Winter is Coming

When the Green Iguana wakes up and sees his shadow, winter is coming. So it’s time to head North. Actually, he or she sees their shadow every day, especially this season. It has been sunny and hot, more than the usual sunny and hot weather. A rental air conditioner is used when on the hard and we even use our onboard air conditioner here in the marina. This is the only time I can appreciate a/c as the cooling Trade Winds on this island of Trinidad fails. So as winter approaches, we sail north. For us, it means the northern Leewards.

Our Trinidad season is just about over. Kalunamoo has been here since the end of May and for the last seven weeks we have been finishing up our M&R and getting ready for island hopping the Lesser Antilles. As written about in the last post, we have also been enjoying Trinidadian social events with cruisers and locals. We moved Kalunamoo over for two weeks at Crews Inn, a marina and hotel in Chaguaramas, to get her “feet wet” before we sail. The Inn also has a great pool so that we too can get our “feet wet.”

We will head north, making a few stops along the way before hitting Antigua. We will spend a month or two there, enough time to fly to New York for Christmas, and then let the wind decide where we go from there. The Salty Dawg Rally group will be in Antigua by the time we get there, having sailed down from the East Coast. It is always a good time meeting new cruisers and those we know from previous rallies. Thanksgiving at the Antigua Yacht Club will be on the agenda along with other salty Dawg events. I hope for a few jam sessions and other island social events.  

It was in November 2013, that we first sailed down from Virgina to the BVI’s with the Salty Dawgs. It takes about 11-13 days for us to sail directly without stopping and have done four crossings. We don’t look forward to those long passages as much now. The one or two overnight passages are more than sufficient to keep us in sailing shape and in the Lesser Antilles. But we are often asked, so when are you returning from the Caribbean?

Paul Gauguin, a painter of some notoriety, first visited the Caribbean, Martinique, in 1887 after spending a short time in Panama. He lived in St Pierre (before the eruption of Mount Pelee wiped it out). He painted almost two dozen art works while there before returning to Paris. In 1890 he sailed, (not on his own boat) to Tahiti and spent about three years in the Pacific.

I bring this up as we recently met a retired doctor, Steve, here in Trinidad. His sailboat, ALMOST THERE, was on the hard right next to Kalunamoo. Only retired a few years, he was enjoying the Caribbean and spending much of the time in Grenada. As we got to know each other, he mentioned that he loved to write. He just finished his first novel, The Dance, and was trying to get it published. I also like to write but don’t think a novel is in my future, but it is fun to “make up characters” and see where they lead. Actually, there are numerous cruisers who have written, and continue to write novels, blogs, magazine articles, how-to books, that we have met along the way. Other arts are also represented including painting, photography and even weaving. Our good cruising friend Bob and his wife Brenda on PANDORA spend time in the Caribbean and Brenda is a proficient artistic weaver. Cruising aboard, however, does cramp her capability. Not to worry, their basement home in Connecticut is outfitted with large looms for her weaving! Bob happens to be the president of the Salty Dawg Sailing Association and we will see them again in Antigua.

Steve’s fictional novel, The Dance, takes place in Manhattan but its theme is Henri Mattis’s painting of the same name, or more descriptively, Steve’s interpretation of its imperative to pursue life’s unfettered joy. That is what drives most people although the paths and methods are many, obstacles persist, and results are often compromises. The goals may never fully be realized and as many have said, it’s the journey that counts. These are the senses that influenced our travel south to the islands. So when will we sail back, really, to the north? When will the dance end? Only the musicians know.