. We are so excited about the landscape that lays ahead. We will be in the famous Virgin Islands. Debatably, the best cruising grounds in the world. There are 9 major islands, and hundreds of smaller ones. Every island is a short sail from the next. No more long, strenuous passages, you can always see the next destination from wherever you are, and the waters are deep enough to sail. I can almost hear the steel drums playing in the distance, the beach parties, and festivals, like "Jump Up", rum punch, and calypso sauce! Can you do the Limbo...with a drink in your hand? This is the best season of the year.

I've also noticed that a ferry boat back to Puerto Rico from Vieques or Culebra is only 2 dollars. This makes visiting us very affordable. Just fly into San Juan (super affordable), take a shuttle to the Fajardo ferry terminal, and we'll pick you up at either Vieques, or Culebra. Yeah, this is an invitation! We'll be in the Virgins through the end of February, if not longer.

Here are a few images right off the web;

St. Thomas

The BVI's

Snorkel in crystal clear water!

Romance?? Hey, this is a family establishment!

Everything is better when you're in good company, so give us a shout, and let us know when you'd like to come out. 

Cupcake

One early evening my friend Israel and I were on our way to a captain's licensing course. We decided to stop at Starbucks for a cup of nectar of the gods that they peddle there. We stood in front of the counter as the barrista turned to serve our coffee, and I looked over at the pastry case. The only thing left at the end of the day was a cupcake. Without really thinking about it I said "cupcake" out loud. The barrista turned and looked at us with an incredulous gaze, "Did you just call him Cupcake?" she asked. "What, no I meant the only thing left is a cupcake." "Oh, I thought that you were calling him Cupcake, a pet name or something." she said. We all broke out laughing at the thought. Israel is a big, muscular guy, calling Israel "Cupcake" would be like calling a rottweiler "Fifi". But that was it, from that day forward I would call him Cupcake. It doesn't end there, when his girlfriend heard that I was now calling him Cupcake, she had to find a pet name for me, and so Muffin it was. And so it came to be, we are now Cupcake and Muffin. Yeah, it really gets the neighboring table's attention when they hear it.

Okay, onward to our real story, so I convince Israel to come stay on the boat for a couple of days, and take a break from that pretzel of a life he is leading. It's almost a 3 hour flight, and a 2 hour drive after that. I picked him up at 3:30 pm, and drove to a member's warehouse to stock up for the next 2 days. We bought enough alcohol to drown in, and enough meat to choke a horse. It's true, never shop hungry or thirsty. When we got to the boat we had a bona fied storage problem. I didn't have enough room in the refrigerators for all that food. We had to go out and buy ice to fill some coolers. Yeah, we're gonna have a great time. We made ourselves a couple of drinks, and I showed Israel around the marina grounds the first night.

The next day we drove out to the southwest corner of the island, to a town called Boqueron. This little town has an air of "Key West", lots of bars and restaurants, lots of street vendors, right on the water's edge. The kids went swimming while we went bar-hopping. After we were all tired from our chosen activity, we went looking for food.

The vendors had Oysters, clams, octopus, and conch. Some vendors had pinchos, or kabobs of a variety of meats. I really liked the conch, it was as tender as I have ever had it. The clams were pretty good too, Eva even had some. We stood by the vendor and ran up a big bill. We even took some to go, it was so good. We took the scenic drive home, and had a few more drinks when we got there. In an exercise of excessiveness, I baked 6 Cornish hens, and a crab bisque. We were all experiencing great discomfort from over-eating. Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! Another drink please.

The next day Israel discovered that there would not be room for him on the plane, he was flying standby, so his vacationette got extended by a day. We decided to take him to a waterfall that we had discovered while touring the island with my brother Richie and his wife Betty. This waterfall is not in any of the travel guides, we came upon it by chance. It is not only beautiful to look at, it is great to swim in.

Israel scaling his way down the sides of the waterfall.

This is the first tier of the waterfall.

Marie and the kids at the bottom pool.

Marie and Eva at the foot of the falls.

Hadrian and Eva in the Jacuzzi.

Hadrian in the Jacuzzi.

Hadrian jumping off a cliff.

There are 3 tiers and a pool at the base of each. The lowest pool is also the largest, and Hadrian likes to climb the cliffs around it, and jump from them. The water is cool by Canadian standards and freezing by mine, but the kids love it. We spent the day there, and it was great, but we were hungry again. We had so much food at home that it made no sense to eat out. We had a late picnic at the marina while watching Eva try-out her new paddle board. Just before dusk I saw a sailboat enter the harbor. I could tell that they were cruisers because of the jerry jugs tied to on their deck, a sure sign. I was feeling friendly so I waved them over. Later we all met up at our boat for cocktails. I spread out plenty of hors d'oeuvres, and we shared stories for a few hours.

