Cuba

It seems a lot of time has passed since we left Guatemala; quite a few miles too.  After a relaxing couple of weeks retracing some of our steps back up the Belize coast with Rachel, we sadly left her in Belize city to find her way back to Cancun.  The enthusiastically anticipated big blue hole at Lighthouse reef remained 'Mission Impossible' for us, due to it being upwind no matter which way we seemed to approach it.  In the end we gave up and set sail for Cuba.

We always expected the leg to be a hard uphill slog.  The prevailing easterly trades set you back towards the Mexican coast as the gulf stream tugs or shunts you Northwards.  Many give up trying to get East and simply drift up North, wait for a calm day and boulder their boat with engine across the Yucatan Straits.  As it happened, we had predominantly South Easterlies and so managed to sail to Cuba in just about one very long and somewhat wriggly tack.

Not that it wasn't an arduous leg.  Duncan; a windsurfer of old, groups wind strength into three main categories: Not enough, Just right, or Too much.  For the first three days there was too much wind.  Impetuous pounded along under tripple reefed main and staysail as we cowered below in the relative dryness of the cabin, composing lists of jobs that we must address before finding ourselves in similar weather again.  Ruth lost weight and our ensign blew itself merrily to tatters in the howling wind.

It was a trip of two halves though; if the first three days were a good explanation of why not everyone wants to do what we are doing, then the next three days were lovely examples of why we do choose this.  It was sunny, breezy and calm and nights were illuminated by the full moon; just beautiful.  We got into the groove; read, cooked, dried out and cleaned up, listening to music and noticing as we saw more wildlife as we approached land; first dolphins, then a song bird rested with us a while, butterflies, a beetle then myriad bugs and birds.

Cuba felt a bit of a gamble as a destination, I'm sure everyone will come up with a different reason as to why that might be; such is the diversity of opinion on the place.  We had heard mixed messages from friends and other sailors and so kept asking anyone who had been, trying to get a balanced view of what to expect.  Duncan's primary concern was the tales of beaurocracy.  We wondered if this would mean that to travel from one place to the next could become more hastle than it's worth.  We'd heard from several people just how restrictive the authorities could be, and this had spoiled a few peoples experiences of Cuba.  Ruth visited around ten years ago and had the most amazing time.  It stands as one of her favourite ever trips; too short at three weeks, though she managed to see a little of the whole length of the island in that time using the Cuban transport of choice; hitchhiking.  The principle concern was that if visiting by boat were to be such a headache her romantic memories might be ruined.    Several reports from other sailors included that it was one of their favourite places they'd visited, despite the restrictions and so we decided there was only one way to find out.

So here we are.  It's early days yet; we've been in Cienfuegos since Friday evening.  Clearing in was a delight, though of course 6 officials had to inspect our boat together with two exciteable spaniels.  They were polite, efficient and friendly, the only charges so far were for a visa each ($25 for 1 month) and the boat registration ($50).  Of course we have yet to attempt to submit our cruising plan to the authorities we'll see what kind of reception we get then.  However, first impressions count for a lot and they are unanimous;

CUBA IS FANTASTIC!

The people are friendly, kind and beautiful.  The streets are clean and cared for, the roads are quiet with many cyclists, then along trundles a classic American car or just as likely a horse and cart.  The food is plentiful, fresh and cheap beyond belief (of course we shop in the local markets).   

The city has a rich mixture of old colonial buildings juxtaposed with art deco and more modern concrete structures, but brightly painted with well ordered gardens; surprisingly they seem to complement each other.  The fast food of choice is a simple pizza which will set one back as little as 5 Peso Nacional; about 13 pence, served from the front room of a family home, with an ice cream for desert from another open door; another 3 Peso Nacional (8p or 12 US cents).  Of course we haven't yet told you about the Rum... or the cigars... or the fishing... or the music....

Nesting Dinghy Days

Well it might have been nice to have written this as a daily blog, but a few things plotted against us. Not least inactive days and inactive Internet. It also would be very boring to read. So here are all the dinghy days rolled in to one, though its not finished yet, so expect another; steps towards a sailing dinghy...

It all started with the model that we made whilst still in Texas and a bevel gauge. We copied out the angles from the model on to the transom and on to the central frame. All we had to do then was join them, with a strip of holly used to give a pleasing curve we marked on the shape of the dinghy. Took a step back, when not happy we scribbled out the line and re-drew. We used a very simple design method throughout the dinghy construction. If it looks right; it is. 
 

Of course one absolute necessity for the nesting dinghy is for it to nest. For this, though you mightn't need the whole dinghy, you do need both the joining frames. Knowing that we would run out of wood we cobbled these together from offcuts. Obviously they need to be the same. Ruth used the router to perfectly copy the first frame when making the second frame. A lot of effort then went in to not gluing the second frame to the rest of the dinghy when gluing up. Look carefully for the tape.

Cable ties worked well as a quick and efficient tie. Though we needed extra strength for the bow when we resorted to wire and rope due to the tight angles. The bow itself required a bit of recutting as we thought it might. Though we had the model to copy, the limitations that bringing five separate sheets of ply together present along with the usual, 'oh just a little bit more curve don't you think,' resulted in needing final adjustment.

Our biggest mistake was not bolting the bow section to the aft section when we glued up the bow section, which is why it didn't fit! Still its amazing what fury can be vented with a hand saw, by the lunch of the day we realised our mistake, we were ready to glue it back up again. The rain clouds being the only dampener of our further progress.

Any excess wood was trimmed off with a plane. The outside edges were rounded so fibreglass could be draped over them easily. The inside corners were filleted and then glassed. Before long the only thing preventing us from having a celebratory paddle, before painting, was the addition of a daggerboard housing, to stop up the gaping hole in the sole. Once complete, who could resist having a little paddle? We were both delighted with the result. Certainly a lot more sprightly than our usual mode of transport the Avon Redcrest.

With a lick of paint still drying we loaded her on top of the boat as we went to provision Impetuous before leaving Guatemala. We went wood shopping again, this time in Rio Dulce, to ensure we would have enough ply to add the buoyancy tanks and bought some softwood chunks for the all important mast, gaff and boom. Perhaps not first quality, but the wood was incredibly cheap and we were able to route through their piles in order to find the lightest and straightest. We'll let you know how we get on in time.

Aventuras Sin Impetuous; Tikal

It was with a sigh and a pained look that Ruth said, 'We're never going to see any Mayan ruins.' Months ago when we returned to England we thought it would be nice to spend some time in Flores and Visit Tikal, on our way back to the boat in the spring. In reality, when the time came, all we both wanted to do was get back to Impetuous. So a plan was hatched that when our friend Rachel came in late Feburary; around Ruth's birthday, we would head up to Flores to meet her and all go to Tikal.

Rachel, who we had expected to take a more leisurely trip down from Cancun arrived like a shot from a gun. 'Oh shit!' I expectorated, she gets in to Flores in a few hours; the internet was working again and we had just picked up her most recent email. Time to go.

The bus ride to Flores was not without event, as we have posted. A protest had blockaded the road so, as five hours passed; amongst them the hottest of the day; we were stuck in a dusty town with thousands of others going nowhere. People pottered around selling their wares, we bought a bottle of honey in an old wine bottle. Generally all was peaceful and relaxed, no one seemed to care too much. Even the protesters just stood behind their banners and mutely protested. Inside the tin can of the bus we sweated. Finally around 6 o'clock the banners came down and the cool of moving air seemed all the sweeter for its hours of absence.

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Tikal is different from many of the other Mayan ruins as the areas surrounding have not been cleared. You often are walking from one ruin to the next draped in a shadowey cloak of cacophony; the jungle alive above. We saw, and of course heard the roar of the howler monkeys as well as the constant chatter of birds of many species. Then suddenly the paths open out, presenting you with the spectacular sights of the ruins, towering with mythical splendour.

It lay undiscovered until 1863, despite being one the most significant sites of the most powerful kingdom of the ancient Maya. It is now being uncovered and, in places is still under renovation. Much more lies within the park boundary as yet hidden by the jungle.

Some of the imposing architecture dates back to the 4^th century BC, yet amazingly it did not see its demise as a strong hold of the culture until as late as 900 AD. After looking at our photo's its worth a google. 

Frustration!

Cruising has often wryly been defined as 'fixing you boat in interesting places'. This is no frustration for us as it's what we expect and enjoy. What's threatening our sanity at the moment is not being able to do our fixing and therefore delays in moving on. What's the problem in your beautiful tropical paradise? I hear you wonder; 'Demassiado lluvia' – Too Much Rain!

We've been here almost four weeks now and apart from a couple of delightful exceptions it's rained every single night. Before yesterday, the last five daytimes have been rainy too and plenty before that. It's not that we 'can't stand the rain'; we are British after all; it's just that our work is largely outside and perpetually damp or drying. Also, it's so warm that you need your doors and windows open trying to tempt in a little breeze.

Tuesday afternoon just when we thought we might have chosen something to do in the moisture, the power went.

The weeks of rain had dampened our spirits and it suddenly got to us just how little we'd managed to get done in this short and finite time we'd have the 'luxury' of power and nearby land. The reality is that we'd prefer to be at anchor in any case but we have several jobs that are massively aided by the use of power tools and a little more space.

Frustration hit and some words were flung. The problems have been only partly rain. It also has not been as easy as Duncan had hoped to get into the swing of things. I can't help feeling a bit like I'm on holiday so wasn't going for it hammer and tongs.

All of our first week was spent going through lockers; throwing out some things, cleaning and trying to irradicate our bugs. There was a fair bit of mould wiping and rearranging to be done before the boat felt homely again. Then there was going up town to provision and celebrate Duncan's birthday together with the inevitable hangovers. A few days were lost and our provisioning would have been much more appropriate if I hadn't felt so nauseus and weak. We consequently predictably ran low on fresh foods only one week later and eaked out our last few onions tomatoes and chillis for the next week. Repeatedly we put off a restocking trip due to the time it would take and how much we wanted to get done before our friend visits – when we had to go to town anyhow.