A picnic at the marina.

Eva Learning to paddle board.

New visitors to the harbor.

A little help from Mom.

It was hard to get up the next morning. While the clock said it was time to get up, my throbbing head said different. It was to be a sluggish morning, we got out of the boat at noon. Israel had a plane to catch, on the other side of the island. We had just enough time to have lunch before he needed to be at the airport. I just had to take him to Raices, a local dive where they serve brontosaurus pork chops. I love watching the expression on people's faces when they're served these huge chops!

The brontosaurus chop!

We waddled out, and made it to the airport right on time. What a great time we had had with Cupcake. This is what life is really all about, sharing joy with family and friends...Okay, who is coming to visit us in paradise next?

If people knew about boats...

The joy of living on a boat! 

I have lived aboard our boat with my wife, and two kids for a fifth of my life. I have built myself homes 3 times, once because a hurricane blew the old one away. Which left me homeless, with new-found sympathy for the 3 little pigs, and eating army hot dogs for 2 weeks. I have also designed several homes for others and even for developers. On more than one occasion someone has taken credit for my design, one could say "the ultimate compliment". My point? I think that I understand the concept of human shelter better than the average person. I find it quite curious that people do not give living on a boat a second thought. It's a lot like trying to sell a Cuban a wooden house, ain't gonna happen. It is simply unacceptable, that's it, end of story. But if only for the sake of argument, you were to put all your prejudice aside and really give a fair look into the pros and cons of calling a boat "Home," let's take a look at the data.

At 41 feet our sailboat is amazingly comfortable. The scale of the living spaces offer comfort and accessibility to the whole crew, tall or small. I have drifted about in a king size bed for many years, it was okay, but it cannot compare to the feeling of my v-berth. It's as if I had been wearing somebody else's clothes, and I didn't even suspect it until I put on clothes that fit. It is the difference between really liking your space, or loving it. It is a space that you feel total authority over, and not need to flee to the comfort of a "panic room" (a room with a scale that you gives you the illusion of safe shelter). I believe that we as humans have to learn to live in over-sized spaces, but it's not natural. Consumerism is there is there to help us every step of the way, and even to barrel through a moment of clarity should one arise. You can't fall in love with a big house.

This is Mirador underway.

Arriving at Atlantis, we had a great location in the marina, and free access to the park.

The Captain.

Mirador at anchor in George Town.

The kids made friendships that will last a lifetime.

While living on a boat I would entertain parties of 8 to 12 people almost every night for years. I believe that I may even have something of a reputation for doing this. To enlighten, I would do this on the dock so there would be no tracking in and out of the boat, that would surely have led to my being poisoned in my sleep by a person who otherwise is quite fond of me. I practiced this, vice or virtue, while I lived in a house, and was, many years later, told by my guests that my x-otherhalf would tell everyone they had to leave each time that I went to the bathroom. Talk about a bad fit.
Storage space on a boat is adequate, but not excessive. You can have a decent wardrobe, tools, and toys. What you cannot do is accumulate junk that you do not use, you have to keep it real. Useless appliances that fill all the excess storage area in a house have no place in a boat. This vice is so prevalent that the majority of people that I know no longer have room in their garages for the car, it's all full of junk. I even know people with 3 car garages that are packed several feet high with stuff. If you were to find yourself in the middle of the garage, and someone were to turn the lights out, you wouldn't make it out alive. We are victims of the mass marketing machine. This machine keeps us in debt, and at work every morning at 9 am sharp every day of our lives until the day that our head can no longer leave the pillow. Now, while a boat can't cure the buying disorder it can make it very difficult to come home with that hot dog cooker that you thought you had to have. The day that I got rid of my "stuff", and moved to the boat was one of the best days of my life, it was as if a great weight was lifted from my shoulders.
A majority of people spend a couple of hours each day in traffic because the house that they can afford is far from where they work. Consider this, most cities have emerged from the banks of a navigable body of water, New York, Boston, Miami, and so on and so on. With a boat you can live in the most advantageous locations that cities have to offer, their waterfronts. This usually means short commutes to work, shopping, restaurants and public amenities. If something should occur that makes an area lose its appeal, with a house you are stuck, with a boat you simply move to another area that better suites your fancy.
About ten percent of Miamians take advantage of the city's greatest natural asset, Biscayne Bay, and its barrier islands. The reason?, you need a boat to get you out there. If you take the recreational opportunities that a boat provides, and compare it with that of a backyard, and well, need I say more?
If you ever analyze the costs of maintaining a house with a yard, including mortgage interest and taxes over, say 20 years, you will be shocked, if not angry at the sum. In fact, when compared to the costs of maintaining a house, a boat is actually affordable. It's only when people try to maintain both a boat and a house that the boat bares the brunt of the blame for the stressed state of the finances, but only because it is seen as a luxury and the house is seen as a necessity.
How about return on investment? A $100,000 house will cost you about $500,000 over the course of 30 years. The truth is that unless your property ends up in the path of a grander scheme, you will be lucky to break even. As a general rule it takes about 10% of a boats value to maintain it per year. Our sailboat cost $25,000 new in 1973. Today the appraised, and insured valve is $125,000. A boat does have an initial depreciation curve that lasts for about 5 to 10 years if you were to buy it new, but who would do such a thing? While a boat is more susceptible to a soft economy, the return on investment is not very different from that of a house.
Just to be completely honest, and objective, you do need to develop a better sense of awareness to your environment, and some common sense to live on a boat. The good news is that since we only use about 15% of our brains, and even then some of us have some catching up to do, there is room in the old noggin for these skills. A little bit of reading, and a couple of boat show seminars, and you'll be well on your way to improving your quality of life, and your finances with the advantage of living on a boat. Many a times I have sat on my boat, at the marina, and thought, "Man am I glad that most people don't know about boats, this place would be really crowded".
Then again, I could just be wrong about the whole thing???

For some people this would only be a screensaver.

Hum-drum Summer days

So here we sit, at the end of the pier. These are the days in-between great sea adventures, or cross country excursions, just waiting, and waiting for hurricane season to pass. The temperature outside is uncomfortably hot, very hot. The air is saturated with water, so heavy you can taste it. It feels like you could use a snorkel. The profuse sweating burns my eyes whenever I take a walk down the pier. Surprisingly, the air conditioner on the boat boat does a fair job of keeping the things tolerable.

The forecasts always have a tropical depression or storm to keep an eye on, so we will stay put until the end of September. If things are calm enough by then, we will move eastward towards the Virgin Islands.

A typical weather report, that's not the sun or the moon, that's a hurricane!

Some days go by as though they never existed, we're not used to that. The marina is quiet...worse than that it's desolate! Some times I see less than 5 people in the course of a day. At dusk, an ancient tribe of vampire mosquitoes tries to suck me dry. While in the air they are almost impossible to swat, you have to wait for them to land. Their landings are unlike any that I have ever witnessed, once a spot has been cleared for landing they come in spear first, and drive it deep into your skin. Aw, but now they are stuck, this is the chance you've been waiting for, and you can kill them with a fingertip. The only problem is that the venom is already in, and you will itch for hours.  The deet-free repellent seems to attract the little humming monsters, no wonder we found it on "clearance". Working outside is difficult with the heat, I'm getting little done in the way of boat projects.
Marie keeps busy fighting the kids to get their school work done. It takes Hadrian about an hour to compose a sentence. You'd think it would be a heck of a sentence, but in fact it disappoints. Her negative reinforcement is limited to only shouting, and the kids seem to be somewhat vaccinated against the effects it. I advise her to hit more, scream less, she doesn't do it, but kids hate me for suggesting it. Eva says that neither her, nor her children will ever cuddle with me again, talk about drama. The dog is all curled up under the table, hardly any signs of life come from it, just a very slight swelling of the rib cage when she breaths. If you stomp your foot by her she'll open her eyes. That's as close to playing fetch as you're going to get from her.

Our dog just lays around all day.

Eva tries to cloud the issue of her stagnant school work by complaining about her life. She says that I ruined it by taking her on this trip, as if school would not be a problem if we were back home, yeah right.

Eva and Hadrian doing schoolwork.

Arts and crafts does not get the same resistance as say math, or English.

The Mirador is a lot more spacious than it's exterior would lead you to believe. We can quite comfortably spend the whole day inside. The neighbors sometimes wonder how we manage this, or so one of them confessed. You can find a private space to get away from most of the commotion of home schooling. I have mastered the art of shutting things out, almost to a fault.
Occasionally, I get a call from a friend to tell me how bad things back home are going. Attitudes in the work place are simply cutthroat in the aftermath of the recession, they tell me. I can't say I miss the old gerbil wheel. Porsche is really gonna have to work hard to sell me another car. Finances aside, I think I've grown too secure of myself.
Shopping for groceries is now the highlight of my day. I comb the aisles, and read the labels. You should see what they put in some of the stuff. I can spend three or four hours at the grocery store. I sometimes start to get followed. Walmart is a safe haven, all you need is crazier people around you to make you incognito.
This is a great time to come visit us. The airline tickets are as cheap as they get. Write as soon as possible, as space should be running out quickly as of the posting of this article.