In any case Tuesday afternoon was a low spot, perhaps exacerbated by perfectly adequate, but below usual par food. We weren't alone, Mauritz who owns our space in the jungle ( I hesitate to call it a marina as it would do it a disservice) with his girlfriend Mavis slammed down his chisel on the workbench as rain dripped down his neck despite being under the roof , 'this is starting to 'shall we say' really piss me off now'; he wouldn't be glueing up his bowsprit that day. Mavis got back from dropping someone off in town in their lancha totally drenched through. 'I'm so glad we moved to the sun, baby'.

So, Tuesday night it continued to pour, we continued to grump at one another and 'no hay electricidad' persisted. We'd heard from our friend and we wanted to meet her soon. We started hatching a plan and went to bed waking up with regularity to squash some bloody mosquitos or lament on the thunderous hammering of precipitation on our roof.

Wednesday bloomed a whole new day. The sun poked through the remaining spots of drizzle, we had a plan and Duncan had laid it down; no more laziness. Mauritz was laughing over his music as he glued up his bowsprit. The whip had been cracked and we sprung into action, lockers were rearranged, cutting lists were organised, stuff was packed away; focus reigned.

In the afternoon I heard Mauritzs' compressor running, I knew he was already up in the bar area 'having a business meeting' with his builders and a beer. I looked across the water; no flow of exhaust out the side of his boat; he wasn't running his generator. 'Dunc, we've got power!'

I routed the edge on the piece of wood for the table; just one pass that I'd been trying to do for 48 hours. Duncan went to strip up a whole load of wood to prepare it to make trim in the future. I fibreglassed the edges of the dinghy way past sundown and we went up to discuss travel plans for the next day with Mavis and Mauritz over a beer for me and a 'Tom especiale' for Duncan; rum, tonic and lime over ice.

Mario could pick us up in his outboard powered cayuco at 06.30. This took a moment to get used to as we'd hoped to go around 2pm having cleared away and scrubbed up the boat a bit and painted the dinghy in the morning in expectation of our first visitor. Once we assimilated the new plan it all seemed grand again and we resolved to go to bed soon; it was already almost 11pm and we still hadn't eaten...

Mario zipped us up to Fronterras in just under two hours picking up various people and fish along the way. We had just enough time for huevos revueltos y frijoles negras; scrambled eggs and refried beans before getting on the bus for Flores. Rachel is there already having made the trip from Cancun airport in record time, however, at this present moment, we aint goin' nowhere.

Our bus stopped in a huge traffic jam just outside Poptun about 4 hours ago and I'm sitting on the side of the road thinking about frustration. We're told it's a teachers' strike blocking the road; apparently they've not been paid sufficiently and are letting people know by stopping the traffic. We're told that either the situation or individuals are 'locos', its hard to tell which, but no-one seems overly worried by this. I'm sure the 70 or so people who have poured out of our bus all have places to be and things to do but at the moment there's nothing anyone can do about it; for now we'll just have to wait.

The day we ran out of screws...

As I think we might have mentioned a few times before; when we bought Impetuous she came with a miriad of stuff. As well as the big important stuff like sails, winches and self steering gear, we were also given lots of little stuff; stuff that you might never consider but that really adds up.

The cupboard behind the cooker, for instance, was full of boxes of screws.  During our rebuild the screws moved to one of the drawers in the head, agreeably as odd a home as the cupboard behind the cooker, but they fit there so well.  Actually sitting on the toilet whilst contemplating what screw one needs for a job seems a fortunate duality of a room that perhaps mightn't have one.

When we were readying the boat to leave Texas we made sure we had plenty of all our favorite sizes whilst we still had access to Blackburns', our marine store.  Indeed we no longer had space for all the screws in just one drawer so the jubilee clips (hose clamps); another item that came with the boat in large number; had to be relegated to another place.   Neither of us are quite sure where to at the moment, but we know we have hundreds of the things lurking somewhere.

So today I went to the drawer to find some small screws with which to screw on the Ratan doors that I have just finished making for the galley cupboards. No suitable screws were to be found. The hinges for said doors are brass, obviously I was after a brass screw to suit. A ½'' number 6, oval headed, countersunk, brass wood screw, with a flat head drive to be quite precise.

I had to rob the afore mentioned screws from the inside attachment of other such hinges to carry out the job. This make do attitude I suspect we'll find increasingly necessary, traveling in far away places. It's a sobering thought though. With only a thousand miles under the keel we have started running out of screws. 

Build your own nesting dinghy day 2...

Internet has been very iffy here so we're way ahead of this now however, no time to fill in the lot, got to get on!!

We bought the wood whilst still in Texas. Since then it has made our bed in the bow less than the most comfortable. It has been stored under the mattress; cut into guess your dinghy shape sized strips and piled underneath. Also whilst still in Texas Duncan made several model dinghies from cardboard, our favorite has traveled around with us ever since and was used as a guide for the real dinghy; taking angles and dimensions from it.

It all starts with the first cut. The lines for the transom were drawn on to the correct bit of wood and cut, the floor and side pieces followed. The off cuts were gathered up and used to make the forward frame. 

To build a dinghy... Day 1